Main Character:

Jae Hwa, Female, 17
- High school junior
- 5’6, 145lbs, almond skin, light-brown eyes, long straight black hair

I get asked all the time if I’m really twenty-one. Or twenty-two. Or twenty-three.

I’m not any of those, actually.

My name is Jae Hwa, but everyone shortens it to simply Jae. My parents are from South Korea but they moved to Florida before I was born to open a restaurant in the Tampa area. I look a lot like my mom, I think. Average height, a little overweight, long, dark straight hair that I often pulled into twin ponytails. Other than being Korean, I grew up thinking I was otherwise unremarkable compared to my peers.

I never got big breasts unlike many of my white and black classmates. They stayed small and puffy all through high school and I tried my best to wear bras which added a cup size or two beyond what was needed. I was generally the quiet one in class. A decent student but nothing extraordinary. I got along with most everyone who wasn’t overtly racist (and there were a lot of those in my schools.) I had a few female friends I spent time with, playing tennis, hanging out at the mall, texting about boys well into the mornings.

No one would have figured me for being obsessed with sex.

I craved it since I’d hit puberty at eleven. I sucked my first cock at twelve, an older boy of fifteen or sixteen, and then I sucked off two of his friends a couple of weeks later. I let two or three boys finger me, too, and I finally gave up my vaginal virginity at thirteen to a high school boy who lasted all of about sixty seconds inside me before busting his nut. My anal virginity went only a few weeks later to the same guy.

By my seventeenth birthday, I’d let fourteen different boys and men put their penises inside my pussy, and two had been in my ass. I lost track of how many dicks I sucked. Some of them were boys in my middle or high schools, yes, but after I turned fifteen, I learned a few things about appearing older and attracting more mature men.

I’d sneak out of my house often with my parents both working at their restaurant late into the night. I started putting on a lot of makeup, shading my features, padding my bras, wearing clothes which signaled someone older than fifteen.

I’d been lucky enough to suck a guy who could get me a fake id. I traded my ass for it, in fact. Personally, I think I got the better end of that deal, but he might have disagreed. Anyway, with the right clothes and makeup and the fake id, I was able to get into bars and clubs all over town.

“You don’t look twenty-one,” said many of the bouncers and license checkers. Or “twenty-two,” or, most recently, “twenty-three.” I heard it almost every time. But I’d roll my eyes, light up a cigarette, and proceed to act like I was really tired of being doubted. It always worked, too.

And so, I got into the places I really wanted to be. I sucked cocks of executives and janitors, let college boys finger me in alleys, and, when I felt like it, bent over and let married men stick it in me and cheat on their wives.

I didn’t always take part in anything sexual when I was out. I liked to drink but I rarely did so to get drunk. I loved to dance and sing loudly. For every drink I had to buy myself, I got ten or more from guys who just wanted a dance or an hour of conversation. I met so many guys who just wanted to talk, and I was cool with that so long as I could get away to meet someone else or go dance or, if I was in the mood, find someone to fuck.

Some would called me a slut for the way I behaved. I’m not really sure what that word means. Was it because I liked sex? Because I appeared to others to be indiscriminate with who I sucked or fucked? Did it mean my companionship was not worth that of girls who were prudes? I wasn’t really sure, but the honest truth was that I was really good at keeping my private life private. Sure, the boys I fucked and sucked in my schools sometimes bragged or joked about being with me, but there were a lot of such rumors going around, and it didn’t stick to the quiet, shy Korean girl in the same way it did to the blonde, obvious, bimbos.

So no one really had a clue what I was up to most Friday and Saturday nights. I didn’t think of myself as a slut. I just liked sex. I liked sucking cock. I loved being fucked. So what if other people might think less of me. It was my private life. I didn’t let it spill over into the rest of my life, you know, the times when I was with my parents, my friends, or in school. Those times, I was just quiet, shy Jae Hwa.

I was drinking one Friday night at a loud dive bar where a punk band was playing. I’d had a couple of drinks, chatting with an older man, probably in his fifties, who was reasonably attractive. He’d lightly flirted with me, though nothing terribly aggressive. I was in a mood where I was probably just going to drink and dance that night, but I kept open the possibility of something more.

