Adventures in the dark

Last night at a fetish party, a friend of mine asked me to accompany him, a girl he’s seeing, and her boyfriend to the couples’ room. She wanted a threesome, but they could only grant access to people in pairs.

‘Come in with us, just for five minutes!’

‘Sure, why not.’

There was a bit of a queue but it was still early, so we only waited a few minutes before we were ushered in front of a security guard. He seemed a bit confused by our little ménage.

‘Which is which couple?’

‘We’re a couple, and they’re a couple.’

‘Ok,’ he said, then pointed at my friend and I and said, ‘You two kiss’.

Fine, what’s a kiss between friends? It was passionate and realistic; after a few minutes of tongue dancing we took a breather and asked if he’s seen enough. He was still tricked by the situation, so asked the other two to kiss. They did. We were ushered in.

The couples’ room… the mystery, the passion, the crazy sex and massive orgy that must be happening there is such a prevailing myth within a certain scene that people are willing to queue up for an hour at times just to see what’s going on. Unsurprisingly, these scene tourists usually walk out even more confused, failing to understand what it’s all about.

The first time I ended up in one of those was at my first visit to a fetish party in London. I have been to fetish and swingers parties before, but I have never seen a queue. I may have even had some grand expectations as well, titillated by the thought that this may be it, the holy grail of the seedy and sexual underbelly of this town. After a wait of forty-five minutes, my date and I finally reached the hallowed entrance. The curtain was pulled aside…

… to reveal a room the size of a large walk-in closet, with a bench running along the perimeter and some sort of a table in the middle. We were allocated a space on the bench the width of a typical bus seat, for the two of us. Fair to the name, the rest of the people there were only couples, with just as little space in which to perform a bit of a hand job, a touch of a blowjob followed by a spot of intercourse in the woman on top sitting position. Some tried to be more creative in their positions, but invariably their attempts were crushed by the presence of others all around them and the hard wooden back of the peripheral bench. Some people tried to use the table, but it wasn’t the optimal height for any action. To say that I disappointed in the whole set-up would be the understatement of the year, feeling just like those scene tourists that I railed against earlier in this post.