White Hot

Transcript

Speaker1: Good morning, good afternoon, good evening. Wherever you are, I hope you have blue skies. Welcome to the Lifestyle Podcast. I'm your host, Jason. Leave vanilla behind as I share another story with you. This podcast is for adults only. We'll be diving into adult and sexual topics with plenty of colorful language, so it is not safe for work. If you're under 18, this is not the place for you. This show is all about exploring the lifestyle and ethical non-monogamy, and it's open to everyone, no matter your background, gender, identity, expression, or your personal truth. While I do my best to use inclusive language, you might hear terms like husband, wife, or partner for simplicity's sake. This show is for everyone, lifestyle, vanilla, or just the curious. You want to connect, you can send me an email to host at thatotherlifestyle.com. Visit my website, thatotherlifestyle.com. Everyone is welcome here because the lifestyle is so much more than you think. Today, I offer a story. Whether it's true or not, it doesn't really fucking matter. A similar tale has happened to most men in the styles, similar thoughts flowing through your brains. Again, it is fiction, mostly, maybe. Who cares at this fucking point? Listen and take what you need from it. I take a draw from my cherry-flavored vape, poison disguised as fruit hits my tongue. I quit smoking 20 years ago but never truly kicked the need for nicotine. Patches, mints, gums, cigars, the addiction stays through it all. That shit changes the brain structure just like beautiful women, crazy nights, good sex, and things better left unsaid in pleasant company around family. The cloudy residue leaves my lips and it is immediately snatched away by the sea breeze. Salt air fills my lungs between puffs and I love that smell. Long ago pirates enjoyed this every day. Maybe my ancestors and now my time here is relegated to a lifestyle rave. Waves are quiet on this human night. Stepping outside to compose myself, regain my hearing and my thoughts, leaning over the railing to hide my throbbing erection. This fucking outfit hides nothing. Flimsy shorts and a mesh shirt, the most pointless garment ever designed and produced. Smoking a cigarette, there is a finality to it. Light the cigarette, watch it burn, and then it's done. Little bud is thrown away and you know the time has come to go back to real life. Vaping has no time constraints. It is both finite and infinite. You just suck and blow till the craving passes. Staring at the dark ocean tonight, beyond the lights of the hotel, pondering life and what the fuck to do next, wondering if my giggling butterfly friend is up for fun, the door opens with a big whoosh. all night. Noticed him when he entered the party with a smile and a group of friends. This man has swagger, I think. My wife likes that. Don't know his name yet. I know he was eyeballing my wife, though. A predator can always tell where another one is looking. Big, broad smile. Young, younger than me. My gray hair is earned, and I can tell he will earn his. His outfit makes a little more fucking sense than my mesh shirt, a tank tops and shorts. He looks in my direction, and I can tell what he wants. A vape fiend. Never have their own, but they always want to hit. And it's fine. Again, I miss smoking. Giving someone a cigarette, you get to have a conversation with them. You never know with a vape if they will just puff and leave or stand and share. I read his expression and reflexively hand over the vape. He puffs with a big grin, then sticks out his hand. His name is Jimmy. I introduce myself as Jason. His handshake is firm for once, not the dismissive limp kind I usually get when people realize the power in my hands. I always hold back with handshakes. They're not a fight for I figure. Taking a position next to me on the railing we pass the vape back and forth a few times. I can't stand the silence. I don't fucking like silence. I know I need to appreciate it more, but the cost of my vape is words and conversation for anyone ever interested. Pull out the old standby question. Having fun? Is this your first time here? Always ask two questions if they are both yes or no answers. He straightens up to look at me and exclaims yes and yes. He says he was unsure if they would come, but it looked fun online. This is their first place. time at a party like this and he loves it. Gushes about the music and the dancing. I said his wife was just dancing on the speaker inside and I love that for them. I'm telling him I'm happy he is here. It ain't my event but I want people to know I like them jumping in and trying out new adventures. The rave or party or however we define it not really sure anymore has been going on for three hours at this point and I figure we got another three hours of dancing in us. My wife will make sure of