Becoming The Answer

I turned 42 this year, which means I am now The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything (follow the link for the geeky reference).

So for my birthday party, I gathered a few local kinkster friends with a very specific set of criteria:

• I had to believe they wanted good things for me
• I had to believe they would not be offended or bothered by sexual play (many kinksters, especially BDSM players, only play with pain outside their primary relationship, but they don't include overtly sexual acts)
• I had to believe they would say "no" to my request if they were uncomfortable in any way (not everyone will)
• I had to believe they would enjoy running their hands over my body (not everyone would)
• I had to believe they would not be traumatized if I cried in front of them

The first unbelievably wonderful thing about my birthday is that I had to pare down my list: there were enough people fitting those criteria in our kinkster community that I couldn't invite everyone who I wished could have been there, because the sheer volume of people in our home would have been counterproductively overwhelming.

So. Yeah. This is the part where my brain goes -splork- from disbelief with how crazy wonderful my life sometimes is.

-splork-

Here is what I said to kick off the party after everyone had gathered, also known as Easily The Most Insane Speech Ever:

Thank you all so much for coming here tonight.

I'm almost sure you all know this, but just in case: in addition to this being a birthday party, it is also 2 days before my disability insurance settlement hearing. We've waited three years for this hearing, and it's been a crazy hard road.

[start to cry, spend the rest of the speech powering through tears as best I can]

So this week, to prepare for the hearing, I am doing lots of things which normally wipe me out - but nothing that would have made me dizzy in 2008 before I got vertigo - and I'm pretending like it's 2008 and I don't need to recuperate between activities. I'm pretending that there is no vertigo wall for me to crash into.

However, what only three of you know, and this is hard to say out loud, but... something shifted in my neurological balance over the summer, in June some time, I think, and some things have been wiping me out even more than usual since then. And unfortunately, one of those activities has been having orgasms, especially with a partner. So, I just haven't been. Having orgasms. With other people. Not really at all for a few months now. Poor guys. [gesture to my husband and my local lover]

My local lover: No, poor you [I nod, catch my breath again, take in the empathy I feel in the room]

So, hmmm, let me see, if I'm trying to do things I enjoy this week without worrying about getting wiped out... what could I possibly come up with that I might enjoy? [everyone laughs]

So I figure that if I'm going to have a non-solo orgasm, I might as well go big and... y'know... throw a party and invite everyone in the party to help bring me to orgasm. Cuz... y'know... go big or go home, right? [gentle cheering]

So that's the goal. Now for logistics. I'm going to explain an insane amount of information and caveats, after which you can make an informed decision whether or not you want to participate.

First of all, I was tested for Sexually Transmitted Infections earlier this week, and they all came out negative, and the copy of my STI report is right here if you want to see it [wave a paper].

Next, before we start, I'm going to be a crazy controlling control freak and ask everyone to wash your hands so I don't get the flu on Monday [everybody laughs at me].

Also, I bought a bunch of those single-use toothbrushes Colgate Wisps, so if you want to kiss me or lick me, feel free to brush your teeth first if you'd feel more relaxed about it, or use the mouthwash in the bathroom.

Also, if you want gloves, we have some non-latex gloves, and feel free to wear them.

Also, in what is perhaps the most embarrassing and awkward thing to admit to a sex party ever, I ... ummmm... deep breath... I started my period yesterday [groans of "oh fuck I'm sorry" from the women], so I just douched and I have in a menstrual cup, so there shouldn't be any blood, but if that freaks you out, feel free to avoid touching my cooch.

Okay. Now I'm gonna die a little. [crazy face while waves of "I can't believe I'm doing this, I can't believe I just said that" wash over me]

Okay, I'm back. So. What's gonna happen is, I want you to help me undress, then guide me to that table, and then you're gonna gather around me, and you're gonna touch me, kiss me, lick me anywhere on my body until I have as many orgasms as I can stand.

