The little sex party that could.

It had been years since I last attended a sex party, and even longer since I attended an event with such a diversity of interests and people.

I've enjoyed some time off in these last two weeks, and so I took opportunity to turn Pride this year into a personal adventure of sensual debauch and revelry. I needed it. After a burlesque show, a fetish social, a barbecue at a leatherbar, enjoying the Dyke March, and other assorted events throughout the city, I was ready for a nice conclusion. Late last week, it seemed fitting then to end my carnal cabaret with a sex party at one of the city's more bohemian clubs. For me, Pride this year was about straightfoward, sensual fun.

There's an unwritten law somewhere in the annals of sexual adventure that when word gets out that an open sex party is happening, single men will flock there in droves. You can smell it in the air.

I settled somewhere comfortable and began scanning the club, finding myself receiving a sexy smile from a brunette at the bar. It took me a moment before I realized that it was one of the evening's t-girls who was checking me out, and I smiled back while smirking to myself.

Now, for all the experiences I've enjoyed in my life, I've only been with one transgendered person, and that was early in my sexuality. It came as a serious shock to me actually, because it wasn't until after the fact that I had been informed. (Another story for another time.) Still, while not my typical scene, I'm open enough to acknowledge attractiveness when I see it, and must admit to the occasional fantasy or j/o session there. Transgendered partners remain largely uncharted waters for this particular slut, although FTMs intrigue me.

Apart from dancing and drinking, precious little was happening for the first two or three hours of the party. Bisexual porn played on a few monitors. A large blonde woman in a black corset and a charming bare behind socialized with friends. A deliciously boiish lesbian couple came, found their place at a table, and snuggled casually. A cluster here or there of seminude gay men chitchatted. Several transvestites of all ages did their best to appear bored. Individual, and presumably single, men milled around.

The brunette t-girl eventually strolled onto the dance floor and find a partner there to neck with. Their play soon developed into the first scene of the evening.

As dancers moved around them, she kissed her male friend passionately. The club was clothing-optional tonight, and it wasn't long before Guy had stripped and they were making themselves cozy on a small mat at one end of the dance floor. Pressing close, Brunette removed her top to reveal a very firm pair of breasts with tiny dark nipples. She dropped to her knees, her back to the rest of the club, and he steadied his breathing as he looked down to her head bobbing slowly.

A small circle formed around them as others watched. A second male and t-girl couple settled right next to the first pair as Second Guy lay on his back and found himself cradled and caressed by his partner. The two couples played side-by-side while several males started stroking their cocks as they stood or sat nearby. Others continued to dance. Still others mingled elsewhere. In the rafters overhead, along a catwalk that led to some private booths, even more watched from on high.

In time, both of the males found themselves on their backs, next to one another, on the mat. Their trans lovers, both striking in appearance and demanding in their sex, mounted the men in unison to get fucked. As the music thumped and the crowd watched intently, each t-girl brazenly returned the gazes focused upon them as they took their lovers in their ass, pumping and grinding themselves unabashedly.

I leaned against the DJ booth and enjoyed my drink as I casually watched this little escapade. I noticed that a heavyset Asian woman, dressed casually, was trying to peer over my shoulder to enjoy the scene. Politely, I invited her to stand in front of me, which she gratefully accepted. We made small talk as we watched the trannies fucking some fifteen feet before us.

To our left and below a small flight of stairs was a wooden restraining stanchion, a single beam set at an upward angle and bearing steel rungs for leather restraints. A blonde milf in a red dress was soon brought there by her gentlemanly companion, whereupon she leaned her torso against the beam. He slowly raised her dress over her hips, revealing her bare ass. He produced a riding crop from his belt and began administering some gentle discipline with it as two other men stood to enjoy her breasts. She rested her head and chest against the polished wooden beam, eyes closed, experiencing the sensation with tiny gasps.

My voyeuristic companion and I smiled to each other as we enjoyed them. We introduced ourselves. Yvette was married and there with her husband, who shook my hand between his long bouts of being elsewhere in the club as he abandoned his friendly spouse to the wolves.

Bad form.

Sex parties, especially good ones, are very tricky to organize. Even among a pre-screened group of like-minded people, it's always possible that someone, somewhere, will misbehave or otherwise act like an ass. At the very least (and apologies to my gender for saying this), its unfortunately true that when single, individual men are permitted to attend, the odds are that one or more of them will be the first to fuck up. Why? That's another topic.