that. My wife loves these events. She loves the freedom of being and expression and personality. She loves being able to just dance for hours with no worries or expectations. All day long, she lives in a world that makes her conform, that ask, that demands, that wants. Corporate meetings that could have been emails, million-dollar projects that ride on an email, her email, her choices. Here, she can leave all that behind for a few hours and simply be. And I will be the suffering bastard with her. There is no pain, distance, or enemy. I would not conquer for her. If my feet bleed tomorrow morning from all this fucking dancing, it's a small price to pay to see her smile. If my body is sore and aching on the ride home tomorrow, I will smile through it. If she asked, I would pull the sun from the sky so she could wear it around her neck. If she wanted, I would dive to the bottom of the ocean for a single grain of sand. I would fight God, kiss the devil, and outrun a black hole. If she needed, I would bleed and pray and pay the penance of any god. for her. And a lot of all that, spending my time dancing next to her with numb feet, is really a small price to pay. In this space tonight, I appreciate how assertive my wife is, proudly declaring to me earlier she wants to fucking dance, and her outfit is too complicated to take off, so no fuckery. That's fine. I would rather her stand in her own power and her decision more than anything else. Jimmy throws the question back at me, and I say yes, and we are having a blast, and no, this is Not our first time. I tell them we do this all the time. This is my wife's happy place. If I went back in time and told my 30-year-old self I would be at raves at 42, I would not have believed it. Honestly, I probably would have been more freaked out by time travel than finding out about raves. Turning my head, watching Jimmy suck my vape, I share my wife needs raves to relax. He nods, and I continue absentmindedly. You know, we used to go to theme parks all the time before the lifestyle sucked up our weekends. My wife loves all the lights and sounds and stuff at these parties. Jimmy nods in agreement and smiles. I know my wife well enough after all these years to know what she likes in a vacation. We are both terrible at relaxing. The idea of sitting by a pool all day drinking sounds boring and exhausting. Give me and her ten miles of walking at a theme park and we will feel alive. We need motion and movement and going and doing. This is about my wife, but still, after 20 years together, she is a mystery. I still can't figure out the whole puzzle. I know the rough outline, general shape of the image, but every day, I find new pieces, new things, new sparks in my wife. Recently, I learned that she loves the Beastie Boys. How did I not know this? 20 years, did not know that. My wife is still an enigma after all these years, still learning something new about her every single day. And I want this. I want to know more about her. I feel bad for couples that run out of things to talk about, and I always wonder how. How can you possibly know someone so well? There's nothing left to ask. Do they not care enough to learn? I never want to be that person. I never want to stop learning about my wife because I just still find her fascinating. Taking a puff and handing the vape back to me, he asked, who is my wife? Standard question in the lifestyle when two people meet without their spouses. Who are you with? Who do you match with? One part of this is innocent, asking who is your person, and the other part deciding if this couple is worth to fuck collectively. Duality in all things, balance in all moments. My life is now defined by dualities, light and dark, good and bad, joy and pain. I can't escape it so I don't fight it anymore. I know every good moment will be followed by woe, and I'm okay with that because I know despite all my failings, lacking, wanting, need, and general inability to accept the love of others around me like a normal fucking person, my wife is still there. I will always be thankful for her every day because she is my duality. She is my person. Helping me find balance in my life. Helping me to navigate finding balance. Calling me out on my bullshit when I go too far to one side and pulling and pushing me back to the center. My wife has stood beside me in my fear, pain, tears, stupidity. And oh, this is not normal stupidity though. This is stupidity. to describe her outfit this night, outside of sticking words together than in any other context, would make no sense and be completely out of place. Who knew a hobby about fucking people we meet on the internet would involve so much ball shaving and costumes? My wife has a special talent for costumes now. She is dedicated to her craft. I am proud to see how far she has come with her outfits as a metaphor of her