Confessions of a Swinger

Chapter 8 - Keys in a Bowl

The only time we went to a key swapping party was in the dead of winter and it had been some time since the incident at the man’s house in the woods. We had been talking about it all that week and emailing each other, when we were supposed to be working. I had no idea what to expect and neither did he but we decided to make a day of it and go shopping in the city before heading out to the party.

I had booked to have my hair blow dried and have my nails done in the afternoon so we spent the morning shopping for sexy lingerie. I enjoyed trying on different outfits for my husband and we picked a nice one together. We settled on a zebra print bra and pants set with little pink bows and pink stitching. Later that day I had my nails painted pink to match and I bought new pink, open toed stilettos which also contained a pink flower on top.

I also purchased some hold-ups because I had laddered my tights and we were going straight to the party. It was a casual dress affair and my husband went in a new shirt he bought that day and the jeans he had on already.

I was wearing a black, high-waist pencil skirt along with a white blouse, unbuttoned to show off my bra (although you could clearly see the zebra print through it). I bought a pink, plastic, pearl necklace with large balls at the front which drew further attention to my cleavage and that was me. I never did the casual look outside of my house and to me, a skirt and shirt was dress down enough for a party.

When we arrived we were greeted at the door along with the other guests. The women were all given a badge with a number on it to wear. I was appalled at the thought of putting a large yellow badge onto my colour co-ordinated outfit so I held it in my hand. The men were ushered to a large cut-glass bowl in the hall which sat next to the telephone, on a pine sideboard and told to put their car keys inside before making their way to the living room.

It could have been anyone’s sitting room, in anyone’s house, in any suburban street. The walls were painted a cream and the sofas were nice dark brown leather. There were pictures on the mantelpiece of kids in school uniforms and crisps and dips were laid out for us on the coffee table.

My husband and I sat together, squeezed into a chair rather than joining others on the sofas. We were handed wine without being given the choice of red or white. I hated red wine then and still do so I just held it in my hand and smiled.

Looking around at the other couples I saw the usual wrinklies but interspersed between them were some middle-aged and even younger ones. One young man caught my eye and then my attention when he spoke. I didn’t recognise his accent at first but I now know he was from South Africa. He had a mop of blonde hair and his wife too was blonde, although she looked older.

He appealed to me, more so than all the rest and I hoped I would end up with him. I wished we had been given a choice because I knew when he looked over, that he would’ve picked me.

Then the bowl came in carried by what I believed to be the organiser, a man in his late fifties with hair combed over from the side to hide his obvious baldness.

Inside the bowl where the men’s keys but each had a large plastic tag attached which corresponded to the numbers on the women’s badges. My husband was asked to pick first and his number coincided with a red-head sitting across from him. She rose when he called out the number and he followed her out of the room.

I became more and more nervous as the charade continued until there were only four of us left in the room and thankfully my blonde antipodean was still there, but he was last to pick.

Before him was a small dumpy man who was overweight and seemed to be sweating at just having to walk over to the bowl. He reached inside and I willed him to pick the other set. My heart pounded in my chest as I prayed he wouldn’t pick my husbands keys. I knew the set and I watched his hand hover as it tried to choose. He reached it and touched the Audi sign on my husband’s fob. I gulped but he then seemed to move it aside. That’s it! I thought, he’s going for the other but then as my shoulders tensed in excitement he changed his mind and lifted my husband’s keys. He might have been trying to read the numbers but my badge was face down in the palm of my hand and I had held it tight so no-one could see.

He read out the number and I had no choice but to turn the badge to him. Then, however, as he walked toward me, he gallantly held out his hand to help me up from my seat. I carefully placed my untouched wine on the table before lifting my hand into his. It was clammy, sweaty and cold but he gripped me tight and led me away, away from the man I wanted to bed.

He led me back into the hall and then up the stairs. The badge and key numbers also corresponded to different rooms and thankfully ours was a bed room. My husband was not so lucky and ended up in a sitting room with his red-head. He did not enjoy his time with her and ended up having sex, sitting down, with her on his lap but with her back to him. There was no kissing and it had taken him ages to get an erection because he didn’t fancy her and she had bitten fingernails, which was and still is, a major turn off for him. As a rule we didn’t tell each other about our encounters but on that one occasion he told me afterward and we chuckled about his unfortunate evening.

I, on the other hand, had an altogether different experience. When we reached our allocated room we sat next to one another on the bed and he began by complimenting me on what I was wearing. He was saying all the right things as he lifted his hand and then took my necklace in his fingers. He asked me about it and I told him it was only £5.99 but he seemed pleased with the effort I had made to dress and accessorise. He continued complimenting me and talking about my body as his fingers let go of my necklace and began to unbutton my blouse. I was filled with pride at his words and I guess turned on by them. He began to tell me how he had prayed that he would pick me and had been anxious as each man before him chose their keys. I didn’t want to tell him that I was praying for the opposite so I kept quiet and let him carry on.

He gently removed my blouse and then kissed me. His hand touched my face as we kissed and then my neck, then shoulder, until it slid all the way down my arm, taking my hand once again in his at the bottom.

We sat there for a short while like that as he held my hand and we kissed before I pulled back and said, ‘Do you want me to take my bra off?’ ‘Oh no’, he said shaking his head, ‘I like it’ and then his kissing became more passionate.

He was an amazing kisser, soft, gentle and very sensual and I could’ve kissed him like that for ages as he continued to stroke my arm, shoulders, neck and face. Eventually he stopped and asked me to remove my skirt but to leave my stockings and shoes on. He was such a gentleman and the way he asked I could do nothing but say yes. I did as he obliged and then I lay on the bed and watched as he de-robed.

