Swinging Twins

After drinks were offered and accepted, Stuart got straight to business. "We were lucky, and managed to retire quite young. We started this club because it gave us a way to augment our retirement while doing something we've done all our married lives." Brief, to the point, business like. "I'll give you the grand tour, but first some questions."

I'd been on job interviews that were less nerve wracking. Stuart and Mary did their best to put me at ease, but the butterflies in my stomach wouldn't stop. The first questions were about Deb, and how willing she was. Then it was about our personal and business backgrounds, and finally, our sex habits. I was uncomfortable with those questions, but answered as honestly as I could.

"Neil, with Deborah being new at this, I'm going to suggest that your first experience should be one of our games nights." Stu went on, "we have a few fun events that we use to get things going, and which are almost always guaranteed to ease the tension, and to make new members comfortable. Ice breakers for newbies, if you will."

"Games?" I asked.

"Don't worry," answered Mary. "They won't frighten her off. Think of it as a dance evening with a few games between dances. Just a few stripping games, maybe a kind of truth or dare thing, then one of our ladies sometimes does a sex toy demo—and then we always have a couple put on a live show".

"A live sex show," added Stuart. "Then after that, the dancing continues - but people can wander off into the party rooms and start having a good time."

"Sounds interesting!"

"Mary and I are nudists. That has nothing to do with our lifestyle or our parties, but we encourage our guests to be nude at all times. So if being undressed in company is a problem, you might like to think twice."

"Debbie and I are nudists too," I told them. "I think we're what they call 'home nudists'. We're always undressed at home, but we don't flaunt it. None of our friends know about it. We've enjoyed various nude beaches. We've tried a few clubs but they didn't appeal to us."

"Excellent! You'll fit right in then, because there'll be a lot of nudity here. We don't want anyone feeling out of place. Come along," he stood. "I'll show you around, and you'll get an idea about how it all works."

The club's premises were in the basement, which must have spread across four thousand square feet. The main section was a large room with a bar at one end, a stage at the other, and comfortable chairs, and love seats along the walls. "Rest rooms back here," Stu pointed at a ladies and men signs. "Free drinks, and caterers provide snacks. Sex show on the platform up there, and dancing in the main section, with a DJ playing music from that booth. I keep a free supply of Viagra on the bar counter. I've been told it's irresponsible, and probably illegal, but I expect our members to behave responsibly and to use them with due caution." I nodded.

"There are lockers for your clothes and valuables near the restrooms. But I think we wasted our money there because no one ever uses them. People just stack their clothes up next to the chairs and the love seats. Our members are a very select group of people." He swept his arm in an arc across the big room. "We keep the place fairly dark, and you'll be amazed at what people get up to when the lights go down. Come this way."

A wide hallway led off the main hall, with five large rooms on either side. "These are what we call the 'party rooms'. Three private rooms. See the lights?" He pointed to two small bulbs above the doors. "No light means it's unoccupied. Green light means it's occupied, but you can join in. Red light means keep out, we want privacy. The switches are on the wall, just inside the door. Each room has three king size beds and we buy brand new linen for every party." I was impressed, and was beginning to understand the incredibly high entrance fees.

"And two observation rooms," he went on. The hallway was wider here, and the walls were glass from floor to ceiling. "This one is for anyone to use, any time, on the understanding that there will always be an audience." There were again, three king size beds as well as a complicated looking sex swing. "And this one," he pointed to a much smaller room across the hall, also behind a huge glass wall, "is for lap dances. We usually have a male and a female stripper, and they'll do a lap dance for anyone who asks. There's a five minute timer so everyone can have a turn."

"I love the party rooms, but these are my favorites," said Mary, pointing to the two picture windows. "I love it, whether I'm on the inside or the outside." It took me by surprise that she was so matter-of-fact about it, so open about what she would obviously be doing in the observation rooms. I couldn't help wondering what she would look like naked, mounted on some guy, performing for everyone in the hallway.

