Orgy

Guys #201, #202 and #203 – Five Guys, one cabin, lots of fun…

I suppose the title above does a fairly good job telling this story, but for the sake of fun, let’s go into some details:

Guy #200 was someone who recognized me from my blog. He introduced me to Guy #201, his boyfriend, who was also there.

There in this case was a drugs invested foam party in a gay sauna where people go to be gay in every sense of the word.

As I was getting acquainted with Guys #200 and #201, Guys #202 and #203 were also there all of a sudden. Or maybe they’d been there all along. I don’t remember every detail. I do recall letting myself be carried by the flow of it all and somehow ending up in a cabin with four other Guys not long after Guy #200 had said Aren’t you that Guy from that blog, 160 guys, 1600 Guys or something?

I also don’t quite remember who did what to whom in that cabin. It was dark, we were high, the flow didn’t require me to keep track of anything.

Some people feel alive by jumping out of an airplane or climbing Mount Everest. My highs take place at lower altitudes: having sex with four other Guys is something that makes me feel alive.

And more than anything else I remember the feeling of being alive that night I met and had sex with Guys #200, #201, #202 and #203.

My guess is each one of us had our own unique backstory, our own path that had led to this small cabin designed for sex.

Personally, I was in it to celebrate my sexual prime while I still could. Being part of a fivesome with four people who were all younger than me was my way of convincing myself my youth wasn’t lost to the many years it spent in a closet. I was ragingly defining my pride.

As alive as I felt during a fivesome, that’s how deprived I felt by the memory of being a 24 year old virgin. A fivesome was the perfect way to rid me of that memory for a few hours.

Being with Guys #200 through #203 as we were doing our stuff to each other, my mind raged along with the rest of me: I am actually living this right now! I am in this moment, living it and inhaling every sensation! This is what being alive means! This is what it means to be truly horny and satisfied at the same time! If ever there was a perfect moment for a meteorite to strike Earth, this would be it! Please, let me be stardust again, right in this moment! Or rather, I AM stardust, sharing a cosmic bond with four other stardust entities! This moment of sheer joy is the end result of gravity acting upon the remnants of a now distant supernova, and I’m here to be aware of it! Life is such a grand miracle and I’m celebrating it by merging my being with other beings, made up of the same stardust, and they’re all using condoms so I’m not even going to feel guilty for enjoying this moment so much come Monday!

When I engage in chemsex, my vocal output is usually restricted to Hm yeah, Oh yeah, Fuck yeah or just Yeah, but my mind usually wonders wonders off to galaxies far, far away.

After the fivesome had more or less concluded, the five of us sort of clung together for the remainder of the night, eventually ending up at this afterparty at this friend’s place.

The great thing about afterparties in living rooms is that they allow for the sex to be augmented by conversation, allowing you to get to know the people you’re having sex with:

Guy #200 and his boyfriend Guy #201 were someone I clicked with on an intuitive level. I still run into them occasionally, and it always makes me feel a bit awkward. I like them, but I’m always high when I see them, meaning I never have any memory of any conversations we might have had. My mind’s always on stardust when I see Guys #200 and #201, so I trust my subconscious to take care of the conversation on my behalf. I only ever remember the vibe, not the content. I have no idea what they do for a living, where they live or if they have pets or not. But I do know our entities are good at merging.

Guy #202 was one of the sweetest people I ever ran into at an orgy. It was this sweetness that initially made him attractive to me. As we got to the talking part, I quickly realized Guy #202 was not what I would call smart. He didn’t seem to have a bad bone in his body, but the sexiness of his sweetness vaporized with every word he spoke.

I would run into him on a few other occasions, but the more I saw him, the less I treated him with the respect his sweetness was deserving of.

To make things worse, Guy #202 seemed very much into me, even giving the impression he had a crush on me, however breezy. I ended up ghosting his online attempts to get in touch with me, instead being awkward with him every time I ran into him.

Guy #203 was by far the hottest of the five, and as such I was the most shy with him. It took me the bigger part of the night to get closer to him, to finally have sex with him. As with the other four, Guy #203 was someone I only ever see at orgies or parties where being sober would be the same as not being there at all. The few times I got to experience Guy #203 without drugs he struck me as someone I can relate to on more levels than just a sexual one.

