The Anniversary Story: A Foray Into Voyeurism and Exhibitionism Part II

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Editors Note: This is a long post but I couldn’t help but include all of the relevant juicy details, I so I hope you will indulge me.

In the first installment of this two-part post, I detailed my initiation into watching others as they engaged in sex, commonly known as voyuerism, and how it sparked a desire within me to be watched by others while having sex, commonly known as exhibitionism.  I highly recommend that you return to part one if you have not read it yet, as the context of that evening is central to understanding my evolution with these two forms of sexual expression.  

I left my readers with the knowledge that a desire was born within me that night to be seen in my most carnal and hedonistic state.  That desire was tempered by the understanding that my boyfriend would, for various reasons, not likely be the ideal partner for this particular theatrical production.  I was left in this mental quagmire for a few months, and although the desire was present in the back of my mind I didn’t allow it to hinder the evolution we were experiencing as a couple.

The story of how I evolved into that woman, the center of attention and the object of other’s gaze while having sex, is not nearly as linear as the story I last told.  It is a journey that occurred over several key moments in time,  like the blossoming of a flower.  I will share my most salient memories, like pins to mark our path on a map, culminating in the story behind the famous anniversary audio. 

The Smile

Six months after the night I described in part one, my boyfriend and I had the good fortune of meeting some other couples in the swinging lifestyle whose company we enjoyed.  We became fast friends with one couple because we all shared a great deal in common, as they were both new to the lifestyle and right around my age.  I was fairly attracted to the husband, my boyfriend was fairly attracted to the wife (a match made in heaven for most swinger pairings) and we began being introduced to their broader group of friends.

Although we had spent time with this couple at several lifestyle events, we had yet to swap and play with them.  I noticed a rare weekend when my boyfriend and I would have a Saturday night off together and I proposed that we host a get together at our home with the couple.  My boyfriend tended to be much more comfortable in private settings so I hoped he would be able to let loose and have some fun.  He agreed, and after I reached out to the couple, the date was set.

The evening arrived, and everything was perfectly arranged.  My home was immaculate as I like it to be when I am hosting, candles were lit, the lights were low.  As my boyfriend and I sat on the couch and sipped champagne waiting for our guests to arrive, my phone buzzed with a notification.  The text was from the wife, and it read “Hey!  We’re on our way, I hope you don’t mind but we’re bringing a friend with us.”  I looked at my boyfriend quizzically and read the text to him.  “A guy or a girl?”  He asked.  I responded to the text in turn, and quickly got a response.  It was a guy, one of the husband’s good friends.  For a moment I was slightly frustrated that the perfect couple-swap scenario I had envisioned had gone awry.  My boyfriend interrupted my thought process quickly with a blunt statement: “He can come over.”  I relayed this message to our friends, and before we knew it they were in our home.  

Our previously quiet home was now full of laughter and merriment brought by our two established friends and our new third friend.  Before long, the wife and I all dashed to the room and excitedly doffed our clothes while our gentlemen play partners delved into their pockets for condoms.  The next hour or so consisted of a flurry of oral stimulation, penetration and writhing bodies.  As is always the case, my memory of who I was fucking in what order and how the sex transpired eludes me during recollection.  However, there is one moment that stands out.  

As is often the case when I play with a group, I would be a part of the last pair fucking.  Suddenly, the noise level in my bedroom seemed to drop 20 decibels.  I became aware that the couple, the friends we had invited, were picking up their clothes and getting dressed.  I glanced over at them from my position on all fours on my bed, where the friend they had brought was vigorously fucking my ass.  Then I heard an exclamation from the other side of the room.

“His cock is huge and she is taking all of it!”

I whipped my head around to see my boyfriend, standing tall in the corner of the room.  His expression was one of pure joy and he was smiling from ear to ear.  He stood and watched until my new friend had cum in my ass, and I gleefully hopped off the bed and kissed him.  That moment carried much more significance than I could have realized at the time.  I didn’t understand just how much pleasure my boyfriend was deriving from watching me with a more well-endowed man.  I wasn’t yet aware that my boyfriend’s cuckolding desires were becoming more and more pervasive.  I was introduced to the idea of my boyfriend as the audience in my performance of sexual voracity that evening, and I couldn’t help but admit that I enjoyed basking in the passion and intensity of his gaze.

