What Happened at the Swingers Club Before They Arrived

To give you a bit of context: I’m a forty-five-year-old man from Valencia, reasonably well preserved for my age. Brown-haired, five foot seven, about seventy kilos or so, and my hair is longer than is usually fashionable. I’m not a gym guy, I smoke, I like beer, and, in general, I’ve got all the vices one is supposedly not meant to have. Even so, I can’t complain about how the mirror looks back at me in the mornings.

Some years ago I discovered one of those free chat apps, with themed rooms, where people come in to talk about anything at any hour. I spent long stretches there, hooked on conversations that went from the absurd to the most intimate without warning. In one of those rooms I became good friends with Vera, diminutive of Verónica, a thirty-two-year-old woman from Seville, with a tongue as sharp as it was hot.

We spent hours messaging each other. Then came the photos, and then the camera, with results neither of us expected the first time we dared. She wasn’t a magazine model, but she had very well-proportioned curves and, above all, a forceful personality. Back then I worked for another company and traveled to Seville once a month, for several days, for meetings and that kind of paperwork that never ends.

That morning I was on the train talking to her on the phone. I told her I had a meeting early in the afternoon, but that by about seven I’d be free. And she, with that sense of humor of hers that disarmed anyone, told me she’d arranged to meet a couple at a swingers club, but that she had time until ten, and if I felt like joining her for a drink first.

I didn’t think twice. I’d never set foot in a place like that, curiosity was eating at me, and I’ve always believed it’s better to be left with guilt than with wanting.

***

We met at a bar a couple of streets from the place. She arrived with a backpack over one shoulder, wearing a blazer and trousers, an image so formal it contrasted with my jeans, my hiking boots and the denim jacket I was wearing that day. We looked like two people who had no business being together, and maybe that’s why it made me laugh so much.

—Are you coming from work or a funeral? —I said, pointing at her suit.

—From one of your meetings, smartass —she replied, laughing—. Though I made better use of mine.

After a couple of beers, and a lot of laughter, we headed to the club. From what she explained, there were two clearly separate areas. A normal bar, where people drank and chatted like anywhere else, and at the back a door leading to some changing rooms and several bedrooms, if things got that far.

While we drank another beer, I asked her what she had in the backpack.

—Well, let me show you —she said, opening it on the table—. Basic survival kit: spare underwear, condoms, lubricant, my suction toy, towel and shower gel.

—Fuck, Vera, you’re coming prepared for an expedition. The suction thing, I don’t get that one, though.

—In case I’m still in the mood for more. I never leave home without it —she answered, dying of laughter.

—You’re something else —I told her, unable to stop laughing myself either.

—Come on, let’s get changed and have the last one in a private room.

—All right, but when your friends get here I’m out of here, because I’ve got to be up really early tomorrow.

***

So off we went. First we stopped by the changing room, where they gave you a small towel, some flip-flops and not much else. I went in with my beer in hand, feeling half like a schoolboy in a forbidden place and half like a man who didn’t quite know what he was doing there.

The room the couple had booked was large. A double bed in the center, a couple of chairs and a kind of low table about five feet long and a little over two feet wide. A space designed for one thing only, with no pretence: to give free rein to whatever you felt like doing.

We kept laughing and talking, but the conversation started to turn increasingly explicit almost without our noticing. We began touching each other over our underwear, each doing our own thing, just like so many times we had in front of a screen. Only that night there were no cameras, no distance, no excuses.

She took off her bra and revealed a generous chest, heavy with its own weight but still firm. I had already stripped down to nothing, my hand in my groin, starting to stroke myself while I watched her. When she finished undressing, perfectly shaved, she picked up the suction toy and switched it on. That low, constant hum is unmistakable.

—Mate… it’s so much more fun without a camera in the middle —she said with a sigh.

—Tell me about it. You can see everything without having to move a finger —I replied.

—I’m going to lie down on the bed, I’m more comfortable there.

—I’ll stay standing, I’ve got a better view.

