Pix And The Swingers Club

Seven days alone in a huge city, and a girl starts to wonder what to do with her time, particularly if she's been involved in some twice-daily naughty messaging with a long-distance lover that leaves her with an ache her own fingers can't relieve.

A quick search of FetLife turns up not much going on this weekend (consequence of Valentine's Day being last weekend, I guess), but a tiny trip down the FL rabbit hole, and I discover a club slightly north of the city. Sex club? Fetish club? Swingers club? It's really hard to tell, but it gets great reviews for being both friendly and fun, so I decide to give it a try. One issue? I have not packed appropriately for this.

After a shopping trip-stockings, garter belt, black mesh babydoll, black lace panties, condoms, and a black dress (which I figure I can either leave on or take off, depending on what the rest of the crowd is like when I get there), I set off on the train to the bus to the club. I'm surprisingly not nervous walking up the alley to the club, as if I've done this a million times before-regular Friday night for me, headed to the sex club.

I've pre-registered online, and the girl at the desk gives me a locker key and says she'll meet me at the bar to give me a tour. I take a peek around, and everyone seems mostly dressed, so I opt to leave my dress on for the time being, but I stash my jacket and bag in the locker room (which is just like the locker room at the gym) and stick four condoms and the locker key in my dress pocket.

Back upstairs, Kate shows me around. She calls me 'darling' and rubs my arm every few seconds, but it's friendly, not sexual. The club has been open about an hour, and the crowd is sparse as she walks me through the rooms-bar, lounge (multiple varieties of porn on screens mounted to the wall), lockable play room, grope room, public play room, semi-private play room, dark room, group room, and two tiny closets-and explains the many, many rules. There's also a dungeon downstairs, but we don't tour it.

She leaves me back at the bar, and I have a drink, stand sort of aimlessly around the bar/lounge, and hope that this isn't going to be the rest of my night. It isn't.

Less than 5 minutes later, I'm approached by a short, thin Indian man. He's probably in his late 20s and looks a bit like Dev Patel. We make small talk-its his first time at this club, too, but he used to go with his ex-girlfriend to another club in town-and he asks if I want to walk around the rooms. Panic starts to creep in, but I walk around the rooms with him, and we make still more small talk until we're back to the bar. A couple of minutes later, he asks if I want to go play in one of the rooms. My mouth says 'yes,' my brain thinks I've gone insane, but we walk to the semi-private room which is currently empty.

He kisses me, and it's awkward. Our tongues are in the wrong place, we have too many lips, and I'm convinced this isn't going to work. And I tell him so. He worries I don't find him attractive, so now I feel even worse, but he's persistent. And right before my panic reaches Defcon 1, he says 'Just let me please you.'

So I find myself, about 10 minutes after walking in the door, lying on a bed in a public place, with a stranger's head between my legs. I relax into it, and when he asks if he can fuck me, I say yes. At some point, more people come into the room to watch us, but I don't really notice them. And it feels like the most natural thing in the world to be there.

I make friends with another single girl, Marie. We spend time in the lounge, chatting, and she shares with me that her favorite room on her previous visit had been the grope room. This room has a door on one end, with holes in it for people to peek through, and one wall of the room has iron bars (think prison bars) along the wall about 2/3 of the way down, and a couple of holes at varying heights on either side of the bars. The room is big enough that the occupants can either interact with the observers or not, but it's not huge. The observation room on the other side of the bars is much narrower—room for a line of people right at the wall, and room for one more person to slide by behind them. It's curtained off on either end, and there's another curtained area beyond it, for people to watch either the grope room or the lockable room that's just across from it. This makes the whole space incredibly dark.

When I had walked through the area before, there was a couple in the grope room, with the door closed, and three or four guys in the observation room. Looking through the peepholes in the door, I could see the woman on her knees, going from cock to cock with her mouth and hands, and her husband in the corner watching her service every cock that came through the bars. A few minutes later, and he had her bent at the waist, fucking her while she focused on the cocks in front of her.

Marie and I decide to check it out. We go through the outer curtain, intending to watch at the peepholes in the door again, but there were so many bodies crowded into the tiny hallway, and I could immediately see why. The same couple from before are back again, but this time, the grope room is full of men. The wife is on her knees, being taken from behind by a stranger, several more lined up in the room for their turn. Her husband is in the hallway in front of her, cock in hand, watching her complete ecstasy. Two or three other people are in the hallway as well, trying to watch the action, so when Marie and I come in, there's really nowhere for us to go.

I start to turn, to go back out the way I had come in, but the woman on the floor suddenly reaches out her hand, grabbing the hem of my skirt with a ferocity I wasn't expecting. She pulls, I stumble forward, mostly out of momentum. She shoves at my skirt until it's around my waist, then pushes it farther up. I can tell she wants my breasts, and I free them from the underwire to give her access. And there I stand, breasts exposed in a tiny hallway with 8 or 10 strangers, the rest of me covered only by lace boyshorts and knee-high boots, and she's latched onto my nipple, sucking with the same intensity with which she was being fucked by the line of men behind her. Someone's hand snakes into my panties from the front to stroke me, and two more hands are on me from behind. She shifts position, taking me with her, so I bend a bit to accommodate her. Her husband's hand joins the others in my panties, and he kneels beside us to take my other nipple in his mouth.