Of course, when you’re high enough to consider yourself stardust and you’re living the moment with four other people, nothing besides that moment really matters.

It’s why I’ve come to combine doing Guys with doing drugs over the years.

Guy #197 and #198 – Orgy politics…

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:

1. People I would like to have sex with (e.g. Guy #195)
2. People who host the event (e.g. Guy #196)
3. People who invited me (e.g. Guy #197)
4. People who are also there and not my type (e.g. Guy #198)

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.

Everybody wins:

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.

Guys #186, #187, #188, #189, #190, #191, #192 and #193 – The weekend…

I first met Guy #168 standing next to this whirlpool at this gay sauna during this foam party: hundreds of Guys either in their prime or clinging to it for dear life, gathered in a building built to enable gay sex, it be under hot showers, boiling sauna cabins, misty steam quarters, foamy dance floors, shady dark rooms or just up against any available wall. Lawyers, business owners, the unemployed, nurses, cab drivers, telemarketers, students, policemen and criminals…perfectly normal people who so happen to be gay get naked at foam parties at gay saunas sometimes, to get high on drugs and then on each other.

This particular foam party served as my introduction to the scene which, as it turned out, would be home to my sex life for the years to come. I had experienced my first orgy not long before, but nothing as extravagantly hedonistic as this night would become. Added to that, I had just moved back to the Netherlands, having spent nearly a decade abroad in exotic locations void of a vibrant gay community. Now I was back, home, in a country with a spectacular gay scene, ready to start living the gay life I felt deprived of for so long. I considered it the start of the peak of my sexuality. I had come here to celebrate my prime or at the very least cling to it for dear life.

The night I knew would be spectacular: I was invited to join my friend’s afterparty later on, which meant I had a living room of 20 hot Guys to look forward to. Me, in a room with 20 hot people, having wild, animalistic sex, the kind I had only seen in porn movies. For someone who had spent 24 years in a closet, feeling unattractive, 9 years abroad, feeling deprived, being invited to this exclusive afterparty was nothing short of a volcanic eruption of suppressed mother issues.

Guy #168 was someone preceded by his unspoken reputation. Secluded as our little gay culture can be, within the hamlet we call home some are prettier, sluttier, funnier, smarter or put simply, some are more desirable than others.
Guy #168’s first name was known to everyone I knew, and he owned it like Madonna, Adele or Bono…So when he stood before me all of a sudden, I instantly knew who he was: his gorgeous, well trained body, his carefully chosen bit of sportswear that seemed deceptively casual, his angelic smile that could have passed for innocent were it not for all the Guys exchanging blowjobs in the background. The many first impressions that was Guy #168 quickly took hold in my mind, just as my XTC started kicking in.

Needless to say, I was instantly starstruck the moment I first laid eyes on Guy #168.

The night I met Guy #168 I was poised to meet Guy after Guy after Guy, to live a life of lust, hedonism and freedom.

Falling in love was the last thing I wanted to do. It just so happened to be the first thing I did.

I first got high on drugs, then I got high on Guy #168. It was one of my best evenings as a human being. Guy #168 was one of the most beautiful Guys I had ever seen or been with. His constantly generous smirk kept on swaying me, giving me a courage I’d never felt in the presence of beauty before. With every word he said he channeled limitless positivity, his rich vocabulary a reminder that yes, sometimes abs and brains do come together in one and the same human being.

Guy #168 and I had sex later that night at our afterparty. We were in a room with about 20 naked Guys, all of them gorgeous, but none more so than Guy #168, who on all accounts was the star of the party, always the center of attention, always modestly accepting his status as orgy queen, always spreading good vibes to anyone high enough to receive them.

Best of all, Guy #168 gave me a lot of attention, allowing me to detach from my issues, leaving but the best version of myself.

By the time morning broke, I had fallen head over heels in love with Guy #168. And it felt fantastic, right up until the day after, when Guy #168 had gone home and the XTC had faded into oblivion.

I loved being with Guy #168 at an orgy, but what I craved was spending time alone with him, getting to know him, feel what he was like without the drugs.
Being intimate with Guy #168 proved so much easier than getting close to him. In fact, my only chance of being with Guy #168 was by going to orgies.

