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Cabin fever when you kiss me

Updated: Jul 30, 2023

NSFW (mild)

We’ve just arrived and started to settle in for our annual camping (read: glamping) trip. I meander around the cabin’s tiny, master bedroom, adjusting this, rearranging that. PM's lying across the freshly made-up bed, staring up at the ceiling. I lie down beside him and scoot into his side as his arm slides under my head and shifts it onto his shoulder. We lie there in companionable silence, listening to the sounds coming from adjacent campsites through our open window.

We can hear Two rummaging around inside our cabin’s bunk room located opposite our room, on the other side of the small cabin's common space. Unsurprisingly, the presence of our child 30 ft and two interior walls away doesn't stop PM from shifting my head to the pillow and shifting his arm and shoulder so that he can reach across my torso and slide his hand down into my pants.

The soft, gray leggings I'm wearing were chosen strictly for comfort. There is no hidden agenda of seduction here. It's the first day of my period, and PM knows this all too well. When I told him a few days ago that it was coming and that I would almost certainly be bleeding for part of our week-long vacation, if not for most, I saw a look of resignation on his face as he acknowledged my heads-up with an "Okay."

Neither of us are period-sex-averse, and in fact, we've found that I can have some incredible orgasms when I'm on the rag. But it does necessitate we plan a little in advance, especially when we’re not at home. The old-fashioned towel method we employed years ago has been supplanted with advances in period management like the Nixit disk that have allowed for mess-free period sexual activity. (Perhaps I'll review the Nixit for you all at some point?) Before we discovered the Nixit disk, the Diva cup had already made finger-fucking and oral sex possible while I’m bleeding. Considering 50% of the world’s population menstruates, it’s about bloody time we’ve come up with better options than soggy pads or shoving material made out of god-knows-what up into our hoohahs. But I digress.

I’m not sure how this week will go and what steamy things we’ll get up to, but right now, with PM’s fingers making delicious little circles, I’m feeling a need to get down to something.

With the arrival of Aunt Flo that morning, I was definitely feeling a little more grumpy, but two ibuprofen and a half of an edible later, the moderate discomfort I was experiencing has all but disappeared. And in an effort to maximize comfort, I had ditched my panties almost as soon as I finished unpacking our bags upon our arrival to the small but cozy cabin.

And so I find that although I had no intention of seducing my husband in the first hour of our arrival to what will be our home-away-from-home for the next 7 days and nights, the ease of access to my sex that PM’s just discovered — the gentle flexing of his fingers encumbered only by a very stretchy elastic waist and loose-fitting leggings — seems to be sending him a different message entirely.

Or it could be the way my hips flex upwards against his fingers. Or the way I'm panting as I turn my head to look at him. He's still on his back and his eyes are closed, but as he feels me turn, his eyes open and his head shifts to meet my heavy-lidded stare. His expression remains serious, his gaze unflinching, as his fingers' explorative strokes turn into rhythmic circles. I can't help it, but my eyes close and I breathe out a throaty groan on the exhale.

When I open my eyes again, his expressionless mouth has turned up at one corner. “Our daughter is in the next room,” I scold, even as my hand slides up my shirt to pluck at my nipple, my breasts also free and loose under my top. It’s camping, so minimal clothing is the norm. He hums in appreciation of my scantily clad form. He pauses his ministrations for a moment as he calls out to Two and suggests she go and check on what her siblings are up to outside. She cheerfully agrees, and a second later we hear the sliding door open and then close.

PM pauses one more beat until we hear our children chatting happily with one another outside the cabin. We won’t have long before they’re up to shenanigans that will require our attention. We’re also well aware that any real privacy in this moment is an illusion, as any or all of our offspring could come crashing back into the little house in a matter of minutes. But as parents of an active brood, we know beggars can’t be choosers.

PM’s fingers return to circling my clit in earnest, and my eyes flutter closed. It feels so very good, and I can’t help but think that an orgasm is exactly what this woman needs. I feel the tension in my belly begin to grow as PM continues.

