Never Say Never

by Alison Tyler

  Christ, it was all Killian’s fault. That was the truth. He was the one who had initiated this fantasy. He was the one who made the scene so real in my mind that I could feel a stranger’s palm stroking my skin, look up and stare into another man’s eyes.

  “Oh, they’ll all see you,” Killian assured me.

  I shook my head. I bit my lip. And then I whispered, “Yes.”

  “Four on the Floor” is a sexy swap in the same room:

  The TV stayed on the whole time we were there. Muted, but on. We had crazy sex right on the caramel-colored shag rug in front of it, while heavy metal bands played for us in silence. It was like doing it onstage with Guns & Roses. Surreal, but not a turn-off.

  I remember a lot of wetness—her mouth, his mouth, her pussy. I remember Sam leaning against the wood-paneled wall at one point in the evening and watching, just watching the three of us entwined, the TV-glow flickering over us, my slim body stretched out between our new lovers. I felt beloved as their fingers stroked me, as they took turns tasting me, splitting my legs as wide as possible and getting in between. I held my arms over my head and Sam bent down and gripped my wrists tight while Pamela licked at me like a pussycat at a saucer of milk.

  Scenes flowed through the night, lubricated by our red-wine daze, and we moved easily from one position to another. Pamela bent on her knees at Sam’s feet and brought her mouth to his cock. I worked Andy, bobbing up and down, and after he came for the first time, I moved over to Pamela’s side, so we could take turns drinking from Sam. I was reeling with the wonder of it. The illusion that anything was possible. Any position, any desire.

  “You like that?” Andy asked when I returned to his side, pointing to Pamela as she sucked off my husband. “You like watching?”

  I nodded.

  “What else do you like?”

  “I like that you spanked her,” I confessed in a soft voice.

  “Ah,” he smiled. “So you’re a bad girl, too.”

  Yet for some inexplicable reason, lately I tend to be drawn to the concept of a good, old-fashioned gang bang, like in “Last Call”:

  I want the bartender to close and lock the front door at the bar. “What happens in The Local, stays in The Local,” I want some wiseass to say. There will be laughter, of the nervous variety, and the men will try not to look into one another’s eyes. Because what we’re going to do here is a gang bang, and brother, when you say those words aloud, people get jittery.

  This isn’t non-con, mind you. I am not asking for something from Last Exit to Brooklyn. Don’t leave me unconscious on an old vinyl car seat behind the bar. Yes, I want the abuse, but I want to revel in every moment. In fact, I want to name the lineup. That’s why we have to wait until closing time, when everyone else can leave except for the five men I’ve chosen.

  The concept of bringing new partners into a relationship doesn’t only mean the more the merrier. There are so many emotional aspects to trading. In “Nights Out,” Tenille Brown writes:

  This was her favorite part, the good-byes, though it probably shouldn’t be. The jealous eyes were all but genuine as they issued quick kisses and last-minute rules.

  No long embraces…

  No funny stories…

  Just a fly-by-night fuck is all it is…

  …all it will ever be…

  It couldn’t be normal, she was convinced. She was at least supposed to be more hesitant than she was, but right now her thighs were sliding against each other, and barely able to hold her up.

  She was someone else’s tonight, and so was he. Only a wall separated their respective escapades. He could hear her moan if he listened closely. She could hear him issue instructions if she tamed her own enjoyment.

  In their room, she let her new partner do things she didn’t allow her husband to, and that was the most thrilling thing of all, like biting her… as long as he didn’t leave any marks. And she let her new partner pull her hair. She didn’t even know she liked that part until he grabbed the first handful and now she couldn’t get enough.

  She imagined her husband was doing the same, breaking the handed down rules. But after all, weren’t they both allowed? Wasn’t that what this thing was for?

  She bent over for a spanking.

  She told him, “Just do it, already.”

  Giselle Renarde’s “The Couple with the Dragon Tattoo,” features a multicultural MF/FF swap.

