Читать книгу Behind the Mask: Enter a World Where Women Make - and Break - the Rules - Emma Sayle - Страница 7

‘Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.’

Mark Twain

The real world was an unpleasant experience after the high jinks of university. I had no idea what to do next and I drifted to London, where I shared a flat with a friend and looked for a job. I worked for the Independent newspaper selling advertising space, but I hated the targets, the pressure and the long hours trying to convince people to spend money. It was a relief when I managed to get into financial and entertainment PR, but even though this was a bit better, I had no real interest in using my feminine assets to build superficial relationships with clients, or in writing fluffy press releases about celebrity parties or products I didn’t give a toss about. It was a job, though, and it brought me into contact with lots of different worlds where surely I’d find new opportunities. At times I was asked to represent people and businesses in the adult industry, and I went to a couple of those big trade fairs held at Earls Court or Olympia and saw what a huge business sex could be. Hundreds of stalls sold thousands of products and mountains of equipment, or offered myriad services from sex parties to fetish gatherings. I was awed by how much was on offer but surprised that the whole thing appeared to be run by men. Women were used in advertising, of course, and some businesses claimed to be female friendly, but the truth seemed to be that it was all aimed at men. I’d seen porn movies while at university, and my girlfriends and I had agreed that, for us, it just wasn’t sexy. All that bright light, the massive penises and the endless pounding, anatomical action where the woman was not much more than a collection of willing orifices, taking it all in while she groaned in fake ecstasy – it was not a turn on. If anything, it was the opposite. And yet Sex and the City was causing a new sexual revolution, showing women in control of their sexuality and pursuing what they wanted in life, without shame or judgement. The message was that we could be in control of sex, enjoy it and not be judged for promiscuity. But none of that was reflected in the adult world as far as I could see. I believe in equal rights for women, and the truth is, male-dominated porn just doesn’t work for our differently wired brains.

Then one day I got the call that was set to change my entire life. In her quest to find a rich man, my old friend Miss D had started working for one of the most successful wedding planners in the world. From chartered jets to private islands, couture gowns and 10-tiered cakes, nothing was impossible for Miss Wedding Planner.

I was bored with city life and my job, lonely and missing Aidan. The call could not have come at a better time.

‘It’s rainy, dark and miserable in London. You are so bored, Ems, stuck in that office. Come and have some fun with me,’ Miss D wheedled.

‘I’m a responsible adult now,’ I replied matter-of-factly. ‘I have a job, press releases to write, important meetings lined up. I have commitments.’ I looked around the bleak, climate-controlled office. Colleagues slouched in their chairs. Some were furiously tapping away on their keyboards. Others stared blankly at their computers pretending to be busy. Sedentary work was sapping the life out of each and every one of us.

‘Well, be irresponsible for once. Get out of that bunker and take a sickie. Just for a couple of days? Please, Ems?’

‘I’m not sure … It’s not exactly going to help my career if I’m caught.’

‘Do it for me,’ she pleaded. ‘There’s a seat on a private jet leaving London and taking us to Ibiza tonight for the most amazing wedding you’ll ever see. That seat has your name written all over it.’

How can anyone resist an invitation like that?

Before our jet took off, I sent a text to my boss telling her I had food poisoning and not to expect me in the office. It was a lie that caused me a frisson of guilt, but I didn’t regret it. Instead, I felt alive again as we stepped off the jet and were chauffeured to a private villa on the beach for a party to celebrate the wedding of Mr Filthy Rich and Miss Socialite that was taking place the next day.

I knew it would be a smart, glamorous party and I expected a hedonistic vibe, but I could never in my wildest fantasies have imagined what was going on inside those doors. Apart from the music and the ocean, the only sounds I could hear were of total ecstasy as Miss D and I stepped inside the villa. The party was already in full swing. Inside there were around 200 beautiful guests, most completely naked, some wearing glittering eye masks.

Mesmerized, I gratefully accepted a glass of Dom Perignon champagne as I took in my lavish surroundings and the erotic events unfolding before my eyes. It was like a scene from Eyes Wide Shut: naked people were everywhere, their bodies entirely exposed in every state of arousal. There were couples exploring each other, groups meshed together as one. This was a real-life masked secret society that indulged in ritual orgies, but unlike in Eyes Wide Shut, there was no jealousy, revenge or obsessiveness, and there was no sense of exploitation or shame.

