I Let My Boyfriend Have Sex With Another Woman

Steven, my childhood sweetheart, informed me about his new coworker, Sandra, when I was 20 years old.

He characterized her as a widow who flirted with all the young men at work and wore skintight, low-cut shirts.

"Does she make eye contact with you?" Alarmed, I inquired.

Steven smiled and said, "She tries." He appeared almost proud at first, but then his expression became frozen. "Don't be scared. "I'm not interested in her in that way."

After that, he attempted to divert the subject. However, I continued to follow him around the home, interrogating him about Sandra's attitude and looks.

Steven and I had been dating since we were 13, and I was worried that our paths might soon separate. What if Sandra was planning to steal him? I was frightened by the thought.

I had no idea what life would be like without Steven because I had grown up loving him. He, on the other hand, constantly appeared to be planning some new adventure that didn't include me.

He would frequently say things like, "One day, I'm going to move to Europe," without elaborating on where that would leave me. In a twisted sense, I believe he liked seeing me shake at the prospect of his departure.

I had no idea how bad our relationship was because I was young and inexperienced at the time. Steven discovered a photo of his business Christmas party and pointed Sandra out to me, adding to my anxieties.

She was a supermodel-like blonde with seductive feline eyes and beautiful, shapely legs. When I saw her photo, my heart fell.

"She's stunning," I murmured, my voice hushed and depressed.

"Not as beautiful as you!" Steven responded right away.

That helped my naive 20-year-old self feel better for a time.

Steven revealed to me that Sandra had a sexual fantasy**.

When Steven's birthday rolled around a few months later, I asked him if there was anything he wanted as a present.

At the time, we were in bed. I asked the question as I lay in his arms after we'd finished having sex.

Before responding, he took a slow, deep breath in.

"This year, I'd like for us to do something special together." It may seem strange at first, but if you're willing to be open-minded, it has the potential to draw us both closer."

As he went on, I recall feeling a chill run through me.

Steven informed me that Sandra had a sexual obsession. She enjoyed having sex with young guys in front of their girlfriends, and she'd approached him at work.

He acted as though Sandra had approached him out of nowhere. It seemed as though he lacked his own desire or interest.

But I could tell he was delighted by the concept by the way he bit back his smile. He had a hungry, sexual light in his eyes, and his muscles were rigid with repressed energy.

"Everything would be legal," he insisted. "I mean, you'd be on the lookout!" So we wouldn't be messing around behind your back."

"This is something I'm not sure about." My voice sounded unsteady and rough. My vision was disturbed by hot, scratchy tears. I suffocated them.

"Come on, Cathy," He says. Steven gently brushed my cheek. "Aren't you fascinated?" "Don't you want to try something new?" says Cathy.

I wanted to say "no" bluntly, but I didn't want to restrict Steven's options. I was frequently concerned that he found our seven-year relationship boring and restricting.

Steven would break up with me if I refused, and he would go forward with his new adventures regardless if I refused.

So, what would I do then?

My cheek was drenched in a single tear. Steven brushed it aside with a kiss.

He groaned and moved away from me, as if I had exhausted him. "That's such a pity, Cathy. You used to be such a hoot."

It was his dissatisfaction in his tone that did it.

"All right," I said quietly. "I'll give it a go."

Things took a surprising turn**.

Sandra arrived at our house on Steven's birthday evening.

She was much more lovely in person than I'd anticipated, lithe and sensual. She was dressed in a black velvet gown and perfumed with a seductive, smoky scent.

In her company, I could only manage broken sentences due to a combination of envy, nervousness, and astonishment.

She, on the other hand, seemed to be able to strike up a conversation with ease. She appeared to be used to social gatherings.

Unfortunately, this meant she and Steven developed a friendly relationship. Meanwhile, like some kind of insignificant fly, I lingered dumbly in their proximity.

We retired to the bedroom after several glasses of wine.

Steven and Sandra sat on the bed, while I took a seat on the couch. I drank more wine to keep myself from freaking out when they started kissing.

Sandra's bra was unhooked by Steven. Her breasts enlarged from her body. I took a deep breath... Then something strange happened. It occurred to me that seeing her was quite interesting.

I believe it was due to her facetious demeanor. She wasn't scared to express her desires to Steven. She pushed him into position against her hips by wrapping her legs around him. She snatched his hand and pressed it against her boobs, then flung her head back and groaned as he touched her.

Their motions became increasingly intense, but I couldn't take my gaze away. Despite my expectations of being furious with Sandra, I was fascinated and turned on by her.

I thought she was the most stunning lady I'd ever seen, and I could feel Steven's desire for her.

She made eye contact with me as he drove himself deep within her. Instead of rejecting her, I felt a strong bond with her. It seemed as though we were experiencing a mystical experience.

I rubbed my hands together and locked my focus on her. Surprisingly, we reached a climax together.

Sandra obtained a job in a new state shortly after that, and we never talked about it again.

Even now, more than a decade later, I recall that night and the unexpected emotions it caused.

I've subsequently discovered that I could be a "bondage fetish."

I'd like to make one point very clear.

As I previously stated, the experience was eventually excellent. That, on the other hand, was a miracle. Neither Steven, Sandra, nor I did a good job of planning the experience.

Steven practically forced me into the session by hinting that my nervousness made me dull.

When Sandra arrived at my house, she made no attempt to get to know me, make me feel at ease, or understand my requirements.

Finally, since I was uncomfortable and frightened of losing Steven, I consented to the encounter. I didn't want to come out as a spoilsport or as if I was holding him back.

Despite these obvious flaws, we all had a good time — but luck was a big part of it

It might have easily turned out to be a total tragedy. It almost was, if it hadn't been for a particular kink I found that night.

I've spent a long time attempting to comprehend my sexuality, and I'm still learning. However, I suppose I am a bondage fetish since I loved seeing Sandra having sex with Steven.

A cuckquean is a "woman who likes the voyeuristic sensation of watching her lover having sex with someone else," according to Fetlife's kink vocabulary.

It was almost as if I was Sandra as I watched Steven have sex with her. I was grateful she brought Steven so much pleasure, and I felt closer to him because of her.

That doesn't mean I'm OK to have my partners cheat on me at any time. My arousal occurred in a very unique circumstance that night. I have yet to go further into this kink of mine, but I may do so in the future.

If there's one thing I want to leave you with right now, it's this.

Yes, there is a creepy pervert. Rude and disrespectful couples, jealousy, and poor communication all contribute to this. Those things may be damaging whether you're a creepy pervert or not.

So, if you're going to investigate a sensitive aspect of your sexuality, please proceed with caution!