Swinging and the single woman -- part 2
My name is Jeanette and I am divorced, in my late 40s and I had just had the sexual experience I had always craved. Having discovered there were clubs for sexual adventure I searched until I found a swingers club, run by Sandy and Bill, not too far away. I planned my weekend around a chance to finally satisfy my relentless need for sex and maybe to fulfill and longtime fantasy of multiple men in one evening.
I joined the party only a few hours ago and quickly realized my fantasy of being used by multiple men. One of them was my first black man, and it was all I could have hoped for. After being thoroughly satisfied I took a quick shower to freshen up.
Feeling fresher but a bit sated I went to the common room. Grabbing a soda, I settled into a chair to relax and watch. I had my skirt back on, my top was open. I found it exhilarating to be exposed and almost naked for anybody to see. There were maybe ten or twelve people in the room and from the sounds coming from upstairs a number more currently engaged in heated sex. Those in the common room were in various stages of dress. Many in silk or satin bathrobes, a few women, like myself, in revealing and minimal outfits. A few men and women were totally naked.
Body shapes ran the spectrum of the human condition. Big, beautiful women, stout men, thin women, thin men. Some more attractive than others. All seemed to be enjoying the sexual tension in the air. A few women seemed to be attracting more attention than others. One younger woman seated on a love seat was casually sucking the cock of a man standing in front of her, though in a rather desultory way. Three men hovered nearby.
Sandy sat down next to me and said, "You seemed to find what you wanted right out of the gate Jeanette."
I grinned, "That did happen fast."
"Teddy came downstairs very relaxed and he mentioned you were still busy when he left. I went up to peek in on you and make sure you were ok." Sandy continued, "I saw you were being fucked by John -- or was we call him, long John."
I felt a little embarrassed, maybe I was too slutty.
"Did I go too far?" I asked, uncertain. "I just kind of let it happen. I let myself go completely -- I hope I didn't offend anybody."
Sandy looked intensely at me for a moment then said, "Your being serious -- aren't you?"
"Sandy, I have no idea what the proper etiquette is at a swingers party -- it is all very new to me. I have never let go before -- I mean really let go. Maybe It was too much," I said quietly.
"Girl -- you got our night off to a roaring start. I stood and watched you and when you shouted for John to fuck you harder I almost cheered." She said. "It was like you set off a sex bomb and people are still up there fucking like rabbits after seeing you. You are like a two-legged Viagra."
"So, I wasn't too slutty?" I asked as I looked up at her.
Sandy took my hand.
"Not here -- not possible. Everybody thinks men invented swing clubs. The reality is swing clubs are for women. We can live out our desires and fantasies without judgement or fear of being socially ostracized."
Sandy ran a finger over my cheek.
"Every woman has different sexual needs and for a few of us it is an itch for intense sex that we can never seem to satisfy."
Like a light coming on in my head I understood. In here women decided everything. Whom to play with, how many to play with. Women were the focus and the control of a swinger's club. Men of honor protected the rules, and by extension allowed women to live out their hidden fantasies. If well behaved, men got to play with multiple women with their wives or girlfriends approval. Clubs like this could only exist if they were safe places for women to fully express their sexual desires.
"Well -- if that's the case I would like to try something else," I said with rising confidence.
Sandy looked at me, then she surprised me. She kissed me. Not the peck on the lips kind but the full open mouth, tongues dancing, wet, sensual kiss. And I kissed her back. I felt her hand on my breast, and my nipples got immediately hard. It was my first real kiss with a woman. A make out kiss. I felt like I was a teen in the back of a car for the first time. A kiss like Sandy's told me she wanted me.
"Wow," I said, catching my breath. "I have never kissed a woman like that."
"I wanted to do that the minute I first laid eyes on you, but I wasn't sure if you were open to it. I think you are really sexy. That mix of needy slut but naïve mature woman turned me on something awful. It was an impulse -- I just had to kiss you. I hope you don't mind. You didn't seem to mind." Sandy said with a lascivious grin.
"No. I didn't mind it -- I really liked it. You kiss very softly, sweetly but really sexy."
Blushing I continued, "It was so unexpected I didn't really know how to react, so I just kissed you back, because you turned me on. I really love your confidence and comfort with all this."
She kissed me again -- less intense. I put her hand back on my breast. I felt so naughty and excited.
"Let me help you explore what you need. Let me be your first woman and let's see where it goes," Sandy whispered in my ear. She gave me a little nibble on my ear.
