I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME

When I was a little girl, my street was closed off for a block party. I remember being in the middle of the road, with my colorful dress swaying as I danced to the music. I remember posing for pictures, raising my hand in school, auditioning for various social groups, and enjoying being the center of attention. You see, at a very young age, I was a performer, and as I got older, I perfected my craft. 

I live on the fourth floor, and on more than one occasion, over the 20 years I have lived at this address, I have left my curtains wide open. Over the years, I’m sure my neighbors have seen me sing and dance in my room, undress, have fantastic sex and masturbate at all hours of the day. There were many times when my mom would enter my room when I was getting dressed and close my curtains. She’d make a remark about my body being all over the internet that I’d brush off, and when she’d leave, I’d wonder if anyone was watching. I’d always been an exhibitionist at heart. So, it was only natural that, once I entered the sex-positive space of a sex club, I let my true freak-flag fly.

I’m 25% voyeur and 75% exhibitionist. I enjoy watching people have sex, but I really love being watched. When I used to masturbate, I used to imagine a crowd of bodies around touching me all over, helping me reach my orgasm. When I attended my first sex party, I was finally living out a long-awaited fantasy. The random hands caressing my ass, rubbing my legs, and pinching my nipples heightened my orgasm. After every party, I grew more emboldened.

As my primary partner and I attended more parties together, we often took center stage (not a real stage, just a bed). He would eat my pussy, I would suck his dick, then we’d fuck. We’d occasionally play with other people, then come back together to end our night. Having to tell a man you have herpes with another man’s dick in your mouth is no easy task. So, I got into the habit of inviting men that I already knew and were aware of my diagnosis. It would ensure that the night would be fun, my partners knew my status, and I would be thoroughly fucked by the time the party was over.

At the last few parties we attended, I started taking time to please myself when my pussy needed a break from actual fucking. So, while he was either cleaning up or playing with another woman, I took the liberty to pull out my Womanizer. I would lay back, relax, and let the fantastic sucking motion bring me to a wet orgasm. Every party where I used my Womanizer, a moist spot was left behind as evidence —Sorry. Not Sorry—

The last party I attended was a Luau themed party at Caligula. In the corner, I was getting fucked when one of my other partners entered the room, positioned himself in front of me, and pulled his dick out for me to suck. I was in heaven. —I’ll never know where or how this came to be my bliss, but I have no desire to turn back.— Nonetheless, they switched positions, and once again, I was getting pleased from both ends. Then my partner positioned me on his face and ate my pussy as I sucked my guy’s dick. When we were all thoroughly pleased, we went and danced for a bit. A little conversation, some flirtation, then we all ended back upstairs in the infamous corner. Another MFM threesome and my pussy needed penetration rest. 

The room was dark, so I laid back on the bed with my body facing the room, and I pulled out my Womanizer. I turned her on, and shortly after, the sensations started to radiate through my body. I moaned and writhed with pleasure as the guests in the room speculated what was causing me to make my sounds. Hearing their wondering voices made my breathing quicken, and as I had my orgasm, I let out a loud scream and a steady stream of squirt. I realized the bed was now soaked, so I pulled up the sheet to signal for the attendant to switch it out. 

I wanted to freshen up, so I tip-toed to the 6-person shower. I removed my lingerie, turned on the water, and soaped up. I had an audience, and I liked it. I thought about playing with myself to give my onlookers a show, but my clit was still sensitive, so I just showered and went back to the room. 

I ended up back with my original players and a special guest star. He had told me earlier that day that he wanted to fuck my brains out; and that he did. For what felt like an hour, and a shower break somewhere in the middle, I was fucked while slobbing two knobs. With lube and persistence as my best friends, I survived the pounding he delivered to me. When he finally screamed, “I’m about to bust!” and did, the entire room was cheering for me. They all knew that I had just taken a thorough beating, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Not too long after we finished, they began announcing that the club was closing. When I went to take my last shower, I was approached by BDE (the guy from Corset, Collar, and Lingerie – Part 3). I don’t know if he remembered me, but I definitely remember him. I gave him a short hello and went back to my partners. 

I may not care for eyes on me when I’m walking down the street or on the train. But, for some reason (maybe because it’s a sex-positive space), I love knowing that my sexploits are on full display. I suck with more passion. I moan so the person downstairs can hear me. And like a marathon, cheers from the crowd keep me going, so I can fuck longer. When I’m at a sex party, I feel that people are watching me, and I love it.

