My wife asked how many partners I’d had. Here’s my answer… [MF, MFF]

(Disclaimer: I hope this is the right place. Not ‘gone wild’ exactly, not to the extent of so many others on here, but I’ve peppered a few details in here and there, where it seemed worth sharing… but really this is here because after so many years together, my wife asked me the question, and I thought I might share the answer).

0 – Denise

She made a generous offer, that I could sleep in her room the night of the winter ball. We both had a lot to drink, and I remember how amazing her dress looked as it clung to her curves. To this day, the thought of the neckline, what it showed, what little it didn’t, is enough to cloud my mind.

We were friends, nothing more, but when she asked me to help her unzip her dress suddenly there was electricity in the air, and I took my time, brushing her hair aside, running my fingers over her shoulders… Something changed, and when the zip slowly moved down her back, I thrilled at the realisation she had no bra on underneath. As it slid to the ground, I felt light-headed – she was there before me, arm over her breasts, wearing nothing but brief panties, high heels and a pair of tan stockings. (For all those girls who came after, and who wondered where my stockings fetish came from, this is where).

Seconds later we were kissing, and seemingly only a few seconds after that we were in her bed, my own clothes strewn around her room as our hands and mouths roamed almost everywhere. She had been a good girl, by choice, until that night. My own chasteness was less choice and more forced upon me… But that night we learned a lot, even if we kept on our underwear, at her insistence. I was happy with the restriction – and she kept the stockings on, so…

It didn’t become anything more that night, but on three other occasions between then and the summer we ended up in the same position, more or less, and by the last time we didn’t keep anything on, her mouth closed around me, my tongue buried in her – a ‘goodbye, enjoy the summer’ that I certainly didn’t get from any of our other coursemates!

1 – Jane

Emboldened by my experiences, I may have pushed my luck here, flirting with a friend’s younger sister at her birthday party, but she responded – and he didn’t object, because he trusted me. Later, I felt a little guilty about that, but we were both adults, and everything that happened, well…

Perhaps the red hair should have warned me, for this was a fiery relationship from day one – burning brightly, burning – I would come to realise – at both ends. But I was young, and in love, and I think she was too, and although at first I was tentative, out of respect, she took each forward step in her stride until one night there was nothing left to stop us, and she took matters into her own hand and guided me home.

For a month I walked on air, unable to believe my luck. She was a wild one, quite willing to go down on me within feet of a busy high street, and equally pull up her skirt and have me go down on her once I’d come for her.

I doubt I’ll ever forget a train ride we took where an empty carriage and five minutes between stops became a quickfire fuck up against the window, her clothing quickly re-arranged to allow access to everything – and to show everything to anyone who happened to look at the train as it went past… such as the people in the train going in the opposite direction that we rolled past. Were we going so fast that we were a blur to them? Did anyone get enough of an eyeful to realise what was going on before them? I couldn’t say, nor can I honestly say I care. What I do know is that we pulled into the station before we could finish, so we quickly rearranged ourselves. But when hardly anyone got on our carriage, and no-one came to our end, she leant over me and sucked my cock, all while stroking her clit, and when I exploded into her mouth she gulped down every drop, before locking eyes with me as she came, my cock still in her mouth.

But then there was a fight, and a souring of relations, and suddenly there was someone else before my head had even stopped reeling. When, how, where?

But it didn’t matter, really. Cast from heaven, I made mistakes and bad choices, but in time I came to own that part of my life; I am who I am because of everything that happened to me, good and bad, and the bad that happened in that time made me all the more determined to stay good in future.

5 – Sam

What could have been… But it was too soon, much too soon.

2, 3 – Joanne, Sophie

A year or so had passed, and I was calmer, older, more worldly. Still an immature idiot, of course, but it was a year that saw me mature a lot, from a very low starting point. That it culminated in a threesome with Jane’s best friend (Joanne) and Joanne’s other best friend (Sophie) was… unexpected. But they flirted, and I flirted back, and when Jane went off in a huff – she was the possessive sort, even when I wasn’t hers to possess any more – that all but sealed the deal.

The politics of negotiating a threesome were so far beyond me they may as well have been ancient Greek, but fortunately Joanne had experience and took charge. I had one condom, and she would be unable to enjoy me later in the week, so she got me there and then. As for Sophie, she laid back, enjoyed the show, put on one of her own, and when we switched positions, she welcomed her friend’s hands and lips between her legs – a first for them together, they would tell me later, but both of them were bisexual, and the opportunity had just never arisen.

