I had just finished having sex with my boyfriend when a woman in light blue lingerie tapped me on the shoulder, looked me right in the eyes, and said, “You have an open invitation. Come find me,” before walking away. I was stunned. I have been to countless sex parties in my life—well over 100—but never had a beautiful woman solicited me so confidently. I had no doubt I'd be inside her before the night was through, but I also wondered: Since when does this kind of thing happen?
My first assumption was Hot Vax Summer, i.e. the proven fact that Americans are more DTF than ever after quarantining for so long. The recent “Summer of Love” study conducted by the Kinsey Institute and the sex toy retailer Lovehoney found that 40 percent of Americans plan to be more sexually experimental in the future, while 13 percent plan to be less experimental (the rest reported no change).
Still, this felt different. It didn’t give me typical Hot Vax Summer vibes like I was getting nearly two months ago, in early June. Back then, I noticed sex clubs were crowded with newbies, but this time around, it felt like a bunch of seasoned pros were pushing themselves to the limit of human achievement. I couldn’t quite figure out why this was the case, but by God, I was going to fuck my way to some answers.
I was at Hacienda, a Brooklyn-based organization that "celebrates sex, educates the curious, and creates opportunities to meet new friends and lovers.” Based in an unassuming brick townhouse, it achieves its mission through “hosting sex parties and socials, putting on a variety of educational workshops, and cultivating beautiful living environments for sex-positive people.”
For Beth Sparkfire, Hacienda's co-founder and director events, these sex-positive gatherings are especially important this summer. “Now that we're able to gather after a year without parties and in-person contact, it's Hacienda's mission to make the most of every event, interaction, and moment," she told me. "We're feeling a renewed appreciation for life and want to make the most of it!”
My boyfriend, Jonzu, along with one of the women I’m dating, Emily, arrived at 11 p.m. After telling the bouncer we were there for the party, we were ushered in and asked to provide our names and proof of vaccination. (To enter, you need either proof of vaccination or a negative Covid test taken within three days of the event.)
Through the front door, we found a dance floor with a live DJ, an outdoor fire pit area, a hot tub, and a bar where you could store your BYOB drinks. The basement is where all the fun happens: There are about eight mattresses downstairs on the floor, including a few canopy beds with sheer white curtains through which you can see folks getting it on.
After dropping off our bottle of whiskey, the three of us mingled by the fire pit. As I’m no stranger to sex parties, I spotted some folks I’d met at other events, including Josie, a woman with whom I’d flirted at other parties. In the past, both of us were too nervous to make the first move.
After we each had a drink, Jonzu went for a smoke, and Emily and I headed to the basement. It was a little after 11 p.m., and already a bunch of folks were playing downstairs, which is really quick! Most sex parties start around 10, and it takes until midnight for people to warm up to each other, but by the time I set foot in the basement, the sweet smell of sex lingered in the air. Moans were coming from all corners of the room. So, too, was the sound of impact—testicles slapping against vulvas, paddles against butts, and floggers against flesh.
Being surrounded by everyone already having sex, Emily and I were turned on and ready to go, but there was an issue: There wasn’t any space. One twosome was hogging a queen bed, so I asked them if they could scoot over a little bit. It’s not good etiquette to interrupt a scene, but every square foot was coveted like Manhattan real estate.
They kindly shimmied their butts over, so Emily and I had space. I was going down on her when my friend Robin joined us. Robin, Emily, and I starting hooking up in a range of configurations until I was majorly overheating, despite the aggressive AC. I briefly cooled off upstairs, then went back to the basement to have sex with Jonzu. We were putting our clothes back on when the aforementioned woman in light blue lingerie tapped me and said I had an open invitation.
As I went back upstairs, I reflected on how lucky I felt. So, imagine my surprise when I headed back to the basement to locate my fanny pack and another beautiful woman propositioned me.
She was on all fours about to be pegged by another woman, but she was insisting she help me find it.
“You shouldn’t be looking for anything—you’re about to get fucked," I told her. "Enjoy it. I wish your partner was pegging me!”
Her eyes lit up. “Don’t get pegged by my girlfriend; get pegged by me!”
I was dumbstruck. This incredibly sexy woman offered to peg me in the middle of getting pegged herself. Like, what? This doesn’t happen. Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of sex at sex parties, but usually, there’s some schmoozing first. Some work you need to put into it. Tonight that was not the case. People wanted to hook up with everyone, and I was very much here for it.
