Papa Bear and I have been having amazing sex. It has been off the charts. Every time is different and sexy and hot.
A few weeks ago we finally engaged in consensual non-consent (rape play). It is something I have been wanting forever, but it takes a lot of trust and a deep understanding of the other person in order for it to feel and be safe for both parties. We have talked about it enough that finally, one night, we just did it.
I started by teasing him. Doing a little strip tease, then dropping my dress back into place over my legs and pushing my thighs together.
I’d open my legs and play with myself a bit, then close them and wink. He’d kiss me and grope me and I’d reciprocate for a minute or two…and then scamper off.
Eventually, knowing exactly what I was up to and what I wanted, he pushed my legs open and used his mouth on me. I was clearly enjoying it, but I struggled, because that made it hotter.
He grabbed my wrist and pushed me towards the bedroom and threw me on the bed. I went back and forth between fighting him off and coming so hard I could barely stand it.
He choked me and spanked me and held my wrists against the bed, and I loved every second.
It was beyond hot, but of course, TOTALLY consensual. After two years of talking about it, we were comfortable and intimate enough to go there.
That is the difference between rape, and rape play. Rape play is fun for both of you.
The view from Papa Bear’s high rise is magnificent. I love sitting in this comfy lounge chair, watching the sun come up, watching the sun go down, watching the city lights at night, or the mist rising over the skyline in mid-morning.
I love our quiet time. I love drinking my coffee while he makes bacon, or just snuggling together and enjoying the fact that we have nowhere to be and nothing to do.
I love our little happy place at the top of the world.
I couldn’t breathe. I literally could not breathe. It wasn’t warm out anymore, but I rolled down my window and tried desperately to get my lungs to inflate. I started to dry-sob. I felt like I might puke. I asked Papa Bear to open the other windows, and when that didn’t work, to open the moon roof.
We were on the highway and I just needed him to pull over so I could get out of the car. “Can you find a gas station?” I gasped. He said, with a look of absolute panic on his face, that he would pull over as soon as he found one.
It was clear he hadn’t the slightest idea what to do.
When he finally found a place to stop, I got out of the car, told him to stay where he was, and ran inside for a pack of cigarettes. I have been trying very hard not to smoke, but this was an emergency. I sat outside the car, on the curb, and smoked one, and then another, and slowly my heart-rate returned to normal.
I walked slowly towards the car, got in, and then said “So you’re a dom now?”
Papa Bear is my “Daddy”, as we refer to it in kink circles. But he could never really do the dom thing. He helps me be disciplined in areas of my life that I need it, and he takes care of me and nurtures my inner baby girl. But he has made it clear from the start–even when The Ex-Wifey discovered she was a submissive and wanted him to beat her–that he is not dominant in that way. We actually took almost 6 months off from our Daddy/Baby Girl relationship when things were bad with The Wifey, and had just started dipping our toes back into him being my Daddy again. So all I could think was “But he will dom Nerd Girl. For HER, he’s a dom!?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not a dom now.”
“Then what the hell?? Why the hell did you nod when she asked if you would go down the dom road with her!?”
“It was awkward. She said it in front of you guys and I didn’t want to be like ‘Um, hold up, no’. I figured I’d sort it out with her next time we talk. And I kind of thought she was just asking if its okay that she’s a submissive, not that she wants me to be her dom.”
“Well, no,” I said. “That’s not how she put it. She asked you to ‘go down that road’ with her. She obviously thinks you’re her dom now.”
He said he had no intention of being her dom, or anyone else’s. “I had fun with her,” he said, “but flogging her did nothing for me. I wasn’t even a little bit turned on, even though she was buck ass naked and moaning like crazy. It’s not my thing.”
“Then why does she need a special name for you? Why does she now, after one night, need you to have a Dom title?”
“That freaked me out too,” he said. “She should just call me my name. I don’t want a title with anyone but you.”
I calmed down by a fraction of a decibel.
“What else upset you?” he asked.
“Well, you didn’t use a condom,” I said. “You said you would use a condom with anyone else, and you didn’t. So I guess you’ll need to buy some to use with me, since you want to be fluid-bonded with her now.”
He apologized profusely. He said it was idiotic. That he put the condom on, and it came off, and then he didn’t grab another one. He said there was no excuse. He promised it wouldn’t happen again.
But I couldn’t stop shaking and my teeth kept chattering.
“What else?” he asked.
“She wants to come spend nights at your house so she doesn’t have to go home from work? You just moved out! We literally just got to a place where we don’t need to wait til your wife is out to see each other, and you said I could come over after work, or spend the night and go to work from your place in the morning, and now she thinks she should be doing that? I have been waiting this entire relationship to get to have that kind of time with you, and after one night, she gets to reap the benefits of all our pain and all the hard decisions we’ve made, and now I have to check with you to find out if Nerd Girl is coming over before I can!?”
