Swinging for Dummies

As usual, many thanks to Randi and George for improving this story.

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The morning after had begun, I guess. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the wall like an idiot. Hell, I wasn't even aware that there was a wall in front of me. It might just as well have been a horde of bug eyed aliens, I wouldn't have noticed. All I could think about was that damn party. Yet again the whole evening was replayed before my inner eye.

This is it. The infamous "Black Party." The invitation had arrived months ago and we had talked a lot about it, trying to understand why nobodies like us were invited to such a hip and exclusive event. The invitation alone had been scarily stylish, photo and layout pros had obviously been involved. So why lavish all of this on un-rich, un-hip us? We had no idea, and we knew we would be fish out of water, or maybe aliens in the wrong solar system, but decided to go anyway.

The invitation said "dress code: black," whatever that meant. Hell, that could be anything from a black thong to a pony harness to black tie, with or without the tux. We asked and were told it was completely up to us. That was no help at all.

Our hosts, Melanie and Lucas, are about 15 years older than we are, and they move in a whole different crowd. Lucas is broad shouldered, at first sight quite intimidating. He seems to think that everybody regards him as some kind of harmless teddy bear, but I know that that's far from the truth. He has the natural authority that makes people in restaurants or shops immediately attend to his smallest wish. It doesn't hurt that he's a self-made millionaire and damn good looking.

His wife, Mel, is quirky and weird in a nice way. One day she wants to start raising owls, the next she wants to open a funeral parlor for pets or become a Japanese garden planner. Of course, she is a rich man's spoiled wife, but she plays that role in an endearing way.

We finally get out of our old Skoda clunker after having parked it among a fleet of Porsches, BMWs and Mercedes. I'm wearing tight leather trousers and a tight black T-shirt, showing off my moderately developed muscles. I think Carla's sexy LBD shows off her lean elegant form to perfection. For us, this is outrageously extroverted and sexy. As a result, we're insecure as hell, afraid to make fools of ourselves, as we apprehensively slink towards the entrance of the small castle Lucas and Mel have rented for the occasion.

Holy shit, they even have a black carpet instead of a red one, four massive torches and some kind of completely black clad pantomimist to greet the guests. Wow. I feel out of place and Carla is clutching my hand tighter. A black clad waiter approaches us and offers a black tray full of Champagne flutes. The champagne is not black, thank God. Eager to have something to hold on to, we each grab one.

We realize we were wrong when thinking that Carla's LBD would appear overly sexy or my T-shirt displays any kind of muscles as Lucas and Mel rush towards us. Holy cow, they look like they're fresh from a fetish convention. He's wearing some kind of harness to show off his muscular body to full effect. She's wearing some leather stuff too, very tight and revealing. I relax, and Carla's grip loosens so I can feel my fingers again. We are definitely on the conservative side of the clothing spectrum, regardless of what we're about to find inside. Next to those two no one will notice us, and that's the way we prefer things anyway.

"Come on in," Lucas shouts in his typical masterful way as he and Mel lead us inside. I can't help but smile and relax. Those two are so relaxed and self-assured, it always rubs off a bit on Carla and me, the shy, self-conscious nerds.

Wow, this is awesome. They have rented the whole castle and turned it into some kind of upscale disco. The typical weed smell tells me that it's not just dry ice the air is heavy with. The music is great, a light tasteful techno beat. A colored light show illuminates the old rough stone walls. A saxophonist just joins in while standing on some kind of stage. Wow. Look at that blonde, long straight hair down to her ass. Literally. I can see the ends of her hair touching the top of her ass cheeks, which are just visible, thanks to some generous back cleavage. I wonder if it tickles. Reluctantly, I move my gaze upwards and see that she has observed my somewhat detailed inspection. She just winks and turns away.

"Here," might be what Lucas screams towards me as he hands me some mysterious alcoholic concoction that he's received from one of the very professional looking bartenders. Wow, look at that bar. That would put a few high-end night clubs to shame. The two bar tenders look so classy and bar-tendery that it's almost a stereotype. Lucas grabs a cocktail for himself while I see from the corner of my eye that Mel is taking care of Carla in much the same way. Some guy who looks like an exceptionally handsome underwear model greets, first Lucas, and then me, as if we are old friends. He is exactly the kind of guy who wouldn't normally give me the time of the day, but I'm Lucas' friend, so I seem to be his friend, as well. Like everyone else, he wears black: some kind of short and extremely tight spandex trousers and heavy leather boots. That's it. Weird choice, but if you look like he does, you can wear anything. Sure, I'd wear something like that if I had his outstandingly muscular body and extroverted personality. In short, if I were him, not me.

