The Picky Stag
The other night I went on a second date with a delicious new playfriend. After some small talk and a few drinks, we got onto the subject of Hotwifing. My playfriend asked if my husband was the driving force in our decision to involve other people in our sex life. I answered truthfully that while I didn’t really need to be convinced to experiment, he was the one who got the ball rolling all those years ago when we first started swinging.
Even with our Hotwifing adventures today, I largely let my husband decide when to play. This isn’t a sign of submissiveness on my part, nor one of my husband’s control over my sexuality. Like other aspects of my life, I prefer working with boundaries. Aside from that, I simply enjoy our adventures if I know my husband is fully endorsing it. If my Stag ain’t in the mood, then I don’t feel good about being a slut wife either.
Now, letting my husband decide when to play is fine but letting him have a say in who I play with does pose some issues. He is absolutely entitled to approve the men whose dicks may end up inside his wife, but he’s set the benchmark ridiculously high. My pool of eligible Bulls is small enough after taking into account my own somewhat strict set of criteria but my picky Stag reduces it to an ant’s puddle.
My Stag’s pickiness doesn’t really hinder us for one-off encounters but if he didn’t impress my husband (nevermind me…), there’s pretty much no chance of him playing with us again. Fortunately, my husband and I are often on the same page so I haven’t as yet been devastated by a Bull not passing muster. However, on the same token, I’ve been careful not to get too attached to a guy until my husband gives me the green light to have him again.
The aforementioned playfriend actually only just passed. He got the big dick tick of approval without a problem but apparently he lay all over me too much. My husband couldn’t get a clear view of the action which displeased him greatly. I was also left with some red splotches from the skin-on-skin friction which I personally never noticed! Thankfully he wasn’t entirely unimpressed since he let me see him again. On my own. But that’s another story 😉
Other men have failed to impress for various reasons. My husband doesn’t like wishy-washy people who lack personality in general so single guys who can’t engage in interesting conversation with him aren’t invited back for Round Two. Tattoos also don’t rate highly with my Stag, so as much I may get hot and bothered by gym-honed bodies with full sleeves of ink, I move on to the next profile on The Site in search of a more appropriate specimen.
Finding the right Bull is kinda similar to finding the perfect new house. My husband and I both have mutual needs and wants, but our individual wish lists do hamper the process. However, as any new home owner would know, it’s worth putting in the time and effort to find the right place. There’s nothing wrong with having a standard and adhering to it and for most part, I get where my husband’s coming from. When we’re both happy with my choice of Bull, the play session is very hot.
Let’s hope my picky Stag doesn’t find other faults with my new playfriend. I’d really love to fuck him again.