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Cruising, anonymous sex, and public sex are certainly part of the fantasy lives of my sapphic sisters; I've read countless erotic tales of seeing a stranger on the subway and following her home or meeting a sexy tourist at the local bar and showing her the sights in your bedroom. Don't get me wrong, I have seen women have sex on the spot without knowing a thing about each other. Throb, the monthly sex party for women that my girlfriend produces, creates a sex-club environment, the kind gay men take for granted. What could be safer and more conducive to raunchy girl-girl public action than a dark back room at a sex club and safer-sex supplies in plenitude? It warms my heart and pussy when girls who don't know each other get down at Throb. But more than once, after they've done the deed, one asks for the other's name or e-mail address. Dykes can't resist bonding; they just can't walk away. A friend of mine recently came to Throb on her birthday and wanted a face train, where women sat on her face, one after another, and she serviced them. She told me later, "I don't know why, but a lot of them wanted foreplay. What part of 'face train' didn't they get?"
Keirena said:Hmmm, I work with a lesbian who looks like she got hit in the face by a train...does that count?