Author: He Said

Until about 3 months ago, this was a benign Monday morning question I fielded from my co-workers – some of whom are truly good friends. I would tell them in appropriate detail that weekend’s exploits: kids skateboarding at the park, long run in the woods, fixing the car…. God I am so Middle America it hurts. Since Mrs. Said and I started sticking a toe (and other parts) into the swimming pool of swinging, it feels odd to have this dirty little secret. I hadn’t realized how ‘open book’ I had been before. Everything was on the table. Not yesterday.…

Editor’s Note: Have you ever tried to coordinate a project with more than one contributor? I am sure you have. After all, even the Fry Guy at McDonald’s can’t shine if the Burger Guy fails to put his product in the bag. Collaborative projects take longer than solo ones. I’m not casting blame on anyone (*cough*Mrs. Said*cough*) but our post detailing our first swinging experience (i.e. actual sexual contact with another couple) is still forthcoming. Sure, it is an editorial gaffe to publish a follow-up to a non-existent post. Just think of this as a nice little story with a…

It is a quiet Saturday afternoon as I begin this post. The little Saids are spending the night at their grandparents’ house, leaving Mrs. Said and me with a free night out. We have options: vanilla or swinging? Since we have great babysitter coverage due to some bartering we do, we get plenty of vanilla date nights. We’re going to do something swing-related tonight. Yipee! We have several options there. Mrs. Said’s least favorite of our options is the local swinging club. Trying to pick someone up in a bar has never been a strong suit for either of us.…

…with some personal, occasionally-painful tangents thrown in ‘cuz it is my post and that’s the way my brain works. Parting with my usual style, I am writing a heartfelt piece about my wife and our journey to the doorstep of swinging. This blog post was prompted by a couple recent posts: one by Mrs. Said and the other by her sister. The former was an unbelievably sweet, generous open letter to me. It was written at what feels like a high point in our life together. I wish I could link to it but that would blow our cover in…

Ask any kindergarten kid.  What’s more than a million?  A brazilian. And that is approximately how many hairs were removed from my ball sack.  With wax.  Quickly.  By a stranger. Let me take a step back.  Like I posted before, Mrs. Said and I are swingers.  It is official as of a couple days ago.  We had our first session of synchronized infidelity.  In contrast to religious teachings, my head did not pop off.  Oh the wailing and gnashing of teeth on pro and con sides of the swinging issue. People who swing stay married.  Or get divorced.  People who…

My first blog post. Other than masturbating, this seems like the most self-indulgent thing I can imagine. Especially because – unlike me masturbating – I think you may want to see this. We are swingers. More details can be found in About.  But not many details.  We can’t blow our cover since we appear on the outside to be upstanding, non-deviant pillars of the community.  Maybe not pillars.  Flying buttresses?  Sorry.  I only did drugs from middle school through college, but they had an effect.  Back to the story. So I was sitting there at the dinner table eating a…