  Just when I thought Lilliana would kiss my boyfriend’s knuckles, she extended his index finger and slowly closed her mouth around it. Ger let out a glorious groan that pulsed inside my core. It was mesmerizing and magnificent to watch her sucking those fingers like five little cocks, devoting care and attention to one and all. She was a minx, that girl. My excitement at having her in our bedroom was surpassed only by the control in Vijee’s eyes as she looked on.

  Vijee leaned against the bed and patted the mattress.

  “Come, Marva,

  sit.”

  Lilliana nodded in eager acquiescence, her mauve-gray eyes on me all the while. My pussy throbbed. I could have sworn my feet never touched the ground as I cut a quick path to the bed.

  We watched in silence as Lilliana unbuttoned Gerry’s shirt, sucking his fingers all the while. The sound of his belt unbuckling and his trousers unzipping summoned the sweetest of aches between my legs, and I was certain Vijee recognized my distress. I watched her watching me in the mirrored wardrobe. Vijee and I were so much darker than Lilliana and Gerry, and I wasn’t sure what that meant, if it meant anything at all.

  “Does this make you jealous?” Vijee asked, as we watched Lilliana pumping Ger’s erection in her smallish hand. “My girlfriend jerking off your dear Gerry—are you envious at all?”

  “Envious? Yes. I love touching my boyfriend’s cock. But jealous? No.”

  Envy and jealousy can be introduced to a new emotion (perhaps at a cocktail party) often discussed in open relationships. Xan West writes in “Compersion”:

  It’s called compersion. A dyke friend who teaches classes on open relationships taught me the word for it. Compersion. It even sounds dirty. She said that the kind I do is called erotic compersion, when you get off on watching your partner fuck someone else.

  Opening up to an open relationship (within whatever confines feels safe to you) often takes time—and a great deal of trust. You can always start small, with words, fantasies and fiction.

  TANTALIZING TIPS

  •Find a favorite foursome (or “moresome”) story to share with your partner. Really put yourself into the plot, pretending that you are one of the players. See how your body reacts to this sensual idea.

  •Interested in exploring the option in real life? Check out Tristan Taormino’s exquisite Opening Up: A Guide to Creating and Sustaining Open Relationships.

  •Some partners enjoy swapping in the same room. Others prefer to go solo. Discuss which situation is more of a turn-on for the two of you. (Or try both!)

  FICTION: SOFT SWAPPING

  SYZYGY

  ASHLEY LISTER

  Syzygy?” Becky repeated. She pronounced the word as Rob had done: SIZ-uh-jee. Unable to keep the skepticism from her tone she said, “Are you sure that’s the safeword you want us to use tonight?”

  He shrugged. “It seems appropriate. Amongst other definitions, it’s a Jungian term meaning a union of two opposites.”

  Becky said nothing. She was wondering how she could fit the word syzygy into a casual sentence should she need to call a halt to events later in the evening. She was familiar with using safewords with Rob. When they had been playing S/M games they had employed a variety of safewords such as Shakespeare and carburetor: words that were extremely unlikely to occur by chance during the passion of an erotic encounter.

  But this evening promised to be different on so many levels. This evening they were playing with another couple. And, she supposed, that meant the use of a different type of safeword.

  Rob pressed the doorbell.

  Becky stiffened.
Her heartbeat was already racing. The idea of how the evening might develop tightened her stomach into knots of anticipation. She was grateful when Rob reached out and squeezed her hand with a gesture of understanding and reassurance.

  She squeezed back and hoped he didn’t notice that her hands were trembling.

  “We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want us to do.”

  She nodded. He had said the same thing to her many times before. And she had said the same thing to him. It was a credo by which they both lived. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want to do this with him. She was only hesitant because she had no idea what the evening might entail.

  The door opened.

  Dan and Jan stood before them. They were smiling warm welcomes that looked as exciting as the pictures Becky had seen on the swinging website where they first organized this meet. The four of them shook hands, bussed cheeks with smiles and greeted one another with hurried welcomes that told Becky the couple were as nervous as she and Rob.

