True Stories The Orgy Guy

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All my life, I’ve wondered what it would be like to be an “orgy guy.” Even back in high school — when I couldn’t get one girl to sleep with me, let alone several — I fantasized about ménages á trois, á quatre, á cinq. Having seen Caligula and read Gay Talese’s Thy Neighbor’s Wife, I just figured more was better.

Even after I started screwing regularly, my interest in group encounters continued unabated. One-on-one relationship sex was great, but it was intertwined with obligations, emotional baggage and trips to the flower shop. Sex seemed most appealing in its rawest form — anonymous, unencumbered.

After college, I moved to San Francisco and recast myself as a sexual adventurer, trying to find the switch that would turn off my overactive brain. I went to S&M dungeons, bondage bars and ecstasy parties. I attended sex-toy lectures and Radley Metzger film festivals. I dated dominatrices. But nothing really worked. I was too shy, insecure and prematurely balding to participate in any public kinkiness.

Then salvation arrived. A friend told me about “Darkness Falls,” a San Francisco sex party that took place in a pitch-black space. The website billed it as “a sex party, a happening, maybe an orgy, maybe just a bunch of people freaked out in a dark room.” The prospect was thrilling. With the lights off, there would be no comparison shopping, no awkward conversations, and no shame. This was my chance for anything-goes, emotionally unfettered fucking.

There were, however, plenty of rules: all men must be accompanied by a woman; don’t converse socially; don’t take drugs; don’t wear glowsticks around your winkie; crawl, don’t walk, to avoid crashing into people; ask before touching; place condoms in the proper receptacles; be prepared for homoerotic contact. And I still had questions. Did everyone get naked right away? How exactly did you approach someone you’d like to fool around with? Would people actually fuck, or would they just grope each other? Should you leave your shoes on?

But my biggest question was whom I should bring, since I was horribly single.

There were plenty of rules: don’t take drugs; don’t wear glowsticks around your winkie.

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