It was late Saturday night. Early Sunday morning, really. Bruce and I were curled up in the middle of our king-sized bed, nesting in a puddle of tangled sheets. 

His fingers tracing lazy circles around my nipple, Bruce shifted so he could see my face. “Did we really just participate in an orgy?”

I just grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, I think we did.”

He shook his head. “Whoa. Who are we?”

“I dunno. But I think I like it.”

The thing is, when we arrived at the hotel takeover party, “orgy” wasn’t on my bingo card. But we did have tentative plans to play with another couple. New friends we had hit it off with at the last takeover, but hadn’t had the chance to connect with. 

There had been plenty of flirting in the months in between, and I may have mentioned the desire to play with a few people at once. But when our friends mentioned that they had kinda sorta volunteered to host an orgy, I didn’t really think they meant it. And if they did, I didn’t once think we would be invited.

But it was Saturday night. And as the almighty Prince once said, that makes just about anything alright.

The evening started tamely enough. It was a glow party, so I put on a ridiculously short neon skirt, sequined bra, and a shit ton of glow in the dark glitter. Once transformed, we ventured out, sampling various shots and treats that other attendees left outside their doors (seriously, internet. These parties? They’re in a different universe. I would not suggest taking drinks from strangers in any other venue).

As I soaked in the sexy vibes, my mood mellowed. My libido revved up. And when the music started, I was ready to pretend I knew how to move my body on the dance floor. We found our friends gathered around a comfy couch, talking and laughing and dancing and drinking and snogging and, well, having a good time, and made ourselves at home.

Did I mention these friends of ours are magnets? Their energy draws in people from here, there, and everywhere, creating groups where a bunch of disconnected strangers had been moments before.

And on this magical night, we were part of the group.

Over the course of the evening we wandered away a few times. Chatted with some other people we had met. I may have even kissed a guy or two. But we kept finding our way back. And when the blonde glitter goddess we all revolved around suggested that we should find our way back to their room for an orgy, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

You would think nerves would have struck while we were in our room, desperately trying to remove some of the glitter before heading over. But nope. I stayed calm even while we all stood around in a circle in their living room, establishing ground rules.

It wasn’t until people started moving toward the bedroom that I remembered how awkward I am. Fortunately for me, one of the men took me by the hand and led the way, taking over until I stopped thinking… 

and started feeling.

Glorying in the sight of the pile of boneless bodies tangled together on the bed.

Melting while another woman’s soft hand kneaded my breast and a virtual stranger’s delightful tongue… well, you can guess.

Reveling in the laughter that sprung up as pairs shifted and moved, awkwardly making space for new combinations.

Silently pinching myself after playing with not one, not two, but multiple cocks.

Listening to Bruce chuckle about my curling toes while another man’s strong arms held me in place as I slowly came undone.

Leaning against the hotel room wall, watching Bruce’s eyes drift closed as another gorgeous woman toyed with him.

Laying in a post-orgy cuddle pile, talking about the most mundane things.

It was glorious.

It was a lot. 

Like, a lot a lot.

I would absolutely do it again.