Boundaries are like lingerie, they peel away the hornier you get (and that's okay!)

"Boundaries only make sense while they're upholding and supporting our wants and desires - not limiting them. If that's no longer the case, don't be afraid to move those fucking cones, my friend..."

Boundaries.

For a word that sounds like it should be dry and sensible, it holds an awful lot of heat in this lifestyle.

Whether you’re solo, coupled up, or part of a polycule, boundaries aren’t just important - they’re everything. They govern our entire network of fun and flirtation, and sex and connection.

And we lifestylers don’t even have a monopoly on them! Monogamous relationships have boundaries too. Hell, even a single person on the vanilla dating scene has boundaries; personal parameters that help manage their own comfort and enjoyment.

Boundaries let us know where the limits are, and when you’re talking about a situation with multiple people in the mix - threesomes, couples, moresomes - it’s essential to have a good handle on what everybody wants - or, vitally, doesn’t want.

A few weeks ago I wrote extensively about kinks and dynamics; exploring the things we each enjoy in this lifestyle, the things that turn us on, our personal zones of pleasure. And so if kinks and dynamics are the attractions that we enjoy, then boundaries are the roads we steer along between them.

As Monica Geller would say: boundaries help control the fun. Because while we might be exploring wildly, there needs to be care and connection underlying.

Okay, but this is where it gets really interesting. Because while many people might imagine boundaries as rigid metal goalposts, steadfast and fixed, I’ve discovered in the last couple of years that they’re much more akin to plastic cones, placed carefully on the grass before each game, ready for us to move around as we see fit - whether that be a gentle nudge apart, or even a swift boot off the pitch entirely.

When my husband and I were first starting to actively explore our fantasies together, it never occurred to me that there was much flexibility in what we wanted. At that time, I had no concept of non-monogamy (outside of the ‘key in a bowl’ swinging stereotype), or the vibrant community that was awaiting us. I thought, best-case scenario, we’d have a great stag/vixen experience, and then have this sexy shared secret to carry around in our back pocket; a ‘fuck, look what we did’ trophy we could admire in private - proof of one unforgettable night of non-vanilla kink.

Going into that first experience, our metal goalposts were firmly in place - hammered out during those intense early chats - and I suppose there was a comfort in that; in thinking that rules, once set, were concrete and trusted. We laid our hands on those posts, looked each other in the eye, and decided we felt brave enough to try playing.

And from that very first game…(yup, I’m going to flog this metaphor a little longer) oh boy were we hooked.

What I didn’t know then, couldn’t know then, was how our boundaries would shift, almost beyond recognition. Our first experience was everything we’d wanted it to be. Everyone came out happy, and then...something unexpected happened. We decided to tweak the game-plan, and just like that, those firm goalposts of my imagination evaporated, leaving behind our little flexible plastic cones. We placed them - quite gingerly at first, and with a lot of conversation as to their whereabouts - on our pitch.

“I think I’d really like to see you with another woman,” I told J one night soon after, my eyes opened to the possibility for the first time. It wasn’t something I even knew I wanted before, but now the idea stirred something in me that was too hot to deny.

Nudge.

We’d never intended to play with couples, but our first couple swap followed soon after this conversation, and it was incredible.

Weeks later, after agreeing early on that we weren’t interested in any kind of solo play, J said: “I think it would be hot for you to go and meet that guy for a drink on your own…” I couldn’t agree more. We were both curious how that dynamic would affect the sexiness of the experience for us both.

More nudging.

Then, on the night, when I messaged J to say Tom and I were heading up to the hotel room, he responded with ‘You guys go ahead, have fun, I’ll be up a bit later.’

Hot. Nudge-nudge.

J said later that he wanted me to have a little time to explore on my own without him there, to have the freedom to play without it being a performance for him, and without having to take him into account in that room. He also wanted to see how it would make him feel, the tease of knowing what was happening without being able to see it right there in front of him. It was a very successful experiment all round!

Interestingly it isn’t our actual experiences with other people that have moved things the most, it is the conversations we’ve had with each other in between. The conversations where we walk around the pitch together, picking up a cone, taking a couple of steps, and placing it back down, then looking at each other like ‘this could be good..?’ And I think that’s part of why this lifestyle brings couples together, makes them an even tighter unit. It makes you so aligned, so in sync; on the same team and on the same path, because you’re constantly talking, re-evaluating, communicating.

Of course there’s a level of work involved in managing boundaries, of being open to their flexibility. It can feel like a lot, especially early on, but the rewards speak for themselves, and sex is only a small part of it. The intimacy and connection that that level of trust and effort builds between you as a couple, as you unwrap this huge exploration together layer-by-layer, is the real prize.

