I'm Michael, informal chairman of our swingers club, partly because I'm senior member at age 45, mostly because my wife Beth and I own the rural estate where we meet. Beth and I are enthusiastic about the lifestyle, but we like careful selection of members and rules that assure mutual respect. In our first installment - 'Hot Scenes - Our Swinger Club Ch. 1' - you met Sandra, Ricardo and Ned, three of our veteran members enjoying the kind of fantasy that is our club specialty. The game wasn't fair at all. Poor Sandra was destined to lose, but she didn't mind.
For this installment, we thought you might enjoy learning how we make new members comfortable if they are new to the lifestyle. I handle the male role in our orientation sessions.so will be handling today's 'Session One' with Pete and Jackie. I'm a 6'3" fitness coach today, once a starting mid-fielder in the International Hockey League -- so a physical guy that women seem to enjoy being with. Handsome? Maybe not so much anymore. My face and body carry the scars of a career that features wall slams, fistfights, flying pucks and crazy bastards trying to whack you with their stick.
Our club's goal in Session One is NOT to indoctrinate the couple, but rather to help them be sure they are making a good decision. Many couples fantasize about making love to a stranger or a friend. Threesome is a common fantasy. Scene's such as the bondage seduction of Sandra are common fantasies. But for some couples, the reality triggers emotions that can be unexpectedly powerful and can be destructive to the marriage.
So Pete and Jackie are aware that their first session will let them gradually experience stages of physical activity, with either allowed to signal STOP at any time. My role today tests the most common pitfall, that the husband can't handle another man becoming gradually more intimate with his wife. (If necessary, Sandra or Julie provide the reverse experiment; whether the wife is really okay with her husband becoming intimate with another woman.)
We have suggested that Jackie wear a front-buttoning sundress, bra-less, with panties she views as erotic. Some couples ask about the wife going commando because they view sans panties as sexier. I explain that the gradual 'reveal' is better for the purposes of Session One.
I wear the men's equivalent of V-cut short-shorts, without shirt.. Husband Pete is dressed as if ready to play a tennis match. It doesn't matter much what he wears. This session focuses on Jackie.
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I walk into our room that consists of a king-size four-poster bed and a corner sitting area with two leather couches. Candlelight provides all illumination, with candles gleaming on two bed-stands, on the corner coffee table, and in four wall-mounted lantern fixtures. Soft music is playing from ceiling speakers. Pete and Jackie are side-by-side on one of the couches, his wine glass is on the table in front of him, Jackie is holding her glass, but puts it on the coffee table as I enter.
I know they are 37 and 35, career professionals who live in a small metro area 35 miles away. Pete is a professional-looking guy, and he looks much like his application photos. Jackie would qualify as a stunning blond, and is more attractive than I expected, possibly because of golden hair highlighted by candlelight or possibly because of special make up for the evening. Her sundress is perfect, mini-length, neckline to hem buttons, yellow with red accents, cut low across her breasts. I walk toward them. "Greetings, I'm Michael."
They stand. Pete extends his hand: a solid grip, steady grey eyes, strong features. He says, "Good to meet you." Jackie extends her hand, too. Her blue eyes sparkle in the light. Her smile is dazzling, but I sense she thinks it's humorous that she is formally shaking my hand.
"Pete, if you'll allow me, I'll begin with a dance with your bride." Her husband gestures his permission and sits. I lead Jackie to the center of the room and extend my arms. She glides toward me, our eyes maintaining contact that already feels warm and comfortable. She is tall, at least 5'9", so her arms slide easily around my neck. I begin with hands at her hips, so our dance is really a loose embrace, far enough apart to maintain eye contact.
"You are very beautiful, Jackie."
Her eyes are warm, but laughing.. "Thank you. You are very beautiful, Michael." And she uses her right hand to rub from my shoulder to mid-chest and back.
I chuckle, "The last woman that called me beautiful was my mother, and I was six months old."
"Okay, how 'bout ruggedly handsome?" She smiles warmly and again runs her hand across my chest.
"Good enough." I found myself admiring her spirit, the sense of humor, the easy way she is settling into the scene, even her aggressive use of her hands. Most newbies have a period of nervous contemplation and inaction. But while I'm admiring her spirit, the manly man within is visualizing the pleasure of taming this filly.
We dance for a few minutes, chatting about her career as a artistic designer. My top down view of her low-cut neckline is truly inspiring, a clear shot all the way to her stomach, with her nipples barely covered. I pull her closer, now dancing chest-to-chest. I step back to meet her eyes. "Are you ready for our first kiss?"
She says nothing, pulls against my neck to move closer and tilts her head waiting for my lips to find hers. Her lips are soft, inviting. The faint taste of barely visible lipstick is delicious. As I pull her closer, again chest-to-chest, the kiss intensifies. I can feel her nipples against my chest, poking through the thin fabric of her dress. I feel her tongue touching my lips, pushing forward. I also feel an erection forming, very early for me as a veteran of this process. Her breathing becomes faster, audible. So does mine. I glance toward her husband. He is leaning forward but with an expression of curiosity not anxiety.
In Session One's next phase, I take command. "Jackie, turn toward your husband then put your arms around my neck." I help her turn; I feel her dress lifting as her arms reach upward then lock behind my neck. I lift the back of her dress to waist high, then step toward her, close enough to hold the hem in place, and to keep my growing erection in contact with her panties.
We dance on, actually 'sway on' is a better term, allowing me to assure that she is always facing her husband, a man who is aware that something has happened to lift her skirt, but unaware that my dick is exploring the curves and crevices of her ass, and she is pushing backward with slight gyrations of her hips helping me explore. In a minute or less, I feel her first obvious effort to begin serious grinding against me. Her breathing quickens. As I feel her back arch slightly, I move my hands from her hips to her stomach and caress in circular motions toward her breasts. My hands move onto her breasts, still with a circular motion. My palms are on the outside of her dress, but my fingers can explore the curves at her neckline, and her nipples are hard against my palms. I hear her first gasp, then another. I wish I could see her face, likely changing from coolly beautiful to the almost pained expression of growing passion. Her husband can see her face. He is now watching with rapt attention. He is also stroking himself.
I move fingers to the top button on her dress. It yields quickly. Then to the second. Then to the third. I can easily tell that I now have full access to her naked breasts, but I slowly release two more buttons, opening the dress nearly to her waist. And I move upward in very slow circular motions from her waist to her breasts, first cupping her in the palms of my hands, then lightly caressing her nipples with the same circular motion. I can feel her pressing backward with her hips. Her breathing is ragged gasps. I hear "oh god, oh god, oh god," softly. I use two fingers on each nipple, caressing lightly then pinching gently. Her back arches, I feel her head press hard against my chest. She is gasping "oh god, oh fuck, oh fuck."
I stop touching her. I take her shoulders and turn her around, enjoying the beauty of her breasts and the splotches of pink from neck to waist. She looks at me with an expression almost tortured but says nothing. I say, harshly, "You have not pleased me."
She looks confused, her eyes troubled. Her breathing is still labored. "What? ... Why? ... I don't understand."
"Go to the couch." I help guide her to the couch opposite where Pete is sitting. I sit at mid-couch. "I want you over my knee, now." I can tell that Pete was not expecting this, but it's all part of the test. He has been told that either of them can say STOP at any time.
She pouts at me, hesitates for just a moment, but lays across my lap, her dress already at mid-thigh before we start. I use my left hand to sweep the dress toward her waist, but pause at the V of her thighs, making direct contact with tiny yellow bikini panties. I massage her briefly, her hips quiver. Her panties are soaked.
