What Happened When My Partner Took Me to a Swinger Party

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I still recall how two questions lodged in my throat the night my partner, Jake, revealed he wasn’t taking me to an ordinary Halloween gathering. The first was, “Are you serious?” and the second, “Can we please just go to Denny’s instead?” Jake dropped this surprise while we sped down the freeway, dressed in our costumes and crammed into his trusty, chipped jeep. Just minutes away from finishing a long drive, it felt like his timing was perfectly calculated. I’d seem like a spoil-sport if I protested, and Jake knew that.

Everyone Has Their Preferences

When Jake and I first started dating, we made it a point to lay out our differences, adopting a “take me as I am” approach. In any relationship, whether romantic or platonic, mutual respect is the cornerstone of a solid foundation. Without this basis, there’s nothing to build on. If you don’t believe me, just ask the top relationship coaches who earn a living advocating that respect is crucial for happy partnerships. If respect is the foundation, then having enough of it to embrace each other’s differences is the penthouse—way up high.

Jake was into BDSM and open relationships, while I preferred cozy nights on the couch with a good video game. He enjoyed swinger parties, and I’d rather be at Chuck E. Cheese. That’s why we, like about 20% of the American population, decided to enter an open relationship. We had many similarities but also wanted the freedom to explore our individual preferences. As long as everyone is safe, who cares what people do?

Ninety-nine percent of the time, Jake understood and agreed with me. But that last one percent—this night—he tried to take a big leap across the line. Before we began dating, Jake joked, “Remind me never to take you to one of the parties I frequent.” Apparently, he forgot that warning.

“Just Do This for Me”

The car finally came to a halt in front of a large house, where party-goers scattered across the driveway. Jake flashed a pleading grin so wide I could almost see dimples through his beard. “Come on, it’s a small crowd. Besides, there are people from work here, some guys we worked with at the haunt,” he coaxed gently, holding my hand in that soft way boyfriends do. “You might have fun.”

But “fun” was the last thing on my mind as I stepped into the humid house, Halloween-themed balloons littering the hardwood floors. Feeling like an outsider, I stuck close to Jake as he began to mingle, giving a kiss to a pretty blonde dressed as a scarecrow. She placed her hand on his chest and called him “Jakey” while I turned away to scan the room.

Curiosity pulled me in. I had imagined a potluck with homemade potato salad or an “Eyes Wide Shut” sex cult fantasy, but instead, the party seemed relatively normal. Couples chatted, and friends danced—where was the wildness I expected?

I tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but it fell flat. “Just do this for me,” Jake whispered in my ear, as if trying to soothe a child having a tantrum. He must have noticed my discomfort. I should have protested harder; after all, I didn’t want to be here. But I was also eager to support him, to be the understanding partner.

Instead of voicing my true feelings, I said, “I’m going to step outside and see if I know anyone.”

The Unexpected Encounter

The backyard turned out to be the stage for an impromptu game of strip volleyball—minus the closet, the seven minutes, and most of the clothing. Perhaps the indoor rooms were too crowded, and they opted for the grass instead.

I found a spot on a weathered pool lounge, one of the few places not taken by couples, and observed as a group began their game in the shallow end of the pool. In the darker part, away from the floodlights, I spotted a bikini top bobbing in the little waterfall cascading from a rock wall. I blended into the background, focusing on the least scandalous images I could find—like the forest beyond the fence and a small dog greeting guests. Nudity didn’t bother me, but as I zoned in on the game, a warm body settled beside me.

I felt a hand brush against my leg as the lounge shifted under his weight, nearly sending me tumbling into his lap. “Hey,” the man said, brushing his dark hair off his shoulders. “I know I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

Though I recognized many faces from the haunt, I had no memory of him. Maybe that unfamiliarity is why I let myself relax a little, engaging in conversation with him. He was attractive in a slightly dangerous way.

His hand found its way onto my exposed shoulder, and he ran his long, metallic blue nails down my arm. I closed my eyes, feeling a mix of anxiety and unexpected arousal. “You might have fun,” Jake had said, echoing in my mind as I leaned into the stranger’s touch. But then he emitted a low moan—was it a growl? I had to stifle the laughter that threatened to escape, a sign that I couldn’t remain here much longer.

When I pushed his hand away, he muttered, “Prude.”

Seeking an Exit

I went inside to find Jake and see about getting a ride home, weaving through the crowd. He was lounging on a purple-tinted couch near a bobbing-for-apples station, a young woman beside him, one of the go-go dancers from the haunt, named Mia. She leaned against him, her hand resting on his belly, their conversation animated.

When I interrupted, she shot me a friendly smile, her blue eyes glazed from whatever substance she was indulging in. “Can we go, please?” I asked Jake, flashing a polite smile to Mia. “I can get a ride if I have to, but I’d rather not stay.”

“The party ends at two. Relax, go find someone,” he said, as Mia leaned into me, her chest brushing against mine.

“See that good-looking guy?” she whispered in my ear, nodding towards a shirtless man dancing nearby. “That’s my boyfriend, Nate. He’s great with first-timers if you want to give it a shot.”

A few hours later, I lay in bed, sending a text to the friend who picked me up and took me home. I closed my eyes, replaying the night’s events after Mia’s offer. After declining her proposal, I turned to leave when Jake stopped me.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Home,” I replied. “Please, let me go.”

“Why are you being a prude?” he shot back, using that word again. I could tell his smirk was meant to embarrass me, just as I had apparently embarrassed him. But I stood my ground.

Setting Boundaries

If having different preferences makes someone a prude, then we all are. With over 7.8 billion people in the world, it’s safe to say no one is exactly alike. Jake hoped I’d deny the label and stay, but I wouldn’t budge. I didn’t mind him being there; I simply didn’t want to be.

Establishing boundaries is just as crucial as accepting people for who they are. So, I left without a second thought. If someone pressures you into doing something you’re uncomfortable with, they don’t truly care about you.

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Summary:

In a candid recounting of an unexpected night at a swinger party, the author reflects on the complexities of relationships and personal boundaries. While her partner, Jake, attempts to coax her into embracing a lifestyle different from her own, she ultimately asserts her own comfort levels, highlighting the importance of mutual respect and personal choice in any relationship.

Keyphrase: swinger party experience

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