Go Forth Unafraid

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“And where might we find these ‘likeminded’ couples?” I questioned my husband, even though he’d dropped the subject. Freshly-minted emptynesters, we were struggling with all of this alone time. Communication was never our best skill.

Neither was spontaneous sex.

We were the 1% of teen couples that got pregnant in high school and made it last this long. But now we were without the 2 people that defined our every breath for 20 years. Cisco was following his brother’s path to boarding school for his senior year before deciding on a four year school. We were expecting him to be bumming around our house for another 9 months and now he’s gone. Antonio is studying and playing in Argentina this year, so he’s beyond gone. Cisco’s decision caught us off guard.

Don’t get me wrong. We were far from helicopter parents. Our parents forced us take on the responsibilities of parenting, though school was our job for the first five years. We just didn’t know how to enjoy a relationship without little eyes on us. What we ate, what we wore, how we traveled, everything driven through their needs.

Example: we never made noise during sex. Ever. “You’ll wake the boys,” I’d say when they were little. “You’ll traumatize the boys,” he’d say when they got older. So we were silent. It was all we knew.

Now it was like we were dating. The first 3 months were a whirlwind of sex in the morning and dancing at night. No more cereal or soda in the pantry. Laundry every other week. Zero dirty dishes. The next 3 months we did nothing but focus on the boys. “Let’s Skype Tony,” I’d say. “We better get some food in the house for Cisco at Christmas,” he’d say. We were constantly planning for the three days they’d be home.

Now we’ve settled into blah. First we’d binge watch shows together. Then we’d binge watch shows next to each other. I knew we needed to change directions when I caught him binge watching the same History Channel shows as my father. “One more episode,” he’d say before bed. “Your pops is only two ahead of me.”

But it didn’t hit me until we both got home from work and had our comfy sweat pant couch moment before 6PM. He only worked a 1/2 day at the hospital and it was down time in my office, so I wasn’t stressed. We weren’t tired. We were tired!

“We should be naked or dressed ataşehir escort bayan up,” I noted as I watched him reading his Twitter feed. I was no better as I repinned one of his mother’s recipes on Pinterest.

“That’s quite the range, my love,” he acknowledged. “Let’s ask the internet.”

Our phones danced in our hands while we crowd sourced our way out of this rut.

Yoga.

Cooking class.

Hiking.

Scrapbooking.

Skydiving.

An hour later we came up for air. Nothing.

“Other than work, we either make kids or raise kids,” I sighed.

“Well, I got a job, ain’t changing no more diapers and I’m kinda bored of fucking you,” he smirked as he braced himself for a punch to the arm.

“Your dick hasn’t fucked my brains out yet, so I’m guessing I can stop wishing for that one, huh?” I responded, still punching his arm.

He just laughed as he went to the kitchen to get us some water.

“We need some friends like us to hang out with,” I shouted. “Give us reason to go out.”

He returned with our water and put his arm around me. “No problem. I’m sure there’s other 30-something emptynesters ready to hang out to watch,” he paused to check my phone. “Al Jazeera.”

“So what are people our age doing in this city?” I pushed back.

“What we did in high school: fucking until they decide to have kids,” he imagined out loud.

“So let’s go fuck with them,” I pleaded, though I wasn’t quite sure what I meant.

“An open relationship?” he responded with curiosity. “Fucking people other than us?” His body language was unreadable at this moment. I couldn’t tell if he was offended or totally game. He always had a better poker face than me.

“I just don’t want to be playing shuffleboard on cruises for the next 50 years, baby,” I sputtered as I sunk into the couch.

“You are bugging right now,” he insisted as he placed his warm hand on my knee. “Likeminded couples are waiting for us to chat right now!” he joked before the doorbell rang with our Chinese food.

After dinner we went for a walk and texted the boys. Soon we were back in bed checking the DVR for new recordings.

“And where might we find these ‘likeminded couples’?” I opened. He rolled his eyes and pulled his laptop from escort kadıköy our desk. I couldn’t tell if his apprehension was based on not wanting to do it or not wanting to see me go down a path I wasn’t ready for.

