It’s always nice to be invited to an orgy.
You may not be in the mood for an orgy, it might even come at a bad time, but in and of itself, someone asking you to join their private sexfest is a nice compliment if nothing else.
While the great thing about orgies is that everybody is free to be naked to their heart’s content, there is such a thing as orgy politics, a bunch of unspoken obligations that don’t always perfectly align with your sexual preferences.
When I go to an orgy, there’s roughly four kinds of people:
In a perfect world, everybody at an orgy falls into the first category.
In reality, I spend my orgy hours chasing the cute Guys and sexually obligating my way through Guys I feel deserve a piece of me on account of them either hosting me, having invited me or, in rare cases, also being there.
Guy #197 invited me to this orgy one day. The reason I had accepted his invitation however was not because of Guy #197. Although he was not entirely unattractive, I had arrived at the scene to chase meat of a better flavor.
Still, Guy #197 had invited me. I had him to thank for conquering Guy #195 earlier that night. It seemed a given the two of us would have sex at some point.
So we did.
In line with my expectations, the sex between the two of us was not formidable, but comfortable enough to be entertaining.
As Guy #197 and I were doing our thing, I noticed his attention was divided between me and someone who was also there.
As it turned out, this someone was Guy #197’s boyfriend.
Usually when I’m at an orgy, I aim to have sex only with people I find attractive, unless they invited me, or unless it’s their house I’m in. That’s a pretty solid compromise for someone like me, to whom looks are the most determining factor in my sexcapades.
Guy #197’s boyfriend fell into the fourth category: he was also there. I’m always friendly to people who are also there at orgies. I engage in conversation with them. I even allow them to caress me if they feel so inclined. But anything more intimate than that is where I draw the line. I go to orgies because I want to have good sex, not just any sex.
Except that I couldn’t help but feel Guy #197’s boyfriend on some level reasoned that whatever his boyfriend scored, he scored it for the team.
So when Guy #197’s boyfriend started feeling me up, I took the diplomacy route, and allowed him to become Guy #198.
Truth be told the sex wasn’t awful, but it felt off because I was doing it for the wrong reasons.
While I enjoy the premise of an orgy – that anyone can do with anyone as he pleases – I often finds it foregoes the mutual consent-phase good sex is known for.
Of course neither Guy #197 or #198 forced themselves upon me in any way. I could have rejected them easily, but one doesn’t want to be rude.
When you reject someone at an orgy, you’re basically saying that person is unattractive to you, no matter how much GHB and XTC are flowing through your system. That’s not the kind of sentiment you want to relay to your host, or the Guy who invited you, or his boyfriend who is also there, especially when they’re really nice people who deserve good sex just as much as anyone.
So you halfheartedly engage in some sexual activity where you let people like Guy #197 and #198 do most of the work. And when they make the effort to give you a blowjob, you moan loud enough to validate them, but dial down any other physicality to prevent them from going anal.
Guy #197 and #198 got a piece of me. I got two far from unpleasant blowjobs out of it. It was the orgy equivalent of Donald Trump shaking hands with Kim Jong-un.
I would run into Guy #197 and #198 on a few other occasions. Because we had shared sex, we were friendly faces to each other. Even better, I no longer felt any obligation to have sex with them again.
In terms of orgy politics, we had become allies of sorts.
Of course sex is something ideally done when love’s on the table, but in the absence of romance an alliance is not at all a bad result.
Allies are the kind of people who invite you to orgies.
And it’s always nice to be invited to an orgy.