I was drawn to the most exquisite moans coming from deep inside the house. Hypnotized, my heart sprinting, the air rushing from my lungs, I searched for where these whimpers of delight were coming from and was led to a glossy white kitchen. There, sprawled on the granite top, was a world-famous actress. She was naked, gazing dreamily and utterly ravishing. The clinical white of the kitchen would highlight any blemish, but she was flawless, looking just as perfect in real life as on her alluring glossy magazine covers, apart from her cheeks flushing with colour when she groaned with pleasure. A man’s fingers were deep inside her and the scent of her arousal filled the room. Every time she moaned, the man responded by pressing deeper while massaging her clitoris with his other hand, evidently delighting her when he did. Then, the man withdrew his fingers, stepped back to admire her tiny waist, the erect nipples and her luscious lips before sliding his huge erection into her. Both of them began to moan and gasp with pleasure as he picked up pace. Soon he was plunging deep and frantic, like an animal possessed. For someone who looked so fragile and tender, this actress could keep up with her suitor, taking all he could give and begging for more. Her sexual appetite obviously had no bounds and soon they were both shouting and crying out as he thrust harder, deeper and faster, until eventually he shuddered on top of her, and she finally climaxed around him. But almost at once, she seemed ready to go all over again. As he withdrew, 10 hungry, handsome men patiently waited their turn, their eyes flaming with desire, all totally focused on the glamorous woman sprawled out naked for them to enjoy. Meanwhile, she made her sexual desire look erotic and totally captivating. This fiercely talented and acclaimed actress was no porn star looking for a world record for having sex with the most partners in one day. She was taking her time, relishing her sexual desire, loving every second of her time on stage, albeit a granite kitchen top.

‘Have you been outside?’ an attractive, naked brunette whispered in my ear, smiling as I nodded no. ‘Follow us,’ she added, as she walked off outside with a fine specimen of a man close behind her.

Curious, I left the actress to her pleasure and followed the brunette outside. On the beach, guests were dancing around a huge bonfire, some in designer underwear, some in bikinis and some naked. All of them were grinding, smiling and moving like the stars above us, twinkling like flames in the night sky. The waves rolled in and drenched people making love on the sand, revelling in the atmosphere of lust and passion. This type of lovemaking is normally forbidden – but why, when all these guests looked so happy? I was turned on, but I didn’t want to join in. I was happy just watching and soaking it all in.

Later, I saw the actress again. I froze. She looked fresh-faced and innocent as she danced around the fire in a fuchsia-and-violet toucan-printed maxi dress with a white orchid blooming in her hair. The bride and groom were by her side. Captivated by her all over again, I watched her laugh, chat and sip champagne with her two friends, who were going to become man and wife on this very beach the following day. She casually slipped her hand inside the bride’s top and tenderly kissed the groom. Her cheeks began to flush with colour once again and her nipples tightened through her dress as she teased them both. This time, though, she wanted somewhere more private as she smiled and pointed to a luxury super-yacht in the distance. She giggled as the bride and groom chased her across the moonlit beach towards the huge pleasure boat.

It was pretty obvious what was going to unfold once the threesome climbed on board.

Miss D may not have found the rich husband she wanted, but I spotted her lying on the wet sand in a passionate embrace with a man, sharing in the amazing laissez-faire atmosphere.

The morning after, the guests sat outside in the sun, recovering and drinking Bloody Marys. People were idly discussing who had got with whom in a relaxed way that showed just how normal it was for this glamorous, hedonistic crowd to indulge in their pleasures.

‘I guess we killed a lot of kittens last night,’ said one man. When I asked what he meant, he told me that, according to a well-known US college joke, whenever someone masturbated, God killed a kitten. The joke had escalated so that any orgasm now had the same result. The table laughed, and so did I. Little did I know what a role those words would play in my life …

I was amazed and liberated by what I had seen in Ibiza. All the hidden furtiveness of sex, all the embarrassment and shame so many of us associated with what was supposed to be a pleasure – it didn’t have to be like that. It could be given and taken with joy. In an atmosphere of security and happiness, sex could be shared with one or with many, with true and exquisite abandonment, and without fear.

I had loved seeing women relish their sexuality and the pleasure they could both give and receive.

Then it hit me, catching me totally off-guard. My mind was made up: the minute I got back to London I was quitting my PR job and setting up my own business. I would bring this beautiful, joyous experience to others through elite parties where anything was allowed.

I had never been more sure of anything.