A little while later, the woman who got pegged came and found me. I’m all for putting things up my butt, so I was game—and I rode her “dick” like a goddamn pornstar. After getting pegged for what felt like hours, we went upstairs, where we found a feast in the kitchen: a proper buffet of fried steak, soba noodles, cabbage, and pork loins.
I was running on empty, and the food brought me back to life—enough to head back downstairs with Emily. We saw Ms. Open Invitation lying on a bed, so we laid down next to her and began kissing. We gave Ms. O.I. the please-hook-up-with-us eyes, and she joined us. After a fantastic 25-minute threesome, we all just lied on the bed, canoodling, catching our breaths, and cooling off.
Jonzu walked down and saw me on the cusp of going to sleep, so he dragged my ass back outside. On the way out, we saw a man getting fisted by a woman with a latex glove. I was shocked because you can’t get “casually” fisted. It requires a lot of prep and stretching throughout the day. Like everyone else I'd encountered at the party, this man had committed. God bless.
While I grabbed something to eat upstairs again, I struck up conversation with some other folks who were doing the same. Our conversations took an un-sexy turn to a topic that seemed be in the back of everyone's mind: breakthrough Covid cases. We all knew of people who’d been fully vaccinated, yet tested positive for Covid in the past two weeks.
Then it hit me: the reason people were thirstier than usual that night. It didn’t have to do with Hot Vax Summer—nearly everyone I'd spoken to had been going out for weeks, if not months since they'd been fully vaccinated. It had to do with people's collective fear of the Delta variant—the looming threat of another wave of Covid forcing the city (and its sex parities) to shut down again. People weren't trying to make up for lost time; they were scared that this summer—this party—could be our last taste of relative freedom.
A 2020 survey from the Kinsey Institute revealed that the early months of Covid lockdown wreaked havoc on many people's sex lives: 43.5% reported a decline in the quality of their sex life, whereas only 13.6% reported their sex life improved. (The rest reported no change.)
"The energy of the crowd was infectious, for lack of a better word," Emily would tell me the next day. "The play space was really crowded. Everyone partied and played like it could be the last time."
With this recent revelation, I began flirting with Josie, but this time, I told myself I would make a move. I said to her, “I need to find Jonzu, but if you’re interested, I’d love to have sex with you tonight.” I had planned to say this and then walk away—that way, she wouldn't feel pressure to respond on the spot. Before I could walk away, she said, “It depends. What would you do to me?”
I was put on the spot, but then again, I’m a sex writer, so I’m familiar with teasing out a sexy encounter. I leaned in close to her, my face just a few inches from hers, and said, “Well, first, I’d kiss you here,” as I stroked her neck with my index finger. “Then I’d make my way up to your lips,” I said as I gently touched her lips. “And well, after that, I’d have to go lower and kiss you elsewhere, teasing you, before we—” I paused, building the anticipation, just as Dr. Frank-N-Furter taught me—“Fuck,” I said.
I passed the test. I’m glad I did, because it had dawned on me that it might be the last time I had sex with someone new for a long period of time. We went down to the basement, and once again, I was left with the issue of finding some real estate. We squeezed in and started hooked up next to a hot FFM threesome. I carried out my promises to her, and then we ended up switching partners: I had sex with one of the women in the threesome, and Josie began hooking up with the guy.
When my new partner and I were tired out, we finally introduced ourselves.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” I replied. “That was amazing.”
“It really was. I’m Sarah.”
“I’m Zach."
The other woman from the threesome chimed in—literally while riding her partner. “Wait, you guys didn’t know each other before fucking?”
That's when I recognized the second woman. She was a world-renowned sex expert who I often use as a source for my articles.
"That was you?!" I screamed, relieved I didn't accidentally hook up with a colleague.
She laughed. “How did you not realize it was me?”
“Your face has been buried in pussy! Oh my God! We almost had sex.” We both erupted in laughter.
Jonzu, who truly has a knack for timing, came over to the bed at this point. “Is it time to go?” I asked.
“Babe, it’s 4:50,” he replied.
Whoa. Times flies when you’re fucking.
This was by far the most amount of sex I’ve had at any sex party. Hours upon hours. Old partners. New partners. Pegging. Threesomes. Foursomes. Everything. It was incredible—probably my favorite sex party I’ve ever attended.
At this party, everyone had sex like their life depended on it because they truly didn’t know when they'd get to be this free again. Hopefully, someday, when all Covid is done for good, we can take that same mentality into all sex parties. Screw it—to our sex lives in general. We shouldn’t need an omnipresent, apocalyptic virus to have sex like there’s no tomorrow. We should always fuck like the world is ending.
