Where’s the line between enjoying a little admiration and outright exhibitionism? I put myself on exhibit whenever I walk across a bar in tight jeans and I’ve-been-a-bad-girl-daddy four-inch-heeled Mary Janes.
I love being seen, but I also love slipping through a city unnoticed, never feeling the weight of another person’s gaze on me or the quick energy exchange of a stranger’s eyes meeting mine.
So I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about being on display when I started swinging. It gave me a lab in which to experiment with being seen. I loved walking into a club and watching men freeze with their glass halfway to their lips.
(Men get excited easily in swing clubs because they know you’re there to fuck. And if there are twenty guys in the place, they figure they’ve got a 10% chance with you, because god knows they’re all above average.)
At swinger hotel parties, I enjoyed pushing myself out of a pool, knowing my triceps and lats were flexing and my pussy lips were backlit. Then I’d walk—slowly—around the pool to the deliberately distant spot where I’d chosen to stash my towel.
I was chilly, but that meant my nipples would be erect and my muscles engaged as my feet left marks on the floor and droplets slipped from my hair and ran over my breasts.
“Sorry,” I’d murmur when I brushed against someone’s husband, resting my damp fingers on his shoulder blade as I slid past.
They never minded.
I’ve been eaten out by a woman while sitting on the edge of a pool, and another time when I’d climbed into a sex swing to demonstrate how it worked to a newbie couple (same woman, come to think of it. She’d lift her mouth to look at the nearest person and say, “Mm, she’s so sweet!”). I’ve been fucked a few feet away from a grandmother I knew from church and looked up to say, “Oh, hey!”
I’ve done the usual outdoor play because I didn’t have my own place or just because everything tastes better outdoors.
I savor the brazenness of it, the feeling that I’m giving a double-handed “fuck you” to the voices that told me that women didn’t enjoy sex, or if they did, they needed to be in luuuurve first.
So no, exhibitionism isn’t a turn-on for me. But fucking in front of strangers just because I don’t give a shit who knows I’m a horny bitch is satisfying in a way that may be (may be) better than the fuck itself.
Top class writing Veronica. I loved the scenes you created her. So many wonderful phrases. ‘Backlit pussy lips’ is to die for.
Thank you!
Oh yeah! I’ve only been to a few swinger’s clubs in Berlin but I get what you mean and rawr!
I moved away from swinging but I know exactly what you mean. I could be seen and found sexy and nobody had to give you secret glances, they could openly lust after you and that did feel good.
I am no longer interested in swinging, either, Bee, but yes, good point. I rarely had to guess whether someone found me attractive–and I didn’t worry about whether I had done something to make them think I was available (because I was!).
Tried unsuccessfully to follow you, but wanted you to know that I’ve appreciated those few posts I’ve been able to access. Stay safe