Tinderella Diary Volume 3: Hard Times

By Alexia Knight

See how Lexi's story evolves during hard times
Nine months after married mom Lexi Knight embarks on a secret sexual awakening that changes her entire life, the entire world is struck by coronavirus. How will she continue as Tinderella when people are forbidden to gather, businesses are closed, and life as we know it is changing daily?

Join the final leg of her saga as Lexi re-connects with some of her favorite flings and meets new lovers aplenty. The drama has never been higher as men come in and out of Lexi's life. Her desire, temptation, and frustration lead her on a new path of continuing self-discovery and growth.
How will Lexi's story end?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667812489

Book preview

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© 2021 Alexia Knight

ISBN: 978-1-66-781248-9

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Table of Contents

Part 1: March 2020

Brooklyn and Boston

Brad Lipinski – The New Gigi (and Phil Meet Cute)

Wayne – Just What the Doctor Ordered

Vitamin Deagan

(Untitled)

Seven (VII)

CJ – Encore Performance

The Captain – April Fool’s Day

Travis – The White Boy with Dreadlocks

Hiking with Dwayne

Trent – The Druggie

Just Thomas and I

Easter Sunday with The Captain

Fisher Cheers Me Up

Randy – In Camarillo

You Phil Up My Senses

Men from Betty and Burke’s Chat Group

Luis — Yo No Se Mañana

When Will I Get my Phil?

Stefan & Gil

Filipino Gregg

Nathan – CSUN student

Phil-ing Me Softly

Part 2: May 2020

Hiking with Martin

Azat – The Professor

Levi – Cirque Du Soleil

Lou — The Boyfriend

Saturday Afternoon with The Captain

Party at Gils

Phil Me Up, Buttercup

Bill Hollidae

(Untitled)

Nothing Phils the Hole

Sushi with Clark

Bill – Summer Solstice

Dinner at Tim’s House

Last Saturday with Bill Hollidae

Brooklyn & Cam

The Pubes That Started a War… and Drew

Cesar, The Predator; Me, The Willing Prey

Edward Returns

4th of July Weekend

Come Phil Me Again

Part 3: July 2020

Chad in Santa Monica

Prince Charles from Vegas and Red

Salt Lake City – Weston

George at the Hotel

Kenneth’s Boutique

Tom & Tim Together

Ramon and Jeremiah

Red’s Rule – Our 2nd Date

Zane at The Huntley

Bill, Jeremiah and Keith: A Trio of Nuts

Philthy Mess on Aisle 4

Jeremiah Was a Psycho – Joy to The World

Lovely Liam

Jeremiah & Tammy

Red – 2nd and 3rd Dates (According to Him)

Part 4: August 2020

Jeremiah After Dark

Phil Up My Tank

Enrique ‘s Truck and Bucks

Gregg Returns and Boston Leaves

Friday Evening at Jeremiah’s

Lonely Jake and Gregg

Amir – The Simp

Levi’s Attempt at Redemption

Phil My Heart with Sadness

Ace – Starbucks Date

Dan – Redbird

Red — 4th Date

Sean — From Philly

(Untitled)

Cliff – The Pizzeria Dad

Coffee With Dylan Kim

Lunch with Roy in Calabasas

Dustin Split

Return of Bill and Brooklyn

Sayonara Jeremiah, Hola Cesar

Part 5: October 2020

805 Party with Ace

Darko

Diamond Steve

Sergei & Kat

Darko 2

Phil-er Up

Diamond Bar

New Lou in Pasadena – World Series Game 1

Jacques

Ezekiel – The Bodyguard

Omar – Bed Bath and Way Beyond

Erwin & Rafael

Election Night – Craig and Rafael Solo

Frank Siegel and a Date with Charlie

Brooklyn – America’s Best Value

Joey – A Married Man

Gregg’s Birthday

Cesar’s Daughter’s Quinceañera

Encore with New Lou

Curtis – By the Airport

Phil In the Blanks

Part 6: November 2020

Gary — Sugarfish

Phil My Cup

Cliff – Taiwan Vacation

Johnny/Juan

Pre-Holiday Massage from Thomas

Geezer and George, and The Lockout

Brooklyn – FFM

Edward – Christmas Eve (again)

Buff Connor

Lonely Jake

Calvin — Sure Stay

Shenanigans with Married Joey

Feeling Phil-osophical

New Lou Dos

Chet at Starbucks

Geezer’s Turn

Clayton – Ring Light

Blake Pisses Me Off

Ricky Bites the Dust

Part 7: February 2021

Benny at The Angelino

Chet in Cerritos

Terrence – Fresh Meat

Pedro’s Delivery

Zooming with Helios

Aye Aye, Captain

Gus’ Private Reading

JR’s Layover

Grant at Marmalade Cafe

Jax Marti – My #1 Fan

Grant in the Santa Monica Mountains

Big Shoes to Phil

Jeffrey Baumgardner – The Swinger

Porn Theater with Cody

Married Joey Returns

Larry at Lunetta

Life is Best When You’re Living It

Let Them Hear What Can Start with a Whisper

Epilogue: March 2021

Part 1

March 2020

Brooklyn and Boston

Brooklyn gives a final emphatic thrust and cums deep inside me.

