Friday, May 27, 2005
LET'S GO TO THE SEX PARTY
Okay, so you and your partner are on your way to your first sex party, you have managed to thread your way into the inner circle of Those In The Know. You've avoided those creeps who tell you, "Well, the best parties are private of course, and you have to know someone like ME for a bit before I can recommend you." One gay guy we ran into warned us ominously about trying to tap new acquaintances for invites. "Right away they'll feel like you're using them," he explained. Well pardon me, baby face, isn't that how most of the world's business gets conducted?
I am so ready for this line of business, because I spent years in the film biz trying to get my writing out there. It's the same process as this almost. You try to get an agent to get your foot in the door. You not only have to pitch your story, you have to pitch yourself. You try to make them lick your palm. Or at least give you the first two rewrites. After that, I would probably want to move on anyway, interest wanes.
Getting into the good parties is like screenwriting that way, you have to schmooze, you have to work your way into the circle of people who can do you good. And so now you've met the right people, who can wrangle invites or forward them to you. Surreptitiously, sometimes, but then you have to bend the rules now and then to get in the door.
You have this little fetish outfit you've rigged up, and dammit you want to wear it somewhere. Somehow mom's dinner party next Saturday just doesn't seem like the right venue for it. And that's a shame really, 'cause it's got this cool black leather civil war cap to go with it.
Also, on the home front, you and your partner have discussed the issues involved about attending such a party, you know each other's sentiments. Now you may be wondering, are you really going to have fun in spite of the fluttering butterflies in the tummy, and a certain level of anxiety you may both be feeling.
You knock on the door, hoping you have arrived at the right sex party. It is always a good sign when you're greeted at the front door by the host himself, and he's quite naked. We felt encouraged by this.
A, as I shall call him, has been running his own private little "massage" parties for over a year now, averaging about one every five weeks. Since he appears to me as a very active bisexual man himself, these parties tend to have a bi male flavor. He lets straight males in only if they bring a woman partner. Women do make an appearance, but the ratio is about 9:3 men to women. However, we are told that the women who DO appear are real players. So I am feeling encouraged by that news, ever hopeful that I can hook up with a few interesting women at these events.
We're invited into an apartment in San Francisco near the UC Medical Center. The place is long and narrow, furnished in a whatever sort of style. It has the feel of my old student digs back in Berkeley. But it radiates the feel of being a man's place, judging by the lack of concern for certain niceties that a woman would address. Let's say it has a functional quality. Space is obviously going to be a concern. By the time extra mattresses are brought out and draped on the living room floor, and another in the bedroom, there is barely room to move around. Our host says he's had 25 people here before. I can believe it, but where did he put them all? People undress and plop their clothes wherever. Things don't seem to go missing though, at least we had no complaints.
Food is a bit iffy. People arrive with an odd assortment of dips and cheeses, but no bread or crackers. Bread arrives later, and is gladly pounced on by all. Remember though, you're not here to eat. Not that anyway. But when to eat dinner should cross your mind when you head out to a party like this. It's like getting ready for your athletic event, you want to eat early enough so you can digest the food and get a boost from it, but not so late that it hangs heavy in your stomach and interferes with your life later in the night.
Sex parties usually charge at least around twenty bucks per entry. Some of the more fashionable ones run nearly sixty dollars per couple. The "admission fee" for this party is basically you bring something our host can use. He provides a short list when you first get the invite, starting with food items and running thru DVD players, blue jeans, pot, Ecstasy, whatever. He's easy.
He is not so easy on smokers, who he plainly mentions are not welcome at his parties. More on this later.
TO BE CONTINUED
I am so ready for this line of business, because I spent years in the film biz trying to get my writing out there. It's the same process as this almost. You try to get an agent to get your foot in the door. You not only have to pitch your story, you have to pitch yourself. You try to make them lick your palm. Or at least give you the first two rewrites. After that, I would probably want to move on anyway, interest wanes.
Getting into the good parties is like screenwriting that way, you have to schmooze, you have to work your way into the circle of people who can do you good. And so now you've met the right people, who can wrangle invites or forward them to you. Surreptitiously, sometimes, but then you have to bend the rules now and then to get in the door.
You have this little fetish outfit you've rigged up, and dammit you want to wear it somewhere. Somehow mom's dinner party next Saturday just doesn't seem like the right venue for it. And that's a shame really, 'cause it's got this cool black leather civil war cap to go with it.
Also, on the home front, you and your partner have discussed the issues involved about attending such a party, you know each other's sentiments. Now you may be wondering, are you really going to have fun in spite of the fluttering butterflies in the tummy, and a certain level of anxiety you may both be feeling.
You knock on the door, hoping you have arrived at the right sex party. It is always a good sign when you're greeted at the front door by the host himself, and he's quite naked. We felt encouraged by this.
A, as I shall call him, has been running his own private little "massage" parties for over a year now, averaging about one every five weeks. Since he appears to me as a very active bisexual man himself, these parties tend to have a bi male flavor. He lets straight males in only if they bring a woman partner. Women do make an appearance, but the ratio is about 9:3 men to women. However, we are told that the women who DO appear are real players. So I am feeling encouraged by that news, ever hopeful that I can hook up with a few interesting women at these events.
We're invited into an apartment in San Francisco near the UC Medical Center. The place is long and narrow, furnished in a whatever sort of style. It has the feel of my old student digs back in Berkeley. But it radiates the feel of being a man's place, judging by the lack of concern for certain niceties that a woman would address. Let's say it has a functional quality. Space is obviously going to be a concern. By the time extra mattresses are brought out and draped on the living room floor, and another in the bedroom, there is barely room to move around. Our host says he's had 25 people here before. I can believe it, but where did he put them all? People undress and plop their clothes wherever. Things don't seem to go missing though, at least we had no complaints.
Food is a bit iffy. People arrive with an odd assortment of dips and cheeses, but no bread or crackers. Bread arrives later, and is gladly pounced on by all. Remember though, you're not here to eat. Not that anyway. But when to eat dinner should cross your mind when you head out to a party like this. It's like getting ready for your athletic event, you want to eat early enough so you can digest the food and get a boost from it, but not so late that it hangs heavy in your stomach and interferes with your life later in the night.
Sex parties usually charge at least around twenty bucks per entry. Some of the more fashionable ones run nearly sixty dollars per couple. The "admission fee" for this party is basically you bring something our host can use. He provides a short list when you first get the invite, starting with food items and running thru DVD players, blue jeans, pot, Ecstasy, whatever. He's easy.
He is not so easy on smokers, who he plainly mentions are not welcome at his parties. More on this later.
TO BE CONTINUED
Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home
<< Home
