Threesome Fancies

There is one thing on my list of things to do before I die that is completely out of my hands: a threesome. Two beautiful girls, one of whom is my wife, and I, playing around. Drunk on fun, goofy sex. I want this rather pedestrian — in this day and age — fantasy to come true, but the deciding vote is, of course, my wife. Luckily, a long time ago she said that if ever in our travels, I meet someone who meets her standards of “clean” and “trustworthy,” she’s game.

Yes, this is a plain old, vanilla, nothing-to-write-home-about fantasy. It’s married-for-a-decade fodder.

The thing is, the texture of that threesome in my head changes depending on if I’m dominant or submissive.

Dominant, my threesome is basically the same as back when I was vanilla — two women, and the women fool around. They have fun, and then it becomes about me. The difference, really, when I’m dominant compared to when I’m vanilla, is that I can order them around — “Do this.” “Do that.” “Worship me.” It ceases to be about me under the surface — which is what it was about in my vanilla fantasy — and really becomes about me right there in the open: all about my pleasure. My power.

Submissive, though…oh, my submissive threesome fantasies were many and varied. My favorite is of me and a female sub, both “in the position.” Heads on our crossed arms, asses in the air, on the bed, in front of her. My wife. She whips us. She sodomizes us. She cuts us and licks the blood. She applies clamps. Makes us wear ballgags and bits and smothers us in her thighs. The pain gets heavy, our cries louder, and then, my fellow sub reaches out — or I do, I’m certainly not saying I’ll be the tougher sub — and we simply hold hands. The idea is so hot: as we work through the ordeal, I find a new level of intimacy based on shared pain. I’m not suffering alone. She — this other girl — and I share some deep bond, not wholly sexual, not vanilla male-and-female, based on our devotion to my wife, our suffering for my wife, the humiliation she heaps upon us. My head recedes into subspace, my wife this burning sun that is all that exists for me as the pain and the sex continues — but there’s this other presence, this loving presence, that knows my pain. Knows my devotion for my wife. Shares it. There’s no jealousy, no competition, because we’re both the same: slaves. Slaves for her.

This other sub and I never have to have sex, never have to do anything but hold hands or embrace as the beatings push us beyond the edge.

Or, in another fantasy the other woman is another domme. She and my wife take turns beating me, fucking me, making me fuck them. One of them rides me with a strap-on while I ride the other. One of them uses me in my mouth while the other fucks my ass or beats me. My blood runs as they drink it from either shoulder. My gangbang fantasy comes true, too, and I’m sorely used, battered, tormented, and beaten, by two women. They make me choose between them, and no matter who I choose — always my wife — it’s wrong, and the beatings begin over again. Instead of shared intimacy in shared pain, there’s shared intimacy in her dominating me like my wife — there are two suns in the room, two sources of heat and power, overwhelming, taking me to the edge, one of them picking up where the other leaves off when they get tired.

There’s even a fantasy that breaks the most sanctified of straight-male taboos: My wife breaking a young man in front of me, screwing both of us, one after the other, her appetite never tiring. Her sick imagination and our submission merging into God knows what. Not cuckolding — shared submission. Cuckolding to me means that I’m second-class and the other male has primacy. In this fantasy, we’re both second-class. Both subordinate to her, my wife. Her power, exerted on someone else. Her power, exerted on me. Her, as queen, as center of the world, as the axis mundi for both myself and my fellow sub. Her pleasure, paramount to both of us. Her power crushing our will to fight or deny her. This is the mirror to my dominant fantasy of her and another woman — instead, this is me, a slave to her pleasure, worshipping her alongside another man.

If nothing else, kink has certainly broadened my horizons as to what’s possible with a threesome…