I notice that my glass is empty and I immediately have another one in my hand. I'm not sure how that happened. Mr. Spandex has moved to Carla and Mel, hugging them both as if they were his oldest friends and feeling Mel's ass up a little. He grabs Carla's ass as well as if it is the most natural thing in the world when meeting a woman for the first time. She frowns, obviously hardly believing what's happening, and firmly removes his hand. He's not bothered at all; he just keeps talking to Carla and Mel as if everything is normal. Lucas sees it as well, and looks at me as if he wants me to answer some sort of question. I have no idea what he means, so I drink some more of whatever is in my hand. After a moment he shrugs, smiles, and leads me towards the dance floor. Soon I'm dancing like I've never done anything else, and I'm starting to forget the whole outside world.

Wow, look at that Redhead. That should be illegal. I can't stop looking at her side boob cleavage, which is totally hypnotizing. I have seen a lot of nipples in my life, although I have touched just two of them. I am fairly sure that Redhead's nipples will look more or less the same, but for some reason seeing them is suddenly the most important thing in my life. Sadly, her dress only appears careless. It isn't. It covers her damn nipples no matter how she moves. I see Lucas returning and realize I never noticed that he was gone. He laughs, taps Redhead on her shoulder and shouts something into her ear. For some reason it looks like he wants to eat her ear and I have to laugh uncontrollably. She seems to understand him, which is surprising, given the overall noise level. I certainly didn't. Then she looks me straight in the eyes, smiles and slowly starts to pull her dress down. Wow. She wouldn't really, would she? Lucas hands me a fresh glass. Wow, the old one was empty again? Cool. I still can't see that damn nipple. Redhead comes closer to me and suddenly kisses me fully on the mouth. In panic, I look around. I have totally forgotten about Carla. I feel like a cheater, being kissed by a strange beauty at a party I have just arrived at. I realize that I have no idea how long we've been here. To my surprise, Carla is standing just a few meters from me, watching me. She just smiles. Cool. Lucas is there again, handing me a lit joint. I don't have a lot of experience with that, but refusing would make me look like an idiot. Redhead suddenly takes my head with both hands. She bends it downwards. I am looking straight into her left side cleavage. Cool. Her perfume is thick and sweet. She lifts her left arm. She's forgotten a few hairs while shaving her arm pit. That's okay. The important thing is that her right hand is pulling down her dress. Wow. There it is: her left nipple. This is so sexy. She is so sexy. She might be most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I'm starting to get a massive boner. I take another drag from the joint. She takes it away from me. She takes a puff, smiling. The lights have changed. They sparkle somehow. The colors are different. I realize her nipple is gone from my view again. When did that happen? The smell of weed is heavy. I see Carla in the background. She's smiling. Her face is glowing. Everything around me is glowing. Carla's giving me a thumbs up. Cool. She's okay with this. My head is dizzy. Everything is spinning peacefully around me. Redhead is now dancing right in front of me. Someone hands me a new glass. I check the floor. Did I spill the previous one? No, the floor is dry as a bone. I need to relax and take a drink. The lights are blinding. Colorful. Blurry. Redhead grinds her ass onto my raging hard on. She hands me another joint. I take a deep drag. Cool. I feel warm, sexy, surrounded by friends. Redhead reaches back towards my ass. She pulls herself onto me. Wow. My free hand moves onto her left boob. It squeezes it. That feels nice. She turns her head and smiles at me. My hand squeezes harder. She smiles wider. I see Carla in the background. It's hard to focus on anything. She is watching me. She's laughing. She looks happy. She's so cool. I love her. My hand squeezes Redhead's boob a bit more. She laughs while looking back at me. I can see a few fillings in her lower teeth. Her lipstick looks a bit frayed. She looks up as if she wants to kiss me. I look at Carla. She has seen all of this, and she's smiling. She's encouraging me. Wow. She's so cool. Redhead has turned around. When did she do that? My glass is empty again. Her boobs feel good against my chest. They are big. Soft, yet firm. I