My First Lesbian Orgy Helped Me Come Out as Bisexual to My Brother

Disclaimer: This story takes place during Burning Man 2019, aka when it was acceptable to go to IRL orgies, and festivals, and concerts, and anywhere else, without wearing a mask or socially distancing. Stay inside and follow CDC guidelines, folks.

---

“We need to make sure we don’t end up at the same orgy,” said Wes, the oldest of my two brothers. We were sitting at a build-your-own burger place in Silicon Valley, just a few days before we’d be attending Burning Man together.

Of all the nightmare scenarios I could conjure in my mind, attending an orgy with one of my siblings would be number one.

Wes had attended the annual festival nearly half a dozen times before, and I, being the little sister who loves big events and who spent my childhood copying what my older brothers did, wanted to go.

But Burning Man has a salacious reputation for a reason. Wild sex parties might not be at the center of the event, but they do happen a lot. And Wes and I weren’t going to attend an event that is notorious for “exploring self-expression” without attending a few—separate— orgies.

One logistical problem with that plan: Phones are discouraged at Burning Man. Even if you bring one, there’s no service in the middle of the desert, which means Wes and I would have no way to give each other live updates like, “Hey I’m at so-and-so’s orgy, stay away or I’ll kill you.”

This content is imported from {embed-name}. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

So after thinking about it, and thinking about it some more, then thinking about it some more, I finally said: “Well, I’m bisexual, so I’ll just attend an all-girls orgy.”

And although I had been heavily implying it for a while, this was the first time I had directly told anyone in my family about my sexuality. Sure, it wasn’t exactly how I intended to come out, but sometimes the necessity of avoiding going to an orgy with your sibling takes precedence over pretty much anything else.

Plus, my childhood bedroom is decorated with paintings of naked women I made, partly in the hopes that my family would catch on to my not-so-subtle hints. I figured if naked women on my wall didn’t say “I’m a big gay,” nothing would.

Wes reacted with loving indifference when I told him, much like my parents would when I came out to them a year later. And shortly after our convo, we moved on from it, packed up Wes’s RV, and embarked on an eight hour drive to Nevada’s Black Rock Desert.

Up until that point in my life, I had only ever had sex with one woman. The vast canon of my sexual experience mostly excluded women, and changing that felt like a way of proving my sexuality. My one sexual experience with a woman was a chaotic threesome with a girl and her boyfriend, and in the end, she stole my shoes. So, I was determined to have sex with a woman on this trip—even though my period had started a few days before.

When we got there, I decided to go to an all-girls orgy at a longstanding lesbian camp. (Aka, a safe place with no brother in sight.)

When I arrived, some girls sitting at a table out front gave me a number. They were letting people into the orgy tent in small groups so everyone could have space. When it was finally my turn, I stripped and walked in.

Twin mattresses were laid out around the edges. There was one giant mattress in the middle, which had a group of four or so girls getting frisky. Some couples were banging and other girls were lounging around watching. I became one of the latter, finding an empty mattress to sit on while I watched other girls around me.

Eventually a girl that I’d mingled with outside walked by me. She went by “Fox.” I complimented her dildo, and she told me she was a pleasure top who was determined to make our little adventure all about me.

Right when we started touching, we were joined by another girl for some mild foreplay. I don’t remember her name, but I remember she had a pixie haircut, used a riding crop, and was more into watching than participating. Then Fox had her way with me and left.

I stayed in the orgy tent for a while processing my feelings. The sounds of moans grew and softened. It started to get late, so I got up, put on my clothes, and biked to the bathroom to put another tampon in. (Luckily I didn’t have any excessive bleeding at the orgy, just some mild spotting.)

That orgy taught me one major thing: My attraction to women is a bit complicated. They live in a realm of desire that can’t directly be measured directly through having sex with them. When I see a beautiful woman, I’m more likely to want to smell her hair than jump into bed with her. And that’s okay.

So though a big gay orgy may not be the most conventional way to have a deep realization about sexuality (or a reason to come out to your brother, lol), it certainly worked for me.

And the good thing is Wes and I successfully made it through the week without ending up at an orgy together. Because I can’t imagine how much therapy it would take to help me process a scene like that. And whomst would have guessed that trying to avoid incest would lead to a better understanding of my own sexuality? Not I.

This content is created and maintained by a third party, and imported onto this page to help users provide their email addresses. You may be able to find more information about this and similar content at piano.io

Sex & Relationships – Cosmopolitan
Original Source Read More