It was a cold winter day when Nikki and I finally found ourselves standing in front of the swinger's club. It had taken some time for Nikki to get us an invitation through her friend Claire, and even longer to find a time that would work for all of our schedules. The hardest part was finding a Saturday night when Tom wouldn't notice Nikki's absence, which finally happened when he left town for a wrestling tournament. And so Nikki and I found ourselves bundled into heavy winter coats and scarves, nervous about walking through the black door in front of us but too cold to linger outside.
I had been surprised that the address led us to the second floor of a nondescript, low rise building in a small suburban strip mall. The sign on the door said, "Appointments Only," but the door was unlocked. Once inside, we were met by a huge bouncer, a muscular black man with long, thick dreadlocks, standing in a short, inner hallway. He asked, almost in a bored fashion, for our invitation. Nikki nervously handed him the copy of the e-mail we had printed. The bouncer asked us to a wait a minute and then slipped inside the inner doorway. Bright, multi-colored lights and loud music poured through the crack in the door as he entered. Less than a minute later, the door opened and the bouncer had returned with Claire.
Claire bounded into Nikki's arms, screaming, "You finally made it!" The two women embraced and giggled loudly.
Although I had spoken to her over the phone and e-mail, this was the first time I had met Claire. Watching her exchange quick greeting with Nikki, there was something I couldn't quite name that made me really like Claire. She was not much taller than Nikki, about 5'5" tall. She wasn't as skinny as Nikki, but the slight extra weight on her frame seemed to give her a more womanly figure. In the hallway, she was wearing a tight, black dress made of smooth, sheer fabric. She had a round, open face with big, brown doe eyes. When she smiled, her white teeth lit up her whole face and made me want to smile with her. Her dark, chestnut brown hair was tied back in a single braid that fell to a couple inches below her shoulder blades. The tight dress, which stopped above her knees, showed off the curves of her hips and a full pair of firm, C cup breasts. Claire also had an easy, unassuming way about her. Watching her chat with Nikki, playfully slapping Nikki on the shoulder, she looked like a young, happy soul.
Claire pulled us together to address us both. "Now don't forget the rules," she said. There were many complex rules and regulations that governed this swinger's club. Claire had e-mailed them all to us weeks ago. Unless you knew someone already, you had to ask both the person and their partner if it was okay to fool around with or even flirt with them. Unless you had already both agreed to go unprotected before sex was initiated, condoms were required. There were myriad other minor rules, but the main guideline for us on that first night was to remember that it was our audition. Nikki and I were required to have sex in an open area, so that the club members could watch us. It was also encouraged to engage in a sexual activity with one of the other club members. If the members liked what they saw, we would be invited to join, which required a nominal monthly membership fee. Like any other club, the swingers club made most of its money from serving food and drinks.
Nikki handed Claire the final piece of paperwork, a recent STD test that showed Nikki and I were both clean. With the test papers in hand, Claire led us past the bouncer and through the doors of the club. The interior was not quite the 70's image of shag upholstery and bad track lighting I had imagined when first trying to picture a swinger's club, but I could also instantly tell there was a strange feel to the place. The flooring was all black rubber tiles, soft like a wrestling mat or a dance club floor. It was very dark, with flashing dance club lighting, and large, faux-leather furnishings were sprinkled throughout the place. A long bar manned by a couple of bored looking female bartenders took up one wall, and a small raised stage sat in one corner.
There were other clear signs that this was not like any other club. One couple was making out in a pair of chairs, the woman sitting in the man's lap. Another couple was quietly chatting and occasionally kissing in a corner, with the man's hand clearly fondling the woman's breast under her shirt.
Claire led us over to a pair of over stuffed chairs in a corner, with a small end table sitting in front of them. Her boyfriend of three years, Andre, stood to greet us. Nikki had met him many times before, she told me he was half Irish half Mexican. He wore a tight fitting, long sleeve shirt that clung to his thin, wiry frame. Nikki and I shed our warm outer wear, and Claire and Nikki went off to get drinks from the bar, leaving me with Andre. He was polite, but not very talkative. I sat in one chair, he sat in the other, the two of us observing the dozen or so other people in the club.
When the ladies came back, Claire caught me off guard by sitting down in my lap. I looked over and saw Nikki sit in Andre's lap, and watched a broad smile spread across his face in response. Claire handed me a drink and then wrapped her arm around my neck. She leaned against me, her full, firm breasts pressing against my chest through our clothing. With her head bare inches from mine, she smiled, flashing me her white teeth in the darkness.
"Nikki said you like whiskey and Coke," she said casually.
"I do, thanks," I replied, taking a sip from my drink.
"Nikki also says you're a hell of a lay," she purred, her mischievous brown eyes searching mine in the dim light. "I do like a man who does what it takes to make his partner happy."
I laughed loudly and wrapped my free arm around her. "Then I think we'll get along fine."
"You like my friend Nikki?" Claire asked.
"I do," I replied, "She's great."
"You love her?"
