Last night I went to a “Sensation Play Party”!

The party’s event hosts and multiple guests brought a variety of toys and tools for delivering a wide variety of sensations. There were very gentle things like fur gloves, feathers, silk, one of those spidery wire toys for stimulating the scalp. There were rougher toys like paddles, floggers, Wartenberg wheels, fingertip claws. There were electrical stim toys, including violet wands, TENS units, and Stinger wands. It wasn’t all about touch either; there were small slices of fruit, bits of dark chocolate, scented oils.

About one third of the group took a couple of minutes to write brief notes that described their hard limits, for instance, “No foods!” or “No pain, gentle only!” or “Avoid my injured foot!”, arranged themselves comfortably on cushions scattered about the large room, placed their notes prominently next to them, and donned blindfolds. The remaining two-thirds of the group then had thirty minutes to wander about the room, trying different touch or toys on the blindfolded receivers. In a matter of minutes, the temperature in the room rose ten degrees as purrs of pleasure and groans of welcome pain filled the space. Thirty minutes passed in no time at all and the receivers slowly removed their blindfolds and tried to return to “normal”. Serotonin is a hell of a drug! After a brief break, the next one-third of the group took their turn as receivers, and then the last third had a turn.

I got to experience and see and do some amazing things!

When I was a receiver I experienced (in no particular order) feathery strokes down my arms and legs, a pair of lips that passed a piece of chocolate to me in a delicious kiss, flogging, hard paddling, hot wax dribbled on my chest, and a generous splash of icy water splashed on my chest and neck. At one point someone used a Wartenberg wheel on me while someone else dragged sharp fingertip claws across my back while I roared with release into a pillow. When my turn as a receiver ended, I was drunk on endorphins and my entire body tingled with lingering sensations.

During the other two sessions when I was in the role of giver, I did some paddling and flogging, zapped a few of the braver souls with a Stinger wand, dragged ice cubes down arms and legs, used a delightfully subtle “pleasure air” sex toy on nipples, used a more intense vacuum pump on nipples, and arranged a row of clothes pins down a person’s torso and ripped them off with a dramatic flourish

It was a thoroughly wonderful experience in a number of ways. The main draw is simply the delight in giving and receiving such welcome stimulation. Of course, what made that possible was the thoughtful and caring intentions of the people in the room. No one was teased or shamed about stating their boundaries, and everyone I interacted with seemed enthusiastic about meeting an individual receiver at whatever level they needed. I saw some receivers who asked for and got epic amounts of gentle cuddling, and other receivers who asked for and received very solid paddling, flogging, and electrical zapping. It felt like a very safe and welcoming space for me to experiment and push my own personal boundaries.

Analyzing my own experience just a bit deeper, by nature I’m much more of a “giver”. I adore introducing people to new experiences and sensations and making their minds melt (in a consensual fashion). It takes a bit of intentional effort for me to lie back and be entirely passive, accepting the sensations that are brought to me (aside from my one stated hard limit, “No tickling!”), with no responsibilities except to experience it all, take it all in. In the right circumstances (and last night was one), I can be a sensation junkie who appreciates some fairly intense stimuli. Once upon a time, someone delivered my birthday spanking with a wooden hairbrush with such vigor that the bush snapped in half! However, I don’t at all identify as “submissive”. I’m not there to accept whatever someone else wants to dish out, nor am I giving my endurance to someone else as a gift; I’m there to see what those intense sensations feel like and to see what I can take before I have to say “too much”.

There were other people at the event who did identify as submissive, and many of them reveled in many of the same treatments and sensations that I experienced. As I thought about the event after the fact, it occurred to me that to some objective observer, there may not be a visible difference between a receiver who identifies as “sensation junkie” and one who identifies as “submissive”. If there’s no apparent external difference, that would suggest that the fundamental difference is in the mind of the receiver. So I meditated on that for a while, and tried to think about the aspects that two such people would have in common, rather than what separates them. I think, and I’m still trying this on for size so don’t hold me to it, that for me as a (sometimes) “sensation junkie”, I’m being submissive. I am exerting my will to hold myself in check, to remain passive, and allow the sensations to wash over me. But I’m not being submissive to someone else, I’m being submissive to myself. I am not offering my submission as a gift to someone else. I am giving my submission as a gift to myself, to allow me to experience various and intense sensations, to find my limits and perhaps expand them a bit. That’s a way of framing the experience that I seems to resonate with me.