“No,” he said. “I told her when we chatted last week, that I am not looking for another girlfriend, and that’s still true. I have been waiting so long for us to be able to have to space to just be together. I love how easy it has been since I moved out, and how happy we have been, and I have no intention of suddenly having another woman staying over at my place all the time.”
“She already wants to see you on Friday. That’s the only night I can stay over when we don’t have to rush because of everyone’s work schedule. You said I could spend Friday night. Why does she think she is spending Friday night?”
“I have no idea,”he said. “She had already asked me about my schedule when we were in bed. I told her that the only night I have free this week is Friday, and that I usually spend Fridays with you.”
“Then why did she say that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking truly confused. “But her intensity is freaking me out.”
“Do you want to spend Friday night with her?” I asked quietly. “I’m not going to pull rank and say you can’t if that’s what you want to do.”
“No,” he said emphatically. “I’m not going to say I would never go out with anyone else on a Friday night, but right now you and I need that time. And I want to spend it with you. I don’t want to give it up. And I just met her. I don’t know her. ”
“Yet,” I said.
“Look,” he told me. “The first time you and I were together, something amazing happened between us. We clicked and we connected in so many ways. I knew you were my soul mate, even if I couldn’t put it into words. Even before we met, even when we were just chatting on OkCupid and texting, I felt like I knew you. I don’t feel that way about her. And even though you and I might start dating other people eventually, I have no desire to do that right now. We need space and time to figure out how to just be together. You are my world.”
We were driving now, but I asked him to pull over. I said I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know whether I should go home and be by myself, or go with him. I didn’t know whether we should try to talk this out, or just move on from it.
We got out of the car. He said he still wanted to talk. And in the distance, I spotted blue and green colours dancing across the sky. On our second date, we’d tried to find them, but couldn’t. That was the night he was talking about–the night we ended up on top of each other in the backseat, with our souls fused.
“Do you want to go see the Northern Lights?” I asked.
“Really?” he said, looking relieved and grateful.
“Really,” I answered.
And so we did.
A couple weeks back, Papa Bear and I went on a double date with another poly couple. We had been meaning to get together with them for months and months, but with life being crazy, this was the first time we actually had a chance to hang out since meeting them at a poly event last November. We met for all-you-can-eat sushi, and sat and talked and got to know each other. It was a nice night, and Papa Bear and I were excited at the prospect of having some new poly friends.
After dinner we went and sat on the patio of a cafe and had coffee. When it got too cold to be outside anymore, we walked to our cars, exchanged hugs all around, ad said we’d have to get together again soon.
I asked Papa Bear if he liked the girlfriend (who we’ll call Nerd Girl). He said he thought she was cute and liked how nerdy she was, but he knew she wouldn’t be interested in him and he was cool with that. I didn’t disagree with him. She is 24 (a full 21 years younger than Papa Bear) and made a point of telling us that she is basically a lesbian and the only man she is into is her boyfriend.
He asked me if I’d like to fuck her.
“Possibly,” I said. “We’ll see.”
“Would you want to fuck him?” he asked.
“Maybe, but I think he might be a little young for me.” The boyfriend, who we’ll call The Sheriff, is 27 to my 31–and I usually go for older men.
I continued to chat with The Sheriff on Facebook messenger, as we had been doing semi-regularly since we first met. The conversation turned kind of sexy, and then I got drunk one night, causing the conversation to turn very sexy.
During that talk, he told me that Nerd Girl has a major crush on Papa Bear. I immediately texted him and told him, and we were both excited about the possibility of this leading to fun, sexy times.
The next weekend (just a week after Papa Bear moved into his own place), they invited us to a barbecue. We went in with no expectations, but hoping we might end up making out a little at the end of the night or something.
We all started drinking immediately, and there was a decent crowd. It wasn’t a ton of people, maybe 10-12. We spent most of the daylight hours getting to know Nerd Girl and The Sheriff and their friends, and it was fun. Then, after a few more drinks than was probably advisable, Nerd Girl asked me to go upstairs with her and help her change into a shorter dress.
I suddenly got the impression that it was going to turn into That Kind of Party. The dress was short–it was pretty much showing her ass cheeks! When I tried to help her figure out the strings on it, neither of us could get it, and we started giggling.
When we came back downstairs The Sheriff told us that he figured based on our giggles, that we were probably fucking. I assured him that no fucking had taken place! We moved the furniture around so that the kitchen table was in front of the sectional, and we could all comfortably sit and play Cards Against Humanity.
