There are the straight women, the bi-curious women, the bisexual women, and then there are them: the fake bisexual women

The world of swinging is full of surprises, some beautiful, some less so. If you are a bisexual woman and can’t wait to throw yourself into the arms of another woman, sharpen your eyesight because not all that glitters is gold. There are so many, so many of them, the She who play a part pretending to be what they are not.

Definition of bisexual

So explains
Treccani
: Of a person sexually attracted to both sexes . Very simple, no? It doesn’t go around it, it’s not a vague definition. On the contrary, in a few words he perfectly hits the crux of the matter. “Sexually attracted” that is, it does not say “wanting to go shopping together or eat ice cream.” It means, holy patience, being struck by a person of the same sex as you and wanting nothing more than to fuck them together. This mechanism works with both sexes, always, forever, and for the rest of your life. Because you don’t change, at least not so radically. Have you ever heard someone who was gay and now is not? I do not, then for goodness sake some rare case may even exist (let me know I am like St. Thomas).

Therefore, occasionally kissing another woman, or even licking her between the legs, does not make you bisexual. Unless you do it with extreme pleasure, being surprised primarily at yourself. However, it would be abnormal to arrive in adulthood and suddenly discover that the vagina all in all turns you on. It is not impossible but it is unlikely. That is, it’s like saying, “I don’t know how to swim but I fell in the water and found out I could.” Unlikely, don’t you think? You are much more likely to drown than to stay afloat.

Now it is not my intention to make a list of the bells and whistles that should let you know your sexual inclination (here maybe I’ll do a nice article on it). I’ll just tell you for sure that bisexual you are born with it and you realize it pretty early. I, for example, had the first signs when I was 10 years old, then of course I became really aware of it later, around adolescence.

Let me open a parenthesis on labels . I understand that the general trend is not to label, a counter-sense considering the number of terms that have emerged lately just in an attempt to define our sexuality. I think naming what we are is a necessity that arises, more than anything else, from the need to understand. To bring clarity within ourselves, to people who are close to us and to those who are different from us. I don’t find anything wrong with defining myself within a category, but I completely understand those who just don’t want to be categorized in one way rather than another.

The bitter discovery

We took our first steps into this world for a variety of reasons including my bisexuality. Initially we only attended (naive) Clubs and lived under the illusion that most women were really bisexual. I remember that the first approach with couples was always punctuated by the same question: are you also bisexual? Almost everyone answered yes. The ads on the various sites devoted to the topic were also very clear. Almost always in the description of Her, the box “bisexual” was checked. I was delighted, I knew the world was full of bisexual women but I didn’t think so many. I was not the only one then who was happily engaged but with a passion for my own sex! It was done. All that was needed was to choose who to play with and the evening would be an assured success. Um…it didn’t go exactly like that.

In the early days my boyfriend and I never did full swapping, if you want to read about our “first time” you can find our
here the story
.

We were always looking for a couple to let me play with the other woman. I had come to think that most couples did swinging to fulfill their partners’ bisexual fantasies. I could never have thought of a more abnormal shit than that, but I didn’t realize it until later.

With the accumulation of nights gone wrong, I slowly took note that unfortunately the environment was full of fake bisexuals. I am not speaking in derogatory terms of course, everyone does what they want and they have good reasons for doing what they do. They piss me off, though.

It’s not like we’re on the set of a porn movie! You don’t get paid to play a part, and it is depressing to see a forcing, especially in this context. If then, like me, you are really interested in women, it all becomes sadly pathetic.

The little theater

STEP 1

More or less every attempt to have fun was carried out in the same way. The evening began in the club with a dose of alcohol fit for a newborn baby. And here let me open a parenthesis: cocktails in clubs are always and inexorably crap, wine I don’t even try, and bubbles we draw a veil over. You always have a couple of free consumptions, though! I say, but fuck let me pay them but let me drink in God’s grace. If I don’t drink well I aim to at least get drunk, just enough to spice up the evening. Macché…the amount of Gin they put in a cocktail is ridiculous so before you get drunk you should gobble down so much Soda that you will be nauseous.

STEP 2

We would look around to study the local wildlife. Once we spotted prey, we would make sure to seclude ourselves in a room dedicated to couples. Depending on the venue, a door would be closed or a curtain drawn, so couples could have their privacy. At that time, as an Italian club we practically always chose the
Krystal Club
. To this day I recommend it as one of the very few clubs worth visiting.

The rooms were several and always very clean. It was not difficult to find a free bed, except on super-crowded evenings but they were exceptions.

I smile thinking about how my fiancé and I used to be. We were just doing what I would trivially call “four-way things.” Not one more, not one less.

STEP 3

Action was taken, punctually opened by the women. Finally, my moment.

I was looking forward to caressing the soft skin of that beautiful creature in front of me. I couldn’t wait to kiss her, undress her, feel her skin against mine. I imagined that I had so much time on my hands, that I would do everything with absolute calm. I thought we would start gradually and then go crazy and enjoy each other. In all of this I totally ignored the presence of the other man, sometimes even that of my boyfriend. I didn’t need the men, it was time for the women, and what the fuck leave us alone! Let us play in peace, as and as much as we want. I thought these were all shared thoughts between me and the other woman but obviously I was wrong.