Femmes show it differently. They take you to a party, all dolled up, only to immediately plop down on your lap once you’ve arrived and drape their pretty little legs over you. Within moments, they’re running their delicate hands on your chest and through your hair as if to say “don’t talk to us, we’re preoccupied.” Halfway through the party, her lipstick has already left marks on your neck, and you’ve slipped a guided hand under her dress. Maybe it feels good to be wanted like this, but her hungry hands and bedroom eyes aren’t about how hot she finds you, at least not right now. She’s showing off. She knows that every single person in the room can see whose hands she craves wrapped around her neck, whose strap she begs for behind closed doors. She knows the entire party is aware who you belong to. It’s a power, really… How A femme can own a butch with such ease.