I ended up setting between The Sheriff and Papa Bear, and Nerd Girl ended up on Papa Bear’s other side. We hadn’t even made it through a full round of the game, before Nerd Girl took her dress off, got out a flogger, and started taking volunteers for who wanted to beat her.
Some of the guys happily obliged, and took turns leaving welts on her ass. I watched, until The Sheriff started kissing my ear. “You smell amazing,” he said, and when I turned to respond, our lips met. Within less than a minute his hand was up my dress, and he was massaging me through my panties, which were immediately soaked. We continued kissing and he rubbed me off until I came, and then he got up to go do something.
Papa Bear was still sitting beside me, and he took advantage of my flipped up dress, and stuck his face between my legs. It had been a long-standing fantasy of ours, for him to eat me out in a room full of people, so he definitely wasted no time and spared no effort. He made me come again, and then Nerd Girl came and sat beside me and we started making out. Papa Bear pushed his fingers into me, hitting my g-spot, and then started to lick her cooch. We both moaned loudly and continued making out. I found her nipple and pinched it between my fingers. She said I should do it harder, and I did, but I still don’t think it was hard enough for her. She is a self-confessed pain-slut. Papa Bear alternated between the two of us, always with his hand inside one and his tongue inside the other.
Eventually I excused myself to get another drink, and then I padded down to the basement to use the bathroom. While I was down there I ran into The Sheriff, who grabbed me and kissed me and pushed me into the den. When Nerd Girl (his kinda-submissive) came down to ask his permission to fuck Papa Bear, my legs were wrapped around his head, so he just gave the go-ahead with a hand signal.
He fucked me hard. He pinned me to the couch. He choked me when my screams got too loud, which made me come harder. He fucked my face with his thick cock, until my make-up ran and my body shook and whimpers rose from my throat. He pulled my hair and I dug my nails into any part of him I could find.
When we went back upstairs and I tried to talk, I realized I’d lost my voice. Yes, I am a screamer. I went to the bedroom and watched Papa Bear flog Nerd Girl for awhile, and then, satisfied that they were having a good time, but feeling like a third wheel, I got up to head downstairs.
“Why are you leaving?” asked Papa Bear, with a big smile on his face. “Come over to the bed”
“I have to pee,” I said, which was true, but I didn’t go back. Instead I returned to the party.
Everyone except Papa Bear and Nerd Girl decided to go for a walk, so we stumbled, in various states of drunkenness, through the neighbourhood. The Sheriff held my hand and we chatted about movies and music, and then we all stopped for a drink, then returned to the house.
Nerd Girl and Papa Bear were still upstairs, but when they heard us they came down and joined us. I was just thinking it had been a really fun night, when Nerd Girl, who was sitting beside Papa Bear and kissing him over and over, started talking to him.
“I’m so glad you live so close to my work, because now I can come spend the night whenever I’m too tired to go home!”
“Yeah, we were fooling around and the next thing I knew we were fucking bareback!” she told her boyfriend with a giggle.
“Are you okay with going down the Dom road with me? Because I really don’t think I can be anything other than a submissive,” she asked Papa Bear.
“I’m going to have to figure out what to call you…” she said to him, gazing starry-eyed at his bewildered face.
“Now we can swap books!”
Then she called her boss to ask for her schedule, and squealed about the fact that she had the next Friday off. “I’m so glad I have this Friday off so we can spend the night together. Are you free Friday?”
And I watched her, like I was watching some kind of exotic creature I’d never before seen, either up close, or depicted on television. And I tried to keep the blood from rushing to my head as he told her he really had no idea what his schedule would be like but that he’s pretty busy.
And I hugged her good bye when they walked us to the car, and gave The Sheriff a good night kiss, and waited until the door closed and we were driving away, before I had a full-blown panic attack.
Papa Bear moved out.
He has been in his new apartment a week today.
He tells me he is so, incredibly happy. And he seems happy. He gets to wake up later in the morning because he doesn’t have to make coffee for the Ex-Wifey before he leaves for work. His commute is shorter and easier. And he is way closer to where I live.
Instead of getting home from work and dreading what he is going to be in trouble for now, or what he is going to have to do for the Ex-Wifey, he just comes home and does whatever he wants. He relaxes. Or takes a nap. Or puts together furniture in his underwear. Or walks around naked.
His apartment is nice. It’s small, but new. Hardwood floors and lots of windows, in a high rise downtown with a gym and a pool. He is excited to have my kids over to swim.
Still, sometimes, the immensity of what has happened overcomes him. Still he tells me, sometimes he wonders “What have I done?”
I understand. Who wouldn’t have those reservations? What kind of person would leave a 20+ year marriage without some second thoughts? When he feels that though, he reminds himself of how bad it was. And of everything he has gained. And the panic slowly fades.