Well, I can assure you that this was so far beyond anything I had experienced before that I doubt I did the situation justice. Yes, I lasted fairly well by some miracle, but my mind was totally blown by what was happening in front of me, and the noises that both were making. We were lucky that our accommodation was relatively private, but even so surely others on the trip heard us.

Still, nothing was said.

When I did eventually come, I experienced the rare sensation of staying hard, so arousing was the whole experience. Summoned to the other end of the bed, I was welcomed with an open mouth as Sophie made an effort to clean me up. Soon she was joined by a second willing cleaner, and I almost came again at the sight of the pair of them working on me, kissing one another as their tongues drove me to the point of orgasm. I scarcely knew how I pulled away, but I knew I wanted the moment to last a little longer, and soon the three of us were sliding over one another, exploring everything before us, even daisychaining briefly… but soon enough they were working on me again, and I could hardly complain, and when I came again it splashed over their faces and bare chests, so I forever have the memory of them licking and kissing one another clean to look back on.

Later that week my flirting with Sophie passed the point of no return, and she all-but-dragged me to a secluded spot of woodland where we managed to fuck with a lot of energy considering the heat of that summer, and the few clothes we dared take off, considering how close we were to the path. We’d stay in touch after that week, and would hook up again a year or so later, which lacked the intensity of this week, but nevertheless allowed us to explore what we’d learned in the time in between.

4 – Caroline

I walked back that way later that day, a pre-bedtime stroll with another girl with whom I’d been flirting all week, but getting nothing but smartarse responses – not discouraging, but not showing any sign of being tempted, either. Still, she was happy enough to walk out with me, and when we passed the sheltered spot some impulse made me lead her into it.

A clear, moonlit night, still warm but not oppressively so, perhaps even the faint smell of sex still hanging in the air… Perhaps even my own charm contributed to the tumbling down of her defences as she welcomed my advances for the first time, no, more than welcomed them – demanded them, and I was happy to oblige as we kissed with a fierce passion. What I’d had earlier in the week with Joanne and Sophie had been almost dreamlike, as though I were along for the ride but never quite believing it. This, this was real, this was me venting a year of pent-up passion into someone new – and her responding.

The seduction was slower and more intimate than my afternoon tumble in the same spot. Alone in the gloom, there was a sense of total privacy as we undressed slowly. Her body was toned, even muscular, and a wonder to explore with seemingly all the time in the world as I made her writhe, until eventually she wrapped her legs around my head and stifled her moans with her hand.

I thought for sure that would be it; I knew Caroline was a virgin with limited experience, but the hunger in her eyes and sureness of her words made it clear that she wasn’t done, and as she climbed onto me, and lowered herself down, her happy sigh on settling in place was almost enough to push me over the edge.

Later, she would tell me she’d decided on that week – a youth group trip with attendees from all over the country – as the week she’d lose her virginity. She didn’t want to go to university without any experience, she wanted one perfect experience before she threw herself into student life. I was honoured she chose me, and glad I managed to make it everything she wanted.

*

A year or so later, having taken a break from her boyfriend in bitter fashion, Caroline and I had a ‘lost weekend’ where she travelled to stay with me. I had phrased the invite in as platonic a manner as possible, even though I still thought of her often, but as soon as the door closed behind us we virtually attacked one another, and in minutes I’d come in her hands, a little embarrassingly, but she seemed delighted to have been the aggressor. Within minutes I’d returned the favour, setting off 48 hours of almost non-stop sex and passion. Perhaps my favourite moment came the following day, on the way to meet some friends, when she dragged me down an alleyway, pulled down her top, and jerked me off over her breasts. Knowing that she was covered in my cum all night, feeling her rub against me on the dancefloor, sliding my hands under her skirt…

It was an amazing weekend, and still a time I think about often. Had things worked out different, I think Caroline and I could have had something special, but we had the time we had, and I treasure it.

5 – Sam

Weeks after my first time with Caroline there was a birthday card in the post for me, but not for my birthday. Inside was a phone number, and two words: ‘Happy now?’