I reach out blindly towards him, and my hand fumbles to his crotch, only to find his button and fly undone and his other hand already moving rhythmically inside his boxer briefs. It’s my turn to give a pleased hum as my fingers join his to move over warm, thickening flesh. He gives a quiet grunt as I trace my fingertips over his length.

Playing with his cock distracts me too much though. I continue my movements for a moment longer before I decide that if there’s going to be any chance of my getting the happy ending that I’m craving, I had better stop fiddling with PM’s dick and focus on my own pleasure. I feel my clit humming with every stroke of his magic fingers and the tightness in my groin growing. I’m getting close.

Then the inevitable happens. The kids start fighting on the patio outside our window. I try to block out the shouting, to focus on the finish line. PM’s fingers are still circling as he quietly tells me that he needs to check on the kids.

When he pulls his hand out of my pants, I let out an involuntary whine. He chuckles.

“We’ll continue this later,” he tells me. “Maybe when I come back in, I’m a sexy male friend who’s visiting.” Hmmm. I raise my eyebrows in surprise and flash him a pleased smile.

We’ve talked about doing this before — role-playing for one another in this way — and have agreed it could be hot, but we haven’t yet gone through with it. I know that he’ll be game for a try whenever I give him the go-ahead. So what are we waiting for?

We’ve discussed at length the idea of partner-swapping (see most of my posts from the summer of 2022), and it is definitely a top fantasy of mine. Yet for some reason I’ve been hesitant to actually role-play this out with PM. I’m not exactly sure what I’m afraid of. We’re not talking about sex with an actual other person. Just an approximation of it. But, for some inexplicable reason, I’m reticent.

When I turn over the idea of this type of erotic RP in my mind and examine it more closely, I think part of me might be unsure about letting PM see that much of my fantasy. It’s one thing to let him whisper things in my ear while we’re in bed together. Up until now, he’s pretty much stuck to speaking in the third person about my having sexy times with another man. He’ll say things like, “I’m sure you were being watched by several men at the party. They can’t help but think about what it would be like to be with you, all the things they’d like to do to you…”. *fans self*

It drives me mad when PM’s sexy voice rumbles against my skin as he kisses me and touches me and tells me in detail what these other men are surely fantasizing about me. How they’d love to peel the straps of my sundress down my shoulders and reveal my beautiful breasts. How they’ve been imagining stroking them, sucking on them. How they have been discreetly watching my sweet ass every time I bend over, and how they’re aching to slide their big hands around my slim waist, then run them down and grab a handful of my luscious bottom. How if they ever get a chance to put their hands on my gorgeous body, they won’t be able to control themselves.

They’ll want more, he tells me. They’ll need more. They’ll need to touch every inch of my smooth skin. They’ll just have to taste me. Everywhere. And once they see how aroused and excited I am to be kissed and touched and squeezed — and how wet I get over it — they’ll be hooked.

Yep. PM knows how to bring the heat. (And that’s a tame version.) Just remembering some of his sexy commentary for the sake of writing this essay has me squirming a bit as I sit here in front of a fire in my Adirondack chair. *bites lip*

He doesn’t typically go any further in this erotic fiction where he narrates me and another man, and he always describes the other man in the third person. By the time we get to this point, we’ve either dropped the sexy verbiage because we’re too busy getting down to fucking one another or because I’ve shushed him with a gentle, “Okay, babe. No more talking.” It’s his cue that he’s successfully fueled my internal erotic commentary.

At the point when I usually cut him off, I’m turned on as fuck, and if he continues his sexy monologue too far, he runs the risk of saying the wrong thing or going in the wrong direction (away from the erotic vision I’ve cooked up mentally alongside his narrative). Rather than further amping me up, he may just kill the vibe I have going all together.

PM does well. Very well. But he doesn’t know all the ins and outs of my erotic side, and he and I are fundamentally very different in our personal erotic imaginings. At least, that seems to be the case, considering that he doesn’t like to give too much away. He can only understand me and my inner sex maniac to a certain extent.