The man, Fred, wore a wedding ring but there was no sign, nor mention, of his wife. I’d been in that situation a few times and though I had mild reservations about fucking a married guy, I’d done it before and I knew I’d do it again.

Like many men in many such conversations with me, Fred brought up the subject of sex before I did. “You said you like to dance, right?”

I nodded, sipping a gin and tonic. “I love dancing.”

“You should try out, uh, this place called the Swingset. It’s just west of the city.”

I shook my head. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s, uh. It’s a real adult place, you see? You don’t have to go over to the other side, but the dancing there can get really ... crazy.”

“Other side?” I asked.

Fred laughed, “Yeah, you’re probably not too interested in going there, now that I think about it. More of an older crowd, though there are people in their twenties and thirties sometimes, too.”

“No comprendo,” I said in my best (worst) Mexican accent. “Why wouldn’t I want to go?”

“Well, uh,” Fred stammered before downing the rest of his bourbon, “like I said. It’s kind of ... an adult place ... not just drinking and dancing...”

“So there’s fucking?” I blurted out with a sly grin.

Fred laughed. “Exactly.”

“Sounds like my kind of place,” I told him, waving at the bartender for another round. Fred had already said to put my drinks on his check, so I wasn’t about to pass up another free cocktail.

“Really? Pardon, but you don’t seem like, uh, umm...”

“I don’t seem like I want to fuck a lot?” I loved seeing the mix of shock and arousal in men’s faces when I was bluntly honest.

“Well, I don’t know, really, you just seem ... young, I guess.”

“I get that a lot.”

“I bet you do. That’s a good thing, I promise. Makes you seem more innocent...”

I smiled, “‘Seem‘ being the key word...”

Fred stared at his glass a moment, then leaned towards me, “Listen ... If you ever want to check out Swingset, I’d be happy to go with you. I can introduce you to a few people there. I’m a regular.”

I glanced at his left hand. “And your wife?”

He smiled, “Figured you noticed that. Don’t worry. We’re swingers and open. In fact, she’s just over there with her boyfriend.” Fred pointed to the dance floor where a tall, thin, forty-something redhead was grinding hard with a young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties. “She’s on her way back to his place this evening.”

I watched her a moment, then asked, “Doesn’t bother you seeing your wife with a younger guy? Fucking him?”

Fred shook his head. “Not at all. In fact, I love seeing her with him, or whoever makes her happy. Part of the life we lead. Don’t worry, though, we get plenty of fun time for ourselves, too.”

“Explains why you’re hanging out at the bar, chatting up a pretty, innocent girl who looks younger than she is ... Looking to hook up yourself, right?”

He shrugged, “Sure, usually. I get enough to be happy, honestly, but when I find an interesting conversation with a pretty woman, young or not, I’m open to whatever possibilities may unfold.”

I laughed and sipped the new drink just placed in front of me. “Well, I’m open to possibilities, too, Fred,” I leaned forward and put my hand on his thigh. “and I’d really like to suck your cock right now.”

He shuddered and smiled broadly, taking another long swallow of bourbon, “Here?”

“I know a place close by, if you’re interested...”

His eyes caught mine for just a second before he said, “Definitely.”

We downed the rest of our drinks and Fred slapped a fifty dollar bill on the bar, waving to the bartender as I led him out the rear exit.

The bar opened out into an access alley I’d been in several times before. I walked to the left past more doors and came to the spot I’d discovered months earlier. It was a recessed alcove about mid-way down the alley. It had just enough room for two people to slide in and not be seen by anyone not immediately in front of the alcove.

Fred watched as I lit a cigarette, grinned, then squatted down.

I unzipped his fly and fished his erect cock out through his boxers and the opening of his slacks. Fred’s penis held some weight, a decidedly thick shaft and head, and perhaps six inches in length. I took a drag on my cigarette, then held it to my side as I slid my lips over Fred’s dick.

He started to moan and I pulled off him to say, “Shhh ... gotta be very quiet...”’ He nodded in reply and I started sucking him again.

For two or three minutes, I worked my lips up and down Fred’s cock. I tasted sweet, thin juices flowing from the tip. His precum was abundant and delicious. Soon, Fred put a hand on my head and wrapped his other around his shaft.

