Swinging by a Thread: The Misadventures of an Accidental Swinger

by Audra Morgan

  A few minutes went by, and we were once again in our own little groove when all of the sudden a cock appeared over my face. Feeling like I was being dive-bombed, I opened my mouth in shock. Bad move. After a minute or so of a sudden, non-consensual blow job, with me pinned down on the mattress not having a clue what to do, and Tyler staring in utter shock at the turn of events, Tyler grabbed me and pulled me away from the guy. It was at that point that we decided it was in our best interest to get the hell out of that room. Of course, we’d chosen to “hide” at the back corner, so our retreat from the horror of the group room involved climbing over and around twenty or more naked people, most of whom we didn’t want to see naked at all, much less have to rub bodies with as we made our escape.

  We still attend this same club, and we always warn newcomers that it’s an understood “rule” that in the group room, anything goes. In all other areas of the club, though, it is strictly against policy to touch anyone without asking first. It is also against policy to open the curtains covering the private room doors, or to open the doors to the private rooms when they are occupied. It’s a pretty obvious convention that if a couple wants others to join in, they leave the curtains or doors open. This serves as a clear message that other couples or singles are welcome to enter the room, and possibly to join their fun. On the other hand, closed curtains and doors are a pretty damned clear signal that strangers are not welcome. This very simple, straightforward concept unfortunately seems completely lost on far too many swing club patrons.

  I have had uninvited hands grab me on several occasions while at the club, and while I’m able to laugh it off at this point, it can be much more daunting to newcomers. It’s also incredibly frustrating when a couple is in a private or semi-private room, either alone or with friends, and is inflicted with a barrage of unwanted visitors who feel they can open the curtain or door and join in without being invited. This phenomenon is exponentially worse on nights that single men are allowed to visit a club.

  The worst of the worst is the single male interloper. He doesn’t seem to have any friends at the club, nor does he possess the social skills necessary to make friends. Instead, he lurks about, watching and waiting for someone to get naked, for some action to take place, so he can attempt to get as close as possible to it, whether that’s desired or not. And 99 times out of 100, it is most assuredly not desired. Tyler and I have been at the swing club many times, simply drinking and talking to each other, as one or more men stare intently at us and become increasingly frustrated that we have the audacity to sit there and talk, rather than get naked for their viewing pleasure. We’ve also had men literally bang on the locked door to a private room we’ve entered; do they actually think that behavior will garner them an invitation to join us? One of the funniest examples of the single male intruder did not happen to us, but was something we witnessed from the hallway across from the row of semi-private rooms.

  We were at the club on a weeknight several years ago, and on that particular night it seemed as though the single guys were literally crawling out of the woodwork. There were maybe six couples present at the busiest point of the night, and at least twenty men were wandering about, looking for something to make their exorbitant door fee worthwhile. Around midnight, a nice-looking couple retreated to one of the semi-private rooms and proceeded to get naked and begin having sex. Two single men, who didn’t seem to know each other, converged at the closed curtain blocking their entry to the room in which the couple was engaging in some rather loud sex acts. One of the men was wearing a t shirt and heather grey sweatpants. This was, by the way a flagrant violation of the dress code, and his inclination to break rules clearly didn’t end with his sweatpants. With one hand, he held the curtain open, and with his other hand, he began masturbating furiously. Strangely enough, this sight didn’t deter the other man, who stood his ground right next to the sweatpants-wearing masturbator.

  Tyler and I sat across the hall from this scene and watched it play out. The couple seemed blissfully unaware of the atrocity taking place in their doorway, and the man continued hanging onto the curtain and jerking off. He must have gotten really into his bout of self-pleasuring, because at one point he lost his balance in the heat of the moment and fell forward, nearly collapsing into the bed, on top of the naked couple. Fortunately for all involved, his grip on the curtain kept him mostly upright. He regained his balance and got the hell out of there, and the other man remained, figuring he may as well finish watching the show. Since that night, we are always acutely aware of anyone who might be peering through the curtains at us. I have no problem whatsoever telling someone to get the hell away if they even touch the curtain. The last thing we need when we’re trying to enjoy ourselves is a fat, sweatsuit clad man falling onto us with his hand on his dick. What a mood-killer!

