This morning was the start of something big It was a beautiful morning. Hubby had gone to work and as the sun burst through the curtains my clit burst into life. I was invigorated. Stroking furiously, at the ideas of what the day might bring. Today, the last day of February, felt like the first day of Spring. It felt like the beginning of a new chapter in my journey. Today, finally I was ready to take the plunge.
After ahem, cleaning up, I decided to join a well-known swinging website. I didn’t really know what to expect, or what it all entailed. My perception of swingers has always been a somewhat garish 1970’s sepia-toned view. Rather overweight couples cavorting on orange sofas. Moustaches- yes, lots and lots of moustaches. And to be frank, offensively hairy ball-sacks. So I was pleasantly surprised when I perused the fare openly on offer on this site. So many cocks to choose from of so many different varieties. Some rather shrivelled, sorry looking prunes (why advertise this, lads?) and some thick, bulging specimens which made my pussy tighten to imagine them filling me. I wrote my profile, pretty much explaining the purpose of my adventure and then sadly had to go out.
On my return I had 132 unread messages. 132! How on earth to tackle this? I will preserve dignity and anonymity of others but here are some examples…
HI I WOULD LOVE TO OWN YOU AND SHARE YOU MAKE U MY SLUT FOR LIFE WOULD LOVE YOU TO MOVE IN WITH ME AND START A LIFE XXX
No need to shout, lover 😉 He left his number. Honestly, I wondered whether to pass it onto the good folk of the local constabulary….
Then I had loads of people offering to ‘help’ with the blog – down, boys….all in good time!
So day 1 in the world of swinging and have my perceptions changed? Yes. It appears ‘swingers’ means mainly men who want to cheat on their wives. Now, I’ll not pass judgement on that, because essentially I’m no more scrupulous on that front. It’s just I expected variety, excitement. A range of fantasies to be fulfilled, passions to be unlocked. Instead it feels like a bus-queue of cocks waiting in line. Imagine a low-grade talent contest where one by one they trudge into a room, wearily pull their pants down and show Amanda Holden a shrunken penis. ‘Next!’ she cries. And from 132 hopefuls not one, not a single girl (although a handful of friendly couples)
But there’s another part of me that still feels like a kid in a sweetie shop. All this cock, for moi?! Do I choose this one, or that one? All of it, or none at all? I have a decision to make. Is it quality I’m after, or quantity? The only thing I know is that my pussy hasn’t stopped quivering all day at the thought of sex with a stranger.
That’s normally a good way to end things until next time, but I wanted to finish this post with a genuinely lovely message from one of the fabulous 132….
Holy shit, I’m sat at my desk in work and reading your blog. I’m only half way through and thoroughly enjoying myself.
You sound incredible! I can’t leave my desk since I’m having trouser issues.
Anyway, just wanted to say thanks for brightening a Friday!
Forget the sex bit for a minute. If I can do that for one person, then it makes it all totally worthwhile. Thankyou x
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