What Would You Have Said If You Were Me?

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This is the completely true story of our first ever visit to a swingers club and how it led to my wife’s first interracial experience. I’ve stayed true to the events and emotions, so that the reader can immerse themselves and feel what it REALLY feels like to experience the wild world of swinging. All the characters are real, so join me into the dark erotic world of swinging.  Let me introduce myself, my name’s Rick. It was a whirlwind courtship. I was chatting her mate up in the bar, she stood there looking quite plain, not saying a word. Her friend had a lot to say for herself, and I being me, was egging her on. Then she blurted it out, “My mate has fancied you for six months.” I looked at her friend as she blushed. “Who? Her?” I said dismissively. The quiet girl fixed my dismissive look with her blue eyes and said, “It’s not HER! It’s Chrissie, Okay!” “Oh you can speak then,” I laughed back. “My name’s Rick and yours is…? “It’s Christine but you can call me Chrissie, not that you care,” she snapped back. I hadn’t really noticed her to be honest. ‘Nothing special,’ I thought to myself, ‘although there is something intriguing about you so let’s go with it and see where it leads.’ Well, that night I went home to Chrissie’s place. Six months later we were married. Before that eventful night I had just come out of a stormy, but very passionate, relationship with a girl sixteen years younger than I. It was a brief but eventful relationship, almost totally based on wild sex. Problem was, out of the bedroom it was a constant round of arguments because of her almost obsessive jealousy. In the end I just couldn’t take any more, so I ended it. Problem was, she was the most sexually aware and active woman I had met. When I met her I thought I knew women and how their minds worked – well she taught me different. There wasn’t much we didn’t do together. The sex was mind blowing. We often used to fantasise about swinging but neither of us wanted to share. Now here I was, a year later, yearning for the sex I used to have all the time. Don’t get me wrong it was good sex with Chrissie, but slightly repetitive. I just couldn’t forget the wild nights (and days) I used to share with my wild, mad ex. ~ ~ ~ ~ One night after a lot to drink, we were in bed and while we were having sex I started to whisper in Chrissie’s ear about swinging and suggesting what it would be like. I could tell she was turned on, but then I know most people fantasise about it at some time and it has the same effect. The following day I decided to raise it with her and said I knew a club we could go to. (I knew of it from years ago when it opened, but never went.) She thought I was joking, and if I’m honest, at the time I think I was, but something just took over and I said, “No really, let’s do it.” To my surprise, she said “ok”. Well, by eight that night we were driving to the club that I’d heard of ten years ago (and didn’t even know if it was still there). Before we had set off, Chrissie had put a small travel case in the trunk which she had packed herself. “What’s in the case you put in the trunk, Chrissie?” “Well, if this club we are driving to actually does exist, I’m assuming that I’ll need something nice to wear when we are there.” “Something sexy I hope?” “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” As she spoke I glanced across quickly and noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed and she seemed slightly nervous. As we pulled up outside I could see it was still open and looked really busy with people going in. Chrissie said, “So you weren’t joking then,” to which I replied, “I suppose I wasn’t.” As we got out of the car and made our way to the club entrance I noticed how her earlier nervousness seemed to have been replaced by an air of anticipation, maybe even a slight eagerness. I was the one with the nerves, but having come this far I wasn’t going to back away now. So in we went. We paid our membership and entrance fee and waited in the reception area. Chrissie and I stood waiting, wondering what the night would hold for us both. A door swung open and in walked a woman in her mid-20s, long blonde hair, big baby blue eyes, and a figure to die for tightly packed into a black leather cat suit that barely held in her huge breasts. She must have stood six-feet in her killer heels. “Hi. I’m Zoey. I’m the manageress,” she said with a soft but very firm tone. I noticed how bright her red gloss lipstick was and how it contrasted against her pale white complexion. “As it’s your first time I’ll show you through the club up to the changing rooms. Don’t be nervous, we are all friends in here.” She smiled a smile that would give any man a hard on from fifty yards away. ’Fuck!’ I thought, ‘if all the women are like that in here, I’m in for a great night.’ “Please follow me,” she said as she held the door open and beckoned us in. We followed Zoey as she walked into the club. Straight away the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. We had entered the club in a bar and dance floor area, the music wasn’t too loud to drown gaziantep rus escort out the sound of people talking and laughing together. The lighting was soft and low and the smell of heavy perfume and cologne filled the air. Once my eyes got used to the dim lighting, I could see the place was packed with men and women, both couples and singles of all shapes and sizes, all ages, in different states of dress, semi undress, or wearing sexy outfits. All the old excitement came rushing back from before. ‘So it wasn’t just my ex then after all, there are loads of people like her,’ I thought excitedly. To say it was a buzz is the understatement of my life. After walking through the dance floor area, Zoey led us up a short flight of stairs and into the changing rooms. She turned to Chrissie. “Here is your locker key. You are number 99, you can change in here. If there’s anything more you need or want, I’ll be working behind the bar tonight.” With that she turned and left us to get changed. Chrissie opened the travel case and handed me a pair of white sports shorts she had packed for me. “There you go,” she said. “I like you in these, nice and tight and show off your arse nicely.” “Thanks, so what have you got to wear then?” I said sarcastically, thinking I was about to see something not very exciting. With that she pulled a Red PVC nurses tunic with a zip up front from the bag. She also had matching red high heels with white fishnet stockings. The whole outfit was topped off with a nurse’s hat and a small red satin G-string. “Will this do, then” she laughed as she started to put it on. I noticed how confident she seemed to have suddenly become. Two other couples came in to the changing rooms while we were getting dressed. One of the women looked over to Chrissie and said, “Love the outfit, you look really hot in that.” Her husband (well I assume it was her husband?) nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ve always loved PVC and you can give me a bed bath anytime you like Nurse,” he said loudly. A strange feeling swept over me. It was the first time I had heard another guy making such blatantly sexual comments to my wife, and I felt strangely turned on but slightly jealous at the same time. Maybe it was his comments that did it, but I looked at Chrissie properly for the first time in ages and thought, ’yes, they are right; you DO look hot in that outfit.’ Now we were both dressed, we decided the best thing to do was to go to the bar area where Zoey told us she would be working. That way at least we knew there would be someone there we knew, and we could have a calming drink and “find our feet” before exploring the club properly. We walked around the dance floor to get to the crowded bar area. As we walked past I noticed a group of people standing around something happening on the dance floor. I said to Chrissie, “What’s that, shall we take a look?” She didn’t need me to ask and was already standing on tiptoes trying to see over the people. Chrissie is quite tall and with her stretching like that, her long legs seemed to have grown and her PVC tunic rode up, showing her round arse cheeks split by the red satin G-string. As she stretched up she put her hand on a guy’s shoulder to steady her, and immediately his hand moved slowly down her back and started stroking her arse slowly but firmly through the PVC. Out of instinct I moved quickly behind her and placed my hands on her hips. The man seemed surprised and moved his hand away. It was quite dimly lit but as I looked down to where his hand had been I could see that his other hand was rubbing his cock through his shorts. Chrissie had seemed unconcerned by the strange hand on her backside. I wondered whether she knew he was jerking himself off, or maybe even encouraging him. Maybe she thought it was me, I told myself; after all it was quite dark. Either way, it seemed she didn’t care as she was more interested in what she was looking at over the heads in front! “What can you see then, Chrissie?” I asked excitedly. She glanced back, her cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “SSHH, Just look at that,” she said, nodding at what was happening in front of her She seemed annoyed I had interrupted whatever it was she was watching. I wondered what she was thinking. By the look I had just seen on her face it wasn’t me on her mind – she seemed a different woman. She wasn’t the shy, quiet girl I met that first night, but a sexually charged woman who was scanning the club and taking it all in. I leant over her shoulder and caught sight of why she was so transfixed. In the middle of the dance floor was a gleaming, stainless steel dance pole, the type you see in Lap dancing clubs. Against the pole was Zoey, yes Zoey, who was supposed to be working behind the bar. Her hands were tied above her head to the pole and she stood with her legs wide apart, there was a woman kneeling down at each of her feet, and each of them had one of her ankles firmly in their grip making sure her legs were kept held wide apart. She was unable to move. Her black leather cat