Adventures of Mitzi : The Beginning

Mitzcat

Meow, and welcome to the Adventures of Mitzi.


Mitzi means little kitty, but if you think this story will be only about naughty pussy stuff, you'll be sadly disappointed.


I'll start by introducing myself. I'm of course Mitzi, a German, smooth-shaven and blonde, as my swinger profile states.


Blonde jokes aside (and they do have some relevance here), I am married to a remarkable man who introduced me to this truly different world only after we married.


Before that though, I was just a normal Bavarian Mädchen (girl), not realizing that such a lifestyle was even remotely possible. Of course, I had read the story of "Emmanuel" and would occasionally fantasize of such erotic scenarios, but as real life -- never!


Fast forward to today: Just last week, at our nearby swinger's club, four young men (in their twenties), boys really, did me one right after another in a darkened room behind closed swinger-club curtains. Honestly, each lasted no more than two minutes, at most, which we can all agree is not earth-shattering sex, but was highly amusing to someone my age.


But I'll regress back to the beginning: My new life in Spain started twelve years ago after having had enough of the German weather and the ever climbing restaurant and food prices. My thoughts were, a house with walled garden, private terrace and deep-blue pool would be all the more lovely under the hot Spanish sun. And keeping in mind, Spanish food being both delicious and cheap, my then husband and I did precisely that -- we moved.


Sadly though, one year on, my dear husband of 27 years passed away. I was in mourning; lonely, lost and alone.


That's when a girlfriend helped me create my first Tinder account. I soon met a few Tinder men, which (of course) led to sex, and mainly with English and French men living also here, but who were secretly married, but failed to find the importance of mentioning this point. Of course, I would have gingerly fucked them anyway had I'd known. After all, I was young, single and especially horny; but still I was hoping to find a partner.


Then one fine Tinder day, I came across a man with beautiful profile picture. I swiped right and wrote him. He wrote back and I found him immediately interesting. He could chat about anything. He was well-travelled in the world, educated and cultured in people, music, fine art and literature. And he had internet manners. In the nine months of communicating, he never once talked about sex or in some crude way alluded to it. Not even the infamous dick pic!


There was one glaring problem: he was American.


I joked to my fellow girlfriends that I was having an ongoing Tinder romance with what I deemed, a "prude American". Of course they all laughed, as did I.


My new friend asked if he could visit me so we could get to know one another more personally. I said yes, I'd like that. So after days of anticipation, he walked out of the Arrivals Hall and we both stared in each other's eyes. Much later he confessed to me, that I looked like a little pretty girl waiting her her parents. The only thing missing, he said, was a teddy bear hanging from my tiny hand.


I thought him handsome, much better than his Tinder picture. And from that very day onward, we have been together. It was only months later that he went down on one knee in a small Spanish bar and proposed while holding out a beautiful diamond ring. I said yes, and the bar broke out in a loud applause. This became our favorite little bar and whenever we need a boost, we go there.


Somehow, and in some way, and much later, the topic of swinging came up. I don't know how, or even remember why, but clever him got me interested in it -- or was it just my natural Mitzi curiosity? We both were very ignorant on the subject, although he had lived with younger women and had encouraged them to experience life, including their sexual one. Only a very confident man could do that. And of course, he was.


I told him that I didn't think that I could bear to see him with someone else, so he graciously suggested that only I should experiment and that he was happy to have only me.


This started my mind racing. Did he really love me? Would he be hurt? Would our relationship fall apart? And could I even do such a thing? For months I agonized between Mitzi curiosity and womanly doubt, but then one warm evening, after a couple glasses of wine at our favorite little bar, he convinced me that we should visit the swinger's club located in our very own town.


On a Saturday evening, I wore a black cocktail dress with sexy lingerie and stockings underneath. He looked remarkably handsome in a casual black suit, open collared black silk shirt and expensive gold watch. I was the nervous one. So after a short taxi ride, we were ringing swinger clubs' doorbell, only to find out it opened a couple hours later. Off to our favorite little bar (luckily the taxi had waited). A few drinks, and we went racing back.


Once inside, we sat on a couch in the dimly lit lounge area; I a quiet and shy Mitzi and him, with drink in hand, chatting to the couple beside us like we were at some family gathering. Of course, I wasn't oblivious to the many single men eyeing me up and down, so I resorted to my secret Mitzi weapon of eyeing them right back.


Soon, a good looking Danish man came over, introduced himself and asked to sit on the couch opposite of us. We all chit-chatted a bit and then he asked if I have seen the rest of the club. I said no. So he asked hubby if he could borrow me for a bit and show me around. Hubby immediately said no problem, but joked he'd have to leave a deposit. Everyone, including our neighbors laughed. The ice had been broken, so off I went into the realm of the swinging world.