That’s a slutty outfit you wore for me, Lexi, he says as he climbs off of me leaving me flat on my back in the passenger seat of his car with the seat fully reclined, my crotchless fishnet full-body black catsuit now moistened with the combination of his ejaculate and my wetness. A little bit was left on his cloth interior for good measure.

It had been three weeks since Brooklyn and I had last seen one another. It didn’t take him long to finish. He had snuck out of the house to grab a few groceries and needed to get back. Brooklyn is not a quickie type. We usually spent hours together, even when confined to a vehicle. Things were different now. I slid my sweats and hoodie back on over my outfit which was way too sexy for a car fuck. I wasn’t sexually satisfied, but I was happy to see him. Before I left his car, I sighed, staring at his handsome face, cocoa brown skin, glimmering eyes, and devilish grin. He pulled me close to him and gave me a long passionate kiss good-bye.

Already back to my true form, I am off to my next encounter.

How did I wind up beneath Brooklyn in his car that afternoon?

I slept in that morning. It was a Monday.

I had nothing to do.

My work was closed. This was the second Monday that everything was shut down due to the Covid-19 pandemic. Since I am a high school teacher, as requested, I had assigned my students two weeks of work to complete at their own pace. I didn’t know when we would be returning to campus, but I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be soon. It was late March, and the following week would be our Spring Break anyways.

My 8-year-old son, Elijah, had come with me to Memphis for a week to stay and visit with my niece Daisy and her husband. Things were less shut down there than in my hometown of Los Angeles, so we were able to do a lot of outdoor sight-seeing and enjoy weather that wasn’t rainy like it was here in LA the week before.

Elijah had nothing to do either. No school. Sports practices were cancelled. He couldn’t see his friends or his grandparents. We were all confined to our respective homes and immediate families so I couldn’t have a babysitter come over to watch him. Not like I had ever done that anyways. I had Rob at home.

My husband Rob was a homebody who drove buses for the school district and had nothing to do, besides drinking beer with his best friend Chris who lives next door. He enjoyed the comforts of our home I kept over his head since I was in my mid-20s, and rarely ventured out of our four walls aside from work other than to cajole in the garage with Chris.

Rob was my high school sweetheart; we met during my senior year and never parted. Our marriage had become troubled over the years as I had become resentful of Rob’s omnipresent beer drinking and the priority that his habit took in his life over me and our son. I had felt neglected emotionally, sexually and socially, and over the last 9 months I had decided unequivocally that life is meant to be lived. I didn’t want to leave Rob, or hurt him, but I had to see what was out there, see what I had been missing.

One morning the previous June, I downloaded Tinder and within a few hours, I was in a stranger’s bed. A friendly, lonely stranger I never saw again. That sole encounter, however, let me down a winding road of self-discovery through a bevy of casual sexual encounters.

In addition to those hook-ups, I had developed some long-lasting sexual friendships, some quasi-romances (I loved losing my head, but holding on to my heart), and I developed an unbridled joy for the naughtier side of sex.

I had developed an affinity for wild sex parties where I enjoyed multiple partners a night, or at once. I grew to enjoy exhibitionism; I got aroused by the thought of people getting turned on watching me fuck. I loved the idea of someone watching me at the apex of my hedonistic pleasure, and deciding that he must have me, if I were gracious enough to allow it. I loved gasping and writhing, as my breath shallows and blood rushes to my swollen loins over and over again.

I learned that I am a sensualist and had begun to seek out partners, who appreciated and indulged that side of me. I longed to be kissed soft and slow and pounded hard. I craved human touch over every square inch of my body and wanted a partner who let me relish in his. I loved the feel of skin, the smell of clean sweat, the taste of my juices flowing from his mouth to mine.

I considered myself adventurous enough to have a wild fuck in the back of a car if the mood did strike, but also dignified enough to enjoy the spoils of an elegant hotel room. As I was refining my tastes and choices in partners, I wanted to be careful to stay open minded and adventurous, and not close myself off to new experiences. I was looking forward to new experiences despite being shut indoors. Despite the uncertainty that laid before us.

