This Old Sex Dungeon: Queer S.F. Is Vanishing

Sucking on my girlfriend’s nipples in the bathroom of the Lexington Club is exactly how I wanted to ring in the new year. DJ Durt was spinning ’90s R&B and we had only run into one of our exes so far. It was shaping up to be a wonderful, if bittersweet, night. We took explicit selfies up against the bright blue, graffiti-covered walls and necked until someone banged on the door — the dance that many dykes had done before us, but very few will do ever again.