When On Our Backs, the lesbian magazine, sent me to interview Tara Williams (not her real name), I didn’t know what to expect. All I knew was that she was one of the growing numbers of lesbian and bisexual women who have explored the fetish of sexfighting. From what I could gather, sexfighting is a form of erotic combat. It’s rare, but not all that uncommon. But I’ve apparently led a sheltered life, and I didn’t personally know anyone who was into the scene.
I met Tara at her San Francisco apartment. Tara is a beautiful 35-year old brunette, with heavy waves of thick hair that descend to her waist. She is tall, about five-ten, and weighs 145 pounds. One could describe her as voluptuous, with a heavy firm bosom, long well-shaped legs, and a curvaceous rear end. She has dark eyes and a strong nose. Her face has strong features, but is definitely feminine. She was wearing a long dark gray dress, and was barefoot.
Tara is a Web architect by trade, working independently with many well-known firms in Bay area. We began the interview over cups of strong coffee.
Q: How would you describe your sexual orientation?
A: (Laughs) I’m strongly oriented towards sex. I’m bisexual, with a strong leaning towards women. I have had some relationships with men, but I find more emotional rewards with a girl.
Q: Would you describe what sexfighting is?
A: It’s a lot of fun! (Laughs) Okay, sexfighting, baldly put, is wrestling or fighting with a woman where the goal is to make the other woman orgasm first, or to wear her out sexually. It has other names, such as erotic wrestling, erotic combat, fuckfighting, and so on. It might be a considered as a subset of the S&M scene, but I think it’s so unique it deserves it’s own category. A lot of the women I sexfight with believe so.
Q: I’ve heard that catfights also figure into this.
A: Sometimes. I’ve done some very intense sexfights that involve a more aggressive scenario, with the slapping and hair-pulling. Titfights are another thing I’ve gotten into. As a rule, the rougher stuff is not indulged in as often as the more friendly competition.
Q: So, how did you get into this in the first place.
A: Well, when I was at Berkeley, I had a roommate who was very athletic. She wasn’t a lesbian or bi, but she knew that I was. But she had some friends that were lesbians and very athletic. She introduced me to them. They swam, played tennis, and wrestled.
Q: Where did they wrestle?
A: Usually in the dorm rooms. They’d set up some exercise mats wherever they could (not much room, of course) and practice wrestling holds.
Q: And this is where it started?
A: Not at first. Usually, the wrestling was straight submission style. The girls wore one-piece bathing suits, or leotards. I enjoyed the competition. Strength and skill, pitted against each other, one-on-one. I got to be pretty good at it. I’m a bigger girl than average, and I’m pretty strong. Anyway, sex was something that occurred outside of wrestling. Mostly.
Q: So how did it begin.
A: I was in my room wrestling this one chick I hadn’t wrestled before. She was a tall blonde thing, short hair, nice body. I knew she was a lesbian, but like I said, this was athletic competition. After I had pinned her underneath one time, she tapped out. While we were resting, she mentioned, kind of nervously, if I was interested in trying something new. So I said, what do you have in mind?
She said, Do you want to wrestle naked?
I looked her over. Now, all the body contact, all the rubbing and pressing, can get to you. I did feel a little horny. Why not combine some fun with the exercise? So I said, sure.
She started to peel off her bathing suit. I matched her, move for move. Soon, we’re facing each other on the mat, on our knees. She had a trimmed bush, and it was proof that she was a real blonde. My pussy hair is always kind of thick.
We grabbed each other’s shoulders. Soon, we’re pressed together, tit to tit and belly to belly. I’m really starting to get turned on. Anyway, she gets me off balance, and she pins me. Our breasts have squashed together. I can feel her nipples, very hard, pressing into my tits. Her crotch is right against mine. She moves her hips up, and brings them down. Her pussy hits mine, and it’s fucking great! Soon, were bouncing up against each other, our clits are touching, and it becomes a contest to see who’s going to come first.
Like I said, I’m fairly strong. I worked my arm up to her shoulders and shoved really hard. Quick as a flash, she’s on her back, and I pin her. I shoved her legs apart, and I started humping her. She tries to push me off, but I keep holding her down. She opened her mouth and yelled, and her hips shook underneath me. She came, and then I came. It was intense! I sort of laid on top of her, then I kissed her on the mouth and got up. About twenty minutes later, we did it again, only she got me off first, using three fingers and her mouth.
A: Indeed, wow.
Q: So that started the whole thing.
A: Yes, it did. I found out about the women who were into that. I started meeting some of them and we’d do sexfights at their apartments or houses.
