Ashley & Aaron — First Night

The lounge glowed in warm amber light, music thrumming under the low buzz of conversation. We’d taken a deep leather sofa on the edge of the floor — close enough to feel the hum of it all, far enough for her to breathe.

She was nervous, but I knew she needed a gentle first taste — someone easy, confident, and not too forward. That’s when I saw him. Mid-forties, open smile, relaxed posture. The kind of man who could make anyone feel at ease.

“Go on,” I murmured. “Just talk to him. See where it goes.”

Ashley smoothed her dress and crossed the floor. I watched for the signs I knew so well — the unconscious tells she didn’t even know she had. The slightly higher lift of her chest. The quick glance at his mouth before she returned to his eyes. They were there already.

They shook hands. He teased her gently about being new, making her laugh. That laugh always loosened her guard.

Then he stood, offered his hand. She took it.

The Starter

They began with a slow sway, her movements still a little rigid. She glanced at me. I tilted my head, pointed down — a subtle cue. Her hips began to draw small arcs.

“Turn,” I mouthed.

She pivoted, pressing her back into him. His hands slid to her waist. I could see the change in her body — her chest rising with a slow exhale, shoulders softening.

“Push back,” I called softly.

She obeyed. His hands roamed — down her sides, over the curve of her hips, grazing the tops of her thighs, brushing just under her breasts. Her fingers twitched, then relaxed.

She was starting to slip.

“Now let him explore,” I instructed.

Her hips rolled with his, the fantasy already forming in her mind.

When she returned, cheeks flushed, I knew the starter had done its job.

The Mains — The Approach

Two younger guys had caught my eye earlier. Mid-twenties, lean muscle under fitted shirts, that cocky ease that draws attention without trying.

“You should meet them,” I said. “Tell them you’re new here. That they look cute. Fun.”

She hesitated, then straightened her shoulders. Chin lifted. Smile set just shy of confident.

Inside, I knew the real fear — it wasn’t judgement. Not here. There were no secrets in this place; everyone knew the deal. Her fear was different: What if they see I have no idea what I’m doing?

Okay… just walk up. Smile. Don’t overthink it. They’re just guys. Hot guys. Don’t stare at their arms. Breathe. You belong here.

She crossed the floor. One spotted her instantly, the other a beat later, their eyes sweeping over her like they were deciding what part to start with.

“They see me… oh god, they really see me. Don’t trip. Smile.”

She reached them. “So… I’m new here. And I think you two look like you might be fun.”

They exchanged a glance, half challenge, half welcome. One stepped in closer, the other widened his stance, hands in pockets.

From my seat, I caught the signs — pupils dilating, the faintest curl of her fingers at her sides. She was already enjoying this.

One tilted toward me. “Your man gonna let us borrow you for a bit?”

She laughed, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

“Show them your tits already!” I called. “It’s a swingers club — not doing it is rude!”

Her laugh was half shock, half thrill. If I did… what would they do first? Kiss me? Touch me? Both at once?

She kept it playful. “Maybe later.”

When she returned, I leaned in. “If you liked that, ask them to join us for a drink.”

Part of the Gang

They joined us quickly, sliding in so I was shifted out and she was in the middle — exactly where I wanted her.

Within minutes, they had her laughing, swapping outrageous stories of married women discovering their appetite. And instead of freezing, she leaned in, smiling like she’d always belonged there.

“So,” one said, “what’s the naughtiest thing you’ve ever thought about doing?”

She felt the jolt — not fear, but permission. I could tell them. And they might make it happen.

She bit her lip, then said it. They laughed, wide-eyed. “Damn… we thought we’d have to break you in slow!”

The Skiing Trip

The taller one leaned back. “So… never skied?”

Ashley blinked. “Not in here, no.”

The shorter one grinned. “You’re in for it. Stand up.”

I gave her the nod. She rose, the taller one guiding her between them.

“Hands here… and here,” he instructed, placing her grip on their hips.

From behind, the shorter one leaned to her ear. “Loosen up. Feel us. Follow.”

Her gasp was sharp, her head tipping back, hands twitching before relaxing. She was in that deep trance I knew so well — the one where everything narrowed to sensation.

Then, while she still held my gaze, they tugged her top down just under her breasts and began kissing and fondling her. Her eyes shifted from is this okay? to oh wow… the ride’s already started!

One slow, one fast, both trying to outdo each other. Their free hands roamed — waist, thighs, hips. She started to move with them, hips rolling to match their rhythm.

“She learns quick,” one murmured.

“Bet she’s good at other things too,” the other added.

She laughed, breathless. And I like it.

They shifted pace without warning — from deep, grinding pressure to lazy, teasing touches, then back to full rhythm. She followed effortlessly, as if they’d tuned her body to their tempo.

When SexyBack hit the speakers, she locked into the beat, hips swaying like she’d been born to it.

They teased her with positions, showed her their “portfolio.” She scrolled, sometimes shocked, sometimes biting her lip, sometimes showing me: “That. I want to try that.”

It was casual for them, like gym coaches showing new exercises — except each one left her moaning softly, eyes half-closed.

By the end, she was engulfed between them on the sofa, the three moving like one wave until both finished.

She adjusted her top, hair loose, chest rising and falling. Laughing softly:

“I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun.”

And I knew she meant it — because the fear of not knowing had turned into the thrill of learning, and being wanted every step of the way.

Something in her had awakened.