Trick or Pee (Lesbian Watersports)

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But even though I’ve been out for years now, I’ve still never spent much time around older lesbians. The lesbian bars and events I frequent in New York — the gay capital of the world! — are almost overwhelmingly populated by young people. The older women I did meet tended to be coupled up. I knew that hot older butches, even single ones, were out there, in my city and beyond, but I didn’t know where to find them. Once you've figured out where it's going to happen (and who it's going to happen with), make sure that all parties know what the plan is and are fully consenting. Consent is the most important part of any sex act, after all. Have everything you want for clean-up nearby, and everyone should have a safe word ready, too. If I'm going to play with someone new, this is all something I might discuss during the "into?" conversation, but if it's someone I know, it's something I might bring up during play. I've never experienced any sort of stigma. I'm sure that's out there though. For some people, it's definitely a turn off, but I haven't ever gotten anything too dramatic. When I first pitched this story to my editors, I thought I’d be reporting on a lesbian cultural artifact in its twilight years. The women who’ve faithfully gone on dozens of Olivia trips over the decades are getting older, and I didn’t have a lot of faith that younger queer people were going to step in and save companies like this from extinction. Other elements of lesbian culture have been steadily dying; why should Olivia be any different? It overwhelmed me, just then, the sudden force of my wanting. I wanted my own big, strong butch. Someone who wasn’t looking for someone to help them grow, because they’ve done most of their growing already.

It wasn’t until the day afterward that we’d realize exactly how much of a spectacle we’d made. Lynette had been chatting with a few women the day before, more than one of whom confronted her in the cafeteria the next morning. “Everyone saw that young blonde hanging all over you last night,” she told her scornfully. “You better be careful.” Another woman caught us goofing around in the pool and reported to Lynette that we were causing a bit of a scene. When my partner jokingly warned me, before I left for the cruise, not to fall in love with a hot older butch — seriously, we joked about this — I thought, Fat chance. Not only because I had no intention of falling in love with anyone else, but because I thought hooking up with hot older butches would remain the stuff of my fantasies. Who's up for round Tsu! And that isn't a typo! Featuring 16 omorashi short fics taken from days 11-26 of Omovember 2023. Language: English Words: 7,978 Chapters: 16/16 Comments: 1 Kudos: 4 Hits: 1,131 To Jax. Thank you for being the bad influence <3 Language: English Words: 10,478 Chapters: 3/5 Comments: 21 Kudos: 16 Bookmarks: 9 Hits: 423 It's also not – contrary to knee-jerk myths – a particularly dangerous or unhygienic thing. If someone wanted to use urine to 'defile' a bed, the best they'd actually do is get the whole thing a bit damp and smelly. Urine is mostly sterile, and the greatest risk run by a watersports fetishist is that if they drink urine from the beginning of someone's stream, they might ingest bacteria that had been hanging around at the entrance to the urethral tract. But this isn't a risk if you're only in to being peed on rather than in, and it can be avoided by never drinking from the start of someone's stream. It's handy knowledge not only in case you hook up with a fetishist, but also if you happen to get stranded in the desert: drinking urine is good enough for Bear Grylls, and as long as they follow the general safety advice, it's good enough for kinky people too.

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When I kissed Lynette goodbye at our appropriately miserable reentry to the real world — Pennsylvania Station in Manhattan — I still wasn’t exactly sure what the hell I was supposed to do next. But golden showers really are the tip of the yellow iceberg, so I took to the internet to find out what parts of watersports ur-ine to, and why. Alice, webcammer, Colorado, US For the last stretch of our afternoon, we were dropped on a secluded beach at Nevis, where a few of us ferried beers and our new favorite drink, the very college-esque Panty Ripper (coconut rum and pineapple juice), from shore to the rest of the women waiting in the water. One woman stuffed a bunch of beers into her bathing suit and we cheered whenever anybody pulled one out. A couple women had GoPro cameras, with which we took a lot of increasingly drunken group shots while we swam. One of them was attached to a floating handle that looked very much like a big yellow dildo, which, once somebody pointed it out, kept sending us into hysterics. Before I left, I talked to a few of my reporter friends about it, just in case a hookup opportunity should present itself and I decided to partake for, um, research purposes . We decided that my Olivia story fell in some sort of weird journalistic in-between, just like my own job does. I sometimes do reporting, but I’m not strictly a reporter; I’m a writer, editor, and cultural critic. Plus, I wasn’t assigned this story to go and passively report out what everybody else was doing on the cruise; I was supposed to immerse myself in the experience (while, of course, disclosing to anyone I spoke with that I was writing about the trip). And the thing a lot of women on the cruise were looking to experience was, yes, getting laid. Throughout the trip, Matie and Jamie would have a number of tearful conversations about trans inclusion with some older passengers who refused to accept trans women as their fellow sisters. But they also got many women to reconsider their more middle-of-the-road views on trans inclusion. “Those are the people who matter,” Jamie would later tell me, recalling her latest conversions over coffee in the cafeteria.

I would move out of an apartment that I adored, that I’d almost single-handedly furnished, that I thought I’d live in for years to come. I would hug my landlady, crying again because she was crying for me.Afterward, I had lunch with Dana and some of the other Olivia staffers and asked them about it — why not make the Public Posts more prominent, MichFest style? Especially since the younger people at the first Gen O event had explicitly asked for more sex content. Olivia had run sexuality and intimacy workshops before, and at the lunch, the staffers floated the definite possibility that they will again. I know for a fact that a lot of my queer friends would be way more likely to book a future Olivia cruise, uncool as cruises might be to cash-strapped millennials, if they knew how likely they’d be to get some action. I just don’t understand some of these women,” she said, looking around the room at the joyful group of dancing lesbians. “Why do they insist on making themselves so ugly? I’ve never gotten the whole butch thing.” Eventually, once we’d reboarded the boat after our snorkeling, I did start talking with a few of the women I met at the Gen O mixer earlier that week, and it only took a couple of drinks for us to become the best of friends. The weird thing is that, while I’ve never been one for watersports, the pressure on my bladder is kind of horny. He assured me he had no problem with gay people, and he really didn’t; the three guys running the catamaran all day were amazing. But he did occasionally seem to forget about the realities of the situation.