Last Sunday night I teased Santa while he was blindfolded and tied to a chair. I and two other vixens ran our fingers over his chest and thighs, kissed his neck and nibbled on his ears. Later, he rewarded me for being so naughty … but not before we all exchanged erotic gifts: Massage oil, kinky sex coupons and a butt plug were among the Secret Santa treasures. The other three Santas each had their turn in the hot seat, and they unloaded their packs with generous cheer. Mrs. Claus was in such high spirits, seeing that her guests were making merry in all sorts of positions. There was a lot more than kissing going on, and not a single sprig of mistletoe in sight! Need I mention that my candy-cane striped stockings stayed on the whole time, and they were admired from all angles, near and far? This is normal urban holiday party fun, is it not? I mean we had the tinseled tree, spiked eggnog, and seasonal music—it was as normal as a dysfunctional family Christmas. It’s so normal for me that sometimes I surprise myself with the thought that most people have never attended an erotic party, never had a threesome, never had an orgasm among friends.
“Why doesn’t everybody do this?” asked one sexy elf. Her question sparked a million more in my head. What guy doesn’t fantasize about being at the pleasurable mercy of a multitude of female fingers? What woman doesn’t wonder about tasting the lips of a kindred goddess? Who doesn’t imagine watching a couple make love or being the squirming subject of a voyeur? How could anyone go through life without experiencing such delights? It’s the same reason why people dream about foreign lands but never leave their comfort zone, or stay in their crappy jobs instead of starting their own businesses. It’s what motivates tourists to eat at T.G.I. Friday’s when hundreds of local restaurants could give them a gustatory experience worth writing home about.
When I casually mention “sex party” or “group sex” to people who aren’t acquainted with the scene, they nearly always ask me, “Aren’t you afraid of disease?” This question seems as absurd to me as if I were to ask everyone who drives, “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to crash?” Our fear-based culture is largely responsible for this paranoia of alternative lifestyles. What many people don’t know is that group sex aficionados are generally more aware of safe sex than those who have “normal” sex lives. Think about it: how many people carry dental dams and latex gloves with them in preparation for a drunken one-night stand? I’ve never been to an erotic event where these things weren’t available. And guests don’t fish for expired condoms in their wallets. Nor do they sexually assault the other guests without any introduction. There is basic etiquette at anonymous swinger parties, but I prefer the small, sensual, exclusive apartment gatherings where guests introduce themselves in a “Welcome Circle,” clearly express their intent and state sexual boundaries.
With such high standards of safety—physical and emotional—why isn’t 90 percent of the liberal population having orgies in their spare time? Fear and preference for privacy keep many in the dark, but what seems to be an obstacle for the genuinely curious is lack of opportunity. They feel like they don’t have access to the community. “I wouldn’t know where to look,” one friend told me recently. “How did you get into it?” Well … I was curious and open and in a relationship with someone who was willing to explore. We had some threesomes, and then I found out about the parties through a friend who was into it … word of mouth, I guess. I was just so open to the vast spectrum of erotic experience that the opportunities came to me, and I didn’t resist them. I wasn’t afraid of disease or emotional disconnect or exposing my body to strangers. I wasn’t afraid and yet I understand why so many people are.
While I was backpacking through Europe 10 years ago, I met an American guy in Venice. As we were both traveling alone, we connected and spent a few days hanging out. Nothing sexual happened between us, but he told me he liked group sex. He described orgies in detail. I blasted him with questions: How does it happen? You mean you don’t know anyone? Is it safe? What about disease? I don’t think I could do that … I think I have to be in love with the person I’m sleeping with. He said, “I think you could do it … You seem open.” If only he knew me now.
So I was afraid, I guess, of sex without love. But fear didn’t stop me: Always curious, I learned to embrace it all, from the anonymous to the profound. And I learned that these parties are not just about fucking. Mrs. Claus said, “I don’t do this for the sex, I do it to connect with people.” How could anyone be afraid of spiritual, sensual energy flowing freely through a group of positive, playful people in a safe space? I can’t imagine a better way to celebrate the holiday season. It was a beautiful sight: We were horny that night, loving in a winter wonderland.
