Pillow Fights

This month brought back-to-back gang bangs; two consecutive Saturdays of me at my little sign-in table giving hugs to the new guys. Hugging is not a necessary party of the sign-in process, but I genuinely enjoy when we get new guys at the parties. It also seems to ease the nerves of the ones who show up with little to no experience in this world of "alternative" sex. Having a half-naked woman offer to hug them first thing in the door seems to help get newbies into the headspace that the parties are an environment where sex is going to be readily available as long as they're courteous and it's consensual.

One of the newbies this month is a completely adorable gentleman that I've since been chatting with on Fet and have tentative plans to get together with 1:1 at some point in the near future. Funnily enough, he's a sex party doppelgänger for a friend of mine's boyfriend. I did a double take when he first walked in, thinking things were about to get slightly awkward. (I have yet to experience running into somebody I know from "vanilla world" in my sexy escapades, so I don't have any frame for how I would handle it.)

While I do have my own standards about having sex with committed men, there is a line when it comes to men who are committed to friends and/or family members. I would never have sex with my friend's boyfriend (unless, of course, they both told me they had talked about it and it would be okay), but I will definitely have sex with this clever, adorable man with a fantastic dick who just happens to be a boyfriend look-alike. 

In the course of our messages, he asked how I first got involved in going to gang bangs. I'm the type of girl that's always prided herself on her dick taking abilities, and a gang bang seemed like a decent opportunity to test my performance on a grander scale. I had Now-hubby's stamp of approval, and the handful of guys I fucked in college seemed generally pleased, but I was curious how I'd fare with one evening's participation levels in the double digits.

I think the first time I realized I was an irredeemable slut was at a slumber party in the 4th grade (slightly before I went on a creeper spree taking pictures of my summer camp counselors). Somebody had that Proclaimers album where they're standing facing away from the camera. 

Typical pre-teen girl giggling ensues. omg butts hehehehehe

Later on, I would recognize this same feeling when looking at other girls went beyond, "hm she's kind of pretty" to, "hm I wonder what it would be like to kiss her." Awareness that my perception was just slightly off from those I was around. The Proclaimers album cover was funny, yeah. Butts are hilarious. Yet I also remember thinking, “this makes my stomach feel weird but like in a super good way I wonder what that’s about.”