Zoomdoggle: More fun than work!

It’s Wednesday, the day Zoom lets you play Truth or Dare with Drew. Think of him as your very own lab monkey. One with a very sordid past and very little shame. Got a question or dare? Send ‘em to us at truthordare@zoomdoggle.com and make him doggle for your delight…

TRUTH: Go to a swingers club and swing like a tard at the playground! —Wally@weprobablyshouldntposthisemail.com

Sorry I wasn’t around last week. As you’ll soon see, things got kind of strange after my first dare. I’m getting ahead of myself though. My adventure began with a stop by the Zooomdoggle office, where they informed me that I would be going to New York’s premier swing club Le Trapeze. Together we looked at the site, and together we realized I would need a date as the rules require you both enter and leave as a couple. I had a couple girls in mind.

Trini is gorgeous, with dreadlocks, brown eyes, and a fantastic body. We had seen each other off and on for about a year, but it had been a while. I couldn’t exactly recall how it had ended, or why, and I wasn’t sure she’d be down. Still, of all of my prospects, I figured if she agreed to it, she’d probably be the best candidate. After all, because we have a history, it’s possible she wouldn’t just come along for ride… she’d get in on the action.

I gave her a ring, and it turns out she was completely into it (I knew there was a reason I’d liked her). “You sure?” I said. “What if some random dude wants to bone you?”

She thought about it for a moment. “No, I couldn’t do that.”

“A random girl?”

“I could do that.”

“What if people want to watch us go at it?” I asked nervously. Did I mention it had been a while?

“Is there alcohol involved?” she asked.

I’d clearly chosen the right girl.

“Alright, well what if a girl wants you?” Trini said, turning the tables on me.

“Only if you’d join.” I responded, trying to earn some points.

“And a dude?” she asked. Maybe we had ended on a bad note. I tried to recall the events leading up to our split, when she broke the silence. “I’m only kidding.”

****

I picked her up and Trini and I headed to the club. What type of sexual madness awaited us? We had browsed the club’s web site earlier, and here is what we knew about the joint:
1) Tonight was a masquerade party and masks would be provided if needed. (Sweet)
2) Sexy lingerie is always encouraged. (Sweeter)
3) No alcohol is served. The club is BYOB. Chasers and mixers are provided. (Fair enough).

We paid the cover charge, got a locker pass, and picked our plastic masquerade party masks.

“Please wear the masks at all times, and enjoy,” the doorman said with a smile. We snapped our masks on, gave each other a good-luck nod and walked into the club, ready for naked pandemonium. Only there was no pandemonium, and definitely no naked. A cloud of machine-made fog reflected disco lights.

It was hard to see even three feet in front of us. I literally walked smack into a guy wearing a pirate shirt and flowing cape. A gold mask covered his face and his resemblance to Destro from G.I. Joe was uncanny.

A worker, Destro directed us to the locker room. The fog was thin back near the locker room, but apparently so was the service. The locker room attendant was AWOL.

Trini went to the bathroom while I waited for the attendant. Next to me stood a 50-something with a gray ponytail and motorcycle sweatshirt that read “Born to Ride.” A double entendre, maybe?

“Tonight’s terrible, huh?” he said to me. Not having any clue what he was talking about, but not wanting to dismiss the opportunity to speak with a real-life swinger, I kept the conversation alive.

“Totally.”

He started shaking his head and stroking his goatee. I took this as my cue to shake my own head. “Yea, they were late opening the doors, and there was a line,” he said. “Pissing me off.” The head-shaking continued, and after a few seconds he formed a fist and lightly hit the door frame with it. I tried to comfort him. He was seriously stressed. Just then the attendant came.

“Finally!” Ponytail guy said.

Two keen observations about Ponytail guy:
1) Obvious regular of Le Trapeze, and 2) Impatient and wants to hump as soon as he can.

I waited for Trini and we opened our locker and stashed our stuff.

“So do we get naked now?” I asked.

Trini seemed a little uneasy. I peeked around the locker room and saw Ponytail guy and his date walking back to the club, still in clothes. “Actually, I think we’re good,” I added, answering my own question.

Back in the front of the club, the fog had now dissipated. To one side, there was a lounge area with a dance floor and leather couches lining the perimeter and on the other a dining area with a buffet. We grabbed a spot on one of the couches and soaked up the scene.

Five other couples sat on their respective couches and eyed us up and down. It was odd. Is this what swinger’s do? Stare, wait and be patient, like a tiger hunting prey. A porno played on the screen in the corner.

