Saturday Night, Fever?

 

Mi friend N shared a post by a writer he knows in which we get a description of what a sex party may be in Bogotá, Colombia. Yeah, I have friends everywhere. The writer goes into some detail on the what/when/how and offers insight into what it would be like to go fuck with abandon in a country that still feels the weight of Catholicism and social stigma related to same-sex relations. 

Yes, most Latin American countries have same-sex unions and even common-law marriage but the shame that comes with fucking a man when you are a man does not go away with progress. Growing up in a country that is 90% Catholic does a number in you and your psyche. Here I'll post some excerpts that may give you an idea of how things are there, though...

Note: this narrative has been condensed and abridged because I did not have time or the patience to translate the whole piece...

"The attendees are younger men, most of them in their 30s and a few in their 40s. There are furtive glances, the occasional flirtatious smile, but there is nervousness in the atmosphere. Shyness, shame? I'm shaking with fear, like the first time I drove without a responsible adult next to me. Enrique, the friend I'm going with, is not exactly a “responsible adult”: we were drinking since noon and as midnight approaches I don't have any kind of judgment. What started as an ordinary drinking get-together took a turn when Enrique told me about these orgies and convinced me to overcome the fear that prevented me from experiencing them.

After registering, indicating my ID number, leaving a telephone number and clarifying who recommended the place to me (in my case Enrique himself, who had already been here a couple of times), we went up the stairs to the third floor. In the second, the doors announce a pre-university institute of those that swarm around the National University, but because it is Saturday night the place is empty. The music that is already played when we go up is pure party electronica. The beats sound hard, but without being loud. Upon reaching the third floor, each attendee is given a white plastic bag to store their clothes and cell phone. We must take off everything, except the shoes and stockings, which according to the advertising that Enrique showed me define the dress code: white for passive, black for active and another color for versatile. Not wearing socks can mean many things. Just in case, they sell black and white socks at the entrance. I wear black ones, as I almost always do, and I don't change them to look very macho, although Enrique explains to me that no one notices that inside anymore."

A young-ish crowd, I see? Ageism always looks the same in the gay demi-monde, no matter where you are. Youth and beauty are hard currency. And I can imagine how it feels going to an orgy for the first time. Full disclosure: with all my whoring around, I have never been to an orgy. Ever. Have I known when one was taking place? Yes. Have I attended one? Nope. Maybe I’m a prude, but I like to dedicate all my attention to a man at a time. Maybe two? Even though the idea of being gangbanged into oblivion may seem attractive to some, it makes me think of cold compresses and epson salt baths.

I also find interesting that the place where the orgy is taking place is literally a building used for business purposes. Kind of comes handy not having nosy neighbors who see seven dozen men crowd a a house, no? Also, pretty convenient that the organizer owns the building. He does mention in the article that he does it because he thinks it's cool, not for the money...

It's also telling that the 'dress code' is so binary. Not surprising in Latin America, where gender roles are so distinct. And of course you'd only go to one of this events to fuck or get fucked. Or both. No room for subtleties, so yeah. 

"After pissing in the middle of a porn scene, I go to the bedrooms. Slowly, I look at the couples or groups of three, four and even an indefinite number. I walk looking for exchanges of glances, hoping to find a species of tropical Adonis. I see that several are gringos, too white to have been born in these lands. Since they get handsy with me, I get handsy back with an indeterminate number of strangers during the tour; If I like them (an occasional beard, a hairy chest without steroids), I also make out with them or let them suck me off. I even sucked off a dark-skinned man of high cultural interest. I do everything without penetration, to preserve decency. My friend Enrique did get it on with people in there several times. He'll tell me that later, because I lost sight of him after my trip to the bathroom.

Looking for the darkest corner of the apartment, I identify in the distance a student I had at the university. Seeing him naked, I'm surprised to see how much he's grown, but I'm not willing to let him recognize me. Again: decency first and foremost. I'm used to covering myself, both physically and mentally, and walking around naked watching naked people who come to have sex makes it clear to me that I don't feel comfortable with my own body (skinny and paunchy) and that, despite trying to be very free, I still have a lot of puritanism left. So, out of drunkenness, I grab a bean bag and sit in the corner to take a nap."

