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Buckle of the Bible Belt features healthy swingers scene

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EDITOR’S WARNING: The following story contains graphic language and discussion of sexual encounters between consenting adults.

OKLAHOMA CITY -- Secret organizations are fascinating. Institutions where secret personality traits come forth that are hidden for fear of humiliation or misinterpretation. Unspeakable things you can get into wandering around the city and running into the right (or wrong) people. Things that are better left untold.

The secret sex ritual party in Stanley Kubrick’s 1999 film Eyes Wide Shut, his final work before his death that same year, comes to mind. There’s something fascinating about being packed to the walls with promiscuity and grandeur that you get lost in the mentality that outside social norms do not exist.

While I highly doubt anything like this occurs in Oklahoma City, something homogeneous occurs if you know where to look: swingers clubs.

Living in the most red state in the country, having anything on this scale has considerably concealed compared to more blue states. Being a swinger isn’t something you throw around in a conversation living in the buckle of the Bible Belt.

Swingers are typically penned as middle-aged couples that need to find a spark in their marriage so they meet with other curiously confused couples to swap partners and see what comes of it. I didn’t get this vibe on my visit.

I’m told throughout my initial talk with the owners of a local swingers club to scale back my expectations because it’s nothing like what I expect.

“It’s not like what everybody thinks. The swinger lifestyle is not a big orgy. It’s not everybody fucking everyone,” one of the owners “Dee” tells me (The owners asked to not use their real names or disclose the name or location of the club).

Dee and fellow owner Damon have been together for 14 years. It took about three years for them to eventually dabble in the swinger lifestyle.

“I went to a private school. I was not open with my sexuality until I met Damon,” Dee tells Red Dirt Report.

The other club owner, James, has been married for 20 years. James and his wife began exploring the swingers lifestyle about 10 years into their marriage. They attended an orgy in Los Angeles that led to curiosity if anything similar was available back home.

Dee, meanwhile, is very open and enthusiastic to talk about the lifestyle and the benefits it has had on her own relationship. Dee is married to owner Damon, with James rounding out the trio. All three of the club owners are welcoming and inviting of anyone curious in the lifestyle.

Dee discloses that all interactions don’t always lead to sex and it’s mostly a “bunch of open mindedness where there’s no judgment.”

“It’s a nightclub atmosphere with a sexy twist,” says Damon.

Dee tells me that there are more couples in the swinger lifestyle that have stayed married for 20-plus years than there is in the “vanilla” world (vanilla is a term used to describe people that don’t participate in the swinger lifestyle).

“This lifestyle forces you to communicate. It forces you to be open and honest and if you can’t do that, your relationship won’t survive,” Dee tells me.

Thankfully, they invite me to their next event to see for myself what the lifestyle has in store for me.

The location isn’t known publicly and is sent out to the members prior to the engagement.

When I learned it was at a local hotel, my expectations dropped even further. I was expecting several adjoining hotel rooms with Whitesnake playing at a decent enough level that the other people at the hotel won’t call the cops. Someone brings a strobe light that goes out after 10 minutes and the TV has infomercials playing on mute all night.

My expectations were at the blue ocean floor, but my intrigue never faltered.

UNBUCKLING THE BIBLE BELT ... 

When I arrived at the hotel, it was easy to differentiate who was there for a hotel room and who was there to do some full swapping.

I followed them to a second floor where there was a line to get into a door labeled “not for the open public” with the club’s logo above it.

All the men were typically dressed in either business casual or white button-ups with black cross decals on them and bedazzled light washed jeans. All participants looks fairly middle-to-working class Oklahomans. Several women were dressed in black tops and red bottoms to match the Valentines theme of the night’s event. The crowd was really no different than the people that fill up a night club in Oklahoma City’s Midtown district. Ages were typically from late 30’s to early 50’s with some twentysomethings sprinkled throughout.

The room the event is going to be taking place at seemed to be situated in a place on top of the top floor of hotel rooms.

My eyebrows rose.

The line grew to about 20 members before the door opened at exactly 9 p.m..

Everything I thought I knew about sexuality was about to be shattered until I didn’t know normality anymore.

The first thing I see when I walk through the door is a large black and white still of a topless woman with the club logo at the bottom. This beamed down on the staff behind a welcome desk that checks you in, gives you wristbands and set you up with a staff member to show you around if you’re new. There is apparel to buy with the company logo on them.