personal expression. Anytime another woman texts and mentions the word outfit, She'll immediately start digging through her vast collection in her closet and produce three or four options with pictures immediately. When we started in a lifestyle. Her style. It was a seed. It wasn't dull, but it wasn't a flower. Her wardrobe leaned towards vest and pantsuits, which always looked bizarre in her small frame. The kind of outfit that belongs in a boardroom, not on a free spirit like her. Slowly, over time, she has come to embrace herself, her body, her sexuality, her power, like a bohemian hippie covered in glitter. Now she flaunts her amazing sexy body as a source of pride and confidence, and I love it. I love seeing her blossom into her own, shedding outdated conventions and traditions of how a woman her age should dress. Modest, covered, aging, dull, like a middle-aged HR representative stuck in a cubicle all day getting excited for cake Fridays. Now my wife will wear her lingerie in front of hundreds like tonight. Her confidence is unmeasurable. Love that for her. The word compersion is usually thrown around in a lifestyle used in terms of sex. As in, you experience compersion when you see your partner get spit-roasted. No, this, that, that applies, but not to me always. I feel the most compersion when I see my wife light up, when I see her being her own sexy, powerful self out on a when she can command and demand every male or female gaze in a room effortlessly. When she is putting together outfits in her office all day, when she is shopping and asking for my input and putting so much care in what she wears and what I wear, all of that, that sparks compersion in me. So compersion does not have to be sexual. Fucking Jimmy doesn't know all of this, doesn't know any of this. Back to Jimmy. He smiles and says I think I kissed her on the dance floor. He tells me. Still leaning on the balcony. I just want to be a dick. I turn my head and I tell him oh you did. I saw it. I intentionally grumble the words deciding to try out my strong low voice just to fuck with him. Jimmy blinks when the sound hits his brain and oh I'm sorry was that not okay? He does this half laugh of uncomfortableness. I stand up straight flaring out my shoulders for dramatic event. effect. Two breaths, a pause. And I laugh and I look at him and say, sure it was. She can do whatever the fuck she pleases. I ain't here to control her. Which is true. I want her to live her best life, enjoy herself. I don't control her or her body or what she does with it. I always tell her she has full power to tell someone no, and if they don't listen to her no, then they will certainly listen to mine. I do enjoy fucking with people, though, and using my mask as a conversation tool. Admittedly, this sounds like a jackass move. a big teddy bear in person. My wife is the reason that I work out, that I try to better myself physically. I add in a few extra reps of her at the gym all the time. She is stunning, and I need to be on the same level or at least try to physically. I push myself in the gym for a lot of reasons, but my buddy has a motto that just puts this best. Never be the reason your wife can't get laid. My wife has a body that can make men melt, and again, I love that for her, and I need to be of her, comparable to that. I will break my body six times a week, walk three miles a day, and eat a fucking salad for her. When the alarm goes off on a cold December morning, way before the sun rises, it's her. It's her that gets me out of bed. The thought of pushing my body to the limit, building myself up for my wife. As far as the attention she gets, I fucking like that too. I enjoy when men flirt with her. I want men to flirt with her. That sounds bizarre to vanilla men, but I'm not threatened by It makes me happy when women flirt with me, and I want her to experience that same joy. It makes everyone happy to get attention, to get noticed, to be told how sexy or awesome they are. She deserves it. Jimmy relaxes. Okay, good. Just wanted to make sure. She is very pretty. He shares as I offer my vape in a gesture of peace. My wife is very pretty. I chuckle out the words. They aren't funny. They're true. I'm laughing at how true that statement is. There are a lot of words to describe the beauty of a woman. I know them all. I've probably used them all. And none of them are good enough for my wife. None of the words that I know, and I know this, are good enough to describe my wife. I am positive that my wife has heard every single word that I know in the 20 years we have been together. I have told other women they are sexy. But that doesn't feel right for my wife. is beyond that. I have told other women that they are beautiful, and while I meant it, still not the right word. I have called women goddesses, supernovas, the ocean, wildfire, stardust, blue-eyed