<p>It was a month shy of our fourth anniversary when my husband sat me down and broke my heart. It’s not what you’re thinking, though (well, probably not).</p><p>Let me back up a little bit. For the first three years of our marriage, Alex and I were as close to blissfully happy as a couple could be. We both worked remotely, which gave us the freedom to roam the country in search of a perfect place to live (we ultimately chose the Pacific Northwest), so we spent the first 18 months of our marriage as digital nomads, spending a few weeks to a month all around the United States. We went on great adventures, met countless new friends, and stayed deeply connected with each other.</p><p>After 18 months as nomads, we bought a home outside Seattle and spent the next year and a half nesting. We <em>made</em> a home together, and it was incredible. We designed the perfect backyard for entertaining friends. We designed work spaces in the house so we could move around with our laptops as we saw fit. We built the perfect master suite and we used it extensively.</p><p>Our sex life was great through the first three years of our marriage. Alex is a skilled, attentive lover and we seemed to have an unquenchable thirst for each other. At least, we did right up until we didn’t. Or, until I didn’t.</p><p>It wasn’t long after our third anniversary that things changed. At first it was imperceptible, the way changes often are in a long term relationship. I won’t bore you with all the details, but I can say with confidence that our fourth year of marriage was not our happiest. We did a fair amount of fighting, to be honest. Looking back, I understand that the root of most of our conflicts was my lack of sexual satisfaction, but at the time it felt like we fought about everything under the sun (as couples often do when they’re trying to avoid fighting about the real issue).</p><p>Now, let’s get back at the moment where Alex broke my heart. It was a month before our fourth anniversary. It was a Saturday afternoon. We were sitting in the little nook that overlooked the backyard in the second floor office.</p><p>Alex took my hand, looked me in the eyes, and said, “I think you should sleep with other people.”</p><p>I was, as you might imagine, speechless. It was the first time either of us had mentioned the possibility of our marriage opening up. I’d never even imagined it, to be honest.</p><p>“What?” was all I could say.</p><p>“I know it sounds crazy, Erica, but I think you should sleep with other people,” he reiterated.</p><p>“Why?” I asked.</p><p>“Because nothing has changed in our sex life. I’m actually in better shape than I was when we got married. We’re both more successful. There’s a little less stress in our daily lives. I still feel a borderline insane kind of desire for you. The only thing that’s changed is that we’ve been together for nearly five years now,” he explained (we dated for a year before getting married).</p><p>“So, you’re saying it’s my fault that our sex life isn’t working anymore?” I asked. I was, as you might have surmised, feeling quite defensive.</p><p>“I’ve thought a lot about this. I have. I think about it every day. I think it’s possible that, for whatever reason, I’m not capable of meeting all your needs,” Alex said.</p><p>That was the part that broke my heart. I could see the pain on his face as he said it. Who wouldn’t feel that kind of pain?</p><p>His pain infected me. I felt it in my bones. You know what made it so much worse, though? I knew that he was right. On some level I’d known it for months. I was just doing everything in my power to avoid admitting it. I loved Alex. I was deeply in love with him, just as I’d been for years. He was good in bed, too. For some reason, it just wasn’t enough for me. But, what kind of wife admits that her truly wonderful husband can’t meet her needs?</p><p>“I know this sounds crazy,” Alex continued. “I feel crazy even saying it. But it’s not crazy. It isn’t. I’ve been, well, researching this subject. Men are always depicted as being unable to be satisfied with just one woman, but it’s just as often true the other way. It’s different, though. With men it’s about the sex. With women it’s sometimes about the passion, the lust, and all the stuff that comes with being with someone new.”</p><p>Again, he broke my heart. Not in the way someone usually gets their heart broken, obviously, but it brought about the same kind of pain. It’s just that my frustration, my anger, my disappointment, it was all directed inwards. It wasn’t as if Alex had cheated on me or decided that I couldn’t satisfy him. It was that he’d correctly surmised that he was incapable of meeting all my needs.