Apparently there's some North Americans in the mix and they kind of stand out in the crowd. There's also the detail of the looking for 'the one' even in this sea of bodies and appendages (he likes 'natural' men?). Kind of senseless, from my point of view: you'll find the 'ideal' man to get your rocks off and then... what? Like going to an excellent restaurant and leaving after just eating half a delicious salad. 

There's also a nod to that self-consciousness that we all feel when naked in a public place: do we look attractive enough? Unless you have dedicated time and effort to your body, nobody is going to be in porn star physical shape all the time. And what about that shame of finding in an orgy somebody who actually knows you? I guess it's prone to happen, unless you live in a different city to the one where the sex party is taking place. It's very incestuous, sometimes, in the gay world: you end up knowing a lot of the men who frequent your circles and it's almost certain you'd find them while cruising for sex. Aren't all the same men in all the apps? I think Huntley once told me the grids on the apps are literally the same no matter where you are: it’s literally the same faces over and over.

"I wake up from my nap without really knowing what time it is and I start looking for Enrique. On the way out I run into a gringo about six feet tall and about 35 years old, muscular and with tattoos—yes, a bit of a porn cliché, but without steroids—and I take advantage of the exchange of glances to resume the kissing and groping. From there we moved on to mutual oral sex. Strategically, he had stashed some condoms in his stockings—which, to my surprise, were black—so we don't have to go all the way to the entrance to get some. He himself, very polite, puts the condom on me, lubricates my cock and we get to work, both wearing black stockings, first standing, then on one of the beds. Everything in sight and even the participation of other attendees, among whom is my former student, who comes to touch my buttocks, stands on the bed and makes me suck him. Another guy gets underneath to blow the gringo. I'm sweating like a beast and my heart is pounding, and to think that I rejected my student's offer of poppers! I'm not exactly multi-orgasmic, so I come and leave.

On the beanbags in the living room I start talking to my former student, who tells me that he is doing an internship at a newspaper. We laugh at the fear of being recognized, at the hypocrisy we still have when it comes to sex, at the attitude of little children who laugh softly when someone says something rude. When he goes to the bathroom, I continue my search for Enrique.

Since I can't find my friend, I ask for the bag where I put my stuff. It's already three in the morning. I get dressed and announce to the guy at the front desk that I will walk to my house, which is in the same neighborhood. I arrive and get into bed literally blown away and a little surprised at myself. I don't know if I'll dare go back to an orgy. I am terrified of the possibility of meeting there the dean of my college."

Funny how in a situation like this the best fuck ends up not being what we were looking for. I sense some reticence from part of the author when actively trying not to fuck someone who is too 'made', too 'gay' and he ends up fucking a guy who actually looks like a porn star. But without steroids (who knew this was a thing??).Oh, I totally understand the lure of a sex party: tons of sex with tons of men in one place. But I think I would find it kind of overwhelming. I would feel like there are too many choices and too little time. Also, how do I know the men I covet will want to fuck me? It feels like being in front of a carousel of delicacies and we cannot make up our mind about what to eat because of some self imposed dietary restrictions? It's too complicated.

There's also that breaking of boundaries and perceptions that happen when we are having sex: the reticence he felt about facing his ex-student naked literally disappears when he becomes part of the wave of lust that the orgy is supposed to be. He and this man who used to be his student end up having sex as part of the orgy in which he ends up taking place. Lust knows no shame or boundaries. Funny how that worked out.

And that's that. I think it's interesting how a situation that definitely should be highly sensual and pleasurable ends up being somehow mechanical and slightly awkward. I don't know you, but I am completely in the dark about what Orgy Etiquette would be. I imagine it would be similar to what happens when you go to a sauna or go cruising in a park or beach: you look around and if someone you like looks back, then you get to work after you kind of negotiate your likes and dislikes. No? I'm going to have to think more about this.

Because to tell you the truth, it seems to me like too much work, too much of an expense and too much of a dilemma to attend a paid-for sex party. Orgies look easy in porn because porn is not real life. I think that if I ever go to a sex party, I'm going to be left short a few Benjamins, I’ll be somehow confused, slightly uncomfortable and most probably I'm gonna end up taking a nap on a bean bag and I'll miss all the action. I’m sure can do better on my own on a Saturday night, for real…

XOXO