I remember when there was that phase in middle school where guys would say that girls’ slumber parties consisted of comparing breasts and practicing kissing. And I remember thinking, “God, I wish.”
Because there’s something about the silly and adventurous sort of fun two girls can have exploring each others’ bodies. There’s a feeling of you’ve got what I’ve got, but it’s so different because it’s on you and I can touch it and not feel it the way I would feel it if it were my own but I can vaguely understand how it feels for you. I’ll never be able to relate to a handjob, but I can assume on a very basic level how a girl feels when I’m fingering her.
It’s not even a skill-set sort of thing so much as a fascination with something that is so much you and also so much an “other”. It’s mine but it’s not mine. It’s familiar and it’s alien. And there’s just something about that which makes it somehow a little more giggly and playful and fun than stuff with guys. I don’t know. Call it slumber party syndrome.