Remember when I was looking for hook-ups in my cousin’s Hello Kitty bedroom when I was in the States? While searching on Google for bear-only apps, I came across an ad for something called ‘The Bear Party’ in Manhattan. It was a sex party that advertised mostly to bears but assured that any type of guy was welcome to join. In other words, it was an orgy, and I wanted to go.
As a gay kid visiting from a very Catholic country where being gay is already a huge no-no, my curiosity forced me to go. I decided early on that I would only be going to observe; I figured it would be fun to write about. Going through all of the party rules, observing seemed like the safest way to participate in that orgy. They warned that because of PreP, some men fuck bareback, but they did provide condoms with the $25 cover charge. Still, deciding not to have sex did not exempt me from having to strip down to my underwear.
There I was, sitting naked, except for my underwear, in a dark, literally underground club in Chelsea. The club had flat screens screwed on the wall, showing bears screwing each other. One wall had a plethora of BDSM paraphernalia, and another side had a sex sling. I moved to an upstairs area where I had a view of the entire club, and saw that big, burly men were flooding the building, like employees in a bank on payday. One of them approached me and asked if he could kiss me.1 I know I was just there to “observe,” but I figured that I was already half naked and that when I went home, I’d never get to experience anything like that, so I went for it.
This dude was the worst kisser. He licked my cheeks, put his tongue up my nose and forced it down my throat. It was so bad, I didn’t even notice that someone took my underwear off and started giving me a blowjob. I wanted to have fun with other guys, but the same dude kept finding me throughout the rest of the party to eat my face.
The only refuge I had was to take an STD test, which came free with the cover charge for the party. That was awkward, too, because before I went in to get tested, I could no longer find my underwear. At that point, I didn’t know which was worse: having my face eaten or being lectured about safe sex while completely naked in a small room with nobody but me and the guy who took my samples.
Coming out, and all of my results being negative, I found myself alone in the main room. I asked the attendant if the party was over, but he pointed me to a door, and I was not prepared for what I was about to see… Behind the door was a smaller room where everyone was. In one corner, there was a small circle of men giving each other blowjobs. In another, a line of masturbating men was formed while waiting to take turns on a guy who volunteered himself as the sacrificial bottom. There were about 50 of us in that dark room. I have never even seen porn with that many guys.
I kept to myself on a bed, trying to take in everything. It now looked so strange, so bizarre. Was that even real? I didn’t know whether to feel turned on or creeped out. I still had enough spunk to be turned on and to finish myself off, however. I decided to leave after coming. I never found my underwear, and the worst part of the day was neither having my face eaten nor getting tested while completely naked—it was having to go to a family dinner afterwards commando, smelling like sex.
- Looks-wise, he was in his late 50s, sort of looked Russian, probably Italian, was taller than I am and had a chestful of hair.