Well, I went to a reading from Best Lesbian Erotica 2004 last night at our friendly feminist-anarchist bookstore on the Lower East Side and it sure was a great way to heat up a chilly winter evening. I am totally in lust over
Tristan Taormino, who emceed the evening's events and nearly died when she commented on the red leather collar I was wearing. She joked about how winter made it hard for us femmes to dress cute, but she looked totally fucktastic in black leather pants. She has a great ass, as one would expect from an anal sex expert, and I am remiss that I didn't get into the play party scene until she was out of it. I would've loved to have seen her in action.
The erotica was great, although heavier on the literary value than on the wank value, in my opinion. Who needs a storyline or character development, just get to the fucking, right? I guess it made me realize that the smut I write in my journal is just that. Not that there's anything wrong with smut.
At any rate, get the kleenex and Lubriderm ready, boys, because here is the promised second installment of the journal entry about my high school friend Kim. Enjoy!
XXX
Q.
Kim – Part II
Kim and I continued to fuck well into my senior year of high school. We weren’t girlfriends, we weren’t really lovers – we just liked to fuck, and we fucked a lot. She had on-again off-again affairs with assorted guys, and I still balanced relationships with two women (they went to different high schools, thankfully) and had the occasional one-niters. But the sex was always the hottest and the most decadent with Kim.
Kim and I remained in contact when I went away to college in California the following fall. This was in the age before E-mail was widely available, but despite the long-distance, we logged hours chatting on the phone. Despite our continued closeness, I could tell Kim was lost without me and the loss of my constant companionship began to materialize itself in various self-destructive ways.
First, Kim began to have difficulty at work and she soon quit working at the camera store and took up a position as a nanny. Her employers were still expecting when she began her position with them, so Kim essentially got salary, room and board to do nothing for several weeks. Her employers obviously had a taste for the finer things in life and had a luxury home, luxury cars, and the most expensive cocaine habits I’ve ever witnessed. Although Kim had never so much as gotten drunk before, she was one to be easily led and soon our phone conversations were filled with details of her ever-intensifying drug use. She remained employed as a nanny, but her relatively new Mustang was soon repossessed and one of her drug binges ended up in an unwanted pregnancy and a much-needed abortion. I felt sad for Kim, and although I knew her demise was ultimately of her own making, I felt partially responsible.
We were elated to see one another again over winter break but I feared that a semester away at the private women’s college I attended might have changed the way I felt about the things I did with Kim. I felt older and my introductory women’s studies courses (which, back then, were heavily focused around the anti-porn, anti-male, anti-sex, anti-everything theories of Dworkin, McKinnon and others) had made me rethink my feelings about sex and sexuality and I felt, strangely, that the “new” me might be a disappointment to Kim. I was no longer the butch, baby-faced baby dyke that left the east coast, but was transforming into a more political, more feminine lesbian.
On my first free night home, Kim picked me up in one of her employer’s suped-up cars and she told me she was taking me to meet a male friend of hers. This guy worked at the dealership her employers owned and he and Kim would often “party” together. We arrived at Ralph’s sparsely furnished apartment, somewhere in one of Connecticut’s wealthier shore towns. Ralph was in his mid-30s and is perhaps best described as Ron Jeremy-esque, complete with dark bushy hair all over his body. Not what I had envisioned.
A cheesy porn movie flickered across the television, the sound muted, and I sat down on a piece of wicker furniture and feigned interest in it. Kim busied herself in the kitchen, where Ralph’s “junk drawer” was littered with pens, matches and what seemed like a gazillion 8-balls of coke rolling around. She was cutting lines on an aluminum baking sheet and my night seemed to be going the way of a twisted after-school special. She brought the pan into the living room and set it down on the coffee table. Handing me the empty tube from a Bic ballpoint, she offered me first dibs. I declined (remember, I am a product of the “Just Say No” generation). She looked a little rejected and not wanting to disappoint, I poured myself a double from the bottle of tequila sitting on the table. I watched the lines disappear into Kim and Ralph’s nostrils and drank my tequila.
I sat back, my eyes darting from Kim to Ralph to the bad porno and back again. I poured myself another drink and everything seemed as if it was going in slow motion. I just wanted to be out of that dingy apartment, but I knew both Kim and I were too fucked up to go anywhere at the moment. Suddenly, Kim got up from the sofa and told me to come with her. We went into the bathroom, where Kim informed me that she and Ralph were going to “fool around” and she wanted to know would I join in, if he asked me to. Every cell inside of me wanted to say no and scream for her to take me home, but each synapse somehow misfired and instead, I shrugged and said “whatever.”
We returned to the living room to find Ralph sprawled out on the sofa, his fly undone and his dick in his hand. To my surprise, my initial description of Ralph being “Ron Jeremy-esque” applied to his bulging cock as well. The volume was turned up on the television and moans, groans and the sort of ridiculous dialogue unique to only bad porn and the Anna Nicole show filled the room. It was certain, my life was indeed becoming a John Waters’ scripted after-school special. From yet another “junk drawer” in the kitchen, Kim procured a cheap, hard plastic dildo … the kind you find at stores that sold bad porn, the kind of store that Ralph apparently did a lot of shopping at. I was dumbfounded and thoughts of condoms and sexually transmitted infections swirled around my drunken brain. My head was fuzzy, but I knew two things for sure: I did not want to fuck hairy Ralph and I did not want that ugly plastic cock in my pussy.
