First-Timers by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Author:Rachel Kramer Bussel [Bussel, Rachel Kramer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Lesbian, Erotica, Lesbians, lesbian erotica, Lesbianism in Literature, Short Stories (Single Author), Sexual Behavior
ISBN: 9781555839475
Google: eSqGAAAAIAAJ
Amazon: 1555839479
Publisher: Alyson Books
Published: 2006-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Six years ago this summer I had sex for the first time. I was sixteen, I was going to Rocky Horror every weekend, I was a stellar student, I was a queer youth community activist. I was trying to look femme goth and act brooding punk sexpot and still be respectable enough to give Homo 101 lectures to hapless straight people twice my age. I wanted to fuck badly, I wanted to know more about my body than I actually did, but I was too ashamed to ask anyone the questions that were constantly rattling around in my brain. This being queer thing had to do with sexuality, of course—how could it not?—but I straddled the party line, talked a lot about queerness being all about "who you love" and "respecting difference." I resented the idea that you had to be having sex to be queer—because I hadn't been having sex when I'd come out as a dyke five years before, and I still knew what I liked.

But then, what I liked was part of the problem. The things I thought about in bed at night—the parts of me that wanted to be fucked, hit, tied down, pissed on—well, queer youth activists didn't talk about those things, not to the community at large, not to other community members. I was supposed to be a good queer, a good feminist, and above all, I was supposed to be respectable. Being sexual meant being vulnerable, it meant being dirty. Being a pervert meant being even more on the fringes than I was already. And anyway, what if all these things were connected to my childhood sexual abuse? S/M felt so tied up in my survivor issues, I just couldn't bring myself to go there. But god, I wanted to.

The day after I ended my sophomore year of high school, I skulked around in the feminist section of Forrest Books in North Beach. I was too scared and ashamed to buy actual porn. I worried what my feminist friends would think of me, I worried what my intellectual friends would think of me, and I worried what the cashier would think of me—even though we were, in fact, in North Beach, and the bookstore was flanked on all sides by strip clubs. So I bought a book of essays by Susie Bright instead. The book is from the mid-eighties, Susie's wearing a latex dress on the cover and grinning wildly. This book seemed more respectable, somehow, more literary than the erotica anthology I'd also been eyeing. These were essays, after all—despite the fact that the title of the book included the word Sexpert.

I still don't quite know how to describe the intense effect Susie’s work had on my sixteen-year-old self. My transition from being scared of sex to sex-positivity seems very quick—but I think I'd just been waiting for a catalyst. I started using the word sex-positive to describe myself. I became much less ashamed of my own perversity, even though I still didn't talk about it with anyone.

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