I was born in 1970 in San Francisco. We lived on the top floor of one of the many, once elegant, now dilapidated Victorian houses that were subdivided into apartments. Even our garage was subdivided into a crash pad and storage. We parked our car on the street.
We lived not far from the infamous Haight/Ashbury neighborhood. It was before the renovated “Painted Ladies” of Steiner St. My father had been drafted early on and served in Indonesia before the US became embroiled in Vietnam, and was studying under the GI Bill.
I was too young to remember the riots and arrests against the war. My earliest memories are of the constant, sweet aroma of pot and patchouli oil that permeated our house. It was populated by a constantly changing parade of hippie types. There always seemed to be someone crashing somewhere in the house.
My bedroom looked out onto our tiny back yard with a postage stamp size lawn, which my dad mowed irregularly, a tiny garden with tomatoes and other plants that my mother kept, and a lemon tree. Often people sat around a fire pit smoking, drinking and playing music or reciting poetry long into the night. I am told that some famous people attended these parties.
It was not uncommon, upon waking in the morning to meet one or the other of my parents climbing the stairs from an apartment below, looking a little worse for the wear; or to encounter a strange person leaving their bedroom, carrying his shoes.
Under the back porch was a rusty coin/op washer and dryer set, with a coffee can where mother dumped the quarters when she emptied the coin tray.
I had free reign of the house and later the neighborhood; after the first week of school, I walked myself; it was only a few blocks away. I made many friends on the way, the crossing guard, the gardener at the park I had to cross, the doorman at the Fillmore Hotel which I passed.
If I missed a day of school, perhaps because I had a cold, our phone always rang with someone making sure that I was there and OK. It was years before I learned that my parents owned the house; I thought they were just stoners like the tenants downstairs.
For me it was an idyllic life with an army of “aunts and uncles” who looked after me when my real parents were otherwise occupied. They were all equally tolerant and permissive, but as I matured, I realized that most of America disapproved of their lifestyle.
I have been dandled on the knees of some well-known people in politics and the entertainment industries. When I became more aware of my surroundings, things were toned down substantially for my benefit. By the time I had high school health classes, I knew my parents' lifestyle was not accepted practice.
However, that did not prevent me from being promiscuous in college. I loved sex and had a steady supply of eager partners, mostly men. Then I met Jim, this wonderfully handsome, but unsophisticated surfer dude from SoCal. He was the perfect antidote to my sleeping around.
I could see he adored me, and we were soon a couple. He was essentially a virgin when we met, but eager to move on. We had lots of time and stamina for sex.
When it came to thoughts of marrying, I opted for normalcy, not withstanding my love for my parents, who were still free thinkers. Not long after graduation, I was pregnant with my first son. Son number two came along two years later, and my name became mommy.
Jim surprised me when he asked about swinging; I was sure he would be monogamous for life. In fact, he took to it like a champ, and I was delighted, especially when we met Frank and Jill.
Frank has a big dick and once I got adjusted to it, I learned that I have a second gear if my cervix is contacted by it. His cock drove me almost insane with pleasure. Fucking him was awesome.
Otherwise, life was pretty normal; two boys for me to raise and a burgeoning career for Jim. Busy, busy, busy, with occasional romps for us with Frank and Jill. I was fulfilled and Jim seemed driven in his work. The boys grew up and left home.
Jim had to go to Boston for a month to set up a new venture for his company. I had declined to accompany him because I was day-caring our grandsons. Then one day Frank came to my door; he had never visited alone before, but he knew Jim was away.
He cornered me and started to seduce me, I have always loved kissing him, so I went along for a while. But we ended up in my bed, naked. Having sex with him alone somehow freed us more to be ourselves, and it was the most exciting sex of my life; he seemed able to make me cum at will. I was a wreck by the time he left.
Not long after that, Jill called me. She wanted me to go with her to a meeting of women who explore their attraction for other women. Out of boredom, I agreed.
We were by far the most attractive women there and were pounced upon by them. Before we knew it we were dancing and kissing complete strangers, and loving it. Some of these women even seemed to have dicks.
Eventually, Jill grabbed me and insisted we leave. It was too much for her, but when we got into her car she wanted to make love to me. We were both a bit overheated but I insisted we go home.
We had previously made out some with our husbands watching, which I found hot. When we got to my house, Jill wanted to come in and “talk”. Soon we were talking without any clothes on. Making love to another woman is a treat that I missed when young.
She was quite aggressive, taking the lead, and lavishing her attentions on my mouth, then my nipples, then ultimately my pussy. I loved every moment of it, especially when she took a large black strap-on dildo from her purse and guided it along my labia.
