A Wet Monday Afternoon in a Swingers’ Club

In a previous Wicked Wednesday post, I wrote about being the only female among a group of naked men. The purpose of that post was to talk about weight and how those men did not seem concerned about the fact they were overweight and naked, whereas I was self-conscious about doing the same. I did not mention the reason for my nakedness.

S (my lover) and I had discussed visiting a swingers club a number of times and, back on a very wet Monday afternoon in June, we decided to visit a club in Manchester. We chose to go on a Monday afternoon as we knew it was likely to be quiet. We were going out of curiosity and also because we knew the club would provide the opportunity to get some time together privately. I made it clear before we went that I did not want unknown men touching me.

Swingers club image

This was not my first visit to a swingers club; I visited a club earlier this year during my first meeting with a Twitter friend. That visit was for social reasons and for the experience of visiting a club; I did not go with the expectation of more.

I was very apprehensive, but also excited, as we parked in a dingy side street near the club. Manchester’s weather lived up to its reputation on that day and the rain was torrential making the drab, urban surroundings appear even more gloomy.

I felt very self-conscious as we stood outside the entrance and I wondered if passers-by would be casting judgement on us. S pressed the buzzer on the front door and we waited for a few seconds before we were given access to the entrance lobby. A face appeared at a small hatch opposite the door.We gave our names and were let through the inner door into the club; it all felt a bit cloak and dagger as if we were visiting somewhere illicit.

We paid our entrance fee to the guy who had admitted us; he was very friendly and told us about the facilities and the rules pertaining to single guys, and then gave us each a towel. It was a ‘dress-down’ club – no covering apart from a towel to protect your modesty. Very different to my previous experience where the club was fully-clothed. We changed in the couples’ changing room, wrapped our towels around us and ventured out into the unknown to see what went on on in a swingers’ club on a wet Monday afternoon in Manchester.

The thing that struck me as soon as I entered the club was how dimly lit it was. My eyesight isn’t brilliant, so my vision takes a while to adjust to very dim lighting. I guess that the low level of lighting is meant to add to the ambiance of the place.  I also noticed that there was a a damp, musty smell throughout the club. Perhaps inevitable given that that the building was very old, plus the rain was on par with a monsoon that day and the temperature of the jacuzzi was incredibly hot creating a lot of humidity.

Our travels around the building revealed a couple of private rooms, a number of public rooms with screens all showing the same porn clips concurrently, a sauna, hot tub and some areas for general relaxation. The place was very quiet, as we’d hoped and expected. There was a notable absence of females, apart from me. There had been another couple there, who had left just after we’d arrived. I noticed approximately eight men dotted around the building – all hanging around hoping for some Monday afternoon action. All waiting for a female to appear…

The last room we went to look at was located on the top floor of the building. There were a few steps up to the doorway and looking up, to my left, I  could see two sets of large feet, side by side. To the right, a screen was showing the now all-familiar porn. I decided that it would be too intrusive to go any further. S climbed the few steps and looked in. He came back down and said that there were two guys in there playing with their cocks, side by side, avidly watching the porn. My thoughts were that they wouldn’t have welcomed me bursting in on them. S grinned and replied that they probably would have been delighted for me to have appeared round the corner…

We took ourselves off to one of the private rooms – one with a lock, where we spent a pleasurable hour. However, due to the general dampness everywhere, the room was very humid and airless.  The bed (and several other surfaces in the club) was covered in red vinyl and the friction of my head on the vinyl combined with the humidity created my first-ever case of ‘bed hair’. The smell of of the warm vinyl bought back a childhood memory of the smell of the red vinyl seats in my dad’s Triumph 2000 car in hot weather. An unfortunately-timed flashback.

After an hour,  we were far too hot and had had enough of the airless room. It was time to try the hot tub. However, it was occupied by two guys and although there was room for us, it would have been very cosy and I lost my nerve about removing my towel.

We decided to get a drink  and went to sit in one of the public rooms. There was one guy in there watching the porn that was showing. We all sat in silence just looking at the screen. The clips that were showing were awful. Not realistic and certainly not sexy, to me anyway. I asked S if he found it a turn-on, which he didn’t. We continued to stare at the screen, and I collapsed into hysterical laughter at what was developing on screen. The sound was muted too, which made it even more hideous. The lone guy in the room was highly amused by my reaction and admitted that what was showing was not sexy at all.

When we returned to the hot tub, there was one guy in there. I decided to be brave and drop my towel. I climbed in, as elegantly as I could, stumbled and nearly fell on top of him, apologising profusely. We made small talk between the tree of us. I was enjoying the sensations of he hot, bubbling water around me and the feeling of the jets massaging my back. I noticed a light tickling on my ankle. A gentle water jet I thought. It stopped then started again a minute or so later. The jet started to creep up my leg… It obviously wasn’t the jet, but my hot tub friend (as he has now been christened) gently feeling my leg. I didn’t quite know where to look or what to do and started to feel awkward. I hadn’t expected this, as one of the rules of the  club is that men do not touch women without consent; I naively expected that all men would comply with this.  He stopped and asked if I minded him feeling my leg. Not knowing what else to say, and feeling flustered, I foolishly said it was OK as long as his hand didn’t go any further.  Immediately, his hand crept up to the back of my thigh. I did object this time and he responded by asking if he could feel my boobs. I made my feelings on this very clear and S  promptly decided that it was time to for us to get out of the hot tub. I turned around to climb out and, when faced with my bum,my hot tub friend became even more obvious in his attentions. I think he was just trying to grab an opportunity rather than being a danger, but he should not have pushed his luck. And I should have been more assertive and said no straightaway.

We decided to go back downstairs and sat in one of the public rooms, where we saw a guy we had passed the time of day with earlier. There was also another guy there, idly fiddling with his cock. who asked me if I would like him to cover up with his towel. I I thought was very respectful of him and said there was no need.  Both guys were very pleasant and friendly and we were able to have an enjoyable conversation with them. My hot tub friend subsequently appeared – evidently not fazed by my rejection of his advances – the three of them were clearly regulars at the club and knew each other well.  After a while, they subtly suggested that S and I  should ‘make ourselves comfortable’ in their presence. However, I definitely did not  want to do anything publicly and certainly not with my hot tub friend present, who obviously wanted to get his hands on me. We decided to call it a day, said our goodbyes and went to get dressed.

It was an interesting introduction to swingers clubs and as a result I have become much  more aware of the power of a female in this type of situation. And more aware of the need to be more assertive and say no. I sensed a very primal atmosphere akin to the animal kingdom, with males prowling looking for females. I never went with the intention, or had the desire, of having any sexual contact with other men, but it was obvious it would have been easy to have them doing exactly as I wanted. That in itself is an empowering thought.  But not for this occasion, though…

Read more about my next visit to a swingers club here

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