Kim went to work on Ralph’s dick. She pulled and worked it with her hands and then took it in her mouth. Ralph couldn’t have seemed more disinterested. His beady eyes scanned the room and perked up when they came to me, still slouched in the wicker chair. “Come over here” he grunted. Great. My life was going from fucked-up after-school special to bad 1970s porn in 0-60 seconds. I walked over to him and stood in front of the sofa. “Unbutton your shirt and let me see your tits” he commanded. Too drunk and confused to care anymore, I undid the buttons on the green and white Banana Republic shirt I inherited from my sister (isn’t it amazing that it’s been over a decade and I still remember exactly what I was wearing) and slid off my bra. I felt like a starlet caught on the casting couch of some sleazy Hollywood director, as I stood in front of him, bare breasted.
He reached out his hairy arms and ran his hairy hands all over my smooth breasts. My nipples obviously did not share the same sense of repulsion that the rest of me did, because they stood straight up at his touch. As he fondled my tits, Kim pulled off her pants and sat splay-legged on the sofa. Her pussy gaped wide and she easily slid the plastic dong inside her. “Fuck me while he plays with your tits,” she directed. I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless obliged.
I coaxed the plastic dong in and out of her cunt as she furiously fingered her clit. Her pussy always got extremely wet when we fucked, and this time was no exception. Streams of pussy juiced rolled down the cock and onto my hand and wrist. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have been averse to fucking Kim in this manner and I was rather enjoying using the dildo on her, despite its ugliness, but I felt out of control and that made me uncomfortable. “Fuck me harder” Kim moaned between staggered breaths and I rammed the cock harder into her cunt. To my right, Ralph was still squeezing my nipples with one hand, as he worked his cock with the other. To my disgust, Ralph came quickly and without warning, shooting his warm, sticky jism between my tits. Kim was always one to enjoy a good cum shot and with a sharp gasp; she came in torrents, dousing my hand in a steady spray of her pussy juice. My hand and breast covered in assorted bodily fluids, I pondered how I had gotten this messy and still had not come.
I guess Kim sensed my disappointment and once she regained her strength, she pulled me towards the wicker chair I had been sitting in earlier, before all this boom-chicka-bow-bow crap began. She pulled off my black Levis and Jockey bikini briefs and sat me down. Kneeling between my thighs, she parted my legs so that my thighs rested on the arms of the wicker chair. This caused old hairy Ralph to perk up and he began to stroke his cock once again. Kim dove into my cunt with full force, just like the old days. Spreading my pussy lips apart to expose my shy clit, she grabbed it between her lips and grazed it with her teeth … she knew I liked everything hard. Her tongue worked its way down to my tight pink cunt hole and using her tongue like a little cock, she tongue-fucked me, all the while holding my pussy lips open wide, exposing my pink smoothness to hairy Ralph.
I began to squirm in the chair, spreading my thighs apart wider and rocking my pelvis towards Kim’s face so I could feel her tongue deeper in my cunt. Just when I was sure I would orgasm myself right of that damned wicker chair, Kim stopped abruptly. She fumbled with the plastic dong and positioned it at my cunt. I’d never taken anything that long inside me before and since I was lubricant retarded until about the year 2000, I braced myself for what I was certain would be a painful intrusion. I was wet from Kim’s diligent tongue work and to my surprise, the cock slid smoothly in. Although I had only taken about three-quarters of its full length inside my pussy, I felt it deep inside my cunt, inside my belly. Kim worked it in and out of my slit and covered my clit with her mouth. My eyes were almost closed and I was reveling in the sensations of having something so big inside my practically virgin pussy, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ralph’s dick erupting in spurts of white jizz once again.
“Goddamn” I sighed and Kim took this as a signal to quicken her pace. She was fucking me so hard with the plastic dong that the inner recesses of my cunt felt as if they were on fire, in stark contrast to the smooth sensations of her mouth suckling my clit. As I neared orgasm, I grabbed the back of her head and pushed her face further into my cunt. I came so forcefully that my cunt muscles forced the dildo out of my pussy, despite the fact that Kim was still holding onto it. I collapsed in a heap on the chair and sat there naked, my breasts glistening with cum and my thighs sticky from cunt juice, for several minutes until I caught my breath.
My rudimentary schooling in feminist studies dictated that I should’ve felt violated and exposed … and I did. But yet, I also enjoyed every minute of it.
Postscript: Kim eventually left the self-destructive nanny position and worked with several other more "wholesome" families. She pieced her life back together slowly and eventually married and has two children of her own and one stepdaughter whom she loves as one of her own. She's a really dedicated mom and finally found the love that she wanted and needed.