“There’s Craigslist . . . ,” he offered as he scrolled down his search for ‘likeminded couples’.

“Ewww!” I protested. “That how we got the boys’ bikes. What else?”

For an hour he humored me while we laughed at the idea of us swinging and the scary people out there looking for ‘likeminded couples’. These folks might have had the right idea, but there was no way I’d date them single, much less married. One couple wanted to meet the the Barney & Betty to their Fred & Wilma – which they were dressed exactly like.

Then we landed on a site that rated other sites that connected singles and couples. By now my husband had lost interest and was checking out his Fantasy Football Team on his phone. But I fell down the rabbit hole.

“Okay, we’re signed up,” I announced 10 minutes later. He was still making some last minute trades, so I started shopping without him. “You like tall women, right?”

“Yeah. What? What are we signed up for?” he jumped. “Whoa! She’s hot,” he nodded, finally impressed with my internet shopping skills.

“She likes them brown, sugar,” I joked. “Save!” I announced as though I’d just made a purchase. “Her husband looks okay, but I’ll take one for the team,” I shrugged.

Now, he couldn’t tell if I was serious. And neither could I. Certainly it was fascinating seeing people that probably were in the same boat we were in. But I also wondered if every man’s dick felt like my husband’s. I know they didn’t but I didn’t personally know. And I wouldn’t know how I’d react to seeing another woman enjoying my husband’s dick too much. That might be a bit much.

“So who is in your shopping cart, you freak,” he asked with a curiosity I hadn’t seen in years.

Without blinking I opened the shopping cart to the five couples I’d already saved. There was a range from preppy to punk, urban to country. I’ve had one song in my playlist for 20 years. Genre was not about to filter my exploration. “I had a few criteria – funny and witty write-up, thought given to their photo, not too porny and proximity to our house,” I explained.

“Looking bostancı escort for a quick delivery,” he sheepishly joked.

“Opposite, hon,” I continued. “Don’t need any one recognizing us. A discreet hotel between our lives might be enough to entertain us between dinner and dancing.”

“So you are seriously going to let this . . ,” he began as he scanned my cart, “Ann ride my dick while you let . . . Craig fuck you from behind?” he asked with a devilish look on his face. His warm hand was on my knee again.

“Actually,” I started as I took my glasses off and placed my hand on his bulging boxers, “I was thinking Ann and I would start slowly by sucking our own husband’s dick in the same room. Then you and Craig could work your tongue on our damp pussies. The first date doesn’t have to go all the way.” I put his laptop on the nightstand and headed for second base.

“If we enjoyed their company after the first date, we might try fucking on separate beds – still keeping to ourselves,” I said as I pulled my husband’s boxers down. “But you might not be able to clear Ann getting fucked from your daily thoughts,” I punctuated as I leaned into his mouth. “And I might have visions of pushing Craig down like this,” I followed as I pushed my husband back onto our bed, “so I can taste Ann’s cock before I let him fuck me from behind.”

By now my tongue was licking my husband’s dick and he was in heaven. “Ann, you are amazing!” he grunted. He pulled my top over my head and cupped my breast like it was our first time. I crawled up next to him on all fours while I rubbed his dick.

“Craig, please fuck me from behind like you fuck Ann,” I responded. My husband quickly got behind me, threw his tongue between my legs to get me wet and then proceeded to fuck Ann while I screamed Craig’s name. His balls were slapping my ass. The bed was shaking the walls.

Craig and Ann were animals.

And then he said, “I’d love to watch you suck Craig’s dick while I’m fucking you!” I wasn’t sure if I was Ann, but my pussy didn’t care. She erupted at the thought and then he came inside me. We were panting like we’d finished a 5k for charity.

Then a beep came from his laptop. He mustered enough strength to open it and found two responses.

“Responses to what?” I said as I laid kicking my legs up and down.

“To your messages from your shopping cart, fat fingers,” he laughed.

“Oh shit,” I jumped. My trepidation was enough to convince my husband that I was still full of shit. That was until I said, “Was it Stephanie & Isaac?”

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