Balancing our real lives with swinger lifestyle privacy and identity felt almost impossible the night we decided to start writing about our adventures. We were sitting at our beat-up oak dining table at midnight, kids dead asleep upstairs, staring at…
My hands were visibly shaking over the kitchen sink while I rinsed a greasy pan. The kids were finally passed out in bed, the suburban quiet had settled over our house, and my chest felt like an anvil had landed…
The sun was barely peeking through our bedroom blinds on Sunday morning, but instead of feeling the post-party glow we expected, we felt like we had been run over by a truck. We lay there in bed, staring at the…
If you had told me five years ago that I’d be sitting at our kitchen island in the Chicago suburbs, drinking lukewarm coffee, and writing about the difference between being a cuckold and a hotwife husband, I would have laughed…
Before our very first night out, I stood in front of my closet for three solid hours, surrounded by a mountain of rejected clothes. I’m a 42-year-old mom from the suburbs. My daily uniform is basically Lululemon leggings and an…
If you told me five years ago that Matt and I—two completely ordinary 42-year-olds with three kids, living in a quiet suburban cul-de-sac—would be sitting across from another couple trying to figure out soft swap vs full swap, I would’ve…
It was a random Tuesday night around 9:30. The kids were finally out cold, the dishwasher was humming in the background, and Matt and I were out on the back deck drinking four-dollar Pinot Noir. We were 42, living the…
A few years ago, after the kids finally passed out and the dishwasher was running in the background, Natt and I were sitting on our faded living room couch staring at our phones. We were trying to make sense of…
When Matt and I first decided to dip our toes into non-monogamy, we went completely off the deep end trying to decode swinger symbols. Seriously, it was bad. We were 42, living in a quiet suburban neighborhood with two kids,…
A couple of years ago, Matt and I found ourselves standing in our suburban living room, staring at a fancy charcuterie board and three other couples who were just as secretly terrified as we were. The minivans were parked down…
