Welcome to the Playground (Part III): The Aftermath

My head was spinning…

Both figuratively and literally

My body was pleasurably hyper-stimulated

A climatic foreshadowing pulled my legs apart

Made my body tremble

Pushed my moans to a higher frequency...

My head was spinning…

Both figuratively and literally

Surrounded by 360 degrees of sex

My eyes chugged down every arrangement

Swallowing every naked inch of flesh

My brain cells were exploding

My memory was overloaded

But you can’t see everything at once…

I wish my eyes were present to see

The volume…

The distance…

The whiteness of my own seed

Blasting off into an orgasm-induced blindness

Everything faded to black

I came so hard...I slipped into a micro-coma…

     Getting up to find something to clean up with, Max returns with a sock, “Where’d it go?”  Checking both of our bodies, there wasn’t a trace of semen on either of us.  Looking around, I’m reminded of Ben Stiller’s lost seed in There’s Something About Mary.  Finding nada, he laughs, “It must’ve got lost in the crowd.”  Gross, but funny; I hurried up and got dressed before someone returned the favor.
     Although I was completely sober, I felt drunk stumbling out of Queericulum.  My mind couldn’t grasp everything that just occurred.  Bewildered.  Beautiful.  Drowsy.  I never felt so deliciously depleted.  I never doubted my short term memory.  Did that really just happen?

(The Next Day)

     Boarding a flight to San Diego, I noticed something completely different about myself.  It required a great deal of consciousness to stay out of other people’s personal space.  Shuffling down the packed aisle of the airplane, I was walking a tad too close.  I had to keep myself from bumping into people, sliding against them.
     Participating in an orgy obliterated my sense of personal space. I wanted to openly talk to people I didn’t know.  I wanted to touch strangers.  I wanted to rest my hand on the thigh of the cute boy sitting next to me.  I was catching this kind of impulse throughout the entire day.  It actually required effort to not invade the personal boundaries of the public.  Not cool.  (Well, maybe a little cool.)

Have I created a monster?

     Never before has a sex act affected my view of the outside world.  Never before has a sex act skewed my perspective this dramatically.  Sure, my experiences with the world find its way into my bedroom, but never the other way around.  I’m more curious than scared.  I have the will power to stay appropriate until I figure out a balance, but the fact that it requires will power is a cause for concern.

I will definitely do it again

Maybe I’ll alter my participation levels to keep it fresh

Perhaps stay dressed and become a glutton for eye candy?

Maybe I’ll include more friends next time?

There’s a world of possibilities…

I can’t wait for the next Queericulum this summer!

Welcome to the Playground (Part II): Collective Beauty

Casual

Cosmic

Clothed conversations co-existed with carnal collisions.

     It was all that I’ve ever dreamed.  A clash of my most curious theories ignited my Saturday night.  Sharing a couch: his naked thighs, punctuated by my head in between, rubbed against neighborly knees, dressed in denim.  His moans mingled well with their heated political debate.  My committed bobbing contrasted with their heads shaking sideways, “No, Obama’s second term is not guaranteed!”

As he pours himself a second helping of tea

I poured a second coat of saliva over my pumping fist

Synchronicity at it’s most fascinating

     “He has a cute, little ass,” one voice says.
     “I know. You call Ryan yet? What’s his ETA?”  References to my naked body, however brief, excited me.  I felt like an exhibitionist, rocking my hips to the rhythm of the Indian electronica.  Voyeuristically, I looked over to another couple following our lead; the contours of his muscular back transfixed me.  Watching him thrust deeply into his partner, I could see his muscles firing off: a beautiful anatomy lesson.

The dance floor was packed

The coffee tables was full of conversation and laughter

We climbed the walls to reach the highest heights of ecstasy

Being a part of this social nexus stimulated me to no end.

A harmony I have yearned to hear for so long.

     Occasionally, someone had to do walk around us to get through the crowded room.  Their touch across my naked backside was refreshing and reaffirming.  Their foreign fingertips would trace the lines of my tattoo in acknowledgement.  The brave explored my body a bit further. In a strange way, I felt edified.

The unity I felt was sublime.

     Looking over the sea of flesh radiating and writhing, I reclaimed my love for humanity.  In this universal exposure, our individual flaws faded away as we took on a collective beauty.  It was a feast for the eyes seeing the different combinations and arrangements love, lust and life can take. 

All the different shapes and speeds

The myriad of shades and styles

Melded into one.

Welcome to the Playground (Part I): This Year's Queericulum

     From the floor, Max complains, “Man, I've been on my feet all day.”

     On the couch, I’m massaging his bare feet in my lap, “Poor Papa,” a kiss connects my lips to the sole of his foot. Never in life have I interacted this way in public. Sitting beside other people on a crowded sofa, sharing elbowroom, I casually gave in to my podophilic proclivities. While massaging, licking and sucking his feet and toes, I also maintained a conversation with my other friends: something about the uselessness of private vehicles in San Francisco.

At “Queericulum”

Social sex acts are appropriate.

In a room called “The Playground”

Fellatio and fellowship goes hand and hand

     “Ooh, I like that! Keep working that foot fetish,” a black man shouts in my direction. Breaking my trance, I thank him with a grin before returning to my favorite dish. “You picked a fine pair of feet there!” Laughing, his attention returns to his own group of friends.

It scared me how natural it felt.

Displaying my most intimate parts took zero adjustment:

No alcohol...No drugs

Solely under the influence of my desires

P.D.A. or public nudity is one thing

But, this is something else…

How did I end up here?

     If God had the balls to anoint me the architect of Heaven: I would design it like this. A wonderful composite of my sweetest, most surreal, dreams, there was dancing, dessert and nudity. A cozy lounge with lots of fucking surface, it was a juicy juxtaposition of partying and penetration. The crowd was so open-minded that the extreme aspects of this gathering became matter of fact.

All I could think was, “I’m not so crazy, after all.”

The second voice chimed in, “Yes, you are.”

“Well, I’m not the only one!”

“You’re right, maybe there’s hope for you, yet.”

“Hopefully, it’s hope and not beautiful bait”

     Max interrupts my mono-dialogue by pressing the ball of his foot between my legs. He’s ready to go deeper. Slowly pulling his pants off from his airborne ankles, his bottomless body spread as dressed people walked by. Something stirred up in me. Something in my mind blossomed as his eight-inch erection flopped in front of pedestrian eyes.

In a moment of brilliance

All facets of interpersonal relations shined in an illustrious unison

My eyes heard The Omni-Chord ring silently

If this is bait, consider me trapped…