I met Brooklyn in the final leg of last year’s summer vacation. A month prior to meeting him, I had been invited to a Swinger party at a venue called Club Joi by a smooth-talking Spaniard named Alejandro whom I had met on Tinder. It was our first date, Alejandro and I kissed inside the Uber he ordered for us, and we enjoyed each other, and others, at the club all night long. We continued to enjoy each other at sunrise as he took me back to his apartment and we had our grand finale in the stairwell of his complex. I was seduced. Immediately. Not by Alejandro, he turned out to be kind of a douche, but by the lifestyle, the friendliness of the people, and the possibilities.

A month later, due to curiosity, I found myself unescorted at the doorsteps of a fancy Penthouse Hotel in West Hollywood. Brooklyn wasn’t the first person I shared my body with that night, but to my delight, he did hog me most of the night. We instantly became special friends attending parties together, hooking up in hotels, and occasionally in his car. Brooklyn spent my birthday with me two months ago by taking me to a sex dungeon and letting me hog him all night long.

It turns out Brooklyn lived only a few miles from me. He was married and had been involved in the lifestyle for over 2 decades. I was sure his wife either didn’t know or didn’t care. His fun times, enabled by his career as a party DJ, were all put on hold due to Covid. There were no parties to be held in the foreseeable future.

Brooklyn had needs and on this Monday afternoon, those needs demanded to be met in the front seat of his Camry. I told Rob I was running to Costco to get some items and might be out for a while. I was glad to see Brooklyn; I hadn’t seen him since he took me to the Loveshack on Leap Day, where we enjoyed the bodies of others side by side, and engaged in wild, passionate sex together. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see Brooklyn as often as before, and I worried that he and I would be confined to a vehicle for the foreseeable future. Instead, I would need to meet up with other men who were more available to host, either at his home or at a hotel, and for the time being it seemed like most hotels and motels were open.

After finishing with Brooklyn, I had plans with a 27-year-old named Boston who I met on a Lifestyle website called Kasidie. Boston had been on my back burner list for a while. He lived less than 10 minutes away. He had a girlfriend who he enjoyed swinging with, and also playing without. He was a skinny, gangly, shaggy haired, light-skinned Latino who had a huge cock that looked like it didn’t belong on his body. Boston would not have been my first choice, but the men I wanted were unavailable, unwilling, or uninterested. Men I were not excited about were horny as hell and texting me 27/4. Boston was a fair compromise.

I met him at a motel room about a mile from where I was parked with Brooklyn in Canoga Park. Boston already checked into the room. I came in, greeted him, and took off my outer layer of sweats, stripping down to my fishnet catsuit.

Boston kisses me and sucks one of my nipples that peak through the fabric. He lays me down on the bed while I unbuckle his pants. His cock long and hard for me to suck. Instead, he kisses me down my body, and after some light teasing, he dips his tongue inside my pussy.

I wonder if he can taste Brooklyn’s cum, not more than 20 minutes old. I don’t think it would bother Boston, everyone is different, and even though he is relatively young, he is not new to the world of kinky sex parties. In the profile that Boston shares with his live-in girlfriend, it states that they enjoy certain acts of BDSM, clearly exemplified by photos of his girlfriend with pink ass cheeks and arm restraints.

I orgasmed several times with Boston, both through oral and penetration. He was not a smooth, skilled lover like some of the others, and in that respect, he showed his age, but he knew he had a nice cock, as it made him a popular party favor at events. Being young, he had the added bonus of being able to just keep going and going with no problems. Boston enjoyed older women, even into their 50s and 60s, which was strange to me because he seemed much younger than 27. Besides his ample manhood, the rest of his body seemed underdeveloped, and coupled with his aesthetic and the way he dressed, he looked more like a 17-year-old. Not necessarily my cup of tea. Boston was super nerdy and had quite a cool job in engineering.

I wasn’t planning on seeing Boston again, but we both left pleased and exhausted after 3 hours and multiple rounds. Lots of condoms on the ground. I have learned that when a guy spends money on a room, he wants to get his money’s worth.

_______________________________________________________

Brad Lipinski – The New Gigi (and Phil Meet Cute)

He had a massive crush on me in HS. I wasn’t interested. We’re both married now, and getting together for coffee.

I posted this message on Whisper, an app on my phone where people could anonymously share whatever randomness was going on in their minds in an attempt to encourage conversation and interaction with others. Many people used Whisper to score hook-ups, but I enjoyed the opportunity to vent my feelings and discuss goings-on in my life. This type of discussion, of course, could easily lead to a hook up.