suit was unzipped to the waist so her large soft breasts had spilled out from the outfit that they had probably fought all night to escape from. Her long blonde hair was masking her face, but there was no masking her cries of pleasure as a large black guy knelt between her legs and slowly unzipped the rest of her cat suit to expose her smooth shaven but very wet pussy. The black guy expertly parted her slit with his long black fingers and firmly pushed his face into her body. We watched as his tongue penetrated deep into her cunt. Zoey let out a loud moaning noise from deep inside her throat. “Oh God, that’s so Fucking good…” she groaned, her head thrashing from side to side. His tongue was working so hard and hungrily you could hear the sound of her pussy lips opening and closing together. “More, More, make me cum you bastard!” Zoey cried. “Please stop now, it’s your cock I need inside me now.” We watched in awe as her amazing breasts swung wildly from side to side as if in time with her cries, her body writhed back and forth against the pole, everyone seemed transfixed by the sight of this beautiful woman in sexual frenzy before their very eyes. But the black guy had other ideas as he pushed the head of one of the women who held Zoey’s ankles down to his cock and said, “Suck this, bitch. She can wait to be fucked!” Then he carried on eating from Zoey’s now hot, extremely soaking pussy while the woman did as she was commanded. With all this going on, I hadn’t noticed that the guy from earlier had now sidled back beside Chrissie and me and had his hand back on her arse. Only this time it was under the PVC tunic and stroking her bare cheeks around the G-string. I looked at him; he just smiled and carried on. I looked at her, and this time I was in no doubt she knew who it was as her hand had crept down to the front of his shorts and was resting on the bulge there. Although her hand wasn’t moving she knew what she was doing, she was testing me – how would I react? I was sort of shocked and a bit confused, but at the same time turned on by what was happening right in front of my eyes. There was my attractive wife, looking a million dollars, dressed to kill, groping a strange man, not even a good looking guy at that – about mid-fifties, short, hairy back, middle-age spread, and though I’m no expert, not a big cock judging from the bulge in his shorts – right in front of me, with him leering at me like a cheap extra from a low budget porn film. Her hand started to move and stroke the bulge under her fingers, then she at last turned and glanced at me. I think maybe for approval, or maybe defiance, to this day I still don’t know. Either way I had seen enough for now. “Come on, we were going to the bar to get a drink.” I grabbed her arm firmly but not aggressively and led her away. “Let’s go get that drink. I think I need it.” She looked a bit disappointed but said, “Ok Honey, but can we explore soon? I’m feeling much more at home now.” ‘I bet you are, you dirty bitch,’ I thought as we headed for the bar. At last, after pushing our way through a crowd of sexily dressed, half naked, very sexually turned on people, we finally made it to the bar and got ourselves that drink. We moved away from the bar to a quiet corner where there were not many people and it was not quite, but almost, dark. I thought we needed to get our heads together for a while after the dance floor situation. I suddenly realised we hadn’t spoken more than half a dozen words to each other since we left the changing rooms. But to be honest, I don’t think talking was what either of us had on our minds right then. So we stood in relative silence taking in what was going on around us and thinking about what had gone on earlier. With neither of us knowing “swinging club etiquette,” we decided we would finish our drinks then go and explore the club. After about ten minutes, I was about to say to Chrissie, okay let’s take a walk, when I heard a voice from behind me. “Rick, is that you?” I could have died, this club was fifty miles from our home, and surely nobody knows me here! I turned around and I couldn’t believe it. It was Clive, a friend from London I had met many years ago when I lived there. I had fractured my ankle while working on a building site. He was a West Indian Physiotherapist at my local hospital, and became my physio for ten weeks after. We had got on so well we actually had been out for a drink a few times after my treatment. He was a great guy, but I lost touch when I left London to work abroad for a couple of years. I know it sounds funny, but there was no embarrassment on either side. We just started talking about old times, forgetting where we were and that he was only wearing a towel to cover up what looked like a very large cock. “Are you going to introduce me then?” Clive asked with a smile. I sort of blurted out, “Oh, it’s my wife.” He replied, “Well I guessed that, and does the wife have a name?” and before I could say a word she held out her hand and said, “I’m Chrissie.” Clive took it and leant forward and kissed her on the cheek before saying, “Very