Swinging Life Style Stories

Swinging Life Style Stories




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Swinging Life Style Stories
Early Prime Day deals & all the facts
Early Prime Day deals & all the facts
Early Prime Day deals & all the facts
Early Prime Day deals & all the facts
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Some older people like going on cruises. Others hightail it to early-bird specials. Then there are the ones who use their golden years to experiment sexually outside their relationship. Meet two such senior swingers, Mark and Deanna.
Mark and Deanna, both in their mid-fifties, got married 5 years ago. Neither has children from any prior relationships. They live in Las Vegas, Nevada, where they enjoy walking their dogs, doing puzzles, and seeing new movies on date nights. They also like going to places like The Green Door, a nearby night club that hosts various swingers' parties. To this couple, casual sex with strangers is a recreational activity just like any other.
It was Mark's idea to swing. He and Deanna had been married for 3 years, and while he was nervous to voice this desire, he thought it would be a good way to break up the monotony of marriage. He first suggested it in the midst of an intimate, candlelit dinner, but even in that setting, Deanna didn't exactly jump at the proposal. "She was kind of hesitant at first," Mark says now.
"I was a little blown away," Deanna recalls. "But with a little romance he talked me into it. I'm an open person, so for him I was willing to give it a shot because it's what made him happy."
It took nearly six months after Deanna agreed to prepare and find a suitable event for them. Mark looked online for the right venue, and both were required to get STD testing in advance - along with bringing protection, a clean bill of health was a requirement from the party organizers. With the legwork done, Mark and Deanna headed to their first swingers' party.
The mid-sized club they chose was set up like a standard cocktail party, but both were struck by the surprisingly homey vibe. Not surprisingly, however, both were still anxious. "At first, I was uncomfortable, shy, and a little nervous," Mark says. "I'm not a party girl," Deanna adds. "I don't do clubbing. I don't drink, so for me it took a bit longer to open up and talk to people." She wasn't alone though; there were actually quite a few partygoers who didn't drink. "It's not a place where everyone is drunk," Mark explains.
After surveying the scene, each zeroed in on potential partners and struck up casual conversations. "It's not like you just jump into bed," Deanna says. "You start talking to them and you get to know them a little bit." It all sounded normal enough - except for the actual topics of conversation. Normally when people first meet, discussions cover basics such as what you do and where you live. "We don't talk about any of that," Mark says, explaining that anonymity is at a premium. "Discretion is key." So what do they talk about, then? That's easy: sex. After exchanging a few pleasantries about their likes and dislikes with these new friends, Mark and Deanna headed to separate rooms for the main event.
"You book the rooms in advance," Mark explains, noting that the event space functions much like a hotel. "You get a key to a specific room for the night." Also like a hotel, some rooms are pricier than others. "The more people the room can hold and the more luxurious it is, the more you pay," Mark says, though Deanna adds that all rooms have "a radio for soft music, and a television and candles." No matter the pricing, all rooms are decidedly clean, sleek, modern and according to both Mark and Deanna, "romantic." One thing the rooms lack is a window. "They are really, really private," Deanna describes.
As Deanna and Mark drove home from that first experience, they asked each other the clichéd question: How was it for you? (Except this situation was anything but clichéd.) "We keep nothing from each other," Deanna insists. "We did talk about it because he wanted to know my feelings on it, and I wanted to know his to make sure there's no jealousy involved." Together, they decided it was something that had enjoyed and wanted to continue doing.
Within a few months, the couple had created a pattern. They go to a swingers' event every few weeks, which is frequently enough that they can now spot the "regulars," but not so frequently that they consider themselves part of that group. They're allowed to sleep with anyone they choose and don't approve of each other's partners - but they do always talk about their experiences afterward.
They attend a variety of parties. Some are limited to middle-aged people or seniors only, while others include people of a variety of ages. Deanna prefers a variety of ages, even though she's not looking to be a cougar. "Younger men don't do anything for me," she laughs.
In contrast, Mark prefers the seniors-only soiree. "The older women are more… educated," he ventures. "Experienced," Deanna suggests. "Exactly," Mark agrees.
"If one of them finishes with their partner-for-the-night before the other, he or she simply waits in the common space of the event. They always leave together and - most importantly - they never interact with any of these sex partners outside of the club. They claim this rule keeps the experience from "seeping in" to their relationship at home.
So far, their crowded sex life hasn't impacted their union negatively. If anything, "It's better," Mark says. "We're just stronger," Deanna agrees. "There is a certain strength that comes with freedom, knowing that you can do what you want." They both say that swinging helps them feel "less trapped" in their long-term relationship.
"No matter how much you love someone, things can get stale," Mark explains. "By adding other sexual partners into the mix, it keeps everything fresh - including sex with the person you're committed to. By not having such strict boundaries, we've opened up more to each other."
If there are other couples out there who want to give swinging a whirl, the pair has some advice. "Make sure that it's something that you really want to do, because jealousy can quickly creep in and tear a relationship up," Deanna warns. "You have to make sure it's something that you're comfortable with." So to each their own… except when borrowing partners.
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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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