I can’t pretend to know people’s individual reasons for attending orgies, but I assume it has to do with horniness, damage repair from a plethora of youth traumas and a desire to fit in and be wanted. Valid as those reasons are, for a long time I only attended orgies for the sole purpose of hoping to run into Guy #168. Orgies were my only way of seeing him.

And when I attended an orgy only to find out he wasn’t there, the drugs somehow lost their magic pretty quickly.

Which brings us to the story of Guys #186, #187, #188, #189, #190, #191, #192 and #193.

It’s the story of a weekend that took place a few months after I had fallen in love with Guy #168.

There was another foam party at the same sauna we first met, with a similar afterparty to follow. I had sent Guy #168 a carefully constructed breezy WhatsApp message, which led to the following ‘conversation’:

Me: Hey gorgeous, how’s it hangin’? Wanna join us for foam party and afterparty, tomorrow?😜 Let me know, hot stuff!
#168: will think about it
Me: K cool, thinking is what you’re good at haha😘🌈💪

Whether he actually thought about it is very much up for debate. What is certain is that I thought of nothing else but him that weekend, first wondering if he’d come, then slowly realizing he wouldn’t be there, then shifting my attention to filling up the void I felt inside.

I had come to this foam party to chase the high I felt when I met Guy #168. In his absence, all that was left to do was chasing. Chasing because I didn’t know how not to.

I was in love, and high, and simply wanted to rid myself of my issues, and had come to a 400 Guy foam orgy to lighten my load. I hit on Guys I deemed cute, remotely cute, or just Guy. At one point a friend of mine pulled me back from my quest and told me I was trying to hard.

Up until meeting Guy #168 I had always been fairly smooth when it came to picking up Guys. I didn’t know any better or Guys I wanted wanted me back and needed little to no convincing. Now, as I was desperately trying to find someone to make up for Guy #168’s absence, Guys seemed uninterested, ignoring me, not even seeing me, or pushing me away.

It was the summer of 2016, I was 34 four years old, I had reached the peak in my sexuality, and I had lost my mojo.

Guy #186 – The one I wanted to forget

As the night progressed, so did the decimation of my standards, until this not entirely unattractive or old Guy slid his fingers against mine as I passed him in what was probably the brightest spot of our dark room.

I didn’t even stop to take a closer look at this Guy. He was there, he wanted me, he wasn’t twice my weight…it sufficed. So I let him have his way with me. Sex with Guy #186 was nothing short of awful. We ended up doing it on a couch in a well lit area, in full view of Guys of all kinds of cute passing by. Some of them were my friends and I could tell by the looks on their faces they were surprised to see me with someone like Guy #186.

I don’t remember how long the sex between me and Guy #186 lasted. I do remember I told him it was over at some point, excusing myself and leaving him behind with a strangely satisfied glow on his face.

“Why did you do that?” one of my friends asked me after I had removed myself from under Guy #186.
“Well, he sort of had a cute face, didn’t he?” I tried, hoping to add a flinch of redemption to my desperation.
“No. No, he did not,” my friend said.

Guy #186 is someone I would run into on various occasions afterward. Each time we did I pretended not to recognize him. The one time he tried to seduce me again I pushed his hand away as if he was Donald Trump reaching for my pussy, that’s how much I was repulsed by Guy #186, and by the thought of us having had sex. I would feel guilty over treating him that way, but then again, we met at an orgy, our dialogue was akin to two Terminators trying to off each other and he never would’ve gotten anywhere with me had it not been for my highly dysfunctional crush on a Guy I had met months before.

Guy #187 – The one to make me forget Guy #186

There’s always an afterparty.

That’s what I thought as I scoured this foam party. Technically, the foam party was the main event. In practice though, it’s spending the remainder of the day in a living room full of naked people why I would seek out such a foam party in the first place.

Not long after my regrettable hook-up with Guy #186, I made my way to my friend’s house, hoping it to be filled to the brim with Guy beauty, just as it had last time, that night I fell in love at an orgy.

This time however the living room was mostly empty, which meant we’d have to go on Grindr and advertize our little after to the neighborhood.

Instead of being in a living room with the country’s finest, I now had to settle for the country’s nearest.

Guy #187 was near and sort of my type. He was of course not at all like Guy #168, but enough to make me forget about the debacle with Guy #186 hours before. Guy #187 came to my friend’s house, took a little XTC, some GHB, had a little conversation to let the drugs take effect, then had sex with me and no doubt some other people who were also there.

