Is ‘Queer Sex’ still une experimentale trop wilde et forbideunnee for London’s Sex Scene?
The London sex party scene rich and varied, and is, in many places, totally sex-positive, body-positive, and inclusive. But there are dark corners, (corneurs noirs as some would have it) where normative aesthetic standards, social elitism, and suffocating heteronormativity fester. Killing Kittens (KK), one of London’s most renowned and high-profile sex parties, is one of them. The fliers, particularly for women-only event Le Salon Noir, make queerness a fetishised ‘walk on the wild side’- a freaky excursion into a murky darkness.
KK mostly throws parties involving heterosexual couples and single women (who, creepily and unlike couples and single men, don’t pay)- because, in the KK-conceived universe no man could want to experiment with other men, and no threesome could possibly involve male bisexuality.
Killing Kittens is purportedly for ‘the world’s sexual elite’ and even calls itself ‘a movement and community whose sole aim is the unwavering pursuit of female sexual pleasure.’ There are elements of the KK world which are pro-female pleasure, at least in theory, such as their rule dictating that only women can make the first move- though this in itself poses some problems as to how male sexuality is figured in these contexts.
So who are these women who are having sexual pleasure showered upon them wherever they wander within this magical wonderland?
By all accounts, they’re not queer. In fact, I’m not sure the regime of KKistan thinks ‘queer’ is even a thing. Non-heterosexual orientation has no conceptual place — instead it crouches on the corners of heterosexuality: a wild side, a forbidden alter ego, an experiment.
It’s an ele(sbian)phant in KKistan’s bedroom. It is somehow inconceivable to use the words gay or queer or bisexual, let alone suggest that those might be legitimate sexual orientations rather than kinky side-shows to your obviously heterosexual bent. Sorry. Straight. Your obviously heterosexual straight. You’re obviously heterosexual: straight.
The Flier for ‘Le Salon Noir’ which appeared in my inbox particularly rubbed me up the wrong way which, for an ad for an all-women’s sex party, is something of a feat.
Excusez moi… Ou est le Salon Noir? Á definitely-not-gay-but-maybe-’kinky’ Paris? Mais Oui!
So, clearly, only French women fuck each other. And it has to be in the very dark noir. Eyes wide fermés, gals.
the wild side
Homosexuality is wild and mad and dangerous. Sure- take a wild walk, but be sure to leave a nice trail of heterosexual breadcrumbs to make sure you get home safe.
deep dark female-inspired fantasies if you dare
Aside from being a hideous alliterative clusterfuck — your fantasies are deep and dark (nobody who isn’t mad — or perhaps French — could possibly have conscious, acknowledged, or comfortable fantasies about women) and daring; and let’s call them ‘female-inspired’ rather than gay or lesbian. It’s more poetic. Or something.
experiment
… What if you already know? What if you’re a queer woman already? This excludes the queers among us who don’t find sex with women inherently more or less experimental than sex with men… My ‘curiosity’ about sex with a woman is roughly on a level with sex with a man- what will it be like? You literally never know. With any gender. It’s always an experiment. With everyone.
gorge yourself
Women are sexual products to be consumed. Even in a supposedly pro-woman environment. Even if you also are one.
Queer female sexuality suffers marginalisation aplenty under the pounding heat of the Sauron-like male gaze: why a sex scene run by a woman, purportedly for women, needs to act as envoy for such scorching heteronormativity, couriering this envelope of steaming bullshit directly into my inbox, is utterly mystifying.
I’m massively in favour for enabling environments for sexual play and trying new things, but compartmentalising any (consensual and enjoyable) play as a dissociated ‘wild side’ rather than learning, accepting and incorporating new and shifting elements of self and sexuality (or just recovering from our compulsion to label things altogether?), while marginalising homosexuality is a toxic piece of messaging I’m uncomfortable being a part of. I’ve unsubscribed.
Let’s leave behind our sense of guiltily experimenting in the dark: let’s step unblinkingly into the playground, and into le soleil.