The Show

My next moment of reveling in exhibitionism occurred the better part of a year following that evening. A few notable events occurred between the evening with our friends and the evening I’m about to describe.  My boyfriend became my fiancé and my cuckold.  I became a burgeoning cuckoldress and began exploring what that title, and the sexual freedom my fiancé had bestowed with it, meant to me.  I had been in a non-monogamous relationship for a while, so I took stock of the things I enjoyed in the hope that my new role would allow me to amplify those elements and reduce my exposure to the portions of the lifestyle that I found undesirable.  In the course of taking this inventory I placed indulging in exhibitionism high on my list.  I knew I would enjoy having passionate sex with a bull in front of my cuck while he was locked up and I wondered if I may even have the opportunity to garner a larger audience with my newly discovered sexual power.

I had begun the process of interviewing and meeting local bulls and my cuck and I had a few experiences in the privacy of our home.  One of those experiences was with my first black bull, who for the purpose of this post I will call Jerome.  My first date with Jerome was one of the rare dates I have experienced in the lifestyle that did not go well (a story for another entry).  The fault did not lie with him, in fact, I desperately wanted to see him again.  There was something about his presence I found extremely alluring.  He was soft spoken and when we spoke the timbre of his voice reminded me of the warmth of sunlight on my skin.  He had a broad and inviting smile and when we kissed I felt passionate lust searing through my skin.  

I enjoyed my conversations with Jerome because he was inquisitive in all the right ways.  He consistently asked me thought-provoking questions that fueled the potential in my new relationship dynamic.  He introduced play possibilities and invited me to share them with my cuck.  I felt abundantly safe when I was with him and he introduced me to elements of the lifestyle I would come to love.  

One mundane Tuesday in January I got a message from Jerome inviting me to spend time with him during the upcoming weekend.   We began chatting and the tempo of the conversation quickened.  I became aroused at the thought of the amazing sex I was going to have with him and I allowed a lingering desire to become an urgent beckoning.

“I want you to take me out.”  I texted.  Moments later, a message came through: “Oh yeah?  Where do you want to go?”  I thought for a moment and boldly messaged: “I want to go somewhere where you can fuck me in front of a crowd of people.”  A moment passed, and then another moment.  My body tensed and I felt a twinge of anxiety about how my new bull would respond to my suggestion.  I laid my phone down and before I could remove my hand from it I felt the tell-tale vibration of my messenger. I hurriedly grasped at my phone and unlocked it.  

“Let’s make that happen.  I know the perfect place.” I read.  I could feel my face becoming flushed and feelings of excitement coursed through my veins.  I remember texting my cuck right away and sharing in a flirty, light conversation with him about it. He was thrilled for me.  I returned my thoughts to my work and participated in the time honored American tradition of living for the upcoming Saturday night.

When Saturday came, I found myself in the very setting I described in my previous installment.  My bull had just parked his car outside a nondescript strip mall with an unmarked door.  This time we were only there for a few moments to gather our drinks and my “slut bag” containing the lingerie I would change into within a few moments of arriving, condoms, and a few toys.   I confidently walked beside my bull as we both entered the club, but I was slightly disappointed by the crowd of people I saw gathered inside.  There were only about 40 people milling about in the cavernous space of the main dance floor.  This swinger club location had just recently opened its doors and I was expecting a much larger group of party-goers than the currently visible patrons.  Slightly deflated, I followed my bull to a couch, sat beside him and rested my hand on his knee as he poured out our drinks.  We sat talking for a few minutes, and I felt a strong gravitational urge to kiss his pillowy soft lips.  As we passionately kissed I heard a voice faintly say my name as if it was uttered at the end of a long tunnel.  I pulled myself from my bull’s strong embrace and looked up to see my friend, the wife who I had invited to our home, standing beside her husband.  

A lightning bolt of fear stung through my chest.  I hadn’t informed any of our swinger friends that my fiancé and I changed our lifestyle dynamic at that point for a few key reasons.  My fiancé had expressed that he did not want anyone to know and we both agreed that our swinger friends were not likely to understand some of the more nuanced dynamics of cuckolding.  Now, I found myself staring directly at my friend who had clearly seen me passionately kissing my muscular black bull with my fiancé nowhere in sight.  How was I to explain this?  