He was getting close. I could feel his dick swelling in my mouth. His fingers grabbed my hair tight and held my head in place. His fist flew along his length, jerking it, and his hips pressed forward. Hot, salty jism spurted into my mouth and I held my breath. Jets of Fred’s sticky cum fired against my tongue and quickly formed a pool in the top of my throat. I waited for him to finish, his legs swaying and straining, then I swallowed his whole load in one swift gulp.

Fred pulled his cock free and stroked it a couple of times, breathing heavily.

I took a drag on my cigarette and stood up, straightening my skirt.

“Damn, Jae,” Fred said, “that was magnificent.”

“Mmm ... I like sucking cock. And swallowing cum.”

“You would be very popular at Swingset,” he told me, “very popular.”

As he tucked his penis back into his pants and zipped up, I said, “Maybe I’ll give it a try sometime.”

“Here,” he said, grabbing a business card out of his pocket, “when you want to go, give me a call. I’d love to take you there.”

I read the card. Fred was a tax attorney with his own firm. I eyed him with doubt, “You want me to call your work phone number to talk about going to a sex club?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, wrong card ... uh.” Fred reached into his pocket again and pulled out a different card. “This is the one.”

I looked it over. It had his name, his mobile phone number, email, and listed memberships in clubs like Swingers of America and Adult Club International.

Fred explained, “I give that out to people I want to meet up with after playing in clubs.”

“Makes sense.”

“You interested in another drink? Or ... maybe I could return the favor?”

I laughed, “I just had a drink, thanks.” I finished my cigarette and flipped the butt into the rivulet of water running along one side of the alley. “I’ve had my fun for the night. Maybe next time, Fred.”

I kissed his cheek then walked off, leaving the man standing in the alley, alone. I didn’t look back.

“Hello, this is Fred.”

It was a week later when I decided to give the man a call and see about going to Swingset. “Hi, it’s Jae.”

“Jae! I ... I actually didn’t expect to hear from you. How are you?”

“Good,” I told him. It was Friday afternoon, a couple of weeks before the end of my Junior year. I was sitting on a bench in a park down the street from my house, smoking a cigarette and soaking up the warm sunlight. “I was wondering if you’d like to take me to Swingset.”

“Absolutely! Yeah, for sure! When did you want to go?”

“I’m free tonight or tomorrow night.”

“Hmm,” he replied. “I can’t go tonight, my wife and I are going on a double date with a couple of our close friends, but tomorrow might be good.”

“Okay.”

“Should I pick you up?”

“It’s close to Shannigan’s, right?” I’d researched Swingset before calling Fred. “Why don’t you just meet me at Shannigan’s.” I wasn’t about to suggest he pick me up at home.

“Yeah, Shannigan’s. Sure, I can do that. Eight o’clock?”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ve got your number now, since you called me. I’ll ring you in case anything changes.”

“Sounds good, man,” I replied.

I was rather nervous, to be honest. Despite my experiences over the years, the idea of a sex and swinger club was something very new. I was used to the game of hooking up. Flirting, teasing, making my moves. I figured I’d be walking into an outright orgy and, though the idea was very exciting, it also didn’t exactly fit what I was used to doing.

Before they left Saturday morning to open the restaurant, I told my parents I was going to stay with a friend of mine that night and then spent the day getting ready. I got a hair cut, mostly just trimming an inch or two to neaten things up, then the stylist carefully wove twin braids along my crown to hang down past my shoulders. I bought a new red bra and matching pair of silky red panties, along with a pair of black hose that came up to my thighs. I had to get a garter belt to hold them up.

I already had an outfit perfect for the occasion. It was a one-piece dress, dark red and flared at the bottom so that there were extra folds. It swished when I walked, hanging just above my knees.

Before I showered, I carefully shaved my pussy, leaving a small, slender patch of dark hair above my slit, the rest bald. Thankfully, I did a really good job and didn’t leave razor burn that I could see.

I got fully dressed, adding black, three-inch heels to my outfit, then started on my makeup. I layered foundation and liner and blush and a dark-red lipstick which matched my dress. I dangled thin silver and emerald earrings, then put a silver twisted chain around my neck. I spritzed on perfume that was rose and lavender and almond.

