One track mind

A couple days ago I went to a sex club.  I won't actually be talking about the sex though, because the non sex stuff was actually more interesting.  It revealed some things about my brain, and made me wonder if other people are like me in this way.  I don't actually know!

Part of the evening was an icebreaker event to get people comfortable and mixing it up.  This is a great feature for me because while the idea of sexing up a bunch of hot randoms at a club sounds fun, I know a lot of women get approached way too much in these situations and I don't want to be *that guy* who makes things shitty for them.  Having a structured way to get familiar with people is ideal for me.

The first icebreaker was sock wrestling.  Two people get a sock each, put on that sock, and then wrestle.  The winner is the one who gets the other person's sock off first.  Of course being a sex club the crowd ranged from people wearing something to people wearing nothing, so the potential for sexyness was high.  I, of course, was naked, because fuck clothes.

The organizer started it up, and she challenged us, asking who would wrestle her.  A woman about the same size stepped in and they fought.  The organizer won convincingly, through a combination of raw athleticism, aggressiveness, and practice.  Then she asked for more people to wrestle, and naturally I waved my hand about.  Pick me, pick me!  Ooh, ooh, pick me!

She picked me.

I was the tallest and strongest one there by a fair margin, so I wanted to be the first into the ring.  If someone was going to fight me, I wanted them to know what they were getting into.  A woman immediately stepped forward to fight me.  She was pretty average in size, but she gave me a 'IMMA CRUSH YOU FOOL' look that made me optimistic that this would be a good fight.  Also she was super hot, both because she was conventionally attractive, but additionally because her aesthetic was exactly my style.

But her attractiveness and nudity had no effect on me.  Normally in this sort of situation I would be wound right up, incredibly sensitive to any touch.  I would be acutely aware of exactly how we touched, and every nerve would be trembling, waiting to fire.  Not this time.  The only thing in my brain was the desire to compete, to fight, to strive for victory.  The organizer said go, and we rushed each other without hesitation.

It became instantly clear that my opponent was fast, strong, and flexible.  Also she wasn't holding back in the slightest, and neither was I.  Normally if you ask me 'hey, did you touch a boob in that situation?' I can tell you *exactly* how much I touched a boob.  The fucking memory is seared into my brain.  In this case I have no idea.  We were wrestling for a little while so I probably touched lots of things, but I couldn't tell you what they were at all - my brain was entirely occupied with winning.  That what we were doing might be sexy didn't exist; it was eclipsed by the struggle.

She was faster and more agile than me, but I had a large reach, mass, and strength advantage, and I ripped her sock off without allowing her to get to mine.  She kipped up easily, demonstrating that agility, and I shook her hand and said "Good fight."  Afterwards we talked about it, and she seemed really happy that she had a real challenge, as that was why she immediately volunteered to fight me.  We were both pleased that it was tough and close - losing wouldn't have bothered me, but I wanted a challenge, and I wanted an opponent who was able to take my best efforts, and I got that.

*Then* I got horny, and unbridled desire set in.  Other people wrestled, but only had limited attention to pay.  Hot is great and all, but combine that with physical competence and a "I will fight you, no matter how big you are!" attitude?  Ker Pow.

But there was more icebreaking to come.

Twister is a thing children do at parties.  Also a really solid icebreaker for mostly naked adults.  During round 1 I got bumped out fairly quickly, as you tend to when there are 10 people on a twister board.  On the final round though I managed to hang in there until it was just me and the organizer left, and she made it her mission to get me out.  You can do this in twister by just hanging out on your end of the board and trying to win via physical supremacy... or you can get in right on top of the other person and make it interesting.  Also sexy.

I am not particularly good at twister.  My flexibility is suspect, though my reach does help.  But I am bloody determined, and I managed to stay in despite the fire in my muscles ramping higher and higher.  My opponent decided to make things more difficult for me by distracting me, so she ground herself against my leg and rubbed her breasts on me.

I noted the grinding and touching, and thought that she was doing a good job, getting the crowd into it, and making sure the people were entertained.  But it had no effect on me.  I was going to WIN.  I even thought "Well, I will remember this fondly later, once the match is over."  My legs were twitching with strain and I could feel that I was not going to be able to continue - it was becoming too much. 

Finally things came to an end.  She was underneath me, both of us all tied up like pretzels, when she just lifted her body up, hoisting me off the ground a little, and my hands lost contact.  Game over dude!  Whether or not she was cheating by the official rules of Twister I don't know, but I was happy to accept the end of the game either way.  I told her I was glad to lose because I was about to die and stumbled off.  I spent the next hour struggling to walk because my leg muscles were too beat, so I am glad it didn't go longer.

Now in retrospect that was hot as fuck.  But at the time?  Ice cold.  No reaction.  I think for some people that would be expected but I am the horniest man alive - that old silly stereotype of men thinking about sex every 5 minutes makes me go "Hah, amateurs."  But when competition is in the offing, that totally shuts down and the only thing I think about is striving for victory.

It isn't the winning that I aim for though.  It is attempting to win.  Pushing myself as hard as I can go.  Running to the edge of my capabilities.  Win or lose, the key is to play with all you have.  That is where the greatest joy is found.

Winning is nice and all, don't get me wrong.  It just isn't the key to capturing my brain like intense competition is.

I suspect most people are happy being partly in each world.  Sexy games can be fun because you are both playing a game and flirting, doing each in part.  But I don't do halfways like that.  If I am competing, that is the only thing I am doing.  If I am having sex, that is the only thing I am doing.  Straddling the line between those worlds is not a thing I do.

This has a lot to do with my divided mind.  Director can multitask to some extent - usually trying to accomplish something while worrying about other things.  Passion though?  He does only one thing.  Nothing else even exists.  While I was wrestling and twisting I was totally Passion.  Doing exactly one thing with all my focus.

Maybe if I ever go back to work I will skip sales and go straight to organizing sexy events.  Getting paid to play naked twister seems like a pretty sweet gig to me.