Scarlet dropped me a line, proposing that she come for another visit, and spend the night this time. She was free Tuesday night. I couldn’t wish for more, I said. In my book, a sleepover with Scarlet would be a dream date.
Just one problem: Tuesday was orgy night.
We met because she is a reader of this blog, and she enjoys the posts about my gatherings. She liked the descriptions of steamy sex, but she was sure she would not fit into such a setting. Alas, it was too late to reschedule the gathering, so it looked as if our dream date would be scuttled by the orgy.
She would be okay with attending, she offered, if she didn’t have to participate. She was very intrigued by the thought of watching.
I explained that no one must participate in such a setting. No matter the situation, you are still in charge of yourself. You must always do only what you are comfortable doing. Our regulars understand the importance of respecting one another’s limits.
It’s also important, and sometimes difficult, to respect one’s own self-imposed limits. In the cold light of day, one can be very certain that a certain thing is okay (watching, for example) and another is not okay (such as participating in certain ways, if at all).
But in the midst of things, it is very easy to get turned on or otherwise distracted from that decision, and act in ways one might later regret. Temptation is very powerful.
She said she wanted to spend the night, and to attend the gathering. We talked about her limits. A happy neo-hippy, she was comfortable with being nude in the group. She was comfortable playing with me. She might decide to play with others, but most likely she would not.
I would very likely be having sex with other people. Was she comfortable with that? Oh of course, she said. She assumed as much. It’s good to have that clear, but truth to tell, I was content only to be with Scarlet and to spend time with Marla. Anything more could wait for another night.
I agreed to be with her throughout the evening, for as long as she needed me. I would see this evening through her eyes, and act as the superego on her untested id. We would have all day together to talk about it beforehand, and the next morning to download her impressions.
Actually, apart from the gathering, there was one other schedule conflict on Tuesday. Just before that started, Bridget was stopping by. She wanted to drop off a few gifts for the kids.
For weeks, she had been peppering our instant messages with queries about the kids’ sizes, their preferences in games and books, and so on. I knew she was up to something. Her generosity is apparently boundless—as is her passion for shopping—and there was little chance of getting past Christmas without some presents flying our way.
Tuesday was the best time for her to drop off the gifts, and I agreed, saying I could only meet for a half hour or so.
Scarlet was coming early. I figured we could hang out a while, and she could give me some time to accept Bridget’s gifts. Then Scarlet and I would have more time together before the gathering.
A lot to do. All it would take was exquisite timing.