Upstairs

We were upstairs for… maybe an hour, probably less. A group formed and followed John and Jane around as he searched for a free play area until he found an open room. The group paraded in… John, Jane, Dee, myself, six other couples. The other couples arranged themselves in a semi-circle along the wall: boy, girl, boy, girl. Dee and I stood near the entrance. I felt… resigned?

In reality, I don’t think I felt anything. I wasn’t uncomfortable at all, but I didn’t have any sense of anticipation. No trepidation, no anxiety, no thrill, no rush of horniness. Nothing.

“Ok…” John said, opening the bag he had with him and taking out toys, setting them down like a surgeon preparing for a minor procedure. He spread out a towel on the mattress to protect the sheets. “Who wants to go first?”

“Dee’s going first,” Jane reminded him.

“Ok, then… Dee?” he said, patting the towel. “C’mon. Just lay down.”

His tone was entirely businesslike, like a professional who just had a job to do. It lacked any semblance of foreplay. It lacked seduction. It lacked even the most basic hints of eroticism. For me, this was as sexual an experience as accompanying Dee to the OB/GYN (“Ok… lay back… if something hurts or feels uncomfortable, let me know… you ready?”).

Dee lay down on the towel and John gave her a blindfold, which she put on. I sat nearby and felt… as though I’d been mis-cast for the part I was supposed to play. I was supposed to be the husband, and this was supposed to be about our relationship, about connecting as a couple, and here I was… sitting off to the side, twiddling my thumbs.

John began “the demonstration” – talking about techniques and options in a detached, uninvolved way as Dee began to get turned on by the stimulation he provided.

Again… I felt nothing. The best way I can describe it is to say I felt as though I’d entered the room looking forward to an intimate sexual experience with Dee and finding myself in a room full of only strangers… and when I look around, I don't seeing Dee anywhere (this is how I felt, of course, as Dee was right next to me). I felt like I’d wandered into the wrong lecture hall, and, realizing this isn’t where I wanted to be, couldn’t make a graceful, quiet exit.

The couples around me conversed – some talking about Dee’s reactions in a clinical sense (“Based on the arch in her back, I guess she likes that,” “Yeah, John, you may not even need the attachments.”), while others seemed to be as uninterested as I was (“I think they're going to have roast beef sandwiches downstairs later?” “Really? They usually only have ham.”). One couple played lightly together, but even as he licked her, she chatted with a friend in a way that clearly showed he wasn’t too distracting to her. A single woman leaned forward, sucked Dee’s nipple for a second, then retreated.

I was not turned on at all.

Dee picked up on my disinterest (it is amazing that, blindfolded, holding only my hand, in a room full of strangers, while distracted by “the best vibrator on the market,” wielded by a self-professed “expert” in it’s use, Dee perceived my disinterest… it’s a little bit special to be that connected to someone), said the safe word, and called an end to it all.

We left the room, and talked for a while. John found another subject for demonstration, and as we sat in the cubby nearby, a constant series of screams emanated from the room, mixed with the babble and laughter of disjointed conversations among the audience members, making it impossible to talk. It didn’t sound sexual to me – I like the sounds of sex, and they normally SERIOUSLY turn me on, but to me this sounded like ten guys jawing it up at a lively poker game while bad 70’s porn played on the VCR with the volume cranked up.

We decided it would be best if we just went home.

I feel bad for Dee in the sense that I believe if she’d been there alone, she would have enjoyed a fantastic orgasmic experience, and so I ruined that for her. I feel my complete lack of interest held her back, and prevented her from experiencing something she was really wished for.

Still, we talked in the car on the way home, my mood had returned in full, and I took her upstairs and did what I could to make up for it.

[Next: What I Learned!]