Zen and the Art Of Swinging or How I Achieved Equilibrium

Hmm, that title up there makes it sound like I’m going to explain something to you, or take you step by step through a process, doesn’t it? I don’t think I could do that.

I am going to tell you that I feel enlightened. I feel calm and comfortable. I feel like, for the first time maybe ever, I understand a great mystery about male and female interaction that I never quite grasped before, and before you ask, I don’t think I could put it into words now. So this is gonna be a bit of a stroll for me as I sort of center around a concept. It’s well known that I have a problem with expectations, the want for something to happen that almost becomes a need, but it wasn’t until recently that I realized how powerful that drive within me is. How strongly my brain pushes its expectations.

I was having dinner with a friend in the lifestyle, ostensibly to help him with his own troubles, and he wound up giving me a great bit of insight into myself.

Forever, at swinger gatherings I was sort of playing a bizarro version of beat the clock. When Marilyn and my big trouble hit at the beginning of our swinging life, it was because a swinger party paired up, and somehow I got left holding the metaphorical purses. Ever since then, it’s been a race against time to find and partner up so as not to be the “last picked” or last man standing. If I didn’t find connection, or fuck, or whatever, I felt as though I’d “lost the night.”

And, as any lifestyle man will tell you, we all lose the night, except when we win.

So my friend, over some scotch, told me of a trip to Vegas, with a several club bar crawl for the evening, where he did very well with the ladies without even trying. Fascinated, I asked for more: “Because we were going to these other clubs, I wasn’t worried about making any big moves all night. I was able to just talk to women, flirt a little, and they came to me.”

It was the removal of the “end game goal” and perhaps the concept of removing end game entirely that fascinated me. And when I said goodbye for the night, he went home to think about the things I’d said, and I thought DEEPLY about those comments.

I’d been given the key, to a lock I hadn’t even realized was there before, and the next night was the first swinger party we’d been guests at since that fateful night that almost destroyed our entire lifestyle experiment in one fell swoop.

I committed this to myself, that I would go in without end game in mind. That we’re arriving at 8pm at a party that generally goes till 4. There’s no need for quick plays, for pushing, there’s really not even any need to hook up. We’re there with friends, and Marilyn promised not to leave me holding the purse.

“I’ve got your back,” she said.

“I love you,” I said, “Let’s go sexin’.”

(It’s entirely possible I didn’t say that and instead it’s just a quote from a John Waters movie I happen to really enjoy, but no need to nitpick here…)

Once inside, I found that for the first time I didn’t feel nervous, I didn’t have the pressure cooker going. I was able to say hello to people, and have some wine, and mingle and talk with friends, and introduce myself to people I didn’t know, tell women they’re beautiful, glad hand, talk websites, talk movies, talk sexy, really get to know people…

And it wasn’t too long later I was fucking a girl doggy style on the kitchen floor with people enjoying the view and my wife beaming at me thinking “How the FUCK did I do this?”

I didn’t.

That was the key. That was the piece of the puzzle that’d been eluding me. And it makes sense and looks really fucking obvious looking back now because it’s not a new insight. My interest was ambiguous, not obvious. And because of that, I was alluring. Me! Cooper Beckett! Being told “I want you to fuck me right here!”

I know, I know, the readers of this website seem to have a misguided belief that I’m some sort of UBER-SWINGER, but no no, I wrestle with many insecurities that hamper that status on a day to day basis. But this was a breakthrough. Later in the evening, it happened again, with another girl I’d flirted and chatted with, gave a momentary kiss to, now on the bed, panties down, telling me to fuck her.

And it amazed me that, seemingly, the secret to having control of yourself in this lifestyle (perhaps in any) is to allow yourself to relinquish control. As soon as I stopped trying to hook up, it suddenly became easier than I ever imagined.

I took the “End Game” theory a bit further, even. On a date with a close friend, I was having difficulty reaching orgasm, and after a while, difficulty maintaining the erection. Something that I could sense happening for a number of reasons, including the amount of wine I drank at dinner, the very full meal, the very long day. In the past these moments were terror inducing, I’d close my eyes and try to talk some sense into the cock, which only got me more and more panicked, and more and more stressed.

But in this moment, I simply told her “I don’t think it’s going to happen, and it’s okay, I’m not that worried about it. This feels amazing.”

I don’t even know where the words came from. It was as though I was telling myself this very thing at the same time I was relaying it to her. It’s true, even in the past when I’ve had trouble the sensation from the handjob or blowjob or whatever was happening at the time was always wonderful, I was just spending too much time stressing about things to notice. But here I was completely extracting the perceived end game from the proceedings. And you know what? Even though I didn’t cum, I had a wonderful time as always, just this time with none of the stress of wondering “why can’t I cum?” or “why am I not hard?”

So what am I saying?

Maybe that you can do this too.  ’Cuz, I’m a fucking neurotic and a paranoid, my brain doesn’t know how to turn off to just ENJOY, it sits there and evaluates and REvaluates over and over until I can’t focus on anything except the questions in my head.

And I did it. I hit ZEN. I turned the questions off and enjoyed the ride.

Now go and do likewise.