</p><p>“Why not just divorce me?” I asked. Yes, I was being incredibly dramatic. “Why not find a woman who you could satisfy?”</p><p>Alex laughed and squeezed my hand. “Because I love you, Erica. Because I’ve been in love with you since our first date. That night, after our date, I told myself I’d just met my wife. I knew you were the one right away and I’m not walking away from you just because I can’t give you everything you need. It turns out I can, in a way. I just have to be okay with you getting a little part of what you need from someone else.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t it make me the worst wife in the world to do what you’re saying I should do?” I asked. That’s how I felt in the moment. I honestly couldn’t imagine sleeping with other people. It was most definitely not what a married woman was supposed to do.</p><p>“Not if you had my permission, which you’d have,” Alex said. “I’m telling you it would be okay. It’s possible I’m entirely wrong about this and there’s some other reason for the steep decline in your satisfaction, but if I’m right, this is how you can find your satisfaction again.”</p><p>“What about you?” I asked.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Alex replied.</p><p>“Would you be sleeping with other people too?” I asked.</p><p>“No,” he said. “I don’t want that. You’re the only woman I want to have sex with.”</p><p>I breathed a sigh of relief. Honestly, I have a jealous streak and I definitely wouldn’t have been able to handle the notion of Alex sleeping with other people.</p><p>“So I guess we’d need to work something out, because it wouldn’t really work for me to not have sex, you know?” Alex said.</p><p>“I still like having sex with you,” I replied. “I do. It’s just…”</p><p>“Not what it used to be,” he said.</p><p>I looked away. It was just so embarrassing to admit that I’d already grown bored of having sex with my husband, or at least a little bit bored of it.</p><p>“I’ll be honest, it hurts. It does,” he said. “It would hurt a lot more to lose you, though. The truth is, I still really like having sex with you. I still have great orgasms. It’s just that afterwards, when I see that you’re no longer reaching the heights you used to, it’s a little bit of a bummer. I know we could just be one of those couples that accepts that you can’t have a great sex life in a long term relationship, but I don’t want that. I want both of us to be satisfied, and I think we can have that.”</p><p>“If I sleep with other people,” I added.</p><p>Alex laughed. “It really does sound insane.”</p><p>It did sound insane. That didn’t stop us from doing it, though.</p><p>I wasn’t on board right away. In fact, I was dead set against the idea of sleeping with other people at first. It was just too abnormal for me. I’d literally never heard of anyone opening their marriage. It was the sort of thing I’d only ever seen in movies and TV shows, and even then it never actually worked out.</p><p>It was our fourth anniversary that convinced me that it was worth exploring the idea of sleeping with other people. I went all out for it. I booked the most expensive hotel room we’d ever stayed in. I bought the sexiest (and most expensive) lingerie I’d ever owned. I bought the first pair of four inch heels I’d ever owned. I went all out because I was determined to prove that if I worked hard enough I could restore whatever luster our sex life had lost.</p><p>My husband put in the work, too. He did the romantic stuff a man is supposed to do, only he did it better than most men do. There were flowers – lots of flowers – in the room when we checked in. He’d written a handful of love notes and he gave them to me over the course of the evening. It was a perfect night.</p><p>The sex was great…for my husband. For me, it was good. I know that I might sound awful for not being willing to settle for good sex, but it wasn’t just that. There was this little voice in the back of my head – that had been there for the better part of a year – that was telling me that the sex was going to continue to get worse. If it was just good after four years, what would be after eight? What about after ten, or twenty? At what point would it just be terrible?</p><p>I’m not asking for your sympathy, here. I’m just telling my story. The sex had gone from great to good and I literally couldn’t handle the notion of it getting worse. I couldn’t deal with the idea of a life without deeply satisfying sex. That’s why I’d been some version of cranky for nearly a year. That’s why my husband – bless his heart – suggested that I sleep with other people.