I Smell Sex and Gummies

Our first time making love while high was a transformative experience

The gummy hits when we’re lounging in the pool. I’m floating — both literally and metaphorically — as my arms wrap around his shoulders and my legs wrap around his waist and he pins me against the wall.

He kisses me like he’s dying of thirst and I’m water. He always kisses me like that.

I’d bitten into my first gummy (ever!) back in our room, and he had one with me. It smelled so good and tasted as good as it smelled. I had half of one and immediately wanted to eat more. They are dangerously tasty.

His lips move to my neck. “It’s happening,” I say.

“Oh yeah?” He smiles.

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

The colors are suddenly more vivid. The pool is turquoise. His hair is dark blue and dark purple — it’s ultraviolet in the sun. His nails are painted cobalt with little silver specks.

“You’re like a mermaid!” I say.

And he really is. He’s pretty. Handsome. Gorgeous. Hot as fuck. He can easily be feminine or masculine. This glorious human is no gender and every gender. He can fuck me mercilessly or make love to me gently.

He is the most fascinating chameleon.

I push away and go on a little solo swim.

“You enjoying the feel of things?” he asks.

“I am!”

Nothing gets by him. Even when he’s high he can read me like a book.

I swim around a bit, and the cool water gliding over my body feels amazing. The playlist I picked for the evening makes being high even better. Lots of hippie psychedelic rock. “Red House” by Jimi Hendrix is on, and I can practically feel the guitar as it comes through the speaker.

It’s not long before he suggests getting out and going back to the room. He’s my partner in polyamory, and we’ll have to go back to our kids and spouses and the real world before we know it. The pool is a shared space at our Airbnb, and we only have so much private time together during our overnight. We don’t want to waste it.

Tonight I’ll learn that getting high with my partner doesn’t so much enhance his sexual performance (though he warned me it would) — as it simply amplifies the earthshattering, physical-mental-emotional connection that is already so strong between us.

Fuck me into another world

In bed, his eyes are beautiful as they hover above me, looking at me like he can see into my soul. Strands of dark blue hair brush his cheeks, drawing my fingers to it like a magnet.

I grab him tight as his body glides over mine, his cock entering me in one swift, hard thrust. God that moment is so so good. Finally, I’m a part of him again.

I’m in awe of how soft his skin is. It’s softer than mine as he grinds and thrusts into me. Everything feels extra good right now. His scent is incredible. The taste of his kiss is unbelievable. The sight of him is a visual feast.

I drag my nails down his spine, loving the slippery sensation of the sweat forming on his back and neck and shoulders as he works, slamming into me with more passion, enthusiasm, and skill than anyone has ever been able to.

I know we’re chemically matched because I even love his sweat. I want it all over me.

His facial hair is soft and trimmed short and never feels too rough against my skin when his lips explore me. His body is lithe and slim and deceptively strong. It’s a work of art.

Sorry if I seem obsessed. It’s because I am obsessed. And he’s the one who created this hunger inside me.

His hand finds my breast without missing a beat while he fucks. He kisses my lips, my neck, my shoulder. He licks and sucks my overly sensitive nipples until I’m sure I’ll explode. Then, we’re just fucking and staring into each other’s eyes, and it’s like I’m on another plane of existence. There’s no more intoxicating drug than physically becoming a part of him.

He fucks me into oblivion, and I relish the feeling of being completely lost in him. When he cums inside me, the sound of his audible pleasure in my ear sets me off. He groans loud and long, then gradually grows quieter, whimpering and panting into my shoulder.

He’s still inside me as he buries his head in my neck, snuggling into me. We’re as close as two people can be.

A few seconds later, he begins to move his hips again. He’s still hard. He’s ready to fuck me into another world once more.

My eyes roll into the back of my head in disbelief. It seems like it shouldn’t be possible, but there it is. He keeps going, his energy boundless, his pounding merciless. I hope it never ends.

More than mind-bending sex

That night, he fucks me more times than I can count. I have trouble reaching a full climax — which seems to be a side-effect of the gummy — but the pleasure I do feel is so intense and long-lasting, it’s like I’m having multiple brain orgasms. It’s wild and nearly unexplainable, but it’s like my orgasm is running a marathon of pleasure all night long rather than a short sprint.

Every inch of my body is in a constant state of immense pleasure as he fingers me and strokes my clit. As he buries his face between my legs for what feels like hours. As he presses my vibrator against my swollen clit while he endlessly stimulates my nipples.

That’s when I cum full force — after I’ve been thrumming and vibrating for hours. It’s not so much a release as it is a sort of punctuation. It’s more of an exclamation point to the pleasure he’s been writing on my body this entire time.

We’ve fuck for maybe two hours (who knows what time is at this point?) before we need a break. We try out the hot tub and make out a ton. We soon realize that we’re going to fuck in a common area if we aren’t careful, so we head back to our room and eat leftover pizza and chug water and talk about everything.

I laugh harder with him than anyone I’ve ever been with. He’s fun and funny, whether I’m high or not. But again, things are all amplified, so I’m stupid-giggly.

Eventually, we find the bed again, and our bodies find each other again. He’s truly insatiable as he gets hard and enters me once more. Then I enjoy more of that addicting feeling of being lost in him. Our bodies are making love, and our souls are too. We’re truly connected.

I’m not sure how much time has passed or how many more times he’s climaxed when there’s a bit of a disruption. He feels an intense pain in his side, so he lifts the full weight of my entire body off the pillows and lays me across the flat of the mattress, changing the angle to see if it helps relieve the cramp. I marvel at his strength.

The pain, however, forces him to stop soon after.

If this reads like a jarring transition in my story, it was even more jarring live and in person. He had a vasectomy only the week before, and though he’s been cleared for sex, his pain is so intense that we have to get him checked out.

By this time I’m sober enough to drive to the emergency room, fortunately. When they let me come back to his room, the woman at the front desk says, “You can go back to see your husband now,” and I don’t correct her.

Kidney stones are a real bitch, but he handles the whole thing with humor and grace. We fucked a kidney stone out of him, it seems. But it’s small enough that he doesn’t need surgery.

I’m just relieved he’s okay. I’m relieved he’s safe beside me when we finally get back to our room. In bed, he wraps me in his arms and lays my head on his chest. He’s asleep within minutes, and I feel closer to him than ever as I drift off.

My new home

When we wake the next morning, he guides my mouth to his cock. Kidney stone or no, he seems to be setting records with the number of times he can get hard and orgasm in a twelve-hour period.

I feel good and energetic. The gummy not only doesn’t give us a hangover, it seems to alleviate the one we may have had from the cocktails we drank the night before.

I’m a total slut for sucking my partner’s cock and giving him as much pleasure as I possibly can. I crave going down on him— again, something I haven’t experienced with another in quite this capacity.

And I love when he controls my body and dominates me. This morning it’s gentle, but I like it rough too. I like it all when it comes to him.

Honestly — if we’re being truly honest — I’m his and no one else’s. Pleasuring him and being pleasured by him reminds me of that.

I know the implications of this, being that we’re both married. More and more we’re finding that we’re bad at polyamory, even though we were good at it with others...

When he first whispered “I want you all to myself,” it was like the dirtiest of dirty talk. It gave me a dark thrill.

Now, the more we talk about wanting only each other, the more it rings true. It’s not something I can stop. Nor do I want to.

After we check out, my partner takes me to breakfast. We part ways and go to our respective homes. I’m going to my home, but it feels more like I’m leaving home. As it turns out, he’s my home.

So I miss him — and the missing him is becoming more and more disruptive the closer we get, down to my very core.

I just want to be home.

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