I have this conundrum. My girlfriend’s birthday is this month, and I’m plotting with her boyfriend (yes, you read that correctly) to plan a celebration. Just the three of us. Matt and I are in charge of all the details while Liri just has to show up and enjoy herself. The first question Liri and Matt asked was what rating our gathering deserved. Rated-G wasn’t ever an option despite all of us enjoying episodes of My Little Pony. Rated-PG was much more likely, but given the three of us and our healthy sexual appetites, things could easily stray into R territory before plunging headfirst into a solid X rating. We’re kinky, poly people with a shared love of Liri. Yup, this situation has sex cocktail written all over it.
The issue is me. I don’t have group sex like I used to in my twenties. Not that I’ve had a lot of experience with group sex. There was an almost foursome that came close but disbanded at the last possible moment. Even an accidental ingestion of Ecstasy and four-person nakedness could not overcome a language barrier. It’s not my fault I couldn’t translate “grab my cock like it was a microphone” from Spanish. Then there were the weekend parties in Ecuador where we’d end up with three other couples fucking in the same room. Like I said, it was almost group sex, but not quite. If I had to sum up sex during my twenties, I would choose the word voracious.
I keep asking myself, “what does group sex mean for me now?” I’ve spent many years ignoring caution and my tender heart, blithely having sex whenever the spirit moved me. Part of me still says, “shut up, Heather, and just fuck them silly.” That was the overriding voice in my head for most of my twenties, and although I had a lot of fun, I was also left wanting something more. A decade later, after the potential feel-good sexcapades of today, I’ll be thinking and analyzing. Yes, dammit, over-thinking and over-analyzing. I’ll be worried if I blundered through a boundary somehow and made someone uncomfortable followed by worry regarding my performance. (Yes, women worry about that too.)
Ultimately the nagging feeling that stops me is that I want sex to be significant, and how traditional is that? It’s true, though. I don’t think exclusivity equals significance as it would in a monogamous paradigm, but I want my partners to understand that this doesn’t happen with just anyone. And the fact that I choose them, means a hell of a lot to me. I want them to feel that too. As I’m sitting here re-reading what I just typed, it struck me that if I cared less about Liri or Matt or my long-distance relationship with B, I wouldn’t have thought so hard about what sex would mean between the three of us. If they were less significant to me, I’d probably be stripping down for the sex cocktail already.
Being a part of the kinky community, I probably have more opportunities now to have group sex than I ever did. Having sex with play partners is a common practice here. Especially with like-minded poly people. Private play parties feature lots of nudity and toys and fetishes of all sorts. Sex is often a component of that, and although I take no issue with anyone indulging in it, I’ve stopped short of sex at a party. Well, there was the one time when Liri flogged me and then had sex with me on Matt’s living room floor in front of other party-goers. But other than that, I haven’t participated in a group sexual dynamic. Mostly out of consideration for my relationship partners. AGAIN WITH THE THINKING AND PONDERING!
Matt and I haven’t made any firm plans for Liri’s private celebration, but I’m fairly certain he and I won’t be fucking each other. As much as we may be willing, I also get the distinct impression that we’re careful of each other’s relationships with Liri. This is new territory for all three of us. Our girl Liri, on the other hand, may end up naked and tied up on the dining room table. Because what kind of celebration would it be if we didn’t have a present to unwrap?