Navel gazing aside, it was a hell of an experience and I’m very much looking forward to the next one!

Perhaps you have found yourself thinking, “Good lord, with all of this sex where have they possibly found time for sight-seeing and actually enjoying this vacation?!” Well, you might be gratified we had sex only once yesterday, a very lovely bout of fucking just before we fell asleep after a very long day spent in the sun and Ionian Sea.

And if you’re disappointed by the dearth of sex on this day, let me rush to reassure you that the beach was a nude beach, we both received long luxurious massages from a darling girl who spoke not a bit of English, and sex was never far from our minds. 🙂

As has become my tradition for several years, I’m spending the Christmas break at a rental house on the coast with some very dear friends. We pass the time enjoying the stunning view of the ocean waves rolling in, listening to music, cooking ridiculously good food, hiking, soaking in the hot tub, experimenting at the massage table. Most of all, there is an abundance of love and a complete lack of drama or stress.

Of course, one of the people in attendance is a beloved girlfriend. Thus there has been a copious amount of sex. Slow, languid sex; eager, enthusiastic sex; sex in the bright sunlight, bending her over so she can watch the ocean waves break and crash while I plunge into her repeatedly; sex in the middle of the night, in the dark, still quiet, face-to-face, while clutching tightly and kissing deeply.

My only regret (and it is a tiny thing compared to the abundance of awesomeness) is that the friends are not “that kind” of friends. The girlfriend and I are very considerate about keeping our enthusiasm private and the most salacious thing we do in front of each other is walk around in nothing more than a shirt and pleasantly snug underwear.

In an ideal world, I’d have that ideal magical combination; friends that I love enough to be fully relaxed and open with, and friends who are uninhibited and lusty enough to be sexual in front of. I’m picturing the two women sitting on the couch with their legs spread, holding hands, whilst enthusiastic attendants sit on the floor and lazily suck and lap at their pussies. I want to be fucking my girl on a sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace, get up briefly to take some photos from across the room of another couple riding together in blissful pleasure, and then return to the open thighs awaiting me. I want a four-hand massage to seamlessly segue to four-hand petting, with one hand in her pussy, one on her clit, one pinching a nipple, and another gently pulling hair.

As I say, this is more of an ideal than a complaint. Off-hand, I can’t recall having a better Christmas (and I’ve had some really amazing Christmases in my time). But that doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about something even better.

Back in December, my primary partner asked me what I would like for my birthday (in January). I’m pretty shameless about buying myself whatever toys catch my eye, so I always struggle with answering these kinds of questions. I laughing said something about how “a drug-fueled fuck fest is the gift that keeps on giving, and giving, and giving”. And promptly forgot all about it.

On the weekend of my birthday, the aforementioned girlfriend and I traveled to central Oregon to traipse about in the snow, and had a perfectly lovely time. As we prepared for the return trip on Sunday (the anniversary of my birth), I began to get some small hints that something was up. She said small things like, “I’d like to get home by the early afternoon” without offering any reason, and “Let’s not stop to eat there on the way home; you might not want a full belly.” Curious, but completely vague. I enjoy surprises, so I didn’t pry.

We got home, went for a run and showered. Knowing full well that something was in the works, I asked how I should dress post shower. “Comfortably sexy. I don’t think we’re going out.” Of course, one has brief thoughts of fantasies that are far too improbable for reality, but I quickly settled down to earth. “Hmm, maybe she’s asked B over to give me a massage. That would be lovely.” Then the girl tells me if I wanted to indulge in any recreational pharmaceuticals, now would be the right time. *gulp* I’m enough of a control freak that taking a mind-altering substance without knowing exactly what was in the works for the evening took a considerable leap of faith. But I leapt in an ecstatic fashion. And somewhat nervously waited for the other shoe to drop.

About thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin. She smiled and said, “You should go answer that.” Heart thumping, I went to the door to find… a woman I’ve been seeing lately! And behind her… was the other woman I’ve recently become involved with! They came in bearing pizza boxes, homemade cupcakes, and absolutely mischievous grins. My mind quickly bounced back and forth, “This can’t be what I think it is! Oh my stars, I think it is! No, it can’t! Oh shit, I think it is!”

Some background, for context: “Splendor” has been my partner for a good long while, and knows both of the others socially, but has never err, umm, “gone there” with either. “Cheer” I have known for a long time, but the relationship has only recently escalated to a significantly new level. And “Mirth” is someone I’ve been involved with off and on a couple of times, currently “on” and hopefully done with the “off” problems. Cheer and Mirth had met briefly at a couple of parties, but that was about the extent of their experience with each other. I found out after the fact that about a week ago Mirth asked Splendor what plans were in store for my birthday, and my quote was relayed to her. Bless her heart, she took the idea and ran with it, contacting Cheer and coordinating the event. Such balls!

The Three Graces

Back to the narrative. The girls got a bite to eat while I fidgeted in an anxious fashion, trying to figure out if I was already deeply hallucinating. After a short time, someone suggested that perhaps it was time to find a more comfortable space to lounge. A brief bit of scurrying for armfuls of pillows and blankets and we were soon ensconced in a very cozy nest. Soon enough, clothes were shed, copious amounts of oil were applied to all available flesh and things got decidedly warmer!

I can only pretend to relay the roughest of outlines of what followed; my head was swimming in an ocean of awe, appreciation and astonishment. For a brief time I lay passively and accepted the oily petting and stroking of six hands and many kisses, sometimes from multiple people at once. But I’m really not built for passivity and soon started orchestrating matters. Splendor was placed in the middle and received ample attentions from all of us, with one person leading the main event and the other two assisting in whatever clever ways they could find. And then another person took the lead. And then I took the lead. After we had thoroughly given Splendor all she could possibly handle, we rotated Mirth into the middle and repeated the process. We took a brief break to soak in the hot tub, but swiftly returned for a second act. We repeated the same routine with Cheer, and then I got the finale session in the middle.

Each girl is so completely different in her wants, needs, preferences; I began each session by telling some story about that girl’s kinks (Your kink is okay!), amusing little stories about our early experiences, anything to break the ice and set the stage for what that girl might especially enjoy. And for fuck’s sake, did they rise to the occasion! Every one of them dove into the action with all due vigor and enthusiasm, as though they were long-term lovers. I tried to quietly check in with each of them at various times, just to make sure it was all good and everyone was in their happy place. Each time I was met with a big damn grin and firm instructions to quit worrying so much. I did my best to comply.

The night was such a long series of amazing things, and everything flowed so easily, so naturally, so comfortably, that it’s hard for me to lock down a precise sequence. However, some specific moments remain etched in my brain: The way Mirth lay directly under Cheer and held her down spread eagled to be used and abused. The way Cheer curled up against Splendor in a fawning, adoring, submissive fashion after receiving a series of exquisite bites on her torso that left bruises visible for days. The way Mirth presented herself face down, ass up so that I could make her squirt profoundly, multiple times, to the delight of our audience.

But more than anything, I will long remember and cherish the feeling of love and adoration that filled the space. Everyone was so incredibly loving, open, giving, accepting, supportive… I was just awestruck. And when I remind myself that this was the first time any of them had ever interacted with the others in anything resembling a sexual context, I hardly know how to respond. I am blessed beyond measure.

The following day was a flurry of glowing messages and photos of spectacular love bites. One of the girls said, “I went into it thinking I was doing it for you. I came out of it knowing I did it for me.” I find both ends of that so beautiful, it makes me tear up. That any or all of them would consider doing such a thing for me is an honor I can barely comprehend. That it became such a beautiful, shared, mutual experience for all three of them just fills my heart with joy and love.

The bravery and openness of these women completely awes me. I fail to see how I have earned it, but they assure me I have. I’m going to bust my ass trying to live up to the person they think I am.

