This incredible story about going to their first sex party is written and read by Robyn of Robyn Eats Everything. It originally appeared on their website.
“Are you here all by yourself? Well, you soon won’t be.” My first erotic story, written when I was 19 or 20, was about a woman who goes to a sex party for the first time, by herself, to live her greatest fantasies. And here I am, going to a sex party for the first time, by myself, to live my own…
Immediately, I’m welcomed and cosseted and introduced. Among the men there’s an undercurrent of grinning anticipation about this brand new toy; the women were standing at the edges of the rooms.
There was an archetypal popular girl with perfect peach lingerie encasing perfect skin, drawing others to her with a perfect laugh. Naturally, she intimidated me. One guy looked at me wide-eyed while we exchanged niceties and panted as his hand hovered just above my hip. A petite blonde with a constant smile shyly asked if she could please kiss me as I walked by. There’s a tall, bearded guy I’m instantly attracted to but he seems slightly unsettled when I trip down an unseen step into his arms.
The icebreaker speed-dating game leads me to have 23 identical one minute-long conversations:
“It’s my first time here.”
“Actually this is my first time anywhere, it’s my first party.”
“Oh I’m not with anyone, I came on my own.”
“Yeah, I guess I am brave.”
Being a BBW appreciation party, I was surrounded by other plus-size bodies; some clothed, some not. I still felt like the fattest person in the room, I always feel like the fattest person in the room, but the same determination that drew me to the party incited me to undress. And then I was standing in nothing but a bra, heels, and a tiny thong and I was alive. This was my bravery.
As I was exposed, they found me.
Our time in the hot tub started off relatively tame, sweet even: hurriedly undressing; giggling when the water spilled over the edge; the jets splashing our glasses; sharing compliments on each other’s soft, full tits. Then, lips met and hands explored and nipples were lifted to eager mouths.
“Do you want this?” My answer was an enthusiastic yes. Then their fingers took control of me. I spread my kneeling thighs further apart to allow her fingers to rub my swollen clit, his slid inside me: simultaneously being fucked and massaged. I kissed them both in turn, slowly and deliberately wrapping my tongue around theirs, while my eyes only left hers when they fluttered closed. I loved the way she smiled at me; like she was watching something magical.
I reached out to play with her nipple, squeezing and rolling it hard until she sighed and bit that tender part where shoulder meets neck. He exhaled with pleasure as he stroked my stomach and for once I didn’t shrink away. Our sounds were no longer being drowned out by the water.
Shifting back to the corner of the hot tub, the jets thrumming against my tenderness, I arched my back and let them use my body. In the corner of my eye, the witnesses were assembling beyond the open door, thirsty and drinking their fill. I leant back even further to treat them to a better view of my tits swaying in rhythm with their fingers.
The build-up to my orgasm was long and torturous, I begged for more fingers inside me:
Their fingers joined each other and both began fucking my tightness quickly, in sync. A thumb pressed my clit and my body surrendered to it. I came hard, so hard I grew dizzy. So hard every inch of my skin felt electric. So hard my cunt clenched and drenched their fingers. I was euphoric and breathless and I screamed.
The witnesses murmured in appreciation.
We move into an empty lounge and talk about what we want next. She beckons me to sit between her legs and strokes my back as I describe my private scenes for them. I share that I’ve never gone down on someone with a vulva before, I’m curious if I’ll be any good at it, if I’ll like it. I’m offered a willing partner and the promise of instructions. I say I want to taste him; he says he wants to taste me. She, simply, wants to do everything. Later, a couple comes in to slow-dance together as we watch quietly, stroking each others’ bare skin.
We choose the dark playroom. The giant bed emerges out of the gloom as my eyes adjust to the light.
I like the sound of me having sex. I like my own moans, I like the moans of the person I’m with as they enjoy me. The sound of multiple strangers fucking in a dark room, while his eager tongue is lapping my clit, pushing me to the narrow ledge before cumming for a second time, made me feel discomfited, awkward. The sharp splash of our unknown neighbour’s soaking wet cunt filled the room; I wanted only to hear mine.
Then I part her as she relaxes back on a pile of faux-fur cushions. To me, it’s like opening a new book you’ve been eagerly waiting to read. Moving close, I tentatively reach out my tongue; it finds the flat between her lips, where the moisture collects, and I taste her for the first time.
“Oh, fuck, yes, there.”
Her fingers twisting my hair I explore further, more for my curiosity than her pleasure. There’s the gentle dip into her cunt, which my tongue flutters into. Up to her clit, my tongue rolling the ball of her piercing around and round. Sucking her gently. She’s giving me no instructions, only desperate noises. He watches me intently, before kissing her tits.
More witnesses file into the room: “You look even prettier with your head between her thighs.”
Her pelvis rocks against my face; I want to push her even further. Sliding my fingers inside, I ask if that’s OK: she whimpers that it is. I hold them there as I flick her piercing back and forth, before running my tongue down. I move my face away and slam my fingers in and out of her while studying her face: she’s on the same ledge I was. He murmurs encouragement tenderly as I ravage her.
Then, as I suck on her clit one last time, she releases into my mouth. I can feel my own wetness as I press my thighs together.
I am gently pushed back and encouraged to lie beside her, as if we’re mirror-images of each other. This time it’s me who is parted, explored, tasted, while she strokes my face. She repeats to him any instructions that escape my lips, for emphasis and understanding. He grabs at my stomach as he makes me cum.
While my mouth is occupied wrapped around his thick dick, repaying the pleasure, I feel unknown fingers slipping between my legs. They’re gentle but unease lurches inside me and I am sure I don’t want that to happen to me right then, that way. Even at a sex party, even when I’m naked, even when I’m on all fours and my cunt is spread, you still need to ask my consent to touch me. The fingers withdraw when I say no and I immediately, guiltily, feel like a prude.
Our last act is to fuck. She begins on top of him: I help her to ride him with one hand on her lower back, the other squeezing her breast, pulling her down onto his cock as he lifts. I love the way they look at each other. I’m not sure what I’m meant to be doing, what my role is, other than to enjoy being there. It doesn’t take long for her to cum again, while we’re kissing deeply. Her lips vibrate against mine as she moans.
He slides in while I’m on all fours, immediately right up to his hilt, the edge of the condom grazing me. He uses my cunt hard and fast while she lays down, her face close to mine; that magical smile again. Our neighbours are also building up to a finish; there are ankles on shoulders, the sound of balls slapping against ass, near-crying. His second orgasm doesn’t take long and he shudders against me. He graciously lets me know that he can keep going if I’m not there yet; I politely decline, I’ve had my fill.
Afterwards there’s that very particular comfortable awkwardness that usually comes after a first time. What do we say now? Do we hug? Should I say thank you? Will we see each other again? There’s a search for missing underwear while I turn my attention to some new neighbours; two women having their cunts eaten next to each other, holding hands like they’re dear old companions.
When we return downstairs there’s some polite conversation with the other party-goers, sharing experiences and compliments. This is the worst part; the small talk. There’s nothing that makes me feel more of an outsider, a loner, a pointless accessory than small talk amongst a large group. It feels like a Year 8 break-time, but with a little more talk of cunnilingus. I’m dying to leave but too socially-conscious to make a move.
Finally, someone else made it for me. My new-found playmates/acquaintances/fuck buddies and I hug a final time and make our way back to our cars. When I get in mine I’m overwhelmed by shivering, which I blame on the cold despite it being the 4th warmest October on record.
Much later there’s a message: “That was like a naughty dream”.
It really was.