My classroom was on the first floor of the elementary building - just a staircase away from Gary. Being polite means keeping one's mouth shut.Īnd so I, the newly minted Mooch Lundquist, became a third grader at Delaware Township School. But social norms dictate that we do not insert ourselves into other people's personal lives. No one seemed to care that my school records displayed a different name or that Gary was not my legal guardian. In 1976 no one seemed to question any of this. Now, with the flick of a pen, I was Mooch (a nickname) Lundquist, daughter of Gary, new student at his out-of-state school. Since birth, I had been Michelle Brechbill. This article originally appeared on and has been republished here with permission.In Michelle Stevens' powerful, just-published memoir, Scared Selfless, she shares how she overcame horrendous child sexual abuse and mental illness to lead a satisfying and happy life as a successful psychologist, wife and mother. I jumped on top, and during the time were we in there, a steady stream of people approached to try and join or just watch.įor me, I wasn’t particularly turned on by that, but wasn’t bothered either as obviously it came with the territory.Īfter we got dressed and left, we agreed we were glad we went (and came), but did it more for a good story than it being something either of us were really into.Įvery person and couple has their own preferences and fetishes, and if exploring with others is your thing, it’s definitely worth checking out. My partner and I saw a small, empty room containing one small bed and looked at each other and shrugged. Props like whips and paddles decorated the rooms, and there were attachments against some walls to tie someone up with. Several open yet separate rooms had various beds and couches scattered about, and most were occupied with couples having sex or several people tangled up in each other. It was more humorous than sexy, and everyone seemed to be trying really hard to look natural and comfortable.Īs we finished our drinks, a dancer entered and cleared the room to perform a striptease on the pole.Īn older man loudly whooped and yelled throughout the entire performance, but it wasn’t anything crazy and we decided we wanted to go downstairs to see more. Several other couples were hanging around the bar, and within moments, a woman was bent over and being spanked. Several screens showed various porn movies, there was a stripper pole in the middle of the room, and the bartender was in fishnets and underwear. We headed to the bar to have a glass or two of champagne first and take in the scene. Other than that, the jacuzzi, outdoor terrace and play room were our proverbial oyster.
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After climbing three flights of red carpeted stairs, were reached the entrance where we were told the house rules: simply approach others you’re interested in, but if they put up a palm, it signals “no”, and vice versa.
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I put on a new set of Agent Provocateur lingerie and sent a selfie to my BFF (who is a psychologist and was also super curious to hear about our experience) before we grabbed a bottle of champagne and hopped in an Uber - the club is BYOB, but there’s a bar you bring your alcohol to so a bartender can serve it to you.Īs soon as we arrived, we were buzzing. The Friday finally rolled around, and I had a glass of wine while getting ready for the evening. We weren’t up for letting others join in though, and agreed if it was something either of us wanted to do in the moment, we could talk about it afterwards and go back for another visit to possibly pursue. We love visiting strip clubs together (who doesn’t love a gorgeous woman dancing around?) so we knew we’d be comfortable with nudity, but laid out a few ground rules before we went.įor us, we decided if we felt like it, we would be game to have sex in front of others. We didn’t necessarily go with the intention of swinging, swapping partners or even “playing” (as the site described) with others - we were just curious and keen to explore something sexually new.