Let me entertain you

So, there I am in line at Target with a basket full of white washcloths, two boxes of Durex Extra Sensitive condoms, bags of Valentine's Day themed pink and red M&Ms, two cases of mini-bottles of water and two sets of the cheapest sheets they had in the least offensive color I could find. I grinned with a knowing smirk at the woman ringing up my purchases, hoping she would put two and two together. I wanted to say, "Yep, just picking up some stuff for the orgy. You know how it is." She didn't seem to care.

I gathered up all of my throw pillows and made a little nest of cushions next to the bed. I rearranged the furniture in the bedroom, blew-up the Aero bed and Swifter-ed like I've never Swifter-ed before. I rolled up the towels and put them in a little wire basket next to the lube and the dish of condoms. I was feeling very Martha Stewart about the whole thing. I casually tossed some rope in a corner and hung out the floggers and paddles for easy access. Back in the kitchen we finished up the food: strawberries, carrots, cucumbers, cheese and crackers, slicing lemons and limes for drinks. I put on a Fifties-ish black shirt dress (it had a nice hostess look and lifts up easily) and gave the servant boy my co-host and cruise director recruited for the evening instructions on working the door and serving drinks and waited for the guests to arrive. 

I don't really throw a lot of parties and when I do, they're usually revolved around watching something historically relevant on t.v. and the most work I do is ordering the pizza. But this time, I wanted it to be special. It was my first after all and I wanted to make a good impression.

It started off pretty much like any other cocktail party. Folks arrived alone or in pairs, with offerings of dip and wine. There was much catching up and conversation but I was eager to get things going or to at least remind people that this was indeed "that kind" of a party. Nate and I retreated into the bedroom for the inaugural fuck and I moaned a little louder than I usually do, hoping to inspire others to follow suit. I did catch a few people out of the corner of my eye wander in and out and by the time we returned to the living room there was a question of when things would get going.

"Well, now, I suppose."

Lights were dimmed, clothes came off and the party games began (which makes me think we should have had a piñata). One minute people are eating hummus and chips the next thing you know people are being fingered on the couch, making out in the kitchen, fucking on my floor and flogging people in front of my full-length mirror.

At one point I looked around at all of the bodies around me, shook my head and giggled to myself, "Oh my God, there are like... naked people... having sex... all over my apartment!"

Boys were giving blowjobs on my desk. My bed somehow withstood the weight of about 5 people fucking on it. Back in the foyer, a woman was bent over, an ice cube resting on her back while a young man flogged her. In the living room, people were still chatting, couples cuddling and a tall drink of water all in white serenaded me on a ukulele.

I don't think I could have asked for a better evening.

Eventually, came the inevitable echoes of "Where are my clothes?" and debates about subways and car services. I said goodbye to these lovely people who had graced my home with orgasms and turned off the music and the lights, satisfied that I had provided a much needed service in the world. My co-host and I laid in bed at the end of the evening, leaving the empty cups and condoms for the morning and compared notes on who did what to whom and congratulated ourselves on a job well done. Truth be told, I did not fuck as much as I probably would have as a guest, but I did have to work the door near the end and it was nice floating from room to room, seeing what mischief was afoot and making sure everyone was properly taken care of. 

The next day I would find a bra, two pairs of boxer briefs, a little velvet bag containing a bottle of lube, a pair of latex gloves and a condom, and a handsome lad sleeping on my couch.