The Guy Who Needed First Aid During Sex
Sometimes I have sex for the sake of having sex.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some borderline sex addict that needs a man to fuck me to affirm my attractiveness, or metaphorically fill some void. My self-esteem is very much intact. Its PH level is largely neutral and not prone to extreme changes. While I’ll admit that my encounter with R knocked me around a little, I didn’t seek out empty rebound sex to make me feel better. Sex for the sake of having sex is fine. Sex to make you feel better is not so fine.
In general, I view sex in a healthy, balanced way which is essential as a shared wife. For all the lamenting I’ve done here about R, in most cases I don’t think twice about the men I’ve fucked. A special few do linger in my memory, but most are just statistic now. I’d be hard pressed to remember any of them if I bumped into them in the street.
Out of the pool of less than memorable men, many actually provided good sex. The rest were fair to average fucks. So far I don’t recall anyone who was horribly bad at sex. I suppose if a man is on The Site looking for sexual exploration then the odds are he isn’t awful at fucking. Fortunately, I’ve only experienced mediocre sex at worst, and just the once, somewhat bizarre sex.
My husband and I were one of the last few guests remaining at a swingers party. It was a largely social evening for us, catching up with good friends in the scene. A few single guys were invited to the party and although they were reasonably attractive, I didn’t feel compelled to jump them. I don’t recall feeling especially horny but I knew I wanted to fuck.
As the party was winding down, I chatted to one of the single guys. He was ruggedly good looking and the perfect candidate for a random, last minute encounter. I asked him if he wanted to join us in a bedroom. He happily agreed, following me towards an unoccupied bed.
The problem however with last-minute sex sessions with strangers is that there is no build up. Sometimes I don’t need to connect with a guy to have sex with him but sometimes I need time to process the decision. If the portion of my brain that controls sexual arousal doesn’t catch up with the portion that makes these impulsive decisions, we have a willing hole that is underprepared.
Thankfully there are always tubes of lube lying around at parties. I applied liberally and let Random Guy get ready to penetrate. My husband seemed more interested in watching that night but I suspect he was going through the motions a little too. He was happy that we were having some action but we both could have just as happily gone home.
I was finally getting into the rhythm of sex and enjoying the standard thrusting of Random Guy. We barely kissed or engaged in foreplay but since I enjoy penetration a lot, I wasn’t complaining. I just focus on the sweet sensation of hard cock inside me and it’s usually enough to get me over the edge.
Unfortunately I didn’t even get near the summit before Random Guy suddenly let out a scream. I initially thought he got to the top before me but when he leapt up and off the bed, clutching his knee, I realised something very unsexy had happened. Random Guy’s knee had become dislocated.
Apparently Random Guy had a skateboarding accident in his youth which meant his knee would go every now and then. He would usually be able to gently ease it back in place but it wasn’t happening tonight. He tried a number of positions and stretches but like a drunk girl at a party, his knee wasn’t interested in going home.
Reaching a point of desperation, Random Guy eventually got me to do something I never thought I’d do while naked: manipulate a leg joint to pop a dislocated knee in place. Interesting but sadly not sexy. This may have been OK if I had a nurse’s costume on but administering first aid in the nude doesn’t ever need to be experienced again. Ever.
I never actually found out what happened to Random Guy in the end. My husband and I were all the more keen to go home so once we were assured that he was fine to be left to his own devices, we left. Sadly the whole debacle was a turn off for the both of us. We went straight to bed, thanking our lucky stars to have healthy joints.