I had only been on whisper for six weeks, but I had already had dozens of conversations with people and had met six people in person. The first person I met was an embarrassing four-minute sexual encounter from start to finish. After that, I began to meet up with people for meals and conversation, and if things turned sexual, that was fine, but it wasn’t the intention. I was enjoying dating and meeting new people.

My interactions on Whisper were different from the carefully cultivated persona that I had crafted for myself on Tinder, that of a 33-year-old single mom who was trying her hand at jumping back into the world of casual sex after the dissolution of a long-term relationship. This persona continued for months and months, even as I accrued enough notches on my belt to wrap it around my waist five times. Even though I was being disingenuous about my marital status, I never intended to hurt any of my potential paramours, and I tried to make it clear from the get-go that I was just looking for a good time, and my son was the priority in my life, not a revolving door of dicks. Whisper was different; I was genuinely me, revealing my true self and my thoughts in my posts and conversations. I was 41, I was married, I was cheating, I was promiscuous.

The lines became blurred when I met Erick, the first person I had sex with to whom I admitted from the onset that I was married. In some cases, I still used my Tinder persona, and in other cases I didn’t. It depended on what I posted, and how the conversation was evolving with who responded.

The He in question in this particular Whisper is Brad Lipinksi, a man I remembered from high school as a huge nerd with a crush on me. We had recently rekindled an adult friendship that had become sext-ual, with both of us sharing naughty photos and videos, usually culminating in Brad pleasuring himself late into the night when his sexual urges became unbearable, and then apologizing the next day for going too far, only to fall back into the same pattern.

Brad married straight out of college and that marriage, almost two decades later, had become virtually sexless. Brad and I started talking again only a few short weeks ago, meeting occasionally for frozen yogurt, drives in his Tesla, and a mid-workday lunch at a Mexican restaurant.

Our burgeoning entanglement was punctuated by an unexpected and brief but passionate kiss in his car the day before I left for Memphis with Elijah to visit Daisy. I entertained the notion of fulfilling Brad’s fantasy of being with me, but was careful not to push, since I didn’t want the blood on my hands of a guilt-ridden man who had been tempted to break his marital vows.

I backed way off of Brad and he and I settled into a comfortable friend zone replete with enough sexual tension to break the windows on a jumbo jet. I wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to do it. But we still enjoyed spending time together. When we met for coffee, his eyes would unapologetically veer down my shirt, his hand would conspicuously readjust his bulge, and his knees would brush against mine as he watched my lips take in the cold, sweet liquid through the purple straw. Sometimes we would hold hands, my fingers tousling the hair on the outsides of his fingers, my nipples threatening to break through the delicate floral lace of my pink bra, my nether regions leaving perspiration on the white vegan leather of his two-month-old Tesla.

The irony of the situation was that before I left for Memphis, he was honest about telling his wife he was spending time with me. He had nothing to hide. But now that Covid had become an omnipresence in all our lives, his wife was paranoid about contracting it, so he was concealing the fact that he was spending time with me on this afternoon, even though our lips never even touched.

After I returned from coffee with Brad. I checked my chat responses from my earlier post. About 50 of them were variations of Hi or How about getting some coffee with me? Another 20 were scammers pretending to be men looking for sugar babies (Sure asshole, here’s my account number!!! Yes, I am putting you fuckers on blast…enough of that shit!). There was one response that caught my attention. It said: Be careful. But hope you have a good time catching up.

It seemed a thoughtful, helpful response, that appeared warm-hearted. I was curious where the be careful came from and pleased with the well-wishes.

I responded, Careful??? It’s hard to tell where a conversation is going.

Yeah, could be sexually dangerous.

How so? I inquired.

If you have sex, it could affect your relationships. Duh, I thought.

Or maybe that’s what you want.

Temptation, I said.

It’s dangerous. There was a pause. I know.

I’ve already been down that road, I confessed. But never with a happily married man.

How was your date?

We had coffee, talked in his car, and made plans for our next get together.

You plan on fucking in his car?

It’s a really nice car! I teased. But there are cameras in it, a Tesla.

That’s fuckin hot! An image flashed in my head of Brad and I making out in the front seat of his car while the cameras rolled. I know he must have deleted that footage immediately after I left. Sounds like you enjoyed yourself.

"He’s teasing me now. Quite the role reversal," I admitted.

Were you the tease in the past?

Well, I don’t think I purposefully teased him. But he did have a crush on me. He still does. He’s conflicted.

I was thinking the same thing.

He’s sexually frustrated, I told this random stranger. I don’t want to hurt him, or her.