Q: I imagine discretion was important.
A: Absolutely. Look, when you start to get on the fringes of the sexual arena, nutcases abound. You have to be careful. Plus, a lot of women were involved with other partners who did not share their fetish, and there were a few married women.
Q: I know that the catfight thing is a fetish for men as well. Does that apply to sexfighting?
A: You bet. Most of the stuff on the Web is oriented towards men, although a few women are active. You’re going to ask if a man was ever involved in any of my sexfights, aren’t you?
Q: Well, now that you mention it….
A: (Laughs) Well, a few years ago, there was this one time. I was seeing this one woman, a bisexual high-school teacher. We had been intimate for few months, and we had two sexfights. She was pretty good at it for a beginner. She could get her pussy rubbing on mine, really fast. We had some pretty good times. Her name was Marie.
Now this one guy I had known a few years earlier came by. He was a dancer in an avant-garde group, and he was scrumptious. Long, lean body, very good looking, with black hair and blue eyes. I had some very intense moments with Carl, but he was looking for more of an exclusive relationship than I wanted to give. So it ended amicably. Now I love women, but Carl is an incredible fuck. He knows how to use that penis, not to mention his tongue and hands.
Anyway, Carl and Marie were both over at my place. We were just talking and drinking wine. We were all pleasantly buzzed, and Marie and Carl seemed to be hitting it off. Now, Carl knew about by little fetish. It turned him on. At one point, Marie and I were disagreeing about some play we had seen. Carl jokingly suggested we settle it by wrestling.
Maybe it was the phase of the moon, maybe it was the wine. But Marie looked at me and said, Hey, I’d fucking win.
Q: That must have been a challenge.
A: Damn right! So I said, no fucking way. I’d flatten you, then I’d make you come like like a slut.
By now, Carl is sitting on the couch looking at us do the trash talk, and he’s riveted. And Marie and I sense the edge that’s provided by having an audience. So she gets up and comes over to where I’m standing. She looks me in the eye, and says, Okay, let’s get naked and settle it.
I’ve had enough Chablis to say, Okay, right here and right now, bitch!
So we start stripping out of our jeans and tee shirts. We’re down to our underwear and Marie grabs me. We fall to the carpet in front of the coffee table and start rolling around, our hands in each other’s hair, and our legs and arms getting tangled together. Carl stood up and moved to another chair to get a better view.
It doesn’t take long for us to lose our panties and bras. We’re buck naked on the carpet, yelling at each other, calling each other bitch and slut, and then I’m finally on top of her. I pressed my hands down on her tits (she had some nice ones, too) and I’m squeezing. She yelped and started mauling by breasts, getting her fingers down into the fleshy part. We’re really into it now, nipples erect and stiff, and I’m so fucking wet.
We start to hump each other. Carl is sitting stock still in the chair. His legs are apart, and at one point I see this really large lump in his crotch.
I’m on top. I keep fucking Marie, and she starts to shake. Her clit is super hard, and I can feel it hit mine. It’s gonna be close. But she cried out, and she started bucking up and down. She came with a big yell. I won.
But I wanted to teach her a lesson. I sit up on top of her, and I crooked my finger at Carl. He came over like puppet on broken strings. I got up and motioned for him to sit down on Marie’s stomach. He did, his eyes bulging as he looked at her tits and face.
I unzipped him and pulled out his cock. It was long and hard, the hardest cock I’ve felt it my life. I stroked him twice. It was all he needed.
He yelled and thrust his hips forward, and a big stream of come just shot out and landed on Marie’s tits. She looked up just in time to get a blast of come in the face. He jerked again, and she was plastered on the lips.
When he was done, her tits and face were just covered with white. I’ve got to give her credit. She didn’t get all super upset with what I’d done, or Carl coming over her. In fact, it pretty much turned us all on. The rest of the night, I’ll leave to your imagination.
Q: Good God! You know, if you had taped that, you could have made a fortune.
A: (Laughs) That had occurred to me.
Q: Could you tell us about some more memorable sexfights?
Q: Does any sexfight stand out as particularly erotic?
A: Well, a few years ago, I had something happen to me that’s pretty rare. I had a most stimulating bout with a stranger. To this day, I don’t know her true name.
Q: So sexfights with someone you don’t know usually don’t happen.
A: Generally speaking, anonymous sex in the lesbian community is not that common. And a sexfight is something that requires a great degree of trust. That’s why it almost always occurs between people who’ve already been intimate.
Q: I’m intrigued. How did this come about?
