It started with a kiss…
Like all good stories, it started with a kiss.
Well, maybe not quite but it’s a good place to start. We’re in Fuerteventura, a darkened hotel disco and a woman we met that very day is pushing my wife against the wall. She’s kissing her. Passionately exploring in a hidden corner, away from prying eyes.
My brain explodes. How could she do this to me? How could my wife let this happen? Where is this going?
Hang on, you might suggest. Aren’t you Mr H from the bed hoppers? You know, the dashing, sexy and charming (my words, not yours) co-host of the UK’s most well known swinging podcast and the same chap that appeared on a Channel 4 documentary about the lifestyle?
Yep. That’s me. It’s a fair few years ago, mind. I think we’ve grown and changed a great deal in that time. But it was certainly a formative moment that I will never forget.
Mrs H and I had decided to head to the island for a break. It had been a tough year. My mother had recently passed away - and we’d both agreed that we needed to live for the moment. Away from children, pets and commitments.
The hotel was a quiet affair. With a dedicated pool for adults, a warm breeze and a constant supply of cocktails. We’d settled in nicely - observing the sights and sounds as we lazily read our books in the sun.
Across the pool, we’d spied a young couple applying liberal amounts of sun cream. Their massaging of oils didn’t quite end up in them having sex but it was bloody close (not that the hotel would have allowed it). We laughed between ourselves - calling them ‘swingers’, such was their open display of passion.
We knew a little about swingers. But we’d never actually met any. We’d spent many an evening enjoying Playboy’s Swing on the television. Not for educational purposes though. Mostly for the curious mix of drama (Mrs H loves it when it goes wrong) and sex. And we now called anyone who has showing such liberal displays of affection swingers.
We avoided the couple for fear of being dragged into their sordid activities and decided to take a long walk along the beach. Many hours later and we returned to one of the hotel bars to refresh ourselves. What do you know, the ‘swinging’ couple noticed us and pulled up a seat.
It transpired that they’d only known each other for a week - and had simply decided to head on holiday together. No hints of swinging or naughtiness interrupted the pleasant conversation. We all soon decided that we should grab a bite to eat together, while the wine and cocktails continued to flow.
Fast forward a few hours and we’ve all indulged in a few drinks. We’re on our way to the hotel disco and, in a quiet moment, the lady of the pair tries to kiss me. I’m shocked. I turn away from the kiss. I don’t want to cheat on my partner. Nothing is said and we move on with our journey.
We all enter the disco. It’s dark, sparsely populated and seems to only play three songs. If it helps, I think one of them might have been Daft Punk’s excellent Get Lucky. If you want to recreate the mood, chuck it on now. We’re all dancing around in the style of British people who have probably had too much to drink. I chat to the guy for a moment and notice that my wife is missing. I spin around and see that the woman has pushed her against the wall and is making out with her.
As we know, my reaction to this isn’t good. Aren’t there supposed to be rules about this sort of thing? Shouldn’t someone have asked before this happened? Also, what the actual fuck?
Before I know it, Mrs H and I are intwined. Not in passion but in perhaps one of the biggest arguments of our lives. We head back to our hotel room and continue the difficult words well into the early hours of the morning. There are tears, hurtful words and a level of honesty on our feelings that were only fuelled by the drinks we had consumed.
As the sun rose, we began to realise that we hadn’t only made it through the night but that we’d come to some decisions about the course of our lives. We’d agreed that we were not only more in love with each other than ever, but that we were preparing to explore the curious world of non monogamy. I had some research to do.