With every game we’ve played, we’ve pushed those cones further and further apart. Needing to debrief every little thing before letting anything happen was eventually replaced by our blanket ‘flirt, kiss, touch’ policy, as both of our comfort levels expanded. Anything more is discussed beforehand, but we’ve agreed that those three things don’t need that, and that’s pretty sexy. It’s not something I thought we’d be doing six months ago.

These days the space between our cones is huge, packed with possibility and excitement, but we still walk around the pitch together regularly. I doubt it will ever change. We explore how we’re feeling, knowing that, once the game is underway, we’ll both know exactly where we stand, and we can let go and enjoy every minute. It’s made us a strong lifestyle couple.

And we’re not the only ones. Since opening up about our journey, my inbox has been full of stories from others whose boundaries started out stiff and formal, but now lie playfully scattered across the pitch.

One lifestyle friend revealed to me recently with a giggle: “So at first, I was a ‘no kissing, no intercourse, just touching and hands…’ what a flipping weirdo I was! To be fair, that went right out the window the second time we met another couple!”

One couple who messaged me on Instagram explained: “We started out just as soft swap, and recently had our first MMF and also a full swap with a couple.

“Good communication got us there, always telling each other our desires and fantasies, making time for each other outside of these sexual experiences, and being open and completely honest is the only way.”

Another friend, who has been exploring in the lifestyle with his wife for some time, confirmed that, much like J and I, everything changed for them after that first experience.

“We went from only being interested in couple meets to quickly wanting to try single meets,” he told me.

“When I think back on our very first meeting, there were all these boundaries we had discussed and agreed on, and we did stick to them, but realised afterwards that we hadn’t taken into account how good things would feel in the moment, and how that might affect what we both wanted to do. So, very quickly, our boundaries changed and the dynamics evolved. The thought of meeting people separately, for instance, was always a no-go, until it changed - and wow! The sensations and feelings it ignited within each of us was unreal, and very difficult to put into words. My wife was the first to go on her solo date and I remember telling her “I love you, don't forget the condoms,” and we both just burst out laughing. I’m so glad we decided to make the jump. It has made us better and our connection stronger. It’s also made us want to shout about it to the whole world, because it seems such a shame that other couples are missing out on this!”

Another female friend shared: “We started out as ‘same room’ only, then that moved to separate rooms as we became more comfortable, and now I’m a Hotwife and play solo!”

“Yes! I can relate!” another messaged me excitedly. “We started out as soft swap, thinking that was all it would ever be, then had a couple swap, and just recently had our first MFF threesome. There’s now so much more that we want to try!”

And these messages are just a handful of the ones that have poured into my DMs recently. The consensus amongst those that have been exploring for a while most definitely seems to be one of evolution.

Not that it’s always easy, especially when you’re thinking about pushing into territory that used to be a hard limit for you as a couple. But here’s the truth: if your perspective on pre-agreed boundaries starts to shift, that’s okay. Talk about it. We can’t ever fully predict how we’ll feel on the other side of something new, so it’s crucial to stay open to change and check in regularly. Sit down together, have your debriefs, and ask the questions that matter: How did that feel for you? Is there something you would have liked to to explore more? Did anything feel off?

And above all else, be honest. If something’s changed for you, say so. J and I made a deal early on that everything is a conversation. If one of us brings up something we once ruled out, it doesn’t mean we’ll rush into it, it just means we’re allowed to speak freely, without fear of judgement or fallout. That’s the greatest gift we could give each other.

Likewise, if we try something we’d previously agreed on but one of us doesn’t enjoy it, that’s never going to become a fight. I’m not going to be angry that I didn’t enjoy watching J have sex with another woman, if I 'd previously agreed I wanted him to do it. I can say, “I didn’t love that, I don’t think I want to do it again, at least not for now,” and that’s that. We move on.

Releasing each other from emotional punishment is the only way to truly relax and enjoy what you’re exploring together.

From our perspective, we’ve never been happier. This little kink we came to explore together has flourished into a way of life we never could have imagined. It serves as a powerful reminder that boundaries aren’t created to box us in, and they shouldn't be treated as such. They only make sense while they're upholding and supporting our wants and desires - not limiting them.

If that's no longer the case, don't be afraid to move those fucking cones, my friend, whether that's nudging them gently, or booting them from the pitch with reckless and glorious abandon.

Because, oh baby, we came to play…

See you next week

- The Secret Hotwife