</p><p>I’m not cruel, so I didn’t say anything on our anniversary. I waited a few weeks under the assumption that it was going to be at least a little bit painful for him to hear that I’d decided to take him up on his offer of having sex with other men to meet my needs.</p><p>It ended up being a fairly simple conversation. We were in that same room overlooking the backyard. I asked him if his offer of letting me sleep with other men was still on the table. He told me it was. I told him I was going to take him up on it. He told me he understood. He looked sad and I felt so guilty that I ended up going down on him. It probably didn’t make him feel better in the long run, but for the ten minutes he was in my mouth, Alex was in Heaven.</p><p>“So, did you do it yet?” Alex asked a few days later.</p><p>I looked up at him with utter confusion on my face. “Do what?”</p><p>“Start looking for a guy,” he clarified. “Or, I guess, sleep with someone.”</p><p>I smiled, patted the couch cushion, and said, “Sit with me.” Alex looked anxious, but he sat. “I made a Tinder profile. I explained my situation – that I’m a married woman with my husband’s permission to explore – and I put up a few pictures, though I didn’t put any face pics up because I don’t want any of our friends finding the profile.”</p><p>“That’s smart,” Alex said, though that was all he had to say.</p><p>“Do you want to see it?” I asked. “My profile, I mean.”</p><p>He looked at me and then at my phone, which rested on the coffee table. He stared for a few seconds and then said, “Yes. I think so, at least.”</p><p>I smiled, grabbed my phone, brought up Tinder, browsed to my profile, and handed it off to Alex.</p><p>I watched him peruse what I’d written – I tried to be as straightforward as possible, though of course that meant I got lots of useless messages – and then he found his way to the pictures I’d posted.</p><p>The first was a shot of me in a pair of tight jeans and a t-shirt that exposed just a little bit of my stomach. I thought it was a little bit sexy and a little bit cute and it brought a smile to his face. The second shot was from a recent beach vacation we’d taken. I was coming out of the water in a bikini and my hand was up as I playfully tried to stop Alex from taking a picture. The end result was a really good shot of my body where I happened to be wet from head to toe, which I figured would inspire the kind of desire that would help me find the sort of man I was looking for. The third shot was a picture from a friend’s wedding where I was in a cute sleeveless dress.</p><p>The fourth short was a selfie I’d taken the day I put up the profile. I’d put on a bra, panties, garter belt, stockings, and heels and stepped in front of the floor length mirror in our closet. I made sure my face was out of the picture and snapped a full body shot. I looked really good, which is why I considered not putting it on the profile. Ultimately, I went for it, figuring I could take it down if I got too many guys that were just sending dick pics and talking about jerking off to my picture.</p><p>“What do you think?” I asked as Alex stared at the last picture. He hadn’t said a word while browsing through my little gallery or reading my profile.</p><p>“You look really hot in this picture,” he said. “Really hot.”</p><p>“Kind of like how I looked on our anniversary?” I asked.</p><p>He looked at me and nodded and I saw his lips curl into a slight smile. I’ll bet he was thinking about how I emerged from the bathroom in lingerie on our anniversary and how I’d crawled into the bed and given him a night of intense pleasure.</p><p>“How do you feel?” I asked. “About me actually doing this? Talking about it is one thing, but now you’re holding the proof in your hands that I’m at least considering making it real.”</p><p>Alex quickly swiped through the pictures again before settling on the lingerie shot. “I feel a lot of things,” he said. “A little nervous and anxious. A little bit scared that this could end badly. A little…well…a little…”</p><p>“A little what?” I asked.</p><p>Alex kept his eyes on the picture and said, “A little, excited, I guess. Turned on, maybe? I don’t know. I’m not hard, but I feel, well, something that’s not exactly bad.”</p><p>“Well, like you said, I look really good in that picture. I’d like to think I look good in all those pictures,” I said.</p><p>“You do,” Alex assured me. “You really do. I think it’s more than that, though. I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not hard or anything, it’s just this feeling I kind of like that I can’t really explain.”