My First Time At An Orgy

firstorgy- TFL

 

When a friend had mentioned she’d been to sex parties, I knew I wanted to go, too. Could she bring me along next time, if it wouldn’t be too weird?

As it turns out, she would soon be hosting one at her very own house. Sure enough, an invitation came in my email a few days later, sternly worded emphasis on ‘consent’.

In preparation, I treated the sex party as if was a date — a group date, of sorts, where I was sure to get laid. So I did what I’d do before a normal date: I shaved my legs, fixed my hair, and did my eye makeup real fancy. After trying on a bunch of outfits, I settled on jeans, boots, and a gorgeous silk blouse over some pretty lingerie.

Like the dork that I am, I was the first person to arrive.  After greeting the host and hostess, I sat at the kitchen table, chatting with each new guest, but also wondering if all I would do was eat snacks. There was a lot to think about, admittedly: every person who comes through the door is a potential sex partner.

Everybody kept their clothes on for a lot longer than I would have expected — when, all of a sudden, a man exited the bathroom wearing only his underwear. That seemed to be the cue to begin, that people were going to start getting naked.  I felt surprisingly uncomfortable about stripping down to my own lingerie while everyone else was clothed; it seemed exhibitionistic, which at the point in the party, seemed like a bad thing. So instead, I chatted like I was at a normal cocktail party.

How I would initiate sexual activity was another area of confusion. The same as with wondering if/when I would take my clothes off, there wasn’t a buzzer that sounded when group sex would commence. The hostess had graciously asked me how I wanted to be approached about sexual play: ask or be asked? I’m a pretty empowered woman, so I assumed that I’d just size up a hot dude, strut over to him and ask him to doggy-style. Why not?

But my friend seemed to be suggesting that someone had their eye on me and would I prefer him to proposition me?  Flattered, and without thinking, I told her, yes, he could come proposition me. That turned out to be the wrong decision, actually, because I wasn’t digging the guy in question. I had to figure out the polite, kind but firm way to convey to a complete stranger, “I don’t want to play with you.” Another thing I hadn’t anticipated: what if I don’t want to have sex with some of these people?

Leaving that fellow behind the kitchen, where more people had started taking off their clothes to reveal lingerie or underwear, I walked out into the living room. A man and a woman were fucking on the couch on the far side of the living room; he was on top with her breast in his mouth, pounding away. Oh! I thought. The orgy has started!  Suddenly a little bashful, I turned a corner into the bedroom and saw four people, three women and a man, in the hostess’ bed. It felt much more cozy and intimate in there. That’s when I learned something about myself: I like to watch.

Watching other people have sex in person is completely different than watching porn. That might have been my favorite part of the entire orgy — whenever I got to watch other people fuck. The 360-degree angle is hugely arousing. And as someone who has never been satisfied by anything other than homemade porn online, watching real people experience real pleasure is totally hot. At first I wasn’t sure if it was “okay” to watch (I mean, are we supposed to avert our eyes lest we seem creepy?), but I quickly realized that the apartment is so small that everyone knows that “privacy,” such as we know it, doesn’t exist. In fact, some people seemed to be putting on a show!

The hostess saw me watching and climbed out of bed, where she had been playing with one of the three people. “What do you want to do?” she asked me. “Actually, I’d like to make out with you,” I told her. And that’s when I finally took my clothes off, climbed into her bed, and hooked up with a woman for the very first time. (And then, um, another woman.)

Women’s bodies are so different than men’s bodies. I never knew that before. From the softness of their skin to the roundness of their breasts and ass, I felt (but, I hope, didn’t act) a bit like a gawky, fumbling adolescent.  Being so up close, hands-on and exploratory female nudity — feeling both their chubby places and their bony spots — satiated a desire I’d had for a long, long time. I felt more whoa about another person’s body than I’d felt with any man in a long while.

I also learned that my sexual energy alters with the same sex.  That was a surprise, as the more dominant men behave in bed, the more submissive I become. But hooking up with women, I carried the more aggressive energy. I was the one who pulled hair and wanted to grab and squeeze. As much as I love being a submissive with male partners, it was exciting to learn that I’m switch-y with women.

Weird, then, that the next activity I found myself engaging in was paddling a guy’s ass. Yup, I did that. The second guy to proposition me throughout the night had brought a paddle with him and after he gave me a public spanking on the hostess’ bed, he asked if I could do the same for him.  I’m not sexually turned on by spanking men at all, but I suppose I obliged out of politeness. And come to find out, I’m good at it! I’ve gotten enough spankings over the past decade-plus to know how to give a good one. He seemed satisfied. Still, it was out of my sexual character — not in a bad way, mind you, just in a different way that my usual behaviors.

My paddling friend and I spent the rest of the night making out in bed together alongside two or three other folks. We weren’t alone: the hostess got down on the floor with someone and the guy who was first to walk around in his undies fucked someone up against the wall and on the dresser. That’s when I learned something else new about my sexual self: as much as I love to watch, listening is different. Hearing the man dirty talk with his female partner about how she was a “bad girl” as he fucked her against the wall gave me the giggles. (Perhaps it was nervous energy because it was so hot that I was wishing I was the bad girl getting fucked?) The exhibitionism was no longer something to be embarrassed about — it was the best part!

Going to an orgy turned out to be the most healthy decision I’ve ever made for my body image. It wasn’t just my paddling friend’s praise or the other men who propositioned and flirted with me throughout the night. It was the first time I really saw naked women before: Every woman in the room had a completely different body and everyone appreciated, if not outright complimented, everyone else’s physical beauty.

It’s rare that we see women’s  nude or nearly nude bodies portrayed in ways that aren’t shoving it down our throat as “sexy.” I felt extremely desirable just the way I am, a feeling I haven’t felt since my early 20s when I felt naturally “pretty” a lot more than I do now, which is not often. It’s no surprise that the physical beauty present was a much wider range that what we see in movies, TV, women’s magazines, or even porn. This was a true panoply of women.  A few women had no hips or tits. Another girl was much larger. One woman had the longest hair I’ve ever seen in my life. There was tons of pubic hair.  No one seemed to care one whit about whether these bodies were ready for a Calvin Klein ad — bodies were people.

Tucking myself into my own bed that night — alone, happily — I felt whoa, I can’t believe I did that about hooking up with the two women. What didn’t occur to me until the next morning and stayed with the strongly in the days since was how good I felt in my own skin. I hung out with my friends the next day. All anybody wanted to ask was the nitty-gritty details of the orgy — how many people were there? was it gross?! was it hot?! — but I wanted to dwell on my newfound love for my own body.  Yes, it was a big deal that I explored my not-quite-straight sexuality. And yes, it’s also a big deal that I played with being the more aggressive/dominant partner with one woman and the man.

The night was less about the notches in my belt, though, or the new skills on my resume. It was about how the best thing about having sex with other people turned out to be myself.

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