My phone rang around 6pm. It was Fred. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, Jae. Just checking in. Listen,” he said, “my wife is interesting in going tonight, too, and she’s bringing her boyfriend. That sound okay?”

I replied, “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Fred answered. “I thought maybe, since I invited you to go with me, you might not like my wife being with us.”

“I have no problem with it, but I do want to make it clear that I’m going with you, but ... I’m still free to do what I want, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll play with you, for sure, but I want to see what else might be fun. Know what I mean?”

“Ah, yeah,” Fred replied. There may have been a slight edge of disappointment in his voice. I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to spend my first time in a sex club being exclusive with one guy. No way. “Okay,” he continued, “sure, that’s fine. Of course. Same goes for me, as well.”

“Great. Just wanted to make it clear,” I affirmed. “I’m excited!”

“Me too. You’re going to love this, Jae. I promise.”

Fred’s Lexus sedan pulled up in front of Shannigan’s a few minutes after I got there. I was standing outside the sports bar and restaurant, smoking a cigarette. Fred stepped out of the driver’s side and called to me, “There she is! Hey, Jae! Wow ... you look amazing!”

“Hi Fred. Thanks! Just let me finish this and I’m ready,” I added, holding my smoke up.

“Sure, no problem.” Fred wore a dark-purple button-up shirt with a collar and cream-colored slacks. He looked a touch older than he had in the dive bar. Of course, that might have been because I’d been a couple of drinks in before I met him that night. Still, Fred was attractive enough and I knew I’d enjoy letting him fuck me later that night.

The two doors on the passenger side opened. From the front, the tall redhead I’d seen dancing the week before emerged. She wore an outfit I’d never seen the like of. It was black latex, neck to ankle. The blouse, if you could call it that, was tight and covered everything but her hands below her neck. The woman’s breasts were obvious and good-sized. The pants were tight on her thin frame. I couldn’t help noticing she had a thigh gap.

The man behind her was the same one the redhead had been dancing with in the dive bar. He wore a sharp looking dress shirt and black slacks that hugged tight to his thighs. I thought he might have been Cuban based on his features. He was a very good looking guy.

“You must be Jae,” the woman said, “I’m Karen. You look lovely!”

I smiled, took a drag on my cigarette, and replied, “As do you!”

“Mind if I smoke one with you?”

I shrugged, “Sure thing.”

“Thanks.” Karen lit her cigarette as her boyfriend walked up. “This is Yuniel. He speaks very little English.”

“Hi Yuniel,” I said.

He smiled and said, “Hello, uhm...”

“Jae.”

“Jae, okay.”

I smiled at him and felt a flutter of attraction pass between us.

Karen asked me, “First time going to Swingset?”

“First time, yeah,” I replied. “I’m excited...”

“It’s a fun place to let loose. Just so you know, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? Sometimes, there are really pushy guys in there. You don’t have to put up with it. If someone’s creeping you out, tell me or Fred, or there is an attendant who will shut that shit down pronto.”

“Okay, thanks. Good to know.”

“Otherwise,” Karen continued, “have a good time. We always do.”

The way she eyed me made me wait to respond. Karen finally said, “Do you like women, Jae?”

I shrugged, realizing it was her way of propositioning me, “Not really my thing, sorry.”

“Shame,” she smiled, “you are very sexy. A woman like me likes young women like you, too, not just boy toys like Yuniel here. Isn’t that right, Yuniel?”

He grinned. I had no idea how much he understood.

Karen turned back to me. “Anyway, that’s fine. I’m sure there will be some other pretty girl to play with tonight if you’re not interested.”

I shrugged again, stomping my cigarette butt on the ground. Karen ashed hers as well. She said, “Yuniel and I will sit in the back so that we can ... warm up ... How about you sit up with my husband?”

“Alright,” I replied.

I slid into the passenger seat while Karen and Yuniel got in the back. Fred closed his door and smiled at me, planting a small kiss on my cheek. “You really do look amazing, Jae. Brilliantly so.”

I returned his smile, “Thanks. You look rather handsome yourself.”

The drive took only about five minutes. Karen and Yuniel were in the back seat kissing and touching each other. Halfway to our destination, I put my hand on Fred’s thigh and very slowly inched my way up to where his erection was already bulging. “Mmm ... that for me, Fred?” I asked him slyly.

