Chapter 84: Separate Incidents of Swinging

Mark

I sat in the jump seat behind Cindy Conners, one of my ‘wives, ‘ and John Morris, the senior captain for all the aircraft in my private and corporate fleet. I’d passed up the luxury at the rear of the Cessna Citation in order to follow the entire flight halfway across the continent ending at Teterboro Airport in Bergen County, New Jersey, a short limousine ride from Manhattan and Wall Street.

Cindy was flying left seat as John checked her relevant skills. When our trip ended, he’d sign off in her logbook. She was flawless, and I couldn’t even feel any jolt when she set the twenty-five-thousand pound Citation X on runway 19. We rolled out almost to the end of the runway, and angled off to head to Jet Aviation, the FBO (fixed base operator) where she’d chosen to refuel and park the aircraft during our three-day stay.

After we shut down the plane’s engines, John got up, opened the plane’s door, and deployed the stairway. A stretch limousine pulled up to the plane. We had five other passengers with us as well; some of my staff from the financial part of my international company plus two security types. We’d be meeting with various analysts from Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Credit Suisse, Wells Fargo, and Bank of America over the next two days talking about our earnings report and answering questions about the future plans of the company. We had a meeting at Goldman Sachs that afternoon, and the next day an afternoon group meeting hosted by Morgan Stanley in their Wall Street offices.

We disembarked. John told us he’d arrange for the plane refueling and parking, and see us when we were ready to return home. He planned to stay with friends in New Jersey, and expected a call from us when we saw the end of our meetings was in sight. We piled our luggage into the limousine and rode into downtown New York.

Cindy had elected to assume the role as my assistant during the meetings. She worked for a small investment house at home, but had never seen the inside of the kind of meetings where we met with the big financial houses and talked about our business. She knew enough about Worthington Industries to be credible but would leave the majority of the conversations to me and the other men and women with us. She was all ears and planned to take copious notes, especially when I promised to get back to someone with additional information we didn’t have right then.

Over time, my relationship with the various women in my life had been figured out to the point where it ceased to be news or even worthy of public gossip. I lived with nine women, four of whom worked for me – Sheila, Melanie, Marcia, and Izzy. We were professional in the office and people finally gave up trying to look for overt signs of our sexual relationship where we worked. Just to set the record straight, I did frequently check that my female co-workers were abiding by my office dress code of no undies.

After our afternoon meeting with Goldman, we went to the hotel and got checked in. Cindy and I had a penthouse suite. One of the security men had already been to the suite, swept it for bugs and eavesdropping equipment, and secured the location.

“Where would you like to have dinner?” I asked Cindy. “Any favorites or want to dos now that you’re in the Big Apple?”

I might have known that Cindy had planned ahead for this very question because I got a lecherous grin from her. She came over and had me wrap my arms around her. After kissing she said, “You and I are going to have a wonderful dinner with your colleagues starting with team-building cocktails in the bar downstairs in about thirty minutes, and then we are going to come back here, change into really sexy clothes, and take a short walk to a club called Checkmate on Fifty-Sixth Street in Midtown. We have everything we need for a fun evening in the lifestyle.”

I grinned back at her, “Oh, we do, do we? Well, the term ‘club’ sounds like some kind of membership is required, just like the ‘Club’ Infinity.”

She kissed me again. “It does. We’re members. We even established reciprocity with them in the rare situation where someone from New York wanders into our city and needs a sex fix and decides to come to the Club Infinity. They’ll even have VIP status, the same way we will tonight and any time we visit in the future.”

“I am putty in your hands,” I told her as I shook my head in wonder. I should never second-guess any of my wives when it comes to arranging something sexual during one of our trips.

Almost three hours later Cindy eagerly led me through the entrance of Checkmate. The place was done in a decorating style I might refer to as late twentieth-century bordello. They even had some red-flocked wallpaper on a few of the walls; something obviously left over from the 1970s. That said, the people were polite, welcoming, and the service was superb, especially after Cindy flashed our VIP membership cards to the hostess.

Cindy explained, “The first floor is for meet and greet. If we find a couple or group we want to socialize further with we head upstairs. There’s a co-ed locker room up there where we lose our clothes before going on to what are euphemistically called ‘more comfortable surroundings.’”

We each got a drink at the bar and took the last unoccupied table near the edge of the dance floor on the ground level. Some sexy music played by a DJ alternated between slow and fast numbers, emphasizing the slow and romantic numbers. The dancers were a show all to themselves; male and female hands wandered over their partners’ bodies in an excited way. There seemed to be no hesitation to touch breasts, pussies under someone’s short dress, asses, or cocks through someone’s clothing, while using the dance floor as an excuse to stand together and sway. Occasionally, a couple or two would head off upstairs toward the locker rooms. I assumed that most of the pairings were not with the person they arrived with.

Cindy leaned over and talked to me in a stage whisper, “We got the last unoccupied table. After this anybody that comes in may ask permission to join us, or someone at another table may ask us too. That’s how we couple up. Sure, it’s done on physical appearance, but we’re each giving off body language and a welcoming aura. If you see somebody you like we can invite them over or join them; or if someone is just arriving, we ask them to join us at our table.”

I teased, “Kind of wham, bam, thank you ma’am, isn’t it?” I did believe that zipless sex had a place in the repertoire of games that people played.

