Maybe it's because the only self-professed political lesbian I ever slept with was really, really bad at it. She kept sticking her tongue up my snatch and forgetting about the clit, and so I'm lying there feeling vaguely irritated. Well, sometimes her tongue would slip and quick hit the clit, and my eyebrows would raise and I'd start getting hopeful, but then it was back to the snatch. Please.
The only time I saw her get actually passionate and excited was when we were doing a 3-some (with a man!) and she was very adamant about exactly how he was supposed to fuck her. "Like that! No, like that!"
Well, poor guy, his dick shriveled up to the size of a packing peanut and she was left to turn her attention back to me. Poor me.
So, I'm not the best judge of what political lesbians are like in bed. All I have to go on are the aforementioned bad experiences, and some ramblings on a few women's blogs about how political lesbianism is necessary to overthrow the patriarchy. And true lesbian sex is about equality and love and gentleness and stuff like that.
So I gotta ask you political lesbians, and be honest with me. I may be a dyed-in-the-wool dyke femme strap-on admirer, but I don't bite. Not even usually when asked.
What's sex in the new lesbian utopia really like? Is it gushy? Do you have orgasms that make you curse? Do you really get going, or is it all gentle and smiles and backrubs?
I keep having a mental image of me with a lover. And she's on her back, legs all akimbo, and I'm hovering right above the pussy, breathing deep because there is no smell in the world like an aroused cunt, juice dripping, maybe mingling with the hair, deep, dark, pussy aroma. And I bury myself, softly at first, then with more abandon, tongue out to catch the droplets on her thighs, licking, smacking, tasting, sucking, finding the clit, circling it, licking it, sucking it, biting it maybe very carefully between my teeth, wrapping my lips around it.
And I love it when she's about to come and her thighs tighten around my head, around my face, and the world is dark, the world is the smell of pussy, the sound of pussy, the taste of pussy. And she starts rocking, she starts shaking, her hips are doing a tango that I have to keep up with, otherwise she gets away from me, and she gets angry, she demands, "suck that pussy, bitch!"
I love being her bitch.
Do political lesbians love being each other's bitches? Or all they all about the sweety and the honey and the lover?
Do you ever flip your woman over onto her stomach and snake 2, 3, 5 fingers inside her cunt? Do you ever become so intimately knowledgeable about the inside of her cunt that you know exactly which way to turn your hand to make her hips rise up? Have you ever had your hand inside your woman's pussy and grabbed a hold and moved her, shook her, up and down?
Have you ever sucked your woman's nipples, bit them, while snaking an 8-inch fat dildo inside her cunt? Have you ever gotten your fingers slippery with her juice then slipped then up inside her ass? Have you ever done both at the same time? Have you ever used hardware?
Does a trip to Home Depot turn into a honeymoon? Does the sight of ropes make you wet?
Do you ever go out in public smelling like all of your woman's juices, on your face, up your nose, on your fingers, imbedded under your fingernails? Is this kind of a fetish for you, that you can raise your fingers to your nose, surreptitiously, and smell her? When she sees you do this does she smile? Does it make both of you think about doing it some more? Does it make you visualize her bent over your bed, ass in the air, legs spread?
Does your woman ever climb up your body and grind her pussy against your face til you can't breathe, til you might black out, til she groans and shakes and falls back against the mattress? Have you ever willingly gone without breath, without sight, just to be captured inside of her thighs?
Have you ever shopped online for something wicked and black leather and long and hard? Something like this?
Have you ever used one of these? Have you ever been fucked by one of these? Have you ever been flipped over and fucked up the ass by your woman, while she was wearing one of these?
Have you ever fallen to your knees in front of her and sucked her cock?
Why not? Do you think you might want to? Does it seem a little brutish? Does the brutishness of it frighten you?
Come on political lesbians--I've been nasty and honest with you. Now it's your turn. Tell me what you really like.
19 comments:
I'd really love to see their comments on this one, actually. Though I think it would be some measure of predictable "I'm a LESBIAN, you're a LUSTBIAN, neener neener..."
woah.
you are HOT. I feel a little dizzy.
This is the best writing about political lesbians that I have ever read.
Because, yeah, when I read a political lesbian talking about what sex between women is supposed to be like, my eyes glaze over and my brain wants to take a bath in a bucket of gin.
