Alpha Female E-Book

Nalini Narayan

• Herausgeber: e-galáxia
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 313

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Nalini Narayan presents Alpha Female, a collection of stories that ventures beyond the conventional boundaries of contemporary literature. Raised in Brazil within an Indian family, Narayan infuses her narratives with a rich cultural tapestry, set against the vibrant backdrop of Brazilian life.  With a progressive lens and intricately woven prose, Narayan delves into the complexities of human sexuality while offering incisive commentary on social issues. Her writing, rich in humor and keen observations, immerses readers in a compelling literary journey.  Challenging taboos and exploring daring themes, Narayan crafts a work that not only captivates with its provocative nature but also resonates deeply with its relevance in today's global literary discourse.     

Leseprobe

Nalini Narayan

ALPHA FEMALE

The true stories of my orgies

Table of Contents

Some preliminary words

Prologue

Orgy

Uptown girl

Lethargy

Literature

Doppelgänger

My first orgy

Serpentnight

The Second Orgy

Crazy Loves

Anarchy

Nature

Pornography

Bdsm

Contemplation

Opus 8

Ecclesiastes

Gang Bang

Nymphomaniac

New Revelry

The Magic Flute Player

Meet Market

The Professor

Random Revelry

Lesbos

L’anarchie Est La Plus Haute Expression De L’ordre

Memories From Amsterdam

Decipher Me Or I’ll Devour You

A Letter To My Friends

Hairy

Masquerade (Vestiges Of The Day)

A Blooming Anus

The Witch

Myth

Insatiable

Cock Fights Cock

The Party Of The 300

Van Gogh

Rembrandt

Fleurs Du Mal

The Chauffeur

My Bossy Lady Friend

Ecclesiastes 2

Eros

The Cheater, Aka Rocket Queen

Clit Massage

Photography

The Hand And The Glove

Letter To A Young Poet

Sex Addicted

Microcosm/Macrocosm

Melancholy

Ecclesiastic Gastronomy

A Jewish Friend

An Organized Orgy

Birthday Party

Wild Girls

Sexual Records, Sexual Athletes

Androgyny

Abricó Beach

Monastery Of The Word

Micro (In)Cautionary Tales

Five Extra Micro Tales

Sometimes I Feel So Lonely

Motel

Fantasy

Some Words About The Feature Film Nymphomaniac

Dark Room

Letter To A Domesticated Ox

Amsterdam

Mardi Gras Orgy

Mardi Gras Orgy No. 2

Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs

Unconscious Rain

A Lost Paradise

A Poem

At The Mirror

Daimon

Dangerous Hearts

My Very Own Great American Romance

Lascivious Lips

Alexandre, The Great

Kissing Game, Oriental Style

Oxen

A Critical Eye

Faces

“Puro Êxtase”, The Webseries

“Amores Livres”, For Cable Tv

In The Realm Of Kink

Making Out

Brothel Literature

Pornland

Sex Sorority Or Let Us Burn All The Bras

An Odyssey In São Paulo

In The Elevator

Love And Sex

Feminist

Partner Swapping

A Phenomenal Yacht

Free Love

About The Author

Credits

“Let us pray that Lord have mercy of these coward square-minded people!”

Cazuza

To Alexandre

SOME PRELIMINARY WORDS

This is a coming of age book. Regardless of whether it mirrors or not readers’ life experiences, it is a diary that – along with some other literary works by different authors – aims to create further possibilities for a new era of greater freedom of speech and sexual equality. My romantic musings on the orgies and the sexual experiences that I’ve gone through are strictly personal. Even though I was, of course, influenced by all the other authors that dedicated themselves to this subject.

I keep to myself other aspects of my life that are not related to sex, such as reading preferences, traveling experiences, friendships, cultural exchanges and connections. This journal focuses on the group sex experiences, and on the way my body gets in touch with other bodies.

My wish is that readers trust my discerning intellectual abilities to the point that, when they least expect it, they see themselves immersed in the world of real-life orgies. There is no stylization of reality in this book. In order to experience so many pleasurable relationships, I have made an effort to surround myself with like-minded people throughout my whole life. And, according to the views of this group to which I belong to, the story of my life is full of experiences I should be proud of.

