The Fears of a Unicorn
The next few weeks that followed our island encounter were a maelstrom of mixed emotions. Whilst Mr H went into full research mode I, on the other hand, found the encounter had stirred some feelings I’d suppressed for years.
Reflections of conversations I had initiated in our fledgling relationship forced me to recall vivid memories of my experiences with women during my university days. I realised that the spontaneous encounter, fuelled by sun and cocktails, had been the catalyst for exploring this new adventure in our relationship together.
On a very basic level, the algorithm seemed simple enough: (Me) + (Mr H) + (unicorn) = 3sum and super hot sexy fun times. Not so easy though when you have a husband who won’t share a slice of pizza, never mind a woman. All sorts of worries ran through my mind. Would our relationship cope with a third? What if Mr H found her more attractive than me? What if she had bigger and better breasts or other body parts than me! Would Mr H get jealous?
The really bizarre concept to wrap my head around was the knowledge that he had no desire whatsoever to watch me with a woman. Even now people are surprised when they learn this. I had to make sure that whatever we did would not make him feel excluded in any way.
Our search for a unicorn gathered pace and Mr H scoured the depths of sites like Fab Swingers. It wasn’t easy wading through messages and fake profiles. However, after a few weeks a single lady got in touch, and we made plans to meet for a social date.
Actually meeting a person face to face, and bringing our fantasy to life, predictably threw us into another spiral of nerves and excitement. I’ve often thought some fantasies are better left that way and trying to make them a reality would possibly result in either disappointment or judgement. However, since this had already kind of happened by accident it made sense to see if the reality could be something amazing we could explore together.
With mounting trepidation, fear and excitement the evening of our social arrived and Mr H drove us to the pub where we would meet this single lady. It was tucked away between our two locations - I recall wondering if someone we knew would spot us and if we’d have to come up with an elaborate lie as to why we were meeting a lady on her own in a pub on a school night.
Looking back that seems so silly now – why would we be berated for… socialising? Thoughts crashed through my mind and my heart raced as we walked to the entrance of the bar. What if she was a psychopath? A fake single guy? Or worse still, what if she was stunningly gorgeous and Mr H immediately fell in love/lust with her? Completely rational thoughts, right?
We had arrived a bit early – God knows how as I’m always running to Gandalf time, much to Mr H’s chagrin. We seated ourselves in a little nook by a window and Mr H ordered a bottle of Prosecco (again – yes this was a school night but Dutch courage and all that). We chatted nervously through the first glass of bubbles while we waited. Yet again we reassured each other that we would do this together and if, at any point, one of us wanted to seek an exit strategy - we would. Mr H was driving and so had the unenviable task of navigating the whole thing sober. I, however, sought reassurance from the release of inhibitions provided by the first couple of drinks.
Our date arrived late in a flurry of coats and scarves, chattering and muttering hasty apologies for her tardiness. It struck me that she was also really nervous, and I felt reassured she must be a normal person. Now you may be wondering what my first impressions were of this mystical unicorn sitting opposite us in a little country pub.
Well… genuinely I think my first thought was could I see the three of us having sex at some point in the future! Sometimes my imagination fills my head with wildly inappropriate thoughts at the strangest times and I couldn’t help but focus on the memory of those carnal desires that had propelled this fantasy into a reality. And now my fantasy was potentially sitting opposite me and my husband.
The evening flew by and we settled easily into conversation about what had led us all to this point. She had a lot of experience already playing with couples and groups and we marvelled at her stories of previous play encounters. Our date was a curvy lady and a little shorter than me. I found my gaze wandering to her full breasts and imagining how I would feel if I saw my husband caressing them – I needed to imagine myself in a future play situation and I wondered if he was doing the same.
The conversation flowed seamlessly into increasingly flirtatious talk. Having already set ourselves boundaries that this date would be strictly social, I think we were feeling brave and safe in the knowledge we could explore these emotions without the fear of not knowing how to navigate the next step.
As the night drew to a close and we agreed to meet a second time, my heart pounded, and I wondered what it would be like to kiss her and share the experience with my husband.
Would our next meeting be a naughty one?