As if he read my mind, Stu pointed out "You understand that none of the members are twenty year old kids, right? So don't expect a house full of nubile nymphs with swimsuit edition bodies." I've always thought of my wife as a beautiful woman, but I was realistic enough to recognize my bias. To anyone else she was probably pretty, attractive even, but not necessarily a head turner. Like most women her age she could afford to lose fifteen pounds or so, but at 5'5" and 140 pounds with a decent waist to boob ratio she was still a desirable woman. But more than anything, she was sexy. It was an undefinable quality that I was never able to fully describe, but when she dressed to impress, her looks and her mannerisms clearly reflected her upper class background, yet she just dripped sex. Again, maybe it was just me.

"Our members are mature, both mentally and physically," continued Stuart. "On the one hand that means that we take our fun seriously and we've grown out of childish insecurities. But that also means we have mature bodies. We're all grown-ups, with everything that's good and bad about that." We re-entered the main room. "Of course no one has to use the party rooms. There's always a lot of activity right here".

"Oh, and don't forget the pool," said Mary. "We have parties at the poolside two or three times a year. The neighbors can't see us, so ... anything can happen out there."

"And usually does," chuckled Stu.

I completed the application form, and although I felt guilty about not discussing it with Deb in advance, I made out a check for the five large. The club held meetings every two to three weeks, and the next games night was almost a month away.

Stuart instructed me to create a new email account that was completely separate from any other inboxes. A week after my visit I received an email confirming that we'd been accepted as members, welcoming us to the club, and providing a user ID and password to the members-only section of the Dream Catchers web site. It was a professionally constructed site and listed the club's rules, the calendar of events, a pictorial tour of the premises, and a members' discussion forum. The next games night was on a Saturday, three weeks from now.

All I had to do now was convince Deb. At first she'd made it clear that she wasn't interested, then I'd seen cracks in her resolve but—how much was fantasy? Would she do it? I'd taken a $5,000 gamble and was kicking myself with buyers' remorse. Why the fuck hadn't I tried to persuade my wife first, and then written the check? If Debbie refused to go, I had pissed away an important part of our savings for nothing. As I turned into the driveway I knew I had to bring it up tonight. Talk her through it, let her know that it was a sophisticated environment with members who would respect a newbie's reluctance to participate, sell her on the new and exciting experiences...

There was a post-it note on the mirror in the hallway. "Book club tonight. Will be late. Don't wait up. Love you!" Damn, the conversation would have to wait. The tension was killing me.

I took the opportunity to research swinger clubs but found almost nothing about Dream Catchers, other than a few links to its web site. I tried to find serious discussion about other clubs, or about the benefits or drawbacks of the lifestyle. Almost everything I found was lightweight drivel or reviews posted by enthusiastic club owners and members. I gave up and got into bed, and was asleep in minutes. Less than an hour later I was awakened by Deb shaking my shoulder.

"Hey, sleepy head. You okay?"

"'Course. Whassup?" I was groggy.

"It's not yet eleven o'clock and you're already asleep. So if you're not sick-" She produced two glasses of wine. Red for me, white for her. I took the glass, and her free hand reached under the covers and went straight to my cock. This wasn't her first drink of the night. I smiled.

"So what happened at the book club to get you so worked up?"

"Oh, nothing. Just girl talk."

"Was Maureen there?"

"Did you know that she and Dave are having problems?" I said nothing. "Maureen is trying to get Dave to go to that club you told me about, but Dave won't hear about it." I said nothing. "She told Dave that they don't have to participate, and they could just watch and be watched. But Dave seems to have...issues. So she's given up on the idea." Deb sipped her chardonnay. "So the girls started talking about what it would be like—you know—to go to a place like that. Under the sheets she pumped unconsciously at my stiffening rod.

"So is the book club planning a field trip?"

Deb's laugh was infectious. She put her glass down and stripped in about twenty seconds, pulled back the covers, and climbed over me. My knob slid easily along the length of her protruding labia. The juices were dripping from her.

"It must have been a pretty raunchy conversation," I laughed, as she slowly lowered herself onto me.

"Aah—that's nice," she crooned as I slid all the way in and her body met mine. She started riding me and reached for her clit. Debbie has no pubic hair. It cost us a lot, but we'd both been in for a series of extensive laser treatments. Hers was a full body cleanup, mine was the typical man's "back, sack, and crack", with the extras of "shoulders and shaft". "The girls were all joking about it, but it was all just talk. Except for Maureen and me, none of the girls would ever actually do anything about it. And Dave won't go..."