need both hands. How can I get rid of that damn glass? My free hand moves onto her boob. I don't move it, it does it on its own. Wait, is that even my hand? It looks familiar. It sneaks inside her dress. She's laughing again. Her breath smells strange. It's some herb, but I can't place it. She kisses me deeply. Her tongue fights with mine. My dick is aching. Shivers run down my spine. Holy cow. This is the sexiest thing I've ever done. Carla watches me curiously. She sees that I'm looking at her. She gives me thumbs up. Cool. She is the coolest woman ever. Generous. Somewhere a saxophonist plays. Redhead is still kissing me. Carla grants me this awesome experience. I love her. My other hand is on Redhead's ass. Wow. Feels great. Where has the glass gone? Why should I care? Mr. Spandex is at Carla's side. How long has he been there? It's too hard to figure out. I squeeze Redhead's butt cheek. Firm, but not as firm as Carla's. Redhead is bigger and softer everywhere. Is this peppermint I'm tasting? Carla and Mr. Spandex are feeling up each other. That's good. She should have some fun, as well. My right hand suddenly holds a joint instead of an ass cheek. That's okay. I take a drag. It tastes funny. I can't place it. My left hand is still inside Redhead's dress. On her boob. Her nipple is hard. Like a small pebble. Cool. She's aroused as well. Carla and Spandex are kissing. Wow. That's awesome. That guy is hot. I'm glad for her. They look hot together. The music is great. The saxophonist joins in again. Wow, that guy is good. More dry ice. Or is that weed smoke? I have to laugh uncontrollably. Everything is so funny. Sexy. Carla is still kissing that hot guy. My mouth is empty suddenly. Wow. Has Redhead been kissing me all the time? I squeeze her boob a bit more. She laughs. She suddenly has my joint and takes a drag. She wants to give it back. I look for available hands. My left is on her boob. My right is holding a glass again. When did that happen? The rhythm blurs into one continuous thing. Redhead laughs. Carla is massaging Spandex's crotch. Wow. This is like real life porn, just sexier. Redhead sees it. She starts massaging my dick, too. I might explode any second. I've never felt so sexy before. Carla points at Spandex. I nod, not knowing what she wants to tell me. Redhead presses her boob harder onto my hand. Wow, doesn't that hurt? Carla points at Spandex again and makes a walking sign with her fingers. She wants to go take a walk with him? Maybe have a hot make out session of her own? The beat of the bass is hypnotic. I see a hot blonde dancing near us. Wow. She bends forwards. If my eyes would focus properly, I could see her whole boobs. Yeet! They aren't pretty. Doesn't matter. This is so sexy. Carla catches my eye again. She makes some unintelligible gesture and points at Spandex' crotch. I look where she is pointing. I have no idea what she means. She should have some fun, though. She has been so cool all this time. Redhead kisses me deeply again. Her boob feels awesome. Carla just smiles. I pull a drag from some joint that is near me. I nod at Carla. She sees it and mouths "thank you". She's been great. She should have some fun. Like I have. I love her so much. She will look hot, kissing that guy. Redhead kisses me again. I hadn't noticed that she stopped. She starts to open my zipper. I look at Carla for approval. She's gone. Wait, what? Where is she? This is no fun when she's not around. I don't want to do this without her permission. I have a fresh glass in my hand yet again. I think maybe I've had enough. How much have I drunk, anyway? Way too much, probably. I smell stale sweat now instead of weed. I look around. The place is almost empty. The DJ starts to wind things down. It is lighter in here now. I take a good look at Redhead again. Suddenly, she doesn't look as appealing. She turns around and heads towards the toilets. I need fresh air. I stumble towards the exit. The erotic mood is gone. What have I just done? What has just happened? Where the fuck is Carla? I agreed to something, but I don't know what. I don't feel so good about this anymore.

The night air is chilly and I have no idea what time it is. I check my phone and I see it's about 3 o'clock. There is a text from Carla that I hadn't noticed earlier. "Thank you. Have fun, stay safe. I love you."

I try to ring her. She needs to know that nothing happened, that I wanted nothing to happen. Neither with the Redhead nor with Mr. Spandex. Impatiently I wait for her phone to ring. "The person you're calling is not available." Shit. Shit.

