I’m a Lucky Girl

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about all of the good things I have to be grateful for. And one of those good things is my best friend.

On the evening of 7 September 2023, I was at Wet On Wellington, a swingers’ club in Collingwood. I was headed upstairs with a group of people when one of them ran into his friend, who had just showered and was about to leave. I remember staring at this guy and thinking he was absolutely gorgeous, so I invited him to stay and join us upstairs. To my delight, he accepted, and once we were in that little room, he fucked my brains out—he blew my mind. We had intense sexual chemistry, and I knew we had to do it again, so we swapped numbers.

From there, we started texting and meeting up at other events. And before I knew it, I wasn’t just looking forward to meeting up with this guy so that we could fuck (although I admit it was part of the appeal)—I was looking forward to meeting up with him so that we could hang out. He was funny and smart and caring, and we had so much in common that we began to joke that we were the same person trapped in two different bodies.

Although we haven’t known each other for very long, I like to think I’m a good judge of character, and I usually know fairly quickly whether or not somebody is going to be in my life for a long time—I had my other best friend’s initials tattooed on my arse less than two months after we met, for example, and we’re still as thick as thieves after almost a year.

With that in mind, I know that Sebastian and I will be friends until we’re old and grey and getting around the nursing home together. I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody so important to me in such an unexpected manner, but I’m eternally grateful that I did.

Some people don’t understand our relationship. They think it’s weird that we call each other Big Brother and Little Sister, but then sleep together. They can’t grasp that we’re so close, but we’re not a couple. But it works for us. I adore him, he adores me, and together, we’re free to be enormous sluts together.

Not everybody is lucky enough to have nights like the one I had last night—we cooked dinner together (it was taco night), had a D&M while he drove us to an event, and then we split up to play with our respective new friends, meeting back up intermittently to have a kiss or a cuddle (and, later in the night, for him to finger me until I squirted), or to wingman each other. Afterwards, we came back to my place, had a scorching hot play session, cuddled and kissed some more, ate some leftovers and bantered, and then he drove home and I fell into a state of blissful comatose. Tonight, we’re going to do it all over again—and tomorrow, he’s throwing me a gang bang as a thank you gift for spoiling him so thoroughly and debaucherously on his birthday last weekend. I feel truly blessed.

Sebastian is a lot of things to me. He’s my big brother. He’s my partner in crime. He’s my play partner. He’s my hype man. He’s my confidant. He’s my Daddy. But most importantly, he’s my best friend, and I feel so fucking privileged to have him in my life. Whenever I’m having a bad day, I know I can turn to him; he will utter the words “I’m proud of you, kid—you can do this”, and, magically, my problems won’t seem so overwhelming.

Find yourself a best friend who cares about you as much as we care about each other. That kind of bond is worth its weight in gold.

Freyja x