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Lesbian Toilet Encounter (Professionals in Private Book 1)

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I was scared of so many things, and worried about, as usual, lesbian stereotypes — moving too fast, feeling too much. And I said so. It was one of our talents that week: saying absolutely everything that was on our minds, and processing until we felt we couldn’t possibly process anymore — at least, of course, until the next night.

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Yes Goddess, you are the most powerful one and rule me. I am meant to be stepped on and nothing more." Replied Tommy At dinner, we wondered why we couldn’t have both: explicitly lesbian spaces that also explicitly love, and welcome, trans and gender-nonconforming people. Our identities shouldn’t be opposed, but in communion with each other: butch and femme, trans and cis, lesbian and queer. Hey loser, I've been at cheerleading all day today, mind if you take whiff of what that smells like?"I have to say, though, I've found if I relieve myself of the bulk of my gifts in advance, I'm able to "feed" my slave very small, manageable amounts. The same is true of my nectar. It was thrilling, and cathartic, to have such a deep, generous conversation with three smart women about a question that’s been at the center of my personal and professional life for nearly five years now: Can lesbians, and women in general, survive the gender revolution? Then somehow, all of a sudden, years passed. We became two professionals in our late twenties, living in our dream apartment on the top floor of a Brooklyn brownstone. We weren’t allowed to have pets, but, like good millennials, we had plenty of plants, and interests outside of each other: my roller derby, their ultramarathons. We were busy, stable. Happy enough. 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. I felt crazy. I felt like a teenager. I felt guilty and confused, like I had no idea what I was doing. But I also knew that I might not ever do anything quite like this in my life ever again. So I might as well let myself live through this bizarro universe and see where it would take me.

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The first time I thought that Olivia might actually stand a chance at survival was Sunday, the first full day of the cruise, when I attended the welcome mixer for “Generation O,” which is how Olivia refers to its precious few millennial and Generation X clientele. As I walked around the ship, which holds over 2,000 passengers, it was already clear that the average woman here was a couple decades older than me. But it turned out that there were a few other twenty- and thirtysomethings who’d managed to find their way to Olivia. Catherine the Great was very well known and feared for her sadistic games she enjoyed with her enemies. And for a woman it was an extreme satisfaction if she could execute her worst and most dangerous enemy by stuffing his mouth just with her feces and pee until they finally shut up for ever. I would move into a house with some friends in Brooklyn, where a room had just magically opened up. There’d be a dog, and a yard. It would feel like a sign. (I’d start getting really into signs.)we 3 nuns and 2 priest were there. since it is an evangelist church and very remote area we young people were appointed there. our main assigned job is to spread christianity among tribals As you can imagine, the better cameras are usually the ones you have to have a premium membership to see. So I’m surprised to say I might actually travel with Olivia again, skeptical as I remain of cruise ethics in general. And that’s because of all the things that happened in the eight days I spent aboard the Summit — things I wasn’t remotely expecting.

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We all formed one big circle, and the staffers got the ball rolling. First things first: How had we all heard about Olivia?Shitting on demand is just not a thing. If you’re given a time then that’s the time. Just because 2pm or 4am suits your schedule doesn’t mean it will suit mine or anyone else’s. I am not going to mess up my bodies routine to suit your needs. Plus, have you ever felt the discomfort of having to hold? It’s not nice buddy. We both like Justin Bieber, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, babies, spicy foods, and romantic comedies, as well as traveling, swimming, dressing up, having sex, being tall, biking (“cycling,” she’d say), and making detailed plans well ahead of time. We also appear, at this admittedly early stage, to be each other’s scarily perfect sexual complement; lesbian sex can look like a million and one different things, and we like so many of the same ones that it is, honestly, a miracle we ever got out of bed and did anything normal, like eat dinner or generally interact with other people. (Turns out, there was nothing wrong with me during my sad stretch of a dry spell after all — I just hadn’t been having the sex I actually wanted to have.) 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. Follow the same method to make him savour your shit too. Repeat the exercise for 2 to 3 weeks. Make sure that he is erect, when ever he is serving you. This gives you, tremendous power over him.

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But after meeting Lynette, I saw how much pride she took in her butch womanhood, which wasn’t some androgynous nowhere zone — femininity’s absence — but a whole universe unto itself. (She wore a different suit to dinner every night.) The clips aren’t very long, so if you prefer to get lost in a story, don’t expect them to be much help. However, if you regularly need something new to keep you engaged, there’s plenty on VoyeurHit to explore. I’m determined to do something showstopping, but our offerings are comically limited. No Sheryl Crow, no Michelle Branch. Not even “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

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Everything is exceptionally well-categorized as well, so you should be able to find what you are looking for in seconds. You can introduce yourself to new material if you want to branch out. I would write in my journal, the night before leaving: “There’s something so deliriously pleasurable in the idea of trusting myself enough to know exactly what I want.” I want to get away from her and live a normal life. But I really cannot stand the possibility of my video on the Internet.

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