By now, I'm week-kneed, have lost my wine glass, and I have no idea what else is happening around me—I'm too focused on the sensation of the strange hands and mouths on me. I reach down to pull at the husband's shoulder. I want his cock in my hand but can't reach, so he stands to give me access to it—short, but so thick my hand won't go all the way around it, and so hard it might have been made from steel. His wife had given up my nipple at this point, but she's still kneading my breasts with one hand while the men in the room have their turn with her. She begins to moan with her impending orgasm, and she cries out 'Fuck her, Derek, fuck her!!' He leans into my ear and asks 'Is that alright, luv?' And when I tell him it is, he bends me over in front of his wife, and impales me on his thick cock. I wasn't what he really wanted, and I was absolutely fine with that—he was fucking me to make his wife happy. So when she comes, and when her final man finishes with her, he turns to her, and I go on my way with a little pat on my bum—from which one of them, I have no idea.

The scene in the group play room is this: one couple at one end of the platform, fucking, not really inviting anyone else into their space; a group of three at the other end, two men and a woman, and a big crowd in the room, just watching, or playing quietly on their own in little corners and alcoves.

I can't really see, but there are two cutouts between the group room and the dark room, so I go up to get a better view. The dark room is exactly what it says—a room with no lights, black curtains at the entrance. You get a little ambient light from the group room and the semi-private room on either side of it, but you really can't see what's happening on the little daybed at the far end. I stand alone at the window, drinking wine, watching the scene in the group room-a fourth had joined the three at the end closest to me, and I am enjoying seeing the quiet pleasure they're taking in each other. I'm not alone for long, though, as a few more people trickle into the room to watch through the windows. I feel someone behind me, tentatively leaning into me, and a questioning hand on my right thigh. Arching my back a bit and rolling my hips from side to side, I give my permission. His hand moves under my skirt, around my thigh, into the top of my stocking, up the back of my thigh, teasing me just as my swaying hips tease him. Another hand, attached to another body, finds my left breast and cups it through the fabric of my dress. We stay like this, the three of us at our little window, touching but not touching, while the action in the other room moves at a similar pace.

But when the women on the bed below (five total in their group now) start to reach their peak, the energy in the dark room changes. The hand on my thigh finds my pussy, the hand on my breasts dive into the top of my dress, and I reach back to grab at a belt. My angle is awkward. I get his belt undone, his zipper down, but I just can't get to the button. My hand in the front of his jeans, I knead his cock, hoping he will have pity, undo his button and let me in fully, but no (Why not? I don't know. When a girl wants to give you a hand job, you should let her—that's just good manners). The hand in my top moves on to greener pastures, so I put my hand out and find my way into a more willing pair of pants. I'm suddenly leaning over the daybed in the dark room, a cock in my mouth. On the other side of the room, I can hear my new friend Marie's moans, echoing the sounds coming from the group play room through the window, though I can't see who or what was giving her that pleasure.

The object of my attention lay back so he can watch me take him into my mouth. He pulls me up shortly into it to whisper into my ear 'This is my first time here, so is it ok if you're in charge?' I guess being there for two hours makes me a veteran, so I oblige him! Based on his reactions, he's thoroughly enjoying what I'm doing to him, which is great, because I'm thoroughly enjoying doing it! Marie comes over to sit on the daybed and watch, and eventually to pull my tits out of my dress and play with them while I go down on him. And since they're already out, I finish him between my tits, with my hand, and he thanks me profusely.

Back in the dark room again, watching a couple in the group play room, who are slowly undressing each other. They've been lying on the bed together in the semi-private room for most of the night, just talking and kissing, and totally engrossed in each other. They're clearly so in love, and I'm sort of fascinated by them. But now they've moved to the group play room, though in the far corner, so they're still in their own universe.

Again, I feel someone behind me, hand on thigh, slightly under my skirt hem. And again, I push my ass back into the front of his pants. It may be the same guy as before, Mr. Won't Unbutton His Pants, but I can't be sure. It is definitely the guy who has been casually brushing up against me all night, at the bar, in the hallway, but hasn't said anything to me up to this point. I lean my head back against his shoulder, and his hands come up to cup my breasts. Silently, he takes my hand and leads me to the group play room. We climb onto the platform, and I lay him back, kneel over him and undress him. I don't want him to talk; I don't want to know what he wants. It's a total contrast to the really sweet lovemaking that's happening five feet away.

I go down on him with such intensity I manage to break the condom. He doesn't seem to mind—isn't even sure why I've stopped until I pull a new one out of my pocket and he realizes what's happened. Once the couple further down the platform finish, I'm ready to finish also, so I crawl up his naked torso, hook my leg around his, and pull him over on top of me. He fucks me in quick, deep strokes, one leg over his shoulder, the other around his waist. And when he comes, I wipe down our area, and head downstairs to get my jacket. Not a word was spoken between us the whole time.

The club's owner knows I'm new and has been checking on me all night—am I comfortable? Is everyone being nice? Do I have everything I need? It's pretty sweet of him. When I come back upstairs with my jacket and bag, he pulls me aside to make sure I've had a good time, and we chat while Kate (the woman who showed me around at the beginning of the night) calls a car to take me back to the hotel, and they both wait with me until it gets to the door, then they see me out and safely in the car.

I've spent 4 1/2 hours there, and it didn't feel like it at all. I had four very different experiences, met some pretty interesting people, and, most importantly, I learned a lot about myself. And I can't help but wonder, as the driver speeds me through the dark streets toward my hotel, if he has any idea what he's missing being on the other side of that unmarked door at the end of the quiet alley.