Cindy looked at me like I didn’t get the scene. “This IS a swingers club. People like us come here to have a little sexual variety. This is not the place you’d come to in order to find a long-term romance, although I would guess that some of the not-married couples might find others that suit them that way. The emphasis here is on variety. Most people here arrived as a couple; after that there are no unexpected rules. Single men are allowed in, but on a varying quota based on the number of women in the club.”

I chuckled and continued in the same vein, “I have a huge sexual variety at home, and then there are our parties and friends that come over frequently.”

Cindy smirked, “Well, try some new pussy ... new ideas to try, things to explore, personalities to weigh in on, new erogenous zones to find.”

We scanned the crowd at the other tables while we waited for our drinks to arrive. “Where’s our security?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Steve and Katherine are standing against the wall directly behind you. I told them they could participate in club activities if they wanted, but they weren’t sure what the night might bring. I got the feeling they wanted to do each other long before we got on the plane. I offered a swap with them, but they turned me down, at least for the time being.”

I almost missed another couple that was heading to our table. The cute brunette had zeroed in on me like a laser beam; I could feel the intensity of her gaze before they reached our table. The guy with her looked clean cut and right out of a Dockers advertisement – not that I looked any different. They were both near our age and looked like a pleasant couple to play with. I was pleased that they’d singled us out as possible companions.

“May we join you, please?” the brunette asked in a hesitant tone as she stared into my eyes with lust dripping from her body. The guy just nodded agreement with her request as he sized up Cindy.

Cindy smiled, “Oh, yes. Please do. I’m Cindy and this is Mark.”

“I’m Wendy and this is Ron. Thank you.” After a few seconds of studying me, she said, “You look just like that billionaire guy – Worthington or something.”

I grimaced and commented, “I get that all the time, especially with the first name Mark.” That seemed to pacify her speculation and she seemed to assume I wasn’t ‘the’ rich guy; I was just a look-alike, and a handsome one worthy of being a sex partner for a few hours. After that we did some small talk about what brought us to the Checkmate. I was purposefully vague, and never mentioned investor meetings. I did mention we were from out of town but were new members of Checkmate.

Cindy and Ron had quickly hit it off; she was accurate about making snap decisions about someone’s character and desirability. He was stroking her leg through her skirt as they sat, and she was running her hand up and down his thigh in a sexy way designed to sexually excite his libido. They were assessing how well the teasing of the other was going already, and five minutes hadn’t passed since they sat down. The rising lump in Ron’s crotch testified that she was having an effect and from the size of said lump I guessed she’d be a happy camper in the near future. The tenor of what they planned together seemed to get sealed with some hushed words and a few kisses that only escalated what their hands were doing to each other when they changed to have an even more sexual intent.

Wendy and I started to make out as well. We quickly established that we liked to kiss one another, and the French kisses were divine – our tastes were quite compatible. Both our hands wandered to cloaked breasts and groins. After I’d diddled her pussy for a short while by reaching up her short skirt to an unclad slit, she said, “Let’s go upstairs. I want you.”

Cindy led the rest of us upstairs to the co-ed locker room that was more like a large lavish closet with lots of half-height faux wood lockers with keys on wrist straps hanging from each door except those that had been taken. We were naked and Wendy was in my arms within seconds of arrival. We almost fucked in the locker room we were so eager, but Wendy assured us there were more comfortable surroundings only a few feet away.

Ron and Cindy found an empty room. They were down on the cushioned mats and he had his head buried between her welcoming legs and his tongue in her slit almost before Wendy and I got into the room with them. They maneuvered into a sixty-nine, and I thought that seemed like a good idea for Wendy and me. We followed suit.

Wendy seemed as eager as I was for the sexual contact. I felt there was something there besides just our connection at a swingers club, like she wanted to prove herself to me or something even deeper.

I started by taking one of the noteworthy nipples into my mouth and sucking on it until the white heat from the nubbin almost burned my tongue. After that I allowed my tongue to meander down her torso to her manicured pubic hair, and then into her slit. I ran my tongue around there for a few minutes, finding her vaginal opening and feasting on the outpouring of succulent fluids Wendy’s body had started to produce for me to enjoy.

I shall never tire of the delicious taste of a woman’s pussy, or the texture and feel of her labia and the start of her vagina on my lips and tongue. Wendy had large lips that I could suck into my mouth. Her clit soon became engorged and almost like a small penis. When I tried to suck that into my mouth she went bonkers and had a couple of gushy orgasms.

Wendy spun around and impaled herself on my hard cock with a loud moan of deep sexual satisfaction. She started to energetically bounce up and down on me, taking advantage of every inch I offered as she told me how wonderful I felt inside her cooch and how she wanted to spend the entire night riding this particular cock. I thought that sounded like a pretty good proposition, so I agreed that we should keep doing this for the next few hours.

Wendy asked, “How many rounds can you go? I mean should we stretch this one out or will there be another?”

I smiled at her as I bumped my cock into her with a little extra uumph. “I bet you tire out and want to stop before I do.”

Wendy grinned broadly at that comment and the implied challenge. We started to start fucking with great abandon.

Beside us, Ron had mounted Cindy and seemed to be pleasing her based on the sounds and actions they were exhibiting. Cindy’s large breasts swayed in a sexy way with his thrusts. For that matter, Wendy’s tits were swaying all over the space between us. She even leaned over and fed one of them into my mouth so I could suck on her nipples that centered on beautiful large dark areolas.