Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Lesbian Couple Trying to Scare the Straight People in Provincetown: Female (femme), 40, non-profit manager, Park Slope, lesbian, in a relationship.
DAY ONE
10 a.m. My partner and I wake up after a long, hard sleep. We arrived late last night during a torrential downpour to our cottage rental in Provincetown. We can see the water from bed and cozy up for what I imagine is going to be a sexy, dirty, romantic anniversary vacation.
10:01 a.m. The air is punctuated by the sounds of children. Children? There are three other rentals in our unit and our dreams of naked outdoor showers, beach sex, grilling scallops, and cocktails are quickly dashed when we realize it is Family Week and we’ll be sharing our vacation with families with children.
11 a.m. After our usual morning tea and granola, we head out to the deck and make our presence known. My partner is a big butch dyke who just had top surgery and I’m a short little femme with a bawdy mouth. The families turn out to be straight. There are actually three straight families with children here. They ask if we have kids. We could be just another married couple with children having a vacation. We both get angry.
Noon We head back into the house to have sex. If seeing us visually doesn’t scare the straight people away, we decide hearing us have sex in the middle of the day will. My partner wants to play Daddy/girl, which is my favorite sex play. She has brought a new toy, a pink pacifier that says “I heart Daddy.” She puts it in my mouth like it’s a ball gag. She does me, first with her hand, then with her cock. She takes the pacifier out for my final orgasm so I can scream.
12:30 p.m. Just as I’m coming down from my orgasm I feel my tongue swell. I immediately know I’m having an allergic reaction to the cheap plastic pacifier and start to panic. My tongue is swelling in my mouth and I’m having a hard time swallowing. I rinse with salt water and she gives me a Benadryl.
8:30 p.m. Our first afternoon of vacation has passed in a haze of antihistamines and naps. My tongue is finally back to normal and I hope tomorrow is sunny.
DAY TWO
8:16 a.m. We are woken up by the upstairs straight family’s smoke detector. We decide to embrace the day and throw on suits to jump into the ocean (which is outside our door) for a quick swim. The straight families probably don’t know what top surgery looks like and/or they will think she is a breast cancer survivor. Either way, we hope it creates some distance.
4 p.m. After a day of absolutely nothing but sun, reading John Grisham, and eating every three hours, my butch heads out for a bike ride. I spend the hour prepping shish kabobs and drinking red wine. She is often horny after working out. I’m often horny after drinking while she is working out, so we are a perfect match.
5 p.m. She arrives sweaty from a ten-mile bike ride to Truro. We throw on our suits and run into the ocean. The sun is hot but it’s low tide so we basically just pee and hold each other like a dirty Indigo Girls song that they never wrote.
5:30 p.m. We only have an outdoor shower in our cottage, which we love. It’s big enough for two and we can see the ocean while bathing.
5:45 p.m. We get into the house and leisurely lotion, Q-tip, brush, dry, and prep. Well, I mostly prep. She is a butch so her post-shower process is much shorter.
6 p.m. My freshly waxed, ocean-douched body is on the edge of the bed while my butch is sucking, licking, and biting me close to orgasm. She’s put a fluffy, feathery mask over my eyes because every single straight person and their child plus the owners are outside chatting on the deck. I am easily distracted and knowing this, she offers me refuge. I fall under her spell. Hearing only her moans. I finally relax and let go as she slips a finger in my butt and a few in my vagina and sucks my clit until I come.
6:20 p.m. Always wanting more, I’m on my knees in the tiny living room of our rental cottage. I’m sucking her cock like it’s my job. My butch slips her entire fist inside me. She uses her other hand to rub my clit. I don’t know my name.
6:30 p.m. She’s grabbing my hair. Saying dirty things which I can only half-hear since my whole head is absorbed into her crotch.
6:35 p.m. She’s on the bed, on her back. I’m finishing her off and she comes all over my face. I roll over to catch my breath. She tries to catch her breath. She is still swollen and turned on.
6:37 p.m. She’s using her strap-on and has got me on all fours. She wants to get off again, fast. She asks me a question. I am not really listening and before I know it, she’s shoving it into my butt. Not fast and not the whole thing, but enough to send her over the edge quickly. I squeal. I cringe. I take it like a champ.
6:38 p.m. She’s the happiest butch in Provincetown. We are lying in each other’s arms, catching our breath.
DAY THREE
2 p.m. After a leisurely day alone of cleaning the cottage, eating lunch, and reading on the beach, my friend texts to ask if I can get together in town for coffee. I’m sad to miss my butch’s arrival home but excited to see my friend.
3:30 p.m. I arrive home to find my butch relaxing in bed and watching TV. I’m still covered in sunscreen and jump into the shower to get clean.
4 p.m. I get sidetracked by the neighbors with children who obviously forgot regular adults have afternoon sex and start talking to me about the large amount of swordfish steaks they bought and want us to join them tonight for dinner. Now I’m derailed by planning a dinner party.
8 p.m. Me and my butch lover have spent the last four hours walking into town, preparing for a dinner party, and not having sex. I’m holding out for late-night sex. There’s still hope.
11 p.m. The small rental cottage is trashed. The straight couple show up with Prosecco and we talk for hours. They live in Chelsea so we assume they understand our language of sarcasm and queerness. I’m exhausted and tipsy and the butch wants to watch TV. We’re too tired to have sex.
