The Adventures of a First Time Player - (Part One) Play?

Last October I went to Seattle for Gender Odyssey, an annual Transgender community conference.  Upon receiving the schedule I saw that on one of the last nights there was going to be a Trans positive play party.  I hadn’t ever heard of a play party before and the description left me guessing between something like a slumber party (like a tupperware party but with sex toys) and a straight up sex party.  The only reference I have for sex parties are sparse cinematic and literary images of somewhat gross and desperate people engaging in rather filthy acts.  Safety and fun didn’t immediately jump to mind. 

At the opening social I made an uncharacteristically bold decision to ask some random but very friendly Trans folks what this party business was all about.  They confirmed that it was, for all intents and purposes, a sex party and explained to me that some people go to watch, others to participate.  Later at the GenderQueer social, I listened in on a conversation between several inquisitive young minds and two veteran players.  I was initially captivated by the interracial, inter-age, inter-gender and general Queerness (and hotness) of these two players but was eager to hear more details about the party.  They answered the question on the collective tip our disbelieving minds, “Yeah but to people actually have sex?”

I spent the rest of the conference days leading up to the play party discussing attendance with my fellow Utah travelers.  My friend (w/benefits :), M, from Washington was definitely going, the super-Queer couple in our midst was in, some were too young, some were too bashful, and one particularly tragic guy was intrigued but caught up in the trappings of monogamy. 

On the night of the party, M and I waited for the shuttle from the hotel to the "Center" ***name ommitted due to legal waiver***.  The name conjured up images of community centers and resource spaces I have always frequented.  I imagined these spaces temporarily manipulated, possibly cordoned off for one night to accommodate 100 or so Queer Trans folk.  Riding the shuttle felt kind of like getting strapped in to a really exciting but really intimidating roller coaster.  Everyone who had ridden before exuding calming energy to those of us trying to slow our breathing.  Boasting in the kind of way that makes you grateful instead of violent.  I was glad there were other first timers going.  The short ride transformed our motley crew into a united cohort.  Nervous talkers asked for introductions.  The bold started flirting, not with anyone in particular but more like throwing some flirt into the air and just letting it sprinkle down onto the rest of the riders. 

Tension mounted as we pulled into the parking lot.  I recognized the collective intake of breath that precedes the falling scream on roller coasters.  I stepped out of the van and instinctively took one final deep breath knowing that the taste buds in my lungs would soon be breathing in unknown flavors.  Holding onto M’s hand tighter than I probably intended, a bright-eyed-bushy-tailed smile on my face, I followed my cohort through the door…

(to be continued)...

Bo(nnie)