Friday, November 05, 2004

Oh Gee!

Two Saturdays ago in Bed a guy whom I was dancing and flirting with asked me for my digits. “I wanna invite you to a party next Saturday,” he said. Thinking that there’s nothing wrong with being Miss Friendship, I gave him my number without hesitation. I thought it’ll be like one of those grand EB things.

So when Saturday came, I received a text message: Hi guys! You’re invited to a stud party tonight… blah, blah, blah… bring your cute friends! Hmmm… okay. At that point a thought entered my mind, but I pushed it away. Nah, maybe it’s not. So I went to the party venue in Makati, but the moment I reached the hotel door and couldn’t hear any dance music thumping from within, I was almost sure my hunch was correct. When the door opened and I stepped into the dimly-lit studio-type room, my suspicions were confirmed.

I had stumbled upon my very first organized gay orgy parties!

I’ve heard about these parties before, in hushed tones whispered among gays. The party is usually held in a hotel or condominium and is strictly by invitation only. The guys who organize these parties are usually the macho-gay ones. These people will never invite a flamboyant or obviously effeminate gay person. There also seems to be a minimum requirement as to physical features (face and body), although I was wondering why I got invited in the first place; maybe the guy in Bed who invited me was too drunk at that time. It was oh so very fascinating—discrimination among the discriminated.

I didn’t really know anyone there (Mr. He Who Invited Me hadn’t shown up yet), so I just kept to myself, contented to watch the gay porn video playing. Guys were scoping each other out. When most of the invited guests had arrived, the orgy started.

First they announced: “Guys, shirts off.” Then it was: “Pants off.” Pretty soon it was all bets are off. At first I played the coy one, keeping to myself while most of the action moved to the bed. But I soon realized that in this kind of sexual smorgasbord, one should help oneself to the buffet otherwise there won’t be any left. So I dove right in.

Everyone cooperated, keeping their voices down so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. It was also more arousing to hear those hushed tones—something about doing the forbidden. I also quickly figured out certain “orgy conventions”: [1] no one can force you to do anything you don’t want, and vice versa; [2] be polite when refusing someone; [3] the hotter the guy, the more crowded his space is. The hottest guy in the room was this mestizo-looking hunk. Tall and well-built, he’s a muscular gym bunny who looked like he should be having a lite beer at Havana in Greenbelt 3. Instead he was being serviced by four guys—one had him at a lip-lock, two were tweaking his nipples with their mouths, and one went down on him. I and the others could only watch. I mean, where else can one insert himself in, right?

This went on for about an hour; by that time, most had already mixed-and-matched with one another. I was feeling out of it; maybe had I been more familiar to all of them I’d be more comfortable. Even when He Who Invited Me arrived, he was too busy mixing with the others to mind me. I was thinking of leaving when I saw Mr. Mestizo get it on with this Chinese-looking guy, fairly well-built, a little shorter than the former. I was looking for my shoes when I heard Mestizo Guy say, in a breathless, moaning voice, “Dude, pare… sure you can handle it?” Dude? Pare?! Handle what? I went over to the bed where they were. Mestizo Guy had his legs up in the air, while Chinese Guy was poised to, uhm, analyze him. Ooh! Mestizo Guy’s a bottom! Apparently Chinese Guy can “handle” it, and pretty soon he was “manhandling” Mestizo Guy. Meanwhile, in the bathroom there was a “shower scene” on-going too.

Whew! Afterwards I bade a quick goodbye to one of the hosts and left the place weak-kneed.