An adjoined hotel party with “Here I Go Again” playing in the background this was not. This is clearly a legitimate and serious business operation.

I waited at the front entrance until I see Dee, who motioned me past the front where I met James and Damon again. Damon took it upon himself to show me around while I froze in a state of shock at the fact that this is a massive space.

There’s a hallway that connects the left and right sides of the club. The entire right section is the main area, where there are various round tables on the left and right side of a dancefloor with typical technicolor lights you’d expect from a night club with a DJ on a stage.

I heard Deee-Lite’s 1990 hit “Groove Is In The Heart” blast through the hallway as we walked from the main area to the smaller, more dedicated rooms on the left side of the club.

The first room has a 3’ x 3’ stage with a stripper pole in the middle around furniture all situated around it. The next room connected to it is even more interested. There are three mattresses that cover the back wall that Damon refers to the beds as used for “massages.” Opposite of the beds are rolled up towels, a few sex toys and condoms in a basket.

My mind is absolutely reeling at this point.

No phones or photography are allowed in any of the rooms so I spent the next 20 minutes in the hallway between the rooms feverishly writing in my phone before anything is even happening. More artistic black and white nude photos grace the blackened walls in the hallway.

I’m clearly out of place. I’m easily a good 20 years younger than the majority of people there. It doesn’t help that I’m a journalist trying to blend in the entire night. I was expecting the entire night to look over my shoulder to someone telling me that I don’t belong there and I need to leave.

Damon, meanwhile, stopped by periodically while helping out others to ask how I’m doing and how I felt about it. I told him that I’m ready for the night to start.

Being that the night is young and the 100-plus people inside have only had a few drinks, the atmosphere is not much different from a strip club or a nightclub. The first sign of actual swinging I see is two couples on the dance floor. A man from one couple kisses the other couple’s woman. Nothing crazy, but it reminded me of where I was.

A new couple walked onto the dance floor and I saw a man with his partner perk up. He walked over to the newly arrived woman of the couple to passionately kiss her and grip her neck while his partner looks on intrigued and turned on.

Okay. This is what I’m looking for.

At this point, I’m just waiting for “Uptown Funk” to drop on the dancefloor to make the audience get wasted so I have something to write about. I stared out onto the flashy dancefloor and sipped anxiously on my Coors Light I brought. I’ve given up my attempt at trying to blend in and I embrace being an outlier.

Out of nowhere, a woman I know materializes from the crowd.

She’s apparently been coming to events put on by the owners for over three years. She doesn’t full swap couples, only soft swap (girl-on-girl). “I love girls, but I could never marry one,” my friend says before introducing me to her long-time boyfriend, who is visiting the swingers club.

She walks off while her boyfriend and I bond over our mutual foreignness.

Before I can wonder if it will ever ramp up, I enter the pole room and a woman is viciously giving a man oral sex while a crowd of approximately 15 people are watching. Not with disgust or even critique. Just silent interest.

A curvy black leather seat on the opposite side of the room becomes my new hub while I watch everything in front of me while drinking from my Styrofoam cup I acquired on the way in.

I look around to see if anyone is as gobsmacked as me. Glancing to my right, I saw a woman staring directly at me while going down on her partner. I turn away and chuckle to myself as I’ve finally experienced pure voyeurism.

Nothing is popping up in the “massage” room yet and I’m not the only disappointed in finding that out.

Damon introduces me to one of the volunteer staff members named Christian. He is an ex-cop of five years who met James when he came to one of the events three or four years ago. What was most interesting was he told me is that a large amount of cops in the local area are swingers.

Christian said the top five types you will find at swingers events are cops, firefighters, nurses, military and teachers. Interesting enough, his wife is a nurse.

It’s wild to me to think that the most essential professions of the job force dabble in the lifestyle.

When a fifth grade teacher isn’t in class teaching children Biology, she’s wearing a revealing negligé at a secret swingers party.

It doesn’t take much longer until the pole room is full of 20-or-so people, with most of them having sex.

There are two couples on opposite sides of a woman on a large couch. The men are caressing her while the women in the couple are parting the woman’s legs are far as possible while a man is down on her using a bright pink light up sex toy on her.

As the screams intensified, the woman on the right side holding the woman’s right leg turns away. “I better move out of the way, if she starts squirting, I don’t want to get hit,” she said to a bystander while laughing.

This situation ended, but subsequently turned into a full-on orgy.

