In the spirit of general sex-positivity, let’s talk about swinging. I see that among active participants, the words “swingers” and “swinging” are being replaced by “play couples” and “the lifestyle.” Either way, you’re talking about heterosexual couples exchanging partners with other couples for recreational sex. Sound like fun? Here’s some basic info about “the lifestyle”:

It’s couples-oriented. Single men have a tough time getting into most swingers’ events, although single women are often accepted.

It’s not just the Beautiful People. Most swingers are a bit older and, as in the rest of the world, while some are gorgeous hard bodies, many aren’t.

It’s mostly het sex. Bisexual behavior between women isn’t uncommon, but sex between men is clearly frowned upon.

It’s an organized sexual community. There are hundred of swingers’ clubs nationwide, according to the North American Swing Club Association (a.k.a. NASCA International). There is also an annual conference called “The Lifestyles Convention,” which drew over 3,000 people last year.

Like other sexual subcultures, the swinger lifestyle comes with its own lingo:

· Open Swinging: Having sex with someone else while your partner is present, frequently while they are also having sex with another person.

· Closed Swinging: Having sex with someone else, with your partner’s agreement but without them being present.

· Soft Swinging: Engaging in foreplay with someone else, and then returning to your own partner for actual intercourse.

· Off-Premises Party: Sex will not take place at the actual event, it’s for meeting and mingling only.

· On-Premises Party: Sex will be happening at the party.

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I changed tactics and applied for any job that may get me in the door, so that one day I may be lucky and get to do some real journalism type work. I said yes to the $30K salary job offer, to be the administrative assistant for Cleo magazine’s investigative journalism unit. This was the unit that researched projects and travelled to exciting places to pull together interesting stories. I reported to one of the senior journalists, Amanda Smith. Amanda knew that I was keen to become a journalist and she promised that she would utilise my skills wherever she could.

Six months passed and I was enjoying working at Cleo. The work was administrative, but at least interesting, and I worked with a dynamic team. I was still waiting for the opportunity to do some journalism when it came with a strange request. It was late December and almost everyone was away on annual leave, when Amanda called me into her office excitedly. I was wondering what she was going to announce, imagining a whole lot of scenarios.

“Susan, I have a story for you,” she said. “It’s a strange topic but I bet the others would grab it if they were not on leave, and we have been given only one opportunity to do this research. You are to go to this address on Thursday night at about 10pm, and spend a few hours observing.”

Amanda walked towards me and handed me an address. “Oh yes. Susan, it’s an exclusive swinger club. They never let journalists in. We have been trying for three years now and they are giving us only one chance and that is to go to their Halloweens Party this Thursday,” Amanda continued as she walked out of the office with her keys in her hand.

“What more do I need to know about this? Do I go alone? Is it safe?” I asked in a slight panic.

I was anxious about going to this place. What if this happened? Or what if that happened? I supposed it was a great opportunity to write a story that gets a lot of readership, so I should just go along and view it as any other story I had to write about.

The day arrived. I was more anxious and nervous than I ever anticipated I would be. My friends told me that it would be fine. I was going as a professional observer and it would be interesting. My boyfriend dropped me off outside the entrance and waited for me to go inside.

I stood anxiously in front of this black door with a polished silver doorknob and I pushed the ringer. There was no sign of a club. It was in the middle of a residential area and it could have been anyone’s home.

A female voice answered “Hello, can I help you?”

“Hi, I am Amanda from Cleo” I replied quickly and in a nervous monotone.

“We are expecting you, come on up the stairs to level 2. I will meet you at the top,” she went on.

I waved to my boyfriend, who thought this was a funny experience. He wanted to join me but I told him this was professional business and only I was invited as the journalist from Cleo. I had told him I would a taxi home.

The door clicked open and I opened the door and went inside. I walked up the two flights and then find myself in a dimly lit reception area with a bar counter at the far end of the room. It resembled a mixture of a hotel lobby and a bar.

A lady approached me. “Happy Halloween! Welcome! I am Felicity. Please come sit with me at the bar, there are a few things we need to discuss.” She sat down on a barstool. She was wearing a short black mini with high heel shoes and a black jacket. Her face was well made up and she looked no more than 30 years old.

“What would you like to drink?” she asked me.

“A martini” I answered not really thinking and only saying the first mix that came to mind.

She called a bartender and asked him to make 2 martinis.

“Ok, let’s get down to business now! You are a journalist and nobody tonight needs to know that. It would destroy the ambiance,” she said sternly.

“This is the main entrance. On the other side of the bar there are several rooms, each with a theme. One is a lounge room with couches, another is a spa with a hot tub, another is a BDSM room, and then there is a room with all mirrors and beanbags. Another has beds and a few smaller more private rooms. You will see later.” She handed me a martini as she took a sip of hers.

“There is no forced participation, everything is by consent and people do as much as they are comfortable with.”

“We are expecting about 6 couples tonight, and about 3 single women. There may be others who have not called beforehand. It is a Halloween party so everyone is coming dressed up.” Felicity looked me up and down and said, “You are dressed as if you are going to work.”

