Playtime – Andy’s Point of View (Cont'd)
I walk along with her, in a bit of a fog, until we reach another area. The walkway ends at the entrance to a medium-sized partitioned area, with five or six people in it, all on a large platform “bed”. They are all taking turns using three Hitachi vibrators on one woman, who is lying on the bed, out of her mind in ecstasy. The scene is straight out of a porno, but it’s REAL. And they aren’t acting. It’s possibly the most luscious and sexy scene of sexual abandon that I’ve ever seen. The sounds she is making hit me like triple-strength auditory pheromones. We watch for a moment, and I love every second, but I’m equally happy when we turn away to go find a play spot of our own, because I am SO ready for sex, I’m about to hump my wife’s leg.
We found one of the “lower level bunks” I mentioned earlier, with the illusion of some privacy, and dove in. Frankly, I don’t even remember what we did, but we were completely oblivious to anything or anybody else for quite a long while. (The following day, glancing up into the bathroom mirror in the morning, I would see the perfectly spaced puncture wounds where her fingernails pierced the skin of my chest. It’s now two weeks later as I finish writing this, and the wounds are just about healed and no longer visible. Rawr. Naughty kitty. Naughty kitty needs a spanking! Wait… I’m losing focus here. Ahem.)
Some while later, thirsty, sweaty, and grinning from ear to ear, we climb out of the lower bunk and take a break long enough to throw on clothes, and go back downstairs for some water, a rest, and to see if we can find our friends.
When we get downstairs, we see that the “midnight snack” that we were told is always set out sharply at 12:00 on play nights has been pretty well picked over – so we know it’s well past midnight. Damn… how long were we in that little lower bunk? I chuckle, and we share a plate of warm cobbler with whipped cream, still grinning, and sharing flirty grins with each other. We don’t spot our friends anywhere, but we still have a little energy left, and decide to go back upstairs for round two… or sixteen… depending on how you measure.
Ditching our clothes in the locker room – and bringing towels this time – we head back upstairs. Once again we leave our clothes in the locker room, and carrying our towels, we walk through the second floor play space, then decide we want to see what the third floor is like… the floor where unescorted men are not allowed.
My gorgeous ‘escort’ takes me up the stairs, where the first thing we come across is a wooden fucking table, complete with restraint straps to hold wrists and ankles spread wide. (Hey! Now we’re talking MY kind of kink!) There are more bunk-style arrangements, another wide-open play pit area, and another large room with a sex swing and a few other toys.
I desperately want to throw her onto the fucking table, buckle the restraints, and fuck her senseless – but a couple things keep me from doing so. First, we’re still buzzing a bit from the wine. BDSM on unfamiliar equipment, while not completely sober, seems like a recipe for heartache to me. Second, I’m still not quite feeling the wide-open exhibitionism thing – and the fucking table is in full view of the entire damn floor. So, instead, we climb up onto an upper bunk this time, very close to the play pit area. It turns out to be a very good choice indeed.
A gorgeous full-bodied brunette is there in a MFM threeway, along with a male-female couple. M smiles, pushes me onto my back, and begins teasing me, as she watches the goings-on below. She whispers in my ear, “She’s sucking his cock now… it’s huge, but she’s taking it all in… and she’s loving it….she has her eyes closed, and he’s got his hand on top of her head…”[pullquote]I can hear the sounds as she sucks him off below us, and M continues to describe the scene to me as she uses her hands on my body.[/pullquote]
“They’ve turned her over now… one guy is spreading her legs… moving in…. he’s fucking her from behind now.. and she’s sucking the other guy’s cock. Oh my god, you should see her face…”
I hear the more sounds going on behind my head, a woman moaning with a full mouth, a rhythmic slapping, men speaking words of dirty encouragement… “that’s it… take him all the way in… oh fuck your cunt is so tight… yes…” Soon I’m groaning as well, as M strokes and squeezes my shaft, and gently bites at my nipples between whispers.
This goes on for a long while. There are partner changes below us – and M keeps a running commentary going for me. After a while, I just can’t stand it anymore. I get up, move behind her, push her forward onto her hands and knees, grab her hips, and bury myself deep into her, as we both watch the curvy brunette and her two men below us.
They hear M cry out in pleasure, as well as her continued moans as I fuck her from behind. The girl glances up, sees us, and immediately her sounds grow louder and more intense. Aha! We’ve struck exhibitionist!
We feed off of the sexual energy below us, and they feed off of ours… and soon it’s like a race. When the men below give the girl below a few spanks on her raised ass, her cries jump an octave, and we know she’s going to come within seconds. I hear M pleading, her own orgasm not far off, “please… please… spank me pleeeeease”. I give her several sharp spanks on each luscious ass cheek, and suddenly, we’re both on the verge of climax as well.
As I hear the girl below us cry out in rising squeals of orgasmic release, I land a vicious swat on M’s ass and, and utter a guttural command… “COME! NOW!”
A guttural growl/groan escapes my lips, and M wails loudly, as we both climax simultaneously with the girl below. In the midst of my release, a chorus of orgasmic sounds surrounds me – the world disappears into a kaleidoscopic explosion of sound and color – and the only thing in the world that matters is ramming my cock as deeply into M as I possibly can.
We cling to each other for a long moment, breathing hard and ragged, bodies heaving, until we fall over, exhausted. We cuddle for a bit, and then as we climb down and head toward the locker room, we see that the people who were below us are also getting ready to leave, exchanging hugs and promising to meet again next Saturday.
We walk, hand in hand, back to the locker room, and dress in mostly silence. By now, it’s almost 5:00am, and we’re beyond the capacity to hold much in the way of conversation. We’re drained, physically, emotionally, sexually… we’re completely spent, and in the very best of ways.
We drive to the nearby hotel, climb into bed, and sleep the sleep of the dead for about three hours, until it’s time to get up and head to the airport for our flight home.
Conclusions – Michelle’s Point of View[pullquote]All in all, I’m pretty certain that I cannot call myself a Swinger.” [/pullquote]I crave the intimacy that just doesn’t seem possible or even preferred in the Swinger community. I want a deep connection with my partner. The flirting, kissing and playing is welcome and exciting, but for me there is something missing in what most Swingers do. I’m happy that they can find contentment and satisfaction in it, and I had fun at their party, but a continuous lifestyle choice of casual sexual encounters is not for me.
Conclusions – Andy’s Point of View[pullquote]From my perspective, it was an AMAZING, positive, and highly fulfilling evening.”[/pullquote] If the occasion arose to do it again, I think I would be very interested in doing so. I don’t know that I would want to join the swing community on an active and ongoing basis… but as an occasional dalliance? Yeah. I dug it.
The two things that stand out in brightest relief from the rest of the evening, for me, are M’s casual reaction to the man who asked to touch her, and the effect that the sound of others having sex had on me. I didn’t realize how much of an auditory voyeur I was until that night. Wow. I’m a HUGE auditory voyeur, it turns out.
Okay, that’s about it. Hopefully, this little exercise will be of use to some folks, who may be contemplating their first trip to such a club, or their first tentative forays into the arena of consensual non-monogamy. We hope that we are able to give you a reasonably accurate idea of what went through our heads during the whole process.
Getting to look at each other’s stories was enlightening for us as well. It’s clear that I (Andy) am more comfortable in the swinging direction than Michelle is. So as a couple, we probably aren’t going to be jumping wholesale into a swinging lifestyle. But it’s also clear that we both had a lot of fun that night, and ended up fucking each other silly, thanks in large part to the smoking-hot sexual energy that the swing community around us was putting out. That fact didn’t go un-noticed by either of us.