Well, except, don't touch me anally, because if anybody did that, it would probably be over too soon, and it would be a harder intensity orgasm than I want. The same for pain - no pain, because it would escalate me too fast, and I want this to last as long as possible.

So you'll use your hands and/or mouth. I got some flavored body butter that smells and tastes like cake [side note: it totally does], so if you want to rub it into me or lick it off me, feel free.

Think gentle in terms of touch. Whole fingers, palms... stroking, not tickling. If you're touching my pussy, think petting, not rubbing. [demonstrate on my arm] If your fingers are inside me, think pressing, not pumping [demonstrate on my fist wrapped around fingers]. I promise it will be enough to make me come, because this is all already very intense for me.

Afterward, after I have an orgasm, I'll probably ask you to just stay with me for a moment while I come down a bit. And, I might crash... I mean, I might have an unpleasant vertigo reaction, and I might cry. It might look like it's hard for me to go through.

But here's the important thing for you to remember: I chose this. I chose you. You are not doing something bad to me. I designed this moment to be exactly what I wanted it to be, and you are here because I trust you and I want to share this moment with you. I believe this will be exactly what I want and need it to be. I'm asking you to do this, even knowing what's going to happen. I am choosing this.

So now... go wash up, and anybody who is willing to participate, gather back here when you're done.

Of course, in reality, all of that came out less well-organized, with clarifying questions, and stuff I forgot the first time, but that was approximately what was conveyed by the time the group re-gathered.

We gathered. I said thank you. I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and said, "Okay". And I felt my roommate peel my clothes off me, my lover guide me onto the table, my husband's hand over my heart.

And then...

It felt like a sea of hands. Little waves of fingers crested and broke on my skin, replaced by new waves of gentle, rolling touch. It was amazing.

I heard whispering and jostling as the group trial-and-error figured out how to fit everyone into the space - I heard later they were rotating slowly around me so everyone could have a turn, because not everyone fit all at once, with my husband and lover approximately opposite me, with a few people watching from the other room at any given time.

I realized after about three minutes, just as the rhythm was starting to settle in, that I had, spectacularly, remembered to shave my pubic hair, but neglected to shave my legs, which I said out loud in abject shame, and everyone laughed at me and my easy-to-forget peach-fuzz leg hair.

I was rubbed, stroked, pressed, caressed, kissed, licked, suckled, petted.

I heard later that a couple of people got a little overwhelmed and stepped back just to watch, crying quietly, while others continued to rotate slowly around me.

It felt like the same person was gently touching my face the whole time, but I found out later that almost everyone had touched my face. I don't know how that's possible, but it was wonderful.

I felt loved. Cherished. Adored. Supported. It felt like the hands of everyone who ever cared for me were wishing their prayers into me for my good, for my healing, to give me love.

Although it may sound hokey to say, I thought of you some of you: readers, callers, friends I've never met in person, people I would have loved to have be there with us, people who felt like they were there with us.

I could feel the love of everyone who ever loved me.

And I came, twice, I think, although it was more like one that kept rolling into another. As the orgasms washed over me, I was grabbing on to wrists I couldn't identify, pressing against fingers I couldn't distinguish, arching under hands I couldn't place.

It broke over me, and I felt the vertigo washing in behind it, and I tapped something twice and said, "Okay" and then hands all went away, as if they were all one person. "No, no, stay touching, just stay" and they all came back, together, pressing into me, as if they were all from one heart, centered by the hand which was suddenly obviously my husband's over my heart, the hand that was suddenly obviously my lover's pressing into my belly, to ground me.

I cried into all of them, letting that first ugly wave of chaotic backlash hit me. I breathed through it as best I could, tensing up, and releasing, releasing, releasing, as best I could.

Then my breath returned, a bit at a time. I'm sure it was just five minutes maybe ten, but it felt like an eternity. Nobody moved. Everybody just ... stayed.

"Okay" I said again, nodding slowly. "Okay".

Nobody moved.

I smiled a little, snuggled into someone's arm, said, "Okay, I can do this," then let my eyes blink open.