I replied quickly. “Well! Yes, I wore this navy skirt and jacket to work today.”

“Well, you are going to stand out like a sore thumb. Come around with me to the back and I will give you something more appropriate to wear for a Halloween party”.

I followed behind Felicity as she stepped on a stool and looked around in the cupboard at the back of what appeared to be the admin office.

“Here this should fit you, it’s stretchy, and it’s more in the theme of Halloween than your work clothes. It’s also the only thing I have to give you, so put it on.” Felicity handed me a black spandex dress.

“Put your clothes in this bag and I will return it to you when you want to leave. It will be safe with me, so leave your purse and handbag in it too!” Felicity continued talking in an assertive tone, while dropping a plastic white bag by my feet and then walking away to answer the doorbell.

I stayed in this half-lit office and I took off my navy jacket and then unbuttoned my blouse and laid them on the desk. I unzipped my skirt and let it drop to the floor. I then peeled off my skin coloured pantyhose and for a moment I could not believe I was standing in a strange office in a swingers club in only my white Lacey 32A bra and a pair of black sheer thong panties. It felt surreal. I lifted up the stretchy black dress. I stepped my feet into it and I pulled the material up over my hips and then slid the straps over my shoulders. The material was stretchy and it stretched tight around my hips and butt. It was quite short probably ending just at the bottom of my butt. Before I could turn around to look in the mirror to see how short and how tight the dress was, Felicity was back to collect me.

“Great that fits you like a glove; it’s only a pity you insist on wearing that bra underneath. It looks a sight,” she said, looking at me in a way that made me feel even more self conscious.

“Don’t you have anything else I can wear? I feel uncomfortable in this,” I replied to Felicity.

“Well we don’t provide clothes; we are not a clothes shop, unless of course you want to borrow my swimsuit from my gym bag?” Felicity asked me.

“Actually, I will take you up on that” I answered.

She opened up a black bag and pulled out a light blue bikini bottom which had string tie on sides and a stringy triangular top.

Felicity just stood there, waiting for me to try it on. I would have preferred if she just left me in some privacy. I had to just do it as she was standing there watching over me. I pulled the very tight spandex dress off me, and slipped out of my undies and into the bikini. It fitted me well, except the rather big top, so my small pert breasts were drowning in it.

Amanda escorted me back into the club and switched off the lights behind us. She led the way and guided me into a darkish room with mirrors on all the walls and ceiling. There were mattresses along the front wall. My eyes adjusted and although I was the only one standing there was a couple already on the mattress.

“This will give you a taste of what happens here,” Amanda said as she left me standing there and took off to answer the bell.

I focused in on a woman leaning forward with her naked butt facing me. She was well tanned with a g-string-tan. She was leaning forward and giving a guy a blowjob. I could not see exactly what was happening, but it felt surreal to be watching this. I stood there transfixed almost scared to move from my position, my eyes glued on this blonde head bobbing up and down.

I was the only person there, watching and it made me feel uncomfortable. I looked around and saw the dimly lit side lamps reflecting on the mirrors. I noticed 3 big steps behind me which stretched across the room like a stadium and I sat on the front step facing the, I suppose you can call it stage or mattress, whatever…

There was music playing in the background but I still heard the sucking noise as this woman went up and down on this guy with her lips engorged around his penis. I don’t think they noticed me. I felt like a sore thumb watching this couple and I started feeling really uncomfortable.

The woman and man switched positions and he was now on his knees and the woman lay down on her back. I think they noticed me as they turned around but in the light it was difficult to see if they did. I did notice that they were probably only a few years older than I was, maybe in their mid thirties. They also had quite well shaped and toned bodies. I had a better view now.

I realised that I was staring at this guy’s scrotum and ball’s. His legs were parted slightly and they were right in view as he leaned down to lick her nipples. She had tiny breasts with hard nipples and he was licking them slowly. I find myself in a trance again as I stared at his balls and butt. He was totally shaved. I had only heard of guys having a “Brazilian” but never seen it before. They were so big and round and full like ripe apples. He had a sexy round butt. He must have been waxed. I always had a weakness for a man’s butt and would check that out on a guy, but balls were never something I took notice of. The thought of my boyfriend’s hairy balls flashed through my mind. He loved it when I caressed them during foreplay but I never thought of them as separate from the penis. They all sort of blended in together under a lot of pubic hair. These balls seemed different. They stood out and had a bold presence.

Something inside me just clicked, and I felt an urge to touch this strange guy’s smooth big balls. I could not understand where this deep-seated animalistic urge was coming from, but I felt my body respond with tingles. Was I getting horny? I couldn’t be. I tried to think of something else.

What was I going to do tomorrow? My best friend Susan was coming over and we were going shopping together. I was fascinated and had to turn back and watch what was happening. This distraction was not working. He was now eating her pussy as her hands were reaching between his legs and her hands clasped around his balls. Her index finger reached over his balls and she pushed it into his anus. She was massaging his balls while pushing her forefinger right into his anus. He was moaning and gyrating his butt into her finger. I had never done that before. The anus was a no-no. You don’t go there. No!

