On the Tuesday after my Celia slept over, she would be returning for my sex party. She would be coming late, after a class.
This would be our third “date.” I sent her a nice email after the weekend, and we chatted on the phone. But I resolved to leave her be until Tuesday: I knew she was busy, and I didn’t want to overwhelm our burgeoning whatever-this-is with too much attention.
After Celia left on Sunday, Todd, Thomas and I treated a Texan named Honey to a right friendly gangbang. She was very cute and cool, 26, with spiky pink hair, tattoos and a killer accent made raspy from cigarettes.
Her only disappointment was that there was so little boy-on-boy action. We did a pretty good show for her—we’re all bi, and Thomas and I fool around—but alas, we are all tops. So no bottoming for her to watch. (Bad planning on my part as host, but I had other priorities that weekend.)
All would be returning on Tuesday, when she could count on eyeballing some bi boy sex. I started these gatherings over a year ago, as a place for bi and bi curious boys to play around. Women also came, and so it evolved into a mixed bi party. We meet every two weeks, and the regulars—men and women—all get it on with one another.
On Monday night, I had a date with an on again/off again girlfriend. Drinks turned to dinner turned to her request that I sleep over. I guess we are on again.
I had a good deal to do before the gathering on Tuesday night. I shopped and cleaned the apartment, making the beds with the “sex party” sheets (avoid whites, as they stain, and expensive thread counts, as these sheets will have a short shelf life). I prepared food, put out water bottles, checked my cell and email.
A few last minute fires to put out. A new couple had decided to come, and needed a final screening. Walt and Kim thought they might not be able to come, which was a set back. They are regulars who can be counted on to get the party rolling.
A new member of our group, Elizabeth, a lovely 18-year-old woman, was debating whether or not she wanted to invite a fellow who had been neglecting her all week. She was also unsure how she would feel if he had sex with another woman—a very distinct possibility. I suggested she come early and we could discuss it over dinner. I volunteered to cook Mexican.
Another thing added to my to-do list, and it was already past six. Guests were expected to begin showing at eight.
This gathering was shaping into a large one for us: over a dozen people, with an equal gender distribution. There would be a few new couples, which can be good, but does add some unpredictable elements. What if they don’t show? What if the one straight guy I allowed to join his bi wife turns out to be a dud? What if Elizabeth’s boy sparks a fight between the two?
I wanted this to be a particularly good party. My friend Dacia was coming with her boyfriend Dirck. They’ve known about these gatherings from the outset, as Dacia is a like-minded perv, and we talk ceaselessly about sex—its culture and history, but also our doing of it. Just not our doing of it together. We used to work together, we are good friends, and it would just be too weird to add sex to our friendship.
However, recent events had converged to suggest that she might be comfortable at one of my gatherings. By chance, we had recently wound up naked in the same room, for sex with someone else—a story for another time—and the sky had not collapsed. Also, she and Dirck were ready to see if they could play with strangers, having tried pretty much every conceivable combination within their circle of friends.
Dacia was being doubly brave, as one of our new bucks, Jake, is an ex of hers. He arrived at my gatherings through serendipity—he answered an ad—but I recognized him right away. We had met before at Audacia’s apartment. I knew all about his sexual prowess from her reports, so I was glad to have him among our crowd.
When I mentioned that Dacia might be joining us, he was as nervous as she was about meeting again, in this context. A few rounds of emails and instant messages, and the three of us had that all smoothed out. We hoped.
Dacia’s standing rule was: neither Jake nor I were to play with Dirck. So the cutest guy was off limits, but fair enough.
I also wanted the gathering to be fun for my Celia. This had brought us together, after all; we met at a gathering, and she had contacted me about rejoining the party.
Come right down to it, I was feeling pretty well sexed going into the evening. An extraordinary weekend with my Celia, the gang bang with Honey and the boys, the sleep over with my on again/off again, all within the past three days, conspired to make me feel pretty laid back about my own sexual activity in the night ahead.
It also made me feel less concerned about seizing this as an opportunity to be with Celia. On another night, I might have paced myself so that when she arrived, I was all about her. But this night, I thought: let her have what she wants when she wants it. I was confident I would have more time alone with her.
I was just putting out condoms and lube when there was a knock. Quarter to eight: must be Elizabeth, hungry for burritos and advice.
It was Dacia.