I ran into him at an art exhibition about a year later, where we pretended not to know each other.

Guy #188 – The one who was very much like Guy #187

The story of Guy #188 is pretty much the same. The only difference is he was reeled in by one of my friends, so he had sex with my friend first, and then with me.

I wasn’t into Guy #188 that much, but he was very friendly. Plus he wanted me, something I was longing for more than anything else. Add some poppers to the mix and going down on Guy #188 was pleasant-ish.

Guy #188 was barely 20 years old and already looked like 30 was just around the corner. I didn’t express my advice to stay off drugs, seeing it’s not the most plausible advice to hand out when you’re high. Watching Guy #188 going steady on drugs made me feel relieved I was clinging to my peak in my 30s and not earlier.

I remember the two of us befriending each other on Facebook amidst the scent of poppers. We’re no longer Facebook friends though, meaning he probably unfriended me in a wave of sobriety at some point.

Guy #189 – The one I tried not to be awkward with

By the time I got around to Guy #189 the living room was occupied by about 6 or 8 people either having sex or using their phones to get some. It’s the kind of party where people constantly show each other the selfies they receive on Grindr, so that everybody may gauge the meat before it’s invited over.

And of course there’s the unspoken rivalry of who brings in the best meat. When someone shows you a picture of someone they want to bring in, you’re not just passing judgment on a stranger, you’re also checking if this stranger is someone you spoke to as well, if he deems you attractive too.

Shallow waters can be the perfect ground for epic battles in the gay scene, and it’s not something I’m always in the mood for. Added to that texting can be a daunting task when you’re high on XTC, so instead of trying to bring in fresh meat, I focused on some that was already in the room:

Guy #189 was someone I gave a blowjob to. He was among the 20 Guys I had an orgy with a few months earlier. We had gotten along amicably, but there had never been any sexual chemistry between us. This time we once again shared a living room full of nakedness, and we happened to end up lying next to each other. I couldn’t think of something to say and felt awkward just lying there doing nothing, hence the blowjob.

Turns out giving a blowjob for the sake of not being awkward is still kind of awkward. We’d run into each other on a few orgies to follow, but never got close to having sex again. Or talking for that matter.

Guy #190 – The one who made me forget

Guy #190 was a highlight of my weekend. He came over to my friend’s house early in the morning, the moment I went into Jack Bauer mode: 24 hours without sleep and no end in sight.

Guy #190 had just woken up and his sobriety brought a refreshing energy to our living room, which at the time of his arrival counted about 5 or 6 Guys either having sex or looking for it on Grindr, or having sex while looking for other Guys on Grindr.

As I had a very nice time with Guy #190, I looked around in wonder. I actually saw a Guy being a bottom to another Guy, whilst chatting with yet another Guy on Grindr, and thought to myself how I would never in my life treat sex so casually.

After all, wasn’t sex something sacred, an intimate bond you share on this quest called love? That at least was how I had described my experiences on 168guys.com up until the point I started doing orgies.

It was the kind of sex I experienced with Guy #190. He was funny, smart and even though my high was no match for his sobriety, we managed to establish a connection. He reminded me of why people pursue sex, the first one to do so the entire weekend.

We even met up a few times afterward, our most recent hook-up only a few months ago. We might have even gotten to know each other a little better had we not lived as far apart as we do. Then again, Guy #190 was mostly apt at making me forget about the Guy he wasn’t. I respected him for making me not ache for Guy #168 for a while, but it was a fleeting appreciation at best.

Guy #191 – The one I actually forgot

I remember nothing of Guy #191. All I know is I took note of him in my Excel sheet shortly after the weekend was over. I only wrote down his first name, without any extra information to stir my memory. I started writing 168guys.com under the assumption that all sex is a story worth telling. Yet when I started this site, I had no idea it is common for some Guys to have sex and be on Grindr at the same time.

Guy #154 – The old friend

Sometimes you run into an old friend at an orgy. It was lovely seeing Guy #154 again, and exactly what I needed, as the sex between him and me has always been spectacular.

Guy #192 – The young and the restless

Next up was a Guy who hit me up on Grindr the night before. I had deemed him too unattractive based on his selfie. Overnight he had uploaded a different, better selfie however. I replied to his message, told him I was in a room filled with Guys who’d be into him. He arrived at the scene half an our later.