Suddenly I heard her scream loudly. He was still licking her pussy; she lifted her legs around his butt and was stretching her toes out. I think she was having an orgasm. Hearing these sounds made it all so real. It was like I was on the set of a porn movie. How was I going to describe all this in the article?

I suddenly looked around and noticed another couple making themselves comfortable and taking a place on the mattress in front of me. A single girl was standing near me watching. She walked in with the couple. The couple was still dressed in Halloween costume. She was in a short leather skirt and a halter-top made out of chains, with her breasts exposed. He was in a black gown with a mask on. This place was crazy.

I looked towards the entrance door and thought a strong drink would be good for me so I stood up and went along to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. There was a couple and 2 girls ordering. They were also very scantily dressed, in revealing clothes you could probably only buy on the Internet. I never dreamed of anyone dressing like this in public. I got my drink and afraid to make conversation with any of these people in case they got the wrong idea. I quickly took my drink and went back into the dark long room where I was before.

The alcohol was working. I felt more relaxed with things. The couple I was looking at earlier was still at it, but they were now having sex. The girl was facing him and on top of him. She had her hands on his chest as she bobbed up and down on him. They were both groaning and moaning with each thrust. Hearing these sounds of pleasure from strangers yet so close to me got my hormones in a spin. I started to feel a bit hornier. I was really feeling the world spinning around me from the alcohol, so I got up and walked into the next room where I found an outside balcony. I stood there alone breathing in the fresh air and wondering how much longer I would have to wait until this evening would be over. As I leaned over the railing, two girls came out on to the balcony and stood beside me. They were talking to each other. The one girl had long blond hair and was wearing a body hugging short, short white dress, which barely covered her ass. The other girl standing right next to her had brown hair and she wore black bootleg lacy panties and was topless. They were talking to each other as the brown haired girl had her hand holding the blonde’s butt. I watched as her hand pulled the dress up and continued to stroke her ass.

The butt was well shaped, small and tight. They were obviously a couple as the blond responded by putting her arms around the other girl’s back. This was so surreal for me to see. I had only read about this sort of stuff in magazines. The hand on the butt now pulled the dress up and was holding a naked cheek. The material was pulled up higher and I noticed that the blond had no panties on. The hand was clutching the girl’s butt cheeks, with her dress now riding up on her waist. The hand moved down to the bottom of the cheeks and she put a finger between the girl’s butt and was rubbing up and down. I looked on horrified and saw that the girl was thrusting her finger in and out of what must have been the blonde’s pussy. I noticed that the blond had tiny short red hairs around her pussy. She must have waxed it there a few weeks back. I could see the two lips stick out between her butt and I could see the finger rubbing up and down the blond girl’s clitoris. I then heard a sigh and a moan of pleasure.

I was in a bit of a drunken state of shock. I just stood there and watched hoping they would not notice me staring at them. Suddenly, without warning, the girls looked back and noticed me standing alone a few feet away from them.

The blonde turned her head towards me and said, “we are so sorry, we didn’t realise you were here. They moved to the side and they turned to face me. I could not help myself stare at the one girl’s tits. They were huge for a girl with such a petite figure.

“Come over and chat,” the blonde called over to me.

I shyly walked up to them.

“You look like this is your first time here. Is it?”

“Yes, how did you guess” I replied.

“You just have that look. Also your bikini top looks ridiculously big for you. Take it off,” the one girl continued in a firm voice.

I didn’t respond. I was numb from the alcohol.

The girls were now standing facing me and the blonde moved up towards me and undid the knot holding my bikini top around my neck. As it fell free from my breasts the one girl grabbed onto it and pulled it away from my reach.

“You look much better like this,” the blonde said to me as both girls stared at my breasts.

It was not like it was my first time topless. I tan this way on the beach, but it felt strange in a nightclub setting at night.

I did not feel comfortable and instinctively folded my arms in front of my breasts.

“Come and sit down with us and tell us how your new experience has been?” the girl in the white dress asked me, as the two girls walked over to these huge beanbags at the end of the balcony.

They sat down on one beanbag and I sat on the beanbag next to them. The blonde stood up again and pulled off her white dress and sat down alongside me on my beanbag. She was totally nude. The other girl then pulled her panties off and looked over at me.

“The rule here is that no clothes are allowed on the beanbags” the blonde said to me smiling.

There was no way I was going to take off my bikini bottom.

I replied to her, “So should I get up then, as I am not taking anything more off?”

The blonde responded, “Look if you don’t want to play the game why are you here?”

I decided to be honest with them.

“I am a journalist and I am writing a story on what actually goes on at swingers clubs,” I told them.

“Really!” the blonde replied.

“Yes this is the truth” I answered.

“Well then you will need to see a little bit more,” the brunette muttered as she climbed up onto the thighs of the blonde.

I was lying back on the beanbag only centimeters away from the girls as they kissed and fondled each others breasts. The blonde was lying back on the beanbag as the brunette slowly sucked her nipples into an erection. I was amazed and transfixed at the same time. The brunette slowly moved down the beanbag and lay down between the blonde’s legs. She parted the blonde’s thighs with her hands and she then went down with her mouth and was licking away at the blonde’s clit. Utterances and moans of pleasure started to come out of her mouth. I felt myself starting to get aroused at this. My felt my nipples harden, so I squeezed my arms into them as if to hide my response.

