Note: This stand-alone story is part of our continuing swinging adventures. I hope you find at least some humor in these stories.
Chapter 9: In Da Club Part III – Wax on, whacks off, Daniel-san
When we moved north, we had to find a new swing club to go to.
Oh, we moved north. Didn't I tell you that?
Well, we did.
Try to keep up.
Anyway, there are sites on the web that list swing clubs in different states. It's awesome.
I love the internet!
One stop shopping for all your deviant, wacked-out fuck needs!
And everyone has at least a few fuck needs.
So, we located this club in our new town. Swinger Couple Fantasy Club. SCFC. Well, it certainly sounded good.
On the internet.
The pictures looked good. Rooms with beds in them. A main room with some chairs and a dance floor. A small bar area. Your typical place to pick up random people to fuck.
Although we looked at some other clubs that were also in the area, Anne and I decided that we would try SCFC. It was mid-October when we finally found a weekend that would work. Chilly, but not yet snowing out.
So, on a Saturday evening in the middle of October, we set off on another swinger club adventure.
And drove right to a strip mall.
Ugh. Seriously?
Now, granted, it was on the other side of town, at least 45 minutes away. We didn't know a soul.
But, it was still in a strip mall.
Why? Who the fuck knows. Maybe the rent was really cheap. Maybe they wanted to be able to go next door to the Blockbusters without walking too far. Whatever.
But it certainly met creepy factor number one. Strip mall swinger club? Creepy.
But, we parked and steeled ourselves for the adventure.
As Anne and I got out of our car, we noticed that it was quite crowded.
Huh.
Saturday night at a strip mall and its really crowded? Ok, first thought is that this is one HAPPENING swinger's club. Woooo!!! Cannot wait to party!
But then we noticed that a lot of these people were dressed in costumes. No, not slutty hooker stuff that a lot of the women wear to clubs. No, this was monsters and aliens and spidermans.
uh, men.
Um, and, uh, why do so, uh, many of these people look like. . .
Kids?
Anne and I began to frantically look around. And almost immediately spotted the haunted house. Located about 500 feet from the entrance to the swinger's club.
Wow.
Now, the swinger club didn't have a big neon sign on it blinking,
FUCK HOUSE!
But, it was on the second story of the strip mall. So, there was a nice line of men and women going up some rickety outside stairs. And, you guessed it, some of the women were dressed, um, kind of slutty. And all of the guys had something in their hands. Paper bags with bottles of booze; little coolers filled with multiple six-packs. Whatever their drink of choice, they had it in a bag.
And, not more than 500 feet away from the sex processions, a huge line of people, families, kids, all waiting in line to head into the strip mall house of terror. Ok, so some of the women in that other line were dressed kinda slutty too. But for each one of these women, there were like three little Princess Jasmines standing next to them.
Hey, guess what?
Creepy factor number two!!! Swinger club right next door to family entertainment.
Yuck!
As Anne and I stood there, debating what to do, I could almost imagine the two groups staring at each other like some fucked-up, drug induced version of the Sharks and the Jets, ready to rumble down by the strip mall.
Just as I was starting to snap my fingers and break into a stunning yet snappy rendition of "America," Anne said,
"Well, let's go in. I don't want to hang out here too long. It's kind of creepy."
No shit.
So, up the swinger steps we scampered. I swear some little girl dressed like a Care Bear pointed at me and asker her dad where we were going. I shut that image out of my brain as best as I could and we entered the magical world of fucking!
Well, we entered the foyer area.
Again.
To fill out the mountain of forms.
Again.
Ok. We won't do any drugs. We won't take any pictures of people doing it. We're not police officers looking to bust the place, blah, blah, blah.
Now, I could be wrong, but it seems to me that if the police wanted to take down the club, some stupid little form wouldn't do all that much to stop them.
"Well, we were gonna go in and arrest some people for prostitution and public indecency, but gosh darn it sarge, they had a form!!"
"No! Really?"
"Yep, Couldn't do a darn thing!"
Not that I think that all swinger clubs have prostitution or drug use or whatever going on in them. Do some of them? Sure. But so does the fucking park down the street, and we're not rushing to close all of them down.
As for closing them down because they're places where people go to have sex? Fuck you. Consenting adults making a choice to have sex with a willing partner or partners all in one fun little place? It's their choice. How's it any different than picking someone up in a bar and going somewhere to fuck. Ok, the drinks are cheaper. But the cover is a lot more expensive. Oh, and there's a ton of people having sex right there. Otherwise, no difference!
Leave people alone. A good motto for more people to try and live by.
Whew.
Sorry for the rant.
So we filled out our ream of paperwork. Paid our eighty bucks and then entered the flesh fantasy world of fucking!
Right?
Not so much.
This was not like a club that we were used to. We entered what seemed to be just one big room. Almost like a classroom. After looking around for a bit, we noticed that there was a hallway that ran around this main room. Small rooms were off of this hallway.
We learned all of this on our obligatory tour of the place. Some of the small rooms had mattresses in them. One of the rooms had some weird contraption in it that a woman sat on. Or splayed out over. I don't really fucking know what it was. I think it was a sex swing. Or maybe a kite.
