Thursday, May 2, 2013

Mary's first orgy.


If you see this, you are at a crap orgy. 



I used to go to orgies. 

I started going shortly after I got my job at the commercial dungeon. Another submissive from the D, Miss Ginger, introduced me to a skinny blond guy friend of hers that she'd nicknamed Twinky and he and I hit it off. During our dirty talk Twinky would say that he wanted us to have a threesome with another man. Twinky had always wanted to give a blow job, and he wanted me to be there when it happened. 

That wasn't a fantasy of mine, but I was down for an orgy even though I didn't know where to find one. So Twinky and I looked where all newbie sexual deviants look: craigslist. 

We found an ad with one picture of a sex swing advertising an orgy party for male/female couples or single females only. This is a common orgy rule so that the parties don't get overrun by sketchy single guys.  In the ad, there was a phone number for the female half of the couple to call to RSVP. 

I talked to a nice enough sounding middle aged man named John who claimed his parties were full of 'sexy Hollywood types.' The party was at his home that he owned with his wife, who was going to be out of town the actual night of the party. This was the first of many times I would get invited to an orgy at the home of a husband and wife, in which the wife was co-incidentally out of town on the night of the party. Since single men aren't usually welcome in the swinger community, so some lie about having a female partner so they don't look creepy (which they are and not for wanting lots of sex, but for being huge liars).   

The party was at a light green ranch home at the end of a cul de sac in Encino. The front lawn was overgrown with weeds and high grass. Twinky and I were actually pretty high on weed, and we climbed right over the brush to the front door. John answered the door. He looked mid-40’s, white, and was of average height. He was balding in the front with a long ponytail in the back. John wore a terry cloth robe that was untied with black dress socks and Crocs. Dick in the wind. 

“The hotties are here!” That was how he summoned our arrival to the other guests. This alarmed me. It suggested that we were the only hotties at the party, and you never want to the hottest one at the orgy. 

The house wasn't a dump but it wasn't fancy. The furniture had been pushed out of the way to make way for a dance floor. I don't remember what kind of music was playing but no one was dancing. An Magnovox TV and VCR were set up in the living room playing old school porn, like the kind where the actors had pubic hair. There was a coffee table stacked with vintage Penthouses and Hustlers, their pages warped by moisture.  It’s like we were in an electronics museum and a porn museum at the same time. There was an indoor Jacuzzi that was way too frothy. We went outside to smoke more weed. 

A group of people our own age were in the backyard smoking cigs and drinking out of plastic red cups. We introduced ourselves. A man pulled out a folding chair for me. Another man brought out a folding chair for Twinky, lit his cigarette and handed him a beer. I'd never seen straight guys be so courteous to one another. Here's another orgy principle - hetero men are super nice to each other because they need the approval of other men to before they can fuck their dates. 

I was getting fawned all over as well, by men and women, although that wasn’t a new experience for me. ;)  The kids our age were OK to socialize with, but I didn’t want to get naked with them. Nobody was gross but no one was that good looking either, except for this one dude who looked like Henry Rollins and his girlfriend who was a tiny redhead in a white dress that looked just like the one Marilyn Monroe wore in The Seven Year Itch.  One girl said she was going back to Iraq in a few days and she wanted to have some girl on girl action before she left. Her husband kept announcing that over and over to the group but there were no takers. 

My date and I decided to sneak away to make out. We found an empty room, dark with red walls and red sheets. Soon after my skirt was up over my head, my thong panties were-who knows where?- while I was being orally serviced. At a normal party if you and your date sneak away to a guest bedroom to get it on, and someone accidentally catches you, it's an embarrassing, shameful situation for everyone. Not at an orgy! Someone at the party might hear a moan, or detect a whiff of pussy, and suddenly all the guests are storming the bedroom to get in on the action. 