So, he’s sexually frustrated with his spouse. What’s your issue?

I have no issue.

And your husband doesn’t know?

He doesn’t know anything.

So, you’re just a horny wife?

The horniest. I giggled a little bit when I typed that.

I love it. Another pause. Is the Tesla guy your only side hustle?

Not at all, I replied.

Oh? What’s on your plate?

It’s a buffet baby. I joked.

Lol. You must be a sexy thing…

I am a sexy thing. A sexual thing.

I am sure you are.

A sensual thing, I added.

A wonderful thing.

A naughty woman.

My favorite kind.

Tempting a married man with the fuck of his life, I stated boldly.

That’s a bold statement.

Not that he has a lot of experience. I qualified my previous boldness.

He’s gonna nut so fast.

I am sure that is a major part of his worry, to be perfectly honest.

You need space and time.

A car fuck would be a disaster, I admitted.

Yes, it would. You’d be like teenagers.

Ugh…I hate that.

Sounds like he is into you. So he will work for it.

Maybe, I responded. But I am not sure that he will go through with it, or if I even want to anymore. I wanted to steer the conversation a different direction. So, what’s your story? A line I borrowed from my best friend Gigi.

I’m married. 9 years.

Frustrated?

My drive is more than hers definitely, so I find alternatives.

I had suspected that I was talking to a married man who had gone astray. Now this was confirmed.

Does she know, or no?

She knows I’ve cheated in the past, he revealed. I’ve only hooked up with one person, but I’ve had online dealings.

Sensing that his man was hypersexual and had already experienced lust outside of the laws of God, I became curious. What are you into sexually? I knew he wasn’t into a quickie car fuck, and that was instantly appealing. You seem to know what you want, I shot from the hip.

I like a range of things Like me, I thought. Sometimes I go slow, kissing, teasing, licking with lots of foreplay where you are itching to release. This man was speaking my language. Then there’s the hot sex that is deemed taboo. Like a good fuck on your lunch break. Hot and deliberate. Wow! I was starting to tingle with excitement at the thought of being with this man.

Lunch break fuck has been my thing lately. I was thinking back to before Covid began, when I had a two-and-a-half-hour lunch break, from September to March that I would often use for lunch dates and hook-ups, only to return to my classroom with a rosy, post-orgasmic glow.

Where do you live? he asked me.

Granada Hills, I lied.

Shut up! he said. I live in Northridge.

I live in Northridge too…lol, I admitted.

Lol…maybe we should keep our options open.

Let’s be friends, I proffered.

I’m Phil.

I’m Lexi.

Nice to meet you Lexi.

I’m 41, but I pretend to be 33, It was a tad cathartic to admit all this to a stranger, but I was going with my instincts…for better or worse.

I’m 40, Phil said.

So, 7 years older than me, I teased.

"Do you use Snapchat? he asked.

Yes.

We exchanged handles. 

I went to sleep.

__________________________________________________

Wayne – Just What the Doctor Ordered

I was going crazy. I needed a release.

I was being teased to death by both Brad and Phil.

Brad would come hang out with me, join me for a walk or hike. We would talk, nothing would happen. We would go to our respective homes and sext all night long…when I wasn’t talking to Phil. As soon as he and I switched to Snapchat, our connection became real. Imminent.

Phil and I shared photos. He was a handsome man with thick dark hair, bearded with a devilish grin, masculine, intense passionate brown eyes, and a build he was trying to get back into a shape he could be comfortable with. He would often send me photos of his stiff thick cock threatening to bust right through the screen, or videos of him stroking it, videos that begged for me to hop on it and take him for a wild ride.

I showed him plenty of photos of me. My face, my body, me sucking cock, me taking a dick from behind. He loved it, and it made him jealous and hot. He wished it were him. I did too.

I was pretty open with him about my origin story, and how I had spent 9 months finding myself sexually after being sexually sheltered by my husband for over two decades, and now exploring, enjoying. He wasn’t turned off by it, although I didn’t tell him everything. Just hints, glimpses. He wanted a part of it.

He shared some stories with me about some previous marital indiscretions. A young, shy college student he slept with once. An emotional affair with a woman online. A wild night at work, when alone after a shift two women wound up sucking his cock. A woman, he had a torrid affair with that he claimed was purely sexual, until she moved away. I was fascinated by how clearly he was able to categorize his entanglements. This one was emotional, this one was physical, this one was a curiosity.

