The Slut Limbo


# I Have No Will

I had been off sex for almost 3 months but last night, decadence called again with the outrageous Skirt Club Party. Girls only in a top floor private flat with terrace looking over the infinite possibilities of East London.

I am on an intense phase where I am paving my way to a healthy personal future with no violence or conflict. I am therefore rewiring my brain to sweeter stuff, at the emotional and physical level. (As I am writing this, a giant LOL sign is flashing in my head… not sure why). It doesn’t feel that’s too much to demand from life, right?

But last night all my good resolutions got screwed with me.

# Covered With Sugar

It all took off (the night + my bra) with the Tequila shots game, which I inaugurated. I had to lie down on a table. The bartender that I really like and do nothing to hide it covered me with ice and sugar which 2 girls had to lick off my body. When getting to my mouth, they drank a shot and were picking a strawberry from my lips. That gets a party started.

# Sweet Pea Girl

This too beautiful to be true Hollywood looking girl arrived late with her girlfriend. Literally everyone was glued to her. She actually was the Barbie doppelganger of my iconic friend H, which weirded me out a little when I got into stuff with her. But she was taking Marilyn Monroe style facial expressions and was calling everyone ‘Sweet Pea’ so I couldn’t possibly take the whole thing seriously. She was lovely though… at every level.

# Losing it

After several episodes, I lost track at some point. I found myself in bed with about 11 other girls and we all mingled. Then, all sense of time & space of who was doing what to which part of me disappeared. And reciprocally. Limbs, lips, tongues, hands, skin, hair were spinning around me at 360º.

I have to say that in occasional moments like this I get out of my head and get intensely blinded by a violent feeling of freedom. I can even say a violent feeling of happiness. Super furtive, but super strong, like a huge shot of adrenaline. Sex is empowering like nothing else.

# Lakota Girl

The bartender that I like and do nothing to hide it is fascinating. She’s a tattooed native Amerindian girl from the Lakota tribe. I made her the most peculiar first impression though. A while ago, at the inaugural party, I was all corseted and heartbroken and I ended up throwing up in my cleavage from her too strong cocktails. She had to sponge cause she was on duty, and then she gave me a speech on binge drinking as if I was 14. That was the most funny & embarrassing way ever to find out you like someone. She keeps reminding me about this episode – we laugh about it because I love making fun of myself and for others to do so – so we have this weird connection. Last night I told her how frustrated I was that I made this first impression, but she replied that I was still tiny and cute.

After her shift, she hanged out with the few girls left and told us hilarious anecdotes. She was featured in a porn movie years ago where she did no sex but had to say a silly line to a girl doing pull-ups. The line was something like: ” Oh, look at these muscles you have!” and after she said it she was hit by the stupidity of the situation and fainted. They had to do another take. She is fabulous. I am feeling all gross teenagy around her (binge drinking aside).

# Meeting the Parents

There is an after effect to any type of getting high. Most of the girls there have boyfriends. Some are even married. There were 2 steady couples of girls. Most people go back to someone who is morally responsible for them after wildness. I think I was the only single lez (as opposed to bisexual) with no affective stability. So, yes, the cooling down can be brutal. Sometimes it may be more difficult than some others. I was all happy yesterday. No affective badtrip, no hard return to reality. Only question marks in my head.

Last time I went to this particular party was in February. I threesomed all night with 2 girls who are now a happy couple. From the dynamic of the trio, I knew from the beginning that they would end up together. Sweet! They weren’t at the party yesterday because they are on an introducing-the-parents trip. Six months from threesome to meeting the parents. I am 31 and I have never been introduced to any parents. Why? Is that a subconscious choice of mine? Is that my nature? Am I condemned to wander in the Slut Limbo for the rest of my life and write about it?

# Sunday Morning

Don’t get me wrong. I love my life. I love my freedom. I am just questioning my ability for emotional 1-2-1 in bed. I was the last one to leave the party in the early hours of Sunday. I kissed Lakota Girl and the pretty organiser of the night at the door. She told me: “You were the star of the show for a moment!” Oh yeah? My peach bum was an ephemeral centre of attention. I replied in a smile that I couldn’t see anything going on, as it all took place behind me.

At the bus stop, a tipsy guy asked me what I had been up to. I told him the truth very simply. He thought that granted him the right to put his arm around my shoulders. Life is a jungle. I was feeling good, though.

I love the sexy fog of the following day.

Happy Birthday Morning Glory!

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This morning, I woke up at 5am to celebrate a one of a kind birthday: the Morning Glory was blowing its first candle! It was my first time, and I was there for the big party.

I didn’t know what the Morning Glory was until I was randomly told about it last month by a mysterious Argentinian angel met on one of the numerous 5 Rhythms dance floors that I frequent.

The Morning Glory is a pre-work healthy rave party that kicks in on week days at 6.30 am in a spacious east London warehouse. It spread to any major big fun city of the world over the last year (NYC, San Fran, Brighton, Paris, Tokyo… and Zurich). Drugs and alcohol are replaced by smoothie, coffee, and stretching. But everything else is fairly ravy. Beautiful peeps turn into creatures for a moment and jump together in fabulous extravaganza outfits.

It took me almost 2 hours to get there from North West London. I am not used to apprehending the city that early (unless I haven’t slept at all). It was an adventure to make my way there and I was about to give up when I spotted on the street a bunch of people wearing feather boas. I smelled that the fun was close and it pumped me up.

At the entrance, people were in line to get their (almost) mandatory glitter on before getting in the venue. O my Lord! Is this Heaven? It is Wednesday 7am and someone is asking me: “So, which colour of glitter would you like on?” I picked PINK all over my cheekbone.

I got on the dance floor with about 200 other people and embarrassingly found out that everyone was super fancy dressed. I was stunned by the creativity of certain people. Not only was there more glitter than my super tenured eye could endure, but there were masks, feathers, generally eye-stinging stuff, and animal outfits everywhere (zebra, dinosaur, cow, loads of butterflies). AND my yoga teacher on stage in a Wonder Woman costume. She rocked that cape move. Namaste.

I didn’t know it was this much of a rave, and as a matter of fact, I was dressed all black for the first time of my life – which by the way made me one of the most original of the room. It’s all relative.

We jumped, we danced, we sang happy birthday, we rapped, we sweated, we had smoothie/water/glitter break, we collectively hugged our respective neighbour. It is refreshing to see happy shiny people in the morning.

I had to leave at 9 because my “doctor’s appointment” was allowing me no more than an hour delay at work.

I almost forgot to remove the glitter off my face before my corporate Skype meeting.