I went to a sex party this past Friday, even though I wrote previously about no longer going to them and haven’t been back in exactly a year. Thing is: I’m not, and never was, morally opposed to them or anything. I also tend to never say never. It’s just that I feel they no longer serve a purpose in my life since most of the people on that scene are polyamorous and I’m no longer interested in pursuing that lifestyle, as it’s been well documented in my previous posts.
But many of my close friends are people from that scene and it was nice to see everyone in one place and re-connect. It was like cocktail/social hour amidst a bunch of scantily clad, sexy, naked bodies, a wax scene over here, someone getting fingered over there and what-have-you.
Additionally, a lot of people, myself including, had abstained from going to that particular party (at Bushwick Orgy HQ, as I’m now calling it for the purpose of discretion) for some time as it had spiraled out of control, become too big, like a large nonsensical burner party, where sex was also allowed. Most people were doing a lot of drugs, it was overrun by too many people, some of whom were the wrong people for this sort of thing. Many of the female attendees began to feel unsafe about going there, etc. All in all, a stark contrast from what it used to be.
The first time I went there, sometime in the fall of 2010, I believe, the place was more about a welcoming, tight-knit creative community that just felt… wholesome (yes, a sex party can feel wholesome!). I recently heard the management was changing hands and the party was going back to its original format: a much smaller group of people, the right people, less bells & whistles, etc. So I thought I should go check it out again, now that the tides are changing, and was also honored to still be invited as part of that smaller group. It was nice.
Thing is, though, I’m kind of lame these days. I rarely, if ever, feel like doing anything sexual in public any longer, nor do I usually feel like watching other people play, unless I’m involved (and I tend not to want to get involved in groups or in public any more). So on Friday, after a few conversations with friends, a couple of Jamesons and a dip in the hot tub (ok, I at least got naked in public, albeit briefly), I grabbed my stuff and went over to the Vitamin B dance party with some girl friends. Having lost the House of Yes venue, the party is now at SRB in Park Slope, which was rather an impressive venue and a step up, I’d say. Looked “professionally clubby,” with a full bar, laser lights, great sound and lots of space. The music, by guest DJ Icey and resident DJ Tektite, was some good happenin’ break beat house. I danced my ass off till 5 a.m. and felt much better than trying to “unlame” myself at a sex party.
I also ran into a burlesque dancer friend of mine at Jefferson’s Foreplay storytelling show on Monday, who told a story about going to the same orgy and “being the lamest person at that orgy,” as she didn’t really feel like playing there either, or watching others. Aha! I thought, I wasn’t the only one (and told her later that, “No, I was the lamest person at that orgy!”). Can we have a lame contest please??
She said she got in the hot tub, got out, went back out to the main room(s) and found that pretty much everyone was fucking. And… her reaction was mostly… meh. She said she wasn’t turned on by it and was surprised at herself. As I was surprised at myself, too. But she said she might be at a point in life where she would want a normal monogamous relationship. Guess a lot of us are getting there now.
I often still get compliments from people who went to one of these orgies some time ago, for their first or Nth time, and saw me getting it on with such and such and thought it was “really hot.” And, hey, that’s nice to hear. Compliments are always welcome. Though I’m pretty sure my starfucking days are largely behind me.