Swing!
Adventures in Swinging by Today’s Top Erotica Writers
Edited by Jolie du Pré
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ISBN: 978-1905091-17-1
Digital versions
Published by Logical-Lust Publications © 2009
Cover image by Helen E. H. Madden, pixelarcana.com
© Logical-Lust Publications 2009
Swing! Adventures in Swinging by Today’s Top Erotica Writers is a collection of works of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents are entirely the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, transmitted, or recorded by any means whatsoever, including printing, photocopying, file transfer, or any form of data storage, mechanical or electronic, without the express written consent of the publisher. In addition, no part of this publication may be lent, re-sold, hired, or otherwise circulated or distributed, in any form whatsoever, without the express written consent of the publisher.
To all swingers, the world over . . .
Preface
You live one life. During your life you should set goals and work to achieve them. One of my goals as an erotica writer was to produce a quality swinging erotica anthology and now—here it is! This is a goal I’m very proud of, because as the title suggests, Swing! Adventures in Swinging by Today’s Top Erotica Writers contains stories by some of the best erotica writers around.
Why a swinging erotica anthology? Swinging has been a part of my married life for a number of years. Like most swingers, my husband and I have a strong, successful union and also, a positive attitude about sex. Swinging is a pleasurable experience that enhances our relationship rather than takes away from it.
What is swinging? Swinging is non-monogamous sexual activity. Your partner may be present in the activity or he or she may be absent. The main thing to remember is that swinging is not cheating. Swinging happens with the consent of your partner.
Some people assume that swinging only occurs at swing clubs. Wrong. Some people also assume that swinging is only for straight, married couples. Wrong again. Swinging can come about in a variety of situations: at a swing club, at a home, with straight people, with gay people, and on and on. That’s one of the things I love about Swing! It’s a diverse collection.
There are 25 erotic stories in Swing! So sit back, relax and enjoy everything that Swing! has to offer.
Jolie du Pré
Chicago, 2009
Introduction
Swinging 101
I’ve entitled this section “Swinging 101” because it’s the one-hundred-and-first attempt I’ve made to begin this introduction.
The first few tries were attempts to tell you, dear reader, all about swinging. I gave up on that direction after a dozen false starts because it occurred to me, if you’re reading the introduction for this anthology, you’ve probably got a good idea of what swinging entails.
Then I started trying to talk about the “taboo” of swinging. The taboo of swinging is, I think, an important element in the whole swinging experience. What can be sexier than the idea that you’re doing something naughty and forbidden?
The taboo is born from several sources: first and foremost being the connotations of adultery that are associated with swinging. The idea of adultery is anathema to most couples. Extra-marital sex often precedes the beginning of the end within many monogamous marriages. And yet there are couples—lots of couples—who swing and combine their happy marriages with all the various infidelities that would undoubtedly drive a non-swinging couple to the divorce courts.
While researching swinging for my last two non-fiction titles, I spoke with many couples who had been swinging for a long length of time and the general attitude seemed to be: how can it be adultery if both parties in a relationship know what’s going on?
This rationale made sense to me. My understanding of adultery and infidelity involves one (or both) partners doing something without the other’s knowledge. If Mr. and Mrs. Smith pop next door to have a four-way with Mr. and Mrs. Jones–all four of them sharing the experience and every one of them knowing exactly what the other is doing–has anyone really been unfaithful or adulterous?
I don’t think so.
But that seemed like rather a long and laborious point to make at the beginning of an introduction, and there was no chance of my getting any good gags in there, so I abandoned that idea.
I contemplated writing about the taboo of promiscuity in general. Popular culture, from the Bible through to Harlequin Mills & Boon, has repeatedly insisted that monogamy, fidelity and chastity are the cornerstones of our civilized society. How can society continue to exist if there are swingers out there flouting the laws of morality by enjoying a diverse and alternative sex life? Surely, if these hedonists continue to live their lives by such a libertine ethos, the fabric of existence is likely to crumble, tear, and disintegrate.
But I dismissed that style of opening because it came across as being too heavy on irony.
I made a dozen attempts to write about how swinging works for some and doesn’t work for others. I made a dozen more attempts to write about how the mechanics of swinging can vary from the soft swinging options of one tentative couple to the orgiastic hardcore experiences of another. But none of those ways into this introduction seemed to say exactly what I wanted to say. And, while all of those issues are pertinent to the stories in this book, none of those approaches seemed to stress the point I wanted to make.
It’s taken a hundred previous attempts for me to realize that what I want to say can be summed up with the word “diversity”—and that’s what I should be talking about in this introduction.
