“You were asking about our local swingers’ group,” said Miles. “I think I’ll let Julie tell you about that. The fact is, the group is really run by the women.”
“That’s right,” said Julie. “It’s very easy for women to feel threatened when there are a lot of sexed-up men around. To counteract that we have a few ground rules. Rule one is that the group is there for recreational sex only. We don’t have sex with our usual partners. The entire point of this is to do something quite different. It is expected that everyone will have fun, and do something sexual, but not something they could just as well do at home. Generally, we expect that people will do something more than just watch. Watching can be fun, of course, but you can do that at home, too, with the modern Internet. Rule two is that everything — absolutely everything — must be consensual. If you want to do something, you ask, or you are invited. The point is, groups like this are not illegal, but they would be if they allowed any kind of force or coercion.”
“Doesn’t that make it very formal?” I asked. “I mean, if you have to keep second-guessing what people want it might take a lot of the fun out of it.”
“It might in theory. In practice, there is no problem, even if it seems a bit artificial at first. People soon get used to asking if they’re in any doubt. After all, how hard is it to ask ‘Is it OK if I join in?’ or maybe ‘Is it OK if I touch your breasts?’, or even ‘Would you like to have sex with me?’ Rule three is simple and inviolable: safe sex at all times. We use condoms. The only exception is when a man is going to ejaculate outside his partner’s body — if it’s a hand job, basically. Coming unprotected on someone is OK, if they agree, but not in someone!”
This was all sensible stuff. We had heard of the American swingers’ group who didn’t use safe sex and all got AIDS.
“And is that it?” asked Mary.
“That’s it. It’s pretty common sense, really. We meet here once a month, about 20 of us, and we announce meetings by email. It’s always on a Saturday, at about 6pm, and usually around the beginning of the month. You can bring alcohol if you want, and even food; a lot of people do. We don’t provide refreshments, except water. Just don’t get drunk and disorderly, and if you want a good time don’t get drunk and incapable! By the way, we generally wear dressing gowns, with nothing underneath. That makes for convenience. But if you enjoy stripping, or being stripped by someone, wear whatever you feel like.”
“So is next Saturday the next meeting?” said Mary.
“That’s right. Have a think about it. By all means take your time if you want to discuss it. There’s no pressure. It isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but you’d be welcome if you want to come. Pun intended. If it’s warm, we will leave the side gate open, and you can just come round to the back.”
To cut a long story short, we did indeed arrange to come the following Saturday — pun or not. We didn’t have the foursome with Miles and Julie, though I thought there were signs it might be a possibility for the future.
* * *
So, the following Saturday we arrived at the house again, armed with a bottle of wine. It was summer, so the sky stayed light until late on, and it was warm enough for Miles and Julie to have left the garden doors open. We found them sitting in the hot tub again, with some other naked people this time, and they waved and introduced us. There were some sun loungers lying around, but they were being used simply to dump clothes on. We had brought our dressing gowns in a sports bag, and quickly changed into them. We weren’t generally worried about nakedness, and obviously nobody else was, so changing in public wasn’t a problem.
“Well,” said Mary. “The hot tub is a bit full, so shall we just walk around a minute?”
We wandered about the extensive garden, and noticed a young woman sitting on a bench. She had a white dressing gown on, but was very careless about how it hung open at the front. Her cleavage and much else was on open view. Mary and I just looked at each other, but before we could do anything two young men came up, also wearing dressing gowns. They obviously knew her, and she smiled at them.
“You’re eager this evening,” she said. “Are you both offering your services?”
They quickly said they were. Mary and I sat on a bench opposite them, where a man of about their age was already sitting. He had a dressing gown too, but it was hanging open at the front and he appeared to be stroking his cock gently. Meanwhile, the young woman opposite slipped off her dressing gown and stood naked, awaiting some attention. It didn’t take long: the two men threw their dressing gowns to the ground, revealing healthy erections already. There was a muttered discussion between the three of them, and the woman sat down on the bench. It was made of some artificial material, and looked pretty hard, but there was a pile of cushions. She arranged herself on these, and slid her hips towards the edge of the bench. One of the men retrieved a condom from the pocket of his dressing gown and slipped it on. He kneeled down in front of her, and bent towards her breasts, which he sucked to her evident pleasure.
Meanwhile, the other young man had also covered his cock appropriately, but kneeled on the bench next to her. She turned her head, and he slid his cock into her mouth. The other man slid forward, raised himself from her breasts, and slid his cock slowly into her vagina. There were groans of pleasure all round. We were beginning to see that this consent issue might not be much of a problem after all. There was also a groan next to us, from the man who had been fondling his cock. Mary was sitting next to him, and had a grandstand view. The threesome opposite were now lost in what they were doing, and oblivious of any audience.
“Isn’t she magnificent?” breathed the man next to us, now stroking his cock more firmly.
“I agree it’s beautiful to watch,” I said. “Do you know her?”
“She’s my wife.”
I whispered in Mary’s ear: “Do you think he needs a bit of help? He could concentrate on watching then.”
She turned to him. “Can I help you with that?”
He nodded silently, and Mary took out a little tube of lube from her dressing gown pocket, smeared some on her finger, and proceeded with one of her excellent hand jobs. She doesn’t take a cock in her hand, so much as stroke it with a lubed finger. The net result is teasing, exquisitely pleasurable, and leads to the same result. A general rule is that the longer it takes to reach orgasm, the better it is, and this technique allows for varying the speed according to one’s mood. He threw his head back and gasped with pleasure. “That’s amazing.”
I was looking at the threesome opposite. Our friend’s wife was clearly in a state of high excitement. She was licking and sucking on the one man, while her hips were rocking in time to the other one’s thrusts. I figured that somebody was coming soon! Indeed, the thought had hardly crossed my mind when both the woman and the kneeling man began to pant loudly and with increasing energy. She let the other man’s cock fall from her mouth and gripped the other’s shoulders as he increased the speed of his thrusting. Within moments they both began to cry out loudly, as their orgasms hit. He took hold of her hips and pushed himself as far into her as he could possibly get. Her head rocked backwards and forwards in rhythm with her cries. She slid her arms down around his waist and tried to pull him tightly towards her, until the rocking stopped and they slid gently apart, flushed and excited. I took a glance at the man next to us, and saw he was staring fixedly at the scene. Mary was still stroking his cock, and as I watched a spurt of pre-come oozed out of it. She rounded it up with her finger and used it as extra lube. He was groaning regularly now, not far from coming himself.