A: I had a client in the Virgin Islands. They wanted to set up a Web portal for their tourist business. So I flew out there to discuss features, pricing, etc. They put me up in first class hotel on the beach. It was fabulous.
After a long day of talking about page design, features, system requirements, I was looking forward to a couple of quick drinks and a quiet evening. I went down the hotel bar, a nice little thatch-roof building where some reggae music was playing softly.
I was in my “island” garb. I had a long, blue wraparound skirt, sort of like a sarong. I was wearing high-heeled sandals, bare-legged, and a matching blue bikini top. My hair was just as long then as it is now, and it was flowing down over my back.
I took a table, and started on a rum punch. The evening was mild, and there were only a few other people in the place. I sipped my drink, listened to the music, and was starting to feel very mellow.
Then I saw an incredibly beautiful woman walk in. She was just gorgeous. Obviously a black and native islander mix, with some Caucasian thrown in as well.. Her skin was classic café au lait. She was tall, about my height, but leaner in build. Her breasts were high and firm, a C-cup shading into a D. Narrower hips than mine, but an ass that just begged to be squeezed. She was wearing a long white gown that rose over her breasts and tied in back of her neck. Simple low-heeled sandals completed the package. The dress was slit up to her hips on the side. The material was semi-translucent. I could see the shadow of her nipples and dusky skin underneath.
She passed in front of a bright light as she walked to the bar, and it was clear she wore absolutely nothing under the dress.
Q: So it was lust at first sight?
A: Major, breath-catching lust. I felt my nipples get stiff. I felt my labia start to soften and swell. I was smitten.
Q: So what happened next?
A: She ordered a vodka martini and sat down at the bar. She turned around to survey the room. I remember ducking my eyes as her face came into view, but I looked as her gaze moved by. It was a striking face. Long, black hair came down in a spiral perm, draping over her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, slightly tilted. The face was oval, and she had a slight, mysterious smile. Even then, I could see her expression was…challenging.
I was wondering if I could approach her and how. I was wondering if she was lesbian or at least bi, and if she wanted to do anything. I was as nervous as a fourteen-year-old boy asking the head cheerleader out for a date.
Then she caught my eye. She tilted her head and made a slight motion of acknowledgement. I raised my glass to her and smiled, ever so slightly. Then she eased herself of the barstool and walked to my table. Watching her walk was a delight. She glided on those long, dark legs.
She said, in English, with a little French lilt to the words, “Hello, I noticed you sitting all alone. May I join you?” Her voice was musical.
So I said, “Certainly. It would be nice to have someone to talk to. I’m Tara Williams.”
She took my hand in hers, and squeezed it softly, almost a caress. “Hello, Tara. Perhaps I should explain that I think that names can hide as much as they reveal. For this evening, I wish to be known as Satin.”
“Satin. That’s beautiful. It suits you.”
“Thank you, cherié.” She took a sip of her drink. “Tara Williams, I sometimes come here and I am bored. There are no interesting people here. But tonight, I am not bored. I am intrigued. You are not the ordinary American tourist.”
Her words excited me. Could she be interested? I tried to control my breathing and sound casual. “Perhaps not ordinary. I would very much like to be intriguing.”
She smiled again, and said, “So, we shall see. Would you like to dance?”
“I would love to.”
The music had changed to an Afro-Cuban piece. The drums were…compelling. We went out on the small dance floor and moved. She really got into the rhythm, her legs and arms and body shaking in a rapid tempo. Her legs would come into view during her steps, almost up to her groin. I tried to keep in time with her, but I was so aroused by watching her move I knew I wasn’t a perfect partner. I just wanted to sit back and watch her twist and shake that gorgeous body.
The quick number ended, and it went to a relaxed island tune, more suited for slow dancing. I stood there a second, then she took my hand in hers, and we started moving to the music. I had not expected the close contact. I think I shivered.
Her touch was firm. Her arm was strong against my lower back, just over the skirt. She looked at me, a ghost of a smile.
I don’t know exactly when it changed, but it did. As we danced, her hand started squeeze mine tighter. Well, I do not shrink from anything like that. I squeezed back. Then she pulled me in a little closer. I answered her with my own arm pressure.
The distance between our bodies started to shrink. Before I knew it, we were dancing with our breasts pressed against each other, and the intensity of the pressure was increasing. I really started to wonder about Satin.
Q: So now it’s sort of a contest?
A: Exactly. I’m still really enjoying the dance, but now there’s an added element. It was a long number, so the dancing and squeezing continued.