The two girls were now engrossed with each other. The sounds had grown louder. The brunette had turned around and the blonde was now sucking her pussy from underneath as the brunette continued to flicker her tongue around the blonde’s clit. I had a close on view of the brunette’s pussy being licked and sucked. I watched as my urge to touch grew and grew. I felt my own pussy start warming up and yearn for a finger to slowly caress away at my swollen clit until it was pleasured.

I tried to distract myself. I looked at my watch. It was midnight, and I had told my boyfriend that I would be home at 1am. I started thinking about having steamy sex when I got home all aroused and excited. I imagined my boyfriend sucking my clit and playing with my pussy until it was dripping juices.

The brunette got up and turned around looking at me.

“Look what you are missing,” she said to me as she glanced starry eyed at me.

She raised herself up of off the beanbag and came close to me as if she was going to whisper something in my ear.

“I want to fuck you,” she said, and with that she pulled the knot out of my string yanked it so hard it came right off me. In a sweeping stroke she threw it over the balcony. My pussy was naked to the air of the night. She looked down at it.

“You have a nice little stripe there” she mumbled and as I closed my legs tightly together, she, with a strong opposite force, pushed my knees outwards and she quickly came down on my pussy with her mouth. I had never felt a sensation like this before. I felt her lips softly bite around my vulva and then I felt my inner juices start to well. She glided her tongue with purpose up and down my pussy. With each warm breath against my sensitive skin I felt a mixture of fear, anxiety and immense pleasure. Wave after wave of throbbing like lightning strikes started to pulse through my core.

“Stop fighting it,” the blonde commanded me, as she lightly stroked my breasts.

My breasts were being sensually awakened with soft touches, as if the blonde was a goddess who knew exactly how and when to touch them to extract every possible sensation at just the right moment.

My nipples were alive with electricity. The sensation was the strongest sexual stimulation I had ever felt so I closed my eyes and went with the rhythm. Her fingers rolled across my nipples squeezing them and twirling them.

This was all too good to be true. I decided I was going to just let myself be taken along for the journey. I opened up myself and my min suspended all judgment. I let my brain switch off and allowed myself to ride the waves, wherever they took me.

The brunette placed her hands on my inner thighs and pushed my knees apart. She continued and opened them wide. I felt the air blow across my clit. It was all swollen and damp. I yearned for a deep cock to plunge into me and fuck me hard. My inhibitions hade melted away. I widened my legs to invite these girls to give me more. I opened my eyes to see her breasts close by. I reached up and touched them. This was the first time I had touched another woman’s breasts. They were much larger than mine and I enjoyed feeling the nipples grow under my touch

She looked at me in the eyes as she pushed her index finger into pussy. I felt it and tightened my muscles to suck it in more and more.

I was used to my own finger or my boyfriend’s fingers exploring me inside. This was different. It was an experienced finger, which knew exactly the right way, speed and pressure to touch in all the right places. Something only I had been able to do. Having a woman who intimately knew this was unbelievable.

My pussy was experiencing tingling little orgasms repeatedly, but my urge only grew more and more. She bent her neck backwards and let out a gasping sound. She then leaned forwards on my and kissed me on my mouth. Her lips were soft but firm and I don’t know why I did, but I let our lips open as we kissed each other with passion. Our tongues flickered against each others. I was floating. I felt fingers touch my clit and rub it in circles. As I tensed, I thrust my thighs and hips up into the touch to get more of it. I grabbed her butt and squeezed it. I was having an orgasm.

I pulled her butt towards me with such force that her fingers dislodged off my throbbing cunt. I had an animalistic urge which consumed me. I pulled her pussy close to me until her lips were rubbing against mine, pussy against pussy. I thrust myself into her and she responded by thrusting herself into me. I put my hand around the back of her head and pulled her face into mine and I kissed her hard. I felt her solid nipples make contact against my breasts. Our hips were gyrating against each other, our clitorises rubbing against each other with raw lust. She paused, pressed her arms against me as she leaned back and as she screamed loudly as a smile came over her face. I felt the most intense orgasm at the same time.

We were drenched in each others sweat. My hair was soaked. She got up off my body and sat next to me. It felt like we knew each other for years. This was a new world of sensation for me. I knew I would want more again, soon.

I never included this bi experience in my article, but I met up with the brunette again in secret. Her name turned out to be Marissa. My boyfriend never knew about any of these encounters.

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On our way home from dinner with friends, my wife and I enjoy talking about who among our friends we could imagine having sex with. These conversations get especially interesting when the woman I could imagine having sex with is married to the man my wife could imagine having sex with. Naturally, this raises the question of a “swap.”

Is there a protocol for suggesting to another couple that they entertain the idea of a “swap?” Or does it just require getting everyone really drunk?

