Tuesday, 21 May 2013

Day 15 PV

A reflection on my first sex party as a single, and how it compared with going in a couple.

I'm keeping busy, so busy that I frequently feel exhausted and want nothing more than to crawl into bed. I fall asleep in inappropriate places - the bus, work, college. One important thing I do is go to a private sex party held in honour of Ava's birthday. Me and Ela go.

We've been there before. It's a penthouse suite of a hotel near the river with a splendid view over train tracks. A mutual friend holds regular play parties there. The other time I went was with Virgil several years ago. We refused subsequent invitations because usually the guestlist contains too many strangers from swinging sites. However, Ava and Barney have organised the guestlist for this party, and all the guests are handpicked.

This play party is my first without Virgil. It's been planned for ages, since way before the break-up. I feel a sense of regret. I wonder why in the years we were together I didn't go out alone.

Attending sex parties as a couple has as many disadvantages as advantages. The advantages are mostly for the men: single men are not usually welcome at sex parties, and in the play that happens women tend to set the agenda and make the approaches. Some couples play well with others but Virgil and I rarely fancied the same people. I tended to go for men he found too big and masculine. He likes pretty boys like himself. I tend not to be attracted to women at play parties. Actually, for someone who used to be 100% bisexual I'm now pretty straight... I haven't been attracted to another woman for ages.

Taking one for the team is the term we used for the situation in which one of us ended up joining in for the sake of the other or where one member of the other couple were of more interest to us than their partner. Eventually Virgil and I decided that taking one for the team was not a good thing and started to prioritise playing alone.

Except then there's competitiveness and sneaking looks to see if your partner's having a better time than you are. It's not only me who does this. Several friends confess to it too, and it's not sexy. Virgil and I agree that at sex parties the women tend generally to be more attractive than the men. Nice for Virgil, not so great for me.

With Virgil at play parties I often felt self-conscious. I knew and had internalised his critical eye, anticipating his comments and judgement on the men in the room. At a sex party this is a deadly thing to do. Sex parties are not the same as dating: sometimes there are real hotties there, mostly it's just ok-looking people who are friendly and up for having sex with you. Sexual prowess and compatibility have nothing to do with good looks.

At the risk of sounding awful I will say this: at a sex party you must lower your aesthetic standards as well as your inhibitions. If you place too much emphasis on physical attraction you will end up on the sidelines and that's not the point of going to a sex party at all.

In hindsight I see how close Virgil and I held each other, or probably how closely I held on to him. It was because of jealousy. The idea of Virgil escorting Sarah or Voracious D to a sex party made me feel rigid and flushed with jealousy. It's a shame. I think it's a pretty healthy thing.

The way sexual arousal comes and goes at sex parties is probably trickier for men to negotiate than women. Women are supposed to come as often as possible if they can, but men have to control themselves while staying hard and ready for action. Virgil pretty much depended on recreational drugs for this. He'd come too fast otherwise.

For me, recreational drugs are good for sex in a more private context but at a sex party I prefer not to take them. I find it much easier to come when I'm sober (for some women it's different, I know) and being high can detract from the excitement. However, I somehow couldn't be around Virgil on drugs without wanting to take them myself.

So being a free agent at a sex party felt good. I played with a couple of guys to begin with. The first was a Belgian with an enormous cock. I could hardly get my hand around it. He was shorter than me and we kissed and undressed each other standing up.

In this situation the height difference was a bonus. I could feel his cock pushing up at the sensitive places around my labia and clit. I felt increasingly horny and thought about how it would feel to let him fuck me standing there while my cunt dripped juices down my thighs. With my height I would be able to control how much of his cock he could get into me (I was wary of his size to be honest and didn't at all fancy being shafted with it).

The mistake was moving the play to a nearby bed, at which point I discovered that he didn't use his hands in a way I liked at all. I stopped him and said: "Slowly and gently please." He apologised but returned within seconds to his piston-fingered ways. Fortunately another man joined us at this point and I turned my attentions to him, not great party etiquette but honestly it's boring having to repeat oneself.

Unfortunately the next man was worse. He had a rough, boyish sexuality, grabbing me really hard and pulling me down on top of him. (Ela told me later that she had quite enjoyed his style, but she has a fetish for rough sex and she did say that she broke it off in the end because she got sore.) To me this signals incompetence and thoughtlessness: I take nothing about strangers for granted. If I suck someone or touch them I look for feedback on what they enjoy. I like to ask and I like to be told what feels good.

Without asking, the rough young fuck pulled a condom over his dick and got me to sit on top of him. Weirdly I went along with it but as his cock pushed into me I realised that I wasn't wet enough. Fortunately at that moment some friends of mine arrived so I (gently) broke things off and made my escape.

By that time everyone was playing but I didn't want to break in. I hung out in the kitchenette slightly disconsolately and was rescued by Barney, Ava's lovely boyfriend. Barney's sexy and I had been hoping to play with him. "What's wrong?" he asked. "That boy was really rough." I said, "I'm quite sensitive. I had to escape."

Barney pressed me up against the counter and let our bodies settle together. "Did he make you sore?" We kissed while his fingers moved expertly between my legs. Coming didn't take long after that. I told him it was going to happen. He told me to come for him, which is a nice thing to say, and I did, gasping and shaking against him as we stood. We hugged for a minute afterwards, and then Barney continued on his rounds. He took his hostly duties seriously.

That was the best bit of the night and the best memory from it too.

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