I considered throwing in the as yet unsoiled towel, but like Veruca Salt in the Chocolate Factory, I wouldn't be satisfied until I got what I wanted. Once inside, I gravitated toward an empty bar. Seeing as I was alone, I stripped down to nothing and took a look around. In the roughly four hours I wasted trying to get the game up and running, I could have signed on to Grindr, Tinder, Scruff or even walked 10 minutes to my local gay bar, picked up a flesh-and-blood human, done the deed, washed my ass and been in bed. I spent much of the next day at work searching for hardware requirements, tutorials, FAQs -- anything that could explain my experience. My encounters with role-playing games were similarly limited. My fantasies of a wild, open, no-strings orgy had turned into a clumsy, even humiliating, and desperate search for someone -- anyone -- to have sex with. As it turned out, the only dick I'd see would be my own. I'd had a handful of clumsy threesomes in college, but nothing compared to the wall-to-wall sex fest I had in mind. In minutes I was staring at a crude, 3D rendering of BuddyHudson, a name I gleaned from the copy of Jackie Collins' Hollywood Wives sitting on the coffee table in front of me. After about two hours of prep, I assumed I was ready for any and all of the digital dicks. As meg sang the praises of BuddyHudson's impressive member in a floating chat window, I hurried to connect my Onyx. I tried everything I could to back out of that corner on my own, but couldn't muster the courage to ask for help in the main chat room.