Gorgeous as he turned out to be, Guy #192 was incredibly restless, a trait no doubt worsened by the GHB in his system. He had sex with pretty much all of the people there, but only very swiftly. His attention was never on the person he was having sex with, but always on his next prey, never on his catch.

As a consequence I couldn’t feign a real interest in Guy #192 for very long. Besides, my drugs were wearing out and I could tell my body should not aim for anything higher than the natural release of endorphins at this point. So I went on Grindr just as Guy #192 was giving me a blowjob, pursuing meat of a different flavor, becoming a Guy who goes on Grindr during sex.

Guy #193 – The one who died

Guy #193 had been at our afterparty since pretty much the beginning. He was in his early forties, which I considered old and not my type, but his maturity and endearing personality swayed me to fool around with him a little throughout the day. It wasn’t great, but it was nice doing him a favor that way.

I might have done more with him than fooling around, but the more drugs he took, the more annoying he became, the more I realized how drugs were an integral part of his orgy personality.

He was found dead in his apartment almost a year later, after he had apparently taken too much GHB, lost consciousness and suffocated, making him the first Guy I ever had sex with who’s no longer alive.

…and so ended a weekend filled with Guys, drugs, sex and no Guy #168.

When I met Guy #168 he introduced me to the world of lust I had ached for and it was exactly as I had always imagined it, a world where my libido could roam freely and feast on Guy after Guy after Guy. But the minute I stepped foot in Guy #168’s world, I found myself longing only for him.

I started 168guys.com under the assumption love and sex are inseparable, that anyone looking for sex is looking for love at the same time. Then I discovered orgies, hoping to be liberated from the burden of feelings, only to project all my feelings onto it and losing myself quite completely at the first try.

My first night with Guy #168 took place in a purple haze of extravagantly beautiful sexuality. A few months later, that magic had evaporated, revealing a much darker side of orgy culture, where the haze had become a gritty gray, where people have sex while they’re on Grindr, dismiss Guys while they’re having sex with them, where friendships only last as long as the drugs do, where drugs bring out weird alter egos who are without exception both the best and worst versions of ourselves, and where people die alone.

It’s a world where I felt at home: orgies are like a played out metaphor of real life, albeit with far more polarizing extremes.

It’s where I had come to chase the high that didn’t chase me back.

Guys #186 through #193 all had one thing in common. They were not Guy #168.

And I had sex with all of them because of Guy #168.

DO WHAT I DID: START WITH GUY #1!

Guys #154, #155, #156 and #157 – My first orgy…

Porn.

How I used to love it.

Because if sex is enjoyable, watching people you kind of wish you’d look like having sex is a pleasant alternative.

I was about 18 years old when I got internet. It’s safe to say I reached maturity to the tune of Pshhhkkrrkakingkakingkakingtshchchding!ding!ding!
When I first went online I searched this internet, or Altavista as I called it, for pictures of airplanes. They took a minute to download. If I was lucky, I would find a three second clip of an airplane taking off, angering my mother who didn’t want me to occupy the phone line for an hour and a half.

I intuitively liked the internet. It didn’t have a lot of cat videos at the time, but I couldn’t imagine ever being in need of pussy. Instead, it wasn’t long before the following thought occurred to me: If Altavista has pictures of planes flying, does it also have pictures of boys riding?

It was that tiny era of human history when credit cards stood in the way of watching full-fledged porn movies, so I settled for the excitement of tiny thumbnails. Still, Altavista had pictures of boys riding alright. Sure the phone bill got a little higher, but for the first time I saw how my own sexuality was in fact quite common and not particularly unpleasant to look at.

To those who tried to call me during this time of my life, getting a busy signal probably meant I was busy masturbating.

This one time I landed on a site that had three videos a few minutes each. It was the first time I got my hands on a bit of actual porn, not just a tiny thumbnail, but actual moving imagery, video of lots of Guys engaged in lots of sex! I felt like Columbus setting foot in The New World. The videos took about an hour to download. I wanted to download more when I read a little disclaimer on the bottom of the site I was visiting. It said it cost seventy cents a minute. That sparked a bit of a panic.

I went offline and closed every window. I removed every bit of digital history I could possibly find. It was the day I first learned about cookies. And having just seen porn it was as if my cookie bin was filled with skeletons that weren’t ready to come out of their closet.
I erased every trace of my porn past. And trust me, I learned a lot about computers that night: Cookies are just the beginning.