I’m not sure if it was better or worse that her parents were old hippies. They had a lenient approach to parenting that bordered on disinterest in some ways, but for all that their kids seemed well-adjusted enough in my experience, and their youngest daughter was the girl-next-door come to life; Fifteen years later, any time I catch sight of Jennifer Lawrence I’m reminded of her – but Sam was more beautiful. I was gobsmacked when I first saw her, unable to believe that she’s show any interest in someone as ordinary as me. That she kept me in her mind for nearly a year and sought me out when she was no longer ‘too young’ astonished me.

I was in no mood to rush things, even after a year in which I’d had cause to kick myself more than once, but a few months later the decision was pretty much taken out of my hands. Her siblings were away at university, her parents were away for the weekend, and we’d had a perfect day together. That it ended up in her room was no surprise, her bed only a little more so… Everything that came after seemed as natural as the sunrise.

For six months we were inseparable, but she had stresses and dramas aside from us, and over time it took its toll. The age gap wasn’t as much of an issue as I’d feared… but it still spelt the end for us. What could I say – Grow up? You’ll forget all this in six months, twelve at the outside? She was young, but I was scarcely that much older, really.

I didn’t know how to handle her. In fact, I doubt she knew what would have been the right thing to do. We agreed to a break, but we both knew it was finished.

Looking back, and realising how much time has passed, makes me realise how much younger I was back then. My wife is much the same age as Sam, but the difference between them shows how much difference a year or two makes at that age, both for them, and for me.

6 – April

I don’t overlap when dating, but this was close. I made friends with her independent of Sam, and confided in her many of my woes. She made it clear that she was happy to be a shoulder to cry on, all the better if we were both naked, in bed, and screwing at the time.

I don’t know what a ‘decent’ period of time to wait after a breakup is before hopping into bed with your next partner. In my case, after two weeks of silence between myself and Sam, I welcomed the interest of my new friend wholeheartedly.

She was the most open-minded of all of my lovers, which doesn’t really come close to covering it. She had, so far as I can tell, no taboos; Pain, humiliation, domination, submissiveness, exhibitionism – as far as I can tell, she loved them all to some degrees. She pushed me to my limits, and beyond in some cases. It was an instructive few months, and where she learned it all – and however many other lovers she may have had, even at the same time as me – was something I decided I didn’t care to know.

There wasn’t much in the way of romance, and no pretence on either side of finer feelings, but just purely fucking as a relief and a release from everything else. Did I learn anything much new about myself? Perhaps mainly that I would indulge my partners in pretty much any way they pleased, but ultimately my own tastes were pretty vanilla. I drew the line at certain things outright, but she had some interesting fantasies she wanted to explore, and generally I managed to help her bring most of them to life in some way. Did she fulfill any of mine? Yes – many times.

My first time having sex in public, for example, sliding into her as she leant over a balcony in a nightclub was perhaps the most memorable. Thrusting into her to the beat of the music was intoxicating, even more so in the knowledge that people were walking past, no doubt aware of what we were doing, some even watching.

She upped the ante a little later when we had a date in London one afternoon. She teased me much of the afternoon by hinting at all the things she had planned, but as the sun began to set she slid close to me on the bench we were sitting on and began to rub me through my trousers. I worried, momentarily, if anyone would see us but I needn’t have worried. Once I was hard, she quickly pulled down my zip and swung one leg over me so she was straddling me. As she lowered herself down, I realised the significance of the long, floaty skirt she was wearing; It covered everything, making us look no more than a little overly affectionate as she slowly rocked us both to an orgasm on the south bank of the Thames, surrounded by hundreds of people.

Whatever limits she may have had, I don’t think I found many of them, if any. She wouldn’t have sex with me on the grounds of her college, but only because she was on her last warning there. Pretty much anything else was open territory, and she opened my eyes to a whole wide world of fetishes that I’d never have been aware of but for her. Not all of them appealed, it must be said, but a few piqued my interest, and she was willing to accommodate my own exploration alongside her own. Still, I wondered how some of the more hardcore followers of certain kinks manage in their day to day lives; Having to wear long sleeves for a week during a hot summer was awkward, to say the least, and that was just one uncomfortable experience. Worth trying, no question, but for the most part they were one-off visits.

