I'm in a mood today and the essay I'm working on for The Book sparked a memory I wanted to share.
So in case you're a newer reader I'm Queer. Shocking I know but yes, it's true I'm really fucking queer. Also during my youthful single days I was ecstatically single and enjoyed a jubilant sluthood.
When I was just about 22 or 23 maybe I went on an interview to be an erotic massage provider and the woman who interviewed me behaved inappropriately (which you'll find out about in The Book) I ran into this woman at a Pride event later on that year and my friends, I behaved terribly and used the power of my big boobs and grabby hands for evil.
We'll call this woman Booty Supreme to protect her rep and because I don't actually recall her name.
So when I met Booty Supreme the first time things were not awesome. I did however think she was smoking hot. SMOKING HOT. I'm talking so hot that had I not been offended by some of the things she said I would have probably stripped right in her office and let her do whatever she wanted to.
I turned down the job and forgot about the whole incident until I saw her at OH wait it wasn't a Pride thing it was a GIRL4GIRL type thing.
Understand that at that age, I wasn't entirely sure of myself when I was using my boobs for evil. I hadn't yet mastered the fine fine art of being Walking Talking Sex in order to get my way. At that point I was working out how me using my sexual power related to how I presented myself and sometimes I was magic and sometimes not so much.
That particular night I was magic. I don't remember what I had on aside from the fact there was a very short skirt involved, I only remember feeling like I was walking talking sex.
I went to the dance party thing and danced a lot, I grabbed a lot of asses, I got motorboated and then there Booty Supreme was. She was still just as fine and I felt something newish for me.
I felt a malicious kind of sexy. I was still angry with her for things she'd said to me, but I had a powerful want to have sex with her.
It was the first moment I ever purposefully set out to have myself a hate fuck.
I didn't want to be her girlfriend. I didn't want to be nice. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to have a productive discussion about our feelings. I wanted us to clash, get naked, do it a lot then part ways.
This was a powerful moment for me for many reasons.
I realized all at once like someone slapped me on the ass that I didn't have to want her to be my girlfriend. I didn't have to have long windy walks and whatnot. I realize that I could go for it, maybe get laid or maybe not and it didn't have to be a big thing.
I didn't waffle for long. I remember very distinctly going into the jammed ladies room to adjust my cleavage for maximum POW, I put on more lipgloss and went a hunting for Booty Supreme.
It was the first time I ever just grabbed the person I wanted and said, I want to fuck you.
We were standing out on the sidewalk and there it was. I'd just gone and said it, I stood there with my back straight in my YES I'm sexy posture (shoulders sqaured, tits up, booty out) and waited.
Now I didn't really think it would work to be honest. I had never been that girl before in my life. I hadn't ever been aggressive, I hadn't ever put on the persona that assumed that yes, YES the person in my sights would in fact want to fuck me.
I did think she was going to say no, her expression turned a bit mean and then she grabbed the front of my bra in a way that made my knees go weak. She was taller than me, stronger than me and as she leaned close to glare at me I knew it was on.
She held me like that right on the sidewalk and called me a little bitch. She told me to go get my coat and that we were leaving. She had this angry turned on burr in her voice that made me hop to it.
Despite my badass swagger that night, I wanted to get spanked and oh my darlings did I.
Booty Supreme tanned my hide. She was my first experience with rough angry almost fighting lesbian sex and it was fantastic. I stayed at her house until that Sunday (Friday night, all Saturday, to Sunday morning), we broke for snacks and water and once she had to answer the door.
I left her place in a happy stinky daze. I had bite marks and bruises. I had on a pair of her pants because she had claimed my panties as hers.
She was magnificent.
And truthfully although we saw each other here and there around town we never spoke to each other again. We did not and smile at each other, but never another word.
I didn't like Booty Supreme. I didn't care to ever have an actual conversation with her. She didn't like me either. That's just fine.
I do know that she moved away a few years later. I know that she wound up being the girlfriend of a friend of mine which I thought could be awkward but my friend said that from what she'd heard I was a.) a good lay and b.) a non issue in their relationship.
Overall things turned out just peachy.
Looking back, I see that Booty Supreme kicked off a phase for me. I behaved quite scandalously for a while because I had finally figured out that I could if I wanted to. I had such a good time.
The moral of the story is that if you want to be Walking Talking Mother Fucking Sex you can be. If you want to have knock down drag out sexy times with someone and never speak to them again you can (if everyone involved is down of course).
If you want to you can have your own jubilant sluthood.
The big moral is, your sexuality only belongs to you. There is no "supposed" to. If you aren't being a predator (in a non consensual way) and you and your partner(s) are into it. GO ON WITH YOUR BAD SELF.
Now scuse me my darlings. Back to the essay.
Remember kids, safer sex is awesome sex and get screened.