“I found myself begging her to fuck me with it, but after getting it coated with my juices she offered it for me to suck, while she licked my pussy again. I was frantic to have that monster deep in my cunt.
It was fantastic, how gently she pressed it into me and how exciting it was to feel her breasts against mine as we fucked for a long time. She made me cum again and again.
I was trembling uncontrollably when she stopped stroking and simply held it at its deepest. Her lips never left mine, and when I placed a finger on her pussy, it was pulsating with her orgasm. We fell asleep entangled.
In the morning she told me about Frank bringing strangers home to fuck her and how it made her feel cheap. She wanted to stay with me. That was when things began to unravel with Jim.
I went to spend the weekend with him intending to open a conversation about Jill and me. He went ballistic when he learned she was staying with me and intended to live with us. I managed to smooth things somewhat before returning home. But then he called Frank, who admitted to him that he and I had fucked without either of our partners.
Suddenly, Jill was unavailable to me, not returning calls or texts. That was when Jim told me that she hated me because of what Frank and I had done, and was trying to destroy my marriage. It is a tribute to Jim’s love for me and his forgiving nature that we reestablished our married connection relatively easily.
Of course, I threw my body at him to the point that he claimed to need help keeping up. That was my chance to suggest that we play with Frank. I thought it was going well, but Jim overheard me and Frank discussing plans to cuckold him.
I still could not get my head around Jim’s do/don’t criteria and I was losing patience with his demands when Frank started to make demands, among them that I leave Jim. Not only do I still love Jim and want to stay with him, but in no way would I let Frank pimp me out to his buddies.
We are now in a monogamous mode. I understand that he feels threatened by Frank after hearing him ask me to leave our marriage, but he isn’t married to Frank; it is my integrity that should matter, my word that should count.
Like many men, he thinks that I am helpless to resist another man’s overtures, but he should know better. I have been getting hit on by men my whole adult life and have only succumbed to one, Frank.
But that may soon change. I am feeling in my sexual prime right now and I don’t want to be regretful when my body starts to break down. I am very much in danger of taking a lover, but in truth I would prefer Frank, a known quantity.
I’m going to try one more time to have a rational discussion with my husband, and convince him that our best route to happiness in our retirement is for us both to enjoy some extra-marital sex, me with Frank, him with Helen perhaps.
We sat down one evening and I decided to make my case:
“John, let’s try to find a common ground going forward. You are about to retire fully, meaning we are going to be in each other's business a lot from now on. We have not had that situation since we were in college, even then we had separate activities and schedules.
“I do not claim to have been an obedient, submissive wife, but I have been an honest and trustworthy partner to you, and faithful according to my lights, if not yours.
“Your position vis a vis recreational sex is not logically valid; you want us to fuck around but only when and with whom you say. I am not your property, I’m a free adult who has needs and wants to attend to them, at least in the near term.
“I know Frank let his male ego get the better of him and tried to have me to himself. That was his head talking; it’s his cock that I’m interested in. Rather than give me up, I’m sure he can be made to behave.
If my fucking him is a deal breaker for you, I will have to search around for a replacement. You will not like what that may entail, and I probably won’t either.
“We have ample money to bring Helen here often or for us, you and I to visit her. I feel no jealousy or antagonism toward her; I like her. I hope that you continue to have a close relationship with her.
“I want to repeat here, I love you and want us to stay together. You are and will always be the man I love, and you do bring me great pleasure sexually. But I have discovered there is more and I want it. Can you trust me and be secure enough to let me have a fuck buddy now and then?”
Jim thought for a long time, causing me to wonder if I have poisoned the well.
“Cassandra, I address you formally since this feels like a business negotiation. I have been waiting for this moment, with great trepidation. Thank you for not just stepping out behind my back. That would be the kiss of death to our marriage for sure.
“I have come to accept that your libido is strong now and I believe you when you say you have been faithful in your own way. Can you put some parameters on your needs?”
“Yes. Assuming that Frank will do as told, I would like to play with him at his place only, twice per month, and I would like to spend the night there with him alone. You should never have to meet him.”
“You would be pretty worn out the next day; no sex for me, I guess. What if he brings a buddy home?”
“That would end it; though if the friend was cute, I might go home with him and leave Frank to jerk off by himself.” My poor joke fell flat.
“Cassie, I can’t promise that I can do this. If it is important enough for you to risk our relationship, not to mention our marriage, I guess you have to do it. I have to trust you and try. I hope you can juggle it.”
“Darling, please promise me one thing, that if you can’t stand it you will give me a chance to make it right with you.”
Cass, you have had all the chances I can give; this is it. When will your first night out be?”
I went to bed that night with a feeling of dread; I had not shown my love sufficiently to my loving husband. I fear our time together is limited. We did not make love.