As I prepared to head back to university, our affair came to an end as she wanted someone who’d be around whenever and wherever; But we agreed that, as I wasn’t going to be too far away, we’d stay in touch… and stay touching…

7 – Leanne

She was a lesson in learning to look beyond the obvious. A brassy, voluptuous brunette who knew what she wanted, and that she wanted it from anyone she could get it from. On my first night back at university, this seemed ideal, even if later I wished dearly I’d looked around me a little more before being consumed (not quite literally) by her magnificent cleavage and long, long legs.

She was hungry, and not so bothered about what her partners wanted. So long as she got hers, all well and good. I took that as a challenge, keeping her on edge for as long as I could. I enjoyed it, and she did as well… But I was an alternative, a booty call when more forceful lovers weren’t available. But then, her attitude rubbed me the wrong way, even if the combination of pale skin, jet black hair and dangerous curves very definitely rubbed me the right way.

I’ve come across the term ‘hatefuck’ a few times. That wasn’t me and Leanne exactly, but where April and I at least had one another’s pleasure in mind, Leanne only cared about herself and her orgasms. Whether or not I got off wasn’t her concern, and with her I learned to take what I could, or else be kicked out of her room with blue balls. Ultimately, I didn’t care for the disdain she inspired in me towards the end, as I became every bit as bad as her. If she called me, I’d show up, but I’d do so on my own terms, making sure I got mine before giving her hers – something that almost became a game of cat and mouse over time, as she tried to get off before I did.

It wasn’t sex-for-pleasure, it was a power game, and so far outside of how I normally viewed sex that I began to hate myself for going along with it… but at the same time, I loved holding her in the palm of my hand, knowing exactly how far away she was from cumming, and how I could push her over or hold her back whenever I wanted. What had started as a game on my part almost became spiteful; It was almost addictive, and at a time where other aspects of my life were beyond my control, being in charge of a woman who wanted to be in charge of me was intoxicating. So long as she kept calling, I put off ending things with her for longer than I probably ought to have done, but eventually I stopped things, realising that I wasn’t helping myself, even as I tried to quiet the part of my mind that demanded one more time with a woman whose body could have stirred statues.

8 – Rachel A

She was a firecracker, and in need of something to raise her spirits after she split from her long-term boyfriend. She got the best I could give her, but after a few weeks he wanted her back, and she wanted it to, so that was that.

What we had was fleeting, and we didn’t do much more than confirm we were good together, but we did have a Sunday where – remarkably – neither of us had work due in the next day. With such blessed freedom before us, we didn’t stir from bed all day other than for her to dig a different set of slinky lingerie out of her stash, and see how long it took me to respond.

I was young. She was beautiful. We were new. She seemed to have a free pass to Victoria’s Secrets. It’s her who holds the record for bringing me to orgasm the most times; On that day, one way or another, she brought me off seven times. I look back now and wonder that I ever had the stamina.

9 – Rachel B

Did I have a reputation? My friends certainly seemed to think so, and after a week when myself and Rachel A ended, and I met with Joanne, Leanne and April, their teasing piqued Rachel B’s curiosity. What followed was… there. Sometimes there’s great chemistry, sometimes there’s none at all. With Rachel B, despite our best efforts, there may actually have been negative chemistry. It was… fun; I don’t think I’ve ever had bad sex, but we ended up laughing so much that really this is included as much for completeness as anything. We became good friends, flirted terribly, but it never crossed our minds to try anything again.

10 – Alicia

You know those people who’re popular with everyone? Alicia was one of those. Her and I made friends during our first week back at university and had chatted about sex and love without either of us especially feeling any spark of attraction…

…but sometimes you need someone. It had dawned on me, gradually, that I’d made the foolish error of falling hard for someone who was off limits – a friend’s girlfriend, who’d been there the night that I met Leanne, but I’d not seen past the obvious. The growing frustration and disappointment was matched by Alicia, who was looking for love and hadn’t found it, and as there was nothing better to do…

…which sounds terrible, as I write it. It’s fairer to say that we felt we could be better together, that we might as well be miserable together that – honestly – we both enjoyed sex and could have some fun together. And we did. After all, if you can’t be with the one you love…

But there wasn’t a spark, and I think we tried to force it, jumping almost straightaway to the sort of experimentation that couples try when they’re starting to lose the spark. Bondage, exhibitionism (well, technically, screwing in the bushes outside the student union bar after a Friday night with friends)… It was a bit like being with April again, except we weren’t exploring our limits so much as the limits of our interest.

