I fell in love with myself, at a sex party

Posted on May 5, 2013


I’ve recently graced my presence at a couple of sex parties. For the sexual elite, the tagline promises.

Sexual elite or not, the whole experience has left me marginally more happy.

I am more happy.

Because I have been touched. Stroked. Kissed. Worshiped.

I have fulfilled fantasies beyond my wildest dreams. I have experienced things I never necessarily thought I would. Stuff I’ve watched in movies and on TV shows, with people who look like they could have been in movie and TV shows.

Dreamlike states took control of my night.

And my self.

And because I didn’t know who these people were, I barely knew – or remembered – their names, I recall no connection other than that of the physical, so I can’t attach any emotion to the experience. Emotion that my usually quite monogamous self would attach to the action.

Given i’ve been on a quest to learn how to love myself, truly love myself – I think its possibly true to say that its myself that I’ve fallen in love with, at these sex parties.

It’s certainly myself, that i’ve gone home with…

Posted in: Journal