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Our First Swingers Club Experience

It was my wife's birthday, and friends had gathered with us at a local restaurant to celebrate. It was an eclectic mix of friends. A few of them knew that my wife and I had started taking baby steps into some less monogamous waters. A couple of trips to strip clubs. Watching porn together. Fewer of them knew that we were reading about open marriages and polyamory, talking about what our rules might be, contemplating the possibilities. And there were some at the table who had no idea. To those, we were that sweet, well-behaved couple they occasionally see at church on Sunday.

After awhile, my wife slipped off to the bathroom with the woman who introduced us to each other 16 years ago.

When she introduced us, she was married to a fine, upstanding conservative man who ultimately wasn't what she wanted, and she divorced him a couple of years ago. Since the, she has started dating a wilder, more bohemian sort of man who has spent a number of years in the swinger lifestyle. She's the sort of friend that my wife and I both feel we could tell anything to and know she would never judge us for it.

When my wife and this friend emerged from the bathroom, they had mischievous grins on their faces.

Dinner was wrapping up. Everyone started to say their goodbyes. Our friend and her bohemian husband also got up to leave, but on the way out, she whispered in my ear, "your wife and I have a plan. this evening is just getting started." Our friends all left, and my wife came up to me in the restaurant. There was a sultry, affectionate tone in her voice. "We're going to meet at the bar across the street."

Already, the evening felt delightfully naughty. We were giving our regular friends the slip, pretending the party was over, so we could slip away to partake in some mysterious, apparently devious plans that my wife and her girlfriend had concocted.

We drove across the street and found our friend and her husband sitting at a table by the bar. My wife had informed me on the drive over that they were talking about going to a swinger's club. The husband, having previous experience in the local swinger community, had contacted some old friends and found out about a club we could go to.

We sat at the table while he explained a little about what to expect. As he talked, I could feel my heart quickening. Was this really happening? Were we really about to do this? I looked at my wife, "you really want to do this on your birthday? It sounds like the kind of thing we might do for MY birthday." But she was sure. This is what she wanted.

We left the bar, got in our cars, and drove to this club. We stopped and got liquor at a liquor store across the street from the club. In the liquor store, there were various sexy, scantily clad women wearing stilettos, fishnets, and the like, and I knew they must be headed across the street like we were. Just being in the vicinity of the club felt exhilarating.

We crossed the street, entered, filled out forms, paid money, and descended the stairs. At first, it seemed like any other club. Dance floor. Tables. Music.

Then they had a wet t-shirt contest. There were all manner of women in the contest. Large and small. Fit and not. Old and young. All of them danced, gyrated, and slowly, seductively lost their shirts. Watching them was, for me, a mixture of arousing and touching. I found it beautiful that women who were not terribly attractive could, in spite of that, get out in front of this group and celebrate their sexuality. Of course, there were also women who were very attractive, mesmerizing to watch. When they tore the wet shirts from their bodies and exposed their fabulous tits, the club erupted in thunderous cheering and whistling. It was as if a lust meter had busted from the explosion of voyeuristic energy.

After the contest, the crowd thinned out as people began to move upstairs. We had a suspicion about what we would find up there, but weren't certain, so we decided to venture up the stairs.

As we got to the top, we were met with echoes all around us - women moaning in orgasmic ecstasy. The sound was coming from all directions. It was sex in stereo as we walked down the hallways. Some doors were open and were collecting a small audience to watch the action within the room. But one room in particular had the biggest crowd.

Inside was a woman. She had a small, fit body. Her skin was tan which was especially appealing on her washboard abs. She had an attractive face that was partly covered by her long, curly, dark brown hair. And men were lining up to fuck her or have their cocks in her mouth. She was taking the men two and three at a time. After a short while, I lost count of the men and the condoms that they burned through. She was a gang bang juggernaut.

After we had been watching for awhile, my wife put her lips to my ear and whispered, "You should go over there and let her suck your cock." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My wife had been drinking, I thought. Maybe this was the alcohol talking. She'll feel much different in the morning. So, I declined. She kept insisting, but I refused saying "Let's talk about this when you are sober and see if you still think it's a good idea."

We went back downstairs for awhile, danced to the music, checked out the other attractive people on the dance floor. It had been a fun evening. Both of us had seen things we never dreamed we would see in Nashville - the "buckle of the Bible belt". If it had ended, I would have thought of it as a wonderful evening with my wife, a step closer to some sort of non-monogamy, and a great experience.

But it wasn't over.

The sex goddess who had been banging man after man upstairs came back down for a break. She walked over to a table very near ours and sat down. My wife asked again if I would go over to her. I shook my head no. "Fine," she said, and she got up and walked over to the woman. I could barely make out the conversation through the pounding vibrations of the loud music being played. My wife was pointing to me, talking to her. Then the woman got up, took my wife's hand, and they walked back over to me. Without saying anything to me, she got down on her knees in front of me.

I was shaking inside. "OMG! OMG! Oh. my. god!!!" I couldn't believe what was happening. I was scared. I was on fire with excitement. And I panicked. "Wait!" I put my hands on the woman's shoulders before she could get my pants unzipped. "We're not ok with vaginal sex." She responded, "Listen, I am going to suck your cock until it is so hard, you are going to have to fuck her." and she pointed at my wife. "You just put your hands here" as she took my hands and placed them on the tables on either side of me. Then she unfastened my pants, pulled my cock out, and started sucking it.

She had my cock in one hand. With the other, she was slowly, softly stroking my wife's leg. She curled her fingers so that her nails drug across my wife's skin, just grazing them, not baring down. The touch of her nails moving across the soft skin of my wife's leg was strangely erotic yet tender to me. It was as though she was making a point to demonstrate her understanding and respect for our marriage by including my wife in the physical affection of the moment. My wife, in turn, reached over and lifted up this woman's hair so that the air from the club could cool her neck while she went down on me. In a way, that was perhaps the most amazing part of it for me. My wife's compersion - seeking this woman out and then holding her hair back while she sucked my dick. And on my wife's birthday, of all days!

The woman licked my cock slowly and sensuously, as though it was covered in some kind of expensive chocolate liqueur. She caressed it, taking the head between her lips, softly sucking, then enveloping it in the warmth of her mouth. And then, without warning, she went down hard and fast - all the way. Down to the very hilt of my shaft. She took it all in her mouth. Only in porn movies had I ever seen a woman do that before. I don't know how she did it, but she did. And then she began rhythmically sliding her head up and down, bobbing on my cock, sliding her lips up and down my shaft, up to the head, and all the way back down to the hilt.

Bouncing. Bouncing. Bouncing.

The head of my penis, it seemed, was pounding against the back of her throat with each drop of her head.

Mmmph. Mmmph. Mmmph.

I could feel my cock swelling up inside her mouth. The pressure of my skin stretching tightly around the head of my cock was exquisitely pleasurable. By now, my brain was spinning from the cranial ejaculation of endorphins. I had never experienced a blow job like this.

True to her word, this woman made my dick incredibly hard. Somehow, she found the very edge of orgasm without taking me over it. She slowly let her mouth slide off the head of my cock, looked up at me with her seductive eyes, brushed her hair back, and stood up.

I was shaking. I trembled as I said "thank you" and I asked if I could hug her. She smiled and hugged my neck. I am sure that for her, mine was just another cock. But I will never forget her. She was only the third woman who has ever had my cock in her mouth. But I am confident she will not be the last.

As I put my cock back in pants, I looked around at the dance floor and whispered to my wife "I don't think we were supposed to do that down here." We both laughed. Something about breaking the perceived rules in the swinger's club made it even more hot and memorable.

End of Story