What I Learned From My Night At A Swinger’s Club

Since I've began attending school for my Master's in Human Sexuality, I've come to learn just how vanilla I am when it comes to sex. Classes have poked and prodded in order to get at my boundaries and, you know what? It's working. But it's also helped me to create a realistic expectation of what exploring my sexuality looks like, as I've honed in on my actual desires to test the boundaries of those things that already give me immense pleasure. I love being bound, getting my ass slapped, and the only thing that's better than a firm smack on my ass, is being brought to an intense orgasm as someone's hand is clenched around my throat while I moan softly searching for air.

Nonetheless, this doesn't necessarily mean I'm ready to be shipped off to a bootcamp for bondage and masochism. So, this is what I mean about testing and pushing the boundaries of my current eroticism. Enter, my story of my night engaging in swingers sex at the swingers club.

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As you may have presumed, this has left me more curious than ever about the kink community. In a desperate search for a play party, I fell short and found an equally seductive swingers club, which I'm also not opposed to. I invited my roommate to come out with me and we were joined by another member of our cohort, and a couple. There was only one of us who had been to a swingers' club or anything like this and it was not me.

For fear of being disappointed, I delayed my expectations until I no longer could, and really the place was what dreams are made of, in the fact that it actually lived up to the hype and public perception of what a swingers' club looks like.

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The minute I walked in, there were rooms on either side of me equipped with makeshift beds and white towels. At the end of the hall, by the first level bar, there was a couple fucking ever-so-casually on the lounge chairs. And me? Well, I was exhilarated! We went upstairs and headed over to the bar before cozying up in a middle booth.

The first thing I did was scope out the room to find Black people and at first there was nothing, but as it got a little later, the place became slightly peppered with melanated couples making me lucky as the only single. Although there was a guy scoping me out for he and his girlfriend, I had my sights set on something else.

As I watched the couple, I remember feeling my clitoris shoot off smoke flares through my pants as I tried to simmer down.

Although I'm never aroused by women giving head in porn, there was something about watching this woman bob and weave on her partner's solid dick that created a tension in my body that could only escape me one way. Doubting myself and what I came for, I kept telling my roommate that I couldn't wait to get home and masturbate. She reminded me that I was more than welcome to do so at the party, a refreshingly new experience to not have to leave the club when you grew too horny of dry humping on the dance floor but I wasn't ready for all of that.

Or, so I thought.

I spent another hour watching this couple, playing coy, and making bathroom runs to get their attention before they and another black couple disappeared from the main floor. Something in me told me that they went off to find somewhere a little more private, and I was right. I followed them downstairs and asked to watch because closer is better! Still mesmerized by the one couple, I completely disregarded the other and finally after coming up for air, the woman asked me if I wanted to join in.

With minimal hesitation, I hopped up and quickly began mimicking the same energy she had been giving him just five minutes earlier. I could see why she was so into it and quite frankly, I forgot what it was like to be so attracted to someone that giving head turned me on uncontrollably. After a short while, I was asked to join them in a private room and I did.

We undressed and this time, the woman went down on me, as I stuffed her partner's penis into the depths of my throat but not beyond my gag reflex. This was all a first for me and it was happening so fast.

Like musical chairs, we all switched and I nibbled on that woman's pussy, probably giving her the worst delivery ever. But instead of her partner ever reciprocating oral sex (rolls eyes), he decided it was time to go to work.

He began unfoiling the condom and that's when sh-t really hit me. Not that I had engaged in a threesome with some random couple that I didn't even exchange names with, but that I literally was the idiot who went balls deep on a stranger's dick without protection and then had the audacity to pull out a condom when the vaginal penetration was about to begin. I mean, really, make it make sense?

Condoms had been an afterthought until that moment and I could not make it make sense.

And because I couldn't make sense of it, I began to freak the f-ck out and although I didn't leave until I got what I came for -- I could no longer just lay back and enjoy the experience.

New to the city, I couldn't speed dial my gyno on the spot but please believe, the next day I was Yelping like nobody's business to find a GYN and ensure that the consequences for compromising my health were nonexistent. And, they were...this time.

Still, this situation highlighted how willing I was to risk it all for a good 15 minutes of leading with my curiosity. Despite what the saying says, curiosity has actually been known to kill the cat, my kitty just so happened to escape untouched. I also realize that I'm not alone in allowing a pleasurable moment get the best of me, as it's not the first time I've allowed it to do so, and I get the feeling that it's a common experience amongst many others.

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Mostly because I think there's a lot of misconceptions about the transmission of diseases and/or infections. I've heard a myriad of people say they wear condoms for safety during vaginal/anal penetration but bypass this process during oral sex or use condoms for penis, but fail to bust out the dental dams or saran when eating the p-ssy.

This leaves room for me to assume that they may be ignorant to the fact that failing to protect yourself during any sexual penetration, may that be tongue or genitalia, leaves you vulnerable to the unknown.

And although I realize there's not nothing that I couldn't handle, should I find out that luck didn't favor me, I'd rather not. We live in a society where it's difficult enough to disclose what type of kinky stuff we're into, much less trying to disclose to any new partner that I have an untreatable venereal disease. It doesn't mean life is over, but let's not dispute the fact that it does make things far more complicated in an already tricky romantic climate to weather.

That said, if you're like me, and safety has ever become an afterthought in the midst of any tryst that's not with a trusted partner, slow. down. Hear me when I say: the d-ck ain't going nowhere.

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