He told me about his wife. They had gone through a rough patch 5 years back. He loves her, has sex with her occasionally, but he describes it as vanilla. She doesn’t have an active sex drive, nor a thirst for adventure, and she is preoccupied with her work and doesn’t give him the attention or thrill he craves. She loves him, but keeps a tight leash around him as trust was eroded when she caught him having an emotional affair with a woman he never had the pleasure of touching. He did not want to get caught. He did not want to make any mistakes. I made it clear that I did not want that to happen either.

A turning point happened one night when he sent me a video of him eating ice cream. Some sort of chocolate covered delight on a stick. I watched him lick the creamy vanilla ice cream, its essence melting on his tongue. The image set my body on fire. He told me he wished that ice cream was me, and that I could be the one melting on my tongue. We were both infidels, with appetites that couldn’t be contained. I was hot for him beyond belief. I hadn’t felt a desire so intense for someone since Luis last summer.

We were going to meet. It was a matter of time. But when? And where? We both knew from the start that neither of us would be satisfied with a quick car hook up. He did not offer one. He said that what we were building was meant for more than that. I was excited to see what we were building. I thought how nice it would be to have a lover a half a mile away from me (he now knew where I lived, and I knew where he lived) who I could have a lunch time romp with. If only…If only we had met a few months earlier, things would have been so different.

Now, my husband and I were both working at home, our child home with us. All day, every day. No school, no sports, no playdates with friends, no grandma’s house. Phil and his wife were both working from home; his job was easy, but she complained of the constant stress from hers. She was in the same field as me; I suspected she was the type of person who would be stressed out in any situation. I was not. I had been a stressed-out over-worker for many years, and when Elijah was born, I decided I would not take that stress home with me. And now that I had chosen to ‘live my life’ my way, I would not allow work stress to invade my personal life. Phil and his wife had no children.

There were not a lot of ‘reasons’ to leave the house. Groceries. A walk, a run, a hike. My exercise studios and gyms were all closed, so I had taken to walking and hiking for exercise and would use my pool once the weather heated up. I had fantasized about going hiking with Phil and finally feeling the sensation of his full, longing lips as sweat dripped down our bodies and our legs tensed from physical exertion.

Phil had taken up jogging in the evenings, and sometimes his wife would join. In no way did I desire to be the wife of a man with a perpetually wandering eye, but I was envious that even with nothing to do, they still did things together. Rob and I just watched the news and argued about Elijah not doing his schoolwork.

Everyone was drinking more during this lockdown, and Rob was no exception. Everyone was stuck at home. I was burning with desire, with no release. I turned back to Kasidie.

Kasidie is a Lifestyle website I joined in the fall aimed at swingers, offering them connections with other swingers, invitations to events, and community discussions about like-minded topics. I had enjoyed over the last 6 months meeting up with men from Kasidie because they made a big deal about sex. They liked to talk over cocktails, they liked to flirt, they wanted to get a room. This wasn’t the quick car-fuck type of people. Sex was an occasion, elevated to an artform. I had met up with several of them since joining the site, and I have typically enjoyed myself.

Wayne had been messaging me, back before Covid. He lived 10 minutes from me and he told me that he had been confined at home since Covid began, so I did not worry about him being an infection risk. He lived in a house he owned, alone, and that was the clincher for me. I was horny as hell, pent up with sexual frustration and it was Wayne’s turn.

I told Rob I was going out to get some exercise, and I drove to Wayne’s house which provided me with a relaxing, sensual delight. He had piano jazz music playing, candles lit, low lights, and a soft bed that he directed me to after perfunctorily showing me around his cozy house.

Wayne is an average man in every way. Average looking, average build, average cock, but tonight I wanted to be pleased, not teased, and that is exactly what I got.

To my delight, Wayne is markedly passionate, touchy and sensual in the way that I have come to like. We have intercourse in the basic three positions, in the basic order. First, him on top of me to foster intimacy, then we switch to cowgirl so I can cum, and then switch to doggy so he can. Pretty vanilla for a lifestyle guy, but his touch makes it more enjoyable for me.

We sit and talk. It turns out he is a lifelong LA boy. He was raised and schooled on the West side then lived in the valley most of his adult life. He is also an educator, like me, so we shared stories about what it was like to be thrown into distance learning and having to adjust to it in an instant.

We engage in a second round of sex, exactly like the first one. Nothing new, nothing different, same positions, same order. It feels good, and it is just what I needed that night to take the edge off and provide a distraction, but not enough to garner Wayne a future date.

_______________________________________________________

Vitamin Deagan

I had just started my period, but I was bored, so instead of working on editing the rough draft of the manuscript that I finished writing in January, I picked up my phone and opened up Tinder. I had matched with a sexy man who I was dying to get together with. I was ok with the idea of meeting up with someone for a conversation and maybe some kissing, and then building up anticipation for a 2nd date that would culminate in a session of wild, passionate sex when my juices were running clear. What I was not ok with was a one-sided encounter that left him sexually satisfied and me feeling used. I had been down that road a few times, and I had learned my lesson.

