Friday night Mrs. AP and I attended a concert at local club. The headline artist was one of the pioneers in the electronic trance genre, which resulted in nearly non-stop moving and dancing for hours on end. We had been invited at the request of new friends — a male and female couple — Mrs. AP had made at a house party a few weeks prior.
While we were one the dance floor with our friends, Mrs. AP leaned in to me to let me know that “there’s something special” about the woman of couple, whom I shall call SCS (Short Cute and Sweet). I grinned like the cheshire car and told her to go with whatever feelings hit her.
Over the course of the night I bore witness to Mrs. AP and SCS making out repeatedly, groping and fondling each other, and making long assaults on each other’s nipples via lips and teeth. Mrs. AP also engaged in a deep soulful kiss with SCS’ boyfriend. All of this, of course, in the middle of a pack of moving, dancing people on the dance floor, and in between her and I making out and groping each other nearly non-stop.
Nights like this remind me just how freeing it is to be Poly. While we needn’t be always on the lookout for new people in our lives, being able to take advantages of situations like this when they arise and not only feel no guilt or remorse but also feel intense joy and happiness for our partner/s in the process is empowering. Mrs. AP was free and carefree with SCS, and it was an absolute joy to watch. I’ve never seen Mrs. AP so entranced by another woman before. To that point, I’ve never seen Mrs. AP express outright desire to pursue another woman before, much less initiate a deep kiss.
I look forward to seeing just where this leads.
Stay SINful, friends.
The time had finally come. Her car was pulling into the lot, and I was finally going to get to meet her in person. I sat on my stool, eyes scanning the entrances to the lot until I finally saw her car pull in. Tracking it to it’s spot, I waited eagerly, nervously, knowing she would be everything in person that she was online and hoping I could live up to my own presentation. I had been myself, right? Surely I hadn’t exaggerated or overestimated. I adjusted my shirt again, checking my buttons, my collar, my belt, my pants, making sure everything was tidy and in place. Then her door opened, and I saw her step out…
It began, of all places, on OKCupid. My profile was honest; I was married, I wasn’t happy with the sexual relationship, I was trying to make everything else work, and I just wanted some quiet, NSA sex. I wasn’t looking much beyond the Orlando area for travel and time concerns. I’d had some success, meeting one or two people who were local or local-ish and with whom I’d played a bit, but nothing much had come of things. One day in mid December I received a message, which read, roughly, that while she didn’t agree with why I was on OKC she understood that shit happens, and that my profile interested her do greatly that despite her reservations she felt compelled to talk to me further and hear my story.
It was the most brutally honest, to the point message I’d received on the site yet. I fired back a response immediately, and only the paused to view her profile. I was instantly hooked. She wrote succinctly, with a controlled intelligence and a strong passion that matched the pictures of her brilliant red hair and red lips, both shining like rubies reflecting firelight. There was no way, I thought, that such a smart, strong, gorgeous woman would ever want anything more to do with me, but I wasn’t about to turn down the chance to find out.