Embracing My Inner Salacious Little Slut
Chronicle of an Open Marriage #18
The confluence of opening up our long-term marriage, writing about it here on Medium, going public with my long-secret (and shameful) spanking fetish, stripping at a party of young stripping and spanking enthusiasts, and meeting Hungry Man online and starting a HOT sextual relationship has got me on the brink.
I’m so revved up with sexual energy, I sometimes feel like I have an atomic bomb in my pubic area. When I’m lying in bed and thinking about something sexy, my groin starts pulsing. Then I have to scrunch my body up in the shape of an S (for SEX) and then stretch out straight from toe to head in the shape of an l (for LUST) a few times, to pump that energy out from my core to my extremities, dispersing it throughout my body, lest I explode!
This FEELS really good inside my body, and I’m pretty sure it IS really good for me in many nourishing ways.
Here’s one example: a side effect of this new energy coursing through me is that I’ve stopped losing hair. Prior to meeting Hungry Man online and sending him erotic messages at velocity, I couldn’t help noticing that my hair was falling out. I found strands of it all over the house: on the back of my easy chair, on my pillow, in my hairbrush, and in my fingers when I raked them over my scalp. But now that has stopped! I haven’t seen an errant strand in days. Could it be I’ve discovered the fountain of youth? All you need do to wake up your tired body is to engage in a lot of hot sext!
I’m so revved up with sexual energy, I sometimes feel like I have an atomic bomb in my pubic area.
Another side effect is my very positive mood. I mentioned in a previous story that HM has a relationship style that is the exact opposite of my husband’s. While Hubs has told me he loves me maybe 10 times in 40 years, HM uses the “L” word a lot. I found this quite threatening at first, and kept resisting the burgeoning relationship and changing my mind about whether or not I wanted to continue.
But as I got to know HM better, I realized that he isn’t threatening my marriage and will not explode my life. He has a wife whom he adores, a family, work, critters — a rich and satisfying existence that he has no desire to destroy. What we’re doing together is not a replacement for that. It’s an addition. It’s a hot and savory and truly delicious side dish to enhance the main meal. So now, with my new understanding of what’s on offer, I can fearlessly accept his love, attention, and praise, which puts me in a very good mood.
Besides telling me he loves me, HM also has pet names for me. One is mon petit oignon, or my little onion. The other is “my salacious little slut,” and I can’t tell you just how much that second one pleases me. (So much!) Because the truth is, I’ve been a good mother, a good wife, and a good woman for sooooooo loooooong, that I’m practically ecstatic at this husband-approved opportunity to break out of that mold.
What we’re doing together is not a replacement... It’s an addition. It’s a hot and savory and truly delicious side dish to enhance the main meal.
It doesn’t feel very feminist, but the “husband-approved” part is what makes devouring this delicious side dish possible for me. I wouldn’t be able to emotionally tolerate being a salacious little slut on my own. I wouldn’t want to cheat, for example, because the guilt would crush me, and other aspects of that lifestyle would seriously suck. But with Hubs encouraging me in the wings? Having another man send me sexy and loving messages is a revelation. It’s validating and life-affirming and extremely flattering. It makes me happy and hot.
It also might not feel feminist to call a woman a slut. But reclaiming and de-weaponizing degrading words is a strategy long used by the oppressed. It’s a way to fling back the attempted humiliation in the oppressor’s face. Just as the Black community has taken back the n-word and made it their own, so women must take back words like slut and cunt so they have no power to hurt or shame.
Speaking of feminism, that’s another surprising benefit of our new relationship style. It seems to me that non-monogamy smashes the patriarchy. Because when we were monogamous, I couldn’t help feeling that I was being a “bad wife” whenever I would go out to do something on my own. I’d fret over leaving Hubs home alone and feel guilty, and that seriously curtailed me from fully expressing my personality, since he’s an introvert who has a narrow range of things that he enjoys doing, and I’m enthusiastic about everything under the sun. Now I write my own script. I design my own life. And it’s a lot more satisfying.
So how is my Salacious Little Slut different from my regular persona?