Sadly, my good looking Danish man couldn't get it up and so my first foray into this strange, but curious culture ended in disappointment. But when one door closes, another opens, and so it did as the handsome Argentinian strolled over. Without any chit-chat (or deposit) he took my hand and we disappeared into the dark recesses of the swinger club. I got fucked, and admit, fucked good. The Argentinian loved my sexy lingerie and the fact that I kept my little red ankle boots on the whole time. My curiosity had become reality. I felt like Emmanuel.


Weeks passed, and one day I walked into my dressing room at home and noticed in a row of boots on one particular shelf, a printed label under those little red ankle boots reading "Special Argentinian Boots". My husband, you see, is a bit of a jokester, and for that I love him.


My next step in my Emmanuel-isation, was joining this swinger's website. My life's mantra has always been "When so - Then so", meaning to do things at their fullest. So I joined right away as a VIP member. Hubby helped in writing my profile and also took the requisite pictures. I Mitzi-posed.


My profile stated that I wanted to meet only Large-Size men, meaning well-endowed (When so - Then so). And I soon started getting email messages, but noticed only from other VIP members. I thought about this for a while and decided then-and-there that each morning, as a VIP member, I would email any class of member that read my profile. This, I decided, would enhance my meeting possibilities. Of course many viewers were from outside my area, some from Australia, Sri Lanka, Malta, Cypress, Great Britain, South America and hubby's strange North American continent. Each got a thank you message, including the nearby members and especially those nearby that matched my profile (they got a Mitzi mail).


From the beginning, I made a conscious decision to meet only at our home, and only when my husband was present. I had safety concerns. My husband encourages me, but he does not desire to participate or watch. I am alone in the bedroom, and feel safe and relaxed. I guess this makes me a hotwife, but I consider myself foremost just a wife. Hot, is so subjective.


My very first home meet was with a handsome Spanish man of 45 years, with a large thick cock. It was, after all, what I've been advertising for. So with my sexy lingerie on, we did it in the bedroom. And after fifteen minutes he jumps from the bed and congratulates himself like he just scored the winning goal for Barcelona. I, on the other hand, found it totally boring.


With a handsome husband that makes me easily orgasm (multiply), my first home meet had me re-evaluating if swinging was really worth it. Did this happen to Emmanuel. I also still had my worries that hubby would want his own "action" outside our relationship, or the fact that this may hurt him, or if our marriage would suffer. But he reenforced things and encouraged me to press on, saying it was like an interview process looking for a couple of good playmates. He also added that whenever I wanted to quit, we could return to our more traditional lifestyle. So as a good Mitzi, I soldiered on.


Our life together has always been interesting. Hubby is strong, my rock, and he always protects me. He cheerfully does housework, carries all the heavy things, opens my car door, and always holds my hand, everywhere. Life with him is an adventure: picnics in the park, trying new restaurants, window shopping, the occasional nude beach, a walk on the seaside and did I mention, he makes the best margaritas. I cook for us, it's my passion. Healthy food from basic ingredients and fresh produce from the Spanish outdoor markets. And, of course, he loves me for it.


To date, we've explored other swinger clubs in nearby cities. One particular club is very elegant and has an interior to die for. It's huge and well visited on almost any day. Another is in a dilapidated industrial area, but has a large outdoor pool. Inside though, it's too dark to use my flirty Mitzi eye-contact. I know you're waiting for me to describe my experiences in each club, but first more about my home meets are needed.


We have a Google Nest video system in our bedroom. It's the greatest and records to the Google Cloud, which can be simultaneously broadcast via Chromecast to a large TV on the bedroom wall. This allows you to see yourself in action from a different angle (if... opening your eyes). And later it can be downloaded and edited on our mobile (visitors agree beforehand). Audio is recorded too, especially loud moaning! The Google Nest records under all lighting conditions, including low light and complete darkness. This is useful since the light bulbs in our bedroom lamps are WiFi-connected and can change color (red is my favorite), brightness and contrast via a smartphone app.


My second meet was with the handsome Argentinian (55) from the club. If you're lucky enough to see the video, notice how my feet wiggle when he holds it deep inside.


Sometimes, things surprise you, and that was the case of the 28 year old from a nearby town (yes, you're reading that correctly -- 28 year's old)! His profile proclaimed 19 centimeters (7.5 inches for you UK/Australian/USA people). I thought "oh my" an inexperienced young boy!


This sweet thing arrived carrying two bottles of white wine, just what I drink. And boy was I wrong, to-date he's been the most creative meet yet. First, he sat back nonchalant on our bed sipping wine while I gave him my best blow job. Then the real action began. It started with the bottle of lubricant he spied on my nightstand. Helping himself, he sensually rubbed in on my behind while I was in my favorite Doggystyle position. Then he took my leather flogger from the wall and flayed my ass in a not too hard, but not too soft manner. He then rubbed more lubricant in the right spot between my legs. And then, very sensually inserted the small plug spied also on my nightstand (Google Nest dutifully picking up my moan). Only then did he put that 19 centimeters inside me, slowly at first and then faster, with more power. I moaned and rocked back and forth; what else could a Mitzi girl do? Afterwards, we drank wine in the winter garden (hubby too), until I slinked like a Mitzicat back to the bedroom for another round. Of course the young man followed.