devils, angels, songbirds, and to my credit, I rarely recycle a flirt. For my wife, I have nothing. And this is not a sad nothing, not a dark nothing, a bright nothing. A white-hot space that cannot be defined or quantified. Her beauty just is. She just is. It is a space that always is because she has always been beautiful in my eyes and always will be and so much more. She is infinite warmth. She is infinite light. She is undefinable, unquantifiable, and no matter how long I try, I know I can't. She simply is. Blinding, overwhelming, white-hot space of that ultimate love. And this is not an empty space. It's full, full of goodness and peace and my happiness and my world, my everything, resting, in this space, her space, her heart, her soul, and I am just a small speck in this glory. This man, standing on this balcony with me, knows none of this. He finds a word that works and I accept his gift. A compliment for my spouse is a gift, which I appreciate. She is my better half, she is my purpose. I am a fucking dumpster fire compared to her in all measures. Thank you, I say. And then I ask, well, who is your wife? Returning to leaning against the balcony, looking at my ocean. He describes his wife by her outfit just like I did. It's an easy way to do it. Something about a white bodysuit and pink shorts. I smile and tell him I noticed her. She is beautiful as well. Jimmy comes closer and leans next to me on the balcony, and I know the look in his eyes. I have that fucking look all the time. That thousand-yard stare of truth. He confides. We are lucky men. I agree. Yes, we are. Both savoring the moment of how amazing our wives are. I savor and am thankful for my wife every minute of every day. For the moment, I stand outside the bedroom door waiting for her to wake up and I can hug her. Then, making sure I catch a glimpse of her naked before I go to the gym, my day begins with her. Back from the gym, I get excited to go home and see her. I walk into the house, put down my gym bag, and hope that she's there to meet me. Meh, usually she's in her office working. Which is fine, I can find her. She always smiles when I tell her I'm back and that smile warms my heart. No matter how dark my thoughts get during my workout because, look, dark thoughts are great motivation to move heavy shit. Those thoughts always melt away when I see her. I am thankful she is always nearby. We both work from home and we're never more than a few hundred feet apart. Telling vanilla couples about this and their immediate reaction is disgust. Somehow these miserable bastards are so unhappy with their spouse, constant proximity to their supposed best friend is anathema. I love it. I need it. I get lonely when my wife goes to get a haircut. My friends know this because I bitch about it. The silence between me and Jimmy lasts way too long, and I retort. We are lucky men. Lucky men with beautiful wives. I should probably go find mine. Speaking of loneliness, I miss my wife in those short minutes I was outside. Before coming outside, I left her in the care of a man I trust to keep an eye on her. I trust her. That's not the issue. I trust her to communicate and share with me. Our communication has been so much better since joining the lifestyle, both between us and from her. We now have words to describe how we feel and what we think. Before all these wild times, we, like so many couples, struggled to talk. We said the words, but we weren't talking. We weren't listening. each of us every single day to listen better. That's the only way you're going to be successful. Honesty and truth and feelings and all that shit. I trust her to have fun. I made sure she was washed because I am protective, not jealous. My wife is the most precious person in the world to me. There is no one who can take her place, replace, dethrone, or de-pedestal her ever. She is my one and only. And since she is my one and only, I want to protect her. and suffering and misery and badness that the world may throw at her. I want to be her guardian. I will happily stand in the hellfire if it means she will never get burned. I will give to her, unto her, until I am empty and then I will take out alone. We exchange contact info over a last few puffs of a vape. I hold the door open for him and we go back into the chaos. To find our wives, to find trouble for the night, find my own personal trouble who is very good at giving me erections in public. I find my wife where I left her, same spot, still dancing. My friend hugs me and waves his arm in a mock gesture of handing over stewardship of my wife back to me. I smile and look at her. I look at my wife with eyes that have seen her every single day for 20 years. I look at her with eyes that could stare at her for another hundred years and never blink. My wife has no idea the conversation I just had. She has no idea