Just Curious

Robert McGinley is President of the North American Swing Club Association (NASCA), has a Ph.D. in psychology, and has been called the “swingers’ guru” more times than he cares to remember.

“In my experience, it is not a wise idea, and rarely successful, to try to introduce one’s dinner companions to swinging unless you’re sure that couple is interested or already involved in swing activities,” Robert said when I shared your letter with him. “Good friends are hard to find, so why risk mucking up a friendship by making an advance? Also, if the other couple is shocked, they may tell others of your advance, affecting other friendships. Far better to go to a swing club, one that is couple-oriented, and make new friends who are already into swinging.”

Robert would give that advice, wouldn’t he? As the head of a trade association for swing clubs, it’s Robert’s job to direct horny married couples to NASCA’s paying members, and discourage freelance swinging. But conflicts of interest aside, I have to say I agree with Robert. When it comes to major kink–and swinging is major–it’s best to meet like-minded pervs through like-minded perv organizations or at like-minded perv bars or parties. At NASCA’s inevitable website (www.nasca.com), you’ll find listings for swing clubs all over the world. “Look up clubs in the state you live in,” Robert suggested, “and call the clubs that sound interesting.” I went online and found eight clubs where you live, JC.

What kind of people will you meet? “Couples involved in swinging are the cream of the crop,” said Robert–but again, Robert would have to say that. The head of NASCA is not going to say, “swingers are scum,” is he? But once again, I’m going to back Robert up: Some of my best friends are swingers, and some are the cream of the crop. “The last study I saw put the median age for men at 39, and 36 for women,” Robert said. “These people are married, they have careers, they have families. Swinging is a couples activity. They have their act together and know what’s what.”

But what if you’re attracted to one particular couple who aren’t swingers? Should you get them drunk–a move I recommend frequently–and make a pass? “Oh, boy, that is a no-no from the word go,” said Robert. “Even if it works, there can be a lot of repercussions once everyone sobers up. And why would you want to be drunk when you have sex? Getting drunk greatly inhibits the ability to be sexual. Swinging should always be entered into by knowledgeable, sober, consenting adults.”

This is where Robert and I part company. Yeah, yeah, yeah; everything should be entered into by knowledgeable, sober, consenting adults–but that’s not the way the world works when the world wants to get off, is it? My advice: Get your friends blasted and work swinging into the conversation. There’s a new documentary film about swinging called The Lifestyle, and it’s making the rounds on the festival circuit. See it, or claim to have seen it, and tell your friends about it–when they’re blasted. Without saying anything pro-swing or con-swing, feel your friends out on the swap topic. If they’re pro-swing, pounce–make that pass. If they’re con-swing, get ‘em a little drunker, and see if they don’t come around to a pro-swing position.

In addition to his many duties at NASCA, Robert also runs the Lifestyle Organization, whose 26th annual convention will be held in Reno, Nevada this weekend–where everyone will be stone-cold sober, no doubt. “There’ll be four dances,” Robert told me, “and seminars on sexuality, relationships, growth, and medical issues–and a lot of socializing.” But no drinking, of course. You can get more info about the convention by visiting–you guessed it–Lifestyle Organization’s inevitable website, www.lifestyles.org.

Before I let Robert off the phone, I had one more question: Has the late ’90s resurgence of swing dancing resulted in the North American Swing Club Association getting calls from people looking for dance lessons and not pervy, middle-aged married couples? “Yeah,” Robert said, laughing. “Not very many, but some. We tell them we’re not swing dancers. They laugh, say they’re sorry, and go away.”

My fiancé and I were frequently intimate when we were boyfriend and girlfriend. But since we got engaged, we haven’t done much. Any advice?

Really Curious

Don’t get married.

Have you heard of a gay sex practice called “decanting”? As it was told to me, one man catheterizes himself to empty his bladder, and then refills his bladder with wine to serve to guests at a very posh gay club. Is this real? While not universally appealing, urine is sterile and the bladder is a very clean place. Is a glass filled from the penis, or does it go directly into the mouth? Any light you could shed on this would be great.

Curious

No, I haven’t heard of “decanting,” nor have I heard of “mudslides” (gay men crapping and pissing in a room filled with dirt), nor “donkey punching” (gay men knocking their sex partners out with a blow to the back of the head as they fuck), nor “booger planting” (gay men with small penises fucking gay men with large noses in the nostrils), nor “pigs in a blanket” (gay men wrapping sausages in pancakes and serving them to friends with butter and syrup), nor any of the other bizarre and implausible “gay” sex practices straight people are absolutely obsessed with. Are any of these things “real?” Only in the imaginations of some straight people whose sex lives are so dull, they have to make up bullshit about mine.

Speaking of bullshit: Just Shoot Me star David Spade used the word “fag” in an interview with Playboy magazine, sending the fags over at the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation into a press-release writing frenzy. Spade joked that Just Shoot Me producers were constantly trying “to fag me up… [but] when I get too faggy, they have me make out with a chick.” GLAAD spokesfag Scott Seomin slammed Spade for using “derogatory” and “hurtful” terms, claiming “fag” and “faggy” are comparable to “racial or ethnic slurs,” and demanded that Spade apologize.

