Love Your Mommy and Daddy: "Please, Fuck My Gay Husband"
I loved cumming in him. His wife loved it even more.
This essay is part of the “Love Your Mommy and Daddy” series, where writers share times they fucked people their parents’ age. Read the first installment here. If you are interested in submitting, please read the Boyslut zine submission guidelines.
"Please, Fuck My Gay Husband"
Most of my friends don’t like swinger parties. They claim they aren’t queer-inclusive, and the older men are “too aggressive” and “creepy.” My friends are correct (to a degree), but I still LOVE swinger parties. Personally, every sex space doesn’t need to be extremely queer-inclusive for me to have a fun time. I also know that some “older” folks are more touchy, so I mentally prepare, knowing that I may have to state my boundaries more than usual. That’s fine by me.
I’ve also come to realize that while many men don’t flaunt their bisexuality the way that I do, they are indeed looking for dick. As for their wives? They love how much their husbands love dick.
This is where I come in.
I was at a swingers “takeover” in Cabo two years ago, meaning the resort was filled with swingers and only swingers. Everything about it was decadent—the open bar, spacious private rooms, half-naked performers, etc. It was a space for the rich to be rich and slutty. I can only aspire to be as rich as the attendees, though I can confidently say that I exceed them in sluttiness.
By the pool one day, there was a couple getting bottle service, Casa Azul. Mind you, mid-range alcohol was included, so paying for this top-shelf bottle was a completely unnecessary monetary flex.
The wife looked younger than Goldie Hawn but older than Kate Hudson—and dressed nearly identically to Hudson in Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery. In fact, I’m pretty sure she was wearing this outfit when she called me over to her cabana.
(Image from Netflix)
I looked behind both my shoulders before pointing to myself and mouthing, “Me?”
She tilted her head back and let out a loud, exaggerated laugh before shouting, “Yes, you!”
I waded through the pool to her cabana and looked up at her.
“Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing,” she said with a Southern lilt.
I smiled, said thank you, and returned the compliment. She was a testimony to how wealth can buy beauty because she must have been close to 60 but didn’t look a day over 40. Only close up could I see the facelift, botox, and fillers—and that’s just because I get injections myself, so I’m aware of how faces change with a face full of syringes.
And her body was perfect. No doubt she has a personal pilates instructor, whom she fucks regularly. Her fake tits weren’t too big to her frame but close to it. The ideal size for me. And her ass had some meat despite her otherwise lean frame.
“Would you like a drink?” she asked, pouring from the patterned white and blue bottle. “Of course,” I replied. I knew she was hitting on me but couldn’t help but wonder why. I know I’m attractive, and it could be as simple as she wanted to fuck, but I felt there was something more. To pick me out of a crowd and attempt to “woo me” with fancy alcohol? She was trying hard in a way where she didn’t have to. She was royalty, and I was a mere peasant who would be lucky to kiss her feet.
When I raised myself out of the pool, she said she loved my Speedo, which, skin-colored with a pink patch over my junk, was ostensibly homosexual. I said I loved her orange two-piece, and we smiled. She introduced me to her fiftysomething-year-old husband, a tanned man, and soon it became clear that they were Vegas rich. Not owner of a casino billionaire rich, but something to do with a casino fifty million rich.
When Hudson talked to me, she spoke inches away from my face as if asking me to kiss her. Eventually, I leaned in, and we started making out in front of her husband; he watched cooly through his classic Ray Ban Aviators.
I started softly but then let my hands wander to the small of her back and ass. She then whispered in my ear, “Do you like men, too?”
Ah, this was why I was picked. She knew. I smiled and said, “I do.”
“I’d love to watch you fuck my husband,” she said.
“As long as I get to fuck you, too,” I replied.
“Deal,” she said, grinning ear to ear. She nodded to her husband, and without saying a word, the three of us got up and left the cabana. And to my surprise, a sexy younger female staffer who worked for the swinger takeover followed behind us. It was as if she was on call, and all three were in on this sexual scheme.
They had the biggest suite at the corner of the hotel that overlooked both the ocean and the marina. A master king bed resided in the center of the room—an extremely impractical location but ideal for what was about to happen.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to BOYSLUT to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.