He says I am the most important thing in the world to him. I think its because I support his freedom, and respect his autonomy. Also, of course, is our amazing, heart-stopping, intense connection that just continues to grow and grow.
We are both so relieved–if that’s an appropriate word to use. We just want to be together, without having to walk on egg shells, or wait for permission, or feel guilty. He tells me he is excited about our life together, and being able to define it without a bunch of constraints.
I agree. We are soul mates. And now we can stop pretending that that doesn’t matter.
In the midst of all the Boss Man craziness, Papa Bear and I took our vacation into the mountains. It was absolutely perfect. It was off season at the resort, so the place was pretty well deserted. We spent four days cooking, snuggling, drinking, wandering through town, swimming in the natural spring pools, and screwing.
One night, after coming in from the hot tub, we fell into bed naked. We kissed feverishly, drunkenly, and started groping and sucking and fucking. I was on my stomach and as he fucked me from behind, I half-purred, half-growled, “I want you to fuck my ass.”
This is something that has always been a challenge for us. It has something to do with how thick Papa Bear’s cock is, and how tight my ass is, but in the year and a half that we’ve been together, we have only achieved anal once, and I couldn’t take it for long.
This time, though, I guess I was just drunk enough, just horny enough, and just lubed enough.
He slid the head of his cock into me. I gasped, and told him to wait. He held still and I tried to relax. He slid in a little more. I whimpered and took a deep breath, somewhere in the space between pain and ecstasy. We continued like that for several minutes, me breathing and trying to relax, him waiting and then advancing. And then he was inside me.
I moaned loudly. “Fuck me,” I begged, and he did. I screamed. I screamed and moaned and swore, and told him how fucking good it felt. I begged for more–harder, faster. He pounded me while I came and came, and then he filled me with cum.
“Holy fucking shit.”
It was definitely worth the wait, but we both agreed that another year and a half is not allowed to pass before we do that again.
I’ve been MIA for awhile, for no particular reason. Just taking some time to let things sink in, I guess. Everything is just in this weird in between space, and I feel kind of un-tethered.
Papa Bear is still living in the family home with The Wifey. At first they had hoped that they’d be able to make a platonic domestic partnership work, but Papa Bear realized pretty quickly that he needs to move out. He says the house doesn’t feel like his home, anymore.
I’m still not allowed over when The Wifey is home, which causes no small amount of stress for us. Sometimes she won’t let him know her schedule ahead of times, so we can’t make plans. The last time he asked her what her plans were, she shouted at him and said he needed to “stop pressuring her”. She then went on to say that this is all his fault, he has no integrity, he ruined their family, etc, etc.
She has told Papa Bear and their kids, that she doesn’t blame me for their separation, or believe it is my fault. It’s a nice thing to say, but Papa Bear says that if its true that she doesn’t blame me, she absolutely does blame him.
So now he is planning on moving out as soon as possible. It is just too stressful and painful for him to continue living there.
They have told their children that they’ve split up. His daughter understands (because she still lives at home, and has been witness to all of the screaming and crying), but apparently their son took it pretty hard.
We are both dealing with the question of when we would start dating other people again, and how we would handle it if we did. We’ve gone back and forth. Papa Bear was considering getting to know a girl he met at a poly group, and they have been chatting, but he feels like he won’t be ready to move forward with anything until he is moved out and has spent some time getting used to living on his own. And until he and I have had a chance for things to stabilize for our relationship. Once the dust settles, we want to make sure we’re still good.
I had a quite long flirtation with one of my supervisors, which started as harmless flirting many, many months ago, transitioned into heavy sexting, and culminated in us making plans to spend the night together one Friday after work.
He bailed at the last minute. Apparently him being my supervisor, and us having a secret affair (in terms of work, he’s unattached), and me being married–it is a line he just cannot cross. I respect that, but I’m not going to say I didn’t walk away wondering if I was shameful and dirty and not good enough for him.
We said we’d keep being friends and spend time together in PG scenarios, but he’s been sick and now I’m sick so I haven’t actually seen him since. We’ll see how it goes. Part of me wants things to just go back to normal, and part of me hopes that eventually we’ll get drunk and do it anyway.
As for actual dating, I know I’m not ready for any more relationships, and I honestly may not be until my kids are pretty much grown. Two partners is plenty.
Papa Bear and I are taking a little getaway next week, which is desperately needed. We are going to the mountains and staying in a condo on a ski hill. I honestly do not care if we don’t do anything but cuddle, fuck and drink. I wouldn’t even say I’m so much excited, as I am relieved. I feel like we have not been able to just BREATHE in so long. It cannot come soon enough.