David, don’t worry about anything GLAAD says–most gays and lesbians don’t–and don’t apologize. If Scott Seomin didn’t find things to get upset about, he’d be out of a job. The vast majority of gays and lesbians use the word “fag” as a noun, a verb, and an adjective, and “fag” really isn’t comparable to racial or ethnic slurs like, oh, say, nigger or kike. Gays and lesbians have “Dyke Marches,” wear T-shirts with fruit jokes on them, and chant “fags and dykes and queers, oh my!” at demonstrations. The word is so commonly used by gay men that we can’t object when straight comedians use it too, and in the exact same way we do: not as a slur, but as a joke. Get over it, GLAAD.

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I spent this past weekend at an event called “Wet Spot in Paradise,” Wet Spot’s annual campout for the sex-positive community. I didn’t have any big scenes planned. I just wanted to hang out in the sunshine, gab with friends, and maybe meet some different people. Which I did.

You see, WSIP isn’t a strictly BDSM event, so some of the attendees were from what I sometimes think of as that other group of alt-sex folks: the swingers’ community. It’s funny: Since swingers and kinky people both catch shit from outsiders, you’d think that would make for camaraderie between us. But when we’re thrown together socially, sometimes it’s like the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. Over here, the swingers who think BDSM is sick and wrong. Over there, the BDSM people who find casual partner-swapping sleazy and shallow. We aren’t terribly friendly.

I admit I’ve been a bit dismissive about swinging. I went to some swing parties, and while nothing awful happened, I was left with an “is that it?” feeling. The sex seemed flat and mechanical, and I was put off by some swinger cultural norms. For example, in BDSM circles, it’s a faux pas–or worse–to touch casual acquaintances unless they’ve invited you to do so. I’ve verbally flayed strangers who put their hands on me without asking permission. Such reserve doesn’t fit well with swingers, who are given to lots of social touching, even with people they’ve just met.

So when the gentleman sitting beside me at the picnic table touched my leg several times in our first five minutes of conversation, I knew, without being told, that he was a swinger. But, hey, I was nice; I didn’t bite his head off. And I’m glad, because as we continued chatting, he told me about how he used to be extremely anti-BDSM. Then a sexy young thing said to him, “I’ll fuck you if you let me flog you.” After a short brain vs. cock struggle, he accepted and–surprise–he enjoyed it. It changed his whole point of view about kink.

It was an encouraging story, and his candor about his revised perceptions made me think I should be more open-minded about swingers. I’m still not sure swingers’ parties hold anything for me, but it might be worth another pass, just to see. Besides, I’m thinking I could make an offer to some of those Slytherin people that would bring them over to Gryffindor House. Hey, I’ve gotta be true to my school.

Reference

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It’s almost 2:30 in the morning.

I glance around the living room of a particularly lovely condo. On the couch, a woman lounges while a man licks her pussy. Another woman stands behind the couch, stroking the woman’s breasts. On the large ottoman, a woman is passionately engaged with two men. On a blanket in front of the fireplace, my husband’s face is buried between the legs of a beautiful brunette.

I know he’s hoping she’ll pull his hair-hard-as she orgasms.

Moans, cries, and other sounds can be heard from nearby bedrooms. Myself? I’m snuggling with two dear friends, exhausted but enthralled.

The party actually started earlier tonight in the large VIP room at the back of an upscale downtown nightclub. (Don’t worry, swingers, a reporter did not infiltrate our party. I’m a swinger, too, and my husband and I cherish our privacy and yours.) The room was reserved just for us, to protect the sensibilities and avoid the prying eyes of the nonswingers in the main areas of the bar. But by 10:00 p.m., with more than 100 couples packed into the back room, I didn’t think it looked significantly different from a regular Friday night at any other club.

But maybe I’m a bit desensitized.

It was too packed for much dancing, but several groups of women found ways to writhe and grind together in the crowd. The room was filled with short skirts, but there were very few pairs of panties. Looking around, I spotted at least three pairs of women in darker corners of the bar doing things with fingers and tongues to the darker corners of one another’s anatomies. I’ve heard that these sorts of things sometimes go on at Cowgirls Inc. and Tiki Bob’s, too, only without the “swingers” label.

This party was only the foreplay. It’s at these parties in bars or dance clubs that my husband and I go to meet people we find attractive. We talk and dance and perhaps negotiate what sorts of sexual activities we’d like to share, and then we head somewhere more private. It is often the female halves of couples who “seal the deal,” arranging for all four members of two couples to get together later to have sex. In fact, we’ve noticed that it’s increasingly common for the woman to have brought the couple into swinging in the first place.

Tonight, we left the club around midnight with a group of about 16 people and reconvened at the condo.

My husband and I have been in love since we met at college. We’re in our late 20s now, and we’ve been married for several years. We were sexually adventurous from the beginning, fucking outdoors, in windows, and in positions we’ve never seen replicated in any sex manual. Then in early 2003, we read a wide-eyed report by a writer who was investigating swinging. We were intrigued, and that article prompted us to take our first steps toward finding clubs, parties, and other couples.