nice.” She didn’t even blush as she said “You aren’t so bad yourself.” Now I should point out that coming from North London, I had a lot of very good West Indian friends growing up in the 70s, but Chrissie had grown up in a small, provincial Northern town and I know for a fact she had never met or spoken to a West Indian guy before, let alone a confident half-naked one from London. Clive asked if we had been before and we both shook our heads. “How about you?” I asked. ”I come here once a month on the Caribbean party night. They hold it on the last Friday of every month; it’s mainly for white couples and women who like the occasional Black Guy experience and of course black guys who want some white pussy.” “Oh, as it’s our first time we didn’t realise, but that’s cool by me. Not sure about Chrissie though,” I told him as I suddenly realised what it was that had Chrissie so transfixed. Of course I hadn’t noticed it, with being from London, but at least thirty per cent of the guys in the club were black. Clive said, “So you don’t really know how it works here then.” ”Not really, mate.” “Well are you here to play or watch?” Immediately Chrissie jumped in, “Oh, we are here to play all right.” Clive turned to me. “Do you fancy coming to a private room for a bit?” I could feel the goose bumps all over me. I was nervous, excited, scared, but more noticeably I had a hard on that I couldn’t hide. Clive looked to Chrissie. ”Well, what do you think?” She told him, “I think we should follow you.” Clive winked at me and nodded. His hand brushed Chrissie’s arse as he directed us to follow him. She gave a sort of sigh as he took her hand to lead her through the crowd. We went upstairs and through some sort of dark corridor till we reached a large room. We all went in, and as Clive locked the door behind us you could feel the electricity in the air. The room was warm, dimly lit, and had soft leather, double bed like benches on all sides of the room. There were mirrors on all the walls, from bench to ceiling, and large throw cushions. It was something like a tart’s boudoir and certainly felt as hot in there. I walked to the far side of the room and sat down. Chrissie watched me and waited till I sat then moved to the side of the room opposite me. I felt for the first time since we met tonight that Clive was deliberately trying to put some personal space between myself and him. This was confirmed when, without any hesitation Clive went and sat next to Chrissie. He was a well-built guy, kept in trim, very muscular, and with a nice manner. I could see his cock start to rise and fall rhythmically under his towel as if it had just woken from a light sleep, the unmistakeable start of an erection. You could have cut the sexual tension with a knife. Clive’s voice was smooth, low and calm as he said to Chrissie, ”Well, if Rick hasn’t told you, I work at a hospital, so it’s good that you are wearing a nurse’s outfit for me. Maybe I should help you loosen it off a bit so I can examine you better.” Chrissies cheeks flushed bright red at hearing Clive’s provocative words, she seemed unable to get any words out in reply. At this point I was transfixed, speechless but incredibly turned on as I watched Clive slowly put one arm around Chrissie’ shoulder and the other brush over her breast to reach the zip on the front of her red PVC nurses outfit. He pulled the zip down gently and put his hand inside to massage her breast. He gave me a slight glance as he did and I just smiled. Clive smiled for a second, knowing then that he had the green light from me and could now go ahead as he wanted, and more to the point, as Chrissie wanted, too. Her hand had slowly reached across his knee and was on his now fully erect cock – it was straining under the towel he was still wearing. Clive now had unzipped her down to the waist and had one breast fully out, playing with her hard nipple. Chrissie started to stroke him eagerly through the towel her hands moving more and more confidently. Her breathing was getting heavier and face was flushed. She was murmuring something under her breath. I couldn’t hear it properly, but could pick out the odd word. Like cock… black…. Fucking… Gorgeous… “Have you seen a black cock before?” Clive slowly whispered in her ear. “No, I’ve never even met a black guy properly till now.” “Is it something that turns you on, Chrissie?” Clive asked as he continued to caress her exposed breast.. “I’ve always thought about it,” she sighed as her hand now caressed his chest. I was just transfixed by the scene now playing out before me. “Well why don’t you take off my towel for me?” She immediately pulled at it eagerly as he stood up to help her. It came away from his body and he stood in front of her, his back to me with his rock hard cock pointing towards her. Clive turned his head to over where I was sitting and said, “Come over here my friend, I want you to be close and see what happens now.” With my heart pumping and my cock starting to throb, I walked over and stood next to Clive and looked down.

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