Last weekend a friend hosted a private sex party, and during it I did something that I may have never done before — and that thing occurred during a threeway, between James, me, and C. Which is pretty normal (although always fun!), but in this threeway I was fucking C doggystyle while she went down on James. She was particularly in the moment and zone: she’d been properly warmed up by being tied to a cross, spanked, and caressed, by me, James, and James’ lover Helena, who is very small, delicate, and, I learned, good with her small, soft hands.

So there we were, configured beautifully for fucking C from two sides, and James lifted his hands at about a forty-five degree angle from his shoulders, in the universal Eiffel Tower sign. I have many flaws, like all humans, but I am not one to leave off such a moment, so I put my hands up, and there we were: in the Eiffel Tower. Have I ever actually done one before? At the time I didn’t think about it, but now I’m wondering if that was my first.

The people we saw walking by laughed and cheered. Then C stopped fellatio to look up, and she realized what was happening. She began laughing, but if she said anything I don’t recall what, because soon she was back to her task (and pleasure).

The party was slow to start that night, and it felt more like a social club in which everyone wore underwear. We were among the first group to get down to hardcore fucking. Seemingly every minute, someone or some couple would wander by, and they’d catch my eye or vice-versa, and I’d end up taking one hand from C’s hips in order to wave and smile. It wasn’t even my party! But I had shown up early to help set up. Maybe I’m just a naturally friendly guy. I can’t remember if I got high-fives from the passersby.

Tomorrow is another party, so tonight I plan to drink some herbal tea, maybe watch Phantom Thread, read more of the Slutever book, and go to bed early. In yoga they say that one part of the body must be stable in order to enable mobility in other parts of the body. Same thing with hedonism, if one isn’t to end up a warped, psychotic, bleary-eyed mess babbling incoherently about the goblins coming up the drainpipe to grab yer lucky charms in the night. Okay, that’s a little extreme: some stability is necessary if one is to maintain an otherwise productive and useful life.