We had some missteps early in our explorations. There were times when we didn’t firmly say “no” when approached by overly aggressive people. There were also times when we should have left a club or party, parties where some people weren’t using condoms or the door security was lax. We had to work to develop our own set of boundaries. And we learned to only push our boundaries when we’re ready, not when others pressure us.

What do couples get out of swinging? It varies. Some mostly-straight women find a safe outlet for their bisexuality. (I’m convinced that more and more married women are telling their husbands, “I love you, honey, but I need pussy, too.”) For other couples, it’s a way to fulfill each other’s fantasies, like a woman’s secret desire to have sex with several men at once or a man’s usually not-so-secret desire to have sex with multiple women.

What do we get out of it? My husband loves to experience different types of connections with different people, and he finds spontaneous sexual connections more rewarding than restrained cocktail-party conversation. I love to feel the sexual energy of a crowd swell. When I’m at the center of that swell, I feel my own sexual energy magnified and reflected back by everyone around me.

Otherwise, we’re a fairly normal young couple with normal jobs, a cute house near Green Lake, and interests other than swinging. Our lives only deviate from the mainstream straight-urban-couple lifestyle in our intense, expressive, adventurous sexuality.

One thing we learned early on was that real swingers’ parties bear very little resemblance to their film and television portrayals. The depictions of swingers parties you’ve seen on Nip/Tuck and Desperate Housewives, or in the 1997 film The Ice Storm, are totally inaccurate. Looking around the party, I am struck by just how different the swinging scene really is.

The most notable differences?

Everyone at the party is having fun. In most tales of swinging, one spouse has been coerced into it and the night usually ends badly as a result. Fights, tears, recriminations-I’ve seen none of that at tonight’s party.

Which is not to say that it doesn’t happen. Swingers describe couples where one partner has coerced the other into participating, or couples who participate due to a lack of sexual passion for each other, as couples with “drama.” Couples who are overly aggressive or who are insulted by perceived rejection can also cause tension. Swinging is not easy, and jealousy and rejection are real complications; they’re something my husband and I had to work through. But like many other couples, we’ve found that as long as you are genuinely caring for your partner, those complications can be overcome, and the personal benefits of swinging-should you desire them-are more than worth the effort.

Other differences between our party and the last one you saw on basic cable? No one is falling-down drunk. There are condoms strewn here and there-and they’re being used. And while I find everyone in the room attractive, we’re all just normal people. The 16 of us enjoying the afterparty aren’t the Hollywood types shown in Nip/Tuck, nor are we the unkempt-accountant stereotypes in Desperate Housewives. (Sorry, accountants.) We’re the cute couples who live down the street whose idea of a fun Friday night is more sexually charged than most.

Watching my husband with a beautiful woman’s legs wrapped around his head or his waist is a source of intense pleasure for me. He also loves watching me, when I’m in the center of one of those swells of sexual energy.

Earlier in the night, I was dancing with my ass pressed into the hips of an obviously well-endowed man and my legs entwined with those of a long, lean woman. I caught my husband gazing at me.

It was a moment of surprisingly sweet connection, as we both silently acknowledged our love for each other. I blew him a kiss. It was a promise that we would fuck like tigers later, just the two of us.

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The doctor asked what happened and the man explains: Well, doc, it’s like this: First I tried with my right hand, but, nothing. Then I tried with-my left hand, but still nothing. Then I asked my wife for help. She – tried with her right hand, with nothing. Then her left, but nothing. She – even tried with her mouth, first with the teeth in, then with the teeth-out, and still nothing. We even called up the lady next door and-she tried with both hands and her mouth too, but nothing.

The doctor was shocked! You asked your neighbor? and your wifes o.k. with that the old man replied,Sure! My wifes an adult. In fact the lady nest door is over all the time, but no matter what we tried we couldn’t get the DAMN jar open!

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During his walk he runs in to a disheveled homeless man who asks for some money. He replies to the homeless man:

If I give you some money, will you spend it on booze? No replied the homeless man I don’t drink

If I give you some money will you spend it partying with you’re friends like that guy in the van down by the river? Absolutely not he said, I gave up partying long time ago.

If I give you some money will you spend it on a hooker? Not a chance the homeless guy said I’m just trying to survive here, I don’t do those kinda things.

The man paused a second and said In that case, I’ll take you home with me and my wife will cook you a fantastic dinner. I don’t know the homeless man replied, I’m very dirty, I’m a mess and I smell bad.

That’s okay, said the man I just want my wife to see what happens to a guy who doesn’t drink, party or have sex

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He watched them both like a hawk all week to try and decide whom to give their cards but as usual both were on the ball.

He watched Jane from his office as she took a couple of aspirin after a particularly hard night and decided to talk to her.

Jane he said I’m gonna have to lay you or Jack off

Jane answered, Can you jack off…I have a head ache

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Damn, this was a hot couple. We were newbies, with only a few experiences at clubs. We’d met them at a club and really clicked. Things heated up on the dance floor and we eventually ended up in a hotel room.