Aside from the unifying theme of swinging, the theme of diversity is common to all the stories in this collection. The stories in this collection contain interludes between men and women and women and men. There are stories involving couples and single women, couples and single men and couples with other couples. There are straight characters, gay characters, lesbian characters and bisexual characters. There are stories of solo performances, one-on-one exchanges, swapping, threesomes, foursomes and more. There are vanilla encounters, sweetened by the flavor of breaking a taboo, and there are harsh BDSM scenarios packed with punishing, painful pleasures. There are love and hate, pain and pleasure, doubt and certainty, elegance and vulgarity and upset and satisfaction. This anthology is, in short, a celebration of all the sexual diversity that is swinging.
The diversity in this anthology does not just extend to the mechanics of sex or the sexual predilections of the characters involved. It also extends to the division of fantasy and reality that plays such an integral part in the lives of most swingers. I’ve previously described members of the swinging community as ordinary people with extraordinary sex lives. The broad range of characters in this collection could be fairly described in the same fashion.
If you’re reading this introduction prior to dipping into the stories, I can assure you that you’re in for a rare treat. Jolie du Pré has managed to collect fiction from a talented team of authors (I’m unashamedly including myself in that number), and they’ve each approached the theme of swinging from their own specific understanding of the subject. Again, because everyone’s understanding of swinging is slightly different, this means the theme of dive
rsity is reinforced from each different perspective and with every variation in the authorial voice.
Jolie’s story, Before the Move, exemplifies all that I’ve been trying to say about how diverse the experience of swinging can be for each individual.
There is a chasm of difference separating the two couples in Jolie’s story. Their attitudes toward what they share show two opposite extreme ends of the swinging experience. The characters in Jolie’s story are the epitome of ordinary people with extraordinary sex lives.
I’ve been told it’s the job of a good introduction to introduce the reader to the forthcoming stories and authors–like the host at a party would introduce newcomers to those who are already in attendance. If that’s what this introduction is supposed to do, then I’ll do it in the time-honored fashion of all the best swing parties: “We’re happy to have you here. Feel free to leave your inhibitions behind you and make the most of all the wonderful experiences that lay ahead. I’m sure you’re going to enjoy yourself.”
Ashley Lister
England, 2008
Contents
Preface
Introduction
Movements, by Michael Hemmingson
Bravery Has Its Rewards, by Jacqueline Applebee
Unpacking an Adventure, by TreSart L. Sioux
What We Do, by Emerald
The Twenty-Minute Rule, by Ashley Lister
The Gerswins, by Keeb Knight
Costume Party, by Sage Vivant
Plato’s Retreat, by Karmen Red
John Updike Made Me Do It, by Donna George Storey
Initiation, by Rick R. Reed
The Best of Friends, by M. Millswan
Premises, by Lara Zielinsy
Just Desserts, by Tawanna Sullivan
Bob & Carol & Ted (But Not Alice), by M. Christian
Quick-Fix, by Jolene Hui
Careful What You Wish For, by D. L. King
Caught in the Act, by Beth Wylde
Check and Mate, by Jeremy Edwards
Ghost Swinger, by Amanda Earl
The Swing Set, by Rowan Elizabeth
The Party, by Neve Black
Our First Encounter, by Randall Lang
One Weekend in Toronto, by Claudia Moss
Dez Moinez, by Alicia Night Orchid
Before the Move, by Jolie du Pré
About the Authors
About the Editor
Acknowledgments
More books by Logical-Lust
Movements
By Michael Hemmingson
I. SUITE FOR AN END TO A MARRIAGE
The first time I saw my wife fucking another man, she was by our Jacuzzi the night of The Party. I was fairly convinced it would be the last party we’d throw as husband and wife.
Actually, she was with two men. One was a fellow I didn’t know and he was fucking her from behind—his large, hairy hands tightly grasping her hips in an attempt to control the backward thrust of her pelvis as if she were a wild animal. The other one (my best friend) had his dick in her mouth. She was taking this dick down her throat pretty deep, and he was no bigger than me. She never did that for me. Maybe she never liked my dick; and this is something I could believe, given the recent sour circumstances of our marriage.
“I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore,” she told me three months ago. I was trying to have sex with her. Her pussy was dry. Finally, she pushed my hand away and said she didn’t want to. We hadn’t made love in quite a while.
“What do you mean?”
“Is it hard to understand?” she said. “How can I illustrate it any better? I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.”
“I see,” I said.
“No,” she said, “you don’t.”
