How to Do It

I Just Got Invited to a Sex Party. But I Can’t Forget What Went Down at the Last One.

I can’t tell if this one will be better.

Person with their hand resting on their chin.
Photo illustration by Slate. Photo by DedMityay/iStock/Getty Images Plus.

How to Do It is Slate’s sex advice column. Have a question? Send it to Jessica and Rich here. It’s anonymous!

Dear How to Do It,

I just got invited to a sex/play party and there are so many things going on in my head and body that I need to unpack. I’ve been to one other sex party, which I attended about a year ago. I’m afraid that if I go to this one, what happened there would occur again.

I was the only person at the whole party that no one approached to play with or even kiss. I’m a 33-year-old with a toddler and am still not comfortable with how my post-pregnancy body looks—the extra curves, bigger size, scars, etc. I’m also already a pretty introverted/shy person—and maybe asexual. I do have a sex drive and sometimes find sex pleasurable but I don’t think I have sexual attraction to others per se. So why would I even want to go to a sex party you ask?

I desperately crave queer intimacy and really want to be the kind of person who feels free enough to play at a sex party even though it’s so far outside my comfort zone. This party I got invited to is one my (casual) friend is hosting for their birthday so I’ll likely know a lot of the people at least as acquaintances. I don’t know if that will make it easier or harder for me. How do I prepare for this? I’ll be content with just kissing and not having sex, but I honestly don’t even know how to make that happen after the last one I went to, where I obviously looked unapproachable (besides the friends I went with last time, I didn’t know any of the people there). I want to go to this party, and I want to want to have sex or play. I don’t want to go if it’s going to be like the last one though, where no one talked to me, made eye contact, or approached me.

—Asexual at a Sex Party

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Rich Juzwiak: The first thing to keep in mind is that rejection is part of the game. You may not be talked to or approached at any sex party for a variety of reasons. This happens to people who would be described by many as objectively hot and people who might not fit the same description. It’s just part of the experience. So if that is an issue, and if that will be traumatic and make our writer feel even worse about themselves after going, I would say don’t go.

Jessica Stoya: I agree. First, consider whether, in the possible event that it is exactly like the last one, that will be devastating. And if so, there will be other sex parties in the future.

Rich: Also, when your friend invites you to a sex party, the implication is, “I may want to have sex with you there.” So there could be a positive way to look at this, too. You’ve got at least one seemingly interested person. So maybe that’s one point for why they should go. Maybe they should write out a list of pros and cons here since they’re on the fence.

Jessica: It’s never a good idea to have the host be your buddy because they’re busy. They have to be a butterfly. But it might be worth asking the friend, “Is anyone coming that I am particularly friendly with, that I could reach out to ahead of time to say, ‘Hey, I’m feeling anxious about this. Would you be open to partially keeping an eye on me, being my buddy and someone I can check in with if I’m feeling lost and isolated?’”

But yes, I suggest the writer slows down and considers, “Do I actually want that? What do I want out of a sex party experience, and what do I just feel like I want, because what I’ve been told I should want or because that’s what people seem to want?” This will help them formulate an idea of what will be a positive or successful experience for them.

Rich: Right. None of this is mandatory. The writer wants to be the kind of person who would go to this kind of thing and have fun, but what kind of person is that anyway? It’s not necessarily any major declaration of identity. It’s just a thing that you did.

It might help to keep that in perspective if they eventually don’t go, or go and don’t have quite as good of a time as they wanted. It’s just a thing that people do. It’s a hobby. Are you the kind of person who plays badminton? Are you the kind of person who goes to the park on a day off to help clean things up? Do you go birdwatching? You can put all of this on the same list, and it’s not necessarily a judgment on who you are as a person. It just explains what you do.

Jessica: I want to unpack the asexual component a little bit. Aubri Lancaster, an expert in asexuality, describes one of the components of asexuality as an absence of desire for other people. But also, asexuality is not another box to feel bad about not cleanly conforming to. Some people have sexual desires toward themselves and toward fantasies or groups, and not toward individual humans. Every person has this scattering of different preferences. So I would focus more on considering what they think they might enjoy in detail than on a particular label.

Rich: For sure. And if our writer does adhere to the classic, current definition of asexuality, they’re effectively pushing themselves. I know that they’ve said that they want to get out of their comfort zone, but you need to be reasonable about it, too. Being asexual with a lack of sexual attraction to other people at a sex party means you’re putting yourself in a difficult situation in which to perform. It can already be difficult one-on-one. You really don’t have to push yourself so hard.

I’ve very rarely felt comfortable at sex parties. I actually relate a little bit to this letter, and there was a period where I went a lot of them because I was researching gay sex parties in New York, and obviously, because I was interested too. But aside from here and there, I just find it’s kind of not for me. That’s not an indictment of my sexuality, it’s just a specific preference. So again, I want to encourage the writer to not extract too much meaning from this if it doesn’t work out. It’s really just a thing that people are doing for fun.

Jessica: I don’t think I’ve ever been to a planned sex party in someone’s living room, but I have been to other similar gatherings and I do not enjoy having sex with people at those things. But I do enjoy being at them. It’s too loud and chaotic for me to actually form a sort of mental or emotional rapport with a person—and I need some element of that. But I have a great time when the opportunity presents itself just existing there, and getting to watch people being happy.

There’s also something really fun, chic, and cosmopolitan to me about being in that environment. So you can do a sex party in any way you want to, and it doesn’t have to follow a structure of, “I’m going to attend, someone’s going to approach me, and I’m going to have sex with them.”

Rich: You can just go, hang out, and take in the atmosphere. That was largely what I was doing, and it is interesting, for sure. But as for seeking queer intimacy, I wouldn’t really look to a sex party for intimacy. Certainly, it’s possible, and obviously definitions of intimacy vary, but a lot of people approach these things not looking for intimacy in any way that I understand it. It’s more so an anonymous cruising thing. This may be different because it is organized by a friend. It may be many people that they know.

Jessica: So, about the post-pregnancy body… I think it’s fair to say that all of us have stuff we don’t like about our bodies, and almost all of us have things about our bodies that plenty of people in the world will say to our faces, on perhaps Instagram, is gross because it’s not their personal taste. You can’t do anything about that. But when you’re in a sexually charged environment, they’re not looking at you like you look at yourself with the evil overhead bathroom light on after getting out of the shower.

Rich: People tend to be more forgiving. In general, you can count on being your biggest critic. You’re paying the most attention to yourself. Whenever I need a reality check, I think about the way I regard other people, and I sometimes think imperfections are “hot things.”

Jessica: You can also dress around your insecurity—to both direct the gaze where you want it to go and for your own confidence. If your belly, for example, is bothering you, get a cheap corset. As for your extra curves, is there anything about the curves that you like or are proud of that you can then highlight to draw attention away from the areas that you’re sensitive about?

Rich: Absolutely. What I glean from the letter is that we’re dealing with an overachiever who wants to exist beyond the constraints of their current reality. They want to try new things, and that’s great but with that comes risk. So like Jessica said, if it’s going to devastate you, don’t go. If you’re going to spend weeks worrying or upset about the fact that you didn’t try, then try, and know that at the very least, it was an experience. It’s different than staying home on your couch and watching TV, so ultimately, you can value the fact that you went and at least saw what it was like.

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