The one thing I couldn’t erase was the phone bill.

My mother wasn’t the frugal type, but 40 Euros on a phone bill sparks interest. It even inspired her to call the phone company and ask them about it. I wonder what went through her mind when a helpdesk employee told her someone in her house had been downloading porn.

Curiosity killed the cat, but we didn’t have cats, so I was next in line to have my curiosity reprimanded.

Or so I thought, because my mother actually took it quite well. While I was engulfed in shame, she explained how having a healthy sex drive is only natural, about as natural as paying one’s mother the 40 Euros you owe her due to a self expedition campaign that went over budget.
I’d like to think she enjoyed being a mum in that moment, when she comforted me by saying a high sex drive kind of runs in our family. I think she was relieved at least I was sexual, having never brought home a girlfriend or something that could make her a grandmother someday. Porn gave her that moment, with a little help from the phone company.

It was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life, but porn has never been as exciting as that night I learned where cookies come from.

It was worth every cookie. Those few minutes of gay porn opened up a whole new realm of fantasies…or rather they confirmed those fantasies for me.
Eventually, I would come to chase two things, both of which I was chasing the night I saw my first porn scene: Sex and excitement.

At first, the pursuit of sex went hand in hand with the thrill. It was true the first time I had sex, the first time I had good sex, the first time I had sex with more than one Guy, not to mention that time I did porn myself.

As we all know, obtaining porn these days is easier than ordering a pizza. As for the internet, it has since given birth to Grindr, Hornet and a dozen or so apps that tell me where sex can be found. The more boundaries you break, the more difficult it becomes to find new ones.

As such, the more sex you have the less exciting it becomes…with a few notable exceptions.

One of those exceptions was the first time I attended a gay orgy.

At 33 years of age I got thrust into a bit of gay subculture I hadn’t yet explored. While I was familiar with sex dating, the vast majority of my sexual experiences had been with one Guy at the time. I had experienced this one massive gay orgy some years before, but found it didn’t entice me. The reason a 150 Guy-sexfest didn’t do anything for me was because it had been anonymous, way too crowded, uninspired and lacking all forms of intimacy.

This time however I found myself in the seclusion of a living room at a friend’s house, along with about eight other Guys, all of them horny, all of them aching for sex and excitement and all of them high as a kite. It’s the kind of setting that allows you to bond with total strangers in a heartbeat. Look someone in the eye at an orgy and you’re connecting with someone who’ll bear your secret as you bear it for him. Add some XTC to that and a blowjob becomes a way of saying ‘hi’, a way of sealing the unspoken bond you automatically share at such a gathering.

Being in a room with eight naked Guys was more exciting than anything I’d ever done before, sexually speaking. It was as if the seed that had planted itself the moment Altavista produced its first tiny thumbnail had finally come to fruition. And like that very first time I watched porn, it felt deliciously bad, naughty and consequently rewarding.

Only this time I was able to share the experience with other people. I quickly learned that, to me, it wasn’t sex, it wasn’t the excitement, it was the connection I felt with total strangers that got me high more than anything. Well, that and the XTC of course.

Actually, of all the Guys only two or three were what I would consider hot. The others weren’t really my type, but I was glad to be sharing the experience with them regardless. Really, one shouldn’t underestimate just how potent XTC is.

Even though I had eight naked Guys at my disposal, I mostly focused on Guy #154, whom I had sex with in full view and at times admiration of those present. Guy #154 and I both got high by our mutual attraction to each other, notwithstanding the fact ‘high’ had been the altitude where we first met. We had a great evening as we celebrated our sexual prime on each other. We would later become friends and meet up at numerous parties. Guy #154 would eventually tell me the night of our first meeting had been his first orgy as well. We’ve probably been feeding off each other’s excitement from the day we met.

In fact, I’m glad my first partner at an orgy was someone like Guy #154. At the time I had no way of knowing, but he was the kind of Guy that could empathize with my former self, hopelessly downloading some snippets of gay porn and being caught by my mother in the process. Guy #154 was someone to whom secrecy was an integral part of his existence as, in many ways, it had been for me.

