The moment I knew… I loved gangbangs
Breakups often bring with them a moment of clarity and perspective. For Tristan Greer*, that moment came in the form of a sauna room gangbang. He describes how he discovered his love of group sex
At 26, I came out of a monogamous long-distance relationship when my girlfriend cheated on me with her female best friend. It was her first time with a woman, and though heartbroken, I realised that if unexplored desires could bottle up and explode to hurt people in that way, then I should use my newfound freedom for some long overdue exploration of my own sexuality.
I knew I wasn’t 100% straight – I’d always enjoyed gay porn and had drunkenly dabbled with a few men over the years, but they were sporadic, awkward one-offs. I’d never truly discovered what I enjoyed, or even confirmed that it was a part of myself I wanted to indulge more frequently.
Though I had been in London for over a year, my breakup suddenly revealed an uncharted world of queer superclubs, sex-positive parties, saunas and dungeons on my doorstep.
About two weeks after the breakup, I was on the tube home from some unremarkable work drinks when the impulse came over me to throw caution to the wind and try a sauna. Best case scenario, I could experiment with some guy I’d never see again. Worst, I could relax in a jacuzzi and steam room and head home fresh.
Having stripped down to a towel, I began a tour of the labyrinthine corridors with rows of “bedrooms,” steam room, hot tub, shower, sauna, porn room, in a liminal space between horny excitement and acute trepidation. Naked bodies came and went and glances were exchanged in semi-darkness.
After a dip in the hot tub, almost resigned to heading home shortly, I crossed paths in the hallway with a guy who was exactly my type. He was about 6’4”, broad-shouldered and muscly, with a chiselled jaw. We locked eyes and approached each other, and I found myself fluttering my eyelids and glancing down nervously at the bulge beneath his towel.
I’d always battled a lot of internalised homophobia, as I grew up in a small working-class town with old-fashioned ideas of masculinity and little to no queer visibility. Naturally, my tendency not only to be attracted to men, but to envisage myself as a bottom, had always been shrouded in shame and confusion.
But as we entered one of the private booths and shut the door, and he pinned me to the wall and kissed me, my insecurities began melting away. I placed my hands on his pecs, pushed my hips towards him to let him grab my arse, and started to feel sexy and self-assured in an unfamiliarly sultry and exhilarating way.
He guided me to my knees and I took him in my mouth, surprising myself with my confidence, and soon thereafter the condoms and lube were retrieved and I was on my hands and knees on the leather bed in front of him (though we had to try several positions to get started on account of his...ahem…heft).
Once I had acclimatised and he really got going, it was as though some inner demon I’d kept locked down for a decade or more came bursting free in a blaze of glory. I was insatiable, and the pleasure was more intense than anything I had ever experienced.
During one position change, I realised that we’d left the door ajar after the condom run and had drawn a few onlookers. He glanced back and forth mischievously and seemed to be asking if I wanted to invite anyone in.
I picked out the two I most fancied and they stepped inside, and before I had time for self-doubt, I was on my back with my feet over the first guy’s shoulders, the other two kneeling either side of my face as I alternated between mouth and hand.
The first guy then flipped over so they could rotate with one at each end, taking turns on me from behind, until they all finished on my face and chest, at my eager request. The guys thanked me, complimented me, and went their separate ways.
Far from the expected “what have I done?” self-loathing I had felt after some previous encounters, a light-headed peace washed over me once it was all done and I was showering off. The stigma and guilt had been stripped away.
I’d learned so much about what I liked, some of which surprised even me, and felt like a whole world had opened up before me in the realisation that both having and enjoying sex with men was no longer something I felt the need to confine to my laptop.
Part of the thrill was that in this environment, the side of my sexuality that I had long tried to suppress was not just accepted, but celebrated, in-demand, and I could indulge it without any emotional complications.
It also instilled a belief in trying anything and everything I had been curious about, without fear of judgment. I didn’t want to make being gangbanged a habit necessarily, but I began dating men more openly, and seeking female partners who would embrace my newly confirmed bisexuality – or better yet, find it attractive.
At my friend’s advice, I switched my dating app channels to the likes of Feeld and Fet, where I would meet like-minded queer, kinky people, and soon discovered a proclivity for bisexual threesomes and groups.
Along with the endless positional possibilities, I find it intensely liberating, as a bisexual man who spent much of my life in a heteronormative cage, to share and enjoy men alongside women in a supportive setting in which everyone’s desires are validated and celebrated.
There is nothing more arousing than knowing an attractive woman derives pleasure from seeing and experiencing that side of myself that was unleashed by jumping in at the deep end several years ago. As well as helping me discover what I already suspected about my sexuality, I feel like it opened the door to a sexual Narnia I have been exploring ever since.
*name has been anonymised