It is Sunday, I am tired. My not-girlfriend invited me to a sex party yesterday. A gangbang, really. That’s how we met, a bit more than three years ago. She is a cute little thing, quite attractive, great body, petite. She also has a girlfriend, a trans-woman. As far as I am concerned, she has a boyfriend. There is what they tell me, and there is what I see. And I what I see is that her boyfriend pimps her out to other men. Not for money. For community. Or clout. Pictures are taken and posted on Fetlife or Reddit.
I entered this scene years ago. Swinging, gangbangs, whatever I could find. Seemed like an easy way to get sex, cheaper than hookers too. Good for the ego as well: being chosen and doing a stellar jobs satisfying a woman. And it made me feel alive. Experiences so intense, I remember how hard it was to get back to baseline. I had to keep it a secret too, back then I was still in relationships.
Eve was interesting. She was exactly my type. Petite, moderately Asian, and seemingly with a large sexual appetite. The first time I met her, we are a dozen men and two women. Bareback. I liked her, she seemed fun. Well spoken and smart too. We met a few times back then, always in group settings. Then I broke off contact, I was dating exclusively and for the first time in my life, I didn’t want to cheat. Half a year ago I wrote her boyfriend. She came over. Alone.
I remember that she was nervous. We laughed a lot. The sex was very intense. I tied her up, whipped her, challenged her on many levels. We fell for each other. We met each other every two weeks. I started talking about a relationship. They are “poly”. Polyamorous. And so I became her boyfriend. She started calling me daddy. Her “girlfriend” is mommy.
We have spectacular sex. Whole Sundays. Many hours. I feel whole. She is my heroin.
Reality is seeping through the cracks. Eve can not set boundaries. She admits that she does the gangbangs for her “girlfriend”. There is nothing more that she wants than to please. Sometimes I threaten to fuck her ass to get a rise out of her. And then I do. She says she loves to be used.
Underneath there is a black void that I can not fill. Eve drinks frequently, every night she gets high on weed. She is on SNRIs. She wanted children but lost her uterus a few years ago. She still wants them, but her “girlfriend” lives with their girlfriend and doesn’t want to be a dad. And Eve doesn’t want to find another partner because she feels “seen” and fully loved, no matter what she does.
Yesterday, I went to the party. I asked to join but then thought it was a bad idea and decided against it. Then Eve invited me personally. So in the evening, I went. I took my PrEP and 10mg of Tadalafil, just in case. I enter the house they had rented and say hi. A few women. A few trans-women. Men. All the women out of shape, deformed by decades of US diets. We played some boardgames. Eve got drunk. Then she smoked some weed. Then she started getting undressed at the kitchen table and rubbing against me. I reciprocate half-heartedly. Her “girlfriend” starts eating her out. They talk: “We should get you lying down so they can fuck you.” - “Are you sure?” - “Yes, why not?” - “I trust you”. Off they go to another room. I move slower, I did not want to fuck her, she was too inebriated, too out of it.
As I enter the room, they are fucking her. A woman is watching in the corner. She was at the kitchen table, saw the whole scene, knew that Eve was drunk. Her boyfriend was fucking Eve, his bare member glistening as he shoved it into her pussy. Her “girlfriend” had her dick in her mouth. A black guy in the corner was waiting his turn.
I knew this was wrong. I hoped they would stop. I paced around, heard Eve moan and whimper. I did not want to get involved, I am not responsible for her, I am not her partner. And what does it matter, how many times has she been fucked against her will? I check on her once more. Her “girlfriend” invites me to join. “She is too drunk for me”. Finally, it clicks. Next time I check someone is bringing Eve water. We sit on the bed, the three of us. Both of her partners caressing Eve. The rest of the people have left. Nothing more to fuck.
Eve is out of it, but she talks. “I’m so happy you are here.”. “I want to be good for you, daddy”. I assure her that everything is fine, that I am here, that she does not need to worry. We spend an hour like this. Finally, I drive home.
Before I go to bed, I text her, tell her she should drop by at my place tomorrow. I don’t sleep well, wake up at 3am, toss and turn. In the morning I check my messages, she is coming by.
I make her breakfast, ask her what she remembers. Not getting undressed at the kitchen table, not getting fucked. Finally, she tells me that this was rape. Silently, I thank her for saying it, I was expecting to be gaslit.
We lay down in the bed to rest. To talk. About us, her relationship, our fears. Then we have sex. To me, it feels intimate, but somehow she has this unnatural smile on her face while we do it. I mostly don’t notice, because I am burried into her body, I don’t see her face. Her mood shifts after. It seems like a low state makes place for a high state. We talked about our relationship before. I want kids, biological ones. She can’t give them to me. After, it seems like she she has forgotten. We have sex once more, she leaves.
Somehow I want to have sympathy for myself, pretend that this just happens to me. Sometimes I have sex with Eve and I understand that I should not. I understand that I am exploiting her insecurities and she is exploiting mine. But I don’t want to stop my heroin. I know that it is bad for me. I know she will go back to her “girlfriend” and I know that she is too dependent to live without them. And yet, she is the only thing in the world that makes me feel wanted.
It drives me mad the she wants me but doesn’t commit to me, drives me mad that she fucks other men. It drives me mad that she chooses those degenerates over me. I have compromised my values for her. She says she doesn’t want to be saved.
I would not want to be saved either.