nym on Nostr: I went to a swingers club thinking I was in for a night of casual sex and fun. They ...
I went to a swingers club thinking I was in for a night of casual sex and fun. They often say that on porn sets, everything looks great but you’re not there to smell it. What greeted me when I got in the door can only be described as the aroma of King Kong’s crotch.
There was a roughly even mix of women and men, the age group varied between probably early to mid thirties to late sixties early seventies… I wasn’t quite prepared for either the geriatric male or female form engaging in sexual activity… I mean no disrespect to older readers, but it is not pretty. Maybe it’s something you get used to, I don’t know, but to my fresh young eyes at the young age of 23, it is an image forever seared into my memory…
They had opened a new hot tub that night, which promptly sprang a leaf in the roof over the dance floor, due to the proverbial motion of the ocean caused by the senior orgy which was taking place within. One could engage or merely watch the spectacle of debauchery and not engage, I chose the latter and remained fully clothed, somewhat stunned. I was encouraged by a 60 something who pressed her naked breasts upon my buttox and fondled my package gingerly. She whispered in my ear “oh, look at what we have here, some fresh meat, my friends would love to meat you”.
I politely declined and made a bee line for the rear kitchen, (a small room where party goers could take a breather, make a cup of tea and chat about their experiences). It was flanked by a large bed made up of several mattresses laid side by side, thus also serving as a kind of orgiastic party room, a kind of curtained temple of Sodom and Gomorrah.
I sat gingerly on a leather couch and was soon joined by a gentleman who had come there with his wife. The man was also fully clothed and, I suppose, sought some reprieve and comfort in the fact that I was one of his few fully clothed comrades. He proceeded to tell me that his wife was who began the interest in the club. He said he was free to engage in the fun and frolics, she had given him permission but that he rarely engaged but got off on her sexual satisfaction administered via another man’s penis.
As I sat and drank my tea, a sort of shuffling had been taking place behind us in the orgiastic high temple. The soft sounds of a large robust man, with what I can only describe as the hairiest anus I had ever borne witness too was now bobbing it up and down, going hammer and tongs on a woman who was seemingly enjoying herself thoroughly.
I was somewhat put out at how close I was in the vicinity of such a sensual act, and the absurdity of me sitting there, fully clothed, enjoying a cup of tea and a choccy bicky was not lost on me. Upon turning my head out of morbid curiosity at the many carnal sounds now emerging from the adjoining love pit as they clearly began to reach their orgasms, the gentleman proceeded to inform me that the sounds I was now hearing were indeed those of his wife. We had been sat there, drinking tea, discussing the subjects of the day, all the while his wife was getting ploughed into the middle of next week by a man with the physical build of a pick up truck.
I decided after that to retreat outside to the smoking area. I don’t smoke usually, but found that the state of my nerves had warranted a drag. I borrowed a cigarette from a large woman, about 5ft tall. She was pleasant, fully clothed and seemed to empathise with my apparent “deer in headlights” demeanour.
She offered to brighten the evening up with a blowjob, to induct me into this hall of filth. I decided that having come this far, I might as well, and took her up on her kind offer. We went into a room, a sort of small cabin really at a height. It can’t have been that large, just big enough for two people and the inside was lined with mirrors and a leather mattress. She unbuckled my belt and proceeded to give me what would have been an outstanding performance had it not been for the many male spectators, some erect, some flaccid, one stroking and one female spectator that had now gathered around the cabin. This was apparently the observation box, one was only brought in here to be seen.
After a solid 20 minutes worth of a workout, I unfortunately found that the mental pressure of it all was too much. Alas, despite my companion’s stellar efforts, my junk would simply not work.
The entire experience gave me a renewed appreciation of pornstars and the mental gymnastics they must have to go through in order to perform, stay aroused, look sexy and be convincing, whilst also being surrounded by blokes who are all probably clothed and who are watching your performance with intensity. I applaud anyone who can maintain an erection amongst that sensory smorgasbord. Alas, I discovered that swinging was most certainly not for me.
There was a roughly even mix of women and men, the age group varied between probably early to mid thirties to late sixties early seventies… I wasn’t quite prepared for either the geriatric male or female form engaging in sexual activity… I mean no disrespect to older readers, but it is not pretty. Maybe it’s something you get used to, I don’t know, but to my fresh young eyes at the young age of 23, it is an image forever seared into my memory…
They had opened a new hot tub that night, which promptly sprang a leaf in the roof over the dance floor, due to the proverbial motion of the ocean caused by the senior orgy which was taking place within. One could engage or merely watch the spectacle of debauchery and not engage, I chose the latter and remained fully clothed, somewhat stunned. I was encouraged by a 60 something who pressed her naked breasts upon my buttox and fondled my package gingerly. She whispered in my ear “oh, look at what we have here, some fresh meat, my friends would love to meat you”.
I politely declined and made a bee line for the rear kitchen, (a small room where party goers could take a breather, make a cup of tea and chat about their experiences). It was flanked by a large bed made up of several mattresses laid side by side, thus also serving as a kind of orgiastic party room, a kind of curtained temple of Sodom and Gomorrah.
I sat gingerly on a leather couch and was soon joined by a gentleman who had come there with his wife. The man was also fully clothed and, I suppose, sought some reprieve and comfort in the fact that I was one of his few fully clothed comrades. He proceeded to tell me that his wife was who began the interest in the club. He said he was free to engage in the fun and frolics, she had given him permission but that he rarely engaged but got off on her sexual satisfaction administered via another man’s penis.
As I sat and drank my tea, a sort of shuffling had been taking place behind us in the orgiastic high temple. The soft sounds of a large robust man, with what I can only describe as the hairiest anus I had ever borne witness too was now bobbing it up and down, going hammer and tongs on a woman who was seemingly enjoying herself thoroughly.
I was somewhat put out at how close I was in the vicinity of such a sensual act, and the absurdity of me sitting there, fully clothed, enjoying a cup of tea and a choccy bicky was not lost on me. Upon turning my head out of morbid curiosity at the many carnal sounds now emerging from the adjoining love pit as they clearly began to reach their orgasms, the gentleman proceeded to inform me that the sounds I was now hearing were indeed those of his wife. We had been sat there, drinking tea, discussing the subjects of the day, all the while his wife was getting ploughed into the middle of next week by a man with the physical build of a pick up truck.
I decided after that to retreat outside to the smoking area. I don’t smoke usually, but found that the state of my nerves had warranted a drag. I borrowed a cigarette from a large woman, about 5ft tall. She was pleasant, fully clothed and seemed to empathise with my apparent “deer in headlights” demeanour.
She offered to brighten the evening up with a blowjob, to induct me into this hall of filth. I decided that having come this far, I might as well, and took her up on her kind offer. We went into a room, a sort of small cabin really at a height. It can’t have been that large, just big enough for two people and the inside was lined with mirrors and a leather mattress. She unbuckled my belt and proceeded to give me what would have been an outstanding performance had it not been for the many male spectators, some erect, some flaccid, one stroking and one female spectator that had now gathered around the cabin. This was apparently the observation box, one was only brought in here to be seen.
After a solid 20 minutes worth of a workout, I unfortunately found that the mental pressure of it all was too much. Alas, despite my companion’s stellar efforts, my junk would simply not work.
The entire experience gave me a renewed appreciation of pornstars and the mental gymnastics they must have to go through in order to perform, stay aroused, look sexy and be convincing, whilst also being surrounded by blokes who are all probably clothed and who are watching your performance with intensity. I applaud anyone who can maintain an erection amongst that sensory smorgasbord. Alas, I discovered that swinging was most certainly not for me.