One of many 'first time swinging' stories on this site, but this one's personal; the story of our first experience in the lifestyle. I've changed the names, locations and some minor details to ensure anonymity.
2001
To understand how we got here, you first have to understand our history. Liz and I had been married 11 years and seen a good bit of Europe thanks to my time in the Army. But we had our fun and it was time to get serious with life, so I landed a good job in the corporate world and we began that phase of our lives.
I was now a happily married, tame, suburban father of two toddlers. At 33 years old, I was still in decent physical shape thanks to a physically demanding specialty and the deployments it required. Liz was tall with long legs, curvaceous hips, and has always been the most beautiful woman in the room, at least to me. Her 5'9" height and red hair over mesmerizing green eyes made her stand out in any crowd. Add in her naturally friendly and flirty nature and she had unstoppable charisma.
Becoming a stay at home mom was a tough adjustment; Liz was becoming self-conscious of her weight and resolved to get back down to her pre-childbirth size. Her internal drive and still youthful metabolism got her there in a matter of months. Old school diet and exercise melted off her body fat and she dropped to 135 pounds of lean muscle. Unfortunately, she lost everything, including her modest B minus cups and was left with nothing up top. Seriously - nothing more than fried eggs nailed to the wall.
I never understood how some guys look down on women with 'fake' boobs. In Liz's case, she didn't want huge; in her own heartbreaking words, she just wanted to feel like a woman again. She always felt like her natural breasts were a little too small for her tall frame and up-sized to full C cups giving her a perfect proportion.
Our usual weekend intimacy involved surfing HBO and Cinemax as we cuddled. Late night soft core documentaries and movies were common at that time and we landed on a reality-type show following the lives of married couples in open relationships; they were still called swingers in that era, before the moniker softened to 'lifestyle.' The subject matter and visuals ramped us up again and we went for a rare second round. I thought it was just me but Liz was into it as much as I was.
"Did that show turn you on?"
Liz murmured her 'I don't know' mumble like she does when she's too embarrassed to admit an explicit agreement. "You?" She challenged back.
I admitted I was intrigued at the idea of showing off ALL of Liz's new body, but not so sure about sharing it with anyone. The Army took me away from home a lot throughout active duty. Jody is an infamous scourge for military marriages, and though I had suspicions I never had any firm evidence of infidelity. I'd always been faithful; deployments presented zero opportunities in my world beyond the company skank. There are certainly attractive women in the military, especially on the Air Force bases, but they were mostly junior enlisted and already swarmed. Besides, it's not a good look for an officer. I was perfectly content with loving reunions with my wife.
It was getting late and we went to sleep without really concluding the conversation, just leaving an open-ended ominous curiosity.
Researching anything on the internet at that time involved shady chat rooms or membership in private groups I didn't want to join. However, the local FM talk show I listened to on my long drive home from work had a guest talking about polyamory. She was part owner of a swinger's club downtown. It wasn't a sex club, just a nightspot for the underground community. I found myself moving into the right lane and slowing below the speed limit to lengthen my drive. This was too coincidental; a sign from the gods.
A week later we found ourselves at the anonymous bar on the top floor of a non-descript building just up from the heart of the city; no signs, just dance music coming from behind a closed wooden door. We had no idea what to expect but dressed for the occasion. Liz wore her highest heels, black hose matching her short leather skirt, and a lace top showing off her now eternally perfect cleavage. Once inside it felt like a normal dance club with people at the bar, some sequestered in sitting areas and a full dance floor. We kept to ourselves, taking in the sight of the eclectic crowd ranging from young people who looked like they belonged in a dance club to out-of-place middle aged couples.
We danced, but not much more than that. While out on the dance floor, someone's grandma took my hand and separated me from Liz. A couple of guys filled the void and took turns pulling Liz in close. Watching their hands on her leather ass and watching Liz's hands on theirs as they rubbed her hips up her waist and torso stole my attention from grandma. It felt like I was looking at some unknown, beautiful woman; only the glimmer of her diamond I'd placed on that finger 11 years ago reminded me who she was.