Everything that is written in this book may be seen as a connotation to a spiritual surrender. The world of anonymous sex is not for everyone; only those who are initiated into it are able to cope with the kind of risks involved. You need to possess a certain lightness in order to savor the nectar exuded by the serpent of the night.

The secret and the magic of these pages lie in the greater chemistry that may spring from my ideas being in touch with the readers’ consciousness – then, if any friction occurs, it will make way to the greater bliss. In conclusion, I quote from the poet John Keats: “Love is my religion.”

Nalini Narayan

PROLOGUE

Ever since I was a small child, I used to dream about numbers. I used to picture myself in situations of total freedom, as if everybody else – all the grown-ups, in particular – were robots with no free will commanded by a superior law made by some extraterrestrial authority. Everything in the awoken world seemed weird and too standardized to me, both in the way people acted and the things they spoke. No one seemed to aim for anything but commonsense aspirations. The discomfort of a dystopian society was the only possible reality presented to me. And I dreamt up about the impossible.

I wanted to transcend all limits. The desire of not even having to explain my apparently crazy choices to every tedious inquiry that came on the way of my highest life ideals was the only truth I wanted to reach for. I created a parallel world for myself and never shared any opinions I had about intimacy with my parents because, the way I saw things, the sharing of these things between parents and their children seemed indecent and promiscuous. I should protect my own privacy.

And, with this in mind, I initiated my sexual adventures. When I was eighteen years old, just before I was married, I used to make out with many of the girls who were my friends from school. I thought I would be a lesbian forever. My tomboy style created a perfect androgynous look, complete with leather vests, boots, ties and wearing my hair always up or cut really short. Even after I had moved in with my first boyfriend I insisted on the “rebel rock’n’roll teenage” look.

Both me and my then partner used to have polyamorous affairs alongside with our relationship. We lived in an apartment that had been a gift from our parents, and I was, for all that mattered, a decent housewife. Who would imagine that the sober young married lady kept busy organizing intimate little parties for her closest friends? And that, at these parties, there was plenty of cock swapping, booze and all kinds of drugs – although the sex was always our main goal, and not getting high. Our non-declared and maybe unconscious intention was to break all the taboos.

Once, we went to a cottage in the mountains where each of the women had to wait in their rooms for the entrance of different guys (the boyfriends or husbands of the others). The coming and going was simultaneous in all the rooms, the guys with their cocks already sticky with cum or having used up condoms hanging from them. With all the lights out, we had to guess who was who by the way they moved or smell, or by what we could deduce from their silhouettes. Having all the lights off and separate rooms were not deliberate decisions: it just never occurred to us at the time that we could be all together in the same room.

I did not have feminist aspirations nor wanted to prove that women can do as they please the same way as men do. I didn’t even feel like a proper woman, and had never identified myself with the feminine world. I was “one of the guys” when it came to partying, and never thought about seducing any of them. Seduction was an art reserved for movie starts on the screens or for the real life femme fatales. This stereotyped view would change over time, though, for the majority of men actually see the most fragile women as the most seductive ones.

When I met my second husband, I was still married to my ex and also in a relationship with my best friend and her boyfriend, who used to live together with the three of us. We were throwing a New Year’s party at our place and Alexandre, or Alê, quickly realized that we were a fourple, a couple made of four people. As it was the first time the two of us met, he and I were obviously a bit shy and fearful that the other guests would notice the instant connection the emerged between us. Alê, for his part, found all that freedom and our crazy lifestyle intriguing.

In spite of the cliches spread by the middle classes and their impoverished views on bourgeois love and all the restrictions they impose on sexual fabulations, me and Alexandre felt instantly drawn to each other. It didn’t take long for my relationship with the trio fall behind, as me and Alê started our private journey into the unknown. I was never averse to the idea of a monogamous relationship. I am in favor of everything, but we needed to find our true style as a couple. And ours would be a sleazy pathway. Now, once again protected from public scrutiny by the presence of a respectable husband, I was allowed to explore the world of orgies.