I could feel her nipples stiffen. They pressed into the tops of my breasts. She pulled her head back and looked at me. There was a question in her eyes.
I swirled her around, and she swung out on my arm as it extended. Then I pulled back, very strong, she came slamming back into me. My breasts slammed into hers. We both gasped.
Now at this point, some of the other people in the bar were looking at us. It’s not that unusual to see women dance together, but this something else.
Satin moved her mouth to my ears as we whirled in our dancing bear hug. She whispered, “Cherié, I am hoping you like this. If you do, I know a place where we can finish it.”
So I moved my mouth to her ear and said softly, “Oh, yes. We have to finish this.”
The song ended. We left the bar quickly, the people inside staring at us.
When we got outside, Satin indicated a new Jeep. We got in. I hiked my skirt up to my thighs to get on my seat. She also pulled her dress up. She turned to me, and said, “I did so hope that you wanted this.”
I asked her, “So how did you know to even try?”
She said, “Something about you…your face, the way you danced…said you could be a lover…and a fighter.”
She started the Jeep and we drove off in the warm tropical night. It wasn’t too long before we came to private gravel road. We turned into that, and soon I saw a small, charming beach house. It was about a hundred yards from a small section of beach, an alcove almost. The night was gorgeous. It looked like there were a million stars out.
She parked by front door, and we got out. She led me into the house, through a small living room and kitchen, and out back into a large wooden deck with a spa and lounge chairs. There were several large mats by the spa. She flipped a switch and soft yellow lights came on. There was a small ice chest. She opened it and got a couple of splits of Dom Perigon. She expertly opened the champagne, and handed me one bottle. We drank large swallows of the delicious bubbly, right from the bottle.
I decided to start things. I put down my bottle on a small table. I kicked off my sandals. I walked up to her. She set her bottle down. We stood inches apart.
She said, “Cherié, you have beautiful breasts. Are they strong as well as pretty?”
I reached behind my back and undid the tie. I lifted the bikini top off, working it around my head and long hair. I dropped it on the deck.
“What do you think, Satin?” I asked.
She undid the knot at the back of her neck. The top of her dress slid down, revealing the dark skinned tits with large stiff nipples. She slipped off her sandals.
“Now!” I yelled.
We grabbed each other around the waist and slammed our breasts together. Oh, God, it was fucking wonderful! It had been a couple of months for me since I had a sexfight, and I was reveling in the sheer pleasure of the tit-to-tit contact. The shock, the sudden pain was like a tonic. I grunted, then I took one arm and grabbed her head. I pulled her face to mine and I was kissing her, hard. She opened her mouth and her tongue started fighting mine. In the meantime, our breasts are in full contact, hard and rough. Our nipples are stiff and when they touch each other, it’s shocking and delicious.
We start swinging our torso’s from side to side, and our tits are hitting each other. I can still hear that slapping sound, and feel that hard ecstasy. I can feel my cunt start to moisten. I’m getting soaked.
Still tit-fighting, she reached down and found the knot on my skirt. I take my hands and place them on the waist line of her skirt, working my fingers under the bunched up material. She undid the knot. My skirt fell in a puddle to the deck. I kicked it away and I pushed down on her dress. It fell past her hips and we were naked, rubbing our breasts.
I called out, “Time!”
We stepped back and looked at each other, breathing hard. Our hands moved to our battered breasts, softly holding them. We were breathing very fast.
Q: Did you have any thoughts about this when it was going on?
A: Mostly I couldn’t believe how fucking lucky I was. This beautiful woman picks me up in a bar and has an incredible home on the island. And we’re participating in a sexfight that’s blowing my mind.
Q: So what happened next?
A: Well, we’re facing each other, standing about five feet apart. We’re starting to catch our breath. I noticed that she had a closely trimmed pussy. I could see the dark lips, slightly apart. I saw that she stared at mine, which is usually pretty hairy.
We started to move slowly towards each other. First our hands meet, down at our sides. We grasped each other’s hands, and squeezed. We then brought our hands up, over our heads. As we did this, our chests rose, our tits got higher, and our nipples touched again.
We embraced, gently this time. Our hips moved together and our bushes brushed into each other. While our breasts softly slid together, we rubbed our cunts together and kissed.
The beat of our movement quickened. Our pussy lips would splay outward as they hit each other, and we would grab our butts and grind against each other. God, we were so damned wet! I could feel the juice drip from my pussy. My clit was as stiff as a board, and I could feel it touch hers. We both let out little yips of joy when that happened.
