A Wet Monday Afternoon in a Swingers’ Club


In a previous Wicked Wednesday post, I wrote about being the only female among a group of naked men. The purpose of that post was to talk about weight and how those men did not seem concerned about the fact they were overweight and naked, whereas I was self-conscious about doing the same. I did not mention the reason for my nakedness.

S (my lover) and I had discussed visiting a swinging club a number of times and, back on a very wet Monday afternoon in June, we decided to visit a club in Manchester. We chose to go on a Monday afternoon as we knew it was likely to be quiet. We were going out of curiosity and also because we knew the club would provide the opportunity to get some time together privately. I made it clear before we went that I did not want unknown men touching me.

This was not my first visit to a swinging club; I visited a club earlier this year during my first meeting with a Twitter friend. That visit was for social reasons and for the experience of visiting a club; I did not go with the expectation of more.

I was very apprehensive, but also excited, as we parked in a dingy side street near the club. Manchester’s weather lived up to its reputation on that day and the rain was torrential making the drab, urban surroundings appear even more gloomy.

I felt very self-conscious as we stood outside the entrance and I wondered if passers-by would be casting judgement on us. S pressed the buzzer on the front door and we waited for a few seconds before we were given access to the entrance lobby. A face appeared at a small hatch opposite the door.We gave our names and were let through the inner door into the club; it all felt a bit cloak and dagger as if we were visiting somewhere illicit.

We paid our entrance fee to the guy who had admitted us; he was very friendly and told us about the facilities and the rules pertaining to single guys, and then gave us each a towel. It was a ‘dress-down’ club – no covering apart from a towel to protect your modesty. Very different to my previous experience where the club was fully-clothed. We changed in the couples’ changing room, wrapped our towels around us and ventured out into the unknown to see what went on on in a swingers’ club on a wet Monday afternoon in Manchester.

The thing that struck me as soon as I entered the club was how dimly lit it was. My eyesight isn’t brilliant, so my vision takes a while to adjust to very dim lighting. I guess that the low level of lighting is meant to add to the ambiance of the place.  I also noticed that there was a a damp, musty smell throughout the club. Perhaps inevitable given that that the building was very old, plus the rain was on par with a monsoon that day and the temperature of the jacuzzi was incredibly hot creating a lot of humidity.

Our travels around the building revealed a couple of private rooms, a number of public rooms with screens all showing the same porn clips concurrently, a sauna, hot tub and some areas for general relaxation. The place was very quiet, as we’d hoped and expected. There was a notable absence of females, apart from me. There had been another couple there, who had left just after we’d arrived. I noticed approximately eight men dotted around the building – all hanging around hoping for some Monday afternoon action. All waiting for a female to appear…

The last room we went to look at was located on the top floor of the building. There were a few steps up to the doorway and looking up, to my left, I  could see two sets of large feet, side by side. To the right, a screen was showing the now all-familiar porn. I decided that it would be too intrusive to go any further. S climbed the few steps and looked in. He came back down and said that there were two guys in there playing with their cocks, side by side, avidly watching the porn. My thoughts were that they wouldn’t have welcomed me bursting in on them. S grinned and replied that they probably would have been delighted for me to have appeared round the corner…

We took ourselves off to one of the private rooms – one with a lock, where we spent a pleasurable hour. However, due to the general dampness everywhere, the room was very humid and airless.  The bed (and several other surfaces in the club) was covered in red vinyl and the friction of my head on the vinyl combined with the humidity created my first-ever case of ‘bed hair’. The smell of of the warm vinyl bought back a childhood memory of the smell of the red vinyl seats in my dad’s Triumph 2000 car in hot weather. An unfortunately-timed flashback.

After an hour,  we were far too hot and had had enough of the airless room. It was time to try the hot tub. However, it was occupied by two guys and although there was room for us, it would have been very cosy and I lost my nerve about removing my towel. We decided to get a drink  and went to sit in one of the public rooms. There was one guy in there watching the porn that was showing. We all sat in silence just looking at the screen. The clips that were showing were awful. Not realistic and certainly not sexy, to me anyway. I asked S if he found it a turn-on, which he didn’t. We continued to stare at the screen, and I collapsed into hysterical laughter at what was developing on screen. The sound was muted too, which made it even more hideous. The lone guy in the room was highly amused by my reaction and admitted that what was showing was not sexy at all.