  The artificiality of being kissed on the cheek by a stranger struck Becky as unpleasant and unwanted and she wondered why she had ever desired something like this evening’s planned encounter. She kept the thought to herself, remembering that there would always be an opportunity to use the safeword if she chose. At the moment she figured it was more likely that nervousness was dictating her likes and dislikes more than any genuine enjoyment.

  “Drinks?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Dan played a generous host, escorting them into a stylish lounge with muted lighting, a single settee and a plasma TV. Jan kept glancing at Becky and Rob, her gaze flashing between one and the other with hungry enthusiasm.

  And, while she hadn’t really enjoyed the artificiality of the kiss on the cheek, Becky did like being the object of the woman’s sexual interest.

  She took a seat in the center of the single settee and accepted a vodka from Dan.

  Jan sat next to Becky and gave her a reassuring smile. “Nervous?”

  “A little,” Becky admitted. “This is our first time.”

  Jan placed a hand on Becky’s knee.

  The sensation of the woman’s warm fingertips touching the bare skin of her flesh made the inner muscles of Becky’s sex clench hungrily. Of all the things that she had expected to happen this evening, the surge of arousal from another woman’s interest and touch was not one of them.

  She wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with those responses.

  She struggled to try to remember the safeword that Rob had suggested. Her mind was momentarily blank and all she could recollect was that it was some pretentious word that she would never use during the course of normal conversation.

  Silently she cursed him for being such a word snob.

  “I’m sure we’ll have fun,” Jan insisted. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

  Dan joined his partner on the settee and nodded for Rob to join Becky. The four of them sat in front of the large TV screen, each holding their drinks as they chatted about the journey and then went on to discuss the pros and cons of the various websites they all knew.

  The air was rich with the scents of perfume, the sounds of strained laughter and the tension of simmering sexual excitement. Becky silently savored the pleasure of being in the company of broadminded adults who shared her desire to explore new and unconventional ways of achieving satisfaction. The prospect of what might happen as the evening developed made gooseflesh prickle her arms.

  Syzygy, Becky remembered suddenly. A Jungian term meaning a union of two opposites. How the hell am I supposed to say that without it sounding like a safeword? She could imagine herself screaming the word in terror as she bolted from Dan and Jan’s home. The idea was so comical she almost blurted laughter.

  “You two were interested in a soft swap, weren’t you?”

  Becky nodded as she sipped her vodka.

  She had scoured through several online glossaries to understand all the terminology in the sexually adventurous world of swapping and sharing but it was like learning a different language. There were so many new phrases and euphemisms it seemed impossible to keep abreast of them all. No one had sex on these sites—couples simply played. According to her favorite site a soft swap was a situation where two couples played in the same room, but they only played with their original partners. Excitement came from the exhibitionist pleasure of performing for a small audience, and the voyeuristic excitement of seeing another couple playing in such close proximity.

  “Soft swap,” Becky repeated. “That’s right.”

  The words tasted dangerous.

  Considering the glint she could see in Jan’s eyes, she knew that the other woman understood exactly what she was hoping to get from the evening. The idea that they were both in tune with the other’s needs was sufficiently exciting to make her stomach knot with fresh arousal.

  “I think a soft swap is the right way for any couple to test the waters of the lifestyle,” Jan confided. She glanced back to Dan. Her smile showed a solidarity of spirit. “It’s how we started. It’s a favorite that we keep going back to when we want to get to know another couple.”

  Her fingers returned to Becky’s leg. This time she squeezed higher up the thigh. Becky was aware of her sex growing moist and warm. Her breasts suddenly ached with longing and she realized her nipples were painfully hard and pushing against the tight fabric of her blouse.

  “Rest assured,” Jan promised, “if we think you guys are going too fast for us, we’ll say something. I trust you’ll do the same for us?”

  Becky nodded.

