Going Solo: Part 1

In one of my previous posts, I wrote about how my love accompanied me to my first night at the club. We arrived much too early for any playtime and left before the action really got started. The following weekend would be my first time swinging solo. Full disclosure: we technically joined the club as a couple, but either one of us can attend singly; we just pay the single price (which for some reason is much more expensive for a single male than a single female, go figure!) The hitch is my club “gender balances” the evenings so single males, I am told, don’t get confirmed till the day of the event and sometimes not even then. The exception is “Insatiable, the Multiple Male Experience” where single guys are encouraged to attend and the ladies are encouraged to wear as many out as many of them as possible. I think I can hear the “Eww!” out there already, but this seemed to me like the best way to get started. I would be granted admission as a single, and then… what was step two? Well I would make the rest up as I went along. What could possibly go wrong?

Well for starters there was the first ever shaving of the balls. This went a little more smoothly than I expected (oooh I made a funny.) I am fortunate my skin didn’t give me too many bumps from a razor it had never felt before. Guys, the only advice I can give here is use a beard trimmer or scissors for the heavy work and a very sharp blade for the fine work. A Norelco electric razor is out of the question. I am sure I will get no sympathy here from the ladies, more like a welcome to our world! Yes, I will admit to the double standard of having loved a clean shaved smooth vulva while I went around parading with (As Archer would call it) my unkempt bush. If nothing else I am beginning to appreciate the level of continual care women need to maintain to try and meet our expectations, or maybe desires. Well now that I longer looked like my old self, I tried to clean the rest of me up as much as I reasonably could. I don’t spend a lot of time in front of mirrors, maybe because I do not always like the image that looks back. I rigorously bathed and finished by adding a touch of cologne (I hardly ever wear the stuff in my other life, maybe I should?) I dressed in a simple but nice button down shirt, black pants and my second best shoes. Maybe not dashing, but I thought I polished up pretty good. My love thought I looked great and she wished me luck. I deliberately did not bring any alcohol. I was going to be a fair way from home, and I don’t drink and drive. I thought if I brought one, the temptation to get more would overwhelm me and I was trying to do this right. I brought breath mints, Cialis and condoms.

I remember best sitting in the car parked outside the club, pausing for more than a moment. What the hell am I doing? I have been married to my love for more than 20 years, never strayed, never seriously took advantage of several opportunities for cheating. Straight laced, loving, dedicated, monogamous me. My marriage worn sometimes like a badge of pride, that I could make my marriage work while many of my friends and family’s ended in divorce. I would be an adulterer, by legal and moral definitions. I could no longer say “I did not have sex with that woman.” (It really needs the Arkansas drawl.)  Now, mind you I haven’t spoken to, haven’t had sex with anybody yet, and haven’t even gotten through the door! (I like to make these little problems for myself; sometimes I can even find solutions.)

I crossed the threshold, and bravely announced to the very attractive young woman at the admission door, who I was… first and last name. (noob.)

She was very kind. She explained the club was first name only. And did I have my membership card?  Err… my card…my card… I don’t think they gave me one last time. I had suddenly become Tom Cruise in Eyes Wide Shut, “The password for the house???” I think in that moment I personified every hopeless vanilla looking in, desperately trying swim through currents I barely understood. The young woman looked me up on the computer, gave me my card and sent me through. I was now prepared for anything…