We went... we came... Adult content ahead

Well, my introductions to, er, swinging, has begun.

We -- Jane and I -- to a party at a hotel over in Raleigh; party was sponsored by a group called North Carolina Life. NCL is a group of folks who swing -- in short, they trade partners. Jane used to go (before she me me); she convinced me to go (okay, she wore me down).

What an interesting evening... And I met some interesting people... Gwen who sucked me off while I was sitting in a room watching a couple go at it on a swing... many folks doing it on mattresses on the floor, as if the voyers hovering didn't exist... Sam and Anne who joined Jane and me in a dark room...

Okay, that was likely the high point of the evening. When Gwen had finished with me, Anne, sitting next to me on the couch in the low-lit room, asked if she "could touch it." Who am I to say no. She also got down on her knees in front of her husband Sam and started to slurp away. So later, wanting to spend some time in a dark room at the end of the hall, I headed off with Jane in tow; saw Anne and Sam and asked 'em if they wanted to join us. Get to the room & Jane and I start to go at it. They arrive a bit later; we end up trading partners on the king-sized bed.

It went for a long time, although not forever. I'm not as young as I used to be. Different. Never been with a woman before in any sort of group session. And, of course, always the beauty of newness. Anne was sweet & soft; there was something delicate about her.

Yeah, I know. You're thinking Jane is the one who was in the delicate way. Point taken. But Anne was new and fresh. A joy to kiss.

Later, on thinking about it, I realized that I have this problem. And that is that I could have fallen in. I can't, really, do sex for sex sake. When we talked -- and there was talk before and after -- I could see the goodness in Anne... and Sam, too, but I wasn't thinking of him in a physical way. But she, and they, are people with goodness and faults and joy and beauty and trouble within them. I found myself falling into old patterns of wanting to fall into that, to pull it together, to hold it in my arms.

On the drive home, Jane said something about how she was glad I didn't cuddle with Anne. Guess the room was dark first time, she missed my touches with Anne while Jane was getting a massage, and later -- back in their room -- she was too enraptured with Sam (my word, he could go forever) to see my snuggle with Anne. Jane also said that Sam was a better kisser than Anne (Anne has some unfulfilled fantasies she wanted to try... and she started in the dark room); I'm thinking I didn't kiss Sam, but thought that Anne was a better kisser than Jane. ((Oh, that'll go over well if she ever hear's that.))

Perhaps it's the whole newness thing... perhaps it was the minty gum... perhaps it was the lightness of her skin, the blue-gray sparkle of her eyes, the innocence (lost), the grip of her hands.

There's a part of me that wants to see them again. There's another part of me that doesn't. It was fun. But I could see myself wanting more, to be possessive, to grow feelings... in a way that nothing could come of it.