If you've never been lying on a table, surrounded by people pouring intense amounts of love into you, and looked up at all of them all at once, let me assure you: it's incredibly intense.

I believe my response was to curl into a ball, put my hands over my eyes, and say something brilliant like, "aaaaaaaa! too much! too many eyeballs! go away, ya creepers!" At which point, everyone laughed at me, hugged me, reached out for one last touch, and left me with my husband and my roommate and my lover, where they wrapped me in a blanket and cuddled me until I could crawl up one stair at a time to my bed with my husband's help.

A few people came upstairs and cuddled me, thanked me, told me what they had felt, what they had seen, then quietly disappeared again. It was lovely.

After about 2 hours, I think, and some bizarre-but-peaceful vertigo dreams (which feel more like vivid hallucinations than sleeping dreams), I had settled enough to venture back downstairs, one stair at a time, with help again, but this time, dressed in my favorite sleep t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. The group dynamics had livened up considerably, more like one of our normal parties. People were rassling and beating and doing all manners of naughtiness to each other. I floated from person to person when people weren't actively in play scenes with each other, thanking them, hugging them, trying to let the snacks and hugs bring me back to earth. I felt and sounded wasted, forgetting words and being ridiculously confused, but everyone was gentle and kind and amused with me.

We opened presents, one of which was decorated in colorful pipe cleaners, which I drunkenly wove into my hair. There were presents for both me and my roommate, and at one point, I stared at the card with my FetLife handle written on it, which is the name I introduce myself as at munches, a personal nickname of sorts, which I hear and use often among my friends, and I genuinely wondered who to give the present to because my brain could not figure out it was for me, for waaaaaay too long. The laughter when I said, "Oh! That's me!" intensified when it turned out the card was a 'getting older' card about how your memory stops working ... priceless.

In case you're curious, here's how I look when I'm brain-drunk beyond belief, with pipe cleaners in my hair, two or three hours after a vertigo crash.

It was perfect. Everyone was amazing. It was exactly what I needed it to be, and more.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, in case you were wondering, is how you become The Answer to Everything. I would have suspected that it required a giant helping of love, which it did, but who could have guessed it also needed pipe cleaners? Well, now we know.

The Hand Orgy

Tied and Peaceful

January 23 kicked off the Chinese New Year of the Dragon. I ran across this handy explanation:

"Exciting, unpredictable, exhilarating and intense, according to the Chinese tradition, these are the characteristics of the Year of the Dragon. Be warned, following the Rabbit's year of cautious optimism, the Dragon is renowned for its unbridled enthusiasm and has been known to throw caution to the wind! Now's the time to make this your Year of Adventure!"

Well, thank you - I think I will!

Warning: the next picture is even more Not-Safe-For-Work (NSFW) than the first picture. I'm giving you space to look away, although I sincerely hope you don't, because it's good for me when you have sexy images of me stuck in your head.

I realized at our New Year's Eve party that I had to make a choice because of my vertigo: either I could process or deliver pain (flogger, spanking, paddle, crop, etc - they take as much concentration to wield as to receive), or I could stay at the party and be social, but I couldn't do both. Being in crowds makes me very dizzy, taking someone else into pain subspace and back makes me very dizzy, and going into pain subspace and back makes me very dizzy, so I have to choose only one of those things in any given 3-day period.

I'm not gonna lie: that sucks. It's emotionally difficult to be at a party where there are luscious floggers, and people with years of experience throwing them who are perfectly willing to fly me, and other people happy to watch that happen. It is seriously hard to turn that down. It's worth it to be at the party as an observer, building friendships by having happy kinky flirty time, but it's a helluva reminder of my limitations.

So somewhere in this insane blur of a month, we went to a BDSM party where people were playing with painful sensations and impact (several at the hand of my husband, who is as surprised and delighted and turned on as I am that he seems to be kinda in-demand at these types of parties). And although I love watching, I got antsy to participate without triggering my vertigo.

