Two years ago, I never thought I’d be the type of person to go to an orgy. Hell, I never thought I’d be the type of person to go to an orgy until I was physically at the orgy. I went because it was a masc4masc gay orgy and I simply could not pass that up. It was surely a gift from Sappho herself!

I came across the page for the orgy when the organizer followed me on Instagram. According to them, they were inviting people that they “didn’t necessarily want to fuck, but wanted to be in a room where they were fucking.” I was flattered. The screening process was pretty intense: the organizer first interviewed me for an hour and then interviewed a personal reference of mine for the same amount of time. The organizer asked if I had ever done something to harm another person, and I answered that I hit someone with my car once. On accident. Apparently that was fine for orgy attendee material, considering some of the things other candidates admitted to. 

Some of my concerns about attending this orgy were that I would be both the brownest and the fattest person there. The featured attendees on Instagram seemed to be mostly white, skinny, androgynous types–the kind you see in modeling ads for gender neutral underwear. They were hot, but hot people inspire a fear in me that I simply cannot explain. Sometimes when a hot person enters a room, I just leave. Yet here I was, preparing to be in a room full of hot people fucking, with the possibility that I might ALSO be fucking in that room. I wasn’t sure I could handle it, but again, masc4masc gay orgy, once in a lifetime opportunity, yada yada. Sometimes (oftentimes) the pussy wins over the brain.  

My fears were mostly laid to rest upon arrival. Everyone was hot, yes, and there were people of all sizes and people of color, and boy I cannot stress enough how hot everybody was. Luckily, a woman that I knew already was also attending. We talked about things beforehand and that made me feel much more at ease. Other than that, just me and a bunch of hot strangers. 

Now, onto my first orgy regret. During introductions, we each gave our names and something about ourselves. What I meant to say for my intro was “I’m very awkward, so if you want to do something with me, you need to tell me explicitly because I’m not good with social cues.” But in my nervous state, what came out instead of “I’m awkward” was “I have weapons grade autism.” Twice.

Real smooth, I know. To be fair, people laughed but boy was that awkward. 

To settle into a shared space, I like to take up residence in the kitchen. I brought a handmade focaccia and shakshuka for breakfast on Saturday, and made everybody my special coffee (coffee with a twist of salt) for the rest of the weekend. (Did I mention this was a weekend-long orgy? Really diving into the deep end here). 

Not to brag, but I was awarded ‘Most Helpful Slut’ and got a metal wand-shaped flogger as a prize. The second I heard that the title was up for grabs, I knew it had to be mine. I was also tickled when the organizer said that I would make a wonderful service sub someday, and I’m only a little embarrassed to be sharing that on the world wide web.

My second orgy regret was that I was too shy to ask for what I wanted. I’m a switch, so I did some topping, but when it came to bottoming, I chickened out of asking for the favor. To be honest, I had a moment alone where I really struggled with feeling desirable enough to ask for something like that. I sat in the hot tub for a while and had a good time passively watching other people perform some very impressive sex acts, but not without a lingering feeling of regret. 

Quiz: What makes a gay orgy a great orgy? 

A) The collective average hotness of the attendees

B) The variety of sex toys available

C) The snacks


The answer…is none of the above.

It’s friendship. With C as a close runner up. 

I think the best thing I took away from this experience was genuine human connection. I met some really incredible people: leatherworkers, dancers, and artists from all over. I guess there’s no kind of bonding like the kind you do at an orgy. No, not that kind of bonding… although there was also plenty of that. 

I didn’t know what to expect going into this. Part of me was half anticipating some kind of dark, spooky sex dungeon that we’d be locked in for a weekend. Another part of me was wondering if this was some kind of ploy to sacrifice a bunch of gays to a demon a la Jennifer’s Body. What I wasn’t expecting was meeting a group of cool new friends, gathering around a vulva-shaped charcuterie board, jumping into a lake, and just having a really good time. We even went antiquing the next weekend! 

I learned a couple of important lessons at that orgy. The first one is not being afraid to ask for what you want and the second is that poppers are very fun (in moderation). While I’m not totally sure if I would attend an orgy again, it was an exciting new experience that makes for a good story and really shaped me into the kind of person that can say, ‘Yeah, I go to gay orgies’.  

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