Apart from Guy #154 I also more or less had sex with Guys #155, #156 and #157 that night, albeit briefly. Guy #155 decided he liked my penis so much he wanted to ride it. I would have told him not to, were it not for the fact I was so busy with Guy #154 I hardly noticed him being my bottom bitch for a few minutes. Guys #156 and #157 both did some oral stuff, but nothing spectacular. I had in fact reached a point where the sex itself had become mundane. It was the setting that made it spectacular, like watching porn for the first time. I was finally living a fantasy I had always deemed unrealistic, above me even.

That 18 year old teenager who got hard at the sound of a dial-up modem had set himself on a path of exploration. Thumbnails led to porn, porn led to quietly experimenting with Guys, which in turn had led to all sorts of meaningful experiences, like falling in love, getting hurt and gonorrhea and somehow gaining confidence from all of it. With each sexual experience my confidence had grown somewhat. The more excitement I conquered, the more I culminated into the Guy I wanted to be when Altavista showed me pictures of boys riding.

And here I was, 15 years later, celebrating my sexuality like a champion.

The first time you experience a drug induced gathering where nakedness is the dress code you can’t help but be overwhelmed. It’s one of those Now I’ve seen it all-moments, where you witness four Guys engaged in acrobatics no one would dare tell their mother about, as a fifth Guy casually helps himself to some GHB that’s freely available in the kitchen, while Guy #154 and I enjoy the poppers that scatter the coffee table like biscuits at a high tea. For a few hours time stands still and Earth might just as easily be a completely different planet than the living room you’re in, comfortably stuck in a world where intimacy and sex flow like the drugs that precede them.

It was one of the happiest days of my life, that’s for sure.

Of course, back when Altavista presented me with its first tiny thumbnail I had no idea thumbnails would ever grow to bore me. When I first watched porn, I had not yet experienced a world where internet has more free porn than anyone could watch in a lifetime. Likewise, when I had my first gay orgy, I couldn’t fathom ever being jaded by that much sex.

I would quickly learn it’s not uncommon for gay Guys to get together every so often to share sex and drugs. It’s a wonderful concept, but truth be told the drugs prevented me from seeing the dark side of that much nakedness. It’s something I would grow to experience in the year that followed.

To me, the unexpected highlight of my first orgy (and perhaps every orgy that followed), was the downtime that followed afterward, when the drugs subside and basic underwear replaces all the naked. It’s a time when sex makes place for conversation. It’s like waking up from a journey and being able to ride your sense of wonder together. Being the bearer of each other’s secrets, the air is one of trust and empathy, people get stripped of their defenses and tend to open up completely, as did Guy #154 and me. The afterhours of an orgy are a time of reflection, taking place in a cocoon that shields attendees from the outside world on account of what they’ve just shared with each other. It’s like being that 18 year old kid who sees his first porn movie and getting sucked into that reality right then and there.

At 33 years of age I had my most exciting sexual experience (up till that point that is), 15 years after I discovered it as a possibility. Sex is a journey, a continuous obstacle course with occasional highlights and a never ending string of lessons.
My first orgy taught me two things:

People at orgies always have the most fascinating backstories.

One shouldn’t underestimate the power of XTC.

DO WHAT I DID: START WITH GUY #1!

Guys #59 through #79 – To sex or not to sex…

I have a confession to make.

I’m not entirely sure how many Guys I’ve had sex with in my lifetime.

Yes, this site is called 168guys.com, but in all honesty 168 is just a ballpark figure. I had already bought the domain name when I created an Excel document listing all my sexual escapades.
As it turned out I could not remember all the Guys I’ve ever been with.

How do you lose track of the people you had sex with, a good Christian might ask.

The answer is orgies.

The year was 2010 and I found myself in what was arguably the most gay friendly place on Earth: A shady dance floor occupied by about 150 naked Guys, of which I was one.

As with many of my sexual experiences, I had fun, but not because of the sex. It was fun because it was interesting.

First of all, when you’re naked and you share a space with 150 people who are also naked and you’re all there to be naked and have sex with other naked people, some Guys make the assumption anyone’s testicles are up for grabs. Anyone’s, including mine.

I removed quite a few hands from my balls in 2010.

Also, an orgy with 150 Guys changes the meaning of the word ‘sex’.