Plus, the attempt to colonize and appropriate lesbian sexuality just pisses me off.
i think this post may have made me fall in love with your blog.
gosh, well thank you all :)
*kactus wanders off, blushing...
o my. -opens window- -thinks about lighting cigarette- -realizes she doesn't smoke- -goes off to bunk, grinning widely-
...and I dunno about Sheila Jeffreys, but I bet Dorothy Allison would be proud, dammit. and frankly, who would -you- rather hang out with?
...I didn't realize political lesbians were allowed to have mixed-sex threesomes. "huh." well--meh.
I had a more serious point, but i lost it somewheres. something like:
well, from everything I've seen from let's say that school of thinking, whether they blatantly call themselves "political lesbians" or not, I...don't get the impression that they consider, not even just sex, but -desire-, terribly important. (yeah yeah Mary Daly, Pure Lust, I still have no idea wtf she's on about).
Because it's subjective, and it doesn't fit the sociopolitical narrative. "Lesbianism" appears to be defined by 1) affiliating oneself with women, erotically/romantically and/or otherwise (it's the "or" that drives me nuts) 2) abstaining from men (huh?) 3) a particular sort of presentation, most commonly associated in my mind with granola, andro-butch to hippie-femme, no artifice please we're lesbians. Not my bag, but whatever floats your boat, you know.
What -doesn't- seem particularly important in most of those definitions as I've seen 'em, is, well, as you say: not even just having sex with women, but WANTING TO have sex with women.
Like, a lot of them do seem to share with the ex-gays the belief that erotic desire can and should be moulded to one's ideology.
which, well...no. doesn't work that way ime.
And, desire is not the same thing as -relationship.- Desire is not the same thing as -love-, esp. sisterly/comradely love, although of course they can all go together. Desire is not always happy peaceful tralala through the woods. Desire is raw and messy and sometimes ugly. Desire is scary. Desire is POWERFUL.
And sisterhood, while it may be powerful also, is not desire.
Oh, the other thing that drives me up the wall is this idealization of the true lesbian as being the true feminist and vice-versa. It's like...look, this is all very nice, but this sort of umm fantasy of, I don't know, Artemis and her--well, not really merry, hard-working, band, loping through the woods, fending off the armies of men, building barns, mixing references, and so on...it's, well? Not really reality very often ime.
Which is fine, but I do object when people insist that my reality as well as my own perfectly good fantasies aren't as well somehow -pure-, you know, because I like me some strap-ons and genderfuck and glitter and hangin' with boy pals too. And looking at women and having lusty thoughts of various sorts. And, well, yah: Other Womens' Pussies.
It -does- kind of come with the territory. O the objectification. O the badwrong. O the men oh gawd here we go again, dragging in the MEN when there are no MEN and i don't want there to be any MEN, i don't CARE whose idea this was first, i am HAPPY, the "heteropatriarchy" is decidedly NOT in favor of my being sexually happy, and if you -also- have a problem with it you can choke on a rock.
Seriously, y'know, growing up queer? The closet? It's -internal- as much as anything else. It's its -own- narrative; if you're a lesbian it (usually) dovetails with the narrative a lot of straight women are familiar with, but in other ways it branches off, and yes does dovetail with that of gay men and everyone else whose -sexuality,- NOT (just) sex, is on the Not Approved Of list.
So, no, in fact, not everyone is gonna just go, straight women, gay women, what's the difference? We're all women, that comes first. Tra la. No. And not because I'm THAT invested with my pain my pain my SPECIAL pain which het chicks just can't understand, because there's quite enough of that going around (even though...well, never mind that for now).
Because. I. Like. Sex. With Women. I. Am. ATTRACTED. To Women.
This was a big deal, all by itself. In the greater sociopolitical sense, it's entwined with the way we think about sex and gender as a whole, duh, obviously; but it is NOT the same as growing up Gurlie; and it is NOT some supra-special get-out-of-housework-and-degrading-blowjobs-free pass. It just is what it is. And I'm sick of the romanticization, I'm sick of the sexual policing by supposed "feminists" and "lesbians" when I've already had quite enough of that from het society ta very much; and MOST of all I am sick of invisibility and by Maud that INCLUDES (but is not limited to) FUCKING. MUFFDIVING. FISTING. YEAH. THAT. REALLY.