I sank my butt into the mattress and thrust upward, burying myself into my wife's hot wet pussy. What the fuck did she just say? Except for Maureen and me? Jesus, Deb had already bought into it! My dick was suddenly as hard as steel, and it felt huge. This was actually going to happen! God, I loved this woman.

Debbie's eyes were closed, one hand was circling her clit and the other was pinching a nipple. I did all the work, thrusting upward. I could imagine the fantasies going through her mind, and it didn't take long for Deb to come. She threw her head back and rubbed furiously. Then she clamped the base of my cock and her guttural groan was raw sex at its most primal. Pure self-pleasure. I was just an observer. I continued my slow deep thrusts until she collapsed forward on me, drenched with sweat and panting. I gently rolled her over, my tool still buried in her, and came in less than a dozen strokes.

"Whew", she giggled after a few minutes. "My legs are like jello."

I steered the conversation back to the subject that had been at the forefront of my mind for more than two weeks. "So Maureen's interested in that club you were discussing?"

Deb rolled over on her side, facing me, her head propped on a hand. "You can stop hinting, Neil. I'll go to this place with you but I have some ground rules, okay? A." She held up a finger. "We do not get physical with other people. Maureen says a lot of people like to 'watch and be watched', and I'm okay with that. But that's it."

"Okay."

"Two." She held up a second finger. "If we see anyone we know, we do a U-turn and skedaddle before they see us."

"Works for me."

"C." A third finger. "I only want to go once. Okay? We go one time, and that's it. Just to see what it's like, and because I know you need to get it out of your system."

I didn't answer—just raised my eyebrows with an expression that I hoped said 'What, me?'

"Also." Four fingers in the air now. "If I feel uncomfortable about anything, I mean absolutely anything, I reserve the right to call it quits and we leave."

"Did I ever tell you that I love you?"

"Not in the last ten minutes." She smiled, and put her four fingers on my chest. "I need to know that you agree". She pressed harder.

I brought her four fingers to my lips and kissed them. They still tasted of her juices. "Sleep tight". She rolled over and spooned against me. My cock, still coated with her juices and my cum, slid into her butt crack. I reached over for a nipple and hoped she would have raunchy dreams. God, I loved the woman! The wine glasses stood untouched on my nightstand.

* * * * *

After work the next day I told her that we'd be attending a party at the club at the end of the month.

"God, Maureen will be jealous."

"I damn well hope you won't tell her!" How many secrets do twin sisters share?

"Oh no," she said quickly. "I mean—she'd be pissed if she knew."

THREE

Those three weeks were the slowest in my life. I'll swear that someone had fucked with the space-time continuum—every hour was longer than sixty minutes and every day felt like a week. But after that interminable wait, the appointed Saturday had Deb going through her closet wondering what to wear. What was the point? I hoped that she wouldn't be wearing anything for most of the night. Or would she? My most earnest wish was that she would love the experience and be open to going back several times. But my biggest fear was that she'd hate it and would want to leave early. She settled on a dress that flared at the knees and showed a small amount of cleavage but was open at the back with no sign of a bra. I wore khakis and a button down shirt with a blue blazer.

The mid-summer sun was setting as we pulled into 1749 and Deb gasped at the magnificent driveway and scale of the house. My little BMW 3-series looked lost among the Mercedes S-classes and Range Rovers. As we stepped inside Mary greeted us with an excited yelp and a hug. "You're Deborah. I'm so happy to meet you!" She pushed Debbie away, held her at arm's length. "You're lovely! We must have a glass of wine together and get to know each other."

Really? I thought this was a swingers club, you know, wife swapping and sex all over the place. Then I realized that Mary was being the ever gracious hostess and doing everything possible to put Deb at ease. "And Neil, here, let me take that jacket." She hung it on a coat rack behind her, along with half a dozen other blue blazers. At least my guess about the dress code had been right. "I think everyone else is here. Go, go," she pointed to the basement door. "Get a drink. Mingle!"

There must have been fifteen couples in the party room. I guided Deb to the bar. She took a chardonnay, I got a sprite with ice, which I hoped looked like a gin and tonic. Yes, I cheat a lot like that. Stuart came through the mingling crowd, and I introduced Deb, and he gave her an avuncular hug and shook my hand. Very formal. This could have been a corporate cocktail party.

