Swingers are stereotyped in various ways. A common misconception is that we fuck everyone. On a recent lifestyle cruise we encountered an individual who crossed the line on that belief.
It was lingerie night. I was wearing a silky, lace adorned black and emerald green bra with matching skirt that covered half my ass. The look was completed with garter straps attached to black thigh highs and heels. It was glamorous, made me feel classy and confident. After several hours of drinking, dancing and flirting with new friends and potential playmates, I noticed a classically handsome security guard at the perimeter of the party deck. Dressed in a traditional black suit, crisp white button down, black tie. He was tall. I love tall. His dark eyes and freshly trimmed facial hair complimented his seemingly chiseled physique perfectly. His confident posture conveyed his role of superiority. There was almost an arrogance about him. All things combined, he was completely fuckable. His wandering eyes made it quite obvious the attraction was mutual. We locked eyes several times. We undressed each other in these gazes, but never spoke a word.
Eventually I took a much needed bathroom break into the nearby single stall. I exit the stall to find Mr. security guard standing against the wall. I jumped, shocked and embarrassed. “Oh my god. Am I in the men’s bathroom?” I ask. He says yes, nodding his head. “Oh shit, sorry, let me wash my hands and I’ll get out of here.”
In his sexy Israeli accent, “Miss. I find you very attractive.” I turn around from the sink, meeting his gaze again and smile. “Ohhhhh. I’m not in the wrong bathroom. You’re just a trouble maker,” I reply. “I mean you no harm Miss. I just find you very attractive.”
We flirt and chat for a minute about this being the cruise line’s first lifestyle charter. I tell him we signed a contract prohibiting us from interacting with staff. His response “I’m a security guard. I can do whatever I want.” He takes a step toward me and we kiss. It happened so fast. The sexual tension was strong. He smelled delicious. Adrenaline was pulsing through my veins. The blood flow was redirected completely to my vagina. FUCK! He picks me up, takes me into the stall and starts undoing his belt. I wanted him. Every ounce of my sexual being said YES. This would be an experience I would recall forever. A fantasy come true.
“No no no I can’t do this. I have to ask permission.” He pulled back and repeated, “I mean you no harm.” Our two minutes of scandal were thankfully cut short when another staff member unlocked the bathroom door to let complaining patrons in.
Once the hormones dissipated and my vagina stopped throbbing I further evaluated the situation. He had locked the door behind him. Unbelievable. He assumed it was a sure thing. That was likely based on my excessive flirtation and lip locking with various men at that night’s meet and greet. On top of my aggressive sexual nature, the chemistry between us was tangible after a few simultaneous stare downs. But that was enough for him to corner a married woman in a bathroom? The crowd was sexually open minded and embraced non-monogamy, which led him to believe that his proposition would surely be accepted. As charged as those two minutes were, I couldn’t help but think he was a fool for risking his job. Yes, we have sex with other people, but that doesn’t mean we have sex with anyone and everyone who asks. We have rules and standards. It’s not always 100% about the sex. We value the individuals and couples we play with. A solid friendship takes a swap from good to great. Trust, respect and honesty are at the core of this lifestyle. Sure, we’ve all fucked just to fuck, but a majority of the time we seek more than penetration. Despite what many vanillas believe, we know this isn’t about the notches on the bedpost.