As you know from my blog I start climbing the walls when I go without sex for too long, so I commiserate with you. Life aint fair sometimes! I think instead of Medic-Alert bracelets we should all put on DTF bracelets ('Down To Fuck')whenever we need some attention, and that way if we see a fellow sufferer out in public who we think we can help....and then this turned up on my Facebook feed. It's an absolutely fascinating story by Vice about something happening in Australia that sounds right up my alley. If this was happening locally I'd seriously be considering it - in fact I was initially thinking "how long is a flight to Melbourne?" because I find it that intriguing.
So what are those Aussies up to? They're having sex parties disguised as 'Workshops'!! Yup, you turn up and half the room are 'sex workers' and the other half are 'clients' and you exchange sex for Monopoly Money. As an attendee you can feel like you are 'learning' and 'empowering' yourself, with none of the trepidation or anxiety you might feel from attending a neighborhood sex party (which is what has always held me back).
"I am covering a "Bordello Workshop", part of Australia's growing scene of sex-oriented events aiming to both liberate and educate. Some of the classes are spiritual and meditative, others involve role play, while some—like this one—are more practical ventures involving real sex acts.
According to the promotional material, participants can chose to be either clients or service providers. There is a madam, and lots of "hot and sexy play," with the overall aim to reflect on our fantasies and assumptions about sex work and "appreciate the complexities in terms of gender differences, class, the exchange economy and empowerment."
The workshop uses monopoly money, and participants are encouraged to come in "alluring" costume. There are approximately 50 people here tonight, in various stages of undress. There are blow-up mattresses, couches, and a small stage in the corner lined with whips. As the class begins, the workshop's director introduces himself. This class will explore the social nuances of sex work, he announces, by replicating its structures within these warehouse walls..."Honestly, I think this is such a brilliant fucking idea (pun intended)!! Who wants to go to a neighborhood Swingers party where you might be rejected and 'left on the shelf'? Who wants to go to a sex party and have their self esteem crushed by not being able to score? Besides, most neighborhood sex parties don't welcome overweight middle aged single men - because if they did they'd be over run by them. Because sadly overweight middle aged men are not top of the list of fantasy lovers for most women - since most of them can have that at home!
Although technically I'm not a single man, my wife would not attend a Swingers Night or Sex Party so effectively I'm barred from these types of events. I gather some Swingers/Sex parties do allow older/single men in, but usually only if they are hung like donkeys and/or have unique skills or talents in matters sexual. Sadly my cock size is 'Average' and I only have my wife to vouch for my oral skills, and as I just said she won't go to these types of places.
Which is why I think this Aussie workshop is such a great idea.
I have in recent months second guessed myself about how good I actually am at sex/oral, since I've been searching for reasons as to why our sex life has waned so much. As in: "maybe I'm not as good at sex/oral as I think I am, and my wife has only been trying not to hurt my feelings for all these years?" Witness Sex in a tent when this happened during cunnilingus:
She asked why would I find the spot and then move from the spot, telling me that once she tells me I've found the spot I need to stay on the fucking spot! She then proceeded to ask me if I actually knew where the spot was.
This was very upsetting (to me) because...
I settle into a blow-up couch by myself, observing as clients approach Madame Juliette to bargain for services. The first to do so is a man in his 60s; he announces that he would like two women to pleasure him. Two of the "workers" happily volunteer themselves for the task. Next, a young woman confidently strides forward and requests two men. She walks away delightedly with two of the (admittedly more strapping) male members of the group.
As the pile of Monopoly cash accumulates in the brim of Madam Juliette's corset, the room rapidly becomes a medley of various sexual acts. To my left, two men in leather harnesses smack one another with paddles. To my right, a woman clad in a red satin robe rides a large man in a lace blouse like a pony.
It's not long before people stop approaching the stage, and the dissolution of James's vision becomes clear. People are simply joining the party now, so to speak, without regard for the Monopoly cash. On the sofa beside us, two men have taken to aiding the process of a rather loud and aggressive blowjob by holding the woman's hair and spanking her.
What strikes me at this moment is how normal this scene has become; how quickly social norms can readjust in the human brain. I step over the ankles of a couple fucking to retrieve my phone and check my texts.
At my feet is a blow-up mattress, on which lie two groups of people: one group consists of a woman seated upright, austerely directing a man through the process of fingering her. To her left, another woman ferociously rides the body of an older man, who lurches around in ecstasy.I dunno what you're getting from this story, but for me the key words I keep seeing repeated are Old Man. If old men like me can get laid then I'm all in! (So don't spoil it by telling me I'm only seeing what I want to see - ha!)