At certain points in life, two paths appear before you in an instant that dictate how you are going to handle a situation.  You can either dance around, deflect, or straight-up deceive or you can be radically honest and let the chips fall where they may.  I am so grateful I decided on the latter in the few moments it took for me to excitedly dash up to meet my friends with a warm embrace.  I introduced Jerome to each of them as my bull.

“Bull?”  The wife said quizzically. 

I leaned in to speak in her ear so she could clearly hear me over the din of the (still super shity) music blaring from the DJ’s booth.  

“My fiancé and I have entered into a really exciting new stage in the lifestyle.  I can’t wait to tell you all about it!  For now though, let’s have some fun!”  

“Okay!  I’m so happy for you guys!”  She said genuinely. I grabbed her hand and ushered her to the dance floor and danced with her for the remainder of the song while her husband and my bull exchanged pleasantries.  When the song ended, I approached my bull with a static and contagious energy. “Can we go play baby?”  I asked, staring deeply into his eyes.  “Fuck yes!” He answered immediately and we walked together to the back portion of the club, where the vacant playrooms lay in wait.

The layout of this club was different from the one I described in the previous installment .  There was no “pit” as I had hoped, but there was a single bed situated in the middle of an open room with a few couches along the walls.  There were a few playrooms with doors to the left of the bed.  My bull casually walked past each of those and led me right to the bed in the center of the room.  We began passionately kissing and leaned onto the bed.  In one swift motion my bull bent me over his knee and delivered a few hard slaps on my ass, pushing my thong to the side so he could caress my ass and sopping wet pussy between each blow.  I could feel the strength of his massive erection bursting through his pants. With each breath I took, my desire to swallow it intensified.  Finally, he pushed us both on to the bed and began to unbuckle his belt.  While my focus was completely tunneled on the beautiful black cock I was about to worship, I couldn’t help but notice that during the motion blur of us getting on to the bed that a few curious onlookers had congregated in the room.  Just as this realization that we were being watched dawned on me, my bull’s ebony cock was freed from his pants and I set about doing what I love most in this world: orally servicing my King. 

I’m not sure how long I was lost in the passion of suckling, gagging, and having my face fucked before my bull instructed me to climb on top of him.  I hastened to feel the fullness of his perfect dick inside me, and I climbed up to him greedily.  As I placed him inside my pussy I heard a small cheer behind me, but before I could even process it I was transported into ecstasy by the first powerful thrust of his cock against my cervix.  Lost in pleasure, I could hear snippets of conversations occurring around me.  I heard laughter and the hushed tones of dirty talk and I rode my bull with a greater passion than any man that had ever had me in that position. I then became aware of my bull tapping my leg and his low, sexy voice saying “turn around.”  I eagerly adjusted on all fours and got my first full view of the room around me in some time.  The empty room was buzzing with people watching us from every angle imaginable.   Before I could even get a sense of how many people were actually in the room I felt my bull mount my sensitive pussy and I was lost again in a moment of sheer, orgasmic pleasure.  

I became drunk with the energy of my aroused audience as they watched my bull fuck me.  I looked deeply into their eyes, moaned sensually and verbally invited their gaze.  I turned my head and my eyes met with my girlfriend.  I allowed a big smile to come across my face and pushed back on my bull’s cock vigorously.  There was certainly no hiding why I preferred to be out with my bull than my fiancé now!  

After basking in the glow of my audience’s gaze for quite some time I asked my lover to fill me with his strong bull seed.  The tempo of his thrusts quickened and my pussy clung to him, waiting to be soaked in him.  I felt the pulsating ripple of my lover’s orgasm and the energy of it hit me like a speeding freight train.  We slowly detangled from one another and found ourselves among the throng of people we had ushered into the room.  As we pulled the sheets from the mattress I noticed that some of the women were on their knees before the men, eagerly sucking their cocks.  As my bull assisted the staff member in changing the sheets, I sauntered out to the main dance floor to retrieve my drink and was shocked by what I saw: there was not a soul to be seen there.  The entirety of the club had been pulled into the playrooms ignited by the spark of lust I felt for my bull.  

