The following is a list of regrets and lessons learned from N’s Sapphic Soiree:
The biggest lesson, I would say, is that I don’t want people there who aren’t thrilled to be there for the duration. Who aren’t in it for the fun, and not for some other reason, whether emotional or financial. That’s not to say that there can’t be emotional or even financial compensation in the mix, but it is to say that if those are primary, they belong at a different party.
A second thing is, I really need to do some “steel-manning” of the argument against the inclusion of any particular woman. I need to imagine what the worst-case scenario is, and ponder how I feel about that. I don’t know that I would have excluded anyone had I done that, but I think it would have been good for me to have thought it all through a bit more.
I told Cee I’ve been in a dozen or so threesomes in my life, maybe even more, and in something like half of them, the most anxious of the three, the most conflicted, most vulnerable, most ambivalent, most nervous, has drunk too much. In general, I’m always inclined to avoid the daddy role, to inhabit a role of dominance, but not so much paternalistic watching out. This is a tightrope that I walk.
On the one hand, I want to be with adults, not children – people who (can) take care of themselves, people who (can) express their needs and anticipate their vulnerabilities. On the other hand, I do want things to go a certain way, and if it’s taken me this long to learn it, I think I finally have learned that at least a little bit of paternalism is called for in situations like this. I need to regulate the intake of intoxicants. Ideally not in a heavy-handed or forbidding way, but rather in a directive way. One drink, two drinks, I think that’s fine. I think once we’re at two drinks, we’re kind of done.
Similarly, while THC is a welcome addition, no one needs more than ten milligrams, and five really is optimal. And there might need to be some co-regulation, some limitation of the combination of drinks and weed to avoid over-intoxication. I don’t know how many drinks Polina had, I suspect four or five, maybe even more. I think two were had at the table with Anastasia. Several of the women had a third drink at the table with me, and then there was alcohol in the room. While this looked nice, and sounded nice, and seemed nice on paper, in practice it was a little too much.
Another thing I failed to do was to elicit from the women prior to the event their wishes, hopes, and dreams for it. In a couple of instances, I had done so. I knew, for example, that Polina wanted to have her first sexual experience with a woman. I knew that Saya wanted to have the experience of scissoring with a woman. On those two, we batted .500. Polina got her wish in spades. Saya didn’t get hers. Cee and I never discussed her wishes, really.
I think we all (or at least I) got carried away with simple excitement.
But it seems somehow almost a crime, and one of which I plead guilty, that Cee neither went down on nor was gone down on by a woman. For fuck’s sake, how can that be? There were seven beautiful women in the room, six of them who weren’t her. How did I let it transpire that I was the only one who tasted her?
I had articulated to myself a number of visual fantasies I had: Seeing the women in matching panties, seeing them in the t-shirts I bought them, seeing them all touching themselves at the same time. I didn’t collect any of those pleasures.
I’ve written several times now that when I was imagining this evening, my imagining for the most part stopped at the arrival of the last woman, Anastasia, in the room. This isn’t exactly true, because as I just said, I had some visuals I hoped to collect. But it is true that I had a little tick-tock schedule of the sequence of events leading up to Anastasia’s arrival, and that tick-tock ended when she entered the room.
Having not thought it through, and being perhaps a little bit overwhelmed by sensation and stimulus, I became somewhat passive. I summoned a woman occasionally, or went to one. I gave the odd direction, here or there. But my control relented substantially. My direction relaxed. This was a mistake. I allowed myself to recede into the position of pleasure receiver and pleasure giver, and abandoned the post of director. But it’s the post of director that turns me on the most, and as I said to Cee, there’s no reason I couldn’t direct while my cock was in a woman’s mouth. I should have done this.
Next time, I’ll be sure to.