I’m not an exhibitionist. I just enjoy having sex in front of large groups of people.
Allow me to explain.
What I love about sex education isn’t just giving solid, real information about sex, anatomy, and sexuality, it’s also role-modeling for people what’s possible. Often this means I use my body and my sexuality to give people permission to explore their own identity and proclivities and to let people know that there doesn’t have to be shame and fear associated with the way they like to have sex.
I believe a lot of healing can happen by watching real people have real, connected sex and intimacy. Understanding that humans can enjoy sexuality together in a myriad of ways can help undo a lot of the sexual shame so many of us are brought up with.
I feel like it’s a gift I can share by being
comfortable with myself. It doesn’t mean that I like everything or
do everything, god knows. But it does mean that I when I find
something I do like, I want to spread the gospel.
In 2007 I’m at Burning Man for the inaugural year of a women’s camp called Camp Beaverton. I’m tending camp when a beautiful person with tangerine-colored hair and an impish grin strolls up. They start asking me questions about the camp, and all I can do is wonder where I recognize them from. They ask questions. I answer. Back and forth it goes until an image fills my brain of this person, coming like a firehouse on their lover’s face. I realize I’m recalling a scene from a porn called The Crash Pad.
I saw this movie as part of Outfest, the LGBT film fest in Los Angeles. If you ever want to see a room full of 200 women squirm, show them a porno starring hot dykes and genderqueers. Lesbians are not used to that whole thing. Porn is one of the places where the “G” of the acronym have the decidedly upper hand.
The person talking to me is one of the stars of the film The Crash Pad, and was, in my opinion, the most compelling by a mile. Their name is Jiz Lee, San Francisco’s genderqueer porn darling. I do everything I can to maintain my composure as my insides (especially the lower ones) squee with delight.
We hit it off and we end up spending the night together, and it’s wonderful. The next day we decide we want to hook up again, so we commandeer my friend’s minivan to have a rare, dust-free Burning Man sex experience.
We’re having hand sex, and Jiz asks me to add more fingers.
Always happy to accommodate, I upgrade from
two fingers (delightful) to three (fantastic). Then they ask
for
another. I add my fourth finger (smashing). We’re fucking like that
for a while when Jiz asks me to give them my whole hand.
As a sex educator, I am aware of the mechanics of fisting, but I had yet to do it myself. The whole idea is to make your hand as long and narrow as possible. First, you take your four fingers and squeeze them together as tightly as you can, tucking the pinky to the index finger, making your hand into an arrowhead of love. Then you stretch your thumb across your palm so that it’s tucked against the first segments of your two middle fingers. I know these steps. This is as far as I’d ever gotten.
I have my fingers inside of Jiz, and I start putting pressure on the entrance of their vagina. My hand eases in, until I get to the first hardest part.
What’s the first hardest part? The lowest knuckles, aka The Widest Part of the Hand.
I add some lube. We take a few deep breaths. I check in with Jiz, and they give me a nod that they’re doing great.
I literally press onward.
I get to the second hardest part. What is the second hardest part? It is the base of the thumb. That lowest knuckle is a bear. No matter how tight you tuck, it just doesn’t want to flatten out. Bones are a bitch that way.
Nevertheless, we breathe and I ease in. Jiz asks, “Will you make a fist?”
So I tuck my fingers and make a fist. My whole hand is inside Jiz.
And I have the single most profound physical experience of my life. I had never felt so connected during sex as in that moment. I imagine that it feels like what men get to feel, to have such an important part of your body enveloped by your lover’s.
It is deep. It is profound. It is beautiful. It is the most intimate thing I have ever felt.
Boys and girls, this is how Allison Moon got hooked on fisting.
A few years later, I move from Los Angeles to Oakland. Jiz and I are still great friends, and they invite me to their 30th birthday party.
I read the invitation and find out it is a live-streamed orgy at the Crash Pad—the venue where they film all their porn.
Now, I had done a lot of performative sex before. I’ve demo modeled for sex workshops, I’ve been to orgies, I’ve done live sex performance, but porn was one of those things I’d never tried. I’d considered it, but I just couldn’t ever get there. I love porn and the people who make it. I just had some reservations I couldn’t quite reconcile.
But I figured a 30-person orgy would be a great place to pop that cherry. I could disappear into the background and be some sort of “orgy extra” making out at the edge of the screen, slightly out of focus.
I go to the party, and like any porn set, it’s a lot of people awkwardly standing around waiting for things to happen.
There are some technical difficulties from the start, so I spend most of my time eating carrot sticks in my underwear.
I’m trying to figure out how I can play. My other friends who are there aren’t really feeling the vibe, but I do want to participate in some way. It’s Jiz’s birthday after all. I want to give them a gift.
