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There's a hand on my ass. And another on the back of my head.

Two more have taken up residence on the backs of my thighs, and I count three mouths - one on my own mouth, one on my dick, and one whose teeth are tugging aggressively on the ring in my right nipple. The left nipple is being tended to by yet another set of fingers.

And no: I'm not on the Uptown "E" train during rush hour. I'm having a play date.

Two more hands knead my hips and thighs; somehow, in the midst of this, I can still summon enough rudimentary math to realize one of these mitts has to have moved in from elsewhere, otherwise there's one extra, odd arm in the mix, and I don't recall any of the participants complaining of a run-in with threshing equipment or a combine. Of all the miscellaneous protruding parts at play, I am aware of at least two in my mouth and one in my ass at the moment, but unlike the cocks (of which I'm keeping better accounting records), I cannot be sure which are fingers and which are tongues; now there's one in each arm pit and yet another joining its pioneering partner up around back, so that just confuses the issue.

Delightfully so.

We're having a four-way on a friend's living room floor. And his sofa. And armchair. And ottoman, pillows, coffee table, and dining room chair. And I'm pretty sure a potted palm just got to third base with me when I switched positions (and presumably, partners) to light a cigarette and grab a sip of water.

When engaging in multi-way sexual encounters - three-ways, four-ways, and orgies of all numerical variety - one must remain acutely aware of what's going on. And really, whose head is whose, and did I just call this one by that other one's name, and shit - Dude, did you really just try to fuck me with my own shoe? - are not the most important details demanding your focus.

The politics are.

And whether they're demands or nuances, set in stone or just strongly suggested, the tastes and needs and, yes, the FEELINGS of the individual participants, are often as varied and unfamiliar to navigate as the participating bodies themselves.

In most cases, facts are facts and tops are tops and a guy who doesn't want to suck cock (yes, there are some) simply won't. Ordinarily, in a one-on-one encounter, you might be more indulgent of this stance, but when the room seems full of options and penises you pretty much get the notion yours can land safely in virtually any moist orifice. Not so. For the non-oral type, the situation becomes one of avoiding cock invasion from every angle. The corollary to this is the guy who doesn't want his own cock sucked and your attempts to do so can produce reactions ranging from frustrating perma-soft (an ego crusher to the expert cocksucker) to outright nastiness and admonishment. I have indeed had my head slapped on occasion.

There's usually one guy in the crowd determined to fuck. And unless you're interested in providing that service (why am I saying this like it's a BAD thing?), don't turn your back on him for a second (literally as much as figuratively) because you're going to find him knocking at your back door as he canvases the neighborhood for one that's unlocked and receptive.

And it can be tricky to figure out, even though you're all naked and taking one another in various, very personal, and often sticky ways, who may consider what other acts to be taboo. It's always odd, if not necessarily shocking, that a guy who will let you fuck his mouth considers taking your tongue to his to be over-the-top. The "Pretty Lady" rule of no kissing comes into play sometimes because of strangely drawn comfort zones. And just what may cross those boundaries is unpredictable: I recall a three-way in which one of the other men, a power bottom, emerged as being a regular fisting bottom as well. When my other cohort - after we'd double-penetrated the guy - asked if he wanted him to fist him, his response was "Nah... that's too intimate."

Two dicks in your boy-box is "OK... but will it turn you off if I nibble your ear and call you "Baby"?

And no sooner have you negotiated these often rough and tricky waters, there's the inevitability of politics giving way to chemistry, with certain pairings emerging as more heated, and certain sexual alliances being forged. Feelings can be hurt, and fantasies and hard-ons deflated.

While I am largely a fan of the multi-player mode, I admit to having found myself on both sides of that awkwardness (or all three sides, I should say). I remember one conversation when a former partner and I had a third come over to play. "Do you like to fuck, or get fucked?" I asked, during one brief moment alone with our playmate. "Both," he responded; and then dismissively he added, "but not with you." A while later, when a fourth joined us, it was as if the other two guys weren't even in the room. I don't think he even said "hello" to them before going to work on me. So not only did things even out, with sexual satisfaction for one and all, it also insured that both me and my boyfriend had something to bitch each other out for afterwards in addressing broken bonds and protocols. Another recurring three-way situation with the same boyfriend had to come to an end (and quietly on my part, to preserve my guy's feelings) when the other boy turned out to be interested only in me, and I felt his attempts at separating me from the herd were becoming truly divisive.

I think that was the session that taught me a valuable lesson in my sex life: in three ways, always be the outsider.

I was involved in a group play session not too long ago that had me and a fuck buddy finding a third who wanted it really rough and nasty. Now my friend is a total sweetheart, so he wasn't prepared for this new kid's style; me, I go into Top Daddy mode by default if I'm really turned on by a young guy. But we seemed to spend the whole time, my friend and I, worrying about paying enough attention to our guest, paying the kind of attention he wanted, and making sure each of us was respecting the other's right to his own fair share. So Chris had to worry about being too tender; I worried I wasn't connecting in a touchy-feely sort of way; But our little piggy cried, "Wee, wee, wee", all the way home, having gotten his desired dose of heavy twink-on-twink make-out mixed with my verbal humiliation and choking him to near passing out.

Another game night had me as one of three single guys teamed up with a couple. The five of us talked dirty long enough to insure everyone was horny as hell, but then the odd New Math took hold: A and B were long-familiar; C (that's me!) had been with both A and B, together and separately, as well as D; E was new to both C and D (and boy were we eager to tap that), but had been involved primarily with A one-on-one and then introduced into multiple three-ways with A and B. D and E did not hit it off, so B felt it his duty to entertain D while A, C and E went to town. However C and E, much to the consternation of the very possessive A, really hit it off - and when the now-unhappy A returned to his partner, B, for the lion's share of his attention, he was further miffed to find D already almost inextricably engaged with B; ultimately D felt he'd run out of options when B dutifully switched to servicing A for the sake of maintaining the peace in their broader, day-to-day relationship, and C and E continued to sing love duets and fuck on a pile of Crate & Barrel catalogs opened to the Couples Registry section, virtually unaware of anything or anyone else around them.

Hard to follow? Try doing it with an ass full of lube and snoot full of poppers.

What this little algebraic nightmare illustrates is that the pairings and reactions can be numerous and exhausting. But if you're careful - and more than that, hyper-aware of your own actions and the desires (both explicit and implicit) of the others with whom you're playing - you can eventually learn a sort of organic rhythm that will help you negotiate these tricky team-play scenarios more effectively and more passionately.

Nothing kills a good boner more quickly than sudden mental images of your Mom on the toilet, besides stress; so the next time a group situation presents itself and all systems are go, just treat yourself and the other players with respect and an open mind. If you remember the basic rule that everyone wants and deserves a shot at being satisfied, then group play - whether a three-way, four-way, or more-way - can be an absolutely mind- and load-blowing experience unequaled by anything else in your personal sexual history.

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Cas Because, Nancela: I'm sure your Creator had just this design in mind for you... and that it's PERFECT. But we do have a lot of (often pantsless) fun; and that's perfect too.
Nancela Why wasn't I born a gay man?

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