</p><p>I hadn’t expected Alex to feel any level of excitement upon learning that I’d made a Tinder profile and I really wanted to try and probe further to see if it was real. “What are you thinking about when you look at those pictures?”</p><p>Alex looked at the picture and then back at me. “I’m thinking about other guys looking at them.”</p><p>While the answer caught me off guard, it wasn’t entirely surprising. I’d put the pictures up for other guys to look at them, after all. What was surprising was that Alex would get excited at the idea of other guys looking at a picture of me in lingerie.</p><p>“And that…that’s exciting?” I asked.</p><p>Alex looked a little embarrassed and he couldn’t bring himself to meet my gaze as he asked, “Is that weird?”</p><p>“No,” I answered. “Not to me, at least. If I’m being honest, I got really excited taking the picture. I thought about the same thing you did, that other guys – strangers, really – would see the picture and feel…well, that they’d feel the sorts of things men feel when they’re attracted to someone.”</p><p>“You mean that they’d see the picture and want to fuck you?” Alex asked.</p><p>Up to that point, Alex hadn’t used the word ‘fuck’ to describe what I was planning on doing with other men. He’d always said ‘sleep with’ instead. In the moment, I assumed it meant he was aroused, in large part because I could actually see it on his face and in the slight shift in his posture. It was a genuinely unexpected development, though in hindsight I’ve come to understand that the reason Alex was okay with suggesting I sleep with other people is that (on a subconscious level, at least) he actually liked the idea.</p><p>“Yes, that’s what I mean,” I answered. “I took the picture – I actually took a handful of pictures before using that one – and I imagined guys seeing it and wanting to fuck me. It excited me to think about that. Does it…does it excite you?”</p><p>I was still really tentative. We were in genuinely uncharted territory and despite having a few signs that Alex might actually be into the idea of me sleeping with other people, I was far from certain.</p><p>He didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Did you keep the other pictures you took? The ones in the lingerie?”</p><p>“I did, yeah. You can look at them if you want,” I said.</p><p>Alex brought up my photos and looked through the half a dozen shots I’d taken in the lingerie set. I’d posed in every angle I could imagine and he settled on staring at a shot where I’d turned my hips so my ass was the centerpiece of the picture.</p><p>“Do you like that picture?” I asked.</p><p>“I love it,” he said.</p><p>I scooted a little closer. I was definitely turned on and I was fairly certain Alex was too, so I decided to try and push it a little.</p><p>I moved my hand to his leg and rubbed his inner thigh as I asked, “Do you think about the other guys, the guys on Tinder, when you look at it?”</p><p>Alex nodded.</p><p>“I do too,” I said. “I…I actually kept the photos in case I start chatting with a guy that wants to see a little more. If that happens, I could send him that picture you’re looking at. I could send it and tell him that I’d wear that lingerie for him if we met up. That’s what I think about when I look at that picture.”</p><p>“And does…does thinking about that…do you like thinking about that?” Alex asked.</p><p>This was the moment where I decided to go for it, partly because I was really turned on and partly because I was certain Alex was really turned on and I wanted him to feel like it was okay to be aroused at the idea of me sleeping with other guys.</p><p>So, I leaned in, kissed his neck, let my fingers slide up his thigh and between his legs, and said, “I love thinking about it, Alex. I’m thinking about it right now. I’m thinking about it and my heart is pounding and…and my pussy is wet.”</p><p>I think it was the last part that put Alex over the top. He turned his head and we kissed. It wasn’t some simple little kiss, either. It was a wildly passionate kiss. It felt so good and the fact that his cock was rock hard really turned me on.</p><p>I took my phone from him, tossed it aside, and straddled him. We kissed again and then he yanked my shirt off and I reached back to unhook my bra. He took my breasts in his hands and we kissed again as he rolled my nipples in his fingers, driving me absolutely wild with desire (I love having my nipples played with).</p><p>One of Alex’s hands worked its way down my stomach and into my shorts. His fingers found their way into my panties and between my pussy lips where he discovered that I wasn’t lying about how wet I was.</p><p>“Wow,” he said.</p><p>“I’m really wet,” I replied. “Taking those pictures and making that profile really turned me on, Alex. Guys are already looking at it. Some have messaged me. They want me.”