Jiz gets the party rolling by giving 30 blow jobs around the bed. I stand in the doorway watching, and a small freckled trans man named Martin sidles up to me. We start chatting and he’s lovely.
Martin asks if I want to play, and I say, “What do you want to do?”
“How would you feel about getting fisted?” he asks.
At this point, I had never taken a fist before. But the dude was tiny. So I say what anyone should say when they’re contemplating getting fisted, which is, “Show me your hand.”
He holds up his hand in the international symbol for “You can totally take this” which is, again, fingers pulled in tight, thumb tucked across and up.
I’m delighted to find that his hand isn’t much girthier than my primary partner’s penis.
By this point there are at least fifteen people on the bed with many others surrounding it. We find ourselves a tiny sliver of free bed amongst the throng of writhing bodies. I scootch on the bed and remove my panties. Martin grabs a glove and lube and kneels in front of me. I take a breath and relax. Martin starts warming me up, rubbing my vulva and playing with my clit. It feels delightful.
He gives me one finger and I barely notice it. He adds the second and it feels nice. He adds a third, and it’s lovely. He inserts the fourth and, yep, this is sensation. This is what sensation feels like.
I go to my happy place.
Breathe and relax.
I ignore the writhing bodies around me.
Breathe and relax.
I pretend there are no such things as video cameras.
Breathe and relax.
I am on a beach, on a river, sipping a Mai Tai.
Breathe and relaaaaax.
Martin puts pressure against the opening of my vagina with his knuckles. I feel those first four knuckles ease in.
I am on the line of pleasure and terror. Things are…stretching.
Breathe and relax.
This is what the vagina is designed to do. It stretches. Nothing is wrong. It’s all part of the plan.
Breathe and relax.
Martin eases his knuckles in, then his thumb. It is a lot of sensation.
Breathe and relax.
I’m in my happy place. It’s quiet and warm.
Martin moves his hand into a fist. He whispers, “It’s in.”
I open my eyes and look down at him. His face is flushed. There are beads of sweat at his hairline. He smiles at me. I smile back.
Then I see the camera over his shoulder.
And I remember.
“Oh yeah! WE’RE SHOOTING A PORNO!”
Breathe and relax!
And my pussy is the star of the fucking show.
Breathe and relax!
Allison’s vagina, live streaming to your home.
Breathe and relax!
Instead, everything in me clenches.
Martin is now stuck in me like a monkey in a trap. He can’t undo his fist or move his hand. He is stuck in me. We are in this together.
We’re fine, I tell myself. This is beautiful. This is educational.
I look around at the room at all the people having sex. Right next to me on the bed, facing in the opposite direction, is a beautiful woman getting fucked by a hot genderqueer person in a strap-on.
She smiles at me and I smile back. I reach out my hand and she takes it. I turn back to Martin and say, “Let’s do this.”
Martin starts fucking me with his fist. I feel everything: my cervix, my g-spot, my uterus. Everything is alive. Martin is deeper inside of me than anyone ever had been before.
Fisting is awesome, I think as Martin is wrist-deep in me. So, so, awesome.
I close my eyes and indulge in the sensations. My vagina relaxes around Martin’s hand and everything starts to feel fantastic.
I open my eyes and grind on Martin. We share a sweet smile. And there’s that camera over his shoulder, still trained on my pussy. Hello, America.
Then I turn my head to the right and see another camera. This one is focused on my face. The only two cameras for the whole orgy are now all up in my business.
If I didn’t want to be in porn, now is a little late to decide. I try not to get too consumed in the possible consequences, lest Martin lose circulation in his arm.
Instead, I think of the educational possibilities. I believe in the profound expansive experience that can happen when you watch two people have connected sex. What can I do right now that can communicate to those people watching at home in De Moines or wherever that what’s happening is good and beautiful and possibly something they might want to try in their own lives?
I try to channel all the feelings I’m having in my groin and move them to my face. I start giggling. I flinch. I smile. I moan. I scream. I cry.
I let my face show every emotion that I possibly can, in hopes that whoever is watching it might understand and relate to this experience, no matter how far away in the world they are geographically or experientially.
After we’ve all cleaned up and hugged, I’m back in the kitchen in my underwear, eating carrot sticks slightly less awkwardly than before.
One of the cameras roams around asking us to give Jiz some birthday wishes.
I look into the camera and smile. “Jiz,” I say. “You were the first person I ever fisted, and it was one of the most profound sexual experiences of my life. And today, at your 30th birthday celebration, I got fisted for the first time. I want to say thank you for sharing with me something so real about yourself and for giving me the opportunity to share something real about myself with the many people here in the room and watching at home. I fucking love you. And I fucking love my job.”