But I wasn't too surprised when one guy, standing near Yvette and me, began poking into her personal space like a penis without conscience. Not wanting to assume any authority over this woman's experience, I quietly stood by, though directly behind her. After all, I wasn't one of the staff at this club; it wasn't my place to assume he was overstepping himself as he touched and groped and pursued upon Yvette's person.

Her body language was clear however, even if she barely opened her mouth to set boundaries apart from an "I'm fine, thank you" to Mr. Dick. Why isn't she speaking up more, I asked myself. Where was her fucking husband? And why aren't the staffpeople here paying closer attention to the scenes happening around them instead of picking up empties? My feminist awarenesses started to wreak havoc on my Top headspace.

"Are you ok? Is this guy making you uncomfortable?" He saw the look on my face and started to back off from Yvette. I felt like I was working the clubs again, but this time I didn't like it.

Yvette wasn't visibly distressed by Mr. Dick, but she wasn't having fun either. Realizing that she was new to all this and that I had done the right thing, I pointed out the posted rules-of-behaviour signage (in oneplace and with very small print) and explained that she could always go to a staffperson if she felt uncomfortable.

Still, I felt ridiculous in that I essentially ended up filling in the roles both her husband and the staff should have quick-booted themselves to. This party, I quickly realized, needed some serious help with its infrastructure, else a major incident could be likely. Despite the opportunity for genuine pansexual play, I was left unimpressed.

Me, I carried on however. Yvette's husband eventually showed himself. By then, the trannies had moved on to other men and the blonde milf was giving her partner head at one the tables near the dance floor. Other t-girls, singles, couples of various orientations had arrived and were either dancing, playing, or drinking. It was getting late, and soon my newfound friends were getting ready to go. Husband, however, couldn't resist texting Yvette when he momentarily vanished again. A friendly black fellow, he struck me as a bizarre cross between Urkel and PeeWee Herman.

Husband: I think u shld show him ur tits

"He wants me to show you my tits," Yvette laughed to me.

"Do you want to?" I smiled. She smiled back as hubby returned again, then lowered the top of her dress. He invited me to touch them. I asked her. She blinked, smiled, and said yes.

That was when I found myself holding my first pair of breasts in a little while. For me, the tunes and the dancing and the chatter all suddenly stopped as I beheld her.

I've been craving to touch Shayne again, it's true. This moment with Yvette, these few seconds of simple touch, were a small salve for me. All of my Prideweek playfulness came down to this small, tender moment.

Yvette's tanned skin glowed under the strobe lights as she revealed a large set of firm globes, capped with soft dark nipples. She wavered a little when my hands gently cupped them from the sides, squeezing lightly, and then caressing underneath and over them in a slow, tender stroke. I bit my lower lip as I enjoyed them for perhaps a hint of a moment longer than she expected. Her eyes were glazed as I moved back with a grin.

They left, smiling.

Me: That was yummy. :)
Yvette: Thank u! I had a great time speaking with u. Hope to see u again! :o)

The night was about over me too. I drifted to an upstairs area where I explored the various privacy booths that had been arranged. More bi porn showed itself on monitors, and I relaxed with another beer as I watched one on a long red leather couch. Some of the transvestites made themselves available for passers-by in the nearby booths, but by then it seemed the evening was drawing late for everyone.

A larger play area at another end of the club began drawing a crowd of onlookers. Trust those wayward single guys to sniff out the one interesting scene in a playparty, boy. Mr. Dick practically went running in that direction once it appeared to be a place of interest. I laughed to myself as I waved adieu to the disappointed TVs.

And so my evening ended as I, shoulder-to-shoulder with a crowd of desperate males, watched a blonde BBW in a red teddy with matching stockings take on three black males as she knelt over a spanking bench. One husky dude fucked her slow. Two stood near her head as she tooks turns between sucking their cocks, much to the silent pleasure of the crowd that had gathered around them.

Mr. Dick, clearly frustrated with his total lack of success with the ladies, biological or otherwise, pushed his way through the crowd to stand directly next to the woman. Quietly focused on her own cocksucking and the fucking she was receiving, she hardly seemed to notice when Dick suddenly, characteristically, groped at her swaying breast like a grocer trying to date a mango. I rolled my eyes. The dude to my immediate left, one of the guys whose cock was getting casually sucked, didn't miss a beat as he simply pushed Dick right out of the way.

It was almost 4am. I smirked about that as I finished my last beer and headed home.


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