encores. With one final bow they walked off the stage.
I turned to look at my latest dance partner, and realized I didn't even remember having just danced with her, I had no idea who she was! We had travelled from all over North America to be here; lovers of an older style of dance got together to show up and show off. Each year, there seemed to be new faces. I chuckled to myself. The new dancers were either getting younger and younger, or my age was starting to show. Somehow these old dances whipped us into a frenzy and even one taste was enough to keep you hooked for your whole life.
I thanked and hugged my partner and went to splash some water on my face in the bathroom. My weekly dance classes kept me in top shape. I saw the man in the mirror - there was something fierce in my face, a natural blush in my cheeks. Somehow I looked more confident than I felt. My ex-wife and I had married at 25, and we were together for 5 years before we weren't together. I won't go into details of the events that led to our separation but suffice to say after the 5th time walking in on her in our bedroom with groups of others, I decided enough was enough, and I never saw her again.
I was fucked up - I was so angry and so betrayed because I had treasured her above everything else. After some time spent in therapy, I realized that I might not have been acting in my integrity after forgiving her the second time. When I was a child, I was terrified of my parents separating and my family falling apart. I would do everything in my power to bear the brunt of my mothers fits and my fathers anger in order to keep things together. The pain in my childhood ripped me apart, and all I could think of was resolution. Naturally, these patterns followed me in to my marriage. Don't get me wrong - we had good times, but ultimately I wanted a partner I could trust, and she took advantage of my fear and dependance to keep betraying me.
8 years afterwards and I have grown a lot. My first couple years were agony; lonely and isolated. I decided to grow by myself before falling in love, or being intimate with another. I eschewed sex and romance, because I couldn't trust myself, couldn't trust my childhood patterns that put me in compromising positions where I tried to hold on to something comfortable that hurt me. My friends were worried about me because I shut myself off and lived in my own private world. I did honestly try and make an effort with them. My friends have always meant a lot to me, but what was the point? I, a wounded bird, would only slow down the pack. One of my closest friends, Gray, was a persistent guy. 6'7" he towered above most people. Scary, right? No. Actually he was one of the most sensitive people I've ever known. He was able to empathize and listen when all of the others had given up. Mostly to humour him, I ended up attending the swing dancing event he had been inviting me to for months.
I shit you not, I hadn't had that much fun in years, and I became a regular. My pain began to dull, turning from an angry sore to a fading bruise until one day I woke up whole again. I put my entire heart into it. I worked my 8-4 as a consultant for the city, and afterwards I took two classes and a private lesson. Every weekday. My teachers soon saw my heart, and I started spending time with them outside of classes. This led to the situation I started my story with - an invitation to my first North American meet up of swing dancers.
All this flashed through my mind briefly while i splashed water on my face. Wow. 8 years without sex. I can't pretend that I don't get lonely sometimes, I crank it out, but i never think about her. I get so angry my penis falls. Usually I think about things that I make up. I have a very active imagination.
I do want to be honest in my story - it might be a lie to say that I never once engaged in intimacy. 3 years after the divorce I was drinking in one of my usual dens when a whirlwind of a night occurred and I found myself in bed with a retired broadway diva who had turned to an office after being caught up in a sexual scandal. Apparently everything they say about diva's not having the same emotional intelligence as the characters they portray is true. After the foreplay had started, I wanted to connect on a more intellectual level, and I began talking about my understanding of condoms and the risk they pose to union. I even brought my recent clean STD tests, although I knew I had nothing to be worried about, being in good physical condition during my celibacy. I also shoot blanks. She seemed put off, and we never spoke again. Her loss.
I walked out of the bathroom trying to avoid getting lost in my thoughts for too long. Despite being an silver fox, cool and composed on the outside, I struggle with anxiety and a slight lack of confidence. Dancing is one of my releases where I just float off and don't think. I pushed open the door to get back onto the floor. Everyone was still moving, gyrating and gliding, but to my absolute shock, they were all BUTT NAKED. The band was shadowed in a haze of smoke in the dark, blowing like crazy, while I could hear the slap of nude feet on the wooden floor from where I stood frozen in place. This had never happened before.
