The theme for the October Soxster Party in Brisbane was Democracy Sausage Fest. We’ve had a lot democracy this month – State Elections in QLD, local elections in Victoria and the American Election. So we decided to celebrate erections – I mean elections. 🤪
I will post more pics shortly but thought you’d like this write up by a first time attendee. Enjoy!
*******
As the Uber pulled up to the traffic lights I felt my nerves finally start to set in. Just a slight quiver in my hands, but my mind knew I’d be okay. After all, I’ve been to things like this before. Little John’s parties at Kurwongbah were warm, welcoming, relaxed, and really felt like a safe oasis for people who ‘get it’ (‘it’ being that sex is fun, and a physical act, not a contract, not a promise, just a fun thing people do).
Hi, I’m Phil, early 30s guy, and last Tuesday I attended my first – of hopefully many – Soxster parties. Not a virgin, but I’m also not super experienced (at least by comparison to most of the gays I know). My issue being almost every hookup I’ve had was: through the door, drop the pants, immediate stimulation, try to climax, cya later (also why do so many guy not want to be kissed?!). Not really my cuppa tea, which is also why I’ve avoided the clubs too (I assume there’s similar expectations there).
That said, lately I have been feeling more sexually adventurous. In the past few months I’ve blown my first married man (wife consenting), had my first public sex, caged a twink, and got blown in my car. So when Soxster advertised his party on r/GayBrisbane I figured I’d jump at the chance.
Back to the uber ride there. I see crossing the road someone who just looked like they would be an attendee (dressed for comfort and ease of disrobing, carrying a small gym back). After I get out of the uber I hop on my phone to double check the detail. He walked up to door and dialed the room’s number. I was 100%, we’re going to the same party. After he gets buzzed through I ask “Room 511?”. “Yeah” And with that I follow him through to the elevators.
Approaching the door, I pace myself so that he will reach it first and do the knocking (yes, I am nervous and would rather not). We’re ushered in by a gentle giant, his warm voice greets me “Peter?”
“Phil actually” I correct him. “Peter’s my pseudonym”
Two guests are already there, and I introduce myself while Soxster and the guy I walked in with went to collect pizza. It’s always awkward meeting new people, but surprisingly it’s easier chatting to fellow degenerates (I say that lovingly). I say degenerates because surely we’ve all felt – at least a little bit – that common queer experience of either being rejected for our sexual proclivities, or at the very least had to overcome some level of stigma and shame about it.
As the minutes roll by more guests arrive, and it’s heartwarming to see the host greet people he knows, and newcomers alike. I settle into my usual icebreaking mode (i.e. trying desperately to be funny and earnest, to compensate for having less experience to share). I talk about some of my sexual history, my experiences at Little John’s, my kinkiest adventures to date, and an expression of what I hoped for going forward. “I don’t have much in terms of specific wants or desires. But I think I would be keen to help out and get involved.”
It’s a while past the nominal ‘start time’, and after a few minutes of discussing that fact one guest announced “well I’m ready to start”. Right there in the chat circle he starts stripping down. The rest of us applaud his boldness and followed suit.
Some people are going nude, others jock straps, one G-string, and a couple trunks. Before long I found myself being hands-on with two fellas. Caressing and exploring our bodies, feeling our backs, chests, arms, hips, and bums. Saying, without the need for words, “Hello, you are welcome here”. As the making out continues, Soxster comes by to check in and make sure I’m feeling okay. I’m feeling more than okay.
He offered me poppers. I explained I’d never tried them before . . . but sure! The smirk on his face at getting to help someone experience something new. He shotguns me the amyl, and I pay close attention to what I feel. A bit light headed, a little bit euphoric, but not overwhelming.
Some more making out before our triad goes to one of the bedrooms where three of the guys had already been hard at it.
One mounting and ploughing another while the third stood by enjoying (as I later found out, he’d already been bred thrice by the top).
I could try to give an encounter-by-encounter account of my evening. But that would be tiresome. So I’ll give some of memories I’ll cherish till my next chance to make some more:
• A guy with a pornstar physique (C) getting bent-over fucked, while making out with an absolutely stunning twink, as he himself was laying back on the bed also getting topped,
• Making a guy moan while squeezing his balls (he liked his balls abused),
• Getting to eat C’s ass. Another guy was getting ready to fuck him, when I asked if I could get a taste first. C said sure, but that he had already been topped a fair bit tonight so he’s full of lube. I confidently pronounced “I have been warned” before diving in to taste his sweet, silky smooth hole,
• Laying side-by-side with a guy as a third worked our cocks, overstimulating us, but in a good way that made us both twitch and groan,
• Plus spectating as people openly, freely sharing their sexuality,
• And of course the little chatting in between that somehow didn’t feel forced (can you tell I’m autistic yet?)
It got to about nine o’clock, and I was loosing my energy rapidly. Fortunately a few others were feeling the same so I didn’t feel awkward about wanting to leave. We were milling around, and I let Soxster know I was getting ready to leave. He protested “But you haven’t even had a chance to give me head properly”. I do love using my mouth, so we went to the couch, I got down on my knees, and began licking, kissing, worshipping his thick cock (nota bene: if I said I wanted to leave instead I trust that he wouldn’t mind at all, it was just a playful demand that lit up the obedient parts of my brain). As I worked his dick, I felt it grow, and as I slid my lips down it I tried my best to take it. It felt great to be there, servicing this man while others were around to watch – or not – as they saw fit. He released me from my duty and I continued to pack up.
On the way home I bump into another attendee taking the same train as me. As we ride home, we discuss the evening, our histories with Soxster, with Brisbane’s gay scene, with Brisbane’s gay sex scene (all while trying to be discrete in our choice of language). It is obvious that he feels about these parties the same way I do after just one night.
Soxster’s parties are a warm, open, earnest environment. Where we can come to a relaxed place to be ourselves, and connect with other likeminded people. In short, it feels like the sense of community that is truly rare to find in this day and age.