This lovely man was Deagan, who is half-black and Norwegian. We agreed to meet up at Northridge Park on a delightfully sunny early spring day. He is handsome and tall, very light-skinned, and I liked his dimply smile and his energy right away. I was tingling as we strolled through the park talking. It was quiet on this Thursday just before noon.

We walked until we came to a picnic table and sat down on the bench still exchanging casual conversation about the weather, how covid has affected our day to day lives so far, and how great the traffic has been this week and last. He told me of his recent travels to Europe.

I noticed that Deagan had a small black and red tattoo on his inner biceps. I traced it with my finger. He seemed ok with it, so I went in for the kiss. And then we were kissing, side to side on the bench with the sun almost straight up, beating down on our backs.

It was an incredible feeling. His arms wrapped around me, caressing my back and occasionally making their way down my body to give my butt a squeeze. My hands would rub the back of his neck at the bottom of his hairline, rub his muscular biceps and strong soft torso. His lips were soft and full, his tongue, warm and sweet, exploring my mouth.

I couldn’t stop tingling. Kissing him, enjoying his upper body. I held back a little bit, not wanting to let myself go to territory that I couldn’t gracefully get out of. I did not straddle him or press my body against him so I could feel his throbbing cock aching for me.

I did not want to tell Deagan I was on my period. That wasn’t important; I wasn’t going to have sex with him today, and I wasn’t going to blow him. I wanted him badly, and I wanted him to want more. I also wanted to enjoy how I was feeling right now, in this moment. Pure bliss with the sunshine, Deagan’s amazing body, and the unceasing tingling that took over my being.

Deagan and I made out for about 45 minutes. That may have been the longest I have ever done so without proceeding to second base. Kissing him kind of reminded me of kissing Aiden, on the beach in Venice last summer, the same kind of visceral, almost out-of-body reaction. Except, unlike with Aiden, where the whole world seemed to disappear and it felt like it was just the two of us, with Deagan, the whole world did NOT disappear.

In fact, I was hyper aware of the few people around us. Maybe it was because we were in public very close to my home. Maybe because it was Covid and we weren’t supposed to have our mouths on each other.

Unfortunately, I never saw Deagan again. We texted after our meetup, and tentatively planned a day to get together. Things didn’t seem to happen nowadays as quickly as they used to. Covid made things tricky, and I didn’t know enough about his living situation to question why he just couldn’t have me over. My reason was always that I was a single mom and grandpa was watching my child for a few moments so I could go out and get groceries, so that explained why I couldn’t have company. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Deagan was taken.

On the day of our get together he cancelled saying he wasn’t feeling well. He had already given me the address of where to go. We attempted to reschedule several times, saying how badly he wanted to finish what we started. In May, Deagan had moved to Colorado. Some things just don’t work out. But at least on that gorgeous day, I got a healthy dose of Vitamin D.

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Seven (VII)

I was looking for someone new to play with who was nearby and could host during the day when it made sense for me to be out, either with an alibi of going for a hike or walk, or going to the market or target. Malls were closed. I couldn’t say I was visiting a friend. And if my hikes extended too late in the day when it got dark, Rob would worry about me, or maybe not believe me, and I didn’t want trouble. I just wanted fun.

I met VII on Kasidie, the male half of a couples profile. He contacted me and asked me if I would be willing to come to his apartment in Canoga Park. He told me that he and his girlfriend were open and both had permission to play separately, but made it quietly clear that he was restricted to certain hours and days that he could host. VII is black, and a musician, artist, and dancer (all around creative type) who called me a Goddess and promised to be my sexual servant.

I couldn’t say no to that.

Our encounter starts slowly with a therapeutic foot rub on the side of his bed while we talk and get to know one another, his voice quiet and soothing. I am surprised to learn that he is a ballet dancer. The foot rub transitions into an indulgent, nude, full-body coconut oil massage that culminates in a lengthy and pleasurable cunnilingus session.

When we start having sex, he holds my body close to his and maintains eye contact, his eyes ebony and sensitive. After he cums, he immediately starts going down on me. I assume this is his recovery period and he wants another round.

I am in ecstasy with VII, and I gleefully indulge in him another round. It is a much longer round, and halfway into it, he inserts a butt plug into me as he enjoys my pussy gently from behind. And then more assertively. I assume he was priming me for anal, his cock is larger and longer than average. But we never do anal…I don’t think.