ORGY

I might describe my husband as a hunk, and also say the same about our male friends. But that would never be accurate if we consider the vast array of different things that women may find attractive in men. One thing is certain, though: all women want to be desired. They need to have their fiery passions satiated, when these passions truly exist. My goal was getting penetrated. Oral sex (both with men and other women) was something that I’ve had explored a lot in my previous pursuits. Now I aimed to surrender myself to the ripples of group sex. And this new sea was about to involve me in a kind of self-idolatry that would last for quite some time. Reaching the climax was my objective. And this would be only the beginning of a new era of transcendent trips and physical exhaustion.

As I enrolled in acting schools, I had the opportunity to meet a few artists, but the simple fact of living between the major cities of Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo granted me the freedom and discretion I needed for my out-of-marriage sex explorations. I participated in my first group experience thanks to the invitation of a businessman friend. He had made a lot of money, and used to spend it going to sex clubs, Thai massage parlors, choking fetish sessions, luxury private parties and hiring the services of high-end whores.

Who were the usual guests at these wild parties? Well, I would never be able to remember their faces. Everybody was a “nobody”. Obviously, I made sure that I always had friends that accompanied me tho these events, because the rules were not always clear. We assumed that the people who were there would respect other guests’ choices. But, on the other side, it wouldn’t make sense to have a discriminating attitude in a situation like that. The interesting thing about orgies is that all bodies may be accepted as they are on their pursuit for new and distinct sensations.

After I had sex with my friend who hosted the party, I wandered around the mansion watching other couples. There were men fucking women as they stood against walls or were down on their fours, indistinct noises, smell of lubricant gel and lotion in the air. Some guy fucked me in the toilet, and I never knew who exactly he was. He was kind, didn’t do any rough moves, and made it sure to pick up the used condoms from the bidet after we were done. The old architecture of the place contrasted with our modern precautions about Aids. Sexually transmitted diseases always existed, but this specific one haunted people to the point of changing their sexual behavior – although I have seen some unprotected action.

Shy people are more prone to like this kind of event. No faces are scrutinized, no privacy is trespassed. I have memories of myself spread legged over a pool table. Or throwing myself naked along with a dozen other people into a transparent pool. Or fucking in the middle of a forest preserve area for the mere exhibitionism of it. With other people passing by, pretending they weren’t seeing us. Or, around this same time, I remember once being caught by the Police when I was fucking with Alexandre inside the car, and that the cops ended up letting us go because we weren’t really all naked the moment they found us.

The risk of violent mishaps that may occur when you make libertarian choices always worried me. And that’s why I made sure I had trustworthy male friends by my side at all times. Men respect other men. The immediate post-orgy sensation is similar to the way one feels after taking strong narcotics: your body seems lighter, the colors look brighter, the sunlight stings your eyes and your muscles feel toned and streamlined. On the day after it, the lethargy is overwhelming. It is a sense of fatigue that grabs the whole of your soul.

UPTOWN GIRL

The king of the scene was Guga, my poet friend from a family well-known in town. We had met in Amsterdam, where there had been opportunities to share our views on sex, friendship, cannabis, literature, traveling, music, the tarot and family. He was an enthusiast of all these themes. And I was too, except for the herb part (although I am totally pro-legalization) and for my own family, which, on my mother’s side, is basically made of right-wing politicians.

Back to Brazil, we kept in touch, and occasionally he accepted my invitations to go to unusual venues at obscure parts of the town just to make a statement of iconoclasm. In those poor neighborhoods, we met our partners in cause. And there I dedicated myself to exercising anonymous sex. Sometimes all it took was to pick up the phone and order a pizza. Then, as we opened the door, the delivery guy got pulled into our little scene as he ran into me being fucked from behind by Guga.

Occasionally, we liked to offer little gifts to strangers. Orchestrating those unexpected rendezvous was like trying some radical sport. Me and Guga used to always get really anxious as we counted the seconds for our unknowing guests to arrive and surprise us in the act. We made a point to behave naturally, and, although the guys probably found the situation weird at first, they usually played along. When it comes to sex, no one questions or refuses any offer, at least not when they are faced with the explicit and unexpected scene of a man screwing a woman out in the open. Moral pains may burden those who are still green in this subject and can get fearful of accusations or reprehension from society.

