I've been fortunate enough to have been swinging for over thirty years now. I started swinging as a single guy and it looks like that's the way I'll finish, but I'm happy to say that for most of the time it's not been the case.
There's a hierarchy in any sort of swinging scene and as you get older your position in it changes. Of course, the young beautiful people will always be at the top but that isn't always where the most fun is to be had. At 5'9" I was never going to be a male model, but my advantage was that I've always been reasonably fit and quite muscular. I was built a bit like a male gymnast. Not all the women I fancied were into this physique but I found that I often appealed to women older than me. As I got older the more appealing I got to women of my own age however. Especially when compared to their husbands who were beginning to let themselves go.
My first swinging experience was at University. Uni really opened my eyes to sex with people my own age, but by accident one day in my second year I found a discarded copy of Rendezvous swingers' magazine. For the millennials reading this, Rendezvous was one of the ways of making contact before the internet came along. Advertisers would place an advert in the magazine saying what they were looking for and respondents would send a reply to Rendezvous giving their address or phone number and perhaps including a Polaroid picture of the sort that you couldn't get developed at Boots the chemist. If you were a match the advertisers would reply.
I started to buy Rendezvous regularly and began to reply to couples looking for single guys. Most of them were more mature. The woman (and often the guy too) were looking to get it on with a young guy and it was usually the case of the younger the better. As a student, with nobody tracking your whereabouts, you were ideally placed to capitalise on this market.
My first attempt at a meet was a disaster. I drove a hundred miles in my clapped out old mini to meet a couple in their mid-40's. I got there too early and they weren't ready but worse than that they both looked very rough, bordering on unhygienic. It creeped me out and so, on the pretence of going out to fill the car up with petrol, I made my excuses and headed for the hills. It taught me a valuable lesson about saying no if it didn't feel right.
My second attempt was a real winner however but I almost turned the offer down. I got a really nice letter from a couple in their late 40s who lived in the wilds of Lincolnshire. It explained that they were a liberated couple but that he (David) had contracted mouth & throat cancer which had left him unable to talk but also unable to kiss his wife (Ruth) passionately and that she really missed this intimacy. They included a Polaroid of Ruth in the bath and to be honest she looked a bit plain and a bit overweight. I didn't really fancy her but I liked the letter and so I responded saying that I'd like to meet them. Their next letter invited me to stay with them for the weekend, they offered pay for my train fare, show me around the area and most importantly (for a student) feed me.
A couple of weekends later I skipped lectures on Friday afternoon and made the long journey over to Lincoln. It was 8 in the evening before I arrived at the station. I was surprised that it was Ruth who was going to meet me but then being met by David, who couldn't talk, would have been difficult I guess. When I saw her triumph GT6 in the car park I realised that three was going to be a crowd anyway. I'd always had a thing for those little Triumphs (even though they were real rust buckets). It took about 45 minutes to drive from the station to their house and during that time Ruth explained about David's illness and what to expect. Apart from the obvious impact of the surgery the medication made him tire easily but other than that the rest of him was very much intact. Ruth also explained that David was a writer and that I might have heard of him. I hadn't but he must have been doing ok because when we arrived at their house I was a bit taken back at the size of it. David had obviously had some success.
David was waiting for us at the front door, probably keen to make sure that his wife hadn't brought home an axe murderer. Introductions were made and quickly we moved onto the subject of feeding the impoverished student. By the time we'd eaten and had a glass of wine it was around 10.30. David was clearly tiring but then he gave what must have been a pre-arranged signal to Ruth that (presumably) he was happy that I wasn't an axe murderer and that things could proceed to the next stage. Ruth, a little bit flushed now, explained that her husband was off to bed but that if I liked she would join me in my bedroom in a little while. I liked very much. They showed me to my room, complete with en-suite and suggested I took a shower and slipped into the dressing gown they'd provided, while Ruth and David returned to their room.
I showered brushed my teeth and sat on the bed waiting for what seemed like an age. Eventually Ruth knocked on the door also in a dressing gown but clearly with stockings on underneath it. She had a bottle of red wine and two glasses which she filled before joining me on the bed. We sat and chatted mainly about David and his illness. I wasn't sure how to change the subject to the matter at hand but I needn't have worried as Ruth took the lead, taking my glass off me and putting it down on the bedside table before kissing me passionately. I felt like my mouth was being devoured and after a while things got very sloppy but she still kept tonguing me and inviting my tongue in her. I undid the tie on her dressing gown and opened it to reveal expensive lingerie. Ruth had a cleavage to die for and I couldn't help going straight for her tits. I climbed on top of her and continued to kiss her while dry humping her through her panties. She started to moan quite loudly, I don't know if it was for the benefit of David in the other room (if he was still awake) or whether she was just like that.
With some desperation in her voice she said to me, "We've got all weekend, but right now I need you to fuck me."
I got off her and reached into the dressing gown pocket for a condom I'd put there.
"There's no need, it's safe and besides I want you to cum inside me."
This was the early 80's, AIDs was a year or two off hitting the headlines. In those days safe meant no pregnancy. I didn't need to be asked twice. I pulled her panties off and got back on top of her slipping easily inside her. I started slowly but she encouraged me to go faster and deeper. I was worried I was going to cum too soon but she kept encouraging me saying that she wanted my cum inside her now. Before long the inevitable happened. I was balls deep in her when I came. She moaned louder and we stayed locked together for a minute or so.