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 soon-to-be-released prequel.
Our August 28 post provides insight into my mental state preceding our Saturday night adventure. Wanting to put our best foot forward – or at least not have me ruin our chances at attracting another couple – Mrs. Said and I made a trip to the local shopping maul to pick out some new jeans and maybe a pair of shoes, a shirt… What recession? The place was packed. Now that I think of it, there weren’t that many shopping bags being carried around.
First we went to Benetton because she saw some hipster skinny jeans in the store window that caught her eye. Being neither 25 years old nor addicted to heroin, let’s just say that was not the look for me. But she saw some boots she liked for me. On to the 7 store. I can’t tell you how long 7 jeans have been on the market but it has been just long enough for me to not vomit when looking at the price tag. They charge what?? But I will never forget the stunning look of Mrs. Said’s derriere in that first pair of 7s. Damn fine considering how shortly that was after Little Said #2 hit the ground.
After trying a few different cuts and colors, we landed on one pair that said “hip for a middle-aged dude but not trying too hard.” Ahhhh. $190 worth of street cred. 7’s tag line is “7 For All Mankind.” I guess “7 For Dumbasses With Too Much Money” didn’t test well in the focus groups. From there it was back to Benetton for the boots, then Brooks Brothers for some shirts… I rarely shop for clothes so when I do it is not unlike a covert mission behind enemy lines. Selective, strategic, focused. And brutally quick.
Knowing that at least Mrs. Said thought I looked fuckable, I was feeling better as we rolled towards the club where the private pretty-people party was being held. We decided to grab a light dinner at a tapas place nearby and we were treated to not one but two bachelorette parties going on at neighboring tables. We both love people watching. I caught myself sitting there looking at the other patrons thinking “What are you guys doing tonight? We’re going to see if we can stir up some synchronized infidelity tonight.” I get a happy, giddy feeling – like we are really getting away with something significantly taboo – when I think about our swinging activities. Will we “get away” with it long term? I feel confident but I am also aware that some say it can damage your primary relationship. I hope and believe that we communicate well enough to recognize trouble as it develops and quit any damaging behavior before destruction sets in.
Back to the happy, carefree story. We pulled up to club, showed our licenses to the bouncer (I wear ties that are of legal drinking age for chrissake) and walked into the private room where the party was happening. We were welcomed and introduced around a bit to a couple of the hosts. From there we grabbed drinks and started to people-watch. Two things were immediately obvious: 1. Many – if not most – people knew each other already. 2. With a large enough base, you can construct a portable stripper pole that won’t tip over.
After an awkward 30 minutes or so where I treated Mrs. Said to white-guy-dancing-in-place punctuated with smiles and “hi’s ” as people mingled, a couple walked over and struck up a conversation. L&S had been to a few of these parties and introduced us to some of their friends. Lots of flirting, dancing, rubbing, grinding – none of it any more risqué than the dark corner of a high school dance. It was obvious to me that Mrs. Said and S were mutually attracted. I’m one of those guys who think two women dancing is very erotic as long as it isn’t some fake-lesbian show for the boys. When the attraction is real and organic, it shows. And it is hawt.
L&S had a friend, N, show up with his new girlfriend, K. N is a life-of-the-party kind of guy – a little quirky and goofy but completely comfortable working the room and setting people at ease. When he found out that the Saids were newbies, he set out to break us in by arranging every possible combination and permutation of 6 sweaty, dancing bodies. The feeling of several strangers’ hands on my body is simply exhilarating. The sight of it on my wife’s body is sublime.
We went into the evening simply hoping to meet some like-minded folks we would click with – a peer group of swingers, if you will. We were having a great time, but it was getting late – about 2 hours past our typical night out – so Mrs. Said told S “We’d like to give you our number so we could get together some time.” That is when S filled us in on a little condo party N was planning as an after-party. I am 40-something. It’s 1:30 in the morning. And we are going to an after-party. Sunday’s gonna be rough.
N walks up, shakes my hand and says “Great to meet you!” and in the 300 millisecond break I think “Damn, I thought we were going to…” then he mumbled in my ear “See you at my place.” Evidently he didn’t want the other party guests to know he was taking home a small party to play without them.
We followed L&S to N’s condo and in short order everyone was naked and headed to the hot tub. Without providing a blow-by-blow description of events, suffice it to say the evening progressed in a very satisfying manner. As he had at the club, N was an extraordinary host making everyone feel comfortable. Between the Saids and N’s girlfriend, there were 3 newbies and 3 experienced swingers. Whereas our prior experience had been an all-out, viciously aggressive take-down, last night had a pace and intensity that gradually built up with great, honest-to-goodness kissing (as opposed to the porn-kiss style of darting tongues covered in another post), caressing, fondling.
Mrs. Said got one of these (happily) in the hot tub:
After a while in the tub, we moved inside. Everyone was standing around the kitchen when I went to the bathroom to take a leak. When I came out everyone was gone. I didn’t hear a sound so I looked in the most logical place. First bedroom I came to presented me with three beautiful women laying side-by-side on their backs, ready to be serviced by their mates. From that warm-up, we progressed gradually from each-with-his-mate intercourse to a writhing pile of women and men. To diagram it would look like some kind of genetic code. MF MF MF morphed into MF MFFM, to MFFFM, to MF FF, etc. Mrs. Said got to go down on the first woman she was genuinely, enthusiastically attracted to and in a position to move on that attraction. Watching the two of them kiss in the hot tub was one of the most beautifully erotic things I have ever seen.
After quite a long time of this fun, L&S left us and N&K to continue. I don’t know if it was the extended hot tub time, genuine exhaustion, or my reptile brain going on sensory-overload shutdown, but in the midst of incredibly erotic group sex, I was having a hard time staying erect.
We came close to full-swapping (i.e. intercourse), but L&S left just as Mrs. Said and I were whisper-discussing taking that big step. After they left, we offered Mrs. Said to N but he politely declined since K, being both new to the lifestyle and a new girlfriend, was soft-swap only. We left the evening with a lower-than-anticipated orgasm count (Mrs. Said got close a few times but couldn’t quite get there), but we were walking on air having supplanted the somewhat-jarring memory of the previous weekend with a wonderful experience with several folks we hope to see again!
Our first swapping experience last weekend didn’t stir any feelings of jealousy on my part. Even seeing my wife with another man’s junk in her mouth didn’t bother me. I thought this time might be a little different because I knew she was genuinely attracted to our play partners. When we first talked of swinging, my gut reaction was that I would be incredibly jealous seeing her with others. In practice, the sight of her pleasing and being pleased is oddly satisfying. Titillating, sure. But it is deeper than that for me. I feel very confident in our long-standing connection so I hold no significant feeling of being threatened by another’s affection for my wife. Rather, I am gratified by any experience from which Mrs. Said receives pleasure. I can easily see us going ‘same room full swap’ in swinger parlance. I could probably get comfortable with ‘different room full swap’ because it would allow me to concentrate solely on one person rather than a pile of writhing bodies. I haven’t quite wrapped my mind around ‘permission slip’ sex where each partner can go off and find sex separately. It may seem like an odd place to draw the boundary, but that mode strikes me as falling in the cheating category rather than the symmetrical fooling around-but-together stuff we are doing.
On the way to pick the kids up this morning from their grandparents’ house, Mrs. Said and I both giggled several times at the thought of “If they only knew.” In terms of percentages, swingers are reputed to be a small minority. But if you look around your neighborhood, your church, your fitness class, there’s a decent chance there is one nearby. It might even be us….