“Anal?” I shouted over the heavy 80’s synth-pop beats.

“Looks like it,” Trini responded.

We sat and critiqued the porn for a few minutes and tried to act like we belonged. Strangely, I think we did.

The lounge area also had a pole-dancing set-up that no one was using.

“Trini, get this party started,” I joked.

“I kind of want to get something to drink,” she replied. With that I grabbed my wallet and we went in search for some courage juice. On the walk, Trini and I talked.

We were both mega-uncomfortable.

“Alcohol will cure us,” she offered. I wasn’t so sure, though.

“You still OK with this? You seemed to have lost your enthusiasm,” I said. She didn’t answer immediately and I began to think our swinger night might be over.

“No, I’m still up for it. I just got nervous in there when I saw the place. The fog and signs kind of freaked me out,” she said.

We got a fifth of rum and made it back to the club, determined to start some trouble. When we got back in though, it seems the party had started without us.

Couples wearing nothing but towels were everywhere. Tall couples, short couples, fat and skinny couples – I could see nothing but flesh and nipples. And then there was us, fully clothed. We stashed our rum at the BYOB bar area and headed for the locker room, deciding it was time to strip down to our birthday suits.

Over the next half hour, we proceeded to chug rum and cokes and mingle. All of the other couples were older than us, some disturbingly old. But all were approachable, which was good since it set both of us at ease. We found a seat on one of the leather couches and watched a cute blond girl, young-looking, use the pole to seduce her date, a guy no older than 30. A huge black woman, the original BBW I think, got up on the pole with her. Everyone started to cheer.

The blond girl, looking a little freaked, got down, and her boyfriend brought her over to where we were sitting. Turns out they were first-timers as well. We talked about jobs, where we lived, the usual introductory banter. Trini mentioned how she liked the pole-dancing, and Nicole, the cute blond, egged her on to try it. David, Nicole’s date, chimed in as well. And with that she got up and danced.

She swayed to the music, dipped low, even twirled like a poison vide. I started to squirm in my seat, uncomfortable with the idea of everyone in the club getting a peep show from “my girl.” But then, Trini did something spectacular: She started at me as she danced. My feelings of uneasiness floated away, and I felt like she was dancing only for me. I droned out the cheers and felt a sense of connection with Trini. Even the creepy staff members, who could be seen crossing their legs to hide whatever was going on between them, didn’t freak me out. Was this feeling of comfort in a relationship what the swinger community sought to obtain? I think it was, because it was a great feeling.

When she was done, a few couples we hadn’t met yet came up and asked if we wanted to “join them for a fun time.” Trini and I began to kiss when BBW came and sat next to us.

“Hey, you know where can we go for some privacy?” Trini asked, motioning to me. I liked where this was going.

“You mean no one has shown you around the club?” BBW said in disbelief. Before we could answer, she grabbed both our hands and we were taking the tour. Turns out the real party was in the back. She motioned to look inside a doorway. We saw about 20 couples in their birthday suits going at it, orgy style. “This is the mat room,” BBW whispered, presenting with her hand like Vanna White. We nodded, trying to look like we fit in and weren’t a tad freaked out by the pile of sex we were peeping. Truth is, we gripped each other’s hands a little harder.

On to the upstairs. The spiral staircase was off another type of mat room. Not more than a foot from the first step was a woman riding a man. It could have been her date, or not, we were in swingland now!

We broke through the crowd at the top of the stairs and turned the corner to see – more couples. “Oh my,” Trini said. She placed her hands on BBW’s shoulders so as to avoid touching any dongs. I followed suit, placing my hands on Trini’s. Together we formed a non-dong-touching train. I was the caboose. My shoulders brushed up against sweat-covered skin, and with each bump I let out a feeble “Sorry.”

BBW left us to join in on the action in one of the rooms. We sat on another couch for a minute another minute or so to work up the courage to walk back through the hallway of lust. I was about to lead the way, when we spotted Nicole and David heading our way.

They sat down, but this time, Trini was feeling frisky and began rubbing me the four of us talked. Nicole and Trini were getting along as well, and so I felt comfortable enough to leave her and go to the bathroom. When I got back Nicole asked Trini suggested we leave. Together. All of us. As a foursome!

So what happened next? Wouldn’t you like to know? My mind is still reeling. I just need another day or so to collect my thoughts. Thursday: The conclusion. In the meantime got another question or dare I should be pondering? Send it to truthordare@zoomdoggle.com.

—Drew@zoomdoggle.com