Sex Party Imitates Life?

What Do and Don’t Life and Sex Parties Have in Common?

Well, until this past Saturday, I could not have begun to answer that question. An invitation from an adventurous friend changed that. I’ve always been curious and wanted to go to one. Particularly being a Sexologist, at the very least it’s been on my list for professional edification. Always a good thing to understand your clients’ experiences as much as possible as long as it doesn’t compromise one’s own integrity.

So like in daily life, the first decision is what’s my outfit going to be? How posh? How revealing? How comfortable? How come hither?...decisions many folks make on a daily basis. In general, at least since my promiscuous ‘20’s, I’ve tended toward downplaying, even hiding, my assets. I’ve just never been one to want to attract anyone and everyone just for the sake of being universally sexy; I’ve always just wanted to attract that rare person I actually would want to have sex with. Sadly, those are increasingly far and few between. I’ve only become pickier with age.

After attire considerations and applications (and where to park), it’s about whether you’re going to go with the blue blinking lariat (just-here-to-observe, folks) versus the pink glow (up-for-it-as-long-as-you-ask). I went with the blue, assured I could always be respectfully persuaded otherwise.

But what I found, much to my first surprise, was that I wasn’t even tempted. My friend and I watched all kinds of acts between humans: shows meant for titillating entertainment as well as many inter-personal engagements. At one point, she and I sat cozied into a sofa for almost two hours just watching a variety of coupling - well, technically that term was often out-numbered. She and I companionably chatted, mused, shared observations - not something one would do under such circumstances with just anyone in their lives. Occasionally someone, or two folks would cozy up on the other side of me to watch alongside. Sometimes they would ask, “First time?” - the most common question ventured throughout the night. And just so you know, every person I spoke to and observed out of the 150+ people gathered in this classy commercial space were really, really nice. I’d even say pretty wholesome despite what they were, or weren’t, wearing. The second question most people asked was - “How is this for you?” or “How are you feeling?” and I found both surprisingly hard to answer.

Off the top of my body, repeatedly my first answer was a shrug - not a usual gesture for me. Off the top of my head, my second answer was simply “comfortable” - I mean, certainly no more or no less than I would be at any other public gathering of lots of strangers. The fact that people were wandering around in breast-baring strappy outfits, or caressing bare asses, or making out with one or more people, or wearing ears and a tail and little else, or that there were tables of sex toys, condoms, and sanitizing spray bottles, I didn’t find at all destabilizing. In fact, my favorite thing about the night was that unlike in daily life, or the usual night life of bars and dance clubs, the truth was evident, celebrated, all out in the open: most people there were out for sex - to be attracted, attractive, forward, adventurous, curious, and yes, for some, kinky. In other words, most of us were there to get “lucky” - whatever that meant to any given individual - and not pretending otherwise. If anyone wanted to admire a fabulous set of breasts or someone’s displayed hard-on, no one had a problem with that. In other words, it was a lot more honest than usual life. And I loved that about it - particularly because it’s a group that doesn’t allow entrance until you sign a lawfully-binding waiver and then sequester for an additional verbal briefing with a consequent attestation to exclusively, religiously even, engage in “enthusiastically” consensual practices only. Everyone is very respectful. Not so much, or at least all the time, in usual life.

The other thing I loved about this culture - and I had ample time and birds-eye viewing to posit - that the sexual time and care between genders was remarkably balanced. From what I saw, this is a demographic that sexually gives as it receives, generously. The male-people were just as in to pleasuring the female-bodied people, and visa-versa. Equal-opportunity here. As we know, personally or pornographically, not so true in much of the civilian world.

But was I shocked by anything?

Having been a Sexologist for over a decade and professionally privy to all manner of human sexual experience through tale or deed, I don’t shock easily - with the exceptions of bestiality, cruelty, lack of consent. But there was one thing that did shock me - throughout the evening I felt surprisingly un-aroused. And arousal is something I experience a lot; in general, I find life pretty arousing. So why not with this sex-y party?

It took me until the next day to be able to put my finger on why…and here comes what Life and at least this Sex Party have very much in common…the lack of sensuality. Even between women-folk, there was so little touch and time given and received to feel, and be felt, across all opportunities of skin, texture, turn-on’s. Almost all the activity - and it sometimes was considerable in its endurance - was genital. I saw (and heard) genuine pleasure, sometimes orgasm, but very little sensual savorying of all the notes these bodies can play, and vibrate within.

Of course genital play can be arousing to observe, and experience - I’m certainly not knocking it. I’m just bemoaning how impoverished I suspect the majority of bodies are. Because if even this “sex positive”, equal opportunity, open-minded and open-bodied collection of people are barely touching the majority of each others’ highly arousable surface area, who is?

Shocked? No, I guess not. I have heard perpetually from clients and friends, and have experienced, the longing for more touch – long and slow and thorough and deeply given and received. But saddened? Absolutely.