It started to feel like any other bar. In spite of the feeling up and grinding, we were never approached, much less propositioned in the 2 hours we were there. We felt like less than half the crowd would have interested us anyway; fun night, but we came away disappointed. We resumed our normal, respectable life and gave it another chance a month later with the same result. We either weren't doing it right or the swinging lifestyle wasn't for us. The upside is it fueled our marital sex life. I felt like I had the best of both worlds. I'd mentally capitulated to sharing my beloved wife without actually giving her up; physically she was still all mine. Knowing we never really resolved this enticement kept the passion going.
Months later, we went on one of our normal date nights closer to home. One of Liz's friends suggested a place in a neighboring suburb with good food and live music. It was the kind of place that had the feel of a sports bar early but morphed to a night club later in the evening when the elderlies and families left. It didn't have a website yet but I noticed their ad in the town paper promoting different specials and themes for each night; this Saturday had an 80's cover band and an explicit 'OVER 21 ONLY' in all caps. Perfect, we left our own toddlers with a sitter and didn't need others disrupting our night out. We went for dinner and figured we'd stay if the music was good.
A crowd filtered in as we were deciding whether to stay or call it a night. It seemed like everyone there knew each other and we wondered if I missed anything in the ad about a private party. Space was becoming a premium and a nice looking couple in their 40's asked if they could sit down at the other end of our table; we were finishing our last drink and were about to leave so we didn't think anything of it. We were being conversational but they seemed overly nice; not uncomfortably so, we were all just friendly. Our bill arrived, but they invited us to stay for another round, prompting me to ask if they were part of an office party or something. The couple smiled and realized we weren't in on it. The guy, Jack, said the 'lifestyle' theme isn't explicitly advertised. The clandestine community was small enough and tight knit enough that if you knew, you knew; and normal people like us who weren't in on it usually finished up their dinners and left, oblivious to the vibe change.
Liz and I read each other's minds without so much as a glance at one another. Six months ago we would have politely departed and thought it weird, but with our excursions at the downtown bar still simmering in our minds we settled back into our booth. We had a nice looking friendly couple who was obviously interested in us, why not see where this goes. We had another round and nervously explained our brief, inept history in their world.
Jack and Jan were gracious and non-judgmental. We felt like we had someone who could give us real answers and became surprisingly open. I guess if you've already acknowledged a willingness to at least explore the possibility of giving up your spouse to another, showing some intellectual vulnerability isn't much of a leap.
The band was good but loud, and Jan suggested moving the conversation to their house. Her experience showed and she was careful to explain we weren't going explicitly to get romantic, just that there was so much more to talk about. Liz and I listened to their wisdom and were amazed at how they made such a tawdry subject sound so normal. At times it seemed as if they were trying to talk us out of it before guiding the conversation back to how the lifestyle worked for them. They were mostly monogamous, but would occasionally open up whenever the mood struck them both. Both is key. Swingers are different from 'open' or 'polyamory.' Cuckold is something altogether different. I felt like I should be taking notes: soft vs. full, safe sex, boundaries and safe words, and something to do with pineapples. Reclaiming and communication are critical to ensure both spouses feel safe and fulfilled. I was on guard for any sense of grooming but felt none. It really felt like in just a couple of hours together we'd made good friends who were trying to be helpful as we navigated our own decisions.
As the night went on I found Jan capturing as much of my attention as Liz. I'll be a lucky man if Liz looks half as good as her in 15 years. Her highlighted blond hair and ice blue eyes gave away Nordic heritage. She had a ruddy, tanned complexion from too much sun but it gave her lithe body an appealing character. Jack had a good sense of style with a touch of gray poking through his thick brown hair. The two of them looked like a perfect match in their successful life together. I envisioned Jan playing tennis or out by the pool as Jack played 18 at whatever country club they surely belonged to.
We said our good-byes a little before midnight and drove through the gates of their enclave and back across the proverbial tracks to our more modest side of town. Liz and I could barely keep our hands off each other, our clothes and marital fidelity intact, mostly. Seeing Liz kiss Jack good night at the door was more of a turn-on than the soft kiss I accepted from Jan's thin lips. All four of us knew we'd be back. Liz and I had a silent game of chicken to see who would cave and be the first to admit it.