- She uses dirty words My SLS has no problem using words like cock and cum and pussy — words that would turn my previous iteration a little green around the gills. That woman even balked at the word “panties.” But now, with my SLS fully activated, I’m always talking about Hungry Man’s throbbing cock and my slick, wet pussy in our email exchanges, and I’ve developed a new appreciation for the song WAP by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion. Also, I delight in discovering new words for genitalia, like punana. Isn’t that a good one? It means nest (also good) in Hawaiian, and female genitalia in slang.
- She wears sexy clothes Hubs is a little annoyed by this since he’s been trying to get me to wear sexier clothes for 40 years. Why is it suddenly okay with you now? I think it’s because I was constantly defending myself against his sexual advances — and the sexual intrusion of all men — before. Within the monogamous marriage, I felt it was my duty to satisfy my sexually overactive husband (horrible and backward mindset, I know, but there nonetheless), and I bitterly resented that. One way I tried to keep his libido in check was by not wearing provocative clothes. But now that he’s free to get sex outside the marriage, and I’m released from my wifely “duty,” I don’t feel the need to defend my body from his advances anymore. And now that I’m free to get sex elsewhere, too, I can better enjoy looking sexy and good for my men.
- She tries new sexual things Since my relationship with Hungry Man is entirely virtual at this point (although we plan a tryst in September), Hubs is the one benefiting directly from the activation of my inner SLS. We have sex a lot now, and I’m more than willing. What’s more, I’m trying new things with enthusiasm, like oral and anal, both giving and receiving. But Hungry Man is benefiting, too, via video in addition to email. We’ve only had two video chats so far, but they’ve been truly epic, and make me juice up just thinking about them. In the first, we were still shy with each other, just starting out, and the most that happened was I noticed that he has beautiful eyes, and showed him my naked breasts. (He approved.) But that stimulated my appetite for more. I told him I wanted to see him cum in the next session, so he’d have to find a private place, not call from his car. I asked Hubs to vacate our apartment and set up the laptop in the living room. It didn’t take long for us both to get naked, breathing heavy, and soon he had his hard cock in his hand. I was doing a kind of seduction dance for the camera, twisting and turning my body, bending over, gripping my butt cheeks, and he was pumping and groaning and murmuring sexy nothings until he exploded all over his chest. Watching him handle himself, stimulated by my naked body, my former persona tried to regain control of my psyche for a moment, suggesting that this scenario was creepy and wrong. But my Salacious Little Slut put her down fast. Because I loved watching him work on himself. I loved seeing the effect I was having on him — realizing my sexual power. And I loved watching his tender face as he came. It felt like an impossibly intimate encounter: I’ve seen him cum. I own him now.
- She exudes sexual energy Remember that atomic bomb in my pussy? Well, that energy has got to go somewhere. And I’m pretty sure it’s emanating off me all the time now… Here’s something that happened yesterday, when the UPS driver seemed to know that I was embracing my inner Salacious Little Slut. I went down to the lobby and let him in after he buzzed all the apartments. He was a big but tight-looking black-brown man, arms full of packages, wearing wraparound sunglasses and his baseball cap on backward. “Anything for me?” I asked. (I’m waiting on new lingerie — another new interest.) What apartment are you in? he asked. I held up 2 fingers. He walked to the table in the lobby to put down his armful and then asked “Tris?” And I answered “Yes!” Then he brought me a package and smiled some kind of way while he handed it to me, holding onto his side a second longer than necessary. I thanked him excitedly and took it upstairs. He was still in the lobby, lingering, as I ascended. I paused outside my door, listening. He paused downstairs, listening, too. He was waiting, I think, to see if I would invite him inside…
I didn’t invite him in, that time. My SLS is not that developed, yet. But in future? Who knows? The world is an array of endless possibilities, and can change in color and form at a chance meeting online, or after tasting an exotic and delicious new dish. Stay tuned. More will most definitely be revealed…
What happened next? Read Chronicle of an Open Marriage #19. Find all of my stories about opening our marriage on the list below, or about sex in general on this one. Get an email whenever I publish. And have a delicious day.
