Someone gave me a “Butt Rocket” and didn’t ask my permission. I was sent me to the Emergency Room with severe hallucinations.
By: Fisher in LA
Some parties are not worth it.
Early last year, I met a guy with a hookup app and we became sort of close. We weren’t boyfriends or anything like that – more like friends with benefits plus an emotional connection. We were still in the, “Oh, we’re just friends stage,” when people would see us together.
Jim is really very hot. If I had to describe him, he resembles that muscle otter actor, Jake McDorman from TV but has green eyes instead of blue. He’s 28, well built, hairy and has everything in the “package” department a guy could want if you get my drift.
It’s hard me to describe what I look like because I don’t want to come off as arrogant. I’m 29 and have been told I look a bit like that bro country singer, Sam Hunt when I don’t shave.
Once in a while when we hooked up, we would party with 420 and invite a third. Like I mentioned earlier, we weren’t exclusive and didn’t call ourselves boyfriends – our arrangement our close but casual.
So one April morning, he texted me and asked if I wanted to hang out. I still have his electronic message on my smartphone.
“Hey stud, let’s get together? I’ve got tickets for White Party. A friend of mine has a hotel room we can crash at. We should check it out. Bring your Andrew Christian’s.”
If you are a gay man, you know that white party is all about music, dancing and seeing super-hot guys all muscled up. And yes, party drugs are often part of the mix.
Call me silly I decided to go, even though a little voice inside me told me this wasn’t a good idea. I had been working out hard at the gym over the past year and felt reasonably good about my body, which isn’t always the case. Plus, I had a few vacation days that needed to be used. I figured why not.
So he picked me up later that afternoon and we made the 2 hour drive from Santa Monica to Palm Springs. He had passes for a few of the events, including a pool party and the “White Underwear Party”.
We made our rounds that first night and had a lot of fun. When it came time crash, we stayed in his buddy’s hotel room – a nice place at one of those gay resorts along Warm Sands.
The next day was all about getting ready for the big event – the Saturday night marquee event … White Party. It’s kind of a big deal because guys wear some of the most outlandish costumes to this dance.
Not that we were going to do anything crazy but we did go someplace and get a few temporary tattoos put on our bods, plus a little fashion glitter just for laughs.
The dance itself was lots of fun. And believe it or not, I didn’t do any drugs. No “X”, no “G” and certainly not any crystal meth. In fact, I didn’t even drink. With all the dancing, loud music and general stimulation, the most I wanted was water. You see, I don’t really do get into party favors. It’s just not my thing. Some guys do. I’m not judging.
So after the dance, which pretty much ended at dawn, we decided to call it quits and head back to our crash pad on Warm Sands road. When we got to the room, there were a couple of guys in there hanging out. Apparently, they were friends of Jim’s buddy – the guy who had rented the place.
I won’t bore you with tons of details here except to say that all of these guys were hot. Before I knew it, we were all messing around and having a really good time. I can remember Jim saying to me, “See Fisher, I told you this would be fun.”
And if truth be told it was fun – until it wasn’t.
I was going down this really cute tatted up jock sitting in a corner chair while someone was behind me, playing with my butt. Jim was on the bed, riding another guy like a cowboy. There must have been seven of us in the room total? I don’t remember.
Booty Bump – Here's What Happened
Anyway, while I doing my thing to the guy on the chair, another guy behind me was spending a lot of time using his finger on my behind. I figured he was trying to loosen me up. I know he rimmed me for a bit. At some point, I felt his entire index finger go way deep inside of me.
“You are going to feel real good now man. Just wait for it to kick in. I promise, you will love it.”
Call me stupid but my first thought was that he was getting ready to top me. The guy was extremely endowed and was built like an Adonis.
After about 15-minutes, I knew exactly what he was talking about.
While he was lying on the floor and bouncing on him, he told me that he had given me a “booty bump”. I was angry at first but figured there was nothing I could do about it. “Haven’t you ever had a butt rocket before man?” he said while my eyes rolled into my skull.
It seemed like everyone in that room was going at it for hours. By the time it ended, you could see the sun starting to set to the west – over the big mountain you see driving down Ramon Road.
After the group disbanded, I was a complete mess. My heart was palpitating super-fast and I was starting to wig out a bit. As time went on, I also became extra paranoid. For some reason, I had it in my mind that bugs were inside of my skin, crawling around and burrowing into my veins.
I began to panic.
What happened next is a bit fuzzy to me but apparently, Jim had grown very concerned over my behavior. He drove me to the hospital and took me straight into the emergency room. I guess I had started to seriously hallucinate.
The doctors evaluated me and said that I had been experienced a methamphetamine overdose. The guy who did it to me gave me multiple “bumps” from what I was told.
And then there was the “shot-gunning” that happened. I was so high that I had forgotten people were using pipes and kissing one another, passing smoke back and forth. Guess who was doing that? Me, Jim and the rest of the group.
So the most the doctor could do was help me stay calm, feed me fluids through an IV and give me a mild sedative. They had seen this type of thing in the past over White Party weekend and I have to say they didn’t make me feel judged.
I ended up staying at the hospital that night for observation. The nurses had me on diazepam, which kept me relaxed and able to get some shut-eye.
The next day I was released mid-day and Jim picked me up. The party was most certainly over.
He looked like hell and I could tell he had hardly slept. Apparently, he too was still feeling the effects from our time in that hotel room and was pretty out of it. We decided to drive 30 miles or so out of Palm Springs and rent a cheap hotel room to crash.
When we got to the room, he passed out almost immediately. I was left sitting on the bed with him next to me, watching really bad reruns of Mary Tyler Moore and the Golden Girls. At least they were comforting. At some point, I fell asleep too after taking a sleeping pill the doctor had prescribed.
I remember that next morning Jim and I woke up and had hot sex. I don’t know why we did but it just happened. Was it the release of crazy energy that had built up from all that had happened? I really don’t know.
When we got back to Santa Monica, I kind of cut things off with him. I certainly take responsibility for my part about what happened and am not blaming Jim at all. But I did find out from a few people later on that he partied with crystal more than he claimed.
I just don’t have time for that kind of crap in my life.
So the moral of this story is that I’ve learned my lesson. No more group hookups for me. I’m more of a one on one guy anyway with a third sprinkled in to keep things interesting – but no more groups.
And absolutely no drugs. Oh and yeah – no more White Parties.
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