  Chapter Seven

  Swinging into a Straightjacket, or When You’re Just too Damned Crazy for This Shit

  As I have already mentioned, swinging tends to amplify personalities and relationship issues. Well, when you’re already batshit crazy, that can be a huge problem. We’ve interacted with singles and couples in the swinger scene who would be better suited to a mental institution than a swing club; sometimes it’s highly entertaining, and sometimes it’s downright sad. Every great once in a while, it’s absolutely terrifying.

  We met a single woman named Kat for drinks one night; she was nice, and fairly good-looking, but she just wasn’t someone we felt we were interested in physically. We wished her well after a few hours of drinks and conversation, and we went on with our lives. A few weeks later, we ran into a female friend of ours, and as it turned out, she and Kat had recently met and become friends. Our mutual friend grilled us on why we hadn’t wanted to “play” with Kat, and what we felt was wrong with her. We simply said she was nice, but we weren’t interested. A month or so later, we were at a club we didn’t normally attend. It was Valentine’s Day, and the club was having a special party. We were there with a few friends, drinking and people-watching from a sofa, when Kat and our other friend walked in. They had clearly been drinking and enjoying the night, as we had. Kat approached Tyler, dropped to her knees in front of him, and began flirting heavily with him. He was friendly, but made it clear he wasn’t interested. She tried repeatedly to take him upstairs to the play area, but he politely declined. She stormed off in a huff, and that was the last time we ever spoke to her.

  Since then, we’ve seen Kat at our regular club numerous times, always on nights single men are allowed. She usually shows up alone, immediately strips down to nothing, and prances about, hoping for the attention of anyone who might see her. One night, she arrived with a large bag full of vibrators and dildos. She hopped up onto the bar, stripped, and began to use a vibrator on herself as the other club members sat and tried to enjoy their drinks. I’m sure a few of the patrons appreciated the show, but most of us wished she’d taken her “act” to the second floor. It smacked of desperation and of a pathological need for attention and acceptance. We began to understand why she was so offended when we turned her down, and why she didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer.

  This sort of crazy is certainly not restricted to single women; there are single men that seem to have similar issues. One night we were at the club on a Friday night, celebrating Tyler’s birthday. It was a holiday weekend, so there was an unusually large crowd, and many more couples than normally attended on Fridays. Around ten o’clock, a quiet, conservative looking man arrived and sat at the bar near us. We hardly noticed him until he disappeared into the restroom, then reappeared wearing only a smiley face g string. No shoes, no socks, no anything but a g string with a bright yellow smiley face in the front. He sat back down at the bar as if nothing unusual was happening, and he ordered a Coke.

  Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with what the average party-goers at a swing club wear, let me fill you in. Women wear anything from nice tops and jeans, to sundresses, to skimpy-as-hell dresses with mile-high heel
s. Men generally wear nice jeans or pants and polo shirts or button up dress shirts. Everyone tends to remain mostly clothed until they enter the play areas, at which point they may or may not undress. In some clubs around the country, members are required to disrobe and wear only a towel when they enter the play areas; however, in most clubs, this is not the case, and people are more than welcome to remain fully clothed unless they are engaging in some sexual fun. I have never witnessed a man walking around unclothed just for the hell of it in the five years I’ve been attending swing club events. And I have certainly never seen another man in a smiley face g string.

