Let’s face it. Real sex isn’t much like your typical porno.

Before I started gettin’ nekkid and schtooping in front of crowds (small crowds!), I held onto a whole lotta insecurities about my body. I’ve seen it change, age, and sag (oh the sagging) for years now; somehow I’d gotten it into my head that other human bodies were immune to these changes.

They aren’t. Watching other people fuck has been enormously educational. I recommend it for everyone. Er, nearly everyone. I wouldn’t recommend it to my close relatives (shudder).

I betcha you thought that people into public sex all had perfect bodies, dintcha? Well, they don’t.

Here’s what you do: Next time you head to the mall or even the grocery store, take your camera. Aim it right across center court in the mall, or down the milk aisle in the grocery store. Snap a quick picture.

Download the image to your computer and mentally block out all the underage folks (seriously now). You might think at this point that I would recommend that you also mentally block out the older people too.

Don’t. Trust me on this one.

What’s left in the picture is an approximation of the crowd that can be found at your everyday standard group event. Take a closer look. See who is in your picture. People from 21 to 80. People of every color, every size, every height, every degree of attractiveness.

At a group event, you’ll see folks who would look at home in any possible public location. They are perfectly standard-issue human beings.

Would you like some specifics?

• Nearly everyone in their 30s and beyond has at least a few skin tags. I was under the impression that I was the only one sporting these weird little protrusions. I’m so relieved to find out that I’m not.

• Most of the women have little (or not so little) bellies. Bellies are more pronounced if there’s also a c-section scar.

• Yeah, most men have some degree of gut too. Six-pack abs are mercifully rare.

• The surgical scars (on both sexes) are legion. I so want to ask each person with such a scar to tell me what it’s from, but I’m pretty sure that would be in poor taste.

• No one’s got a perfectly smooth ass. Bottoms are prime gathering spots for blemishes of all varieties. We’ve all got them. Right now I’m sporting this on my bottom*, which is actually the work of a some random arthropod (one of the hazards of doin’ it in a pool**), but it must look like it’s ready to steal the very soul of the person pumping into me from behind. Ah, such is life.

• Speaking of butts: they sag. That’s just all there is to it.

• So do breasts.

• Even terribly thin people have stretch marks. I’ve looked—coyly of course. If 50 random orgy-goers were to line up naked, I’d hazard a guess that after thorough scrutiny, only a couple of them could be certified stretch-mark free.

• Pubic hair topiary ranges from full-on all-natural bushes to nothingness. I like to spy on very hairy dudes who decide to go bare; it makes me smile to see the line of demarcation between hirsute and hairless. I don’t smile in a cruel way. Really. It’s just that the line looks so…vulnerable. It’s sweet.

And along with large variations in the human form, there’s also a great range in … how should I say this politely?

Ah fuck it. At group events, there are sane people and crazy people. There are people who are completely cool about the idea of watching other folks have sex, and then there are those who get nutty. Usually those folks don’t come back, or they are asked politely yet very firmly to leave.

But perhaps nuttiness and human frailty as applied to orgy attendance is a topic that should be left for another day.

So next time that elusive orgy invitation arrives at your house (via certified mail, on engraved stationery, in a lined envelope of course), don’t hesitate to check the “I’ll attend!” box out of fear that your body will be judged as wonky.

Don’t misunderstand. Your body is very likely to be wonky in at least some small way***, but it will be no more wonky than the next person’s. And this is exactly as it should be.

I can offer you a 100% money-back guarantee**** on this.

___________________

*This is hyperbole.

**Drowning is another.

***If you actually believe yourself to possess a completely un-wonky body, I will need photographic evidence so that I may judge for myself. You know the email.

****Many, many restrictions apply to this offer.

Please prepare yourselves for a short yet highly judgmental rant.

Over the past few months I’ve attended a number of group events–group events where eventually some people get naked. I’ve had way more fun than any nearly-40 year old mommy-type should legally be allowed to have. Perhaps you’ve noticed?

During the sometimes long stretches at these group events when I’ve not been getting the very life fucked out of me, I’ve busied myself with the wide-eyed observation of the other attendees and their habits. I’ve done this both because I’m a nosy lil’ fuck and because it’s all potentially bloggable.

Anonymously bloggable, of course.

There’s been one troubling constant I’ve noticed: People drink. People drink more than it seems like they really should.

You could no doubt make a case that drinking to excess at any place where there’s hard dick and wet pussy a’plenty is not the best idea. That sort of drinking raises questions about the drinkers’ ability to give consent, protect themselves from STDs and pregnancy, drive home later and et cetera.

All of those considerations are troublesome; however, there’s one aspect of heavy drinking in sexually-charged situations that bothers me the most. Why, I am forced to wonder, would people want to dull both their enjoyment and their memory of sex?

There have been times that my friend and I were the only ones not drinking at an event. Oddly enough, those times have also found us naked first, fucking first and screaming first; later, if you tallied everything up, we’d doubtlessly be the ones who were the most naked, the most well-fucked and the most screamed-out.

Anyone who had observed us (and oh, people do observe us) would no doubt say that we’d had a right nice time…and we managed to do it with with our wits about us. And the next day we have clear (oh quite clear, thank you very much) memories of what we did.

I have to think that if you feel the need to drink in order to lower your inhibitions enough to get naked and/or play amongst a group, then you’d probably do best to stay home.