We agreed to meet again for dinner. Conversation flowed easily. They were funny, professional, and sexy. She wore a form fitting cocktail dress that complimented a body I already knew was flawless. He was dressed to the nines and had a smooth confidence and witty ease that was pushing all my wife’s buttons. As we talked, flirted, and surreptitiously groped under the table, my mind would wander excitedly to where the evening might lead.

Then, in response to an innocuous comment from my wife, came the question from him. “You guys aren’t Christians, are you?”

I froze. The answer to the question was, and is, “yes.” But I feared that saying that would come at a cost. This was a sexy, smart, fun couple. We had great chemistry with them. And we were new enough to think that such couples were hard to find in the lifestyle.

They knew we were swingers. Now they wanted to know if we were Christians, too. Can you even be both? I had always heard that anything other than missionary sex with your wife was sinful. And if you’re a Christian you should try your best not to sin. So when we started to look at swinging, I examined the Bible to see what it really said about sex.

I was shocked by what I found, because it was in conflict of so much of what I had always heard about Christian theology. Simply put, according to the Bible no consensual sexual practices among adults are sinful.

First, the bible has nothing to say on the subjects of masturbation or oral sex. The only sexual practice that is clearly condemned is rape.

And there are lots of passages about how great sex is. Lots and lots. The Old Testament is packed with passages espousing the wonder and thrill of sex, and repeatedly emphasizes the importance of a healthy sex life to happiness. You’ll find (often with great detail) descriptions of same-gender sex, group sex, premarital sex, extramarital sex, polyamory, and a host of other swinging-related practices. We didn’t invent this stuff.

I knew my wife wanted to explore her bisexuality. And guess what – that’s ok, too. There are only four verses in the entire old testament that explicitly address the issue of same-gender sex, which suggests that the subject was relatively unimportant at the time. I found out that the well-known passage in Leviticus appearing to condemn homosexual sex is the result of an early mistranslation. Properly translated, it actually appears to acknowledge that such sex was common in their culture (more common than in ours). It is at best inaccurate to use scripture to condemn consensual same-gender sex.

In contrast to its position on same gender sex, the Bible clearly condemns adultery, but only as a violation of property rights. In Biblical times, adultery was defined as having sex with another man’s wife or concubine without his permission, not as having sex outside of marriage. Indeed, there are several instances in the Old Testament where extra-marital sex is presented as a laudable practice, or is even required by ritual law, so long as it is done with permission. Having permission is the most fundamental tenet of the lifestyle, so swinging cannot be adultery as defined in the Bible.

Moving on to the New Testament: Jesus Christ had nothing to say about sex. That bears repeating: Jesus Christ had nothing to say about sex. So if we want to follow him, we don’t have specific instructions on what we can and cannot do in the bedroom; rather, we should conform our sexual practices to his message of faith, hope, and love. We can certainly be part of the Lifestyle and still strive to align our actions to those three things.

Certain of Paul’s writings have been used to justify theological sexual oppression. But two things should be kept in mind when reading his letters. First, Paul was a theologian, like Saint Augustine, or C.S. Lewis, or the minister who lives on your street. His writings are often treated as Gospel but they are not. Moreover, we only have some of his letters, and it is impossible to understand what he was trying to say without being aware of the context. Many of his most oft-quoted sexual condemnations are taken completely out of context.

Unfortunately, prevailing Christian theology was incompatible with healthy sexuality for so long that many swingers recoil at the thought of interacting with Christians. So as the question, “you guys aren’t Christians, are you?” hung over the dinner table, a fierce debate raged in my head. This couple had great value to us. We didn’t want to lose them. I looked at him. I glanced over at his wife. My eyes wandered briefly to her magnificent, tanned breasts, framed perfectly by her plunging neckline. She answered with a dazzling smile. Did I mention that we didn’t want to lose them?

But in the end, I had no choice. Many of Jesus’ teachings are ambiguous or difficult to interpret. But many are not, and one of them is that we must never deny it when asked if we follow him. If we have chosen to have a relationship with our creator through Jesus, that choice must be public and unwavering.

I said, “yes,” my heart pounding. And nothing happened. The conversation went on. We finished dinner. We went dancing. We went to a hotel. And we… well, you know. We’re still friends to this day.

I learned an important lesson that evening. I learned that I can express my religious beliefs to my community and still be accepted.

This is a very important subject, because as Christians we are commanded to spread the good news of God’s love and forgiveness, and many people feel they cannot be Christians and still have happy sex lives. I found out that you can. Just like in the Lifestyle, in Christianity there is room for everyone. If you don’t believe me, take a look for yourself. You’ll see.

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As soon as the foreman had given them warning to stay til 7pm and disappeared the two friends knocked off. Dave, worried that his wife would hassle him for not putting the hours in decided to stay away from home and pop to the local swingers club. As he entered he noticed a large crowd were gathered round the voyeur window. Curious, he went and looked into the room to see his wife being spit roasted by the foreman and another guy.

The next day the foreman issued his warning about knocking off before 7pm and left. Mick turned to Dave and said, Are we knocking off again mate?

Fuck off said Dave, I nearly got caught yesterday!

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