But it wasn’t without reward; One evening, with Alicia tied up and squirming, I remembered that April loved to be the dominant one. I knew Alicia was bisexual, I knew April was openminded… So I introduced them, and they hit it off. I was quickly surplus to requirements! Sitting there in the union bar with them, feeling like a third wheel within about ten minutes of introducing them to one another, I realised I’d cuckolded myself – and left myself somewhat unable to enjoy the thought of two hot girls getting it on, which clearly was going to happen imminently.

(Although, in fairness, the two A’s did show me their appreciation one night some time later, an evening which required no invention on anyone’s part. Instead the three of us just enjoyed the flow, possibly helped by both girls being fairly high as part of it…)

11 – Zoe

When did I give myself away? Somewhere along the way, a mutual friend realised how I felt about Zoe. Not Leanne, nor either Rachel, nor April, Alicia or Joanne had been able to push her from my mind. She’d been there, my first night back at university. While I fell headfirst into Leanne’s cleavage, my coursemate was making the smart play by charming Zoe.

One drunken night I admitted how I felt to her boyfriend when he confronted me, a decision I regretted the next day. Had I insisted I’d never do anything to try and steal her? I was sure I had. Had I told him I’d not intended to fall for his girlfriend? I must have done… Right?

It made for an uncomfortable few days. I skipped lectures, I stayed away from places my friends would be, and when we crossed paths at the library, I turned and walked in the other direction. It was stupid – there were months left of my course, so I couldn’t avoid them indefinitely, but there we are, I had no idea what else I could do.

After a week, everything came to a head when Zoe’s boyfriend showed up at my door. My friends were worried about me and he demanded to know, with me sober, how I felt about Zoe.

“I love her,” I admitted, before my brain could engage properly. But as I said it, I knew it was true. I’d loved twice, maybe three times – and I was certain that I felt more strongly about Zoe as I had anyone else. “I’m sorry,” I went on. “I didn’t mean to-”

He shut me up with a wave of his hand.

“She likes you, and I like her… But I don’t love her, so I’m not going to be a dick. Be good to her, right? She knows about you, and she hates you being like this.”

A far better man than I turned and walked out the door, leaving me staring into nothingness for a long time, wondering what I had done to deserve such fortune.

I returned to classes, kept my head down, caught up on the work I’d missed. I sat on the fringes of my friends’ group, grateful that they didn’t make a big deal of my absence, or the reason for it.

Eventually, after a few days, I got together the courage to call Zoe.

“I wondered when I’d hear from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Are we going to do this, then?”

“If you, I mean, if it’s okay with you.” Had she laughed at me there and then, hung up, and never spoken to me again, I wouldn’t have blamed her. I’d kept up a front of normality and bravado until my confession. Since then, my ability to interact on a normal level with those around me had regressed to about that of a shy infant.

“It is. Let’s go out on Friday night…”

It took a while for me to get past my hangup here. I’d essentially stolen my friend’s girlfriend, prised her away through a non-deliberate guilt trip, and exposed my emotions for everyone to see. Trying to live up to that, trying to make some kind of sense of that, would be difficult for the most sensible and mature of people, and I’ve never made any claim to either of those.

But, among her many blessings, she was a sensitive and patient woman, and she liked me, and was willing to give me time to win her over from friend to lover. Over time I grew less tense, more like myself, and after several weeks things were almost normal, so much so that our increasingly heated makeout sessions – which had started in almost chaste fashion, even when I got it into my head at last that it was okay to kiss her and touch her – suddenly leapt forward into wonderful, energetic, foot-to-the-floor sex. Chemistry? Well, I’d always suspected, but we definitely had it, and we found our rhythm with no trouble at all.

In fact, so well did we click that our relationship survived – with scarcely a wobble – the usual separation anxiety when I left university that summer, and she had to go back to finish her course.

And it kept on rolling, kept getting stronger, and then when she finished her course I had a place of my own, and it was only natural that she move in, and then later that we get engaged, and later still that we get married…

And there endeth the tale. My wife asked me recently, out of the blue, how many partners I’d had. I had to think – it’s been her, and only her, for such a long time that the others have largely faded into memory, bar a few incidents noted above.

As an amateur writer, it struck me as something that she might like to read, as she’s not without her kinky side… and as for sharing it with the wider world, well, I wonder if any of them might recognise themselves now?

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/56mmms/my_wife_asked_how_many_partners_id_had_heres_my