As per usual, I begin the evening awkwardly.
Sitting on the couch with my vodka cranberry. By which I mean I began awkwardly. The particular circumstances vary.
I will hate it, I will want to run home, I will think nobody here could ever find me desirable. This will last approximately half an hour to an hour. “If you need to wait an hour to be ready, that’s okay,” my partner says. It’s a good thing to remember. After all, why am I going to a party to not do what I want? I remind myself I’ve shown up late, and everyone else has already had time to adjust. But showing up early doesn’t help, either. It’s a fine balance to arrive at the right time; not so late everyone’s already hooked up, but not too early, so that only one other small group is there and ignoring you.
I’m at a swinger party with my partner at a new location.
New crowd. I am fully aware I am not the only new person here—nobody ever is— but I still feel like everyone but me knows someone. I see all the little groups chatting away animatedly and wish I had one of my own. Should I have brought someone else with us? He asks me which of the women I find cute (he knows enough to not ask me about the men). I shrug. I feel very young in this crowd.
That’s not unusual, but it takes me a while to seek out anyone within even ten years of me, which is about my comfort level as age gap goes. I scoot up to this one group, trying to make my way into the conversation— and then, almost out of nowhere, this attractive dark haired woman walks straight up to me and asks me how I am. It hasn’t even been half an hour yet.
She introduces herself and her partner (I feel an immediate comfort with him, which is unusual with males who generally hit my flight or fight button). I introduce my partner, and we fall almost too easily into conversation. They are new to the scene, about a year. Her name is Sarah (I’ve changed the name she gave me, even though I know it’s a fake name). His is Jason. I’m trying to recall all the details, but they grew up in this city (although I’ve been living here longer). They seem very loving and sweet with each other, which I find endearing. Too often, I end up talking to a couple were one of them has clearly been dragged to the party. It’s no fun talking to someone like that.
Mid conversation, a woman materializes and motions the couple to a semi private, invite only, room.
I am not sure if I’m included, so I try to gently say that if it’s okay, I’ll join them…and I get swept into the private party. Soft play only, she says to me, and I nod assent. I’ve told her I’ve been doing this for a long time, so I think she expects I want more, but I don’t. Soft play helps me open up to someone I’ve only just met five minutes ago.
It’s cool in the room.
There’s a window in one of the walls, so that anyone at the party can watch. I’m wearing a red and black mask, my red and black slip dress, no shoes, black boyshorts underneath. I don’t normally wear panties, but I feel a bit protected with them. It’s myself, partner, the couple, and the couple who invited us. I can’t remember exactly how it happens, but the three girls end up on the bed— sans the guys. We look and giggle at them, because they look ridiculous, scrunched up beside each other on the small couch. Then we forget about them.
Soft, gentle kisses.
I sit back on my feet and watch the kissing. Slowly, I move forward, allowing myself to be drawn into the beautiful bodies next to me, all three of us intertwined. Amy gladly welcomes me into the mix. Touching, squeezing. The touches deepen in intensity, becoming ever so slightly rougher. Pinching, biting. Is the biting okay, one woman asks. I love that everyone is whispering consent, making sure of the comfort level of the other. I lose myself in the feminine energy. I even find myself kissing the first woman, and I very much want it. I want all of it. I’m vaguely aware of the guys watching us, and I wonder if I should be turned on by it. The truth is I barely register them. I’m too busy being surrounded by skin and moans.
A fourth woman wants to join in.
I didn’t even see her come in, until she’s sitting on the bed. She says she’s never done anything like this before. We’re all gathered in a circle. I ask her, do you want a massage? I love giving massages. She looks at me and says, sure. She lies down. I ask her to relax and stretch her arms out. As I’m straddling her, the two other women start massaging and playing with my breasts. I’m getting very into it, grinding myself back and forth on her back. She’s moving, too. I start wanting to come, and I’m coming and asking her if it’s okay. I am completely swept up in the attention. I want this to last forever.
I ride on the woman, as I massage her, losing myself in the wave after wave of orgasm crashing around me. After a while, I get up, worried that she is getting squished. “Rosy” and the Hispanic woman (she never said her name) start making out. I focus my attention on Sarah. She’s the one I have a crush on, anyway, and I’m glad to get to move on to her. I let myself flow into her.
I remember her asking if I wanted to lie down, as I was starting to play with myself, and I’m playing and making myself come (very wet from earlier) and she moves up and starts dancing, shifting her body from side to side with her mouth slightly open, looking at me. It’s beautiful, and I see the other couple twisted in each other next to us. I glance between her and them.
We’re strangely and perfectly comfortable with each other.
Our dance isn’t orchestrated, but it feels that way. We haven’t had a single awkward pause. Or if we did, I missed it while I was in lost in my head. Every so often, I have to pull my mind out of the clouds. I’m not disengaged, I’m just feeling every tiniest emotion heightened.
Everyone has naturally settled into this smooth rhythm. Nobody is left out. I hate those porn scenes when the two girls are fighting over the guy, and one poor girl gets unceremoniously dumped aside. Here, every woman has attention of at least two other women at all times. When the first two women kissed, they both put their hands on me. When the fourth woman joined, we paused to include her.
I’m so grateful for my partner’s presence in the background, because I know he’s keeping the guys away from us. I’m slightly annoyed, because one guy keeps demanding, “Take your clothes off!” as if we’re fully dressed, even though we only have panties on. Usually, I’m down to nothing by now, but I’m taking my time with the ladies. Leave me alone. I’ll be naked when I want to be naked. The other women don’t say anything, but they don’t make any move to take off the little they’re wearing.
We continue, ignoring everything but our own desires for each other. When the scene is “finished,” and we’re completely naked and ready for a change in pace, the men join in.