So the door busted open and the not-gross-but-not-that-attractive party guests watched us. Henry and the Redhead jumped in bed with us and started going at it. John came in and hovered right over us and kept whispering, "That’s so horny!" This was super distracting and not sexy. And I had never heard the word 'horny' used in that way in sentence before.  Twinky shot his load all over the Redhead's face, but there was no way I could have an orgasm under those circumstances. I found my thong panties in a corner and we said goodbye and wormed our way through the weeds and vowed never to return to a craigslist sex event. We did make an agreement, however, that we would keep going to new sex parties until we struck orgy gold (all hotties, mansions, pools, bi-guys, free drugs, etc.)  And we did find all those things before going our separate ways. Last I heard, Twinky married a woman. Horny

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Why my boyfriend sucks.

"Don't buy me! I am lame!" -A:Muse


I have a boyfriend and he sucks.

Last week he surprised me with a ski trip to Mammoth Mountain. We drove 6 hours, got to our hotel, and realized that he forgot to pack my vibrator (which is the indomitable Hitachi Magic Wand-buy one as soon you are are done reading!) Beautiful alpine mountain skiing, hot tubs, and cocoa with brandy, all free for 4 days, but no orgasms! I google-mapped 'sex shop' and the nearest one was in San Francisco so we went to a nearby Rite Aid and found a $20 vibrator in the condom aisle. It looked like a pink and purple computer mouse. 

And we took my new toy back to the hotel and it barely vibrated. But boy did I try to feel something. I squeezed it between my thighs. I placed it on the floor and did a split over it. Then I got in downward dog - not with the vibrator, I just need to stretch out my muscles after all that straining and struggling. 

A few night later I was home alone. I had just taken an Ambien. If you have never taken Ambien, here is how it works: you must swallow the pill and lay down in your bed to sleep right away. If you stay awake you end up in this trippy haze where you do things that you won't remember the next day. So I swallowed my pill and the next morning I checked my email. I had a response from the Lifestyle Sex Toy Group apologizing for my bad experience with their mouse vibrator. Apparently in my Ambien-induced state I had sent a email to the company expressing my extreme dissatisfaction with their product. They offered to send me another one for free if I mailed them a copy of the receipt from the original defective vibrator. First of all, I didn't want another one of their crappy vibrators. I don't think mine was defective, but that it's a substandard product. And second of all, who keeps the receipt from a vibrator purchase. In all the excitement of bringing a new one home, those receipts tend to get lost. 

OK, so my boyfriend doesn't suck. But drugstore vibrators do. Stay away ladies! 

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Things my parents taught me about sex.

This was in front of my neighbor's apartment one morning. I didn't ask. 


Earlier tonight I chatting with a bartender about last night's Oscars. He said that he'd been watching it with his 5 year old son and everything was going fine until Ted the CGI teddy bear came out and started talking about orgies. The little boy asked his dad, 'what's an orgy?' so the bartender dad answered, 'It's a like drinking game for adults.' He said that was the best answer he could come up with on the spot, and was hoping that his son's kindergarten teacher wouldn't be calling soon to tell him that the young boy was asking the kids on the playground to play 'orgy.'

I don't have kids, don't want them and I don't envy those who need to come up with a sanitized definition of orgy or gang bang or cum shot or whatever 5 year old kids hear on TV or online. But it did remind me of some awkward educational moments that I had with my parents during my formative years. 

1. Babies come out of your vagina.
My mother whispered this into my ear at the age of 4 after she got pregnant with my brother. 

2. Figure out what masturbation means by your damn self. 
My parents were big Wapner fans and as we watched an episode of People's Court, the female plaintiff accused the defendant of masturbating in front of her. 8-year old me asked my mother what that meant and she said, "I'm too embarrassed to tell you what that means." 

3. Babies are made when the sperm and egg come together. 
OK, got it. But how do these 2 elements find each other? That information was not included in one and only official 'talk' after I turned 10. 

4. You are too young to have relations. 
I was 19* and I asked my parents if I could spend the weekend with some dude I'd only known for a few months at a cabin in Vermont. I pretended like I didn't know what 'relations' meant so I could get someone to say the word 'sex.' 
*I'd lost my virginity 3 years before, but they didn't know.

So what'd you think of the Oscar telecast guys?