Group Sex

The following was submitted upon request to The Celestial Teapot Magazine. They did some minor editing for the piece for brevity and space allocation. Here is the original as it was submitted:

Group Sex

Group sex is defined as sex with three or more people. That’s the technical definition, but for me personally, I’ve always separated threesomes, foursomes, and considered five or more to be group sex. And I separate them in my head because the dynamics between two partners and eight partners is drastic.

When you hear the words “group sex,” what pops into your mind? Are you disgusted? Intrigued? The concept of group sex is one of those that gives people an either/or reaction. Either they want to try it or the idea gives them the creeps. Not to mention it reminds conservatives of socialism! ICK!

Anecdotally, over the years I’ve asked my fellow men what they think about group sex and I was surprised to hear that it was homophobia that kept most men from trying it. They were freaked out that they might touch another man’s butt or worse, that a penis may touch them. ACK!

The chances that you will rub up against or be rubbed by another man’s butt are pretty high during group sex. But trust me when I say that during the heat of it, you won’t know the difference and won’t care one bit! You just need to get over your homophobia and understand that his butt is not touching you because he’s turned on by his butt touching you: it’s touching you as he’s trying to maneuver into position for some vagina action.

The most important thing about group sex (that you don’t see in porn) is communication between fellow participants. It’s important that everyone know which members are bisexual and bi-curious. It’s important to know who doesn’t like kissing or biting or tickling, etc. It’s important to know who has a preference for where you ejaculate or if we should put towels down because someone’s a gusher (do you know how long it takes to air dry a mattress!!!!). It’s also important to know who is on birth control, “vas safe,” etc. These things are important and help build trust among the participants.

Group sex comes in many flavors and styles and may not really match that fantasy image you have in your head. Some group sex is nothing more than partner swapping on the same bed. Some group sex is a mass of intertwined limbs: writhing and wiggling like the head of Cthulhu (or Davy Jones’ head from Pirates of the Caribbean if everyone’s sweaty and lubed up). And of course group sex doesn’t have to be hetero: all male group sex or all female group sex happens. And group sex for every type of sexuality happens. No matter the sexuality involved: group sex should always have one thing in common: CONSENT!

Over the years I have had some great group sex. I have had awkward group sex. I have had group sex that I felt I needed a bleach bath afterward. I really don’t recommend that: I mean the nasty group sex, not the bleach bath.

The majority of my group sex occurred when my ex-wife and I were swingers. Swinging added a whole new layer of dynamics and rules to deal with, but that’s a story for another time. In most cases, the group sex would start with everyone on the same bed and arms and legs everywhere, but within ten minutes, the group had separated into pairs: with one man and women concentrating on each other. I was always intrigued by that aspect of human sexuality: essentially turning group sex into mating pairs. Of course every now and then a hand would reach over and grope a body part of the couple next to them. Was that the groper remembering that this was supposed to be group sex or was it a reassurance to the other person; the groper letting the groped know they existed on the same bed?

I was never satisfied with the unconscious pairing that took place. I wanted to pay attention to all the women who were participating. I wanted to taste each of their vaginas. I wanted to give each of them pleasure. Group sex that worked that way was rare and in some cases, I had to be like a conductor. It always struck me as funny how willing people were to take direction during group sex. I was the conductor leading a symphony composed only of skin flutes and vagiolins. Sometimes that would mean I would be left out while conducting, only able to play my instrument every once in a while, but that was okay because I was helping others have pleasure.

One thing to remember during group sex is to not let the group dictate to the individual. Don’t pressure anyone into doing something they are not comfortable with. The swinging community had rules to protect the individual: no drinking or drugs allows (because it lowers inhibitions and we want an honest yes, not a drug-induced yes), no pressuring anyone, no means no with no questions asked or no offense taken. If everyone is conscious of this, then enforcement is easy and no one will be taken advantage of, harmed, or have something done to them without consent. Group sex should be fun, so don’t turn it into something harmful or vile.

Another thing to consider is the male to female ration involved. While ten men and two women having sex together is technically group sex, it’s really a gang-bang. Most people don’t envision a gang-bang when they think of group sex. To be honest, most men envision one man and ten women, but most men are delusional about their sexual prowess.

One thing that you need to do is put a reality check on the fantasy image you have in your head about group sex. The chances of you having group sex with a bunch of hot college coeds is about the same as getting hit by lighting three times in a single day. Sure it happens… but it isn’t going to happen to you!

Group sex will involve all body types and shapes. It may even involve drastic age differences. I was involved in a group sex session where the youngest person was 22 (my ex-wife) and the oldest person was 67. There were men and women in their thirties, forties, and fifties involved in that skin pile. So if you are a shallow person, then stick to the shallow water. But if you realize that all body shapes and sizes can be sexy and that sex is fun regardless of shape or size (or age of the adult), then dive on into the deep end and leave your floaties at home!

