Last weekend, my husband and I attended an intimate, 20-person sex party in a gorgeous loft apartment.
When we arrived, we could not believe how attractive every guest was — we were all in our 20s-30s (apart from a 50-something man who was the most fit person there), there were super sexy women wearing lingerie from the outset, no major alpha energy (except from a few girls which is a turn on for me), and everyone was chill, welcoming, and respectful. My tight green lacy dress was on the more modest side, though I could see people’s eyes (my husband’s included) lingering on my visibly hard nipples. After drinks, the hosts circled up the guests and we went around sharing our pronouns, orientation, hard limits, how we like to be asked for consent, and our hopes for the evening. As each person spoke in turn, I could feel my pulse rev up as it neared our turn to share. This was partially because there were some very sexy people speaking about the ways they love to fuck. It was also because I knew what my husband was going to say when it was our turn to speak.