I think that Guga was right when he told me that our “pro-sex activism” was a way to enforce a “cosmopolitan sexual universalism”. We were never Brazilian nationalists, and we are both fond of the notion that there’s only one humanity and no person should be discriminated because of their skin color, gender, social status or the country they were born in. The fallacious notion of nationality is loaded with discrimination and rejection. True libertarians don’t fall into the stupid traps of boastful nationalism and of weapons that serve only to fuel wars between peoples. Since we would never be able to fix all the problems of the world, me and Guga decided to turn our own lives into works of art.

Alê also hung out with other women. As a couple, we went together to some wild parties whenever friends invited us. The intellectual circles are known for the open-mindedness of the people who are part of them. The kind of mentality that equals sex with degradation, reinforced by old fashioned religious models, nowadays exists only as an escapist tool for those who are too scared to surrender themselves to other people. It is all a plan made by the “good decent people”. One thing that bothers me is to see how young couples give into the poor semblance of a sex life they usually settle into, often without even knowing why they are doing that. Women that have never reached climax from penetration and keep accepting being penetrated just to receive their regular dose of sperm. Or men who romanticize relationships where there never been any true chemistry. And the list goes on and on...

Guga used to throw himself bravely into intercourse, waving his big cock around without any modesty. His slightly protruding belly created a perfect fit for our missionary position. He used to read me verses of bizarre poems he wrote under the sound of the waves crashing outside. The stigma of discrimination never scared us, for we felt like a pair of superheroes engaged in the fight of good against the malaise of civilization as a whole!

The first time I had sex with Guga was disastrous. He was a lame fuck, with his robotic moves trying to imitate what he saw in porn movies. In time things started to get better, as he proved to be a willing pupil of the arts of fucking. My friend Liz participated in our lessons every once in a while, and she and Guga ended up being a couple. Liz, who had been an out dyke in her teen years, had turned into liking being with guys and was then the lover of a Brazilian Pop Music star singer who had hit the headlines on account of the scandal around an alleged threesome involving himself, his ex-wife and their best female friend. Under the excuse of needing to preserve his public image, the singer had recently ditched Liz, who was moping about. But this affair with a star was precisely what made Guga crazy about her, for he saw Liz as a means of being somehow in touch with his great music idol. Liz, for her part, decided to drown her sorrows by throwing herself into the poet’s chubby arms – and also into mine. And the two of us devoted all the passion of our well-raised-rich-Uptown-kids youth to console the poor girl.

Without Liz noticing it, Guga secretly found ways for just the two of us to meet on the side, and, whenever we were together, he and I devoted endless hours to improving our sexual abilities. He lavished himself languidly over my pubis, then we sucked on each other’s sexes until we reached the orgasm simultaneously. After that, he thrust his throbbing insatiable cock into me. And I got down on my fours and perked my ass up for him to take me from behind and make my legs tremble.

Sometimes, I used to meet Guga right after having sex with Alê. He said to me that his biggest dream was getting to be the first to have me. The trio we formed when Liz was with at the parties intrigued all the other guests. She thought that me and Guga only were together when the three of us went out. Sometimes, we engaged in triple kisses in public just to shock other people. Once, there was this cousin of Guga’s who left a soiree after saying that our little revelry “grossed him out”.

LETHARGY

My intention always was to become some kind of idol, or, better yet, a true sex icon – and maybe this was due to the fact that I had never considered myself particularly sexy. Being naked, as weird as it may sound, felt more comfortable to me than wearing clothes of any kind. The plain simple nudity, without affectation or embellishment. Childhood, or the longing to be like a child again and seeing no problem in touching strangers’ bodies, was always with me. People have lots of taboos when it comes to sexuality. It may seem that loving without feeling jealousy is an impossible aspiration. I never agreed with that. Even though I felt jealous of my husband, I believed that I could be dispassionate enough to share him with other women. It worked like a kind of a fetishistic mental tease, thinking about these things. My husband is an attractive man.

I am a shy person, and I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of being bound to anybody else. The amount of time and exposure required in flirting always seemed too intrusive, and I found it more honest and comfortable stepping up to the sex part right away than having to cajole men who approached me. And I don’t agree with people who opt for more formal preambles. Organizing and ordering things are for those who don’t lead lives full of possibilities.

