The Misanthropic Swinger

Hello darlings.

Vice here....I feel moved to ruminate on a few things. God willing my thoughts will stay with me. SO many things....FIRST--a nod to Ruby for yet another unforGETTable evening with her and Bent. *sigh*

If you read this post, you'll get a small...flavor about what I speak. 

Now. Remember when.....this post occurred? I begin to discuss the options of adding a third into our dyad. Never in my wildest, wettest dreams did I think the third would be a woman, or a woman as wonderful as Ruby.  Our foray into the world of open, authentic sexuality has led us into many interesting situations. We tread lightly. We dipped our toes in. We dove in, head first. We have been, as they say, around the block. We...are hard-core.

Not in the sense that we have an open relationship or we fully swap partners. No. We are not hard-core in that sense. But we are no longer lambs among wolves, wide-eyed children among more adventurous and knowledgeable beings. We are now the wizened, the cynical, the knowing, the...misanthropic? Yes. 

One thing Bent and I share is the disdain for the masses, the group-think, the sheep. We rebel against it, both, because I suspect we were both expected at a young age to assimilate into this type of tribe. But by our very natures, we resisted. We saw what groups can do, how utterly flawed they are. We both saw and see that the very foundation of being a part of a group is self-compromise.

 And we are unwilling.

Back in the day, there were key parties, Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice. Back in the day people didn't have landing strips or Brazilians. 

Back in the day...

swingers were ordinary folks, doing their thing. They looked relatively ordinary. They didn't ooze it like a herpatic pustule. They didn't reek of it like a sloppy seventh.

Now....they do.

Now, it's becoming rather mainstream. 

NOW....there are tribes of swingers. In our particular area, four tribes have emerged. We have seen all, but are a part of none. 

The four tribes are named thusly by my Viceliness:

The Plastics

The Posers

The Nasties

The Tantrics

The Plastics

They look how they sound. They have money. Trips to Vegas, Hedonism and swinger cruises are their mainstays. They spend most of their time in a gym and on a surgical table or aesthetician's chair. If they don't have the money, they at least have the beauty. Young girls dressed to the threes (because nines would cover too much of their young flesh) kiss each other and flirt, all under the very watchful eye of their well-off boyfriend. These girls don't even know what they want to be when they grow up, let alone something as complex as who they are and what they want. But they are usually there, in the venue of the contemporary swinger:

The music is loud, bass booming so you can't converse. No thoughts shared, no conversation sparked, no names exchanged. Just....noise. Faux fog spews out, all the better to see you with, my dear. Faux fog, like the candlelight of the bedroom, hides our flaws and makes everyone look ethereal and mysterious. Asthma sufferers, beware. Private, V.I.P. booths exist, for a price, so that the man with the money and bulging belly can entertain his two much younger "bi-sexual" girlfriends as they sit on his lap and make out. Club wear, clothes that can't be worn anywhere else without getting you arrested, is the fashion.

If you don't look plastic, you won't be invited to the after-party. Boo. Hoo. If the women fuck like they look, you might get a more authentic experience using this:

It might be a better conversationalist as well.

The Posers

These kids are just that. Kids. They are the newly marrieds, the boyfriend-girlfriends, the fuck buddies who want to explore together but have no real intentions of walking the walk. They usually meet in a house because they can't afford a total club take-over, or an old warehouse where someone's uncle owns a space. 

The girls can be average to very sexy, but one thing they are not is doers. They tease, flaunt and flash, but when it comes down to the nitty-titty, they won't go there--even if they are in a relationship. Sex to them is a way to control, a game. The guys, ironically enough, are there quite sincerely and naively expecting an actual swinger-fest to take place. Will. Not. Happen.

The main reason for these parties is for girls to show off the goods and the guys to drool. Let the blue-balls begin.

The Nasties

These swingers do it and do it hard. They ride their Harley's to the party and ride their partners while screaming "Who's yer daddy?" 

Bless their hearts.

These people are in it for the pleasure, sure, but there isn't a lot of money, privilege or discrimination among this bunch. One hole is as good as the next. A picture's worth a thousand words.

The Tantrics

If Bent and I had to choose any group, it would be this one. This group attempts to have decorum, taste and consideration behind their swinging.

Granted, it's a bunch of New Agey bullshit rationalizing fucking indiscriminately, but the people there tend to be sincere, moderately attractive, and have good manners (and hygiene).  And, quite frankly, they're the group with the Sybian.

Nuff said.

Alas....

with the pickin's as slim as they are...I'm grateful I have Ruby, my wonderful Bent and, yes, finally, a Sybian, to enjoy.

Who needs to leave the house at all?

Love, Vice