When we returned to the hot tub, there was one guy in there. I decided to be brave and drop my towel. I climbed in, as elegantly as I could, stumbled and nearly fell on top of him, apologising profusely. We made small talk between the tree of us. I was enjoying the sensations of he hot, bubbling water around me and the feeling of the jets massaging my back. I noticed a light tickling on my ankle. A gentle water jet I thought. It stopped then started again a minute or so later. The jet started to creep up my leg… It obviously wasn’t the jet, but my hot tub friend (as he has now been christened) gently feeling my leg. I didn’t quite know where to look or what to do and started to feel awkward. I hadn’t expected this, as one of the rules of the  club is that men do not touch women without consent; I naively expected that all men would comply with this.  He stopped and asked if I minded him feeling my leg. Not knowing what else to say, and feeling flustered, I foolishly said it was OK as long as his hand didn’t go any further.  Immediately, his hand crept up to the back of my thigh. I did object this time and he responded by asking if he could feel my boobs. I made my feelings on this very clear and S  promptly decided that it was time to for us to get out of the hot tub. I turned around to climb out and, when faced with my bum,my hot tub friend became even more obvious in his attentions. I think he was just trying to grab an opportunity rather than being a danger, but he should not have pushed his luck. And I should have been more assertive and said no straightaway.

We decided to go back downstairs and sat in one of the public rooms, where we saw a guy we had passed the time of day with earlier. There was also another guy there, idly fiddling with his cock. who asked me if I would like him to cover up with his towel. I I thought was very respectful of him and said there was no need.  Both guys were very pleasant and friendly and we were able to have an enjoyable conversation with them. My hot tub friend subsequently appeared – evidently not fazed by my rejection of his advances – the three of them were clearly regulars at the club and knew each other well.  After a while, they subtly suggested that S and I  should ‘make ourselves comfortable’ in their presence. However, I definitely did not  want to do anything publicly and certainly not with my hot tub friend present, who obviously wanted to get his hands on me. We decided to call it a day, said our goodbyes and went to get dressed.

It was an interesting introduction to swinging clubs and as a result I have become much  more aware of the power of a female in this type of situation. And more aware of the need to be more assertive and say no. I sensed a very primal atmosphere akin to the animal kingdom, with males prowling looking for females. I never went with the intention, or had the desire, of having any sexual contact with other men, but it was obvious it would have been easy to have them doing exactly as I wanted. That in itself is an empowering thought.  But not for this occasion, though…

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Waterglide Strawberry Lube


I recently had the pleasure of doing my first sex product review, which was Waterglide Strawberry lube for the Cara Sutra Pleasure Panel.

Here’s an extract

I applied the Waterglide Strawberry Flavoured Lube to my partner’s penis for the taste test. As the Waterglide Strawberry Flavoured Lube is so dense I had to spread it around with my hand initially before reaching in with my tongue….

Read the complete review here

cara sutra best uk sex blog


My Special Friend


This prompt is another suggestion of the lovely Charlie Powell of Sex Blog of Sorts: Friend.

Do you have a special friend? One, more? How did you become friends? How do you classify friendship? Did you have friendships that ended? Why? How did the end of the friendship affect you? Or maybe you have a friend with benefits? Tell us more about that?

I have made no secret, here on this blog, of my search for a ‘friend with benefits’. The background to  this can be found here.

Earlier this year, I met a very lovely man, who is in a similar position to me. We met onlne, as is the norm these days. I had actually rejected his advances for a few months, but his persistence in pursuing me eventually paid off and I agreed to meet him for a coffee.  We subsequently agreed to meet again a few days later at a hotel.

I was incredibly nervous at that second meeting and he attempted to relax me with a sensuous tantric massage. It worked and I eventually started to loosen up enjoy the feel of his hands on my body. I  gave him a blowjob. And from that day things have gone from strength to strength. We usually meet at a hotel once a week but also enjoy each others’ company beyond the bedroom.  We meet for coffee, go for lunch, go away overnight occasionally, speak by phone when we can and exchange several messages each day. Plus other misadventures… We also help each other in our respective work lives as our skills complement each other.