Maybe this is why being around gay men during my college years made me so elated. Gay men surrender themselves to sex with more vigor, or at least this was how things worked back in the College of Letters. When it came to Philosophy majors, the guys’ sexual orientation was not that easy to figure out at first site – they were basically divided between those who devoted themselves to build muscles and the nerdy types. I think that all philosophers see themselves as being superior to the common crowds, in a certain way. Conforming sheep will be conforming sheep, after all. But we thirsted for freedom, and we were bold enough to throw ourselves into adventures all around town. Getting wasted at bars, hanging out at seedy forró parties or at the whore joints all the students knew the directions to, and also going to swing clubs.

The lethargy of Rio’s beaches, the lack of stamina to decide what we would do with the rest of our lives, the sea, the swinging hammocks, my friends, everything seemed to keep me stagnant within our little tropical paradise. It was like a perfect scene out of some soap opera: a bunch of long-haired youngsters wandering by the sea, lighting up joint after joint, getting into the water at night with their clothes on.

LITERATURE

I was sixteen years old when I first entered the world of Literature. I enrolled myself in writing workshops, had private classes, attended free courses. My mother thought this could be good for me, and I kind of agreed with her when I thought that writing was an activity that went well with introvert personalities like mine. I identified myself as being an observant contemplative, a daydreaming kind of person, and I thought that becoming a writer could be an adequate career choice.

Numbers had a strong presence in our life as a family, as everyone else pursued careers in hard sciences such as Physics, Mathematics or Engineering. I was the only one who took interest in Literature. Writing allowed me to fly away from life’s sorrows, as I explored my literary abilities. But the numbers kept running after me whenever I managed to relax and let my unconscious mind emerge. The staggering numbers of featureless faces I saw in my dreams and which startled me out of sleep.

My childhood habit of counting sheep to sleep was soon replaced by counting men and women from all nationalities and races. And the thing was they somehow became indistinguishable from one another. I felt that I was fated to be unique in the crowd.

As we grow up, we understand that the world is made of different cultures and religions. Living in Brazil with my Indian family, I had gone trough the experience of being a representation of otherness. Having been deemed as the “exotic one” was something that never pleased me. Things are not easy when you keep being seen as the image of everything that is different. But at the Tropics “everything gets turned into samba music”, as they say. Our family ended up mixing with the locals, which did a lot of good to my joyful personality.

I knew that the great movie starts got to have society’s permission to live memorable love stories, and that they were always involved with many different lovers at once. But would I be able to be involved in relationships with more than one man at the same time? Would women ever let themselves be wooed by me? These kinds of questions swirled inside my teenage mind. I could already picture myself as a rock star on a yacht, surrounded with topless girls and handsome guys who were all in love with me. All my life would have to be nothing but glamorous, I would never settle for less than that.

Being a funny person spared me confrontations and granted the possibility of having a neurosis-free take on sexuality, with no taboos. As I did not have to overcome any kind of religious upbringing, and being a radical free thinker myself, it didn’t take me long to become exactly the person that I wanted to be, and not what people expected from me. This autonomous attitude led me to strengthen the bonds with some male and female friends to the point of developing actual physical intimacy with many of them. To me, it wasn’t a problem that our connection had a sexual dimension to it. I never resented any of these friends, nor I expected I would marry them or anything like it.

Literature became my greatest religion, as it was introduced to me and cultivated by my mother. My father kept himself apart of these “women’s conversations”, and we were free to talk about her favorite novels and stories. In time, I realized that just reading about things wasn’t enough; I should live myself a rich interesting life.

I went to a Catholic school, and this granted me the same religious information that all Brazilians get. It seemed to me that the idea of sanctity was attached to wondrous episodes such as Virgin Mary giving birth to the son of God, all the miracles that Jesus performed, God himself being a very palpable presence in biblical stories. Faith is ridden with mysteries.

At some point, I fantasized about joining the Church as a nun. Together with a friend, I used to daydream about a life of celibacy and dedication to God’s highest designs. We would pray all day long, and spend our lives working for charity or secluded in cloisters. My friend now is married, with two daughters. I have chosen a different path.

As my precursor Catherine Millet said, the idea of a life of celibacy seemed as noble as a life of sin. It felt as if all our choices were part of the different manifestations of God.

