This one year, we had gotten to the Black Party a little too early. It turned out to be fine though, we hadn't seen each other in a while and decided to grab a drink and go to an empty room upstairs and sit on the solitary couch in a back room.  We can both talk, talk a lot and so it went from travel to books to movies to mutual friends and art, relationships, memories and finally fabrics.  In great detail he starts telling me about the renovations of the vacation house and the new fabric for the old couch.  Two other people come in the room and settle into a dark corner.  More details about the fabric, we are really into it now.  I can see the shadow of a very large penis, really large, it appears to be out there alone, just erect and lit up. A few more people come in and the corner fills up, the large penis is gone and it appears that a large black mound has developed.  There wasn't a lot of sound, not even moaning. the only sound was us talking about the new fabric.  A few more guys come into the room and the mound becomes more recognizable as individual people.  We switch topics and start to discuss a mutual friend, some laughing and howling, keeping the ongoing conversation as if we are in my living room alone in the middle of the afternoon. Now there are several penises, out, long, white, being stroked, then being stroked hard.  Our conversation is disrupted by a booming grunt and we move slightly, but just in time as to not be hit by a spray of semen.  We decide to continue the conversation downstairs.  
      The Black party is over stimulation for someone who has attention deficit disorder, the sound and sights are not processed fast enough and something happens to your body.  Out of the corner of my eye i see three, maybe four albino skinheads anally invading one another and I could not help but to think at that moment that they resembled an Animal Planet documentary on mole rats.  At the bottom of the steps we face the stage, I think i heard Sandra Bernhardt finishing up a set then two gorgeous porn stars begin fucking onstage as the audience begins to applaud loudly.  We keep goin into the depths, i see my electrician, my high school math teacher, then a quick glance into one room i see a midget hanging onto a large black schlong, sort of swinging, but certainly enjoying himself. WE wern't on drugs and we wern't there to have sex, we were the minority.  As we attempted to move from one side of the dance floor to the other I run into a dear friend, who is painfully conservative and was visible out of place wearing just jeans and a button down shirt.  At that moment, several strippers were on stage, a constant hypnotic and rythmic beat filled the air and the strobe lights were prisoner to the same pulse - he said to me "this is exactly what I have always pictured hell to look like".  I felt a sense of relief thinking hell is sorta fun.