My new hot friend turned to me: “If you don’t like them, we won’t invite them. It’s those two over there, and those other two behind me.” I looked at the two couples, not having spoken to either, trying to determine whether we wanted them in our hotel room for the orgy. “No, sorry.”
It felt bad! My new friend then had to communicate the rejections to both parties, and I felt bad bad. Just like I felt bad multiple times during our week in Cap d’Agde, saying “no” and “not now” to people who are plenty nice and friendly, and often super attractive. Worse, we’ve rejected people we like and consider friends.
We like to think a rejection is always a “not now,” not a “not ever,” but it doesn’t always feel like that in the moment. We like to remind ourselves (when we are rejected), that it’s never personal to the people. When we say no, it’s about us, not them, and we try to extend the same grace to others. But still, it’s hard.
I feel guilty. I feel like a party-pooper. I feel uptight. “Why can’t I just go with the flow?” “Why am I a ‘no’?” Sometimes we turn down every couple who approaches us in a night, ending the night without any play partners, and I wonder, did I make the right calls? I watch a hopeful, happy light in prospective couples’ eyes turn into a little sadness, and I want to cry, to reach out and comfort them, to explain, and I think, ah, just fuck them! I so badly want everyone to have a good time, and for everybody to get what they want.
But there is more demand than I can meet. More importantly, my desire is not animated by other people’s desire. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I can’t fuck somebody else for somebody else, whether that’s for them or for Mr. Honey or even for a part of me that loves to people please. My pussy is in charge of who I fuck, and she cannot be swayed: either she wants it because it sounds pleasurable to her, or she doesn’t.
But that doesn’t make rejecting people easier. It feels lousy. And because so much of swinging is a repeat-game, i.e. we will see these people again, it makes me want to say yes to reduce future discomfort, to stay friendly.
But the mind is a tricky s-o-b. It is much easier to gracefully decline today, leaving the door open for the future, than it is to play despite my inner knowing and have a less-than-perfect play session that has me thinking never again. It’s much harder, actually, much more personal, to say no to people you played with once before.
More than that, I have to evaluate downside risk. Downside-risk evaluation, of course, has two parts: (1) the percentage possibility of a negative outcome and, (2) how bad potentially negative outcomes are. These should be weighed against the possibility of a positive outcome and how good that positive outcome is. With swinging, the positive outcomes are known: amazing sex, maybe lifelong, close friendship. Sometimes, the appeal of amazing sex blinds us to the potential worse-case-scenarios: serious relationship-rupture between me and my beloved or even the death of the relationship, serious or lifelong sexual disease, and rape or sexual assault, including anything that leaves me feeling icky. Now, the most important question: What is the possibility of a negative outcome, and what is your risk tolerance for it?
My risk tolerance is very low. And, unlike riding a bicycle or taking an airplane, the possibility of a negative outcome in swinging (especially that icky feeling) is actually quite high. For me, I’d much rather miss out on potentially amazing sex than betray myself in any way (which leaves me filling icky), or experience a relationship rupture or sexual assault. I don’t mean to say swingers are out here sexually assaulting one another, but rather, to me, when I have sex when I’m not all in, it feels like a form of sexual violence for which I am responsible. It’s very easy, especially in a group play setting, to give someone a blowjob or a kiss or even let someone fuck me because it would cause less friction than saying no, and for me, when I make that choice I forget that the downside is a strike to my self-trust (and therefore confidence and self-esteem) that will far outlast the moment.
So, if I fail to reject someone, I fail to protect myself. I betray myself for the sake of someone else, and I always pay dearly. Sometimes my pussy refuses to get wet for weeks. Other times I feel low and unsexy, and I want to quit swinging altogether. And these aren’t even the worst possible outcomes of a less than perfect experience! These are common ones.
So, damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
I do think that this process is making me more mature. I felt bad that day, saying no to those extra party-seekers. But then I remembered I had a loyalty to the other people I invited, a duty to keep them safe, and I couldn’t vouch for the unknown people. Saying no to them made for a safer play environment, and, I think, endeared us further to our friends. It also made for hotter play because there was less strangeness, fewer threats, and therefore my worry-mind could turn off a bit and allow me to feel pleasure. There is no listening to myself and honoring my pussy without letting some people down. Even though it’s hard, rejecting others means I get to live in integrity and without woeful regret.
What’s your risk tolerance?
Love, Honey