I'm going to tell you about an experience I had during a business trip to a European city. I've kept some details a bit vague but may reveal more if you ask me.
The city I went to doesn't have much of a swinging scene, but on previous visits I'd scouted out a couple of venues and had a little taste of action. So on this trip, late one evening, after dinner with colleagues, I got in a cab and handed the driver a piece of paper on which I'd written a particular address. He drove for 20 minutes or so away from the city centre and eventually dropped me outside a large detached town house in a quiet residential suburb.
I was buzzed in at the gate and someone opened the front door. Last time I'd been here, I'd been welcomed by a suave barman with excellent English who had given me a tour of the premises and introduced other guests. (He later joined in a gang bang with considerable enthusiasm - perk of the job I guess). But this time I was met by a grizzled chap in T shirt and jeans who, while polite enough, could just about communicate enough to take my entrance fee.
The entrance led straight into a bar area. It seemed quiet. Not much happening. A few men at the bar. I sat on a bar stool and asked the very attractive and sexily dressed barmaid for a mineral water (I had drunk quite enough alcohol at dinner). She didn't understand, and I didn't know the local word. Impasse. Then a female voice to my left - "Water, yes?" followed by something I did not understand. The barmaid smiled and served me my drink.
Well, that was an icebreaker. I turned to look at my new-found interpreter. She was probably in her mid-forties and strikingly attractive. Pale skin; sharp, fine, rather bird-like features; huge blue-grey eyes; and black hair, drawn back rather severely. She was wearing a dress that you could only wear in a sex club. It was short, backless, black, and made entirely of flimsy see-through material. She was very obviously completely naked underneath it. I could make out a trim, fit figure with small round breasts.
"Your first time here?" she asked, in accented but clear English, fixing me with those hypnotic eyes.
"Second, actually."
"You go to other swinger clubs?"
"Occasionally." I named venues that I had visited in the UK and elsewhere. "But, you know, I am not, like, a hardened swinger."