I have a host of turn-ons and secret desires that I’ve never shared with PM, safely tucked away in my erotic imagination for my own personal use. Although PM has loved and appreciated that I’ve let him in on some of my varied personal fantasies, there are the ones that I keep all to myself. He doesn’t own my erotic side, after all.

Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t need to know every errant, dirty thought I have. They’re wholly mine, even if I decide to let him have a peek at one of my mental fantasy reels now and again. Even then, they’re edited…sometimes heavily. He just doesn’t need those images rolling around in his brain. And he’s said as much, because I do have the tendency to overshare. *cringes* The man’s a confident alpha, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be privy to all the wicked things I’ve thought about doing to that sexy friend of ours. *shrugs*

Perhaps it’s for this very reason we tend to stick to erotic narratives involving me and another man in the third person. We haven’t attempted to role-play where PM plays the part of the sexy male friend with whom I can have some sexy fun.

I’ve certainly entertained lengthy fantasies about partner-swapping in my own imagination, and PM and I talk about what it might be like. What we’d want or not want. Whether we would want a hard swap or a only soft one with another couple. (In swinger terminology, a hard swap allows for P in the V, while a soft swap does not). Yet inviting my spouse to play the other man I fuck in my fantasy-come-to-life feels like venturing into different erotic territory somehow.

I make myself vulnerable in a new way if I let him see me get keyed up over somebody else, even if it is just pretend. What more, I wonder whether this type of experience could change how PM imagines what it might be like to share me. I don’t know what feelings this might invoke.

PM role-playing my erotic wish has a whole lot of smokin’ hot potential, sure. But it also might get awkward. Really, fucking awkward. Afterwards, but possibly during, too.

I know it may come as a surprise when I say that PM is not the smoothest talker. And don’t get me wrong. The man is sexy as hell and has moves that turn me to jelly. But sexy talk isn’t his strong suit, although I applaud the man for putting in so much effort over the last two years to get better at it for me. Sometimes it’s a hit, sometimes a miss, however, all the practice has definitely paid off. He’s on his erotic narrative game more often than not these days.

But playing the role of a new sexual partner with me might be a bit of a stretch for his skills. Or who knows? He might surprise me. Maybe it will be nuclear hot. *fingers crossed*

I know I’m being unreasonably hesitant. I suppose part of the issue is that I’m worried he’ll screw it up royally, and it will spoil my fantasy. It’s the two-sides of role-playing a personal fantasy like this. While the unscripted nature of this kind of play makes it exciting — I’m not entirely sure how he’ll act in this role, which adds to the illusion that this is someone I don’t know intimately — it is precisely this uncertainty that could make it go horribly wrong. I know how I want my fantasy to play out, but I don’t want to have to spell it out for him. I want him to know what I want. *cringes and shrugs*

I’m also afraid that I will turn out to be the awkward one. Maybe I won’t be able to get into it. Or maybe I’m nervous that he’ll see just how much I want this type of experience. (Not that he doesn’t already know…)

Then I had this errant thought: What if he decides to channel one of my crushes for his role-playing? Will it get weird between us?

Because in the end, I think it’s just that. I’m afraid of letting this type of play materialize into reality because I’m worried one (or both) of us will get embarrassed or feel unsettled. And if that happens, will it have any bearing on future erotic play between us? Or might it affect how we feel about whether we attempt to partner-swap in the future?

Turns out my orgasm would evade me for the entire day. Even when we had over a half hour to ourselves while the kids went fishing, and PM ate me out like it was his last meal, nothing. Nada. Zip. I even tried knocking a quick one out myself when I had a spare bit of time where I could lock myself in our room with my Airvibe. Still came up short. Sometimes it just happens. And it fucking sucks.

There will be more on role-playing my swinger fantasy to come. I’m hoping sooner rather than later, and I’m sure you are, too.

Until next time, stay kinky 😉

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