You've done molly before?

The couple led me into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of orange juice from a little lunchbox. Were they just mad for mimosas? I wasn’t sure. They poured me a glass and I sipped it, expecting to taste champagne bubbles, but couldn’t taste anything. Maybe it was full of secret sweet booze? I finished the glass in two sips.

“What’s your name?” the woman asked me.

After a moment of internal consideration, I gave them my civvie name. Part of me felt like I was working. I wasn’t aroused, and I was about to be sexually active with a couple I felt nothing for. But I wasn’t working.

“What are your names?” I asked.

“I’m Meredith, and this is Imani.”

“You've done molly before?” Imani asked.

“Uh, yeah. Are we going to do molly?”

Meredith’s face paled, “I asked you if you wanted some of our molly orange juice.”

“Oh! I didn’t hear that.”

I thought back to that moment and the suddenly crucial, mumbled words I’d missed.

“Shit!” Meredith exchanged a concerned look with Imani, “Are you going to be okay? I’m so sorry.”

“Do you need water? I can get you some water,” Imani offered.

“This is terrible,” Meredith whispered to Imani.

“I’m okay! It’s fine. I’ve done plenty of drugs. It’s certainly not my first time doing molly. I’ll be fine.”

Imani wrapped an arm around Meredith’s shoulder and she gradually relaxed.

“So, do you still want to go downstairs and play with us?” Imani asked.

I appreciated the explicit consent conversation. I’d agreed to play with them, but I had not agreed to play with them while on molly. I was glad that Imani asked a second time, considering the evolving circumstances.

“Yeah, I’m still down.”

We descended the stairs to the orgy basement where the festivities had already begun. There was a rack of black silk robes clearly placed out for us.

“That’s thoughtful,” Meredith remarked.

“Shall we find somewhere to get changed?” I asked.

Meredith and I stole away to a closet to get undressed. I wouldn’t have minded stripping down in the center of everything, but I figured she may not be so comfortable getting naked in front of strangers. I removed my leather dress and put on the black silk robe. I noticed a plastic package in my pocket.

“There are condoms in the pockets!” I said, holding one up for Meredith to see, “What a nice touch.”

I wasn’t saying anything, even though I was saying things. Neutral observations. I felt a need to fill the space between us but was unsure how. The problem was that my prevailing feeling was anxiety, not horniness or even attraction, which are allegedly integral to fucking people. As you all know, I am demisexual. I’ve had periods in my life when I’ve been much hornier, but I am years past that point. I hoped that maybe the molly would invite a bit of sensuality into my body, but instead I felt paralyzed in what could best be described as a fight-or-flight response. Except that I wasn’t choosing between fight or flight, I was choosing to fuck. As I pondered this, Meredith emerged from her understated outfit in a strappy leather set that for some reason made me think of Tomb Raider.

“How do you feel about us?” Meredith asked with a directness I was unprepared for.

I fumbled my words, trying to find a polite answer.

“You two are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Meredith said with a raised eyebrow, “We think you are beautiful too. We noticed you as soon as we saw you.”

“Oh,” I blushed.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

I nodded.

When we opened the door, the room was full of people coupled up. A naked man hurried past us, a fully erect boner leading the way ahead of him. We made our way to a room filled with mattresses. There were approximately ten, queen-sized mattresses lined up edge-to-edge, and on those mattresses were various couples getting freaky. I was pleasantly surprised by the variety of pussy-centric pleasure activities going on, albeit in an overwhelmingly heterosexual way. Multiple men had their faces fully buried between women’s legs. A few exhibitionists cried out loudly as they engaged in penetrative sex. The light-skinned Black woman from earlier sprawled naked in a kiddie pool filled with plastic ball pit balls, as an eager White man spoke to her, his hands politely covering his erection. Meredith and I tiptoed across the sea of mattresses to where Imani had set up in a corner. He beamed up at us.

“Look at my wife!” he exclaimed, “I am the luckiest man. Can you believe I’m with this woman? I mean, look at her ass!”

It was sweet to witness Imani dote on Meredith. She gave him a suggestive wink as she took a seat.

“You see it, right? You understand,” Imani looked at me.

“She’s gorgeous,” I nodded.

“You’re gorgeous,” Meredith added.

I felt a bit like a duck swimming in a river surrounded by alligators. They licked their lips in anticipation.

“What do you like?” Imani asked.

I knew that this question was coming, and yet, I couldn’t put together the words. It’s a question I get countless times between work and my personal life, and yet it is a question that will forever confound me. It’s a question that makes my demi (or perhaps gray asexual?) head hurt. I like when I don’t have to think about what I like. I like when someone else really likes something that I can participate in facilitating. I like when someone else’s sexuality leads the way, and I can follow. All of these likes were a bit too immaterial to answer Imani’s question, so I attempted to make my abstract internal word concrete.

“I like kissing and touching. I like closeness and being sensual.”

The puzzled look on Imani’s face alerted me to the fact that my attempt at concreteness had fallen flat.

“Do you like oral?” he asked.

“Sometimes.”

“Can I kiss you?” Meredith asked.

“Can we kiss you?” Imani asked.

“Yeah.”

I tried to focus on making out with Meredith and Imani, but the action happening around us was extraordinarily distracting. A few feet away, I watched a white woman with an Amazon feather headband press a magic wand against her pussy while a man I presumed to be her boyfriend stood by patiently stroking his dick. When she finally did allow him in, he proceeded quietly to penetrate her with only the slightest degree of motion. Beside them, a woman was giving a man a very sloppy blow job. Her wet gags filled the large room as the man tipped his head back in pleasure. A Black woman knelt, squirming as her partner fingerbanged her from behind. A Black couple reclined on one of the mattresses near the exit, watching the scene play out. I enjoyed kissing Meredith and Imani, but I enjoyed watching the frenetic sexual romping much more.

Meredith pulled back, “I like to have my nipples sucked. Are you open to that?”

One thing about me is I love sucking on tiddies.

“Definitely.”

Meredith slid down her shirt and I filled my mouth with her nipple. Imani sat back and watched us, assessing where he could enter.

“Can I eat your pussy?” Imani asked me.

“No.”

It was satisfying to tell him “no”. Imani looked a bit puzzled but rolled with the punches.

“Do you mind making a bit of space so I can eat my wife’s pussy?”

“Of course.”

*****

Hi y’all,

I’ve been slammed this quarter, and I’m deep in finals. I’ll finish this story by Friday, I promise <3