He is very affectionate and tactile, which is very important to me as I love cuddling, fondling and kissing.He loves my boobs and can’t get enough of them. We have similar interests and I have learned a lot about tantric sex and how to give a slow and sensuous lingam massage. Early on in our relationship, we talked about unfulfilled fantasies and sexual experiences, and was very encouraging in this respect. He is keen to watch me with other people and to see the effects of one of my lingam massages…  This us not a request for volunteers…

I  didn’t expect that a friendship of this type could be as loving and caring. I have never felt uncomfortable in his presence and generally feel I can talk to him about most things. He definitely knows more about me than anyone else. I don’t think the terms ‘friend with benefits’ or ‘fuckbuddy’ are really appropriate to describe our relationship. I think the term ‘lover’ is a more accurate description.  It’s not perfect; there is the occasional thing that frustrates me about our arrangement.  And the nature of it means that what  we would like to do  doesn’t always go ahead. But, on balalance, things are pretty good. He knows that I won’t tolerate any bullshit or being messed around. He frequently tells me he feels lucky to have me, and my reply is always to agree that he is very lucky indeed!

He does make me happy and I feel blessed to have him in my life.

See who else is particpating in Wicked Wednesday here

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Hair – Kink of the Week



Kink of the Week September 1-15: Hair

We have done pubic hair so I thought maybe we should also talk about the hair on our heads. For future reference we will also do other body hair.

Long hair, short hair, bald heads, curly, straight, wavy, blonde, red, black, brown, dyed, bangs (fringe for the UK’ers) tied up, let loose. I could go on and on with words that describe hair but you get the picture. Our hair is as varied and different as we are and it rarely stays the same throughout our lives. How we have our hair changes with time, mood, fashions, health and sometimes even wealth. Just as how we style our hair can change, so can how we feel about it.

Is hair in any way shape or form a kink for you? Could be your own or your partners? Maybe you have a thing for really long hair, is gender specific or is your love of hair more important than someones genitals? Do you have a kink for your own hair? Perhaps you have a specific style that you do to portray a certain personality or role, such a fierce tight bun to make you look like a school mistress, or girly pigtails when you are feeling ‘little’. We have already done pigtails as a kink of their own but if that is your thing feel free to cover it for this topic.

Do you love having your hair touched? Is there something so sensual about a lover running their fingers through your hair that just does it for you? Or maybe you like things a bit rough. What about hair pulling? Fuck yes or hell no? Of course maybe you are the hair puller? What is it about grabbing a handful of locks and using it to control them that presses your buttons?


I saw a few posts about the latest KOTW subject of hair on my Twitter timeline and I initially dismissed writing a contribution. But, today, I remembered that there are a couple of things about hair that get me going… I love to run my hand the wrong way over freshly-shaven/cropped male hair. It has to be a new cut though. A day or two of growth doesn’t give quite the same feeling. I start with my hand at the nape of his neck and very gently skim my hand up the back of his head just gently catching the hair on the palm of my hand until I reach the crown. If the top has also been cut as short, I do the same starting from the front of the head.  The velvety spikiness sends tingles through me and I definitely get a kick out of it – if only for a day or two. I also find the whole close-shaven look on men very sexy. It can make the nicest man look quite menacing, but I find that very appealing.

I find grey hair on a man very alluring. And I don’t mean I’m into octogenarians. Grey hair looks so distinguished and suave and, for me, there’s always a bit of cheeky charm associated with it.  So guys, forget the Grecian 2000! Grow grey gracefully; you never know who is lusting after you!

My own hair is one of the features of my body that I am very happy with. It is naturally very straight and thick. My hair tends to be the first thing that people notice about me and I receive many compliments.   When I was much younger. I wanted all manner of wayout styles – all of which were impossible to achieve as any attempt to curl my hair would last about a minute before it pinged back to being poker-straight.  Nowadays, I feel very blessed to have such thick, straight hair and am acutely aware that many people spend ages each morning trying to straighten their hair! I wear my hair in a bob, which is a style that suits the shape of my face and I am lucky in that I don’t have to blow-dry it into shape. I can just wash it and leave it to dry naturally and it will fall into style. I can honestly say that bed-hair is not something I have experienced and in the morning my hair generally looks the same as when I went to bed.  I also love the colour of my hair, which is naturally black, although it needs a bit of assistance with that these days…


See who else has a kink for hair