  Mr. Smiley finished his Coke, then he wandered around the first floor, garnering stares of shock and awe from everyone who passed him. I’m not sure if that was his goal, but if it was, he surely achieved it. He then went upstairs and walked up and down the halls, just enjoying the response he received from everyone there. Once he was done making the rounds, he got dressed and left. Now, neither he nor our desperate single friend were hurting anyone with their eccentricities, and they have the right to embrace their crazy just like the rest of us. Sometimes, though, the crazy is more insidious, and it does cause harm to others.

  A year or so into our swinging adventures, we received an email from a very nice, attractive couple named Jonathan and Melinda. They’d been searching for that “perfect couple” for a year, but they hadn’t found anyone they were truly interested in. For some reason, they’d decided we were “the ones”, and they expressed an interest in coming to town to meet us. We were flattered, and after communicating with them for a few weeks, we were tremendously excited about the opportunity to meet a couple with whom we seemed quite compatible. They made their travel plans, we agreed on a restaurant at which to meet, and we anxiously awaited the weekend.

  With much anticipation, we met them for dinner, and we had an amazing time talking and getting to know them. Jonathan and Melinda were intelligent, attractive, and quite fun to be around, and we were absolutely certain it would be a great night. After dinner, we all went to the club; it was a crowded night, and several of our friends were there as well. We all talked, drank, danced, flirted, and had a fabulous time. We hadn’t assumed anything physical would take place, since we had just met them that evening, and since they seemed to have a rather cautious approach to things. To our surprise, around two o’clock in the morning, Jonathan suggested we make our way to their hotel room across the street. We gladly agreed, and we made the very short walk to their hotel as we continued talking and laughing about various moments of the night thus far.

  Once we arrived at their room, things progressed quickly, and within minutes we were naked and in bed. Tyler and Melinda seemed to have amazing chemistry, and in no time they were going at it like teenagers; they were all over each other, and it was a delight to watch. I quickly realized, however, that things were not quite the same for me and Jonathan. After a rather halfhearted attempt to make out with me, he began to mentally check out of the situation, and as I watched Tyler and Melinda fuck, Jonathan slowly curled up into a ball on the bed and just stared off into space, as if he’d gone into a catatonic state.

  Tyler and I were still rather inexperienced with swinging, even after a year, and I simply had no idea how to handle this turn of events. Tyler and Melinda were lost in each other and completely unaware of the “situation” on my side of the bed. Looking back, I should have simply joined them in their fun and made the best of a night-gone-awry. Instead, I just sat in the bed, my eyes ping-ponging back and forth between Tyler and Melinda fucking madly on one side of the bed, and Jonathan on the other side, who by all accounts looked positively dead. When Tyler and Melinda finished, we told her goodbye and got the hell out of there as quickly as humanly possible. I explained what had happened on the way home, and Tyler was mortified. He felt terrible about not being aware of the situation, and we learned from that experience that no matter how much fun we’re having, we need to be completely mindful of each other and what’s going on.

  We learned quite some time later that Melinda and Jonathan were divorced, and that Jonathan was incarcerated for committing a rather bizarre felony. I don’t want to mention the details, but it was definitely a case of truth being far stranger than fiction. It’s also an indicator of how terribly difficult it can be to get an accurate impression of someone through weeks of emails and a night of drinking and talking. We’d have never guessed our night would turn out like it did, and we surely wouldn’t have guessed that his life would take the turn it did a few years later. You just truly never know what craziness might ensue when you meet new people.

  Chapter Eight

  Swinging into a Restraining Order, or Swinging with a Side of Stalking

  Speaking of never knowing what craziness might ensue, we met one guy who somehow became an ongoing theme in our lives for over two years, much to our dismay, and to the dismay of others with whom he interacted along the way. Sometimes first impressions can fail you, and sometimes they can literally throw you under a bus. When dealing with a sociopath who knows exactly how to present himself to the world, and just what to say to get what he wants, first impressions will never do the trick in helping you avert disaster.