Thankfully for me, a gentleman was there with hundreds of feet of rope and many hours of bondage experience, and he was willing to tie me up with no expectation for hurting me or being sexy after being tied. My husband helped me think of all my caveats: no ties across my neck in case I couldn't differentiate blood loss to my head from dizziness, no standing with my feet bound together because my balance isn't good enough to maintain that, and, as with any bondage, the person tying me had to stay close by as long as I was bound in case I needed a quick release.

I stood first for a rope corset with my hands behind my back, but my legs free, enjoying the pulls and tugs, and relaxing into the feeling of my arms stretched a little behind me. I enjoyed leaning against him as he drew the rope across my flesh time and time again. Then we found a sitting position I could maintain comfortably, and he did an asymmetrical bind to keep me in that position.

And the most beautiful thing happened slowly: I relaxed into a sexy blur, a kind of a sub space, I think, of enjoying the exhibitionism (I was only wearing panties), and enjoying the feeling of increasing restriction (I've always loved bondage, but never done it as an end unto itself without combining it with other sensation play). When he was done and I was testing my bonds and figuring out if I could move (I kinda could scoot on my knees, but it was quite un-graceful), it was fun and floaty and sexy and relaxing without being stressful.

Is it weird that I relax when I'm tied up? Isn't that the point, to let yourself feel a little helpless? Well, it can be the point, I guess. That night, it was the point for me.

Then my husband finished up with the spankings he was delivering to Devant upstairs and they both came down, along with the crowd who had been watching (and "helping" her count, although I hear there was mischief involved around the number 13...).

When he knelt behind me and whispered in my ear how beautiful I looked, suddenly an old desire came back to me, something we've talked about for years, but never had the right space to make it happen: for as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be naked and bound in the middle of a group of people and have them run their hands over me, lovingly, gently, playfully, without causing any pain, just caressing.

All of a sudden, it dawned on both my husband and I at the same time that this was the perfect time to fulfill that fantasy.

And so it was.

Happily, sensually overwhelmed

My husband briefly explained to the people in the room what I wanted and asked for help, and I felt a gentle surge of warm bodies nestling in around me: my husband, Devant, another woman who has played with my husband, the woman who gave us our welcome and invitations to our first play party, the man who had just bound me, and his lover.

Intellectually, I understand that they probably watched my husband and followed his lead, but at the moment, it felt like the world stood still, and everyone magically understood exactly what I needed.

I was overwhelmed. I felt relief to have found something so sexy and so sensual that didn't immediately spin me into extreme dizziness. I felt gratitude for the friends we have made in such a short time with our new community of kinksters. I felt the release of literally years of holding onto this fantasy and having it fulfilled while feeling so safe and beautiful and treasured.

For one magical moment, it felt like I had been transported to a place where the hands of everyone who has ever loved me were caressing me, all at once. The room expanded into the past and the future, the hands multiplied, and I knew all the love of my whole life all at once.

I think I squeaked out something like, "I'm gonna cry if that's okay" and then proceeded to do exactly that while the hands continued, and voices murmured encouragement from every direction.

The quick-thinking person who captured the moment on my phone camera has been profusely thanked.

What has since come to be known as "The Hand Orgy" probably only lasted five minutes, just long enough for the wave of emotion to break over me and subside. Once I returned to only one point on the space-time continuum, I opened my eyes, found my words again, and I was ready to be unbound and rejoin the party.

The after effects, interestingly enough, were the same as returning from subspace after impact play: first I wanted to be still and with cuddly arms wrapped around me, then I needed to drink and snack, and then I was very happy and feeling social.

People who had seen the hand orgy, but had not participated (they came in the room after it had started and were uncertain if they were welcome to join), were very sweet, telling me how beautiful it was. And the hosts thanked me for gracing their home with such a lovely moment. Awwww /sniffle

So if sometime in the past couple of weeks, you happened to dream of running your hands over my body while I leaned into you and whispered, "thank you" through happy tears, now you know why.

Thank you for being there with me in spirit.