Confessions Of A Rust Belt Swinger 02

NOTE: This is a stand-alone story, but the continuing adventures of a swinger couple. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2: Wasting Away in Margarita-ville

After chatting online with lots of different people, I began corresponding with one couple quite a bit. Kevin and Misty. The good thing about them was that they didn't live too far away from us. They, like us, were interested in the whole idea of swinging but had never actually done it. Swinger Virgins. Kevin and I had many late night online talks about what we wanted to do with each other's spouses. Heck, let's be honest, we wanted to get laid. We wanted to fuck a woman. That wasn't our wife. Isn't that what this was all about?

Kevin, as he described himself, was about my height had blond hair and a job. Work is good! For the life of me it didn't even make an impression on me at the time as to what he did. I think something with his hands.

Electrical.

He didn't have electric hands. But he may have been an electrician.

Or worked at UPS.

Whatever.

Now Misty, I remember to this day that she worked at a movie theater. I don't know what she actually did at the theater. Made the popcorn? Took the tickets? Blew guys in the bathroom? No clue. But she was Blonde. And she was small. Not like "little person" small. But small nonetheless.

Anne chatted quite a bit with them as well. And, as far as I knew, Kevin had his wife Misty chat with me. I think. That's the thing with online chats. You never know who you're really chatting with. If you did, then all those pedophiles that get arrested and make the nightly news would never be caught by the police. Morons.

So we chatted. Me, Anne, Kevin and Misty. We were full of fantasies. Sharing partners. Licking, sucking and fucking.

On the internet.

In real life? Not so much.

At least not for a while.

We were all scared. How do you take the next step? How do you look a guy in the eye and ask him if you can fuck his wife? Or ask him if he will fuck your wife?

Weird.

Very, very weird.

But, we kept at it. And we were feeling more and more comfortable with each other. Well, on the computer. So, we decided to meet. All of us. Without computers.

Maybe we should have sent our computers to meet each other "in real life."

IRL.

There's even an acronym for it. Because the real world is so weird when it comes to swinging. So much more goes on in the computer world. Chatting. IM'ing. Chat rooms. Video chat rooms. Skyping. Tweeting.

Holy crap, can't we just meet?????

Which is what we decided to do.

To meet.

In person.

In public.

At a bar.

Cause if we're gonna meet with people, like for real, there's gonna have to be alcohol involved.

Lots and lots of alcohol.

We decided to meet at a pretty well-known downtown Mexican restaurant. It was a central location for both of us. Neutral territory. I remember driving over there. Anne was so nervous. Before we got there, she decided that we needed to buy some breath mints.

We had to have breath mints!

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was gonna let you fuck my wife. But, um, your breath! I mean, Jesus!"

So we stopped for mints. Lifesavers I think. We were suckin' those bad boys down like we hadn't eaten in week! God I'm starving!!! More spearmint!! Soon enough, we parked and were walking in to the place.

We spotted Kevin and Misty sitting at a table. They spotted us. Super fresh breath and all.

I shook Kevin's hand. He seemed like a decent fellow. Anne wasn't running away screaming.

That was a positive.

I looked over at Misty.

Like I said, she was small and blond. Cute.

And very very VERY drunk.

Did I say drunk?

Cause that's what she was.

Kevin told us that Misty was kind of nervous. So, she had a margarita to calm her nerves.

Then she had a second one.

She was on her third when we walked into the bar.

I think she may have weighed 90 pounds sopping wet. And quite a bit of that was now well soaked in tequila.

We were going to sit down with them but Kevin told us that there was a nice open air patio upstairs. He thought that it would be a better place to chat.

Fine by us.

I just wasn't sure if Misty was gonna make it up the steps.

Seriously.

I think Kevin held onto her. Kind of guided her like a drunk pinball up the stairs, bouncing off the walls the entire way.

When we got to the top we found that there was no one else out on the patio.

That was a good thing.

As we walked through the restaurant, thoughts raced through my head. Could people tell? Did they know why two complete stranger couples were meeting at this bar? That we were there to talk about fucking each other? Were we putting out some type of signal?

"Holy marriage vows Batman, it's the Swinger Light!!"

So, it was probably good that we were alone up there. Us, Kevin and, um, oh boy.

We tried chatting a bit.

Why was it so much easier on a computer? Conversation flowed out of my fingers. Funny. Witty. Quick with a response. The reality was that I couldn't shut up when typing.