  We met up with yet another couple from out of town; they were brand new to swinging, and fairly new to each other as well. Julie was recently out of an abusive marriage in which she was also cheated on, and Adam was recently divorced as well, from an ex-wife who he informed us was completely insane. We met Julie and Adam for dinner, and we found Adam to be charming, intelligent, funny, and sincere. Julie was quiet, letting Adam do most of the talking, but she was also a genuinely sweet person. By the end of dinner, Tyler and I both felt like we had made new friends. We moved on to drinks and a walk around town with them, and the conversation continued to flow smoothly. We had a great time hanging out and getting to know them, and we made plans to meet up with them again.

  Tyler and I talked after our night out with Julie and Adam, and we both agreed that while they were great people whose company we enjoyed, we weren’t interested in a physical relationship with them. We let them know, and they seemed fine with just keeping it friendly. We were relieved that they didn’t take offense, and we made plans to attend a party in another city with them. They said they were bringing another couple with them, and we were glad to know that there wouldn’t be any unexpected pressure.

  On the day of the party, Tyler and I checked into a hotel nearby, then we met Julie and Adam for dinner. They had brought their friends, Marcia and Alan, and we had a great time getting to know them over dinner. After dinner, Adam pulled me aside and whispered, “We’re not interested in them physically. Just letting you know.” I was taken aback by this comment, not sure why he felt the need to fill me in on this detail. I shrugged it off, though, and we returned to our hotel room to change for the party.

  The party was a heaping pile of drama that, among other things, involved Julie bursting into tears and sobbing uncontrollably in the corner as Marcia attempted to calm her down. Julie and Adam ended up leaving the party very early, and Adam looked extremely angry when they departed. Marcia and Alan remained, and we hung out with them and enjoyed the rest of the night. After that, the four of us became friends, and we saw them out once a month or so. Marcia and I talked on the phone regularly and met up with my other friends for lunch, movies, and other daytime outings. Tyler and I didn’t hear much from either Julie or Adam after the party, and we were just fine with that. We’d decided there seemed to be some issues that weren’t readily apparent when we first met, and we wanted no part of whatever their problems might be.

  A few months later, Tyler and I decided to have dinner and go to the club on a weeknight, which we rarely did due to early morning work obligations. We posted a note online that we were heading there, as we sometimes did when we went out; it was nice to let our friends know where we’d be, in case they might want to hang out. Sometimes, though, that plan backfires. Tyler and I arrived at the cl
ub, and within minutes of our arrival, in walked Julie and Adam. We were quite surprised to see them there on a weeknight, as they both worked, and they lived about an hour and a half away. Adam casually mentioned seeing our post about going out, and we couldn’t help wondering if that had anything to do with their impromptu out of town trip.

  Over the next hour, Adam began to creep us out with stories of their sexual exploits, which he told in such a way that it seemed he was trying to lure us into something physical with them. We shrugged it off, but red flags were shooting up all around the both of them. Something wasn’t right. Tyler and I excused ourselves from the conversation, and we went upstairs and attempted to enjoy ourselves alone. After an incredibly uncomfortable experience in which Adam followed us into the room we had “escaped” to and tried to force a sexual encounter between me and Julie, Tyler and I ended our night early and went home. We vowed to ignore any future attempts Adam made to communicate with us in any way.

  Quite some time passed, and we forgot Adam and Julie existed. They lived in another city, and we hadn’t seen them make any more appearances at the club we frequented. One day, however, my phone rang, and it was our mutual friend Marcia. She was quite upset, and she was speaking so quickly and passionately I almost couldn’t keep up with her. She was calling to inform me that Adam and Julie had broken up. Marcia and Julie had become very close, and Julie explained to Marcia that she had never had any interest in swinging, and that Adam had pretty much told her she had to if she wanted to be with him. Knowing that Julie had just gotten out of a relationship with a cheating, abusive husband when she met Adam, I found this revelation particularly disturbing. It definitely confirmed any suspicions we’d formed about him, and we were glad to have him out of our lives.