DAY FOUR
Noon We throw together some lunch and drive over to the boatyard. My butch knows how to sail and I think that’s pretty hot.
4 p.m. A perfect, glorious afternoon on the water together. Minus when I got hit in the head with the boom. But after that, it was perfect. We ate lunch and she taught me how to sail. We tried to have sex in the water but it’s really more difficult than it looks. Salt water just doesn’t work well with getting it on.
5 p.m. We change clothes, sit outside, and eat oysters and mussels and I have a huge fresh margarita. Gay people everywhere.
6 p.m. Instead of treating each other to a fancy dinner for our anniversary, we treat ourselves to a new flogger and sensory depriving blindfold at the new leather sex-toy store. It feels more romantic. I’m gabbing with the staff when my butch calls out for me to try something out. The staff turns to me in unison: “You are being beckoned.”
7 p.m. We’ve made the unfortunate mistake of checking e-mail upon our return home. I’m sent down a spiral of frustrating work e-mails that make me want to drink more and scream. The butch also receives stupid e-mail and engages as well. We should have kept eating oysters.
9 p.m. Our glorious day is shattered by real life, always the danger of vacations. We settle in to watch a movie.
10 p.m. The butch is falling fast asleep. The danger of being 40 and waiting until late at night to have sex is that there is a strong chance it won’t happen. I could also easily fall asleep but the trip to the toy store got me all worked up. Alas, I finish the movie alone and the butch falls asleep.
DAY FIVE
Noon We are in the water together laughing about the night before. It turns out I was much more of a baby than I imagined. Pouting about not having sex is really unattractive. I’m thankful we are laughing about it.
2:30 p.m. I’m naked and wrapped in a sarong on the deck. Everyone in our compound is gone for once and it’s quiet. She looks at me and says in all seriousness: “Do you want to get fucked?” You don’t have to ask a girl twice. I bolt for the house.
3 p.m. I’m being tied to a post in the cottage. Patti Smith is blaring and she’s using rope and fancy knots to secure me in place. She puts the new blindfold on me. She gets out the flogger and begins whipping me all over. Not hard or stinging, just enough to get my entire body awake and lull me into another state.
3:30 p.m. She’s worked me into a state with her hand, giving me a quick release. The ropes create such a heightened feeling I can’t stand it. She loosens some of the rope and pulls me down until I’m sitting on her strap-on. I’m still held against the beam by rope and barely have enough room to ride her. It’s delicious torture. I have a huge, big orgasm. It goes on and on. I’m exhausted.
3:45 p.m. My butch gives me time to recoup. We are now in bed. She’s waited patiently for me to catch my breath. She asks for me to get on all fours, then does me from behind and comes quickly.
3:50 p.m. I know she has another one in her. “Does Daddy need another one?” I ask. She smiles and asks if I can take it. I know she is referring to anal and I know it will get her off big. She does her best not to slam into me too fast but I can feel her getting excited. She comes fast and big.
4 p.m. Perfect timing. Just as we finish all the straight people come home. I throw on my sarong and join the straight ladies on the deck with a cocktail. I’m sure I smell of sex and I love it.
DAY SIX
6 p.m. The straight people want to have a communal dinner for their last night here. There’s nothing I love more than straight people being in charge of the big salad.
7:30 p.m. We walk into town for a gallery opening. Lots of art, leisurely stroll, seeing friends, and ice cream. You know who loves ice cream? Lesbians. And because we are lesbians we can eat in every night.
10 p.m. I ask to cash in my anniversary massage one day early. My butch lover turns into “Joey,” the fictional buff local masseuse who takes care of lonely rich wives who are not being taken care of by their banker husbands. Joey rubs my entire body down and then takes care of me from the inside out. First from behind, then he asks for a reverse cowgirl. I ride Joey while he fingers my butt. I forget my name and beg Jesus to finish me off. I don’t even believe in God.
DAY SEVEN
8 a.m. It’s our anniversary and my butch has gone to town to get us lox and bagels, the New York Times, and iced coffee.
3 p.m. My butch wants to cash in her anniversary massage. Her massage is provided by “Chrissy,” the professional who likes giving full release. The scene is that her wife has paid for Chrissy to provide the butch with whatever she wants. Chrissy is able to get the butch to fully relax with her strong hands and then an expert blowjob. This scene always ends in a blowjob.
5 p.m. My butch has been sleeping for an hour post-orgasm and I’ve been quietly putzing around online. We have a few hours to get ready for our dinner guests and though I hate to be the kind of lesbian who keeps score, I need to come. My butch wakes up. We suddenly have very little time. First she gets me going with her mouth on me, then she uses her whole cock while squeezing my body with hers. I love it. It’s so beyond missionary. I beg her to come inside me. She sits up and penetrates me until she comes.
5:15 p.m. The best part about sex with my butch is that she can keep going even after she comes. She doesn’t even break her pace. She knows how to make me come like no one else. I wrap my legs around her and completely let go. I forget the neighbors. I forget the dinner guests soon to arrive. I come hard and big. Best. Anniversary Week. Ever.
TOTALS: Nine orgasms; four BDSM scenes; four acts of anal intercourse; two acts of oral sex; one act of fisting; two drinks with straight people.
