It appears as if this might be the first ever post in this sub community. I’ve never been first at anything like this before! I’ve got butterflies in my stomach, not gonna lie. But this instance didn’t even ask me for my email address. Nobody knows me here. I guess I can tell some stories.

Fair warning: this is a long story. If you just want to get off, there are loads of pictures elsewhere on this instance. And I am not a pornographer. This is a story about sex, not a lurid description.

This is a story, that for obvious reasons, I’ve never told anyone else. In my misspent youth, I had more than my share of sexual escapades, but then I got married and, for a time, my sex life got a little more boring. If the response is good, maybe I’ll dredge out the memory banks and tell some stories from the good old days. Hell, maybe I’ll tell you some stories of the good new days, too. But if I have the honor of writing the very first post in this place, I feel somewhat obligated to start with the story from my past most likely to be a crowdpleaser.

Anyway. You’re here to get off. I’m here to get you off. I’ve never written anything like this before. Let’s see if I’ve got what it takes.

The scene: Burning Man. Not gonna tell you what year. A while ago. My wife was on her 3rd trip, I was on my 4th. You’ve seen the youtube videos. You know what it is. Hot. Dusty. Overstimulating. Full of incredibly hot, dusty, overstimulating people, many of whom are sexy AF.

Our camp does a thing every year where we all take drugs together and then walk around. It’s usually pretty comical. So we looked in our drug stash and decided that Molly was the drug of the night, and then we walked around with some close friends and looked at some amazing art. And then at some point I realized I needed to fuck my beautiful wife, immediately.

Back then, before kids and covid and feeling old, we were really fucking hot. I was a runner, hiker, biker, outdoorsy person all around, not ripped but very fit. She grew up doing ballet and almost went pro. Tall, willowy, flexible, and shy but adventurous in surprising ways. And right then, at that moment, covered in playa dust and rolling hard, I needed to plow my tall, willowy, flexible, and adventurous wife. Hard.

But we were a long way from camp. So I did what you do in these situations. I asked my polyamorous burner friend, who had long since told me that I have an open pass to all her holes whenever I get over this monogamy bullshit, where we could go to fuck right NOW. And she got a look in her eye that I still haven’t forgotten and said, “well, Orgy Dome is about 10 minutes away at 3 and E.” And I asked my wife, who is not normally the kind of person to do these things, if she wanted to go to the legendary Orgy Dome. And she kissed me and grabbed my hand and we practically sprinted away.

Now the first thing you learn about the Orgy Dome is that it’s not a dome anymore. Domes have advantages on playa, but maximizing square footage inside is not one of them. There are a LOT of horny people on the playa. A dome is simply not big enough. So at some point the orgy dome people made the strategic decision that they needed to go with a rectangular expandable space. To do this cheaply, you build what is essentially a series of connected carports. But nobody wants to fuck in the orgy carport, so the orgy dome name stuck.

The next thing you learn is that the orgy dome is remarkably hetero. Not because they don’t like gay people, but because gay people don’t want to fuck with the straights. They have their own fuck tent across town at Comfort and Joy.

So there we were, all hopped up and ready to fuck, at the orgy carport with all the other straight couples. But first, we had to wait our turn. A whole lot of other people also wanted to fuck, too. So we sat in the exterior waiting area, nervous, not sure what to expect, touching each other discreetly and looking at other couples and some threesomes. Most people were doing what we were doing, but many were making out, fondling, caressing. It was the most incredibly sexy waiting room I’ve ever been in. The atmosphere was completely charged. Everyone in this room was going to go next door and fuck in front of, and perhaps with, each other.

There was some sort of registration process, and at some point a very lovely, very kind young hipster came up to us and went over a checklist to ensure that we knew the rules and to check in with both of us to make sure we were OK with what was about to happen. It is a very sex-positive, consent-based space, and it really set both of us at ease. Neither of us had ever done anything remotely like this before.