YOUNGBLOOD

After an hour or so, all the sex became common place. More naked bodies than those that are clothed. More passionate screams than casual conversation. While all this is going on, the music from the dance floor is near deafening. Topless women and near-naked men flood the dance floor.

It wasn’t long until the hallway between rooms was nearly full of naked and overtly-tan middle-aged white women. To think the people on the second floor hotels have no idea what is going on above their heads.

I expected there to be an overwhelming stench of latex and regret that would linger all night, but there were no real odd “smells” to report. Unless I was passing by a couple or two that were fucking on a zebra-printed couch, which is expected if you are in the near vicinity of body talking.

“Hey youngblood!” A woman calls for me across the room. I walk closer.

“Umm, me?” I say.

She looks intensely at me, “Yes.”

The wonder of when I was going to inadvertently get involved had ended. Being in a room full of sex is exciting, but I wasn’t trying to do anything with anyone. Especially a woman that’s currently being penetrated by two other people. I watched as she slid out of the grasp of a man holding her as another woman was working her wonder on her bottom half. I gracefully left the room before I got thrown into something I wasn’t trying to get involved in.

Besides a fiftysomething man that tried a few times to throw out casual quips at couples in mid-coitus to get recognized, I looked to be the only solo male in the offset rooms.

I talked in the hallway to a fresh-faced couple that has been in the lifestyle for almost two years. They are both 40 and he was the one that tried to get her into it. She showed some hesitance at first, but now it’s second nature. “

I’ve had sex with his wife,”; he points out another couple. “I mean, my wife has only had sex with five other men since she was introduced, but

I’ve easily done double that.” He told me almost confidentially while his bottomless wife talked to another couple.

The next hour played out with me swinging (no pun intended) from the pole room to the massage room to watch what would transpire next. More and more polyamorous sexual encounters. “Same ‘ol same ‘ol” at this point.

It started to die out where people are collecting themselves and leaving or transitioning to the dance floor. Sex with strangers eventually stops having staying power.

The DJ started playing “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond, which at that point, I don’t recall ever hearing. “You’ve never heard this song?”A woman shockingly asked me. After a few minutes, she is told by another woman that they have never heard the song. The woman tells her

partner, “these two have never heard of ‘Sweet Caroline,’ they are in their mid-twenties.”

 She stops and then says, “Fuck, we’re old.”

The last thing I witnessed before leaving was “Bad” by Wale playing while women danced salaciously to a song about not being able to love, but knowing how to fuck.

Take that for whatever you want.

WHY SWING?

Are swingers clubs for struggling marriages? Are they trying to rekindle the spirit of their marriage or can swingers start out and stay swingers throughout? There has to be an aura of jealousy and complacency from one partner over another.

Damon talks about his issue with jealously or going too far in the lifestyle.

“You work through it. We talk. We figure it out. You just gotta set your rules. After that, don’t break them. If you go over the line, then you gotta sit down and talk to them,” he tells me.

The law of diminishing returns would hold me back from ever going back. It could be different people each time, but it would be the same rigamarole for me. A dance floor filled with disconnected middle-aged people dancing to music they only just heard from one of their child’s Spotify playlists.

The overzealous guy going from couple to couple trying to reward himself for even getting to slightly touch every woman in the room. The shy couple that sit in the corner and might slightly round second base whenever they are sure no one is looking.

That isn’t a fault of the swingers lifestyle, it’s with any party lifestyle. If you are deep in it, the smallest variations make it worth coming out and if you are on the fence, not much is going toget you to be a returning visitor.

So much so that the next day felt odd and strange. As if I was some time traveler that was in present time and knew things that other “vanilla” people didn’t. Worries of approaching women felt trivial in a world where I saw couples meet another couple for the first time, then quickly move to foreplay and eventually full-blown sex.

It felt like I experienced a different world and I haven’t been the same since.

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About the Author

Kevin Tudor

Born and raised in the mean streets of Yukon, Oklahoma, Kevin is currently majoring in...

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About Red Dirt Report

Red Dirt Report was launched July 4, 2007 as an independent news website covering all manner of news, culture, entertainment and lifestyle stories that affect and interest Oklahoma readers and readers outside of our state. Our mission is to educate, promote civic engagement and discourse on public policy, government and politics. Our experienced journalists provided balanced in-depth coverage of news stories that affect Oklahomans. Our opinion/editorial stories come from a wide range of political view points. We carry out our mission by reporting, writing, and posting news and information. read more

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