I look around. The night is fresh and clear. The music behind me has stopped. I'm completely alone and I'm glad for it. I couldn't stand anyone right now. There is no wind, the stars are shining brightly. I feel tears running down my cheeks. What have we done? I never wanted this.

I snapped out of memory lane and looked at the kitchen clock. Again. 6:10. It is the only source of light in an apartment that had somehow never been so dark and empty before. I thought about calling her yet again, but when I checked my call list, there was a (17) behind her name. What good would result from calling her the 18th time? None. Of course, I still made the call. Unavailable. Shit.

I knew it was unhealthy to think about what they were doing right then, but I couldn't help it. Drinking would probably be what most men would do in such a situation, but the mere thought of alcohol almost made me puke. Alcohol and some difficult to describe misunderstanding were what got me in this situation and booze seemed like the last thing I needed at the moment.

I must have dozed off shortly because the next time I looked at the damn clock, it showed 9:17. I looked around, but the apartment was still as empty as it had been three hours earlier. Shit. They couldn't possibly still be fucking? What kind of superman was he? I couldn't dispute that I had given her permission to do something with Mr. Spandex, but it certainly wasn't meant to be more than a quick romp. How could I have been that dumb anyway? I remembered those gestures she had made, the walking one and pointing to his crotch. Their meaning was crystal clear to me now, but wasn't at the time. Hell, nothing had been clear at the time. I had been full of drugs, alcohol and testosterone. Should anything I had done under these conditions really count? I guess it did in Carla's mind, and that was all that mattered. Damn.

At noon, I couldn't stand it anymore. I thought I wanted to be at home when she returned, but couldn't remember why. I decided to take a walk. Anything would be better than waiting at home, feeling like the powerless idiot I truly was. I left the apartment, looking around constantly, always expecting her to turn up any time. It didn't happen, but I probably looked like a paranoiac, constantly looking over my shoulder. Finally, I had reached the nearby forest. I was truly alone and could stop looking and hoping for a while. I forced myself to walk a complete lap. That way, she would definitely be at home when I returned and we could talk then. No need to think about her until then. About the handsome guy probably having sex with her right at that moment. About her screaming in ecstasy underneath him. Stop, Martin. This is leading nowhere. I tried to look at a very interesting flock of ducks swimming in the pond instead. Fascinating creatures, ducks. Why had I always ignored them? Any distraction was welcome.

I managed to not constantly think about Carla and Mr. Spandex until I was almost home again. I looked up and saw our apartment building looming in front of me. Shit, what if she was home? What would we say? Who would be angry at whom? Was anyone guilty of anything? Shit.

Apprehensively, I opened the door and immediately knew she wasn't at home. Seriously? It was 14:30 and she was still in his bed? How long was it possible for two people to have sex? Shit, yesterday my life had been perfect, today everything was ruined and I didn't even understand what had happened.

The door lock disturbed the perfect silence at 20:47, making me jump. I forced myself to stay at the kitchen table and not rush towards the door to greet her, hug her and beg for something, I didn't know what. She finally appeared in the kitchen door.

"Ah, there you are," she calmly said, like nothing had happened. Well, where else should I be?

She was still wearing the LBD she had on earlier, but her hair wasn't styled anymore. She had washed it and tied it back into a pony tail. Her makeup was gone. She had a calm and relaxed expression, which hurt me like hell. She looked exactly like woman having just had outstanding sex. She even had the audacity to smile contently at me.

"Have fun?" I tersely asked.

"Yes," was the brief answer. I waited for more, but that was obviously the extent of her explanation.

"You could have come home a bit earlier, you know. I've been worried."

"I could have, but I didn't want to. Look, I'm sorry if you're upset, but you agreed to this. You had your fling with the redheaded bimbo, I had mine with Michel." So, Mr. Spandex had a name. I hated him even more.

"I didn't."

"Oh. I thought that was the deal."

"We never talked about what the deal was."

"The deal was we both had a wild card last night. I used mine. I'm not going to feel guilty about you not using yours."

She might as well have added "deal with it," and she looked like she almost did. Now what? What could I say? I felt like the aggrieved party, yet there was nothing I could really complain about. I had consented to something, she was right. The fact that I'd had no idea what I was consenting to didn't seem to matter. Shit.

"Look, Martin, I'm tired."