After our check-in talk and some more waiting and fondling, we were invited inside. It was dim, but not dark. There were dozens of twin mattresses on the ground, placed to fit the maximum number of people, with narrow pathways in between them. There were also benches and chairs, IIRC. There was a very kind woman at the front entrance with supplies, including lube, clean hand towels, and condoms, who was also one of a few volunteers keeping an eye out to make sure everyone was having the right kind of fun. She gave us what we needed and we turned to enter.

I squeezed my wife’s hand and we started to walk in, trying to find an empty bed. My first memory is the feeling of “man, this place is crowded” followed quickly by “we’re going to have to fuck so close to these other people we can touch them.” Which was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

We tiptoed through a sea of writhing, moaning bodies, trying to find our spot. There might have been some low background music, but all I really remember was sex sounds. It was not overpoweringly loud. It was not porn, with people screaming. But once tuned into it, it was the soundscape of pure pleasure and my brain could not tune it out.

Female moans. Male moans. Grunts. Quiet words of direction. The occasional “oh yes” or “oh god” or “fuck me baby,” but nothing excessive. The unmistakable slap of two bodies coming together, at every different pace, but especially that fast pace that indicates orgasm is about to happen. It was a bit like listening to ocean waves, if the ocean waves were 50 couples fucking. It was perhaps the most peaceful yet erotic thing I have ever heard. If there was one thing I could take away from all my years of sex, it would be an audio clip of the sound of the orgy dome.

Eventually we realized that unless we wanted to get a little more personal with some of the naked bodies on the ground than we felt comfortable with, we’d need to take the empty mattress nearest the front entrance. We began to strip, oddly shy, even though everyone around us was naked and actively fucking. A part of the experience is that everyone is watching everyone else, after all.

Lying down, I caught a glimpse of the man in front of us, perhaps 50 years old, with a massive dick at least twice as big as my entirely average one, fully engorged and entering his partner. Years later, I can still picture his swollen horse cock filling her up. It was live action porn of the best kind.

My wife and I, now naked, got down to our mattress and watched in awe at the seething multitude around us. We made out for a while, and eventually she guided me into her. While I remember having sex with her, and enjoying it, that is not the point of this story. The point of this story is what was happening around us.

The moans continued. The groans continued. The orgasms continued. We tried to slow ourselves as much as possible, as this was a special moment. A spot on a bench adjacent to us cleared out, and a new couple came in. I don’t remember the man, but I do remember the impossibly hot brunette with ponytails and perky B cup breasts who sat down on his lap in reverse cowgirl, maybe 3 feet from us, and obscured him from my view. I remember her bobbing up and down, her pert tits bouncing in front of us as he pulled her pony tails. I remember her face being fairly focused, not curious, her not wanting to make eye contact with me even as I ogled her sweaty, taut body while her man fucked her from behind a yard from my head. I remember her orgasm, her panting breaths, her standing up to show us her impossibly athletic body as she slipped back into her tiny outfit and disappeared into the night.

I remember the beautiful man with the huge dick and his partner finishing up one mattress up from us. As they stood to dress themselves and rejoin their playa adventures, I told them that they were a beautiful couple. He smiled broadly and said, “you should have joined us.” To this day I wish I had.

I remember a couple standing in the center of the room reaching orgasm together, the man entering her from behind and grasping her breasts, with a sea of prone bodies beneath them working towards the same goal. It was as if they were in the center of some Renaissance painting.

I remember fucking my wife on that mattress closest to the door, she riding me, and every person who walked in or out seeing us clearly, getting an unspoiled view of her perfect tits bouncing up and down, and both of us enjoying being part of the spectacle.

And yes, of course, I remember the important part. Cumming hard and deep and long inside her, the woman I love. But also staying there on that mattress, cuddling, listening to the sounds of dozens of other people reaching their conclusions all around us. Not wanting to leave a place so full of love and sex, but eventually relenting and making room for the next horny couple.

It was without a doubt the sexiest night of my life. And now that I’ve typed it all out, I’m so hard and turned on I have no choice but to go into the next room, pull my wife’s undies off her sleeping body, and fuck her while I dream of that night again.