Downstairs

My posts on this weekend are going to come in several parts, written here at work as my time allows. I’m hoping to share and say everything I want to before the day is out, but we’ll just have to wait and see how that works out. I have a lot on my to-do list here, and it wouldn’t do me much good to go and get myself fired. :)

Saturday night Dee and I checked out our first sex club (or swingers club, or whatever you’d choose to call it). The club we went to has two parts – the downstairs, where it’s about the socializing, and the upstairs, which is about the sex. Downstairs, they have live bands, dancing, dinner, drinks, and conversation. Upstairs, they have play areas. We were hosted by our friends “John” and “Jane” -- they might play a role in future posts, and I may have to come up with better , but for today we’ll just stick with John and Jane Doe.

I’m going to keep my posts and observations to what I personally think (or thought) and feel (or felt). If Dee wishes to post her own thoughts, or offer a different point of view, I’m sure she’ll post her own entry – and I hope she does, just so I can read it!

We spent the first five hours or so downstairs, meeting people, having dinner (and drinks!), talking with John and Jane, and having a wonderful time. Dee even managed to get me tipsy enough to join her on the dance floor – a very rare thing, as I don’t dance at all. Everybody was very easygoing, supportive, and friendly. I felt very comfortable there, and I sensed Dee felt the same way.

I was a bit surprised in the lack of any sexual vibe I felt there, however. I had expected there would be an overriding electricity, a sense of anticipatory foreplay, a feeling of flirtation in every conversation, but there wasn’t. For want of a better description, the sexuality felt academic, almost as though everyone there was approaching the social (downstairs) portion of the evening with the same resigned “Please, God, just get me through this “ that I feel in anticipating another routine workday. I felt like one of the fun parts for me – the flirtation that leads to caresses that turn into massages and become the slow segue into sex – were nothing but monotonous onerous impediments… pro forma requirements that were nothing but red tape and paperwork. Still, up until the last half hour or so, I had nothing short of a wonderful time – far better than I’d actually anticipated.

That last half hour, my enjoyment faded a little, and the underlying arousal I’d held all evening dissipated and disappeared. We went outside with John and Jane and a few others to have one more smoke before heading upstairs to check out the goings on there. There are a number of ways I would describe the conversation that went on there – and all of them are bad.

It should be noted here that John is a supplier of sorts, of the new Hitachi vibrator, and he professes to be an expert in it’s use, and appears to be… a little too proud of it for my taste. Thus, when the conversation turned to the vibrator of choice, the conversation descended into unarousing form. It became part sales pitch (“They’re available at the desk here, far cheaper than you can buy anywhere else!”), part audio instruction book (“If you do this first, and this second, Dee will become much more sensitive to step three, which is…”). It was part pseudo-bullshit infomercial (“Yes, Dee, too, can get off in less than 30 seconds! You’ll never need to waste time with foreplay again!”), and part pressure sell (“In fact, most people have TWO!”). It was even slightly insulting – at one point it was suggested to me that repeated use of this in the proper way would cause Dee to be much more sensitive all the time, and that without that, I couldn’t possibly satisfy her the way a woman should be satisfied… but “With it… Jane thinks I’m a total stud! How can any man NOT want that?”

All this was followed by an offer – come upstairs and see a physical demonstration!

And so it was, I lost most of my good cheer. Still, when Dee volunteered to be the recipient of that demonstration (to my great surprise), I pressed on, hoping my earlier feelings and mood would return.