Instead after that round, he invites me to take a shower, lathering me up with what I assume is his girlfriend’s expensive body cleanser. Everything with VII is slow and sensual. We towel off and dress and sit back down on his bed and talk.

Honesty, Lexi, I didn’t think you were gonna make it through that second round. I give you props, he says, rubbing my shoulders and playing with the sleeve of my shirt.

It was a lot of fun, I tell him. Honestly, Seven, I could go for another one.

Really? he says, his face expressing wild disbelief. I nod, and then a few moments pass and our clothes are on the floor and his head is back between my legs.

This time he pulls out a dildo and is penetrating me with it while he is circling and sucking my clit. I cum hard for him. This feels different then someone handing me a vibrator during sex and asking me to use it as I please. He is using his arm motion to fuck me with a toy while his tongue pleases me. It was quite a lovely sensation. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if an actual cock was inside me, while someone else’s tongue was on me.

Then, VII drops the toy, and works himself inside me once again, his thrusts becoming more assertive and intentional. His lips kissing mine, his body pressed against me. At that moment, a huge coffee table book falls off of a high bookshelf, and slams him in the back of the head. This doesn’t stop his thrusting, and soon he cums for the third time. It was a very orgasmic afternoon; I was there from about noon to three, and I felt almost like I was high for the rest of the day.

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CJ – Encore Performance

CJ was a ‘Servile Dom". He videotaped a wild, costumed encounter between the two of us back in January, and subsequently lost or deleted an important chunk of the footage before I could save it, and the situation became a bone of contention between us. I was angry that the visual manifestation of such a pleasurable encounter was gone. I wasn’t sure whether he deleted it (or claimed to delete it) to exert his dominance over me, or if he just made a boneheaded fuck up as we all do sometimes when dealing with technology.

I saw the video once before it was deleted, so I know it existed. It’s hard for me to believe that he would have gone through all the hard work of sifting through hours of film and then editing it just to delete it out of spite. His ego wouldn’t let him do that. I didn’t know what to believe. He frustrated me, but I really liked our conversations we’ve had.

CJ was HOT. Over six feet tall, and muscular, light-skinned black, near 50, with olive green eyes which scorched right through women’s clothing. The sprinkling of grey in his beard and pubic stubble, slightly revealed his age, but only made him hotter. CJ was a self-described bull, and owned living that lifestyle.

Our friendship persisted, but virtually. He would send me photos of himself, short clips of porn videos he liked, and memes and other odd things from the internet. I did the same for him. I would send him seductive snapshots of me, and he loved when I would send him photos and videos of me in the act. He said he loved watching me give and receive pleasure.

I learned what kinds of photos he liked too. He was an ‘ass man’, and whenever I came across footage of myself that showcased those ‘assets’, I would forward them to him first. Well second, after Brad, who preferred videos where he could see my face, especially the one from January with CJ’s cum running down it on to my neck and chest.

CJ and I weren’t supposed to get together again. I hadn’t completed his ‘homework assignment’ of finding a woman for us to have a threesome with. I wasn’t interested in doing that with him, and I thought his homework assignments were ridiculous. I hadn’t fulfilled my duties as his submissive. But he was horny, and I am sure he didn’t have as much going on sexually in these lean times as he had been accustomed to prior to quarantine. He liked the way sex with me felt, so he acquiesced. He asked me if he could come over. That was out of the question. He said he was planning a Saturday night ‘drive’ and I should wear a short skirt.

I sent him a photo of me from the back in the bathroom mirror. I really snapped the photo to see if my hair had been growing because I haven’t trimmed it since the fall when it was pink, and since Covid began all haircutting places are closed. But when I saw the photo, my ass sticking out and my head dropped back to make my long, brown hair look longer, I knew CJ would like it. Yup, your ass still makes me hard. Now I have to hide in the bathroom at work for a minute.

I got hot at the thought of him pressing me up against a wall in a public bathroom and having his way with me. It made me hungry with lust for him.

‘Do you have a princess plug?" CJ asked me.

No, I don’t, I responded.

How do you usually prepare for anal?

Prepare? I laughed to myself. Lube, patience, and a prayer.

Hahaha…Do you enjoy it?

I usually do.

I’ll be gentle.

You‘ll be amazing, I told him. I trust you. I wasn’t so sure.

Are you able to make it to Fairfax tonight?

Just in time for Shabbat? Sure.

Ok, I’ll tell you when and where to meet in a little while.

You have a place? Or are we still doing vehicular woman-slaughter? I was joking, but terrified to do anal with him in a car.

Let’s do Sunday instead,