This story was also written by Julian Carax. I promise that you will read some of my stories soon!

On Saturday we met some friends, Henry and Jill, for happy hour drinks at an unexpectedly fun bar and restaurant that has an unusual theme; it specializes in a rarely-seen kind of food and has a drink menu to match. All food may be ethnic food, but is all drink ethnic drink?

Timing our rendezvous was precarious, as everyone except me had activities scheduled throughout the day. Lea and I were meeting a photographer (specifically, an arty pornographer) after. Jill was giving a seminar and Henry retrieving a book from one of their other lovers, I think. Jill arrived first and posted up at the L in the bar, then I arrived and ordered a wine-like drink. I’d first met Jill and Henry at a party, when they were new to the scene. Both drew me due to their intellectual and carnal natures. The venn diagram where those two features overlap contain many of my favorite people. Intellectuals without carnality are fine but not so good at sex parties. Sex maniacs are great but often not so good to talk to. Plus, sex maniacs who aren’t inclined to question the nature of their reality rarely find their ways to parties, or, if they do, don’t have the mental preparation necessary to indulge their desires and feel good about the indulgence after.

Lea had met them briefly, but our ways parted at that party. I wanted Lea to truly meet them, and she arrived not long after Jill and Henry. I showed all three the arty pornographer’s work, which seemed to especially attract Jill. For many people, pornography is just out there, online, to be consumed; it’s not thought of as something that people consciously produce, curate, disseminate. To me, the creative process is as interesting, if not more, as the consumption process. We talked about the nature of moving from consumer to producer and told stories about our lives and futures. Jill and Henry may make an unusual move, away from their current, mostly normal life and into a much more unusual way and state of being. It’s a way of being I could never do, but I like hearing about smart people doing something different.

Time passed and due to the late start our arty photographer showed up and we merged groups. I love the moment when different worlds meet and one hopes they dock harmoniously instead of exploding cacophoninously, and this one worked well. Our arty photographer lives out of town and seemed a bit taken aback by the group’s aggressively garrulous questions about his life and work. Yet drink smoothed things, as did mutual interests. We’re all part of a secret club, whose members mostly find each other online, and the sense of secrecy and being set apart is part of the appeal. Many people are content with normalcy.

Eventually time passed and our arty photographer had another engagement, while I sussed the mood and popped the question: Did Jill and Henry want to come back for a drink? With a previous lover I’d made some engagement overtures towards them that were politely rebuffed, and I figured a 50/50 chance for acceptance. Jill and Henry did some complex back and forth looks, gauging each other, and accepted.

Back at the apartment, I opened wine and offered fancy whisky. We chatted for a surprisingly long time, especially about mutual interests in books. As the conversation petered due to length, I asked the magic question: Did Jill want to be blindfolded, spanked, and paddled?

Hesitation.

Then.

Yes.

I grabbed the blindfold, faster maybe than Jill expected, and put it on her. Then I encouraged Lea to take the lead. A lot of girls won’t lead, due to temperament and submissiveness. Lea is not among them—she is different from normal girls in many ways, explaining why it has been so hard for her to find her place in the universe. She adjusted the blindfold and began kissing Jill. Jill responded. Henry and I began kissing Jill’s neck (in a group sex situation, think about what is most useful to do, then do that). Lea stripped Jill, surprisingly fast. Most guys learn to go slower than we think we need to, but Lea felt no speed limit in the moment. As if Lea had become a witch, Jill’s clothes disappeared. I picked up Jill and brought her to the bed, where she was promptly bent over.

Lea has turned her love of domming girls into expertise at domming girls. Maybe it seems instinctive that love would turn into expertise, but it’s not always that simple: to get good, one needs deliberate practice, repetition, and feedback. Until recent, most of Lea’s experience domming other girls consisted of young and very inexperienced girls who are afraid and don’t really know what they want. Which is fine, we’ve all been young and inexperienced, but it’s not a good way to get feedback and develop one’s persona.

When I first saw Lea domming experienced girls, I was amused, because Lea’s passion did not match her technique. The former was enormous and the latter ineffectual. She’s learned a thing or two in the sex-positive community and via attending sex parties, though. With Jill, Lea prowled like a lion, first delicately teasing Jill, then smacking her hard, with a paddle, and listening to Jill’s moaning reactions. I joined it at times, spanking Jill, keeping her psychologically off-balance, so that she didn’t know exactly who was behind her or what was going to happen.

Jill loved it. When Lea decided Jill had enough, Lea flipped her over and started going down on her. Soon, I lost track of what was happening. I may have started having sex with Lea from behind while she went down on Jill. Or did Henry have sex with Lea first? I can’t say now. I think I did, first, from behind, and at some point Lea came for the first time. Then again, and again, and again, in rapid succession. The phrase, “That escalated quickly” is somewhat popular online and is highly applicable here.

Jill lost her blindfold at some point, and I tagged in, sensing, perhaps, that Jill needed some dick in her… life. Based on the way she moaned, groaned, screamed, and writhed during sex, that seemed to be the right decision. I was in a foggy delirium of sex dreams, where fantasy, reality, and pleasure had merged together. I don’t know how long we had sex. I do know that Jill climaxed at least once more, and maybe more than once, but she too had been subsumed by eroticism. I finished and came as hard as I ever have.

Lea and Henry were still going, somehow. While Lea and Henry had sex, Jill and I spooned and watched. Jill is, I think, in the majority of women in that she craves physical closeness after sex. And I loved her skin and body. When Henry and Lea finished, we moved into a group puddle. I was exhausted and cleansed of tension. I don’t even remember the eventual separation, the cleanup, the offering of water, the moment when the normal world resumes (as shown by dressing again), the departure. The next morning I woke up devoid of physical desire but eager to write.

We humans crave group sex. We four make our fantasies reality. We are the Elon Musks of the sex world. You, dear reader, may not be able to alter the transit industry in favor of greater sustainability by founding a new company, but you probably can execute some of your other dreams.