“God, yes,” he replied, trying to focus on not hitting other cars on the road.

I teased his crotch a little but decided to wait until we were inside to pull out his cock.

We parked inside a gravel lot which was surrounded by a high cinderblock wall that must have been three stories tall, only a small single-car entry/exit opening along one side. The Swingset building was inside the wall, two stories tall and long, going back some ways beyond where I could see. Fred told me they offered rooms for privacy for those willing to pay for them, but they rarely did since they lived fairly close by and rarely cared about privacy in the club.

We got out of the car and I immediately lit up a cigarette. I saw an older woman and man nearby who were smoking and stood with my back against the building wall a feet from them. Fred waited with me, nodding and smiling silently at the other couple, while Karen and Yuniel went inside.

“Nervous?” Fred asked me gently.

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay. I was nervous the first time I came here.”

“When was that?”

“Oh,” he said, tilting his head back, “probably not long after it opened, so ... twelve years or so? Thirteen? I lose track of time these days.”

“By yourself?”

“No. Karen was with me. We’d just started swinging and opening our marriage up. This place was certainly eye-opening, to be sure.”

“What did you do that first time?” I asked, taking a drag.

“That first time? Not much, honestly. We were both so nervous that we didn’t even do more than look on a bit. We drank on the bar side. Danced. Ate from the buffet. They offered us a quick tour of the other side of the facilities, where the adult activities take place, and so we followed this guy as he fairly quickly took us around.”

“So ... you got to see other people fucking?”

“Briefly, yes. The tour went by the three large common areas which is where we saw the action. There are some closed-door theme rooms, too, but those require reservations until later in the night. A couple have a small window so that those inside can let people outside watch them, but most had the privacy curtains pulled and so we saw little from those. But, yeah, we saw people fucking. That was ... thrilling. When we got home that night, Karen and I fucked like we hadn’t in years, and we came back a week later and finally started joining in the action.”

“Sounds like fun,” I told him. “I’m nervous,” I added, changing my tone to the shy-but-seductive one I used so frequently when trying to hook up, “but I’m also very wet right now...”

“Mmm ... God, Jae ... I want to taste you so bad...”

“You will,” I promised, grinding my cigarette butt into the gravel, “but first, I’d really like a drink.”

I stopped inside the large bar and dance area and looked around. Fred had paid at the door for me to get in then went ahead of me to order us drinks. I’d had to put my purse and phone back in the car. They allowed neither inside. After returning and going in with Fred, I took in the sights.

The bar itself was nothing unusual, a curved L-shape along one wall with stools and a dark-wooden counter. Hundreds of bottles and a couple of mirrors made it look much like any other bar. The other side of the room was half cushioned, faux-leather booths and high-top tables, half dance floor with two poles along one side. A mirror ball rotated above, sending sparkling reflections that seemed to match the beat of the Euro house music played at a low enough volume to actually hear conversations.

There were perhaps fifteen people in the room besides Fred and I. Two were Karen and Yuniel. The rest were mostly men in their fifties and sixties. I saw one man who was probably in his thirties, and three women, all at least fifty or sixty. A few eyes paused to look me over as I stood in the entranceway, and I smiled at each person who sized me up. I liked to be noticed, and I was looking my best that night in my favorite dress and stockings and high heels and makeup, and I milked every interested gaze which came my way. Even the women were checking me out.

Fred waved me over and I sat on a stool next to him, Karen to my right with Yuniel beside her. The bartender started to sit a gin and tonic in front of me, then pulled it back. “You sure you’re twenty-one?”

I flashed him my casual, I’ve-heard-it-a-million-times smile. “Twenty-three, actually.” I pulled out my id and slid it onto the bar. He examined it carefully, looking at it then me then back at the card.

He finally shrugged, “Looks good.” My drink was put in front of me and he returned to tend to another customer.

“So this is the smaller part of Swingset,” Fred told me. “The ‘Loosening-Up Room’ as Karen likes to call it. You can’t take drinks over to the other side, some silly licensing thing. There’s food at the buffet near the back if you’re hungry, and the dance floor is always open.”

“Is everyone else on the other side?” I asked, eyeing all the empty seats around me.

