The History and Definitions of Swinging which is couples only

The history of the word "swinging" is that it was previously called wife swapping but "wife swappers" needed an easier name to describe the activity. As "wife swapping" gained popularity and media attention in the 1950's, the activity was changed to "swinging" and more recently "The Lifestyle"

So by saying your a single swinger your saying you are a single wife swapper...which doesn't make a lot of sense.

Swinging has its roots from U.S. Air Force fighter pilots during World War II. These men were wealthy enough to move their wives close to base, and the fact that their fatality rate was the highest of any branch of service led to an unusual social milieu in which non-monogamy between these pilots' wives and other pilots became acceptable. These arrangements persisted near Air Force bases throughout World War II and into the Korean War.

By the time the Korean War ended, these groups had spread from the bases to the nearby suburbs. The media picked up on them in 1957 and promptly dubbed the phenomenon ``wife-swapping.''

Supposedly there were also "key clubs" where husbands reportedly tossed their house keys into a pile in the center of the room where they were drawn at random by the wives. The owner of a selected key was the sexual partner for the evening.

Swinging has always been about couples - Every national swing convention in the U.S., and as far as I know of in the world, is couples only. Today marriage is less important so non-married "couples" have been generally accepted but some swingers prefer only to participate with married couples.

There are zillions of very good reasons why couples prefer couples. There are some single men that participate especially since clubs often have certain nights open to single men which raises lots of money since single men want so badly to participate. Those are the nights most "swingers" avoid, except for a few that do enjoy single men.

Sadly very few single women ever participate so the problem is zillions of single men wannabe's and very little demand. Some single guys do fine but they are the exception in the lifestyle. Since many women are Bi there is also a demand for single Bi women to participate, but technically whether man or women a single, is really not a "swinger" they just are allowed to participate with "swingers" (couples previously known as "wife swappers").

All this is making me so horny.. Im getting so wet..... What I want to do now whilst sitting here at my computer is........

Just a simple piece of prose in honor of the fairer sex.

....and daydreams bore me aloft in flights of fantasy. I held you in my arms and felt the intoxicating flow of your breath caressing my chest. I stroked your silken hair, I lost myself in the bottomless depths of your eyes. Familiarity swept over me as I held you, it was as if you had, at some point long ago, taken refuge in the sanctity of my embrace before.

How many nights I have dremt of you. How many days I have spent, toiling away with lifes burdens, accompanied with thoughts of you in my mind. I imagine looking up and down your frame. Atop your wondrous face, sits a soft and golden hued, heavenly shock of hair.

Lovely as words can naer describe, framing your face in perfect harmony and accenting your mesmerizing eyes with elegance, your hair sweeps `round your face and cascades dreamily down your neck and shoulders.

Your face haunts me, luminescent eyes draw me deep within your soul. A cute, perky nose livens your face with an air of attitude and grace. High cheekbones accent your features, what most women long for, seems natural and unremarkable to you. Your cheeks crimson with color, I am sure, as your read this. The crimson shades in to the perfect tan. Light hues of brown skin, framed by your golden curls and offset by your startling eyes, meet at your nose with a near invisible trace of tiny freckles.

My eyes trail downward. Your throat takes my breath away, it always has. Many have been the times, when my dreams allowed me to bury my face into the soft skin of your throat and lose myself in the haven of your neck. Long, lean arms that I dearly wish were wrapped around me, lead down to your magnificent hands that have so often carried me to bliss.

A tiny, disappearing waist, joins to your breathtaking hips and thighs. Oh, but the thoughts I have had about those thighs. The times I have imagined my lips creeping up them, carried by swirls of my tongue. Long and graceful legs are next to meet my eye. Sleek calves and tiny ankles, your legs are what even goddess dream of. Standing back and drinking you in, I behold you in your entirety.

My God, what a vision. Looking into your eyes, loosing myself in their allure, I find peace in the most beautiful part of you. I feel unworthy and like a lesser creature, when I encounter your joyful soul. Heart of hearts, face of an angel, body of a temptress, mind full of wit and charm.

Words fail me now, as I am lost in the bounties of whom you are

Wow.  What a night.  Attending the Awards with some newcummers to ST, we made our way early to the meet and greet, ready to see everyone and enjoy Ronalds  Hospitality.  No.  There werent a lot of folks there we knew and yes, we missed old faces very much.  But, all in all we had a nice time.  The fun though, came afterwards, of course.

            The limo ride served as the hors de vors   emmmmm  hor d ourves    Hmmmm   hor dourves?   Nope  Ummmmmmm  Damn spellcheck!   Oh!  I got it.  Appetizer!  Lol  THAT is what I wanted to say! 

            However, the dastardly Limo driver MUST have sprayed the car with some sort of malicious aphrodisiac for the return trip.  We were talkative, laughing and merry friends on the ride over. On the ride back, the Limo slipped into some erotic Twilight Zone.

            It didnt take long before this one lady explored the fair lowlands of Scotland in pursuit of knowing exactly what WAS beneath that kilt.  Then this same lady, this blushing and shy? little honey from West Texas leaned over to attack the bountiful swells so enticingly semi-revealed beneath the blouse of the groups outlaw lady, the Mrs. of the pair of Bonnie and Clyde.

            It was a sad thing to see, I must admit.  It must have been horrific for Bonnie, because in my sleep I can still hear her moans and see her writhing.  I still see images of the two of them. The shy devourer of Bonnies bouncing breasts and the groaning Bonnie herself, wriggling and head thrown back as her womanly bounty was being ravished by the shy west Texas girl.

            Then, just as her ravenous appetites seemed satiated, I noticed her leering eyes fasten on the innocently exposed feminine and succulent mounds of sweet Alice and her wonderlands.  I saw her eyes wander and could tell her mind wondered, if the wonderful wonderland was as wondrous a wonder as she wondered.  Then, she didnt wonder anymore.   She just let her mouth wander in Alices wonder.

            It was no small wonder, but Alices head went back as moans escaped her throat.  Again, the intensity must have been tremendous, because as her moans filled the Limo, you could see her hips grind in what must have been unspeakable pain.

            Again, we sensed the ravenous Shy creature must have been finally satisfied, but no.  Raising up from Alices wonderland, her greedy eyes locked on a new target.  In a display of unsportsmanlike conduct that was shocking to behold, her hands swept away a small soccer ball and laid bare the twin goals of an innocent Soccer Mom.  There was shock and surprise in Mrs. Socs eyes as the shy minx crept closer.  

            As the attacking shy one leaned lower, I saw with own great horror, a look of hyena like hunger flash through her eyes as she noticed up ad down the Limo, luscious ladies resting in innocent repose with their feminine bounty unknowingly exposed.  I saw the idea illuminate in her eyes, she had these poor beautiful creatures trapped and helpless, she was the guest of a veritable all she could eat muffett.

            Dipping her head, her hungry mouth opened to accept the already stiffening fruit at the tip of the firm soccer swells that had miraculously popped out of their blouse.  . 

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Isn't it great when women tell us how they want it???

Read inside for the story...