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The number one rule of a swinger’s club is consent, and nothing happens without it. Or at least, that’s what our local swingers’ club website said. When we stepped in for the first (and last) time, we had no idea what reality had in store for us.
We were 21 when we were ready to experiment, and after months of talking about going, we were finally in the parking lot of the local swinger’s club.
Except we immediately started doubting ourselves.
Businesses around the club looked like they had been out of business for some time, and people roamed or lay along the walls: drug addicts, homeless men and women, and low-class prostitutes. The place didn’t look too safe nor clean.
We looked at each other uncertainly. Could it be the same inside? Or would there be a different atmosphere? We had waited so long to finally go, and now that we were here, we weren’t even sure if it was worth it. Ignoring all the red flags, we decided there was only one way to find out — we walked in.
The lady that attended us was bored while we were nervous wrecks. We paid the entry fee (a whole $74) and walked in. Inside, the lights were very low, and it took us a second to adjust to the darkness.
The swingers club was huge. There was a bar, pool tables, pools, couches, beds, and endless sex rooms — all on the first floor. On the second floor, there was another bar, a lounge, showers, restrooms, and even more sex rooms.
Everywhere we looked, there were hand sanitizers and cleaning sprays along with paper towels. No doubt, this was why the hard beds smelled like harsh chemicals.
As we peeked inside each corner of the club, it became apparent we were the youngest people here. Besides us, the youngest couples appeared to be in their 30s, and there weren’t many. People stared as we walked past, mostly single men whose reason for still being single was glaringly obvious; they were fat, old and unkept with clothes that looked like they came out of a homeless camp. Gross.
We eventually found a room where people had gathered around to watch something. We made our way forward, trying to catch a peek of what all the action was. There was a group of men in a circle making it increasingly difficult to see past, and then we finally realized what was happening.
There was an old lady (around her 80s!) right in the middle of all the men, completely naked. We immediately knew what the men were doing with their right arms moving back and forth.
We left the room in a rush, but the image remained seared into our minds, even to this day.
We sat down in a dark corner of the club, trying to process things. To comfort my girlfriend, I rubbed her back, knowing she became grossed out much faster than I did — and I was ready to puke.
But out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man watching us. He was a short man, hunched and could be our father, and still, he lurked in the shadows, his eyes on us, slowly making his way closer to us as if not to draw attention to himself.
I realized he was thinking my girlfriend and I was about to have sex, and I quickly stopped touching her. What followed were the most awkward moments of my life — we sat there, not talking, looking forward, stiff as a statue, while the man’s hungry eyes continued to stare. Finally, I got up and quickly pulled my girlfriend out of the room, his eyes still following us.
Trying to shake off the creepy feeling, we kept exploring the club. We saw much more bodies interwound in the dark, a few attractive enough, but most were completely revolting. It was near the bar that we came across a small, chubby old lady that seemed to work there.
“Hold on,” she said, eyeing me. “I have to frisk you.”
“Oh, why?” I said as she started patting me down. “I haven’t taken—“ I realized she didn’t work there when she began grabbing and groping me. I tried to pull away, but for an older lady, she was strong. When I finally managed to get her hands off of me, she had already violated my front, behind, and every portion in between. She walked away laughing and blowing kisses at my shocked face.
My girlfriend looked amused. I was grossed out.
The only moment that was (almost) worth our $74 was when we watched a threesome in live-action. We were in a room where, through two windows, we could see into another room — one with a queen-sized bed where one man and two women played.
A large crowd had gathered around the two windows, and so I hugged my girlfriend tightly to fit in between all the people. We shared a look, both of us thinking the same thing: “Finally something worth watching!”
The male was fit and muscular, and the women were curvy and pretty. All eyes were on the trio in fascination — except for one man; his eyes were glued to my girlfriend.
Yes, my girlfriend was a beauty to look at, but all the action was going on in front of us. Why was he watching my girlfriend? I pulled her in tighter and chose to ignore him. But before long, I noticed he wasn’t just staring — he was flat out masturbating while looking at her!
And then he approached us, with his pants still down and in plain view, and asked: “Can I touch?”
Before we could answer, the same hand which he had previously been occupied with pleasing himself was now caressing my girlfriend’s shoulder.
“No,” my girlfriend said while I slapped his hand away. We stood there, outraged that he had touched her until he zipped up his pants and left, clearly unhappy.
I glanced at my girlfriend and I knew the look she had on her face: pure disgust. “Want to go?” I asked her.
“Let’s go,” she said immediately, but not before rubbing an excessive amount of hand sanitizer on her shoulder.
We left the club feeling gross, creeped out, and a little outraged. That’s not the feeling you want at a swinger’s club. And after some research, we found we were lucky; people have reported all types of swingers’ club horror stories online, including a full-on rape, and that’s only the stories that were reported.
Months later, we worked up the courage to try another swingers club (crazy, right?), and it was surprisingly much better – it resembled a house party and the atmosphere was one of partying and having fun – not of dodging fat single guys.
We later even tried an online swingers’ dating website, Adult Friend Finder, and we had much better luck finding someone attractive to comfortably have fun and play with.
The moral of the story is: if there are crackheads outside of your local swinger’s club, don’t go in. You’ll be violated in all the wrong ways and still have to pay $74.