In person? I was like a monk freshly released from his vow of silence.

I had nothing.

Anne wasn't much better. My bubbling outgoing wife had suddenly become shy and introverted.

Crap.

This was not going at all like it did in all the stories. The easy meet. The cool conversations. The hot fucking!!!

We were a bunch of statues sitting on the patio of a bar.

Then Misty decided that she wanted to show us her tattoo.

Um, ok. Drunk girl in the spotlight!

You know, I think that she wanted to show us her tattoo. She was a bit hard to understand at this point 'cause she was slurring quite a bit.

Whatever.

It at least gave us something to do other than struggle with actual talking.

So, I figured that she would show us a nice little tattoo on her shoulder. Or maybe something small and dainty on a foot. Or a toe.

Nope.

She was suddenly pulling down her pants. Pulling down her thong. To show us her tattoo on her hip.

Nice. Um, butterfly. Or something. I'm looking at a little drunk ass in the dark here!

So. There we were. On the patio of some bar, with a couple that we had talked with about fucking, and Misty was pulling her pants down to show us her ass.

"Can you see it?"

Can you seeeeeeeee it!?"

Oh, we can see it alright.

Maybe you should, um, put it away?

She did. She managed to pull up her pants. Then she babbled on a bit more about something.

And then?

She puked.

All over the patio.

Oh. My. God.

Well. Isn't this going well?

Um, where do ya go from here? I mean, where?

Kevin went over to her. I think he had a napkin or something and tried to help clean her up a bit. Anne and I? Well, suddenly we were very interested in something, um, over, uh there.

After a bit, they came over to where Anne and I were kind of cowering. In the corner.

"I feel a lot better!" said Misty, smiling at us.

"Great!" I answered. "Now let's go fuck!"

On the inside. No, I wasn't even saying that on the inside. On the inside I was saying, "Eewwwww!!!!"

On the outside, I was saying, "So, uh, are you ok?"

She told us that she was. Kevin apologized and said that the night was certainly not going in the direction that they thought it would.

No shit.

Amazingly, instead of simply running away to sober up, Misty wanted to continue the evening. Even more amazingly, I guess, is that we agreed. Hey, her next show could be even better so why not!! Oh, and Misty told us that she was done drinking for the night.

Good call Misty.

We left the bar (and the puke) behind and decided to take a walk down the street for a bit.

The lack of conversation continued as we walked. Misty was still kinda blitzed, Kevin just didn't talk a lot and I think that Anne and I were shell-shocked from the whole puke on the patio experience. So, we wandered. And ended up in front of the local porn shop. I mean, what city doesn't have a local porn shop? And whaddya know, ours turned out to be on this street.

So we went in.

It was your typical porn store. Clothes up front. Dildoes and other various toys in the middle, and x-rated movies in the back.

Oh yeah, there was a one-legged woman working the place.

A One FUCKING Legged Woman.

See, I knew the second act would be as good as the first!!!

A One.Legged.Woman.

With very few teeth. And, hmmmmm, how can I put this. . . She was, um, kind of, disheveled.

Amazingly, even though most of the stuff in the store was wrapped in plastic, I still thought that the merchandise was dirty. The shelved were dirty. I think that the air was kinda dirty.

Anne and the now somewhat sober Misty were in one aisle giggling over some of the vibrators. They were turning them on and off, looking at the different sizes, etc. I thought I heard Anne ask, "Where the hell would you put all of this?" while holding a twelve inch monster in her hands. Me? I was looking at the videos. I gazed upon row after row of cheesy titles telling me all about every possible sexual perversion imaginable. I have no idea what Kevin was doing.

Somehow, Anne and Misty got into a conversation with the one-legged porn lady (O.L.P.L) about the different vibrators that they were looking at. While explaining one of the long slender bullet shaped items, O.L.P.L. croaked out,

"This is my favorite one."

Oh no she didn't!

I, for one, thought that it was now my turn to puke.

Seriously.

O.L.P.L. cackled and gabbed with the girls. I think Kevin had slipped out the back door for a bit, and I was trying to go to my happy place. You know. The one that didn't have a nasty one-legged porn lady lurking in the corner.

After making some purchases, we left store and decided to end our evening of strangeness. We left O.L.P.L behind. We left Misty the puker behind. We left that night behind.

Although I think that Anne's vibrator wore out only a few short months ago.

It was a damn good vibrator.