Why I Took My Husband to a Brothel Part 1
Why I took my husband to a brothel started because some Saturday nights I enjoy going to my local bar, it is an interesting petri dish of the local culture and there’s karaoke.
Drunken people singing familiar songs, badly, and making the whole bar laugh, sign me up. On these nights I often meet the most unusual characters.
Characters like the men who called me Adele all night and tried to “figure me out” by asking too many weird questions; or the woman who kept trying to dry hump my husband’s leg repeatedly, despite him obviously moving away each time; or the rich old man who comes to flirt with the pretty bar girls and sometimes parties and buys us all rounds of shots, but can be reserved and stand-offish. These nights are fascinating and fun, but one night stood out and changed the course of my relationship, all thanks to my meeting the stunning Tiffany.
Sitting alone, I had noticed a beautiful woman across the bar staring and smiling coyly at me, after about an hour of shared smiles and glances she finally approached me. Apparently Tiffany found me very attractive and needed to introduce herself, she kept complimenting me then blushing and looking away. It was beguiling, her softly stroking my hair had me weak. Naturally flirtatious with her body and behaviour, she had me intrigued and attracted to her within minutes, for hours we flirted over gin and tonics while local men made the usual, lurid comments.
”Let us watch you finger her!”, or “Drinks and a show.”, and the all-time favourite, “It would be better if I could join in.”
If someone could surprise me with a new, witty, misogynistic comment in this situation, I might actually make their dreams come true, just out of sheer shock. But honestly if we were a heterosexual couple flirting like this, they might say “Get a room.”; if we were homosexual men, or transgender, their reactions could have been violent. Make your reactions equal, or don’t react at all.
Ignoring the local zoo Tiffany and I exchanged numbers and parted ways, her home to her boyfriend, me home to my husband. My husband was dumbstruck, and a little disappointed he had stayed home, since there has only been one experience in our 10 years together where he has seen me behave sexually with another woman. This happened in a strip club, years ago, and he has always wanted to see more.
Excited and intrigued by the unusual turn of events we started to talk about what involving another woman would look like for us.
We talked long and hard about what we wanted to do, namely have sex with a woman together, and what our boundaries were. At this point in my story you might assume that I am a confident, fit, beautiful woman. Sorry to disappoint, I am socially awkward, chubby, and maybe a strangely beautiful woman. I never saw myself writing about my sex life let alone genuinely considering an actual threesome with my husband, so many of my comfort zones were being tested here.
For about a week after this night we talked seriously about going to a brothel together, this wasn’t the first time we had considered it, just the first time we had made any effort into doing anything about it.
A strange and nervous excitement built up our relationship, and our sex life, similar to the excitement you feel when exploring a new relationship or sexual partner.
In many ways we were starting a new relationship together, we started exploring new fantasies knowing that they could come true. Despite still enjoying a very regular, pleasurable sex life we hadn’t felt this kind of spark together for years. This helped reinvigorate our confidence and communication.
The tale of the brothel adventure can wait until next time, it is an epic tale, filled with strange characters and some excellent memories.
For now I will say that we need to address how we discuss other people’s private lives and how the LGBTQI+ community are treated socially. Especially when it comes to how we approach other people's sex lives.
I’m fairly lucky in my experience, compared to other members of the LGBTQI+ community, my experiences are often limited to the tacky but mostly harmless remarks mentioned earlier, but other people face much worse. Having my public experience with the traditionally gorgeous Tiffany made me feel more confident in my own beauty, who wouldn’t feel empowered by someone complimenting you, unencouraged, for hours. Most importantly this experience opened new channels of communication between my husband and I, allowing us to feel more comfortable exploring new things together. I met a gorgeous woman in a bar one Saturday night and that’s how I ended up going to a brothel with my husband, but that’s a story for next time.
