I Went To A Sex Club By Myself

They call us unicorns, because we are so rare. Women who go to sex clubs without a partner, looking to play. MILFs who go to sex clubs without a partner? I might have been a unicorn with wings. Lest you think I’m becoming a 7 on my Sex NumberTM scale, don’t worry; this urge was not compulsive, but medicinal. The truth is that many guys go on a sexual rampage after the breakup of a relationship (let alone two) and opt for a little sexual healing, and no one thinks twice. Either that or join the Marines, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t pass the Physical.

I’d been to this club before with my ex-boyfriend, so I felt safe going back by myself. It’s a fairly small club with a large variety of people, all races, ages, shapes and sizes, with good security and a screening process, so I was not worried about getting into trouble (except the kind I was there to get into.) I’d had a wonderful night there with my ex where we hadn’t played with anyone, but were really close (or so I thought.) I felt justified in returning to the scene of the crime, so to speak, for a bit of revenge fucking. Single women get in free at sex clubs for the same reason that if a unicorn showed up at a restaurant, they’d probably comp its dinner.

Keep in mind that I still have a broken big toe… oh maybe I didn’t mention that. Get ready: I broke my toe in the most Malibu way possible; I fell into my spa. In pitch dark, fully clothed, submerged under the cold water like someone with white people’s problems. The reason I was outside was to smoke, so I was trying to find a spot where the kids wouldn’t see me, they were inside. As I was looking back, distracted by the dogs and which kid was where, I stepped right into the water. (I consider the fact that I didn’t crack my head open and die to be both the good news and the bad news…)

It’s been a week and I’m no longer on crutches, and it doesn’t hurt to put on shoes… unless I want to walk. So there I was, showing up at the sexy sex club in my Ugg boots. The last time I was at this club, I was wearing 6-inch heels and towering over everybody except my boyfriend and the Trans ladies, who by the way were rocking that shit. So I was quite happy in my flats, not to mention comfortable, even before I glanced into the first playroom after the entrance and SAW SOMEONE I HAD ALREADY SLEPT WITH.

Here was the rub-we had had sex when he and his girlfriend had been on quite a long break, and now here he was inviting me in to their party while at the same time muttering, “We don’t know each other.” Anyone who knows me knows that I do not tangle with anyone who is involved in a relationship, unless their partner is right there telling me it’s okay. When I was with him before, he was most definitely single. I hated the mendacity, but his girlfriend was SO FUCKING HOT, that I was like, “Meh. It’s not exactly a lie, more like an omission.”

She was from an indeterminate Eastern European country with a really hot accent, but I didn’t even get a chance to ask her where, before I was taking off my clothes and sucking on her nipples. I really should do something about my shyness. Of course I felt a little more comfortable because I already knew the guy, but I also just felt comfortable because I really like pussy and there she was presenting her body like a smorgasbord. So much was on offer; the boobs, the neck, the mouth, the hair, and below the smooth oak cutting-board of her stomach, a perfectly groomed Eastern Bloc buffet.

I worked my way through all the courses and then down I dived (dove?)… and made her come. Twice. (I don’t use “cum,” prefer the regular spelling.) After she had finished moaning in Czech (or whatever it was) I raised my arms in victory, not only because I’m a goofball even when I’m having a threesome, but also because I understood yet again why men love licking pussy so much- when you make a girl come with your mouth you feel like a G-ddamn champ! And then…

You didn't think I'd give you all of it in one post, did ya?
You didn’t think I’d give you all of it in one post, did ya?

11 comments

  1. I frequent Swing Clubs fairly often and I do see a single lady from time to time. I wish you were her on the East Coast as I would love to run into you in that setting. Even if I just got to watch you. Your writing enchants me.
    Thank you

    • That’s a lovely way of putting it, thank you! And if I’m ever on the East coast I will certainly look to you for venue advice. Unless you’re in Maine. I probably won’t be going to Maine. Or Rhode Island. Do they have sex in Rhode Island?

  2. […] Five years ago I began a sexual awakening at the age of 35, just as my then 50-year-old husband was descending into a series of comforting naps. Now that I am almost divorced, with almost two years of sexual exploration under my belt (ha!) I have to report my disturbing finding that sex is not enough. Not to discourage any woman from doing her own research, but in my experience sex does not cure insecurity, sadness or shame. It does not compensate for your childhood, nor your divorce, nor even help you get dinner on the table. Sex turns out to be a placebo for the real cure that does not involve a bottle, or a jar, or a meal, or any other person (or, in my case, people.) […]

  3. […] It was more Dionysian than decadent, more sensuous than lustful, a different vibe to a regular sex club. I watched the outlined shapes in various stages of pleasuring and being pleasured, before it became […]

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