We tried the marriage counselor routine, and that only proved to drive us further apart, snickering at all the flowery, New Age suggestions the counselor was trying to sell us.
“What a fucking waste of money,” my wife said.
Her name is Beryl, by the way.
* * *
I stood there, looking out the kitchen window, and watched Beryl fuck. The one who was my best friend, his name is Art.
I wasn’t surprised. The night seemed to be heading for this. Beryl was on the war path to have sex with someone—other than me.
“I’m feeling frisky tonight,” she said when she pulled me aside during The Party.
She was drunk. I told her so.
“So I’m drunk,” she said, “and I’m feeling good.”
I wasn’t feeling good. “Thanks for the information.”
“I just want you to know,” she said, “that I might do something wild. I might do something sexy, and I don’t want you to get in the way.”
“I won’t,” I said.
“I don’t want you to get in the way of my being happy.”
“I won’t,” I said.
It started, I suppose, with her dance—or striptease. She put on some electronic music, the kind that gives me a headache. I don’t know where she got this music. She began to dance, and had an audience of men cheering as she lifted her skirt and flashed her panties, and then she opened her blouse and exposed her tits. She had small, pointed, brown breasts. She was a tall, slender woman with long legs and tanned skin and straight blonde hair, a very appealing woman to many men.
“That’s some wife of yours!” someone said to me, slapping me on the back.
“Yeah,” I said.
Beryl had stripped down to her thong. Drunken hands groped for her. One pair of hands belonged to Art. Beryl giggled, ran out back, and jumped into the Jacuzzi.
Watching her fuck, I knew it was the hottest sight I’d ever viewed. It was better than watching a porno: this was real.
I wasn’t the only person watching, either. Several men, some I knew, some I didn’t, moved toward the threesome. I moved with them. We were all like mesmerized cattle.
* * *
Two months ago, I was sitting in a bar with Art. We were on our fourth or fifth drink.
“I think Beryl and I are getting a divorce,” I said.
“You think?” Art said.
“Probably. She doesn’t love me anymore.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“She said this.”
“Do you still love her?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I think I do.”
“What went wrong? You two used to be the happy fun couple.”
“I’m not sure . . . I think she might be having an affair.”
“You think?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her.”
* * *
When Beryl was done with Art and the man I didn’t know, she started having sex with two other men. The Party was becoming something else. Other people departed—old friends giving me strange looks. Someone said, “You didn’t say this was going to turn into an orgy.” It was past one in the morning anyway, the time most parties start winding down.
Art, with his clothes back on, passed me.
I grabbed his arm.
“Hey,” he said softly.
I just looked at him.
“We should talk,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said.
* * *
The Party was over, people were gone. Four a.m., I lay in bed, listening to my wife taking a bath. The door was unlocked. I went in. She stared at me. She was sitting in the tub, water and soap all around her. She started to say something; I held up a finger to stop her. I unzipped my pants and showed her my hard prick.
“Do you plan to do something with that?” she said.
“I have some ideas,” I said.
“You look all worked up.”
“I am that,” I said.
“I haven’t seen your dick that bulging and red since . . . since we first met.”
I approached her, my body shaking. “Did you like fucking those men tonight?”
Softly: “You know I did.”
She said: “Did you like me fucking those men?”
I grabbed Beryl’s head. I was fast and she was surprised. I pushed her face into my crotch. I bunched up her slick wet hair in my fists, like I was angry. I was more horny than angry, or a fine line that crosses both conditions. She took my cock in her mouth. I wondered how many loads of come she swallowed this evening. Mine would be just another. Beryl pulled my pants down, grabbed at the flesh of my ass, yanking me forward, so that I was partially in the water with her, getting wet . . .
* * *
In bed, I asked her how long she’d been fucking Art. I knew that tonight wasn’t the first time—the way they were with each other: that familiarity of the body. Beryl said, “For a while now.”
II. SONATA FOR A NEW PHASE IN MARRIAGE
The three of us were in the Jacuzzi. This was inevitable, this had to happen; I knew it, Beryl knew it, Art knew it.
We’d had dinner. It was a quiet dinner. I savored every bite of the mushroom sautéed chicken Beryl had prepared, the scalloped potatoes that reminded me of being a child and eating mother’s well-cooked meals. It was a warm night. Beryl suggested we relax in the Jacuzzi, drink wine. Art wanted beer. Beryl drank wine. We got naked, acting like excited, modest teenagers doing something daring and naughty, and went into the water.
It was a clear night out, a lot of stars.
I was also drinking wine.
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