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It was early in our dating, Karen and I had read several articles about the ‘new’ swinging lifestyle that was becoming so popular in New York City: several new clubs had recently opened, and with some research, we found that right here in our village was a very large and famous club called ‘Michael’s Lounge.’
Our first trip out was a bit of sensory overload: the entire club was filled with happy, fun loving couples, dancing, drinking, socializing and just plain making out on the dance floor. At 1AM sharp, the lights went down and red lights were turned on, illuminating the dance floor with an erotic glow. The ladies, most of whom were dressed like any other club goers, filed off into the ladies room in packs, emerging wearing little or nothing. A thong panty and heels, a string bikini and boots, or just shoes and a smile were the outfits of choice.
Not to be outdone, Karen smiled at me and filed off to do her part. As she returned, her tight body was accented by the glimmering, wet-look black, tie side bikini and the six-inch platform heels she was wearing. Onto the dance floor we went, spending most of the evening, dancing, touching and thrilling each other with our lustful expressions and whispered comments. The thrill of having my lady erotically portrayed for all to see and appreciate was such a tremendous thrill for me.
This routine repeated for several weeks, each night culminating in a wild love making sessions when we returned home. On more than one evening, her top mysteriously disappeared as she danced, leaving her naked breasts pressed against my chest, and proudly displayed for everyone in the club to enjoy.
A few weeks later, we were approached by a very attractive couple that were just about our ages, possibly a bit younger. Frank and Wendy were their names. They sat down at our table and began chatting us up. Frank owned a motorcycle shop that repaired British bikes only, BSA, Norton, and Triumph. Wendy, like Karen, was a teacher, so we all had lots in common to talk about. Our friendship continued to grow as we saw them for several weeks.
We had reached the point that we were dancing with each other’s ladies, grinding our bodies together on the dance floor and making out as we danced slow dances.
One week, while dancing with each other’s lady, Karen came over to me and said that Frank had invited us back to their home for a drink and to get more acquainted. She said that she wanted to go, and asked if I was willing.
‘Sure,’ I said, ‘Why not?’
We gathered our belongings and clothes and met then at the club’s lobby.
Frank suggested that Wendy ride back with me, in my car, so I wouldn’t get lost, and that Karen come with him.
Yvette
- 24.07.2022
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