BWAHAHA: 10/19 – 10/25

BWAHAHA (Blair’s Week Attempts at Haha’s) 10/19 – 10/25: Getting closer to Halloween when all the kids empty into the streets to take candy from a stranger: you know, something we tell our kids not to do the rest of the year. Around my house there is no trick-or-treating. My area has been taken over by Trunk-Or-Treat, the Christian answer to the Satan’s holiday. I find that more dangerous than taking candy from a stranger… but that’s just me.

10/19

I should put this sign on the front door of my house.

I’ve decided that dating is a lot like buying electronic devices.

Hot chocolate, French Vanilla creamer, and walnut brownie milkshake. Just because.

10/20

If Republicans want regulations on the vagina, then shouldn’t they put the EPA in charge of it?

10/21

I’m going to open up an automobile repair shop and call it The Carmacy.

To fuck conspiracy theorists, I’m going to open up a pharmacy and call it Big Pharma-C.

When going up a hill, there’s this thing called gravity you have to overcome: SO PUSH THE ACCELERATOR!!!!

If you’re 80 and doing 45 in a 65 and scared by the cars passing you: you shouldn’t be driving.

If you stop 100 feet short of the white line at a red light: you have a depth perception problem and shouldn’t be driving.

You really shouldn’t stand behind me. I’ve been eating chorizo & huevos for three days straight.

Necrophilia: the desire to have sex with a Republican.

Because someone challenged me to do it. Oh yeah, MS Paint skills… still got ’em! LOL

And here is why that picture happened:

Blair Scott: “Although, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen a shrimp’s head.”
Are we still talking about food or sex now?

JS: LMAO food!

Blair Scott: Thread derailment successful.
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!
Take that G W Bush!

JS: bwahahaha
And unlike his, yours actually was accomplished! Good job!

Blair Scott: Now I just need a picture of me on a flight deck with my little shrimp head.

JS: ROTFLMAO!!! You could always use photoshop for that!
Go do it now. I wanna see it!!

“Crime of Passion” sounds like something your Dominatrix would accuse you of before spanking your ass.

10/22

Gotta stop playing so much #GTA, it’s affecting my real life! At least I have car and home owner’s insurance! http://fb.me/2htG6irAm

My Internet is down! Nooooooooooooooo!!! This is how Zombiepocalypse starts.

Oooh, she’s a real redhead. Oh shit, did I just say that out loud?

Maybe the ACA lines wouldn’t be as busy if FOX reporters would stop calling it to test it.

Satan is just a horn in my side.

Gotta go to bed. I’m head-bobbing at my keyboard. The last time I did that I woke up with QWERTY on my cheek.

10/23

That helicopter was flying low enough that it shook my house. Thanks Obama!

Pepper Jack cheese in chili is awesome, but it does kinda make the chili look like vomit. Bon appétit!

Church in Alabama to raise 23-story cross. Six months from now we’ll all be speaking different languages again…. http://fb.me/1LIXLpplG

I know more atheists who converted to theism for a girlfriend than theology. Vagina: more powerful than gods.

I’d be more impressed with the KKK if they didn’t wear hoods. If you’re going to be a bigot, own up to that shit!

The firing range says I can’t use targets that depict humans. I guess I wasted that money on Miley Cyrus posters.

Agree to have sex with an entire up-and-coming band and #seetheworld for free!

I have my Be Secular shirt and Reason Rally hoodie on. I’m seculayered!

I keep hearing people talk about the plutocracy… but how is that possible since Pluto’s not a planet anymore?

Aimed for the trashcan, hit the side. Now there’s blueberry lemonade all over my kitchen floor. Thanks Obama!

10/24

I hereby pause the Internet for 8 hours while I sleep. That is all.

You know your sex life is bad when you have to give a Roofie to a blowup doll.

Critical Eye Podcast E039: Halloween Show with comedy guests Emery Emery, Mike Lee, and Pat O’Dude!

10/25

I’ve learned over the years that most cases of “FUCK YOU!” translate as, “I DOTH PROTEST TOO MUCH!” Exceptions granted.

Sign I created for the Halloween Party.

Just sayin’…

So many parties…

100 Cigarettes Walk Into A Bar…

My aunt died in a ferocious penguin attack. That’s why I don’t watch Batman.

A prostitute asked me if I wanted to open Pandora’s Box. I was confused until she told me her name was Pandora.

As we drew closer I looked deep into the mosaic of your eyes. As they came into focus I realized I was looking at different colors of bullshit.

Relaxing to some Incubite! Well, maybe relaxing is the wrong word. Let’s just say my head’s flinging all over the place.