I can only describe him as an ugly man with an ugly body. Nothing was as it should be. He had no hair on his head but an abundance of it between his legs. His penis was tiny, the smallest I had ever seen and his belly sat out in front of him, as if he was carrying a flesh coloured beach ball around with him. His arms were short and he had stubby, fat fingers. Above the beach-ball sat a pair of man boobs that would rival any you would see in a newspaper. His face too was round and he had no hair on his head apart from his eyebrows. He was nothing like the men I had been dreaming about all week as I sat in work waiting for the weekend.

We lay beside one another, him naked and me with my underwear on, including my hold-ups and shoes! It was, however, a very special time we shared together on that bed, as we kissed and stroked each others bodies. His kissing got even better and his compliments kept flowing making me feel nicer and more proud than ever before. I loved it, that time we were sharing and it made me want him. It made me see past his looks and flab and into his soul which was perfectly formed.


I took his tiny penis in my hand and his hands found their way inside my pants. He stopped kissing my lips as he moved his head down, kissing my neck then all the way down to my stomach. He kissed my pants and then removed them, carefully slipping them off past my shoes. He came back to me kissing my legs and feeling the stockings in his hands before returning to his position beside me. I left my bra on but removed my pearls as they were digging into my neck.

He told me he loved watching my hand with its pink fingernails feeling him and we lay there while I stoked him and he watched. I was filled with a serene peace as we lay there aside one another touching and feeling each others bodies. He then slowly moved his hand down until it was between my legs. I lay still as he fingered me and rubbed me, stopping occasionally to kiss me and to watch my hands on him. His fingers then found the top of my clitoris and rubbed hard sending pleasure throughout my soul. I couldn’t hold back and I wanted him in me.

I tried pulling him onto me but he shoved his leg between mine sliding it up between my legs until it met his hand and shoved it harder into that spot on my clit. That was it; I had to have him there and then so I just said it, ‘Fuck me’. His leg slid again banging his hand once more against me and he shoved his thumb inside. ‘Fuck me, please!’ He smiled and climbed on top before resting his penis on that very spot, teasing me as he held himself up with his arms.

I never wanted sex as much as I did right then. I looked into his eyes, ‘Fuck me’ I bit my bottom lip as I felt him throb against me. He reached down with his right hand taking his weight on his left and took hold of his tiny shaft. I was sure he was going to guide it in slowly but instead he slid his knob up and down, parting my lips which were now salivating with moisture. My back arched as his tip reached mine and once again he rubbed that spot! I pushed my pelvis up towards him, ‘Please’ I said, ‘I want you inside me’ but before I finished he was inside and my body fell back taking his heavy weight and feeling his tiny penis as it sent an electric shock through my body before he pulled out.

I was taken aback but I knew by his facial expression he would return. Sure enough another shock entered me, followed by yet another bolt then once again he was out. He was not blessed by size, or looks, nor was he fit but this man was a demon in bed, possessed by the sexiest, most romantic and somewhat dangerous devil of all. One who could direct a lightening bolt from the sky and into a woman’s body then again, WOW, another bolt, this time sending shock waves in tiny ripples all over my skin. Then it settled as he writhed about inside and I lay there, hands above my head taking it all in.

Suddenly, out of the blue and whilst inside he started talking, ‘I wanted you so bad’. ‘You are amazing; I wanna touch you again, everywhere’. His words were like the opposite of his demonic side as if they came from heaven itself. I couldn’t help but smile as my body joined his in a gentle rhythm and he lay beside me, touching me but still inside me. He felt the underside of my arms and it tickled, he felt my hands and it was sensual. He slid his fingertips all over my body and I loved it.

His heavenly touch was simply divine and he continued to deliver the compliments, in between sweet tender kisses, like an angel, as he said and did everything right.

‘Can I see your nipples?’ he eventually said and without a word in reply I pulled down my bra on one side to expose my breast to him. He leaned over and kissed my nipple. He didn’t suck it but flicked his tongue back and forth across it and the wild passion that began our session slowly made its return.

He was still inside me when his fingers slid down past my belly button and settled once again on that spot. It drove me wild as he rubbed at it, bucked into me and flicked my nipple with his tongue.

He then kissed me and for the first time our kissing became snogging and then frantic licking as he rubbed me harder down below. Then in a flash the angel shot back to heaven and the demonic possession once again took hold. He pulled out and moved me onto my front and then slid in from behind.

He bucked into me from behind sending another bolt in, then another, followed by another, building up speed and power. I lifted my bum upwards towards him and to get his tiny penis in deeper and then without warning, SLAP!

His hand smacked my backside. Then again, SLAP! The bolts kept shooting into me with a force that pushed my face deep into the pillow. I was screaming in ecstasy as each bolt struck, my sound muffled by the pillow but the slaps sent my body intro convulsions and my mind racing. My screaming became louder and then more controlled until I began shouting, ‘Oh Yeah’, then a pause, then, ‘Oh Yeah’ then I continued, ‘Oh yeah’, ‘Oh Yeah’, ‘Oh Yeah’, ‘Oh Yeah’ and I couldn’t stop.

I lifted my head to get air in and the sound out. My shouting became much louder and faster, ‘Oh Yea, Oh Yea, Oh Yea, Oh Yea, OH YEA!’ until I was consumed by a magnificent orgasm.

It was then as if his demon was transferred into my body and I turned on him throwing him down and jumping on top. I bounced up and down on him and pulled my bra down completely before grabbing his hands and holding them tight against my boobs. I squeezed his hands making him feel and grope me, holding his hands tightly in mine, until we came together and I collapsed in a heap beside him.

Perhaps that demon is still inside me? I don’t know but I did learn one valuable lesson that night, never judge a book by its cover.

To read the rest of my book click the link below..
http://www.amazon.co.uk/My-Story-Confessions-Nicci-Greene/dp/1449038425

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