Stuart stepped over to the DJ booth and announced that the dance floor was open, and music filled the room. Deb and I grabbed a love seat near the stage and watched for a while. Nothing out of the ordinary-just eight or nine couples dancing, and the rest socializing with drinks in their hands. About ten minutes later Stuart came over the speakers again, and said "Okay - everyone on the dance floor please. Everyone!" We danced a few numbers, then the music faded and our host came over the speakers again.

"Alright - it's time for the spoon dance!" A few cheers came from the dance floor. "For those who don't know how it works—I'm going to hand out three spoons to three ladies." He stepped onto the dance floor and handed them to random women. They were large serving spoons, gold in color, with blue and white ribbons attached. "When the music stops, the ladies who are holding spoons have to find a new partner to dance with. You'll cut in, and hand the spoon to the lady you displaced, and then those ladies need to find a new dance partner. Clear as mud?"

The idea was to get couples to mingle, rather than clinging to each other. We watched as the spoons went around. Couples were split up, new partnerships were formed, and the dancing went on. The music wasn't loud, and there was a lot of conversation on the floor. Every time the music stopped Deb looked away to avoid eye contact, hoping we wouldn't be separated. After about five dances the music died again and we saw Mary approaching - spoon in hand.

"Ah" she cried. "I've been looking for you two. My turn, Deborah! Here, take the spoon and see if you can find someone to dance with. The music fired up again, and Debbie looked bewildered until Stuart stepped up.

"I think I'm the only person without a partner. May I?" He held his hand out graciously. She gave me a questioning look. I winked and nodded. She took his hand hesitantly and they fell into a simple shuffle. I tried to concentrate on my dance with Mary, and when I looked again, their heads were bowed close as Stuart engaged Deb in conversation. It was obvious—this had been carefully orchestrated. The music died again. Stuart was dancing with someone else and I had no idea where Debbie was. After another three dances the music stopped and Stuart came over the speakers again. I headed for the love seat we'd nabbed earlier and met Deb there. She was smiling.

"Time to get this show in the road! There'll be just five more dance songs, and just one spoon. If you have the spoon at the end of a song, give it to another couple. And when I say couple—you don't have to be dancing with your partner. But if you get the spoon, you have to strip!" Debbie's fingers gripped my thigh. This was getting real. "Okay, everybody up!" Deb swallowed the rest of her chardonnay, and we joined the throng on the dance floor.

Fifteen couples. Five songs. In about twenty minutes, at least one in three people would be naked. That façade of a corporate cocktail party wasn't going to last. As we started dancing, I did a double-take. Mary was dancing alongside us, with someone I didn't know. They were both naked, and Mary held the spoon. Her age showed a few sags and wrinkles, but she still had a great body. Deb's eyes were on stalks. The music faded and my heart went into my mouth as Mary reached the spoon toward us. But she reached between Deb and me and handed it to the couple to my left. They stripped to loud applause, and the music continued.

Everyone around us was doing their own bad interpretations of dirty-dancing but enjoying themselves. Several of the dancers were nude. As I'd been warned, the women weren't twenty year old models and the guys were neither athletes nor body builders. And yet somehow it was okay. The average age was probably five or six years older than us and everyone seemed to be in better than average shape. It was comforting to know that these were real people.

Deb and I didn't get the spoon, but we were soon surrounded by naked bodies. It was a lot to take in—at once exciting and unsettling.

As the music faded, Stu announced that it was time for the blindfold game. The five naked couples knew what it was about and stepped onto the floor. Mary blindfolded the women, and Stuart, now also nude, stood the men in a line. He lifted the microphone. "There will be 2 blindfold games. For the next round of players, I need you all to get undressed now, so you'll be ready to play. He read four couples names, then "...and Neil and Deb."

"Fuck," whispered Deb. "Well here goes-" and she whipped her dress over her head. No bra, no panties! She kept her shoes on. The sight of my wife naked in this crowded room had my mind in turmoil. Excited, anxious, wondering what the hell I'd started. I took a bit longer to undress while the game started on the floor.