</p><p>Alex played with my pussy as he asked, “They want to fuck you?”</p><p>There was such confidence in his voice as he asked the question. It was like his arousal had overwhelmed whatever discomfort he felt at being turned on by the idea of me sleeping with someone else. It was really hot.</p><p>“Yes, baby, they want to fuck me,” I answered. By that point my pussy was gushing. Alex was doing wonderful things with his fingers and my clit felt so much more sensitive than usual, meaning every little bit of stimulation turned me on.</p><p>“I want to fuck you,” Alex said.</p><p>I smiled. “I want that too.” I hopped off his lap, took off my shorts and panties, and helped him out of his pants. I thought about a little foreplay, but his dick was stiff with a little bit of precum at the tip and I’m pretty sure he was ready for me, so I got back in his lap, took him inside me, and sank down on his cock.</p><p>“Fuck, Erica, you feel incredible,” he said.</p><p>“Suck on my nipples,” I instructed. I wanted to feel as much pleasure as possible. Alex took my nipple in his mouth and flicked his tongue over it as he sucked gently. I rode him as he did, squeezing my pussy around his cock and grinding my clit into his pubic bone with wild abandon.</p><p>I’m not embarrassed to admit that I thought about the guys who’d messaged me. I hadn’t said anything to Alex because I wasn’t sure he was ready to hear about how much interest I’d garnered, but there were hundreds of messages. Most were worthless, but a dozen or so were from gorgeous guys that said all the right things. I let my imagination run wild as I rode Alex. I thought about some of those guys. I thought about their hard bodies, their skillfully delivered words of seduction, and their promises of giving me whatever I wasn’t getting at home.</p><p>The end result was a massive orgasm. My whole body trembled. My toes curled, which never happens. I also came really quickly. Less than a minute.</p><p>“Wow,” Alex said as I came to a standstill in his lap. “That was fast.”</p><p>I unleashed a joyful laugh. “It really was. Sorry about that.”</p><p>“That’s okay,” he said. “What…if you don’t mind me asking, what got you off so quickly?”</p><p>My clit was too sensitive to keep going, so I lifted my pussy from Alex’s cock and dropped to my knees in front of the couch. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and kissed the head before running my tongue over it, eliciting a lovely moan from my husband.</p><p>“Are you sure you want to know?” I asked. He nodded and I took the swollen head of his cock in my mouth and ran my tongue all over it. “I thought about some of the messages I’ve received on Tinder. I thought about some of the guys that want to fuck me.”</p><p>I took him in my mouth again. “Oh, shit, Erica,” Alex said as I sucked hard and swallowed half his shaft with ease. I moaned as the head neared the back of my throat and Alex responded with a moan of his own. I can’t really deepthroat so I didn’t even try, but I started bobbing up and down, sucking and stroking and doing everything I could to make him feel good.</p><p>“Do you like that I thought about them?” I asked.</p><p>“Yes,” he said. “It’s so fucked up, but I like that you thought about them.”</p><p>I kissed my way from the base of his cock to the tip and held it against my lips as I said, “It’s not fucked up, Alex. I just had an incredible orgasm because of it, because of you. It’s not fucked up, it’s beautiful.”</p><p>I licked the underside of his cockhead like a lollipop and ran my fingers up and down the shaft. Alex moaned, just like I wanted him to.</p><p>“Do you like that other men want to fuck me?” I asked.</p><p>Alex nodded.</p><p>“You like that they want to fuck your wife?” I asked before taking him in my mouth.</p><p>He nodded again, this time with greater vigor. Then his cock swelled up in my mouth and a long, low groan exited his throat as multiple shots of cum exited the tip of his dick. He filled my mouth with a sizable load of semen as I held his cock head between my lips and gently ran my tongue over the underside.</p><p>I swallowed, kissed the head of Alex’s cock one more time, and then got on the couch and cuddled up with him.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said.</p><p>“It was my pleasure, believe me,” I replied.</p><p>The sex was great. Better than any sex we’d had in the past year. It made me wonder if I needed to bother sleeping with someone else. Maybe all our sex life needed was an infusion of something different and exciting and naughty.</p><p>I’ll talk about that next time, though.</p>