Our first date had gone well. We had met for dinner and I ended up following him home. We had already had the discussion about STI testing and agreed to no sex until we were both up to date on testing. So going to a place more private to talk seemed reasonable.
Talking led to playing. I told him that I should probably go. It had been more than a month since I had had sex and I was having trouble keeping in control. He smiled at me and told me that just because he couldn’t enter me, didn’t mean I couldn’t get release.
As I lay trembling on the bed, a towel full of my own juices under me, I heard myself plead “marry me.”
I have noticed that in post-coital bliss I do tend to be rather emotional, usually telling whomever I am with that I love them when I actually mean that I love how my body is feeling. “Marry me;” however, was a first. And since we were both married to others, an impossibility.
The next time we got together, I wondered if the first time was a simple fluke. Perhaps the situation of me not having had sex for so long and him manipulating my body into doing things it had rarely done before, namely squirt, would not be something that could be duplicated. It was no fluke, though I never again asked him to marry me.
We talked in great length about what made him such a magnificent lover. He said that it was because he was very good at reading me. He even had me mostly convinced that I would never find anyone that could make my body feel the way it did with him – at least I was convinced until another guy got me to squirt.
*I* think the reason that he was so good actually boiled down to the fact that he and his wife were swingers for many years.
Swingers, I have decided, are much better at sex. A fact I rather vocally announced during a party much to the amusement of others. I am not sure if the amusement was a compliment since we were all playing at the time or if it was a sense of pity for all the other men I have been with. Perhaps, it was a bit of both.
In a romantic relationship, one has the added bonus of new relationship energy (NRE). This excitement can temporarily distort perceptions and judgments, allowing for viewing the partner in a rosy light and for diminishing potential interpersonal problems. I can not count the number of times that I have heard from a friend (or in all honesty, have said myself) “Oh well the sex wasn't very good. But it was only the first time, it will get better.” In this situation, there are other aspects that will keep the couple seeing each other while they work to make the sex better. But this is not the case in a swinging situation. When there is only a limited about of time that people can spend, why waste it with someone who doesn't make you feel incredible? So swingers would have to be good at sex to be invited back.
But this doesn’t answer the question: Why are swingers so much better at fucking?
Perhaps it is because they are able to read nonverbal signs. They do not get a lot of time to learn what pleases a new partner.
Perhaps it is a matter of communication. The swingers that I have met are not hesitant to show and tell what they like, nor are they hesitant to ask what you would want.
Or perhaps it is simply a matter of practice. Swingers have sex, lots and lots of sex. Though the old adage, practice makes perfect is not quite right (as only perfect practice makes perfect), it still holds true that the more experienced one is, the better choice one is for the job.
Regardless as to the why, one thing is sure. I sure like swinging with them.