Soon the pussy fight got to be too intense to continue standing up. We were both moaning, and she was muttering what I think were French endearments into my ear. We lowered ourselves down to the mat, and she mounted me.
Satin panted, “Here it comes, Cherié. Oh, Mon Dieu!”
She brought her hips down onto mine. My legs were spread so wide and my cunt welcomed her crushing sensual impact, her bristly wet snatch pushing into me. I normally want to make the other woman come first – it’s just my dominant streak – but this exotic beauty had me intoxicated.
I wrapped my legs around her waist as her ass rose and fell. I placed my hands on that delightful butt and squeezed. We were both in fine voice, crying our combative lust to the stars. I could feel my orgasm approaching. It was like a rubber band being wound, getting tighter and tighter. Soon….soon….oh, sweet God, fuck me, you incredible bitch!
When I came, I damned near bucked her off me, my hips were bouncing about like a jumping jack. And right behind me, she screamed out and started coming. I felt my cunt spurt out a stream of female ejaculate, right onto her pussy. I was slammed with libidinous quakes. Every bit of me was coming, from my toes to my eyebrows.
After the quaking subsided, we sat up. She knee-walked over to the table and got the champagne bottles. She handed one to me, and I drank the fizzing wine down gratefully.
She sat down on the pad, and sipped her drink.
She idly caressed her wet slit while she looked at me. “Oh, Tara, that was miraculous, no? You and I, we found something out of fantasy.”
I extended my bare foot and rubbed the sole on her coffee-with-cream colored thigh. “Satin, it did seem like something out of a fairy tale. But not like the fairy tales I read when I was a little girl.”
She smiled at me. “Oh, no. So what kind of fairy tale is it when the two princesses fight and make love at the same time?”
I said, “The best kind.”
Q: Was that the end?
A: Oh, no! After that, we got in the spa. She turned on the aerator, and we finger-fucked each other in the hot water as a million bubbles tickled our skin. This time, I made her come first, pumping three fingers in and out of her cunt as she did the same to me. She clutched my neck with her arm, crying out again and again as the contractions shook her. The juices just poured out of her.
Then she kissed me roughly as she worked her fingers in my pussy. She hit the G-spot, and then I came and came. God, what a night! But the best was yet to come.
Q: What topped that?
A: After we recovered from the second orgasm, she got out of the tub, and said, “Follow me, cherié.” Naked, she left the deck and went around the house on a grass path.
I followed. She led through a path with wild growth on either side. Ever so often, a dim yellow lamp on a post gave just enough light to see by.
We came out onto the beach. Twenty yards away was a stunningly beautiful sight. Under a sky brimming with stars, the ocean crashed onto the beach. The phosphorescent plankton were plentiful, and dim sparkles of golden light fired up as the waves broke.
Satin looked at me and said, “Is magic, no?”
I held my breath. I’ve never seen such an ethereally haunting sight. The Milky Way was overhead, running from horizon to horizon. The sound of the waves was hypnotic. It was like every beautiful dream you’ve ever had, and when you wake up and realize it wasn’t real, part of you cries.
Satin took my hand, and we ran down to the beach, laughing with delight. We trotted out into the water. The waves were about three or four feet high, and we dived into them. We danced and swam in the luminescent surf, touching each other here and there, caressing a pussy here, kissing a stiff nipple there.
We joined our hands and body surfed, our legs tangling together, our hair dripping with the warm salt water.
Eventually, we scissored our legs together in the shallows, and as the waves hit us, we battled with our cunts again. We dug our hands into the wet sand for leverage, and moaned our need and lust as we crushed our pussies together. The water would crash down over our heads, and still we smashed our aching cunts into each other.
We struggled in erotic war under a jeweled sky, in the shining ocean until we screamed our orgasm to the stars and the surf.
To this day, I treasure that memory, and the memory of Satin.
Q: And you never saw her again?
A: Much later, she drove me back to my hotel room. We kissed. “Au revoir, cherié,” she said softly.
Somehow I managed to get through the next day. I asked around. No one at the bar or hotel knew who she really was. I rented a car, and tried to trace the path to that house. I failed.
(Long pause) Perhaps it’s best. Perhaps the very best things in life are singular.
Q: Tara, I think we can finish here. You have certainly shown that sexfighting is very erotic activity. But it sounds like it’s more than that.
A: Aggression has always been a component of sex. Done properly, it adds a great deal to the enjoyment. We struggle in our daily lives, against others and ourselves. We are competitors. But we need not be enemies. Erotic combat uses struggle to achieve closeness.
Q: Thank you, Tara.
A: You’re welcome.