Adventures In Swinging -- PART ONE -- True Story

“Maybe,” he said in a slow, rural drawl, “you could explain to me why I found you in the middle of an orgy.” 

“Well,” I said, “if you’re going to be in an orgy, the middle is the best spot, isn’t it.” 

― Jim Butcher, Hex Appeal -- A novel 

“You want me to snort this off your cock?” She said. The truth is, I never thought of that scenario before— that someone would snort anything off my cock. It intrigued me, but caused quite a stir inside. Mostly because I wasn’t sure of the logistics surrounding snorting stuff off my cock. Is it possible? Will I be able to hold still long enough? Shit, is it thick and straight enough to act as a platform for the bath salts she was holding? 

My mind was racing and suddenly I was self-conscious about a scenario I never thought I’d face. But here I was facing it none-the-less and somewhere deep inside the idea was reaching a boiling point. The fact was, I could not think of anything I’d want more in this moment. Snorting bath salts was called taking a flight in our circle. You know, because it gets you high. Clever, I know. I imagined my cock as a Boeing 747. Then I reminded myself that it was much closer to a smaller Cessna Citation x. Regardless the size of the delivery mechanism, I wanted Mandy to jump aboard. I consoled myself thinking, “It was still a jet at least.”   

The beauty of Bath Salts was simple, the high is a mix between cocaine and ecstasy. Kinda makes a man feel like a horny energizer bunny. I’m not entirely sure how it made a woman feel, but I did know inhibitions were gone and the size of the airplane wouldn’t matter to her. However, the sexual and joyous euphoria came at a price. The drugs design forced open the flood gates of serotonin to the brain, but it also depleted it completely in hours. The resulting side effect of complete loss of serotonin was days of depression as the body raced to restore order and rebuild the supply. At the time, the high was worth it, and at that exact second I had an important decision to make. 

In truth, the decision was pretty easy, but my mind continued to race all the same. How cool would it be if it became routine? What if this is the way she wanted to get high from now on? I imagined the word getting out about my talent and realized it may be one of the gifts I was given in life. I fantasized about women lining up to snort powder off my average member. Maybe they’d hire me for parties? 

Ok, focus, I had to answer her, but she was topless, and her surgically molded tits made it hard to stay in the moment.

There’s a feeling most people get in the pit of their stomach after a long climb up the tracks of a roller coaster and just before it takes it’s plunge to the bottom. The feeling that the stomach seems unrestrained by the confines of gravity. It tosses and turns while making it’s way to the middle of a persons throat. I had that feeling. I had the shakes too, it was adrenaline coursing through my body.

The music roared around us, but in that brief moment it was just her and I— and her husband. He approached sometime just after her offer and right before my answer. He handed her a shot that looked like Kool aide and she gulped it down. At the same time my stomach dropped from the middle of my throat to somewhere close to my feet. As she, swallowed I summoned my voice and blurted out, “Yes! Let’s do it.”

 I really wanted her to snort party favors off of “The Sprinkler.” Oh yeah, My penis had a nickname, the unfortunate result of accidentally cumming on a male friend during a threesome. I’ll cover that later.   She winced and looked at her husband, “Did you put my dose in the shot?” 

I knew the answer already. You can snort bath salts, take it in pill form or mix it in a drink and if you did the latter the chalky, bitter taste of aspirin dust made most people wince, just like she did. 

 Her husband nodded, “yes,” as he swayed side-to-side like waves of the ocean were directing him. 

“Oh shit, let’s do it on the next dose,” she said. We usually took a dose of bath salts every two hours. I agreed, but even though the intentions were pure neither of us remembered when it was time for the second dose. We had taken a flight and after the first jolt of bath salts hits the blood stream, plans and schedules don’t matter anymore. That night we became karaoke buddies at an orgy and we both seemed content with that. 

Mandy, the 5’9, brunette with green eyes, perky breasts and an ass built in the squat rack became my friend and this would not be our last concert.

Names places and events may have been changed to protect identities of those involved.