She winked and got up to tend to other guests. I watched her walking away. What a lovely ass she had. And I am pretty sure she put just a bit more swing in that walk for me. I sighed. This was turning out to a night of revelatory surprises.
With Sandy gone I took time to look around the room. A few couples had returned downstairs. Very relaxed and chatty I noticed.
As my eyes wandered further, I noticed a couple in the far corner. She had rather striking, and honestly a bit of an intimidating look. Her straight, raven black hair cut in a bob with front bangs down to her eyebrows. She was short but shaped like an athlete. Powerful shoulders and legs. She radiated energy and authority. Her dark, piercing eyes had caught mine.
She headed right at me. She intimidated me. Her gaze was piercing. I noticed that behind her a man followed in her wake. He looked down at the ground and he was wearing what looked like a dog collar. To be blunt he looked like a bit beaten down. His body language said he was her possession, not her companion.
She stopped in front of me and I realized she was really rather short, even in her thigh high black boots with 4-inch heels. A black bustier covered her -- mostly. Her feet were spread in a kind of manly fashion, taking up space and presenting an air of challenge, authority, and command. She looked like a pocket dominatrix but not so haughty or remote. More like a panther ready to pounce and I was the antelope in her crosshairs.
She looked me right in the eye and said, "My husband wants you. Would you join us upstairs?"
No introductions, no small talk. Right to the point. It was posed as a question, but it really didn't sound like one. It sounded like an instruction.
He was not an Adonis. He was wearing only a very tight pair of what I had assumed were men's white briefs. On closer inspection I realized they were white, lacy panties. I also noted he was hairless like a boy. He had sandy hair with flecks of gray. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the rather worn carpet beneath his feet.
"Can he perform? He looks a bit of a sissy to me," I said a bit dubiously.
"He will do what he is told, and he will do it well. Won't you Stephen?" she replied as she yanked Stephens collar
"Yes mistress" Stephen said quietly.
I realized that she was his mistress -- his dominant. I saw these on porn sites, but I had never met anyone from that lifestyle. It was a fascinating dynamic. The small woman was in absolute control of her, partner, pet, husband. He didn't seem eager for any sex, but certainly subservient to her. Submissive -- that was it -- he was submissive to her.
I can only guess this was by agreement since he had to stand a good seven inches taller and probably at least 60 lbs. heavier. Despite the size difference it was clear that she was in charge. I found the dynamic fascinating, and kind of sexy. What must it be like to have a man under your control that tightly? To give an order and have it obeyed without question.
"Does he do anything you tell him to?" I ask
"Mostly. We have some rules that neither of us violates. But if it's sexual -- I tell him, he performs."
"So, you could tell him to lick my ass and he will do it?" a note of disbelief crept into my voice.
"Yes. You would like that, wouldn't you Stephen? Look at the pretty lady when you speak, show your manners pussy boy," as she yanked his collar harder.
Stephen raised his head, looked me right in the eye, "It will be honored to serve my mistress and lick your anus as long and as thoroughly as you might wish"
He meant it too. His body language was open and the idea of sticking his tongue in my ass didn't bother him at all. I could also sense that he was not motivated solely by sexual desire. He was motivated to please his mistress. It felt like was a dog performing a trick in front of others so his owner to demonstrate her total control.
Turning back to the commanding woman who held his leash I asked, "Why do you need me then? He can do these things to you. Wouldn't that be better for both of you?"
"Because he is my bitch, and on rare occasions I reward him for his loyalty and good behavior. You are a beautiful, single woman and I know he craves you. I caught him looking at you. He will pay for his indiscretion later but now is time for his reward," she replied in a most aggressive tone.
Staring right back at her as I replied, "And I am the treat?"
"In effect -- yes," she said not realizing she had reduced me to a dog treat.
I found it appealing and appalling at the same time.
It would be appealing to be in her boots. Have him at my heel. To command as I wished and have him obey my most impulsive and selfish desires. To do humiliating and degrading things just to prove how strong my control over him was.
Appalling because I felt like a doggy treat. A bone or chew toy to be thrown to her pet. No more a person than a stuffed teddy bear or a favorite toy. If I consented, I became an object, not a person. I really didn't like that idea.
"Think I will pass" I replied.
"I really think you should. I don't like being told no." She said in a very aggressive manner.
I was surprised as my temper flared and I stood up.
"Get used to disappointment." I snapped back.