At this point, my anxiety was slithering up chest and wrapping around my throat like a slimy tentacle and I almost choked. I mentioned my lack of confidence, and the first thing I thought was that I was coming across as a complete virgin. My therapist would often talk me through moments like this, where we would roleplay an encounter that wasn't part of my routine and I would react with an innate sense of power and purpose. Even my therapist couldn't have imagined this scenario though. When in Rome I guess...
I stripped down and briefly ran my hand over my pubic hair. Slightly overgrown. Inwardly I cursed, but upon looking around, some of the fantastical bushes on these adventurous dancers made my jungle look like a well manicured lawn. I laughed and found myself a partner. We danced in circles, wildly, fervently until the music slowed down and I pressed her body against mine. Our sexes made contact, her sweaty lubricated body graciously accommodating my stiffening sex. My fingers indented lightly on her hips and lower back and I was lost to the movement and music.
Many partners later, I took a break and went to the bathroom to relieve myself. Trying to avoid sticky patches of urine on the floor, I waited for my rigid manhood to soften, and then I spilled myself into the urinal. What the hell was happening? We had been divorced for 8 years, but was I being unfaithful to my wife? 'Ex-wife' I reminded myself. Besides, I was just dancing. With or without clothes, our bodies would be pressed close together like this anyways. I couldn't let this get to me. She had cheated on me with groups of people over and over again. Why was I overcome about some dancing? Who was I kidding, I was loving this. I rushed back out, avoidig those sticky spots one more time.
I could hear sleazy muffled music oozing through the closed door. I opened the door ready to get back in the throes of dancing, but once again I was flabbergasted. Swing dancing had turned into a swingers suckfest!
Everywhere I looked there were dancers with body parts in their mouths.. penises, pussies, breasts... It was a veritable suckfest like I had never seen before. I froze again, anxiety rising like an unwelcomed guest. The last time I had walked in on my wife (ex-wife, dammit) she had been involved in a scene like this, but on a much smaller scale. In front of hundreds of swingers, my terror amplified, and I had to catch a hold of the smooth door handle to keep from falling over. I thought of what my therapist had told me, about channeling my anger into action as opposed to being overcome by the shame of turning your big feelings on yourself and I smiled. I wouldn't let her win this time, and speaking of big feelings, something down below was feeling big.
Let me stop for a minute and say, that usually my low confidence prevents me from entering into spaces like this, but these were my people. Even if they were complete strangers, somehow I had sweat and bled with them before. There's a depth in swing dancing that is hard to explain to those who've never touched that delirious state after dancing for hours. So yes, I rushed in to join them.
Engulfed by a warm wet mouth after 8 years. 8 years of isolation and loneliness, I exorcised my pain, excruciating as it was, I chose me. I chose pleasure. In those first moments, I realised that I had just expunged and expulsed something evil that I hadn't been able to shake, even after therapy at it's most vulnerable points. Sometimes you just need to live. You can work as much as you want on yourself, but sometimes the only way to heal is to live. to LIVE! I quickly engulfed something else, and i felt a nipple harden in arousal with the inside of my lips. We switched places so many times that night. My body reacting to the touching, to the music, to the feel of sweat and skin. I was enflamed. Life. To experience is to triumph, to feel is to create. Overcome by the sheer joy of it all I came and came. Hungry mouths gobbled my fluids, and I assumed theirs, swelling dangerously.
I was still hard, so I flipped my partner around skillfully, and her with a flourish pressed back against me. I started - I was so caught up in the magic of it all that I didn't have my STD tests on me. I was clean but I couldn't wear a condom for ideological reasons. I told my partner this, and she laughed, tickling my ear with her tongue. Pussy oozing like an industrial soft serve machine, she took my rigidity and slid me inside her. We twisted and pirouetted in tandem. I slipped from her, and slid into another. Many people, too many to count. She was just one person. She held power over me because I couldn't be powerful for myself. She was just one person. I was free now.
Exploding in a trance. Cum like a fountain. I was once a stone. I will be a stream, an ecosystem, a language. I burry my face in my hands and slide out. I can choose. I will never wear a condom, I will never submit my heart to someone I don't understand and who doesn't feel like family.
I believe in myself. I trust myeslf. I can grow. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
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