the thoughts that run through my head, my secrets. She has no idea I wrote the script and she may I tell her that if she could see herself through my eyes, she would never be sad. If my wife could see what I see in her, she would never be self-conscious. She would have all the confidence and power in the world because that is how I see her. And I know there is power in her, and that power has slowly come out more and more in the lifestyle. I have seen her grow from timid and anxious to this powerhouse of charisma. She surprises me very often at events, finding the most attractive couple in a room and just walking up and saying hi like it's second nature a skill a power that so many struggle with to her it's natural like the river finding an ocean i start to dance out the corner of my eye i see my own personal trouble looking back at me she stares a lot and i know when she is watching lots of bickering with her with her over the amount of staring we do at each other predators no predators i look back at my wife still I don't think she has stopped smiling for hours she is in her happy place right now and I'm in mine next to her loving her cherishing her and everything she is I never ask her to change I never ask her for more because I have enough leaning into her ear trying to shout over the music I share the exchange I had outside and point to the man I was talking to I asked her did you kiss him she thinks for a second nods and laughs and I tell her good I love her laughter she She has so many different laughs, and I can decode them all. I know when she is nervous. I know when she is filling space. I know when she is happy or laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of life with me. It is a laugh that I love to make happen, and I'm thankful she still laughs at all my stupid jokes, bad jokes, and witty statements. Laughter is the quickest way to connect with another person, and I need to connect with my wife all the time. Returning to my post next to her, watching her live her best life tonight, loving her with everything I have, can, and ever will, be. And one last thing, she's smart. She knows that I will stand here all night long and dance for her. She's one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. Between teaching herself AI, being a published author, and random facts, she's the mental match for many. She is smart enough, though, to know that when I hit my wall later, that night, and gracious enough to call it a night when I just can't go anymore. As we get ready for bed, I watch her again, strip off her very and change into pajamas. The sexiest of all outfits in my opinion. Comfortable, cotton, simple. We crawl into bed too tired to fool around making a pinky promise to make it up tomorrow. Before I go to sleep, I thank God for her. For being lucky enough to be married to her. For being lucky enough to have her in my life. For being lucky enough for her. I ask for forgiveness in all the ways I have failed, ever failed her. And permission to make it up to her. for a long future with her. Longer than a man should be allowed. My final act of the night is to slide a hand under the covers to touch her shoulder one more time. Make sure she is real because sometimes I doubt a woman like her could even exist. Before I go today, I want to share my podcast friends started a new show. My friend Paula and Nikki from the Friends with Pineapples podcast have a new show called In the Playroom Podcast. You can find them on Instagram at In the Playroom Podcast, all one word. Nikki's voice is just fire. STD Hero. They're a wonderful sponsor of the show. I love these people. They're amazing. They're a lifestyle-friendly company. So friendly, they come to our parties and events. I cannot stress how awesome that is. They will be at the AVN in January in Vegas, so if you make it out that way, go find their booth. STDHero.com. Go to their websites and buy your kits. Don't go to Amazon, okay? Go to the website. Use my promo code TOL15 for 15% of your order. I'm telling you to go to their website instead of going to Amazon because you can use my promo code on their website stdhero.com and save money. Can't do that on Amazon so it's cheaper if you go to stdhero.com. This is also your quarterly reminder to get tested. Support the show and get tested. My wife and I will be at the Bunny's Events Christmas Party December 6th in Pensacola, Florida. You can find details at bunnysevents.com. Come on out. Come out and party with us at what I think are the best bar takeovers I've ever been to. And one of the other friends of the show, Risqué Lifestyle Parties, they have a New Year's Eve event coming up in Baton Rouge on New Year's Eve, duh. And they've added some new stuff to the Florida Adventures. There's a new party in May. Go to risquélifestyleparties.com for details. All right, real talk