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Lesbians having sex at a party


Skirt Club promoters hired me, a queer woman and professional Dominatrix, Lesbians having sex at a party attend and bring my submissive, Chloe, who is also my girlfriend. To undress her, tie her up, and spank her.

In college, I crushed hard on a girl who professed her love for me in private while walking hand-in-hand with her blissfully unaware boyfriend across campus.

So, despite the lesbian sex show I was hired to put on for a bunch of straight or perhaps closeted women, I was determined to have a good time for myself. With these scenarios in mind, I was determined not "Lesbians having sex at a party" perform at Skirt Club.

I was determined, instead, to have a scene. A performance is meant to titillate. And a scene is meant for pleasure — ours. Parties, couples, and individuals hire me to fulfill their kinky fantasies. Often, my fantasies overlap with those of my clients. Blindfold a dude, tie him up, and make out with his gorgeous wife? Dress as Rachel Maddow, turn on the news to Trump destroying America, and kick a guy in the balls?

Better workday than sitting behind a desk. I instructed Chloe to keep her eyes closed. I tied her hands to a spreader bar hung from the ceiling, watched her breathing get shallow, felt her pulse quicken. I flogged her, choked her, teased her. You could almost hear the panties drop. I was as curious about them as they were about lesbian sex. The price of curiosity is steep: Cis women submit profiles for vetting before they are permitted to purchase a ticket. That vetting process includes sexual orientation.

After an hour at the party, I wondered if I would have been invited if I were not for hire. I am, to be sure, a Kinsey 5. But here we were, hired lesbians at the straight girl party like foxes in the hen house, and after our scene we took the chance to explore. The room, a dark and low-lit, red and black adorned loft space turned high-end dungeon, was packed with scantily clad women dressed to impress. Black garters, leather skirts, Cuban-heeled stockings, and some well-placed electrical tape.

A group sat in a circle on the floor around an empty bottle of Veuve Clicquot, playing spin the bottle. I carefully stepped my own stilettos over them, traversing the space, looking for a bathroom, a quick lipstick retouch necessary after the heat of my scene left me dripping in more ways than one.

Lipstick is a touchstone of Skirt Club. There was not a butch in sight. A friend of mine, writer and sex educator Vanessa Carlislealso attended the party, and later told me that she was ready to leave when the bottle started spinning: As I watched, an eager brunette spun and the uncorked remains of the bottle that got everyone onto the floor in the first place.

The group squealed at the closed-mouth encounter Lesbians having sex at a party a drunken bachelorette party. Straight women just do lesbian differently.

Chloe took my flogger and started going at them herself: The stakes were lower than approaching a woman in a gay bar or at a queer party. The encounters work differently.

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In some ways it felt like they worked without consequence. They also worked without the typical markers of any queer bar on a Wednesday. But neither does femme invisibility, sort of: There was not femme present on purpose or principle or for resistance. Inclusion is not a priority here: The party was ethnically and racially diverse, surprising given that the promotion and media coverage have been overwhelmingly white. But the body types were overwhelmingly similar in size, ability, and age.

As a queer woman in that space, albeit also white and femme, I felt like I was in hetero territory, no matter how many times women approached "Lesbians having sex at a party" to play. A queer space lends itself to openness to different expressions, however successful that is in practice, and this space was gendered in monochrome. When I asked what brought them to Skirt Club, most of the women told me that they wanted a girlfriend in addition to their boyfriends or husbands: Some wanted to find a unicorn to bring home to a boyfriend that very night: One woman went into detail about her recent break-up, after she discovered her famous boyfriend was cheating: Others claimed curiosity, plain and simple.

Could we, by example, have lured these women away from their husbands, many of whom were standing by, waiting for their wives to return with a new guest-starlet in their bedroom? No matter their intentions for the evening, woman after woman came up to Chloe and I to say: You are clearly in a real relationship with each other. Well, Lesbians having sex at a party when a guy told her to do it.

It was as if they had never considered the option.

