affection, crazy, dating, relations, feelings, kinky, life, love, sugar, Victor

Swinger’s Love

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Victor was wonderful. Easy, positive, and inspiring. And hot, probably way too hot. He kept performing surgical procedures and operations in a local hospital. Jim kept grumping that he should be fired for being irresponsible, unethical, and lazy. I kept shrugging my shoulders thanking God for being a girl, no whose-dick-is-bigger games, no rat-racing for status and power.

All I wanted was chocolate for lunch and potted roses, carefully wrapped and sent anonymously.

Victor was open-minded. He loved women and horses. He was positive and caring. He was into pantiless nights in swinger clubs, partner swapping, and marathon running. From threesome and foursome to orgies, from guys to girls, from sub to dom, he switched sex roles and positions briefly and gracefully leaving each partner with the “WOW” impression. He was sincere, kind, and honest, everyone loved him, I was not the exception.

You are on my mind, Vixen all the time, – he was looking deeply into my eyes. I returned his gaze unable to hide a smile, he made me happy every time we had lunch together, – I keep thinking about you making love to two other guys while I am watching. The thought of it makes me hard. I would love to watch you swamped.

 – We are just friends, Victor, – I took a deep breath, I was curious.

It does not matter. I can find perfect guys for you, just let me know your preferences,  – His open-mindedness was amazing.

 – What about jealousy?

 – What about it?

 – Would you not feel jealous watching the woman you love being shared?

– Not at all, Vixen. You know I love you, right? – I quietly nodded. I loved talking to him, it was always fun and crazy. – I wanna share my love with others, – I was still quiet, I had nothing to say to this, – Plus, it is hot.

Victor was right about jealousy, I loved Greg, I never felt jealous, sharing him with others, I was happy when he was happy. I never claimed him as my possession to pay the bills or to mow my yard. I could love more than one person. Greg never got that, being married and changing mistresses, he demanded entire submission and monogamous obedience. I played by the rules solely because being a sub was fun, I loved fun, it made me feel good.

You know my dear, – I tried to put as much love as I could into “my dear”, – Greg would never appreciate this.

 – You do not have to tell him,  – Victor was a people’s magnet. Victor loved people; he shared them, he shared himself emotionally and sexually. Some were happy, most got hurt and revengeful – both guys and girls, they desperately tried to chain his heart, his mind, and his penis; when it did not work, they went to court. He never disputed a single case; he was always on time with child support, paid alimony, and covered moral damage. He was a nice guy, with a small ego and a big penis.

It was almost midnight when I received a call. – Can you give me a ride home, hon?  – his voice was dull, flat, and low.

Of course, my dear. Where are you?

 – Emergency, please pick me up, – each word was produced with extreme tension.

– Are you ok? – he hung up, I put the coat over my PJs and grabbed the car keys. It took me less than 5 minutes to get to the hospital. I saw him through the glass entrance door, tall, tired, pale, and emaciated with white gauze bandage around the head. I ran up to him with a hug. Dark circles under the eyes, bluish veins on both arms, he did not look good. – What happened?

 – Brain concussion, I will be fine, Vixen.

 – Why?

My girlfriend got mad and hit me with an iron.

 – Why?

– She found out about swinging.

 – Actually, it is battery, and she should be held accountable.

 – I do not need police in my personal life, honey. I love her, and she is gone.

He broke into tears as I was driving home. I had no idea what to say, how to calm him down. He spent that weekend in my place, cleaning the kitchen tiles and cooking uneatable breakfasts.

He left early on Monday morning. The smell of fried plantains and dried blood was still there, I aired the rooms prior going to work.

Two weeks after he asked me for lunch. He was back to normal, hot, horny, and loveable.  – I am invited to a private sex party, very upscale, wanna come?

 – How is your head?

 – You are so sweet, my love. You are the woman I need. Wanna go? We will find a perfect match for you, guys or girls, anything you like. It is a decent place, you will love it.

 – Where is your girlfriend?

 – She packed up and left that night.

 – Are you still in pain?

 – Of course, Vixen, my heart is broken.

 – How is your head?

 – Better than my heart.        

 He was awesome, I was laughing. We never made it to that party; he on call, and I had a headache. I loved him, he loved the whole world, he was unique, crazy, and generous. I was happy guys like him exist on Earth.