Eroticism was not one of my favorite literary genres. In any case, I soon realized that having knowledge makes one feel more secure and interesting, and saves you from having to expose yourself in explicit seduction games. When it comes to cultural topics, I feel at ease to express myself. Being well-read and cultured lead me to meet men who were more and more unusual and original in their attitudes, and also in their way of dealing with love. It went to the point that we nicknamed our collective explorations of the details of human anatomy as “study groups”.

DOPPELGÄNGER

There was a pair of twin brothers who were my friends since I was little, and being with them made me feel like I was living inside some kind of an art film where anything was possible. Their doubled image – multiplied lots of times by the mirror hanging from their bedroom’s wall – ingrained the boys’ faces and bodies in my memory. And there were also the many stories about fooled girlfriends and me flirting with them both. Then, one day, I gathered all my sinful intentions and went to visit them, wanting to be with both at the same time.

The two of them were blond and had their muscles toned by the practice of snowboarding, and they kind of reminded me of Dolph Lundgreen, the actor. Their sculpted bodies were like a pair of classical Greek statues brought to life. I used to call them the “Snowbrothers”. By this time, I had already begun to explore the masculine world, and my love affairs with girls had been put aside.

The twins created an eternal conflict between my Apollinian and my Dionysian personae: I digged them one minute, only to find them a pair of boring troglodytes in the next. But their duplicated image instigated my imagination, as if they represented two opposite sides of the same man, and it made me think of our liaison as something interesting, a bit magical, even. This magic quality of twins was not always deemed as something beautiful, but often seen as a sign of witchcraft. An evil spell. Devil’s work.

From my part, I had some trouble seeing one of them as being a counterpoint to the other. And I hadn’t decided yet which one would be easier to corrupt (in case they would be corruptible at all). What would be the fate of our story?

My kinky attitude, detached of any pact of “sentimental truth”, led me to make love declarations to both of the twins (only at the exact moment of the climax). I whispered their names at their ears in bed and exaggerated orgasm reactions. And they, indeed, fell for my every trick. Or was I the one being tricked?

I hopped from one bed to the other. Ours was not one of those romantic, sugary-sweet stories; it was more to the friends-with-benefits side of things, with a Jules et Jim atmosphere to it. The twins used to laugh over and over at my girlish reaction of amazement whenever I had multiple orgasms. How I had underestimated these guys! Not that I knew my body that well at the time. Maybe they didn’t know themselves either, but the chemistry between us was huge. At the beginning, I had sex with one at a time, but I dreamt of the day that we would be together, the three of us.

We used to go to the beach on the weekends, The twins decided to give surf a go, as the natural born athletes they were. They liked all kinds of sports and enjoyed being in Nature. And I was always with them. As time went by, my sensual expectations skyrocketed.

And, finally, the day arrived: the twins were more and more into me! Knockout. When we went to bed, right afterwards, they gazed at me through their blond hair falling over their faces, the lavender scent of their skin filling the air. As if in a trance, I rubbed their cocks one against the other and they let me do it, then I sucked on them until I had my lips swollen.

The twins were non-stop fuckers. They held my body up high and found the way to my pussy with their hard dicks, almost as if we were at weightlifting session at the gym. They enjoyed the showoff.

My curiosity about how our bodies would respond, apart from the simple fact that sex is an excellent way to spend one’s free time, led me to be with tem them again and again. I suspected that the twins didn’t think like me, and that they might even devalue the little experiment we were doing. This would be a trait of unnecessary moralism, but I am a nice open-minded person and decided to give them a chance. I’d seen folks change their opinions and rethink their values. Why wouldn’t those two? Or maybe all my suspicions were unfounded, and they never had any negative judgments about me.

The twins’ sex moves were spectacular. There are some positions that work better on our imagination than in real life sex. But, although we had some trouble finding the right fit, I’ve managed to have my pussy taken by one of the brothers as the other one fucked me from behind. On the outside, one’s balls banged against the other’s. Incest alert?

MY FIRST ORGY

I had agreed with a friend of mine from São Paulo, Ulysses, that we’d go together to his newest catch’s house. Cleo was an elegant socialite, and she had invited us both to her sexy party at an upscale part of the city. I’d decided to wear a transparent overall with my fishnet onesie, complete with a bright moss green bikini under it.

When we arrived there, around midnight, there were security guards trying to organize a long line of guests as they approached the marble steps that gave access to a lobby from which bunny clad girl receptionists led us to the main room.

