Never Fucking Satisfied (Or Vice Versa): A Kinkster at a Swinger Party

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In the following true story, the names have been changed but the dicks are real.

“What exactly is a ‘fun’ swinger party to you? Sucked off 9 times and fucked by 14 people??” a friend texted me. I had just described my evening at a hotel swinger party, an experience which would be a fulfilling sexual adventure by many people’s standards.

“I think I’m just not a swinger.” I was kvetching because it wasn’t my kind of sexual adventure. I’m the kind of kinkster who would prefer one well-behaved submissive over an endless supply of partners.

“Maybe you just need those egalitarian swinger parties?” she suggested. But I had been to those too; I went to oodles during my “try anything twice” phase.

Despite being surrounded by gorgeous attendees, I fell asleep at the invite-only sex house. I left immediately after the burlesque act at the beautiful voodoo love spell themed sex party. I liked the burner disco spectacle, but was bored by the sex rave. I even fled the yacht orgy just after orgy time started. There were parties with fire pits and Van Gogh-styled body paint and parties in the basements of synagogues and similarly bizarre locations, but the absolute worst sex party I went to was in a hotel on July 4, where the fireworks, at least as far as my junk was concerned, were rained out.

At the time, I was living in a converted studio apartment in the East Village. My daughters slept on two matching futon chairs next to the dishwasher. My dad was visiting for the holiday, and was happy to hang out with my girls so I could sneak out for a late-night date. I wasn’t seeing anyone seriously at the time, but I’d get the occasional booty call from an ultra-adventurous and very non-monogamous young woman. A few hours before we met that night, she sent me an invitation to what turned out to be the inaccurately named Subspace Swingers party, which was in a midtown hotel and featured free chips, condoms, and soda pop all night. “Omg I’m gonna dress up so hot!! You’re gonna die,” she texted as we decided on outfits for the date.

The invitation had the name of the three-star hotel spelled wrong, but we managed to find it. As we entered the elevator, my date reminded me that our secret swinger names would be Lola and Nico, which I couldn’t say without snickering. Two young men, dressed casually but in sharp button-downs, were also heading to our floor, which caused me to consider the swinger party calculus. If young single men were welcome at the party for a few more dollars than a couple, we could expect a supermajority of penis.

We were received at the door to a spacious suite by a cheerful woman wearing nothing but black panties. I was not wrong about the dude ratio; there were a handful of couples of all ages, including one particularly attractive young couple, but at least a dozen more single young men in jeans. Unlike the BDSM parties I love, there were no kinksters wielding rope or whips, but there were a few creative deviants in other ways. The centerpiece of the action in the living room was an overweight, aging, gold-plated guido, who aggressively invited women to tongue his furry asshole at every opportunity. Lying in a chair as if preparing to get a gynecological exam, he boisterously shouted at several women, trying to convince them to participate in a scene where he attempted to masturbate into his waifish wife’s mouth as she kneeled in front of him. A few women, including Lola, passed by and “helped out” by holding the wife’s mouth open for him for a few seconds at a time. Carnival barker-style, the hairy man tempted nearby women to toss his salad, but there were no takers. Guido’s dick was flaccid and the spectacle fizzled. The bedroom activity that I observed consisted of a lone woman fucking a rotation of men, which was not at all what I was hoping for.

Lola was determined to have an adventure there, so I did my best to pretend that I was enjoying myself, but my body language revealed that this wasn’t my idea of a debaucherous good time. She winked at my pained countenance and quickly picked up the attractive young couple who I had noticed before, Ruby and Tom. They enthusiastically agreed to “swing” with us. It didn’t take much chit-chat or flirting before the four of us were pawing each other in an empty bedroom with a king-sized bed. Ruby and I kissed and groped briefly before undressing. Tom was already on top of Lola on the bed, and Ruby was on her knees in front of me. In spite of my poor luck with sex parties in the past, I considered that maybe swinging could be fun for me after all. Then I noticed all of the dicks.

Of course I wasn’t surprised by the dick in my date, as that was the point of a swinger party. However, I was surprised by the semicircle of dicks being stroked around the room. There were dicks lining the wall. There were dicks behind me. There were a couple of dicks climbing up on the bed directly in front of me. There were dicks surrounding Ruby like wheel spokes. My spirits deflated along with the rest of me, so I apologized to Ruby and backed away—into a dick. Within about 10 seconds, a fresh hard dick was in her as well, but my dick was very clear that this was not its jam.

Did I mention I was on Viagra?

Lola had a blast. After a brief semantic discussion of the critical mass required to constitute a gangbang, we continued to mingle. We met Flip and Trixie, a handsome and well-dressed 60-something couple sharing a hookah-style vaporizer. They were TV casting executives visiting from out of town and were staying at a company apartment within walking distance. Trixie looked bored and as enthusiastic about the party as I was. Flip grinned and puffed away, flirting with Lola and enticing us to join them for some private fun. I loved the idea of leaving the party, so we accompanied them back to their place and fruitlessly banged on their shag carpet. Trixie and I attempted a few tame sexual acts but soon gave up from exhaustion and sunk into their couch. We chatted and rolled our eyes as we watched Flip and Lola fuck their way around the room, with Flip, ever the gracious host, occasionally pointing out the fantastic view we had. On account of exhaustion or orgasm, Flip finally dismounted Lola and courteously offered me a blowjob, which I politely declined. They were a lovely couple, and though I’m clearly not much of a swinger, I would highly recommend boning them to anyone who is.

Lola and I left and got a few hours of sleep at an apartment where I was cat-sitting. Somehow we had the energy for a perfectly normal twosome before breakfast. As I was walking home, I texted a friend about what an awkward night it had been, and how I probably wouldn’t ever go to a sex party again. She wrote, “Let me get this straight. You fucked two women and were blown by three, and you had a lousy time?”

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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