There was not a soul to be seen there… 

It was then I realized exactly why I love exhibitionism.   It has nothing to do with putting on a good show or being the center of attention.  It’s about the opportunity

The Story

Many evenings of soaking in exhibitionist energy followed that fateful evening with Jerome.  With each opportunity to watch and be seen my confidence grew.  Sex clubs, parties, and lifestyle events became an abundantly comfortable space to both ground myself and let loose depending on what I needed at the time.  Then, just as my sluttivities were building towards the development of a community with a solid group of bulls and couples who had become dear friends, the COVID-19 pandemic struck.  In the doldrums of the various lock-downs, closures, and rampant fear my beaming exhibitionist spirit began to wilt and decay.  I held out hope for the time when life would return to normalcy and I could step out into the night once again.

One evening I got a message from a bull I had met the previous year.  He was going out to a new club that had opened right before the pandemic hit and wondered if I would like to accompany him.  I remembered our evening together fondly, and I allowed a spark of hope to ignite within me.  I spoke with my cuck about the invitation and he encouraged me to go, probably tired of the months he had spent dealing with my high energy cooped up in our home.  

The day we were scheduled to go out my bull messaged me and told me that he had invited another Hotwife he played with to accompany us.  I was excited by the opportunity to meet another like minded woman and my attitude when it comes to going out is always “The more the merrier!”  As the evening approached I instructed my cuckold to dust off my slut bag and we set about our routine of packing my essentials, affixing my queen of spades tattoos, and selecting my outfit.  He laid out three pairs of panties and I decided to bring them all.  We giggled and kissed, both extremely excited about what the night would bring.  When my bull messaged that he arrived at our home, I almost couldn’t believe I was really about to go out.  It was as if I was waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under my feet any second.  That feeling finally faded on the ride to the club as I engaged in conversation with my bull and my new friend.  

By this time I don’t need to describe the interior of the club to you.  It had all the required elements: a large dance floor, a voyeur room, closed-door playrooms, and really bad music blaring from the DJ booth.  As we walked to an open table a surreal feeling grasped a hold of me-it was as if all those nights in the past weren’t as distant of a memory as I thought they would be.  They were, in fact, woven into a tapestry that was yet to be completed.  

At some point much later in the evening, I stood chatting with my friends in the corner of the crowded voyeur room.  My brain registered an image captured from my peripheral view.  I automatically swung my head around to bring my full focus to the scene occurring behind me.  Time seemed to momentarily slow down as I gazed upon a black man mounting a sexy Latinx woman from behind.  That is the most basic description and surely that’s what most people were registering as they watched.  I was tuned into an entirely different frequency: I saw every muscle beneath his regal ebony skin flex as he powerfully thrust himself inside her.  I noticed every reaction in her body as she captured the pure force of his cock within her.  I felt the energy flow from his hips to her pussy all the way up to the crown of her head and back as he completed his rotation and pulled his cock out again, only to trust even deeper once more.  Although I could not see his cock, I deduced immediately it had to be massive.

I felt my feet beneath me take a step in their direction completely involuntary, as if a  jet stream of energy was pulling me towards this couple.  I approached the bed the couple was playing on and the heat of their sex became palpable to me.  When I got to the edge of the bed I felt my knees hit the carpet and my ass extended out and the full view of him taking her was revealed.  My slut instincts were more than accurate: not only was his cock massive-it was one of the largest big black cocks I have ever seen. The muscles in my jaw became slack for a moment out of sheer instinct to swallow him, even though I knew it was unlikely he would notice me at all in all of the frenzied activity in the room…

Right as that thought ran through my head he looked down at me and our eyes locked.  The power in his gaze drew the breath from my lungs.  He didn’t skip a beat in his sex with his partner and in that moment I hoped sincerely my energy was on his radar as much as his was on mine.  I broke his gaze and looked at the woman enjoying his huge bbc.  

I’d like to insert an aside at this moment for a brief and important interlude about swinger club etiquette and consent. Even though the scene I am describing is indescribably arousing and almost sounds like the contrived script of a porno, what you are thinking is going to happen next is probably off base.  I did not touch the man or the woman, as I follow the same rules of engagement as everyone should in sex-positive environments: you do not touch anyone unless asking for and receiving explicit enthusiastic consent.  This procedure is not different for me because I am a woman or because I was scantily clad or because my body language was inviting.  Furthermore, I would not have approached this couple if they were playing in the private area of the club behind closed doors.  Even if I were enthralled by watching them walk to a room together, there is an understanding that if you are playing behind a closed door you do not want an audience and I would have respected that. 