I don’t think I’ve talked about this previously on the blog, but I’ve had some reasonably serious training in massage therapy. There was a period where I took a rush of massage classes and amassed nearly 500 hours of training. In the process, I managed to convince myself that massage was never something I’d want to do for a living. But it’s definitely something that has enriched my life and that I really enjoy. I still own a table and it is set up and prepared for use at a moment’s notice. Lately I’ve been more proactive about finding friends and acquaintances who are interested in receiving massages; I really enjoy the practice and find it incredibly grounding and rewarding.

Note: Despite how sexually voracious I may appear to be on this blog, I maintain some hard and fast lines around the massage table. My basic rule is, I never do anything for the first time on the massage table. If I haven’t seen you naked before, then you’re going to be professionally and respectfully draped on my table. If we’ve never had a sexual relationship before, then I’m damn sure not crossing that line while someone is vulnerable and trusting on my table.

With that setup in mind, I have recently started a sexual relationship with a new partner. The relationship is delightful and so very rewarding in a number of ways, but there is one aspect of it in particular that is echoing through my head lately. This partner is rather fond of intense and extreme sensations. Where most people tend to pull back from pain, she really enjoys leaning into it. I mean, really enjoys it, to an extent I’ve not experienced before.

I recently had her on the massage table (note: after we had already started a sexual relationship) and over the course of the massage started playing with how her pain response manifested on the massage table. There are some spots on the body where people really tend to carry their tension, places where you learn to move very slowly and gently, and only gradually apply some pressure. I eased into it by approaching those spots as slowly and as cautiously as I normally would, and then gradually increasing pressure beyond where I normally would. For instance, my partner was supine and I stood at the head of the table with the base of my palms on her pec minor (on the chest between the clavicle and the breast tissue). I spent a little time warming up the area and getting the blood flowing, doing some smoothing strokes down the length of the muscle. When I felt her relax into it a little, I moved my fingers into her anterior axilla (the front of the armpit), hooked my fingertips under her pec minor and applied a gentle traction trying to stretch and elongate the muscle. Her legs twitched and her hips shifted as she adjusted to the intensity of the sensation. To my surprise and delight, she then arched her back and pulled against me, intensifying the pull against her muscle. I shifted my stance and braced my pisiform (the bony point at the ulnar base of the palm) against her pec and leaned into it. Her chest dropped and she cried out softly, but then almost immediately she arched her back and pressed into it. I leaned in with more body weight, she groaned and then arched into it even more. We continued taking turns escalating intensity for a few more rounds, and then I finally let my palms slowly glide down until I was cupping her breasts. I firmly seized her nipples between my thumb and knuckle and pinched roughly until she was sucking air through her teeth.

The pattern repeated multiple times across her body over the next hour. I rolled her prone on the table and dug my fingers into her soleus (deep in the calf) until she was beating her fists on the table and crying out. When I moved to her thighs, I drove the knuckles of my closed fists along up her hamstrings, from the back of her knee all the way up to her gluteal fold. I leaned increasing amounts of my body weight into each stroke until she was writhing from the sensation. I flattened out my hands and spread my fingers and repeated the stroke, reaching higher and higher, until the middle finger of one hand slid right into her dripping wet pussy. After several iterations of that, I left my finger in her cunt and slid my other hand under her hip and let her use her body weight to grind my fist into her glutes and hip rotators. Some time later, I hooked my finger into her pussy and pressed firmly against her g-spot. Her hips came off the table and I lifted her legs into the air over her head. When she found her balance, partially inverted with my fingers curled inside her pussy, she shifted her legs and used her body weight to expertly ride the very edge of how much pressure her g-spot could take.

It went on for over an hour, grinding and pushing and writhing. Panting from the exertion, groaning from the pain/pleasure. Sweat and oil glistening over taut and straining muscles. So many separate interests came together in such an amazing way; that primal love of skin-to-skin contact, the grinning pleasure of searching for someone’s physical boundaries and then inching right up against that line, pushing my knowledge of anatomy and body leverage to new uses and understanding, and that raw unbridled joy from giving someone else intense physical, sexual pleasure and release. I don’t think I’ve ever had an experience like that before and it’s hard to imagine having that kind of experience with someone else; it seems unique to our separate and complimentary kinks.

When it ended I was simultaneously drained and energized, grinning and dizzy. I am so very impatient for a repeat performance.