(
Note to readers:
Welcome back to the now-and-then orgy that develops gradually. As 'Conchita' notes, what she was going to write was dealt with by Fiona and Larry [in "Our 6-Level Orgy: About Jealousy"], so she uses her soapbox to describe what she learned from three couples who don't stay for all of the festivities. All characters are at least 18 years old, and details of the sex are in the tags. Enjoy!)
***
I should know better, by now. With so many things written about our orgy, by those of us who participate in it, the writing has basically become a cottage industry. Jack and Sally are constantly trying to find more content. Recently, I made the casual observation that we all seem to have rock-solid marriages, despite the fact that we have sex with people other than our spouses. Sally jumped on this immediately and said, "You should write about that, Conchita!"
Except my name isn't 'Conchita,' and her name isn't 'Sally.' We're very open with each other, when a couple dozen of us gather for our frisky fun--but we try to hide our identities from the world in general, when we write about this. I guess that this has worked, so far, because the Adultery Police haven't smashed down my door and hauled away my husband and me.
And we definitely adulterize. I bang other men, right out there in Sally & Jack's big living room, shamelessly, not caring who else can see. My husband sneaks off to a guest room with some other man's wife, so nobody else can see.
Which is 'worse?'
You can ponder that while I address some non-salacious matters.
My own experience isn't very dramatic. I show up here with Hugh (not his real name, and I hope you get the idea now), and we mingle and screw with other people, and then we go home together and proceed with our lives (and screw as a married couple). Besides, if the idea was to find out why sleep-around marriages stay together, this would have to bring in the experience of several couples.
The thing is, it took me a while to write something. Before I could finish, Larry and Fiona posted an item about how they deal with jealousy. That pretty well addressed the major points in what I was planning to write. This can be confusing, because some people have written about things that started before, and ended after, things that other people wrote about. So our posts can't exactly be read in chronological order. I guess that seems vague and messy, like life itself.
Anyway, it's appropriate that I learned about what they wrote, during sex.
Some people get along very well, physically. Whenever Larry is at the orgy, I really enjoy welcoming him.
"H-how, how've you been?" he asked, bearing down on me in missionary.
"Okay," I yipped. It felt so nice, the way his shaft matched up with my vaginal walls. "Having, trouble, writing something for Sally."
"What, about?" Ooooh, he can long-stroke me without flipping loose! The glans pushed back the labia on the outstroke, but then slid back inside.
"Couples stay, staying, together," I huffed. "Not being jealous." He's not the longest or thickest guy there, he's just an excellent fit for me.
He laughed during a wheeze. "Beat you to it!" He was flat on top of me, his skin rubbing my clit hood when he was fully inserted. "Fiona 'n' I jus' wrote that!"
"Great!" I said. No longer obligated, I was now happy for two reasons.
I always climax with Larry's sausage in my hotbox, not needing direct contact with my clitoris. In a dance move that you'll never see in polite society, I rapidly wrapped my legs around his. He started to spasm, and sweated bullets. I howled, while he grunted. We may be the loudest bangers in the bunch.
You don't often see much written about this kind of compatibility. I think that, for many people, it doesn't matter a great deal, they do fine with a wide variety of tabs or slots. To me, though, having this dynamite fuck available once in a while is a nice addition to my quality of life. I'm grateful to Larry, and to his wife Fiona, and to Hugh, to allow me this naughty indulgence.
Anyway, as usual we lingered in our shared orgasm, then gradually calmed and regained the ability to breathe normally, then smiled and kissed and cuddled. Then his shlong departed from my quim, with an amusing wet noise. Larry, stoked by vasodilating chemicals, would later be welcomed by other women. I, afloat on pleasure chemicals, ambled to the bar, and made myself a cup of tea. There, I chatted with friends who were between bangings, while we watched other friends who were hyping their own pleasure chemicals.
I was a bit smug about shedding my writing responsibility. I didn't mention this at the time, but I saw someone to whom I could crow. Jack was milling around alone, in the vast open space of his living room, in his self-appointed role of making sure every sex act was fully consensual.
I strolled up to him, grinned as I stroked his chest, and said, "Larry tells me that he's already written what Sally asked me to write. So now I'm free!"
He grinned down at me. (The big galoot is about a head taller.) "Then you can take on a different assignment. I'd like to see something about the people who leave here early, and why they do that."
I scowled, even as I got turned on by his scent. "How are you going to make that worth my while?"
He won me over by giving me a long, luscious session of cunnilingus.
That sounds more coercive than it was. He would have gladly eaten me out anyway, and I don't mind writing something about the orgy. It's interesting, what we do here. Especially the way it's set up, so people can play around for a while, and then leave before they could do something they might regret.
During the next few get-togethers, I conducted short interviews. I had to pin people down and ask them to talk, sometimes during break time.
Yes, there are breaks in the action. They're scheduled by Sally and Jack. I'm not going to sacrifice my 'illicit' sex time by using any of it to ask questions, and tap a keyboard. Nor would my interview subjects give up the chance to, say, play with my naked body, solely to describe their attitude towards, say, playing with my naked body (or somebody else's naked body). So it was during breaks that I buttonholed people (sometimes while we were unbuttoning). The breaks during the orgy relate to how the event progresses gradually towards full-on sex. Also, to be honest, the breaks make it easier on us, because most of us are middle-aged, and some of us need to pace ourselves.
As you may have read from other people here, the orgy advances in levels, and the breaks allow us to transition from one level to the next. First, we chat. Then, we add making out, with some dancing. In level three we strip down to underwear, for more out-making. (If that wasn't a term before, I hereby declare that it is.) In four, we go nude, but mostly just get handsy. In level five, oral sex is allowed. Six can include genital-to-genital sex, plus all of the above. (And anal, though most of us don't do that in the orgy.)
While I was starting to write this, Hugh asked that I include his description of me. His exact words: 'She's a raven-haired Latin beauty, with huge dark eyes that could steal any man's soul.' That's very sweet, and I should probably just leave it at that. But I won't. The other people who write here have been honest about themselves. I should do no less. I'm short, and the passage of time has made me pudgy--but hasn't added any bulk to my bosom, which barely protrudes at all from my chest.
My parents are from Puerto Rico. As I was growing up, they insisted on us speaking both English and Spanish at home. No, not just that,
perfect
English and
perfect
Spanish. My sibs and I worried that we'd have to walk around quoting Cervantes and Austen. It was never quite that extreme, but it always seemed possible.
I'll say this much about Hugh, because he's been willing to disclose it before: He's a lawyer.
El es un abogado.
Okay, I'll stop now. (He asked that I not describe him physically. He promised he'd do that himself, when he writes something here. If he ever does.)
I admit to being a good dancer, Latin and otherwise. And, oh yeah, I'm a woman, so on any given orgy night, I get more requests for sex than I'm willing to accept. Two penis-in-vagina sessions are just fine. Three? Sometimes. Four? I tried that once, and won't again. So many of these guys use boner pills (excuse me, 'vasodilation chemicals'), and want to pound away all night. Lube can only do so much. I don't enjoy it when my pussy feels like sandpaper.
We're all very close friends, but not everyone wants to get really naughty outside marriage. The breaks between levels allow people to decide if they want to keep going, or leave. I know from experience that an early departure can lead to wild sex that night at home.
What I have are interviews with Gail and Mitch, Bennett and Lindsey, and Margo and George. I wasn't able to pin down Charlotte and Mohan, but Sally and Jack have written a long piece about them, in a swinging/swapping context.