I was lying. I didn’t stay where I was: I stood up so I could see her better. That naked woman, with her legs open, moving against the device that worked tirelessly and drew deeper and deeper moans from her, was something I wasn’t willing to miss from afar.

—Huff, if your view is good, mine is even better —she murmured without fully opening her eyes.

—I can see you’ve made yourself comfortable, yes.

The scene was this. Me standing, half a meter from the bed, slowly masturbating. She had positioned herself with her head at the edge of the mattress and her legs open, using the suction toy and her fingers at the same time. The more I watched her, the harder it became to keep up the slow pace I’d set for myself.

—Ugh… I want cock so badly, fuck… —she let out between gasps.

—And what do you want me to do about it? If you’ve got a date in a bit, you’ll have more than enough. This is just the warm-up —I said, laughing.

—I’m already hot… —and she fell silent for a moment—. You can’t be there, standing up, touching yourself in front of me, and not let me taste it.

I didn’t even let her finish the sentence. I took a step and my cock was already in her mouth, halfway in, before she could change her mind about asking for it.

—Hold it there —I told her, putting the suction toy into her hand—, that way you don’t have to worry about holding it.

And, joking around, I turned the device up a couple of notches while pushing my cock a little deeper inside her. She answered with a gag and a growl that sounded like anything but a complaint.

I was fucking her mouth slowly while the suction toy kept working between her legs. Lying there, sprawled open, mouth open and my cock going in and out unhurriedly, she was an image hard to forget. Just then her phone rang. I brought it to her and she answered, leaving me to hold the device for her so she wouldn’t lose the rhythm. It was them: they were bringing the meeting forward by half an hour and waiting for her in the bar.

—Don’t worry, I’m… —and her voice cracked for a second— I’m right here, I’m coming down now.

She hung up, tossed the phone onto the bed and looked at me in a way that promised complications.

—You’re an asshole —she said, smiling.

—Shut up and lie down properly, come on —I replied, amused.

—Fuck my mouth for real. No mercy, no holding back.

My eyes went wide, but if that’s how she wanted it, who was I to argue. Suction toy at full power and cock inside. For a moment I forgot it was her mouth and not something else, and I started going all the way in, to the hilt, as if there were no after. I pulled out for a second so she could catch her breath. Tears were running down her face and her mascara had smeared, but she gripped my legs with both hands, not to push me away, but to pull me toward her.

—Tired already? —she asked hoarsely—. Keep going… and come on my tits.

—On your tits? No way. If your mouth is what it is tonight, that’s where I’m coming —I told her.

—On my mou… —and she couldn’t finish, again.

Between the device and my fingers, the bed was soaked with everything coming out of her, but she neither moved away nor gave me the slightest sign to stop. She lifted her hips, her thighs tensed, and that was too much for me.

I came in her mouth and she kept me inside, not letting me out. I emptied myself down her throat while all I could hear were her gagging sounds, which didn’t make her pull back either. When I finally calmed down, she pulled my cock out, sucking it clean, and let herself fall back onto the mattress with a smile of utter satisfaction.

—Fuck, what a load… —I said, catching my breath—. If I’d known, I’d have come earlier.

—My legs are shaking… that felt so good —she answered, stretching out fully—. We have to do this again another day.

—Deal. But next time I’m bringing an extra toy for you.

—What the hell are you thinking, you bastard? —she laughed, still weak.

—I’m going to get dressed, your friends are almost here and I don’t want to be in the way.

—You’re not in the way, but it would be a little weird for you to still be here, to be honest. Call me later and tell me how it went, okay?

—You can count on it. And I want details about yours, eh.

***

I left there spent, happy, and with the look of someone who hadn’t broken a plate in his life, on my way to the hotel. It was time for a long shower and to sleep the few hours I had left before the morning meeting. All the way there I couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot.

And that’s all, dear readers. I hope you enjoyed this confession as much as I enjoyed living it. As always, thank you for your time, and for whatever I may be needed for, I’m still here.

Best wishes to the gentlemen and a hug for the ladies. Until next time.