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[title]Male, 27, River North
Halloween 2005 was the first big party in New Orleans after Katrina: Picture a few hundred gay men partying in a hotel bar near a building lost to a fire. My boyfriend and I went as sailors. Another couple, friends of friends we’d met twice before, were dressed in recovery-themed costumes: painters’ white paper jumpsuits with paintbrushes. The older of them, a stately 38, was a wealthy professional with loose ties to local politics. The younger, a lithe 28, had no profession but was lean, handsome and had a finishing-school refinement. My boyfriend and I had never done it with another couple, though we’d discussed it. His enthusiasm trailed mine, but I was confident he’d catch up as long as I made him believe it was his idea.
He became flirtatious with the older guy, and the possibility of leaving together hung overhead. I asked, “So what does one wear underneath a white paper jumpsuit?” In response, the younger one unzipped himself. Downy-soft dirty-blond hairs peeked out from well below his navel. I blushed, and his husband laughed heartily at the public exhibition. Luckily, we drank more and danced jubilantly. When my puppy-eyed boyfriend said, “They want us to come back to their place,” I answered, “Well, if you want to, I guess.…” Secretly, I was delighted.
Their house towered three stories above St. Charles Avenue. The master-bedroom suite featured a sitting area all-too-well suited to our task. Immediately, the younger one peeled off his painter’s jumpsuit, confirming he had nothing on beneath it. It was abrupt, almost comic. I began to chatter, and the four of us sat and talked. The naked one crossed his legs as if nothing was out of the ordinary. But his partner soon took charge, grasping the nape of my neck in his big hand and asking with a drawl, “You boys still okay with this?”
It turned out we were. Our inhibitions left with our costumes. We swapped and swapped again, joining together and pairing off in new configurations. The oversize love seat on which we fucked was perfect for creative positions.
The best part was also the biggest surprise: seeing my partner in a whole new light, sharing with him the nervous energy of leaving our comfort zone. Afterward, I was able to focus on him more than before, the way a palate cleanser allows one to better taste the next course of a meal. That night, my boyfriend and I slept in their guest room, happy to have broken in our trust like a baseball mitt. In the morning, the younger guy was curled up between us, and the smell of homemade biscuits wafted up from the kitchen, where his husband was making breakfast for us all.
FIRST TIMER’S TIPS * Manage your expectations. Just because there are twice as many people in the bed doesn’t mean the sex will automatically be twice as good. * Know your boundaries. One man’s junk might be another man’s treasure, but only if his partner is comfortable with it. * Craigslist is great for finding group-sex opportunities because it offers options for people of all sexual orientations.