Ulysses took one of the masks available for the guests, and I left my overall and all my clothes with a circumspect butler, that chaperoned us both naked to other parts of the mansion. Inside the bedrooms, people fucked as if there was no tomorrow.

We joined a group of making-out guests. I saw myself surrounded by voluptuous caressing hands and mouths. A man fondled me from behind, fidgeting with my pussy before gently inserting his fingers into my anus. When I was ready, I let another guy fuck me while two other women he had just finished with ran their hands over my whole body. After that, the three of them went down on me, their tongues taking turns on my hard, about-to-come clit. Suddenly, I felt one of them rimming my ass. And surrendered myself to the moment.

At some point, a piercing tune filled the air. Someone was playing parts of a symphony on a piano, I could recognize the notes but wouldn’t remember which piece they were from.

All I saw around me were dicks and cocks, pussies, asses and sweaty skin, everybody rubbing against each other. There was this magnetic ecstatic wave that connected us all, creating a single faceless orgiastic human mass. Like a rock concert! We had abandoned ourselves in paradise. Naked children, free of all guilt and all religion.

A flood of cum cascaded down on me. I closed my eyes. A guy nearby was telling a woman that he was going to “fuck her in the ass and make her taste his dick afterwards”. I traveled through faraway stellar realms with my eyes shut tight. Cosmic orgasms, I was a spaceship set adrift. Women around me were down on her fours and I could her the slap of the men’s thighs thrusting against their bums.

After that, I had sex with Ulysses while a bunch of vampire women sucked on his neck, his wrists, his dick. We kissed as the vampires fondled him until they made him really hard. Then, I climbed onto him, and he slid slowly into my pussy.

I surrendered myself to the lethargic dance, immersed in that unreal aphrodisiac scene. Bills of cash rained gently on us, in slow motion. The party organizers had arranged for the fake money to be stored somewhere on the ceiling, on a compartment that opened itself above our heads. No one figured out exactly how it worked, but this wasn’t a problem: we just enjoyed the fetish.

I reveled myself with cash all over my body, rolled over the floor, it was really crazy. The explosive mix of sex and money was my greatest taboo. And there I was, naked, being caressed by a mountain of cash that fell all over me. Ulysses laughed out loud. Our hostess, Cleo, paraded her slim silhouette around, escorted by a blonde geisha.

I felt like a one billion dollar girl! Which was very unusual for a person who used to hate even thinking about anything related to money. But, maybe in that playful context, with nothing being trully sold or bought, I felt comfortable enough to indulge my fantasies.

A chubby guy threw himself on me, and I screamed that I was being crushed. These things may happen when everybody is so euphoric and elated, some people may get carried away. At the time, I was upset – I am really sensitive to being touched without warning, and the man just appeared from nowhere.

That night was full of weird scenes, like the long line of men wanting to seize the opportunity to be inside of me, even for mere seconds. They thrust once, twice, and gave way to the next guy. One of them was hesitant – I have a vague memory of a shy smirk, nothing remarkable about it. I don’t even remember his eyes. He tried to penetrate me and failed, his body trembling, I guess it was his first time on that kind of event.

There was another one who fondled me all over, under Ulysses’ attentive eyes. I had him by my side at all times. The situation was beyond my control, but he was an experienced participant. And I needed to feel secure as I explored around.

My intention at the time was to build a corpus of reflections on my relationship with the concept of alterity. It was an investigation on the limitations of the physical body. How my body would be affected, while being in touch with other bodies. There was also a spiritual dimension to my investigation. When we have sex with somebody, we receive the energy of this person. I wanted to understand the logic behind an orgy. Surrendering myself to that dissolute environment was not in consonance with my parents’ moral principles, or, rather, with the principles they imposed themselves or had chosen to adopt. I never knew the reason why it happened, but everybody in the world seemed to agree with a limited, monogamous view on things, while I saw myself taken by existential dilemmas that drove me to challenge all social barriers.

I dreamt of real chemistry rising between people from different backgrounds, something that made them leave the safety of their comfort zones and learn from the experience. Which proved to be something impossible to achieve, as reality imposed its endless unfairness. Diving into private havens of free sex is not available for everybody.