Note: This is a stand-alone story that is part of our on-going swinging adventures. I hope you find at least part of these stories humorous.
Chapter 5: Swinging with the Lord
I met a couple one time on a swingers website called swinghookup or something like that. It was a little website that was one of the first "swinger-related" sites I stumbled across on the internet in the 90s. Back then people were still exploring this whole new internet thing. Websites were still kinda new and unique. The swinghookup site had links to swinger related subjects, but the main reason that I surfed the site was for its chat board. This was my first real experience chatting online with other people who shared this crazy interest with Anne and me. You know, of having sex with someone that was not your spouse, yet your spouse knew about it. And your wife or husband was having sex right beside you. In the same bed. But not with you. Crazy.
For some reason it was usually women that would be chatting on the site. Of course, this being the internet, it could have been a guy simply pretending to be a girl, but I never knew if that was going on. So, for whatever reason, I began chatting with one woman in particular. I got the feeling that she (him? it?) really was a woman. Well, as good a feeling as you could get typing on a computer with some random unknown person.
Usually, this woman, Marcy, would get online and begin to act very sexy. She would spend lots of time typing about all the men that she wanted to screw. To fuck. Hard. She typed merrily away about all the black guys that she wished would bend her over and take her from behind.
It was all very sensuous and erotic.
Well, to me it was. I mean, not like, "I gotta rip off my pants and whack off to this incredibly hot and erotic chat!" But still, it was kinda hot.
So, anyway, I began chatting with her in the regular chat room but soon we moved to a private chat room. To be private. For, um, chatting. We chatted about all sorts of things. You know, not just sexual. But a lot sexual.
People seem to be a lot freer talking about sex when they're typing and not talking. In fact, they type a LOT about sex. Anyway, we chatted about our lives a bit, like what we did for a living and where we lived. That kind of shit.
During one of our many chats, I found out that she didn't live too far away from us. Only about an hour. Her fiancé, Steve, joined in on some of these conversations as well. So did Anne. We all seemed to get along pretty well. Online. One thing that definitely stuck out was that, as opposed to others that we had spent internet time with, they seemed to be rather well educated.
I remember one conversation I had with Steve about getting children to read and Harry Potter. At the time, some school district in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere was trying to ban the first Harry Potter book from the school library. It was so long ago that there may only have been only one Harry Potter book.
Why the fuck am I writing about Harry Fucking Potter in the middle of a book about swinging and fucking?
Stay with me here.
Anyway, I was chatting with the guy, Steve, about how ridiculous the whole situation was with trying to ban this book. I was going on about how great it was that these books were getting kids to read, which was far more important than an irrational fear that the kids would somehow be drawn into a life of witchcraft and sorcery. Oooooo, the devil!!!! Scary!!!!!! Morons.
Steve was agreeing with me, and we were getting pretty deep into religious issues and the hypocrisy of the far right. It was all very heavy stuff. After a while, I commented that he seemed to know a lot about religion. He told me that his college degree was in religious studies.
Wow!!
I mean, some of the people that we'd met online had never even driven past a college, let alone actually gone to one. To, you know, study. This guy was unique! This guy was different! This guy was educated!!
Although. . . it was, um, a little odd. Here he was a theology major at a university. You know, you really don't run into theology majors all that often. Especially on swinger chat boards. . .
Still, it was pretty cool to be able to chat with people that could actually hold a good conversation. So, Steve and I continued to chat. Marcy and I continued to chat. Anne and I continued to fuck, but, you know, that's a different story.
After a few weeks of getting to know them a bit better, Steve and Marcy decided that they were going to visit a swinger's club in town near us. Now, Anne and I had not yet ventured out to a club at this point. We had talked about it, but hadn't built up the nerve to go. Steve and Marcy really wanted us to go with them, but seeing as how we were a) chickenshit; and b) had never met them in real life, we politely declined the offer to join them on their club adventure. But, they planned to spend two days in the city, so we told them that we would meet them for dinner on the night that they weren't planning to go clubbing.
We met them at a local restaurant. An Irish pub. I really don't know why. I mean, why Irish?
Well, we were banned from the Mexican restaurant next door over the whole, uh, margarita puking fiasco, so I guess that Irish was the next best thing.
So, over corned-beef and cabbage, we got together with Steve and Marcy.
I remember when we met.
He was bald.
She had long brown hair. All the way down to her very nice ass.
He was bald.
She was very flirtatious and sexually aggressive. Just like she was in the online chat rooms.
He was, um, bald.
We talked. We ate Shepherd's pie or potatoes or something. Drank Guinness. As opposed to our Mexican adventure, we were able to carry on a conversation with Steve and Marcy. Again, it helped that we could talk about pretty much anything. However, there was also the somewhat disconcerting fact that Marcy was looking at Anne and me like a tiger looks at a buffalo down by the watering hole. You know, the slow, fat juicy one. Disconcerting. But at the same time somewhat sexy as well.
Anyway, we ended up going back over to their hotel room to chat some more, and we played some weird swinger game with some cards.
And we all got naked and FUCKED, right?
Well, um, no.
But I do remember hugging Marcy very closely and having her run her hands all over my ass and my dick.
Well, on top of my pants.
Anne and bald guy?
Yeah. Nothing.
He just wasn't doing it for Anne.
So we left.
At home we talked about how nice and interesting they seemed. Anne really wanted to like him. Well, she liked him. She just didn't want to ride his cock to a screaming orgasm.
Nothing.
