After Midnight: True Lesbian Erotic Confessions by Chelsea James

Author:Chelsea James [James, Chelsea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotica
Publisher: Cleis Press Start
Published: 2010-08-15T22:00:00+00:00

It was when we were cleaning things up a bit that bad-girl Talia ’fessed up to the fact that she actually lived with her father, not her “lesbian” mother. The porno magazines and DVDs were his, the many sex toys hers.

THE SAILOR

Diana Cage

From the back she really looks like a sailor: Tight white pants. Broad shoulders. Short-cropped hair. The nape of her neck is bare and sexy. The uniform fits her very well, and I pretend for just a moment that she isn’t dressed up in some very obvious costume at a party that feels like the fetish prom. From the front, she’s very much a girl. Freckles, thin nose, high cheekbones defining a decidedly feminine face that I’d bet is the bane of her existence.

The room reeks of propane from the fire show. Earlier, two women danced around each other in a way that was supposed to be sexy. They swallowed huge, silicone cocks with flaming ends, made a big show of their tattooed bodies and pretended to fuck each other. They had everything going for them—beauty, style, even enthusiasm—but it was all too staged. They were too black and shiny and clean to be having real sex. They looked like a movie. Like some teenage witchcraft rip-off, straight-to-video bullshit. “Stop trying,” I said out loud. “Put your rubbery clothes back on and go back to your co-ops.” Even the girls on the dance floor, in their PVC outfits and bondage gear, looked bored. They need rape scenes or foot-fucking—murder and mayhem. Something spectacular to get them off. A little half-assed flaming-sword-swallowing doesn’t get anything going for this crowd.

Girls are coughing from the thick greasy air. And a few have passed out on the dance floor like little latex canaries—only to be escorted from the building by EMTs who assure us they will be fine and tell the rest of us we need to go outside and get some air.

All the good beer is gone. The music is bad. I am feeling lightheaded and loose, and looking for trouble. For a moment, my sailor disappears from sight and I panic, thinking I won’t get a second chance. But she resurfaces among a group of tranny boys, all huddled together away from the girlie-girls, like little kids at recess. Her beautiful face looks a little bit mean even though she’s laughing. Looking at her makes me feel sexy, and I wonder what it will take to get a girl like that to fuck me. Then I remember that we all want to fuck someone.

The club I’m in is normally a gay men’s porn theater. Live jack-off shows, the works. But tonight it’s been rented out for a lesbian fetish party and latex-clad enema nurses are chatting with Catholic schoolgirls. I came with my girlfriend Steph, who likes these parties more than I do. She’s having fun, chatting up the cute little boys and girls. All of our friends are here. Every once in a while she brings me a beer, pats my head, kisses me and then goes back to our circle of friends.

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