Let’s talk about straps, baby.

 

Raw, realistic sex is a touchy, controversial subject for a lot of lesbians, and one I get quite a bit of mail about.
My books are character driven and tend to have a butch/femme dynamic, so strap-on sex and power play are things that you’ll find on the pages, and we all know I don’t shy away from heat. Let’s start with the most common question I get about this issue:

Why are there strap-ons and sex toys in your books so frequently? Aren’t two women who love each other enough? Why do you have to go there?

I can’t count how many times I’ve been asked this, sometimes with a real sense of anger behind it, and I get it.
Listen, from the time we hit the ground, most of us were taught to hide our sexuality, or at the very least, sanitize and dilute it down to make it palatable and unthreatening to the skeptical masses. Two feminine presenting women gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes and lightly touching hands feels a hell of a lot more “acceptable” than a masc lifting her girlfriend up against a brick wall in a dark alley, wrapping her legs around her waist and fucking her hard and hot until she hears her come against the side of her neck.
Google lesbian wedding and tell me what you see as an overiding image…? It’s two twenty-something femmes in white dresses, maybe the occasional feminine suit worn with heels, their long hair done up in cascading waves, holding sparklers and flashing matching glossy smiles and subtle makeup.
Why is that, when the majority of us look a lot more like Jodie Foster than Taylor Swift? Why is that the optics when mascs and butches are a huge part of our community and culture? The same reason, because it’s easier to deal with than the reality of how we love.

Raw, realistic lesbian sexuality is still hard for a lot of people to feel comfortable with, from both the Alphabet Mafia (LGTBQ+) and mainstream straight cultures. …And I don’t care. I don’t give one single shit who can’t handle the real ways we love, fuck and bond with each other. I refuse to sanitize my sex scenes in case someone finds a strap “too graphic” (every damn book) or has a huge issue with one character tied to the headboard while the other straddles her chest and strokes herself to a scorching orgasm one inch from mouth (Wild Wales.) I’m not reckless, and no one is more cautious and overt about consent and care in these scenes, but once the readers know that the characters are all in, we’re going to see how women really love each other.
Whether it’s Sam having the skill to fuck Sarah from behind and add that touch from the outside that melts her into the strongest orgasm of her life (McCall) or Amir fucking Loch at the crumbling edge of that cliff, thunder cracking the sky above them and the ocean crashing against the cliffs below (Innis Harbor), I want you to see your sex life in these stories, or perhaps even better, the sex life you want to have, not just the version that has been diluted down to be sure no one is offended.
Can anyone forget how Parker positions Alessia under that warm Italian waterfall so the perfect gentle stream of water fell her clit while she fucked her with an intensity that was almost too much…from the other side of the falling water ?(Last First Kiss)
What about Alex bending Lily over that yacht balcony, then fucking her deep and achingly slow under the moonlight falling over the arched curve of Lily’s back like a stream of molten silver? (Return to McCall)
Those scenes stick in reader’s minds, as they do mine….because they’re real.

Listen, is it easier to read about sanitized sex and pristine white sheets? Yes. But deep down, in the privacy of the space we create between you and I as you read….wouldn’t you rather read about how we really fuck, challenge and love each other?

Good. Because I’m going to keep giving it to you.