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I feared accidental lesbian home wrecking, and how pissed the hostesses might be to lose their into-lesbian-sex-but-definitely-totally-straight clientele to the dyke Dominatrix. But I secretly hope to get an email one day recounting that seeing me and my girlfriend at Skirt Club inspired an opening of the closet door. Regardless of the sex these women were having elsewhere, in a room full of women who identified as straight, Chloe and I were certainly not the only women to get laid that night.

When we arrived, a hot cougar spotted Chloe from across the room and sauntered over to make a move, already on the prowl. One of the only women with what I can only describe as dyke energy, I secretly hoped that she was an out and proud queer, cruising the crowd of married women for some no-strings-attached action.

Black lights illuminated walls, piles of white pillows obscuring any view of the floor. The furthest corner featured the only electrical outlet, and we had a hitachi, so we set up Lesbians having sex at a party. We were the only couple in the room save for two women making out in the entrance, perhaps hoping someone would trip over them and decide to stay.

After a Hitachi-induced trance took us out of the room for a good thirty minutes, a return to reality meant that we were surrounded. Women had filled the space, grinding on each other, going down on each other, fucking with abandon. But as a femme top who loves to rock a cock, I immediately noticed that there was nary a strap-on in sight.

Another woman rested her head on my thigh without asking, her partner eagerly going down. More amused than disturbed by the intrusion, Chloe and I joked that it was just like fucking with the dog on the bed and looked for the escape route least likely to disturb the crowd.

I was Lesbians having sex at a party, even thrilled, to see sex happening and women coming, but I had to wonder: Was it sexual socialization in the swinger scene, or were they so eager to find intimacy with another woman that they would fuck anywhere?

It was adventurous, but not too adventurous. It was lesbian, but not too lesbian. And what did they think of my sex? At its core, even our queer culture figures sex between feminine-presenting women as performative. It feels like The L Word. Perfectly beach-blown hair streaming down Pilates-toned backs, Agent Provocateur lingerie pulled carefully to the side, stilettos left on.

While the femme4femme movement online and in sex-positive queer communities has worked to reduce the stigma of femme-on-femme sex, many of us, myself included, are afraid that we learned lesbian sex from the male gaze and mirrored it back, even when the only bodies in front of the mirror are our own.

For that, it gets my lesbian Dominatrix stamp of approval, whether it wanted it or not. There are far too few spaces in the world where women feel comfortable enough to pile into a black-lit room full of pillows and go at it. These personal essays do not necessarily reflect the ideals of Autostraddle or its editors, nor do any First Person writers intend to speak on behalf of anyone other than themselves.

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First Person writers are simply speaking honestly from their own hearts. Mistress Natalie West is an LA-based professional Dominatrix, offering private sessions to people of all genders, as well as kink coaching for individuals or couples.

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She has been working in BDSM for six years, but she has been perverted for as long as she can remember. She cares about and fights for sex workers rights, women's health, and the well-being of the queer community. You can find her website. This is such a beautifully articulated post; I love the way you contrasted consensual and loving play on power dynamics versus Lesbians having sex at a party insidious and exclusionary power structures that manifest both consciously and unconsciously in society.

Yes, the experience definitely affected the ways I was aware of consensual power and non-consensual power operating simultaneously, particularly around gendered performances. What a fascinating account — and one that left me oddly unsettled.

I think it just reminded me of the odd sort of feeling I often have around straight women as a femme. Looks like the same part of the article struck you as did me. Really wanting to talk about this, but realizing how many straight women make up my friend circle and not sure where to turn. When you perform femininity in the absence of men, or even the absence of masculinity, how does that affect the performance? Maybe that question gets to why it feels alienating to not be centering men in convos with straight women.

I think that straight cis men have a lot of opportunities for sanctioned homoerotic experiences. Sex Between Straight White Men is really fascinating on that topic.

I find the contrast between straight-identifying men and women really striking here. Cis men who identify as straight while having sex of any kind with other men have drawn a great deal of scrutiny and many charges that they are actually deceptive gay men. Then there are the people who claim that all bisexual men are actually gay men and that bisexuality itself is only Lesbians having sex at a party for women.

I imagine that this was less severe before the panic associated with HIV and intense stigmatization of bisexual men and straight identifying MSM that came with it.

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