How to Have Sex with Multiple People at the Same Time in a Relaxed Manner
How to Have Sex with Multiple People at the Same Time in a Relaxed Manner
The orgy invitation email appeared in my
inbox unexpectedly, addressed directly to Gmail; whoever was in charge of the
organization's public relations knew me personally. The subject line was
enticing — "This St. Valentine's Day...," it read in the big text —
and the email concluded by inviting me to "Come and join us on our voyage
down the rabbit hole (or any hole you'd want)." I highlighted the message,
allowing it to linger at the top of my priority inbox like a red mouth. After
that, I pitched the story to my editor.
On the 14th of February, I washed my hair
with lavender Dr. Bronner's, painted my toenails poppy-red, shaved my legs and
labia while hopping on one foot in my tiny shower, chose a pair of silky
underwear, and then carefully rolled on a pair of black thigh highs, which I
clipped to a $75 garter belt I bought online my freshman year of college.
Then I put on a dress and proceeded to the
indicated address, which was enclosed in a second letter and included a phone
number. The wind blew up my skirt and moved between my legs in the cold winter
air.
The book's title, The Bonobo Handshake, comes
from the fact that bonobo monkeys greet each other with oral sex, which is
actually cunnilingus. This is significantly superior to the human greeting of circular
jerking. group Sex At Dawn, a pop-evolutionary psychology book published in 2010,
made headlines for comparing human and bonobo sexuality; one of its primary
points was that monogamy is against human nature. Birds do it, after all. It's
done by bees. Even the trees participate. So, you want to screw? The argument
is that our sexual preoccupations are social constructs, and it might be
preferable if we followed the lead of bonobos.
The sex party was hosted in an apartment,
with the host bringing us into a dimly lit living room with candles and a floor
lamp set to its lowest level. In case you were wondering, we shook hands like
humans, not bonobos.
The apartment smelt like incense, with smoke
rising in white columns from pillars burning throughout the space. It was
considerate of them to us something to make us forget how our bodies smelled
while they worked. There was champagne and candy, conversation hearts mixed
with boxed chocolates and caramels. Condoms and lubrication were also strewn
over the place like sweets. I poured myself a glass of white wine, drank it
faster than I should have, and then poured another.
I probably knew 10 to 20% of the folks in the
room. We lingered with our glasses of wine, talking around the truth because
we were all conditioned to think of sex as something shameful and private. We
were getting itchy after standing around for what seemed like an eternity,
fully clothed, conversing, and introducing ourselves. Occasionally, one of us
would massage the other's arm or down the back in a long, smooth gesture. This
would turn into a signal later in the night — should we? — but for now, it was
merely a reminder of why we had all come.
Then, because I'm always the first to do
things like this, I pulled off my dress and drew it over my head. Shirts and
jeans popped off all around me like a chain reaction, turning the room a
fleshier hue of heat. A couple who had arrived as a pair began kissing. A
girl in glittery lingerie hung the heart-shaped insert that came with the box
of chocolates and put the night's safe word — cacao, after the Portlandia
sketch — on it.
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