“Probably some over there,” Karen replied. “It’s very early yet. The action heats up closer to ten or eleven or so.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied.

Fred cut in, “Don’t put up with any shit from anyone. No means no, okay?”

“Yeah. Karen told me the same.”

Karen nodded. “Also, no overt sexual stuff in the bar area. Kissing, light petting, that’s okay, but nothing that wouldn’t fly in a normal bar. No tits out. No cocks. And so on.” She sipped from a tall glass holding an orangish-red cocktail, two cherries hanging over the rim. “Did you bring condoms?”

I nodded. “Always.”

“Good. Use them. I don’t know what you’re used to, Jae, but don’t let someone you don’t know fuck you without one. I never do.”

“I don’t,” I replied. It was true. I’d never actually let a guy bareback me. I was too scared of pregnancy since I wasn’t on birth control. My parents, though they were very kind, were fundamentalist Christians who would have freaked out at the thought that I was even considering having sex. As far as they knew, I was still a shy virgin too young to even look at boys. Silly, really. Ludicrous, considering how much experience I already had at seventeen. They’d go insane if they knew where I was at that moment.

“It’s a good idea to take things in first. Go over and watch and see what goes on. It’s pretty casual in the common areas. People make out or fuck or do whatever. If you’re interested in someone, you just ask. That’s expected. Don’t be afraid to say ‘no’ and don’t take it personally if someone tells you the same,” Karen said. “I turn down and get turned down all the time. Not everyone is over there to swing or swap. Some just like to watch. Others are sharing an experience with a spouse or lover.”

I sipped my drink, then took a longer swallow. “I understand.”

“I bet Fred forgot to bring you a towel.”

“Did not,” the man said, “Hers is in the locker as well.”

“Good man,” Karen purred at him, then turned back to me. “On the other side, always sit on your towel. You’re supposed to clean up after you sit and do whatever, but it’s still easy to leave something nasty behind. Wherever your skin is exposed, make sure you’ve got your towel under you. We’ve got these two color towels. Dark side is for putting down, light side is for sitting on. That way, you never accidentally sit on the wrong side of a towel that just soaked up someone’s sweat. Or cum.”

We sat quietly while we people-watched. A man and woman were on the dance floor together along with two men, each dancing alone. Another couple was kissing in one of the booths. Three men were seated at the bar further down, chatting loudly and laughing.

Most of the people in the bar were well dressed. Sharp-looking shirts and slacks and blouses. Two of the women wore sexy skirts and heels. There were a mix of races, though all but three people appeared to be white. There was a black man, alone, and two hispanic men who were moving around talking to others.

I finished my drink and ordered another. A woman walked up behind me and said, “Hey there. I understand you’re a first-timer?”

I nodded.

“Great! I’m Krissy Swallows, one of the managers here. Welcome to the Swingset. I’d like to go over some rules with you, if you’ll listen for just a moment.” She was blonde with a ponytail, average height, tanned beige skin, slender, wearing a collared, white button-up shirt with the Swingset logo embroidered over one breast. Krissy gave me the same general overview of what was expected and allowed in the bar and play areas that Karen had just briefed me on, then the woman asked, “Would you like a quick tour?”

I looked at Fred and he said, “Go for it, we’ll save your seat.”

I agreed I would enjoy a look around, so I took another long swallow of my drink and followed Krissy through a door along one wall. We went down a short hallway and three different doors before the last one opened into an area that was rather cold and brightly lit with a half-a-dozen low couches. The music playing was soft lounge with a jazzy, trip-hop beat. There were two men and a woman in the room, sitting together. They all looked flushed and sweaty as they talked softly. “This is the cool-down room. It’s a great place to come to if you get a bit overwhelmed. We ask that you treat this room like the bar. No overt displays, okay?”

I nodded and Krissy led us through one of the four doors other than the one we’d first come through. It led to a larger area than the cool-down room, the lights low and reddish, the music a bit more upbeat and clubbish. A couple of blacklights cast purplish shadows on the sides. More low couches and large, oversized footstools, all of them faux-leather and dark. There was a pole and small dance floor along the back wall. Mirrors were prominent on three walls. I saw several stations where there were paper towels and sanitary wipes. No one was inside.