Douchebagopolis. Population: Him (or “When Communication Fails In Swinging”)


Perhaps that title gives away the fact that this story does not center on a happy tale. Unlike most of our other posts, this is not a generally upbeat story. But we post on this blog for your entertainment and education. And perhaps as a bit of cathartic, therapeutic disclosure of our adventures whether happy or horrific.

This story will be co-written by Mrs. Said (with her words in green). Here we go.

Back in the summer, we went to a swinger meet-and-greet in a private area of a bar. We planned to meet a couple we had ‘met’ on SDC and decided to go a little earlier than they told us they’d be there. We had a great time at the previous event put on by this group so our hopes were high.

We grabbed drinks and started to mill around a bit. Shortly, we fell into our habit of standing off to the side, chatting between ourselves, people-watching. After a bit, a nice gentleman (let’s call him Jack) excused himself from the conversation with his wife and another couple and introduced himself to us. We chatted, laughed, chatted more, then he dragged a couple chairs over to where his wife and the other couple were.

The lady of the other couple, despite being 25 and having a nice rack (attributes that usually warrant a brief conversation at least), may have been the most tiresome conversationalist on the planet. After she and her equal partner bade us farewell, we got to focus on Jack and his wife. I could tell Mrs. Said was digging Jack. He is attractive, down to earth, and was obviously attracted to her – both in mental and physical terms. His wife was cute, but quiet. They were a little on the high side of our preferred age range, but he and Mrs. Said were quickly forming a mutual admiration society. I was trying hard to engage the wife. Some say ‘never take one for the team’, but I think hooking up with someone who falls short of your ideal is a nice thing to do when your mate is really digging on their mate.

After a little while, the other folks we planned to meet showed up so we bid adieu to Jack and his wife. When Mrs. Said later filled me in on her conversation, she told me that Jack has permission to play without his wife. Knowing that Mrs. Said has always fantasized about a MFM threesome, Jack became the lead candidate. Since there was absolutely no spark between his wife and me, it made a lot of sense.

They struck up quite a robust email and text relationship – all completely visible to me. They helped each other with some work stuff. He was clearly smitten with her, which I understood because she is – if I do say so myself – quite an attractive, intelligent, fun catch of a woman.

Through his emails with Mrs. Said, we learned more about his background in swinging, which revealed something that concerned us. He met a woman while swinging and continued a relationship with her one-on-one after her husband thought they weren’t swinging any more. They had developed what he described as a deep emotional connection – a real romance.

While I expressed concern, Mrs. Said and I decided to proceed cautiously because he seemed to have learned that type of relationship wouldn’t work in the swing world. We told him we would only play together and he said he understood. At one point, I was rethinking whether I wanted to be part of a threesome with him. I offered a hall pass if Mrs. Said wanted. She said no, that she wanted this to be something we did together.

Fast forward a couple months and we are finally getting to see him and his wife at a New Years Eve party. We had no plans to play, no pressure. Jack and Mrs. Said knew fully that there was no spark between Mrs. Jack and me.

A little context here: For those couple of months this guy had been telling me how spectacular I was, and how deep his desire to be with us in a threesome was (okay, really it was about him having a chance to be with me – Mr. Said and I were under no illusions about what motivated him). As Holly described very well in a couple of recent posts that completely resonated for me here and here, I too had been out of the dating game and in a committed, monogamous relationship for so long that I would find myself quite surprised when people we met in this world found me sexy/attractive/smart/funny/enticing. Oh, I knew Mr. Said did, but I always thought it in his best interest to tell me how great he thought I was, and he never failed to do so. But along came this hot guy who was pegging the red zone of my physical attraction meter all while telling me how amazing he thought I was. It was a massive ego boost to say the least, and it was very intoxicating.

On NYE, we showed up at the skimpy-outfit-themed party in our street clothes and proceeded to mix and mingle. Jack and wife showed up a little later and the flirting began. I tried again to engage Mrs. Jack, but I couldn’t get a good read on her. She is smiling and laughing politely, but there’s no real two-way conversation going on. But I am optimistic that we can develop enough rapport to make a rocking night possible for Mrs. Said and Jack. After a while, I went out to the car to get our sex kit (condoms, lube, vibe, etc.) to put in our friend’s room when he offered to let Mrs. Said change into her skimpy outfit there. I handed the kit to her and said “Take this upstairs in case we need it later.”

