After all, Eostre is all about rebirth.ġ0:26 p.m.
#GAY SEX PARTIES AMATEUR VIDEO TUMBLR CODE#
The dress code for Saturday night was “your sexiest Easter outfit,” so, in a nod to Gloria Steinem, I put on a skimpy dress, a pair of bunny ears, and, sensing the party might be less gay than I’m used to, called up my closest straight guy friend (okay, fine - sometimes we make out like Saynt, I’m supportive of providing space for bisexuals) to join me on the hunt.
“I wanted a place where I could fuck my girlfriend and suck my boyfriend’s cock at the same time.” Everybody better be flexible! “I came out as bisexual then realized there wasn’t really spaces for bisexuals,” he says. Saturday’s party was also to celebrate the launch of the club’s own coin, $LOVER, cashing into crypto like everyone else with ambitions to become “like WeWork but WeFuck.” (Why didn’t Adam Neumann think of that?) Its origins were smaller and more personal. He tells me the NSFW currently has more than 8,000 paying members and apparently accepts just 5 percent of applicants, evaluated (as when your child is applying for one of those elite private preschools) on 14 points of attractiveness. It’s a testament to my lifestyle.” Saynt, who calls himself the NSFW’s “chief conspirator,” is not the only one practicing this bi-positive, poly-positive, kink-friendly - here’s that word - lifestyle. The NSFW was founded in 2015 by the former fashion executive Daniel Saynt, a handsome 39-year-old who, when I compliment him, responds, “It’s scientifically proven: The more sex you have, the younger you look. The night would involve, per the description, a couple of hours of mingling, a late-night performance, and, of course, the … climax(es). Tickets for nonmembers were $149 ( Harper’s Bazaar once called the NSFW the “SoulCycle of Sex” millennials, as we are always told, prefer to spend their money on “experiences”). Eostre was being hosted by NSFW (that would be the New Society for Wellness), which advertises itself as a “private social club for the open and adventurous” and feels more fancy than sleazy. Bunnies, eggs and chickies are a common sign of this equinox celebration” - in other words, all things I’d never really associated with the idea of a sex party, which for me calls to mind dank basements, a decidedly mixed cast of too-handsy men, and a certain smell I’d rather not describe but which is often difficult to get out of your clothing. A celebration for the return of the sun, the festival is noted for signs of birth. Last week, I stumbled across a weirder-than-usual invite for a sex party called Eostre, which read, “Long before Easter became synonymous with the return of Christ, it was the festival of Eostre, a Germanic goddess of the dawn.