When someone pushes you against a wall and starts to kiss you and then suddenly four or five other Guys show up and start participating, does that mean I had sex with five or six Guys? Some touched me, some kissed me, some tried to go a little further. Some I allowed to go a little further.

So did I really do 20 Guys on one night? It all depends on one’s definition of sex. For me it depends on having an Excel document that has to sum up 168 Guys in total. I needed 20 Guys to make that work. How many Guys I really did that night?
First, it depends on the definition of sex. Second, I have no clue.

I don’t have anything against orgies, but I believe the people I was with misunderstood the concept of an orgy because they misunderstood the concept of sex. Sex is about intimacy. It’s perfectly possible to share something intimate with 150 people, provided it’s not a drug induced ball grabbing fest aimed solely at lifting our egos above the discomfort of mediocrity.
Because that’s pretty much what this particular orgy was all about.

There was no naughty secrecy, no sense of breaking boundaries together, no intimacy of any kind. In fact, the Guys all acted cold and goal oriented. Nobody was nice to anyone. Everybody merely consumed everybody for the sake of consumption.

In fairness, I was probably the only Guy not on drugs that night. When you’re in a room with 150 naked Guys on XTC, roofies and poppers, sobriety tends to warp reality. Maybe I would have enjoyed myself more if I had taken the effort to get on the same wavelength as Guys #59 through #79.

Still, it was to sex or not to sex for them. Nothing else seemed to matter. I’ve done drugs, but I’ve never found myself on that wavelength.

As the evening progressed, tissues started scattering the floor like stars lighting up the night sky. Eventually, the music softened, the mood got killed and more and more people put their clothes back on. And then everybody dispersed on the streets outside, going back to being the total strangers they were before.

I took a streetcar back home. I consciously observed my fellow passengers. In all likelihood, none of them had any idea I had just attended a gay orgy. It felt like I was carrying a big secret with me. I imagine there were 150 Guys spread throughout the city, feeling the same.

I like Amsterdam.

Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 2 hours
FORMAT: “Relationship”? Really?
SEX SCORE (0 = Your name on a Starbucks cup <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 4.5

Guy #12 – Gandalf at a Tupperware party…

Picture yourself a private pool in a remote garden, late at night, filled with six guys, two of which are couples that start making out. That leaves two guys, sitting in a pool, surrounded by four people that just initiated foreplay.

I know, it has all the makings of a spectacular orgy.

Sadly, one of the single guys in that pool was me and the other one was Guy #12.

Sexually speaking, Guy #12 didn’t scare, disgust or in any way affect me. There had just never been even the slightest bit of sexual chemistry between us. Whatever I saw myself confronted with, it simply wasn’t my thing and I couldn’t see it ever being my thing. One might argue I felt like Gandalf at a Tupperware party: Intolerably lonely.

Moments after the two couples had started making out, Guy #12 grabbed his chance and, well…grabbed Gandalf by the balls. The worst part is Gandalf let him.

Of the six people in that pool, five were clearly in the mood for sex and all five had found someone who they wanted to have sex with. Gandalf was the odd one out, but he didn’t feel like spoiling the sensual tension that had spontaneously arisen.

What followed was an uncomfortable game of give and take in which Gandalf found himself weighing his personal boundaries against his desire to fit in. He’s not used to dealing with that kind of pressure.

I leave it to your imagination to decide how far Gandalf ended up letting Guy #12 go. I’ll only say it was further than anything he could ever have enjoyed with someone like Guy #12. It was yet another strike of regrettable sex, so afterward that’s what Gandalf felt: Regret. It’s never good for your ego to have sex out of politeness.

Five out of six people in that pool were having fun, or at least so it seemed. Most of it took place under water at night, so I’m not really sure what everyone was doing. All I knew was that Gandalf wanted it to be over. While Guy #12 was clearly having trouble believing he had gotten so lucky, Gandalf was silently loathing himself.

I sometimes find myself complaining when I strike forgettable sex, but it’s people like Guy #12 that remind me how nice it can be to forget sometimes. Whenever I think about the sex with Guy #12 I tend to dissociate a little.

Pretty much what you’d expect from Gandalf at a Tupperware party, trying to do the polite thing.

Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 5 or 6 years, give or take, on and off
FORMAT: Friendship, let’s just leave it at that
SEX SCORE: (0 = being Gandalf at a Tupperware party <–> 10 = the best sex ever): 0