I don’t write about sex all that much, not in the “I had sex let me describe it like a porn writer” way, just in the fantastical way or hot scenes. Sex is personal to me these days, and more often separate from kink. But both my new partner, SF, and camp bring those two things together more fully for me, than even having events in the upstairs of a swing club. The energy is just different there. More open, accepting, freeing.
I knew I wanted to have sex in the woods at camp this year with SF. We planned and plotted and teased and imagined and fantasized. We ended up having a nice, normal date in the woods that afternoon. No big scene, no chase through the trees. We went for a walk out on the paths, carrying an electric fan, water bottles, and a blanket. We found a nice spot, on only slightly slanted ground. And we enjoyed one another, kisses and touches, skin to skin, bites and orgasms, sex and cuddling. It was a lovely afternoon in the woods.
Well, that doesn’t sound all that kinky, you might think, dear reader. Well, you and I probably feel that way, but you ask your vanilla friends about stripping naked in the woods and biting their partner while they orgasm and beg to be claimed. It’s a little kinky. But let’s rewind the weekend to the more kinky part of my sexual exploration – Leather Bar the night before.
Let me preface this by saying, I know that Leather Bars are a big part of gay men’s culture, and I am not a part of that group. If you want to know more about this history, check out the Leather Archives & Museum. Leather Bar at camp is an homage to this tradition, flagging your interest with bandanas and cruising without needing words.
I dressed for Leather Bar, but was not intending to go behind the curtain for the cruising aspect. I’m not one for random hookups, of a sexual nature or otherwise. I wanted to get posed photographs with SF and his wife. We missed each other at the event the night before. They napped late into the evening, but eventually decided they had the energy to go. So, together we went and got our photos, then entered the bar area. They checked out the front areas and then headed for the back.
Do you want to come? I grabbed his hand nervously. I’ll protect you, he smiled.
I did not feel in danger consent is still required behind the curtain, just done differently. Not that kind of protection, but the strength of his presence beside me. When I want a thing, especially a new thing that is outside my normal comfort, I am often afraid of it. I don’t do public sex, I haven’t even gone down on anyone in public except an interrupted scene over a decade ago. I don’t want people watching me do these things. Insecurity abounds. We’ve talked a lot about me not being ready for sex, but maybe oral at the swing club events, but not done that, yet. I wasn’t afraid of being pushed into something, but afraid I wouldn’t do anything except be awkward.
She asked the question first. Stated her want and asked if I wanted to use the glory hole. I appreciate her instigation, but really prefer that he ask me. She wanted it out there so he would know it was okay ask. So, she wandered off to give us space. Two introverts at a Leather Bar. I didn’t like the glory hole idea, I can’t see him, he can’t see me. The exact opposite of what I want – everyone else seeing us, but not seeing each other. The sexual energy around us was intoxicating, and we were soon kissing and letting our bodies press together to shake off the nervousness for a few minutes before rejoining her.
He asked then if I wanted to somewhere else in the space. I said I did, but I just needed out of my head. We found a place in the darkness, at the edge of the space, where another scene had just finished. Near enough to hear and be heard, but not easily seen by others. There he started talking and touching and kissing. Pulling focus to himself, to us, to our connection, to our want for each other. Drawing me out of my head and into my body, into my desire for him, to please him, to give him pleasure. To the sensations he was providing, to the heat between us, until I was ready.
I won’t go into detail here of what I did, but it was important to me what he did. He kept talking, encouraging, and praising me. He kept contact with his hands, guiding sometimes, but always touching me, keeping all the connection points he could. Giving me permission to please him, to worship his body the ways I wanted to. Talking about what he wanted to do in return, right there, or the next day in the woods. Pulling me up when we hit a predetermined limit, but not letting go. Continuing to touch and kiss and connect, not letting go of the moment, just changing the energy until we were both breathless and satiated for that moment in time. Knowing we would have time to go further the next day.
SF then went to his next interaction, and I sat on the bench in front of where we had just played. Watching, but not really focusing on the bar around me. A scene on the bench near me kept drawing my focus, and catching glimpses of SF with his other partner. Unable to look too long at any one thing, still unsure of my unattended presence, but too blissed out on the new experience to worry overmuch. Just waiting to be led away again, out of this pocket of sexual energy that had pushed me to explore and expand myself.
We may have arrived a bit late to the party, but it was well worth the wait. A delicious evening I will not forget.
