My girlfriend had a reputation for throwing wild parties. Well, wild SM play parties for women. When we decided to start a new party together, we wanted to expand the crowd to include not just the hardcore leatherdyke set, but kinky girls and transpeople of all kinds: folks into a variety of turn-ons in addition to SM, like public sex, anonymous sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, and role playing. We both loved the idea of one place where SM players would flog and cane alongside vanilla chicks sucking and fucking-everyone getting it on in their own particular way. We wanted to see the cross-pollination of perversion: those non-kinky ones who came for the sex and ended up in bondage, and those rarely seen out of full leather regalia, butt naked with ass in a sling and legs in the air. But one phenomenon developed which we never expected: every month, a few straight girls come to the party. I don't mean bi girls with boyfriends or even bi-curious ones, but bonafied, self-identified straight girls. I can spot 'em a mile away. We make a point to give all newcomers a tour, explain sex party etiquette, and answer questions. So when I spotted a preppy-and-potentially-het girl pair at one party, I asked the requisite newbie question: "How did you find out about the party?"
"We read about it in Time Out. We know it's for lesbians, but we didn't think anyone would know. We left our guys at home tonight. We wanted to see what this was all about."
"Great," I said in my most encouraging tone.
"I'm Jennifer and this is Ona." I looked them both over. Jennifer was a well-groomed slender woman with light brown hair, a recent manicure, tasteful makeup. Ona, who hadn't said a word, had shoulder-length blond hair, wore black jeans and a black silk blouse. They were both attractive, but my gaydar didn't even hum. I had to give them credit for coming. It's not only a testament to the fluidity of female sexuality, but an example of how acceptable it is for straight women to check out lesbians as compared to straight men (I haven't heard of any who go to gay male sex clubs just to "check it out.") I encouraged them to watch the action, then politely excused myself. As I made the rounds from the door to the dungeon and back again, I passed them a few times-they were glued together.
Hours later, the place was packed with more than eighty women, and I had lost track of time between unclogging the back toilet and searching for a missing sharps container so someone could do a piercing scene. In the play space, I ran into two butches who were focused on a corner, drooling over something or someone. I walked over and turned around so I could get a better look. Much to my surprise, there was Ona stripped down to her birthday suit lounging in a leather sling. Her friend was nowhere to be found. The shirt I met her in didn't do justice to her full breasts, and I would never have expected what I saw when I looked below her tits: an exquisitely shaved pussy. It was a top-notch job, and I knew she didn't get it at an Upper East Side salon like her friends.
"Beautiful shaving job, you did it yourself?" I respect a woman who's willing to groom her own twat. I walked closer, and her eyes met mine.
"Um, yes," she said, looking as if she's never been asked that question before.
"Gillette Mach 3?" I continued. She looked stunned.
"How did you ?"
"It's the only razor I use on mine. What kind of shaving cream?"
"None." And I swear she batted her eyelashes at me.
"Have you ever had sex with a woman?" I asked her point blank.
"Well " I reassured her with my eyes that I already knew the answer. "No," she finally said softly.
"Well, I'd love to be your first," I said with my best femme swagger. She giggled. I reached over to the table next to the sling, snapped on a latex glove and poured some lube onto my hand.
As I worked a finger inside her cunt, she felt wide open. "Has there been someone in here before me?" I teased. She blushed and giggled again.
"Well, my boyfriend and I had a quickie before his physics class this afternoon." The idea that this college dude had fucked her just hours before me got me really turned on. I wasn't quite sure why, but I decided to go with it.
"Does he have a big dick?" I asked, as I slipped two more fingers in her hungry hole.
"Yeah, I mean bigger than average." She cooed as I found her G-spot and worked it while my thumb rubbed her clit. She moaned.
"What about his hands?" I said, adding more lube, then sliding a fourth finger in easily.
She gave me a puzzled look, part dazed from confusion, part blissed out from the pleasure.
"What I mean to say is, well, I have very small hands. There are some things girls do better than boys." I got a rush just thinking about what I was about to do to her. "Have you ever been fisted?"
"Oh, no .Um, no, but, oh, that feels so good," she was totally high. One more shot of lube, and my thumb left her clit. "Put your hand there," I told her, and she didn't miss a beat. I slid my thumb up against my other fingers. Slowly, I pushed her tender insides. She took a deep breath.
"Good girl," I whispered, and I pushed into my wrist. She yelped, her hand began moving faster on her clit. She made a squeaking sound, then took another deep breath, and screamed at the top of her lungs. Usually, straight girls don't even catch my eye, but I'm glad I made an exception for this one.