My next meet was a 46 year old Spanish guy. Very nice and polite. His profile pictures showed him comparing his thing to a water bottle, and it was almost a perfect match! During pillow talk later, he told me about his recent divorce and all I could think about is how stupid his ex-wife must be. Recently, he sent me a text telling me he has vacation and will come by soon. Mitzi can hardly wait.


Hubby and I have a few ticks together: we always kiss in an elevator, we always look directly in each other's eyes when clinking glasses and I always put my hand lovingly on his leg while he drives. We love each other, just as if I am still that little girl waiting in the airport and he the handsome man walking towards me.


So, I promised to tell about our experiences at two of the clubs just 40 minutes away from us. We've been to each only once. The first was the very elegant and high-end club with the interior to die for. Nothing happened that night with other attendees, but it was crowded and I had a good time with my husband. What I did not like, at all, was the people fucking in the chill-out lounge. I was having a drink with hubby and had this big fat ass in my face. Now, nothing against a fat ass, but please, not in the lounge when plenty of theme-decorated rooms, pools and play areas abound. Maybe it's not only the Americans that are prude.


The other club, the one in the dumpy industrial zone, was not anywhere near as elegant, in fact it was tatty, but we had good fun there. First with hubby alone in a dark private room with rotating colored lights, next with a man who stalked me around the club until I finally gave in (I love giving in), then with a man in the couples area (another erection difficulty) and finally with three young guys petting me in the hot tub while hubby sat in the warm bubbling water across from us grinning.


There have been more home meets between club visits and it seems I have vacuumed up (hoovered, for some of you) all the handsome large and very large men in a 30 kilometer radius. I must now move to Australia (just joking). Most meets were uninspiring, a few were good and a couple were mind blowing.


The only bad experience in my endeavor to emulate Emmanuel, and it wasn't all that tragic, was a man whose profile showed a picture of what could be Jason Statham, the actor. Did Jason have a summer house near me? I was hoping. So I made a date. Ding dong, ding dong, Jason Statham was at our door! Excitedly, I opened the door, only to find a short baldheaded man with an exceptional paunch belly. I asked politely what he wanted, suspecting Amazon or a neighbor in need. He said, I'm from the swinger website and am here for our date. I smiled my best Mitzi smile and politely declined, asking him where Jason Statham was. He promptly departed, leaving my Jason Statham fantasy evaporating on our doorstep.


I have a new fantasy now. One that is much more grounded and may work out. I hope. Pulp is reforming and due to tour in 2023. I saw Pulp at the Reading festival in 2011 and find the lead singer very sexy. Can Mitzi get a backstage pass?


The question I get most from men is if my husband is a cuckold. I find that interesting, and at the same time a bit comical. Men, so it seems, want to always show their dominance and become the pack leader (but in reality, we all know that's the woman's job) and what better place than in the bedroom. I'll quicky run off some things I know about hubby. When I found him, he was retired at an early age. He was part of a group called The Activity, which selects it's very limited members from elite groups. Hubby had assignments all over the world. Jumps from all manners of military aircraft from commercial passenger height to treetop level. Knows submarine hatches intimately. To list his skill sets would be exhausting, but he washes dishes like an Olympian, and that's all I care about. So, no, not a cuckold, sorry guys 😺.


Our love is travel. At least me, when not swinging. We are on our second Vantare H3-45, the first used touring the USA years ago and the second touring Europe. We spent one year on the road in the magnificent UK, Jeep trustfully towed behind. But we have a different travel itinerary now, visiting grandchildren. I have one and hubby has "almost" three. A swinging Mitzi grandma, that's me!


I want to talk a little about latex. For those VIP members with access to my profile photos, you can see me in my rubber corset and rubber stockings. Sexy, and naughty, but a pain-in-the-ass to put on! My hubby convinced me to purchase them by saying they will assist me in feeling naughtier. And also that at my age, give me a distinct advantage in capturing the attention of the men in my sights. How adorable he is; a real charmer I might add. I "mecker" (grumble) each and every time he helps me put them on. And as a punishment, I make him vacuum the talcum powder scattered around the floor. Pain-in-the-ass. So it's a very rare occasion that they are worn.


This brings me to the conclusion of the "Adventures of Mitzi: The Beginning". Undoubtedly, more adventures will follow, but I'm still not sure it will be what you want to hear. I may resort back to being the mild-mannered Bavarian Hausfrau of yesteryear. We'll see.


So Bye, for now!

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