...and having said all that (do I contradict myself? very well I contradict myself. oh noez another gay man), sure, there are...continuums. There are continuums of sexuality--it's not a binary, who you're attracted to (of course neither is gender or sex a binary koff koff); there is also a continuum of eroticism. I do think there's a kernel of something useful in the whole Adrienne Rich thing in that, yes, sisterhood (metaphorical i mean...let's just keep this simple-ish, 'k?) CAN be erotic, eros CAN have the element of, as the BE workshops I would go to call it, "the dear love of comrades." Sure. That's wonderful. That's rich. That's profound. And I know a number of radical lesbian-feminists (dunno if "political" in the narrow definition, but) DO have that, and I think that's fantastic.
But...I think a lot of them don't.
A lot of them don't; a lot of them seem far more comfortable in the company of very angry straight women than with the women they've appointed BadWrong, who by a total coincidence also happen to be freaks and deviants in the "heteropatriarchy" as well (yes, it's true, the whole world loves pro-dommes, bisexual subs, trans women, drag kings, and so on, which is totally why they're like running the country, indeed the PLANET; even though a lot of 'em can't make a living, go to a rape shelter or even use the can in peace...)
...and, well, I know where I cast -my- lot. Cast or was cast, but I prefer to claim it.
More plainly and more distinctly: I did not go through the hell of a closeted adolescence only to go right back into another one. Or to turn around and insist that, hey, -I'm- comfortable, but -you- need to hide away, yer too weird, sorry, don't fit the narrative.
The idea of lesbianism without attraction to women is madness.
I know when I was growing up queer, it wasn't the thoughts of "Gee, I feel the urge to enter into a deep and loving sistership with women the world over" that had me feeling like a freak, or that had me sitting uncomfortable and beat red when surrounded by my female classmates.
It was those budding attractions and urges... of knowing I wanted to do SOMETHING to them, and that that mysterious SOMETHING was to do with mouths and kissing and hands and smells and those stories we were starting to hear about what naked people did together. That's my earliest memory attachment to the word "dyke".
"Do you have orgasms that make you curse?"
That's a short form test of coherency for any theory of sexuality. If it don't leave you sayin' "damn" or worse...that's not sex.
Heh, sly--sometimes a well-placed "hallelujah, thank you jesus!" can take the place of a curse ;)
I mean, y'all, let's talk about sex, baby, I'm so sick of it being politicized, why can't it just be fun? Nobody politicizes going on the fucking tilt-a-whirl, do they?
Or do they? God help me, I woulnd't be surprised.
it wasn't the thoughts of "Gee, I feel the urge to enter into a deep and loving sistership with women the world over" that had me feeling like a freak, or that had me sitting uncomfortable and beat red when surrounded by my female classmates.
Yep!!
seriously, even before all this stuff: the pounding heart, the blush...this stuff does matter. I had talked myself into believing it didn't. It's a headfuck.
hell for that matter, maybe the sex or orgasms -aren't- always that mind-blowing. maybe one day the latex suit is itchy and butterfly left you numb eventually and the dream babe was disappointingly butterfingered. Maybe you -do- have serious unfinished business that's precluding sex being "fun" or pleasurable. Maybe you just haven't been in the mood. And that's all -fine-;
the problem is, again, when one starts trying to cram all that into some sort of universalizing sociopolitical -thing.- 'Cuz it's like, dude, if we wanted that, we'd may as well all be nuns.
which, btw, didn't Janice Raymond use to be one?
Heh, sly--sometimes a well-placed "hallelujah, thank you jesus!" can take the place of a curse
My bedroom shared a wall with the bedroom of the apartment behind ours and the couple were, like, these hardcore Baptists. I mean the gospel-music only type folks. Anyway, they never did anything sexually that we could hear until one night when we're trying to sleep and we keep hearing the guy saying "Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus! Thank you Jesus!" I mean, he was practically screaming it. I guess his wife was making up for the 364 days of the year when they were too holy for such activities.
pahaha
btw, kactus, have you seen this post? (Roy at "No Cookies for Me" on "pop culture lesbians.")
Mercy, is it hot in here, or is it me?
It's ... not just you, Daisy.
Dammit, I have to go to work now.
Nobody politicizes going on the fucking tilt-a-whirl, do they?
The very fact that society can even contemplate the existence of the tilt-a-whirl demonstrates the depths to which the patriarchy has distorted your psyche. There you sit, your masochistic self helplessly in the "ride", while an "operator" toys with your senses by pushing buttons on a technology made by men.
Dominance/submission all the way through!
Post a Comment