The porno, fantasy version of the following moments is probably that the man pulled his cock out of the woman and placed it in my mouth without speaking a word to me.  But that is not what happened.  The reality of the following few seconds is that I uttered some hushed dirty talk and watched as long as I could before I heard my name called out from behind me.  I pulled my energy away from the coupe and stood up to rejoin my friends.  I am always apt to live in the moment, so I let the extremely hot memory of the couple slip into the recesses of my mind-carrying a small flame of hope that I might run into this man again.

The rest of the evening contained a lot of fun, hot moments between my bull and my new friend.  The club thinned out as the wee hours of the morning trickled down.  The DJ announced that the club was closing and I knew what was to follow: the blazing fluorescent lights would turn on and the few remaining guests would be ushered out.  I decided to circumvent that unpleasant experience and headed to our table to gather my belongings.  As I was packing up my slut bag I felt a soft touch on my shoulder.  I turned around fully expecting to see one of my friends and let a small gasp escape my lips when I immediately recognized the King standing before me.  

“Hey.  I saw you earlier.”  He said quietly.

A felt a flush overtake my face and I struggled to find the words to respond.

“I did.  That was unbelievably hot.” I said.

He let a small, sly smile come across his face.  

“I was wondering if you wanted to play?” He asked almost coyly-already well aware what my answer would be.

A torrent of excitement overtook me.  I didn’t care it was nearly three AM, I didn’t care that I was tired, I didn’t care that my feet were hurting from standing in my heels.  I wanted this King inside me about as badly as I have ever wanted anything.  

“Fuck Yes!!!” I exclaimed.  

He motioned over to the play rooms and I wrapped my arm around his muscular bicep and followed him there.  As soon as we crossed the threshold I began removing my clothes and he did the same. Before my panties were even off he powerfully bent me over the bed, I felt him grasping the temporary queen of spades tattoo on my ass and heard him remark, “Oh, a queen of spades Hugh?”  I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or someone else but an instant later none of that mattered.  Nothing mattered.  I was transported into a plane of intense pleasure the likes of which I had seldom experienced before.  Words fail to adequately describe it.  The primal, hedonistic energy of his massive black cock pummeling my pussy into submission can only be felt on spiritual terms.  With every thrust he battered against my cervix, providing me with the elixir of pain and pleasure I so cravenly desire.  The noises coming out of my mouth were raw and guttural.  I begged for every thrust, encouraging him in every way I could.  I felt him grab my ass and begin to flip me over.  I eagerly opened my legs as wide as possible to receive him, and he began to once again fuck me within an inch of breaking my mind with intense pleasure.  I felt my pussy contract and my voice getting louder. “Yes King!  Yes King fuck me, Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god King!” A wash of dopamine came over my body and I seized into an intense vaginal orgasm.  Even as he felt my body contract and spasm he grabbed my hips and thrust even harder until he came, filling my rippling wet cunt with his strong bull seed.

After floating down to earth from the nirvana I had just experienced I reoriented myself to the time and space I occupied.  I could hear the droning of the DJ informing the club-goers that the club was closing.  I lept to my feet, pulled my panties up and approached the man who had just fucked me so well.  The words that fell out of my mouth didn’t surprise me.

“You fuck like a GOD!”  I exclaimed.

My new bull, who I was learning is rather mild-mannered, let out a small laugh.

“You take it like a Goddess.” He replied, prompting a huge smile to cross my face. 

“You can have this pussy anytime you want, King!” I confidently replied.  We exchanged contact information and parted ways.  He has since become one of my regular bulls, and each time we play I remember that wonderful evening.  I was completely unaware of this at the time but my other bull was gracious enough to capture a few seconds of our first encounter on video.  The audio from that video was featured in my blog post She’s Got A Dirty Mouth and seems to be a favorite of my readers.  

When I set out to write this story I did not expect to include as much elaboration and I certainly didn’t anticipate a two-part blog post.  I am abundantly glad I trusted my instincts to tell the story of my love of exhibitionism and voyeurism in it’s full depth and context.  Now I am quite certain this collection of stories will become a running series on my blog and I look forward to sharing more of my forays into voyeurism and exhibitionism with you.

Special thanks to my editor Castaway for so generously lending his time and talents to my blog.

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