The subject of male bisexuality was troublesome for me because all my non-swing set (and somewhat outdated) information on swinging listed male bisexuality as a no-no. There was a bisexual night at the club very soon around the time my love and I attended for the first time, but I was fairly sure I didn’t want that to be my first swinging experience, a little too spicy for the initial taste perhaps. Ok, I will admit it, I was afraid I would be blacklisted by other swingers. I didn’t want to do anything that might prevent or hinder my acceptance in this new world. I also didn’t want to narrow the list of people who would find me acceptable. There was still the voice in my head telling me I was lucky to find ANYONE who would want to play with me, and it took hours of podcasts with several other reasonable voices to quiet it a little. But bisexual night appeared on the calendar about four months after I began this journey, and I set my reservation with only a few reservations.
Now for some disclosure, my first sexual experience was as a young adolescent with another young man (younger than me) who lived in the neighborhood I grew up in. We explored sex and sexuality together for a few years and in truth we loved each other. It ended when I came to believe I could not continue acting that way. I discovered girls and put that part of me away for the next thirty years. I felt I had grown out of it, like a phase, like glam metal, or parachute pants. (I know I am dating myself here, so sue me.) I honestly feel a certain amount of guilt, more about the bad way I ended it rather than any acts we performed together, and my mind is not always a pleasant or accepting place. Before swinging I had begun to revisit bisexuality as a turn on. Over the last few years I had started reading stories and looking at pictures of bisexual behavior and I wondered if I could possibly do that again. By accepting non-monogamy I had begun to redefine the ways I would let myself behave, and what acts I could perform and still find acceptable, or even hot.
I was a little worried about my own psychological ghosts and digging up some emotions or memories that might have more comfortably remain buried, so I called in a wingman, let’s call her Ropes. Ropes and I are friends, we haven’t played together, but we help each other out. She is a professional domme and I am her “Ken Doll” for trying new knots and rigging (usually nude). My love knows about this, and has granted permission for play and our practice sessions. This goes a little beyond the original rules we set, which was activities at the club but nowhere else. The relationship with Ropes is a little complex, but she is a perfect guest at the club, because I know she can take care of herself and help me if I need support. I was genuinely unsure if I could handle this, and I wanted someone to drive and definitely to talk to on the long trip home, regardless of what happened. She told me she would be whatever I needed for the night, not to worry about her, just go and have fun.
We arrived at the club early and I struck up a conversation with not one, but two interesting couples, one much younger than me, one older. It seems we talked about everything, and I remembered Cooper’s advice (from the confidence podcast I think) about talking with people is like Schrodinger’s cat, you can’t know if they will play with you unless you talk to them, but they are almost certain not to play if you don’t. It seemed like all the listening I had done and the hours of advice I had taken in had finally started to show results. Younger male then asked me if I was interested in guys and how far. I told him I was here to push boundaries, but I hadn’t done this in about thirty years. I would let him know when those boundaries were reached. He asked if I would play with him in the back room. “Ok…” I said, while thinking “I guess we will see where this takes us.” I wasn’t really afraid, a little excited, it’s always nice to hear yes, a little nervous, my emotional state was so far reading consistently with my previous club experiences. We stopped at the open doorway, fully visible to the other members. Are you ready for the deep water Salmon? Cause you are surely there now.
We started to kiss slowly. I had never kissed a grown man before, never felt stubble on the other person when kissing. It wasn’t terrible. A small crowd started to gather just outside the door, looking on. I tried to be gentle and paced myself not to go too fast, but my new lover had other ideas. He stripped me in seconds and went down on me. I looked at the others gathered and once again, was lost in wonderland. How did I get here of all places? I am standing naked before a group of strangers, with my cock in another man’s mouth! What’s more, in a few minutes it will be my turn, and I haven’t done anything like this in a long, long time. I am ready for the deep water…I think.
He stood, and I unbuckled his belt, and stripped him this time. I wrapped my hand around his cock, and with a moment’s hesitation lowered myself down and started sucking him. He was rock hard, but my technique didn’t seem too amateurish. (I remembered to watch the teeth) I could feel a gag reflex mounting when I tried to go too deep, but held it at bay while my mind once again rocketed to deep space. I can’t believe I am doing this! It is both easier and harder than I remembered, the physics seemed more difficult, but the guilt and anxiety dropped away. I am truly doing now what I want to be doing and the evening is just getting started. But after what must have been only a few minutes of swapping between tongue and cheek I started to taste a touch of precum. Not terrible technique for a thirty years hiatus. His girlfriend joined us and stripped, all the time telling us about how hot the scene was. She was totally into watching her man with another man. She and I traded his cock for a while, and then we moved to the bed for my first threeway. She was fine with oral but did not wish to be penetrated, and I was clear now that the limits were set.She asked where Ropes was and in truth I lost her when she left for a smoke, just before the action started. I told them Ropes would join us if she really wanted to. The three of us played for what must have been an hour, my own erection rising and falling organically, naturally, like the tides. In the excitement I was asked if I wanted to do double-penetration (by the boyfriend.) As it was the woman who set the limits earlier, I wanted to make absolutely sure this was ok (you see, I can be taught) and although she did agree, both males were starting to tire. I really wanted a drink of water (this hedonism thing is hard work!) so we dressed and headed for the bar, my evening already a success.
Continued in Part II
2 Comments
“glam metal and parachute pants.”
Nailed it.