They went upstairs and I figured they would probably play grab-ass in the elevator, maybe grope a little in the room. As the minutes ticked off, I tried to stay cool and wasn’t really worried because I trust Mrs. Said.

As it turns out, what Mrs. Said thought she heard me say was “Take this upstairs in case you need it later.”

In short, I was thinking with my vagina. I allowed it to seriously cloud my judgment in a crucial moment. Between me mis-hearing what Mr. Said said, my strong physical attraction to Jack, and the fact that I’d had a couple of inhibition-lowering drinks, I allowed myself to walk into a precarious situation. I, too, figured Jack and I would kiss and grope a bit then return downstairs.

After a little too long, they came back down. I asked what had happened…

Here’s what happened. When I went up to the room with him to change into my skimpy party outfit, he and I had already kissed a couple of times in the party room. I expected a hot, within-bounds, quick make-out session. After all, we had stated to him numerous times that Mr. Said and I played together as a couple and we wanted him to join into that. Numerous times in response to our setting that out very clearly, he acknowledged that he understood and respected what we were about as a couple.

Unbeknownst to Jack, Mr. Said and I had had this conversation about my getting a one-time Hall Pass to be with him. I had turned down that generous offer from my husband thinking it not a good idea in general – or where this guy in particular was concerned. But it was in the back of my mind.

when communication fails at a swinger partyAnd again, what I heard Mr. Said say to me about taking the sex kit upstairs to the room – in addition to a couple of other things that had passed between Mr. Said and myself prior to the party that night – lodged in my mind as implicit permission. Add to the fact that I’d had a few drinks (I’m not making an excuse here, just giving the context of the situation) and well, let’s just say it would have been better if Mr. Said had accompanied us to the room. Jack no doubt would have been respectful of the boundaries and I wouldn’t have allowed things to get out of hand, which they did – swiftly!

As soon as we got to Jack’s room, I took off my dress to reveal the lingerie underneath. He immediately grabbed me, picked me up, kissed me and threw me on the bed. Literally. Then he stripped my lingerie and panties from my body in one motion that was so fast I was kind of amazed they remained intact. The encounter had this hungry, animal quality to it – and who doesn’t want to be desired that deeply? It was rather thrilling. While that quality was to be expected due to the long build-up, the fact that the entire encounter remained that way threw me off a bit. It sounds naive even writing this, but here goes: I knew he had the propensity to push boundaries. I had no idea he would simply obliterate them.

The potion of attraction, alcohol, surprise and sexual desire prevented me from saying no when I should have. Despite having discussed our boundaries about separate play, I thought Mr. Said had green lighted a little tryst. So even though I was hesitant, I put up no defense when Jack went down on me. His whole demeanor once we entered the room was very ‘take charge’. While that usually is quite appealing to me, this time it just kind of threw me off. I wanted it, but didn’t. I thought I had permission, but it still felt wrong. But I didn’t stop him.

He came up to face me and reached down to enter me – without a condom. I told him ‘no way’ and he found a condom to use. After a few minutes of rather rough, not very satisfying pounding, it was over.

I didn’t stop him. And that is completely my failure. When Jack and I returned to the party, I quickly disclosed to Mr. Said what had happened…

…and she told me they had sex. I managed to stay calm outside but I was losing my mind. I went for a walk outside the hotel. I tried to stay cool. I was apoplectic…

… and was met with a reaction that surprised me a little – and then sent a chill through my veins and my stomach plummeting through the floor when I realized how royally I had messed up and how badly I had misinterpreted some of Mr. Said’s and my communications. I began to wonder just how deep and possibly irreparable the damage was that I had just done to my primary relationship.

I didn’t want to make a scene at the party. I continued to small-talk with a couple people. After two or three offers, I took Mrs. Said up on her suggestion that we leave. She got in the car and asked “Do you want to talk?” I have learned to keep my mouth closed when I am that mad. The potential for damage is too great. We didn’t speak a word on the 20 minute ride home. I slept in another room. Well, I tried to sleep. I was madder than I have ever been. I ended up leaving the house in the middle of the night and walking to an all night diner. Back home, I slept fitfully for a couple hours then left before anyone was awake to go for a drive. Fast. With loud music.

That was mildly therapeutic. All the while I was trying to figure out how I had contributed to this event. Why the fuck did I give her the sex kit? Why did I trust him? What actually happened?