here. I need to tell you something. something important. I'm fucking tired, man. I'm exhausted. I need a break. I have been doing this podcast almost every week for 600-some-odd days, dropping episodes nearly weekly. I am fucking tired. I've shared too much with you. I have told you too much. I have done too much. I have lived and loved and fucked and fucked up enough. It's time for me to take a break. It's time for me to rest for a few weeks, okay? I have a lot of plans. I had a lot of plans at the start of the year. And due to my own fault and me being a shithead, all those went out the fucking window. So I figure it's time for a reset. This is not us stepping back or quitting the lifestyle. I literally just want a break from this show. I want a vacation. I need to recharge, okay? The show is not ending. It's going to be back in like two or three weeks. Don't freak out if there's not a new episode next week. You're recharging. Just like you after you have sex four times in a night with four different women and you need a snack and a sip of water, That's what I'm doing, recharging. The show is not stopping. I will be back with stories of adventure, thrills, chills, advice, joy, sadness, and a little bit of humor. This show, and you, and all this means way too much to me to stop. Stepping away will let me get re-energized, recalibrate, re-evaluate what I want from the show, let me acquire new stories and experiences on my own. And admittedly, those first episodes, they were rough. Bad microphone, and I wasn't entirely sure of my voice yet. They did get better, okay? And looking back on it, yeah, you hear and you have felt my journey through this lifestyle. From the highest highs to the darkest lows. I have shared, I have poured, I have poured it all out, and now I am empty again. Oddly, I am excited to be empty. That means I can fill my cup up with what I want and need. And right now, I know I need to step back for a few weeks. I have not been a good friend to one person in particular, and I owe them a thousand apologies. So I need time for that because I still have a couple hundred to go. I've not been good to myself due to my own issues, and I need time for that. None of this is because of the lifestyle, and I don't blame the lifestyle for any of it. It is better to bleed and cry than never feel anything at all. It lets you know you're a human. So, look, take this time. You can go check out other shows, but come back to mine. Take this time. I'm going to take this time to be human. Love, burn, fuck, laugh, live. Live harder in three days than most people do in a whole year, okay? Go roll the dice. Take the ride. Swing the bat. Talk to that sexy couple at the party. Ask for what you want. Tell her to get on her knees. Look someone in the eyes and tell them that you want to fuck them. I might lose listeners. That is a risk I'm taking here. And some of my audience, I really hope I don't. I hope you're patient with me. Go listen to Indie Playroom podcast, my friend's show, if you need your podcast fixed. And just to be clear, me, I'm good. I am all good. I promise. I need to go out and make new stories and mundane moments. I need to eat chicken nuggets naked with a beautiful woman again and appreciate it more. I need to drink coffee and watch the sunrise with friends again and appreciate it more. I need to go slow dance again with a friend because I owe her that. I need to hug someone, hug a whole bunch of people, and smile again and I need to appreciate all this more. When your needs and your debts are more than your wants and credits, it's time for a little self-care and a goddess taught me that. I always appreciate hearing your feedback and comments on episodes or suggestions for topics, so feel free to reach out to me at host at thatotherlifestyle.com. My website, thatotherlifestyle.com. The website! I have to update my website in the interim period, so yeah, when the show comes back, new website with links that work and all the fucking ticketing things and all the shit that I need to put on there. I've let a lot of things slip, and I gotta fix all this stuff. Again, that's why I'm taking a little break. Just get my head straight, fix a bunch of stuff, and when I come back, we can just hit the ground harder than ever. My personal disclaimer, I'm not a medical professional nor a trained and certified educator of any kind in any way. I'm a guy with a microphone sharing my personal experiences with you. This podcast is for entertainment purposes only, and please join us for the next episode. and it takes the community to make a difference. So go to stdhero.com, not Amazon, and use my promo code TOL15 for 15% off your order. Whatever you may do today, I hope you have a fantastic time doing it. Know that you're appreciated and loved. Have a great day. I will see you again in a few weeks. Bye.