Swinger Initiation Stories
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Swinger Initiation Stories
About Our First Time… Her Story Published by Adrienne on
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I received a text to ask to pick up the kids. I was heading that way anyway so was happy to help. He texted back something funny which I found quite random and funny. This reserved dude was actually quite entertaining. A side I wanted to see a bit more of.
He text me again and I answered. This lasted during the night, not at all what i was expecting. I figured he was on the juice as it was golf night. The next day i received a morning text from him, I didn’t reply straight away but he kept texting until I replied. We texted all day and again through the night. I was actually in bed when I told him I was watching TV. I wasn’t but wanted to see if he would come around.
I was dressed in my favourite attire – my dressing gown and passion killer PJs.
It was actually quite late but he made the effort to come over so I offered him a beer. We chatted for ages and I cant recall ever watching the TV. I may have looked at the TV but I was nervous.
I moved closer to him. I’ve never made the first move EVER and I didnt know how this would be received. Hmmm he noticed but still nothing. I didn’t know whether he felt the same thing. I knew he had slept with another person so I initially thought that I wasn’t his type or was too ugly for him.
However I did know we were comfortable talking to each other. Time was getting on and he said he should get going. I actually was secretly gutted and thought it was now or never. He was by the door and I leaned in and kissed him.
Oh my fucking god, it wasn’t returned. I had never felt such embarrassment in my life.
I felt my face flush and sat on the couch. He came in and I asked him to leave. I asked him to leave a few times and he just stood there. My world got soooo small I wanted to crawl into a little hole and die.
He came over to me and tried to talk to me, thank fuck it was dark, my face was burning with embarrassment.
He came over to me and said are you sure you know what you are getting yourself into. I said I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t know what I was getting into. He stood me up, my face was looking at the ground. He lifted my chin and my eyes met his he leaned into me and kissed me. I returned the kiss, his lips were full and he kissed with passion. The feeling of rejection miles away but the thought of him just doing it to please me still lingered. We kissed for a while and his hands wandered through my body.
I knew my PJ’s were soaked from my juices flowing.
He knew what he was doing, his hands and lips touching and caressing every part of me. He fondled my nipples. I found it quite pleasurable considering i thought i had no sexual feeling in them anymore. He took me places i hadn’t felt in a while and he hadn’t even touched me there yet.
He pulled down my pants and felt the wetness, again I was embarrassed. My scent was strong. He spread my legs apart and through the matted bush he found my clit, his head went in exploring my sensitive bits. He was only there for a short period as I knew I was about to come and I needed him inside me….
I came…..
My body was sooooo sensitive that I couldn’t let him touch me. He probably thought I was weird. My body still convulsing, he is looking confused, he didn’t do anything wrong, he did everything right.
I calmed down and was able to clearly see his body, I wanted to touch all of him – I did…..
His body was beautiful, from his head down. He was circumcised as well. My hands ran down his body, he was hard. I fondled his nipples and he sighed, yusss I knew he had a sensitive spot. My hands went further down his body.
We were on the couch and he put his cock inside me. He was strong and gave me his all. I loved every stroke he gave me. I moved my body with his, enveloping his cock. He had already made me cum and my juices were still flowing. He picked me up and turned me around and took me from behind.
My initial thought was “he doesn’t want to see me when he cums” I don’t think that was the case. He held my hips as he was pumping in and out. His hand reaching around and fondling me. I was blown away and thankful the kids didn’t come into the lounge. Was pretty freakn risky but it only felt like we were the only ones around and nothing else mattered.
He lifted me up, turned me around and kissed me, he then held me. I loved the fact that he spread his legs wide so i didn’t have to stand on tippy toes to cuddle him. I found him to be quite sensitive to the detail that I like. We dressed and he left.
I had no idea what just happened but it felt good. I wondered if he would talk to me the next day……
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When I first set out to write about swinging for an article about the lifestyle, the last thing I expected was to find myself nodding when a slim, curly-haired brunette asks if she may take off my panties. It’s a windy Friday night and I’m in a cozy, apartment-style swing club in Midtown Manhattan, my short, cherry-red dress folded down to my waist — all in the name of research, of course. The bartender, a curvy blonde, leans over to kiss me. My favorite black bra is on the floor. Still, I’m out-clothed only by the three men seated in chairs lined up against the walls of the tiny room, barely large enough to fit us all. Just an hour earlier, it was the smoking room, outfitted with an ashtray collecting cigarette butts next to a small television playing an ABC “20/20″ special on sexual offenders. The men, all uniformly dressed in slacks and button-downs, are quiet and make no attempts to join the three of us. It’s only when we’re interrupted by the swing club owner—”five minutes to closing,” he warns—that I notice a fourth man in the room, optimistically wearing only a condom on his penis, now half-heartedly erect.
Anywhere from 30 to 250 people, both singles and couples, can be found at swing clubs on any given night. I’m here on “Women Who Love C**k Night,” the one night a week that the club allows single, uncoupled men to attend.
One must be either penis-friendly or very assertive on such nights. Prior to finding myself entangled with these two women in front of a group of onlookers, I had spent most of my swinging evening as a broken record, repeating “thank you, no,” and “I’m just watching tonight” on a loop.
“Let me go down on you,” a tall, dark-haired single man in his 40s had pressed. “You won’t regret it.” I politely declined his advances, and his persistence annoyed me. I felt like a juicy rotisserie chicken in stilettos, spinning in a butcher-shop window: If I leaned too far into the playroom (a cozy bedroom equipped with two beds and a small cushioned viewing bench), strange male hands attached themselves to my body. Squeezed between two men in the foyer, just outside the small room where a couple sensually undressed each other, I felt a large hand on the small of my back. A different hand, belonging to the generous cunnilingus benefactor, rubbed my shoulders. I began to understand why most clubs only have one night a week, if any at all, that permit single men.
I started excusing myself to refill my drink, ducking through the crowd of men in various states of undress, to chat up the bartender. Our conversation got more flirtatious each time I returned. I wasn’t even aware I knew how to flirt with women—I’ve never had so much as a drunken girl-on-girl make-out session for the viewing pleasure of beer-guzzling frat guys. When I made my final journey to the bar, she was gone, and I followed the slack-jawed stares of the men in the room like breadcrumbs along the underground sex railroad. They lead me to the smoking room, where my new friend had made a new, now naked, friend of her own. When they spied me peeking from the doorway, they motioned me over to join them, waving me into the room like they were inviting me for tea. And just like that, I went from zero to threesome.
Forty minutes later, after gathering my undergarments and dictating my phone number to the brunette—she stores it under “NYC Swingers” in her contacts list—I make my way home.
I have yet to swing again, but if I do, I can probably get a group discount. Most of my friends have requested that I take them on a field trip to a swing club … just to watch, of course. Though, I’ll probably have to find a new partner once I’m there — I’m still waiting for the brunette to call.
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