God, what a horrible few days we’ve just had. What started out as excitement for a night where I was going to see this guy – whom I was beyond hot for – derailed so quickly and completely that I was astonished at both how it derailed, and the role I played in the derailment.

When Mr. Said and I finally talked, I tried to explain myself to some degree. But I have to admit that in the end, it came down to REALLY bad judgment on my part.

The red flags about Jack were raised early. His disrespecting boundaries with his swing-partner-turned-affair. His frequent, emotionally entwining communication with me. Mr. Said and I both went against that gnawing little feeling in our guts and instead gave Jack opportunities to explain these things away. With 20/20 hindsight I know we should have just walked away from the situation. But I allowed my hardcore physical attraction and strong desire to experience sexual fun with this guy to cloud what is typically otherwise pretty solid judgment.

I too spent the night not sleeping, heart racing, brain working overtime presenting the worst case scenario for what Mr. Said might say to me when he actually started speaking to me again.

He came home from his drive and again said nothing to me. He went straight to our bedroom, shut the door and went to sleep.

After another fitful couple hours of sleep, I felt less on the edge of doing or saying something incredibly damaging. Not quite ready to talk, but getting there.

By mid-day, I was calm enough to not say mean, nasty things I could never take back. I wanted her to hurt as much as I was hurting but I needed to mend things more than I needed to drag out her pain.

Hearing my wife ask if I wanted to divorce her over this incident showed me how seriously she took it. I don’t want a divorce – and won’t. But it has shaken my confidence in our communication. I thought we had clearly decided that there would be no hall pass activities. A silver lining is that we clarified that going forward there won’t be any hall passes for either of us! The symmetry of coupling with another couple is what brought us to swinging and it still feels most comfortable and rewarding.

This may be a rationalization necessary to preserve my sanity and marriage, but I am putting the lion’s share of responsibility for this awful episode on him. He was stone cold sober. He had been told we only play together. We never told him of our conversations to the contrary. He invited Mrs. Said upstairs to change – nothing more was hinted at, said or requested. He manipulated the situation to get her alone and took advantage of his opportunity. In my opinion, he is a big, juicy turd in the punch bowl of swinging.

After a long, tearful discussion with her describing what had happened, I knew I could forgive her this transgression. She forgave me for my unclear signal of giving her the sex kit to stow in their room.

As difficult as the concept had seemed mere hours before, we decided to have a reclamation love-making session the night after the incident. I knew it was risking bringing up unpleasant mental images I had stored from my imagination, but it turned out to be the right thing. It turns out that we are a much better fit than she and he. He is a much better physical specimen than I am (I lost my six-pack some years back) and her fantasies about him REALLY turned her on. I was the recipient of some hot sessions on days after their text-flirting, after all. Luckily for my sanity, he turned out to not be particularly talented or satisfying.

As I sit here just days after the incident, I have forgiven. I have been forgiven.

Following New Year’s Eve’s SNAFU, Mr. Said and I have spent hours talking through what transpired and the roles we each played leading up to it. One of the many things I am examining in the cold, hard light of the aftermath of my actions – and inactions in key moments – is that I MUST get a handle on the part of me that hates being perceived as the ‘bad guy’ who just pulled the rip cord on an exciting free-fall. But if we are going to be in this world, I absolutely need to be able to say “no” when necessary, even if I’m going to be perceived as a giant buzzkill in the process. What I know for certain is that I don’t ever want to get myself anywhere close to a situation like that again. A new rule (no one-on-one time with swing partners for either of us) makes sense in light of what happened.

We have been lucky to have met and played with a number of truly nice people in the lifestyle. He was not one of them. I refuse to let him poison this fun thing we share.

As I told Mrs. Said, if you ride enough roller coasters eventually you’re gonna throw up.

We are still shaken from this episode but agree with each other that swinging has brought us together and has provided great fun and new friends who have proven themselves to be respectful beyond any doubt. Swinging is not without risks. But even in the shadow of this botched episode we are comfortable with those risks. Most importantly, we have learned a few things through this difficult experience that we both think will greatly mitigate those risks going forward.

But as they say, if your primary relationship is not rock solid this stuff will tear it apart.


About Author

He Said and She Said (not their given names) are 40-somethings married for 20-something years living in a large Southern US city. Spurred into action by their landscaper's tales of consensual non-monogamy, they have enjoyed swinging - and blogging about it - since 2010.