It was 2AM, we were playfully tipsy and on our way home when from the streetcar window I spotted a small gathering forming outside of Wicked, Queen West’s notorious swingers club. It’s somewhere I had walked by hundreds of times with my dog in the daytime and always wondered, “Are there people inside fucking right now? ALL OVER THE PLACE?” Well, curiousity got the better of me and I turned to my man,
“Should we check it out?”
“Sure.” And with that we dinged the driver to let us out and scampered across the street.

We carefully scoped the high traffic area, god forbid we run into a colleague; the coast seemed clear. We ducked in and quickly fumbled through our wallets, laying down the steep $60 cover.

Giggling excitedly, we climbed up the stairs to the sinful second floor. We were told to take off our clothes and wear only a towel. Okay…so we nervously stripped down and shoved our stuff in a locker. Everyone around us seemed so laissez faire about their dick hanging out or just casually leaning on the bar chatting, with their bare tits just, well, there to be stared at. Some girls wore pumps and panties, while others nothing at all. I went for the towel/barefoot look and pretended to be at the spa.

We got a drink, took a seat and couldn’t help but wonder, whose remnants might we be sitting on? Hmm. Drink up.

A show began to unfold in front of us. A man had removed his towel and confidently stretched out on a massage table, while a forty-something woman began to oil him up and massage him down. It began with the back, moved south to the legs and then WOAH, she began to give him a handjob right there. I crunched on my ice cubes, fiddled with my straw and watched his manhood grow tall. Just when I thought he would blow his load, and it would quite possibly shoot in my eye, he got up and they both walked to an area I couldn’t see. Where were they going? Getting a little excited myself, I turned to my bf and motioned that we follow.

Oh boy, were we in for a surprise. Just around the corner, we were met with about twenty people fucking, in all sorts of positions; mounds, groups and chains. Couples, side by side, moaning, with ankles jerking in the air, a man’s ass thrusting continuously, a woman riding herself into ecstasy while some other dude waved his cock around her face, a couple lazily lying numb post orgasm. Within thirty seconds, I saw more spread legs and waving tongues than any porn could ever hope to offer. It was intense and it felt weird to just watch, but other people were doing it, so we figured it was okay, if not, encouraged.

Soon we found ourselves groping one another, our motion in synch with the cries and groans echoing behind us. It was like Eyes Wide Shut, and the bodies were tight, sculpted and beautiful. We awkwardly shuffled down into, I guess, an elevated bed cubby and felt comfortable enough to remove our towels. As I bent down to put his cock in my mouth, a crowd began to form around us. The exhibitionist in me began to enjoy the attention, and pretty soon, I worked up the courage to mount him and slowly gyrate, locking eyes with the onlookers. Where was I? What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t even really drunk! It was all happening kind of quickly, and the crowd was moving in. It was very odd to ride him, rub my clit and cry out while couples stood inches away from me, fondling one another or tipping their head to get a better look at my parts.

Nope. I couldn’t cum like this. Or at least, not now. So we stopped our little show, pre-orgasm and decided to instead, explore other corners of Wicked. We coiled up another set of stairs, to a narrow hallway with dim red lighting. I leaned back on some kind of table and a girl’s head slammed into my ass as she was being pummeled by a 6ft5, 230 lb dude.

“Ugh, sorry.” I quickly twisted the other way, so she would have more room to bounce around.

It was so crowded. Imagine a tightly packed subway, except everyone has no clothes on and is either sucking or fucking their neighbour. There were a lot of threesomes and foursomes. Who were these people? I imagined them in the daytime, working on spreadsheets in cubicles chit-chatting about the latest donut deal at Tim Hortons. Oh what their colleagues didn’t know. Women were getting pounded from behind while also blowing some other dude, who was diddling some other girl, who was watching a couple shag at ferocious speed. It was animalistic, it was erotic, it was dirrrrty, and it turned me on.

We stayed for awhile, just soaking it all up. Hey, it’s good masturbation material…..a year later.

Oh, I should mention the swing. Yes, there was one and in it was a girl who seemed to be about ninety pounds, spread open and begging for attention from the hairy Soprano-like dudes that surrounded her. We didn’t try that out but did sit on the balcony to have a smoke with other towel clad guests.

On our way back down to the locker, we noticed that they had ordered dozens of pizzas. Awesome, we were hungry! We snacked on a slice of pepperoni and watched a dude slap a condom on and stroke himself. Then we got dressed, walked out into the night and laughed hysterically at what we had just done.

And that was our crazy night at Wicked.

~ Jane Doe