Pick Me Up

Payton hobbles off the stage and sits down next to Tucker, who's trying to put two new guests at ease. "It's gonna sound sort of deep," Tucker says, "but I think our society has put so much of a taboo on sexuality that people are afraid to share in their fantasies."

That's definitely not the case at Radiance. A topless woman in her thirties is hoisted onto the bar. Scott, the club owner, enlists the help of a bartender. They place a lime wedge in her mouth, suck her nipples erect, sprinkle them with salt and suck them again. She rubs her hand down her belly toward her crotch. Somewhere along the way, they all take a shot of liquor. Then Scott kisses her and she embraces him.

"That's a drink I started when I first started the club," Scott says, "to try to break people in."

At the corner of the bar, women are comparing their breasts. A girl who has just purchased Janet Jackson-style nipple ornaments from the adjoining erotic shop wonders if Payton's implants are painful. Another woman sneers: "You had a breast implant!" Oddly enough, Payton's own mammary preference is leaning toward the natural tonight. She bends over toward a waitress in an unlaced brassiere -- a friend of hers -- and licks her nipple.

Tucker finds such friendships less threatening than those that might develop at regular clubs. "No matter how good a friend we are with other couples," he says, "at the end of the day, they are basically a prop for our fantasies."

Of course, not all fantasies can be fulfilled at Radiance. Although the club is racier than traditional swinger bars such as Wish's, sex is banned, and full nudity -- especially of males -- is discouraged. But the rules at many clubs are increasingly permissive. In line with a national trend, several in Houston now allow outright shagging (see "Swing Time").

Even so, younger Houstonian swingers often avoid them. Payton and Tucker, who have slept with only five couples in the past two years, opt for tamer fare. They prefer Radiance because flirting, going topless and smooching -- "soft swinging," as the culture calls it -- come with no expectations.

Many visitors to swing events such as the periodic Desirous Party at Encounters don't consider themselves swingers at all. On a Saturday night, a tanned chick's pert butt is hanging out of her shorts. She wears knee boots and a white wide-mesh top over a skimpy bra. "We don't swap at all," she says, bouncing to Dee-Lite next to her husband, "but we party."

"I think our generation is so open-door," she says, as a girl bends around to kiss her on the lips, "because you can say what you want and if someone comes up and they offend you…" A young man reaches around and kisses her and she loses her train of thought.

For all of the professed open-mindedness and disdain for labels, the chaos of even the tamer swing parties can take a toll. Toward the end of the night, a buxom redhead standing at the bar with her husband kisses my female companion. The woman literally drags her toward the dance floor. I tug her back -- only because we have to hit another club before it closes. My friend gently explains why dancing is out. "I think you're beautiful," she adds. But the woman flees. As we walk out of the club into the rain, she's standing outside, smoking a cigarette and crying.

That kind of drama is exactly what Peter and Cherie want to avoid. Even so, their post-margarita romp -- reprised the next morning and that afternoon at a gas station -- has inspired them to take a cautious plunge into the world of swingers.

They show up on Friday at the Old Heidelberg, a German bar on Fountainview that's packed with the fans of a swinging German lounge singer in a sequined miniskirt. Peter walks in wearing twisted plastic goth earrings and a Mohawk. He sits with Cherie at a small table, surrounded by frat boys, WWII vets and hip-hoppers in J. Lo glasses. Nobody pays the couple heed, except a boisterous, swinger-friendly single guy.

"Yes, I'd like to meet somebody," the 30-year-old says casually. "Would I like to do it forever? No. But at the moment, yes. I'm pretty sure that maybe five years from now I'll change my mind and I'll hate everybody here."

Single guy recently broke up with his girlfriend of two years. She told him that she didn't like the idea of his sleeping around. Perhaps aware that he's not the best cultural ambassador, he introduces Peter and Cherie to a middle-aged couple who have been dating since January and swinging since June. Barry, who sounds and looks like Barry White, asks why they're interested in the lifestyle.

"We want to do something different," Peter says. "The excitement. We're both very sexual beings. Part of that is being able to talk to each other and say, 'Hey, there's something I want to try.' "

Barry thinks extreme openness allows swingers to grow closer to each other. "Intimacy literally means Into me, you see, right? So if we're intimate with each other, we look inside each other," he theorizes as his girlfriend nods. "So this lifestyle keeps reaffirming that we're committed."