  Dan had a remote in his hand. He pointed it toward the TV set and said, “Are we okay to have a little something playing in the background?”

  As no one objected, he pressed the PLAY button and the TV came to life.

  Becky was not surprised that the film was a porno. She would have been disturbed if the couple had decided to develop the mood by playing a musical or an action thriller. Under the circumstances a porno seemed like the most appropriate choice of film genre.

  But it did come as a surprise to her that the film starred Jan.

  The opening screen showed Jan’s face in the throes of ecstasy. The wobbling camera angle moved back to show that her shoulders were bare. Then it showed her boobs. They were round and inviting and looked as though they had been sculpted beneath the knife of a perfectionist surgeon.

  Becky squirmed with a small spike of jealousy.

  As the camera panned back, it revealed that Jan was completely naked. Her stomach was flat. Her muscles were small but beautifully defined. Her pussy was completely free from hair. Between her legs she held a buzzing dildo and pressed it deep into the center of her sex.

  Becky stifled a gasp.

  She had seen pornos before. But she had never looked at erotic images of someone else while sitting next to her on a settee. The idea was enough to make her sex feel oily with anticipation.

  Rob crossed his legs.

  Jan laughed. It wasn’t an unkind sound. She reached across Becky and placed a hand on Rob’s thigh. Becky could smell the lightly floral fragrance of the woman’s perfume. She drank the scent greedily. It was like inhaling raw sex appeal.

  “There’s no need to hide the fact that you’ve been turned on,” Jan assured Rob. “In truth, I’m flattered. Dan is probably excited by the fact that you’re excited. And I suspect that Becky isn’t repulsed by your arousal.”

  Slowly, with an apologetic grin, Rob lowered the protective leg.

  Becky wondered how she should respond to the situation. A woman she had known for only a few minutes was encouraging Rob to be aroused at a film of her wanking. She reflected on the situation for a moment and then realized this was just as thrilling as she had hoped it would be when she and Rob arranged to meet the other couple. She reached to touch Rob’s leg, eager to reassure him that she was sharing his excitement. Her hand touched high and, once she had given his thigh a reassuring squeeze, she allowed
her fingers to slip a little higher and brush the thrust of his excitement.

  As she had guessed, he was already hard.

  His erection twitched beneath her touch.

  Rob sighed.

  Becky cast a nervous glance toward Jan and Dan. She was worried that the noise might be too loud. She was worried that stroking her boyfriend’s bulge might have overstepped the boundaries of polite activity in the home of their new friends. Even though she knew she and Rob were only visiting Dan and Jan with the intention of participating in a soft swap, it still seemed prudent to make sure she hadn’t gone too far in exploiting their hospitality.

  Jan was bent over Dan’s lap.

  Becky couldn’t see what was happening but she recognized the movement of Jan’s head sliding back and forth.

  On the plasma screen Jan was grunting through a noisy orgasm. The dildo was buried deep into her sex, and she was writhing happily on its thickness. On the video, Becky could hear Dan murmuring words of encouragement from behind the camera.

  And on the settee beside her, she saw Dan had now turned to grin at her while Jan sucked his cock.

  The sudden rush of arousal was fluid and delicious.

  Becky grinned for him. At the same time she reached back to Rob and her fingers again found his erection. He was still hard and she tugged his zip downward.

  Rob’s hand caught her wrist. He leaned close and pressed a kiss against her neck beneath her ear.

  “Are you sure about this?” he whispered.

  Instead of answering with words, Becky released his erection from his pants. His length was already at full hardness and so she simply stroked her fingers up and down him with loving affection.

  “Nice cock,” Jan muttered.

  Becky hadn’t even noticed that the woman was now facing them. Jan spoke while her lips were kissing the tip of Dan’s substantial length. The woman’s tongue lapped at the glossy flesh of Dan’s hardness.

  “If you need lube or anything, we’ve got tubes in those drawers,” Jan said. She nodded toward a corner unit. “Or if you need your drinks refilled or—”