I Only Wanted Sex; Then You Happened

From sex party to romance. Who would’ve thought that would happen.

You first laid eyes on me when I was in the corner being fucked by two men at the party. When I came up for air, you asked me a simple question; “Would I sit on your face?” I told you to give me a moment and I would get back to you. You didn’t know my STD status and I wanted to make sure you knew, before we decided to engage. As the party continued, I remained pre-occupied so I never got the chance to talk to you before the party ended. You walked with me and the other gentleman I had played with to the elevator and out of the hotel. While waiting for our respective cabs, you bravely asked me for my number; and I, gave it to you. You messaged me to make sure I got home safe; then I didn’t hear from you. 

A few weeks passed, and you messaged me a few days before what would be the second party we would attend. We texted back and forth for hours. It was weird that we had so much in common; that for a moment I thought you stalked my Instagram to know what to say to make me like you. I eventually realized it wasn’t an act and that we actually did like a lot of the same things. You told me that the next party fell on your birthday and as a present from me, you wanted me to sit on your face. I asked if you had read my Instagram bio; I wanted to make sure you knew that I was herpes positive and what that could mean for you. You thanked me for telling you and we continued our conversation without a beat.  

The night of reckoning, I arrived at the party early. I wore pink heels, knowing that you liked them and when you walked in, I shyly said “hi”. I was quasi-dating another partygoer and talking to the man sitting next to me – so I played it cute. When the party started, I went with you to the corner, we took off our glasses, and I gave you your birthday present. I sat on you face and sucked at your dick. I moisturized your beard with my juices and felt your tongue and fingers explore my openings. You brought me to a ferocious orgasm. I immediately wanted you inside of me, so I bent over ready to receive you. I was dripping wet with anticipation, but your birthday drinking festivities, from before the party, inhibited you; so, you went back to eating my pussy. You flipped me over and made a show of me as your meal. I was terrified that I would break my neck, but you kept your grip on my body secure. You laid me back down and buried your face and tongue deeper into me. With your finger pleasing my ass and you mouth on my clit, you brought me to yet, another magically loud orgasm.  

My second orgasmic outcry got the attention of the other party-goers. As your intoxication began to flood in, I retreated to shower, and, with that, I was stolen away. I didn’t see you the rest of the party, but you messaged me that, although you were totally shit-faced, you got home safe. I played with a few other men at the party that night; but something about you set you apart from the others.  

Our first date, was the day of the pride parade; we went to see Aladdin. Hot as it was, you arrived a cute and sweaty mess; we kissed then preceded to watch the movie. After the movie we walked to go and get dinner; then we walked some more. We took a seat by Madison Square Park and, of course, talked some more. So much laughter and joy filled that very first date. I felt so at ease with you; and although I didn’t want the night to end, we took the train to my neighborhood and you walked me to my building. A passionately long kiss was the end to our amazing night and we parted ways; that was only two months ago.  

 Since then: you’ve come with me to my herpes support group, you’ve supported me during my triathlon training, you’ve helped me fix my room, you’ve supported my writing, you’ve come with me to my writing group; all the while encouraging me to be nothing but myself. I wake up to your ‘good morning beautiful’ texts, I talk to you throughout the day, and you don’t let a night pass without wishing me a good night and sweet wet dreams.  

The first time you stayed over, while my family was away, you pleased my body every chance you could. From oral sex in the shower, to delivering my body deep thrusts in my bed, to burying your face in between my legs and bringing me to orgasm after orgasm; you more than made up for the party. And before, during, and after it all; you held me close, our bodies were intertwined as you laid with me, and I felt safe in your arms. Our naked flesh pressed up against each other as we drifted into sleep at night; only to start the morning with me taking your dick into my mouth and bringing you to pleasure. I was determined to make you cum and when you did, I didn’t stop. I kept going until you couldn’t take any more (payback for the many times you continued licking my clit past my orgasm). In short, that weekend was exactly what I needed; and had no idea I was missing. 

I was always told, if I wanted to find a good man, I would have to hide my desires. But, so far, you’ve proven to be a great man in my life, that fully supports my freak-filled ways. Not only do we have amazing sex, but we have amazing sex with other couples. You support me with all my choices, as I encourage you to pursue your goals. You make me smile till my cheeks hurt, and you give me butterflies.  

I only went to the party for some good sex; but I left with so much more. I can’t to see what the future holds.