100 Cigarettes Walk Into A Bar…

So an online argument begins about smoking. It’s getting super heated. Names are being thrown around. Personal attacks combined with study and counter-study. The anger in the thread is blatant. So I decided to troll the thread with cigarette jokes. In Improv there is a game called “100.” You take any object and insert it into “100 [insert object here] walk into a bar…” The trick is to come up with as many as possible until you just can’t come up with any more. In Improv, they don’t have to be funny – the trick is to just be able to come up with something, anything, quickly and on the spot.

So here are my 100 cigarette jokes that I threw on the thread:

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “Is it because we have really hot butts?”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “But we filter everything we say!”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “Quit staring at my hot ash!”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “But we’re 100’s!”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “Oh, come on! We just got rolled into town!”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “Don’t make us separate into packs!”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “You’re just blowing smoke up my ass, right?”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “We’ll just pack up and leave.”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “Man, I’ve been carton these guys around all day!”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “Oh, this isn’t the Cough Inn?”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “Who do you think you are to pipe up?”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “So you’re just going to put us out?”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bar tender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “You’re an ashist!”

100 cigarettes walk into a bar. The first one walks up to the bar tender and orders a drink. The bartender says, “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.” So the cigarette says, “Whatever you ashole!”

UPDATE 10/25 @ 1554 CST: A fellow comedian pointed out that his Improv group does “101” and another emailed me to say they do “1,001.” Seems the number varies for different groups, and that’s cool, because the number is almost arbitrary and irrelevant. And I say almost because it can’t be just “1.” Making it two or more opens the jokes possible to groups and couples and multiples: giving the Improver a lot more flexibility in getting those brain juices flowing!

BWAHAHA: 10/12 – 10/18

BWAHAHA (Blair’s Week Attempts at Haha’s) 10/12 – 10/18: It’s hard to be funny when you’re in the ER suffering from Acute Cholecystitis. They ruled out gall stones and now suspect that my gall bladder has just stopped functioning. Everyone says I won’t miss it, but can they really say that without knowing the relationship I have with my gall bladder? What am I going to do on Valentine’s Day now?!?!?! Then I get out of the hospital and my friends spring a surprise wedding on me. Oh gee, thanks for reminding me about my relationship with my gall bladder! Bladder, blabber, blather!

10/13

Scientia, Liberate Tute Me Ex Inferis. Gratias Agimus Tibi.

I either fall for fool’s gold or try to get the platinum I can’t afford. Ah, the joys of being single.

10/14

So I took the “Who Are You In Star Trek” quiz and Captain Kirk returned as the answer. It said I was “over the top!” CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT FUCKING MOTHERFUCKING STUPID SHIT?!?!?!?! Fine, you wanna find out who you’re like, go ahead and take the fucking stupid lying quiz!  Oh wait, they said I was a natural leader, well garsh, that was awfully sweet of them!

Shouldn’t Columbus Day be Vespucci Day? You know, after the guy America is named after: Amerigo Vespucci.

Welcome to the United States of Columbia… after Chris Columbus. Wait… it’s the Americas, after Amerigo Vespucci. Umm….

Still single. Thanks Obama!

I listen to music loud in my car. Drivers next to me look irritated, then smile as they think, “At least it’s not rap.”

10/15

The should replace physical torture that’s something more effective… THIS:

Ever notice that the people who demand people “speak English” are ones who can’t?

Wait, you mean we’re not named America after Leif Americson?

It’s hard to be metal when playing a keyboard.

I bank at Redstone Federal Credit Union here in Huntsville, Alabama. And they had this on their front page. Because people are stupid and think that because they have the word Federal in their name, that the bank will be closed. UGH! It irks me even more that they’re so polite about it. I would have put, “Yes, you fucking morons, we’re open – because we’re your fucking credit union and not a government entity! So stop fucking calling customer service and asking you dolts!” Then again, I’m an ass.

As an atheist, I’m in awe and wonder at the asininity of #Oprah.

10/16

My #debtceiling is two inches above the ground.

10/17

That weird moment when you’re alone in the house and your toilet flushes on its own.

Armored car at the bank, and I’m like, “I could take that!” Then I remembered I wasn’t at home playing GTA5.

Dating & Electronics

I’ve decided that dating is a lot like buying electronic devices. I know that seems like a weird comparison, but let’s look at how this pans out:

1. Sometimes an electronic is bad right out of the box.

2. Often times you get sucked in by the bells and whistles only to realize after buying it that it’s a cheap piece of plastic crap.

3. You often buy the cheapest one and look online for the best deals. You’re usually disappointed, but you keep going back to that weird auction site anyway. Because hey, you just might win the lottery and actually get a good product off there one day!

4. You realize quickly that refurbished is just a fancy way of saying, “The previous owner used and abused this product.”

5. You’re always impressed with your new electronic, but after awhile that newness wears off and you want the latest model.

6. If you’re lucky, you’ll stumble upon an electronic that’s built to last for a lifetime. Or at least until the seven year itch.

Keep buying. Sooner or later you’ll find that perfect electronic device. Or not.