The big cuddly puddle

Jörn Valldorf

Our author's move to Berlin was the fulfilment of a lifelong dream: to lead a bold sex life. Here he tells us how he tried things that were not possible in his hometown in southern Germany.

 

Shortly after my arrival, a friend told me that I absolutely had to take a look at the Village's programme. The Village defines itself as a community centre in Berlin for gay, bisexual, trans and queer men. A place where it is possible to meet with yourself and others in an open and appreciative atmosphere. The programme ranges from yoga and mediation courses to film evenings and many non-sexual but very physical activities such as massage or a cuddle puddle.

 

Cuddle-puddle - I got stuck on this word. In English, "cuddle" means to cuddle and "puddle" means a large, non-sexual, group cuddle. The description of this offer spoke of the possibility of satisfying the need for touch, closeness and warmth. That sounds kind of interesting, I thought. Prejudices immediately popped into my head:

 

Surely only guys who can't get anyone else or guys who are completely lonely and unable to have a relationship go there? Or guys like me who actually want more but don't have the confidence? And what if I'm the oldest, the fattest, the one nobody wants to cuddle with? What if I end up lying alone in a corner?

 

But my curiosity was greater. I couldn't let go of the idea. I even found myself reading the course description so often that I could almost memorise it.

 

So I nervously made my way to the Village on a Tuesday evening in September last year. My level of excitement reminded me of my very first visit to a gay bar shortly after coming out. As I entered the premises in a courtyard in Kurfürstenstraße, my heart was pounding. I opened the heavy iron door and stood in a very large, bright room.

 

The scent of incense reached my nose and the soft sounds of music reached my ears. I began to relax. I was greeted warmly by Ian*, the host, who also led the evening. But my relaxation was short-lived. Because as I looked around, they were back: my fears and self-doubt. None of the men looked the way I had imagined them in my head. Instead, there were great, interesting men in their mid-twenties to mid-fifties standing in front of me. There definitely wasn't one of them that I wouldn't want to cuddle with.

 

Finally, the 25 men took their seats on soft mats on the floor. The evening's host, Ian, welcomed us once again and explained the main rules. The most important: everyone is responsible for themselves and looks after themselves and is mindful of others. To make it easier for us to get to know each other, we started with a very quick round of introductions - our names and a feeling that was currently dominating us. I introduced myself: "I'm Jörn and I'm excited."

 

This is my first time here, I have no idea what to do.

We continued with a short breathing meditation. Breathe in, breathe out, let thoughts come and then let them go again. That worked quite well. This was followed by a partner exercise. We were asked to get together in pairs and sit cross-legged opposite each other. The aim was to feel what kind of touch the other person needs, what might be good for them and what they don't want. I grabbed Lucas, whose name is actually different, the person sitting next to me. I just managed to whisper to him: "I'm here for the first time, I have no idea what to do." Then I felt his warm hands in mine.

 

A slight pressure, a pause, a release and a gentle placement of his hands, this time on my shoulders. Trembling timidly, I placed my hands on his chest. I felt his chest rise and fall. At some point, I was lying there on my back, my head in his hands, when a gong interrupted the silence. "Time for a little break," Lucas whispered in my ear.

 

I spent the break with a cup of tea and my eyes wandered restlessly around the room. There was a relaxed, familiar atmosphere between those present. The men seemed to know each other. "So, first time here?" someone who introduced himself as Timo asked me. "Er... yes," I stammered.

 

"So, what do you think?"

"I don't know yet, I think well," I said.

"Well, wait for the second part".

 

The gong sounded again. Everyone sat in a circle again. Ian now explained how to proceed. Those of us who wanted to should now simply lie down in the centre and find a position in which they felt comfortable. Then the next person was to dock on and so on until we all merged into one huge cuddle puddle.

 

My inner voice spoke up again. I could already see myself forming the sad end of this puddle. Leave or stay? Lucas seemed to be able to read my thoughts. "I'm going to lie down next, come and join me." My decision was made. I stayed and slowly crawled towards Lucas.

 

The situation reminded me of the moment before falling asleep: Where to put my arms? Bend my knees? I jerked myself upright and closed my eyes. A short time later, my back felt warm and I felt someone else's breath tickling the back of my neck. I was actually being cuddled. But not just from behind. I felt hands on me from all sides. A strange knee slid between mine. A hand gently tousled my hair. Ian's soft voice rang out, asking us to check whether we were still okay or what we wanted to change. The huge puddle of cuddles started to move as if remote-controlled. Like a gentle wave, arms, legs and hands moved to reconnect with the men around us.

 

I would have loved to see the puddle from above - the puddle of 25 men, older, thinner, thicker, muscular and bearded. They all looked happy as they lay there, melting into each other. Just when I thought it could go on forever, Ian's voice rang out, urging us to return to the here and now. Everyone at their own pace. We gathered in a circle again. The initial ritual was repeated. Everyone was asked to say how they felt. The men used words like energised, content or relaxed. When it was my turn, I said: happy. And I was.