Although I haven't seen her in several years, she still calls me occasionally -- I think she misses me. But honestly, both of us have moved on in such separate directions that we'll never be as close as we once were. And I'm not so sure that's a bad thing.
XXX
Q.
Tristan Taormino, who emceed the evening's events and nearly died when she commented on the red leather collar I was wearing. She joked about how winter made it hard for us femmes to dress cute, but she looked totally fucktastic in black leather pants. She has a great ass, as one would expect from an anal sex expert, and I am remiss that I didn't get into the play party scene until she was out of it. I would've loved to have seen her in action.
The erotica was great, although heavier on the literary value than on the wank value, in my opinion. Who needs a storyline or character development, just get to the fucking, right? I guess it made me realize that the smut I write in my journal is just that. Not that there's anything wrong with smut.
At any rate, get the kleenex and Lubriderm ready, boys, because here is the promised second installment of the journal entry about my high school friend Kim. Enjoy!
XXX
Q.
Kim – Part II
Kim and I continued to fuck well into my senior year of high school. We weren’t girlfriends, we weren’t really lovers – we just liked to fuck, and we fucked a lot. She had on-again off-again affairs with assorted guys, and I still balanced relationships with two women (they went to different high schools, thankfully) and had the occasional one-niters. But the sex was always the hottest and the most decadent with Kim.
Kim and I remained in contact when I went away to college in California the following fall. This was in the age before E-mail was widely available, but despite the long-distance, we logged hours chatting on the phone. Despite our continued closeness, I could tell Kim was lost without me and the loss of my constant companionship began to materialize itself in various self-destructive ways.
First, Kim began to have difficulty at work and she soon quit working at the camera store and took up a position as a nanny. Her employers were still expecting when she began her position with them, so Kim essentially got salary, room and board to do nothing for several weeks. Her employers obviously had a taste for the finer things in life and had a luxury home, luxury cars, and the most expensive cocaine habits I’ve ever witnessed. Although Kim had never so much as gotten drunk before, she was one to be easily led and soon our phone conversations were filled with details of her ever-intensifying drug use. She remained employed as a nanny, but her relatively new Mustang was soon repossessed and one of her drug binges ended up in an unwanted pregnancy and a much-needed abortion. I felt sad for Kim, and although I knew her demise was ultimately of her own making, I felt partially responsible.
We were elated to see one another again over winter break but I feared that a semester away at the private women’s college I attended might have changed the way I felt about the things I did with Kim. I felt older and my introductory women’s studies courses (which, back then, were heavily focused around the anti-porn, anti-male, anti-sex, anti-everything theories of Dworkin, McKinnon and others) had made me rethink my feelings about sex and sexuality and I felt, strangely, that the “new” me might be a disappointment to Kim. I was no longer the butch, baby-faced baby dyke that left the east coast, but was transforming into a more political, more feminine lesbian.
On my first free night home, Kim picked me up in one of her employer’s suped-up cars and she told me she was taking me to meet a male friend of hers. This guy worked at the dealership her employers owned and he and Kim would often “party” together. We arrived at Ralph’s sparsely furnished apartment, somewhere in one of Connecticut’s wealthier shore towns. Ralph was in his mid-30s and is perhaps best described as Ron Jeremy-esque, complete with dark bushy hair all over his body. Not what I had envisioned.
A cheesy porn movie flickered across the television, the sound muted, and I sat down on a piece of wicker furniture and feigned interest in it. Kim busied herself in the kitchen, where Ralph’s “junk drawer” was littered with pens, matches and what seemed like a gazillion 8-balls of coke rolling around. She was cutting lines on an aluminum baking sheet and my night seemed to be going the way of a twisted after-school special. She brought the pan into the living room and set it down on the coffee table. Handing me the empty tube from a Bic ballpoint, she offered me first dibs. I declined (remember, I am a product of the “Just Say No” generation). She looked a little rejected and not wanting to disappoint, I poured myself a double from the bottle of tequila sitting on the table. I watched the lines disappear into Kim and Ralph’s nostrils and drank my tequila.
I sat back, my eyes darting from Kim to Ralph to the bad porno and back again. I poured myself another drink and everything seemed as if it was going in slow motion. I just wanted to be out of that dingy apartment, but I knew both Kim and I were too fucked up to go anywhere at the moment. Suddenly, Kim got up from the sofa and told me to come with her. We went into the bathroom, where Kim informed me that she and Ralph were going to “fool around” and she wanted to know would I join in, if he asked me to. Every cell inside of me wanted to say no and scream for her to take me home, but each synapse somehow misfired and instead, I shrugged and said “whatever.”
We returned to the living room to find Ralph sprawled out on the sofa, his fly undone and his dick in his hand. To my surprise, my initial description of Ralph being “Ron Jeremy-esque” applied to his bulging cock as well. The volume was turned up on the television and moans, groans and the sort of ridiculous dialogue unique to only bad porn and the Anna Nicole show filled the room. It was certain, my life was indeed becoming a John Waters’ scripted after-school special. From yet another “junk drawer” in the kitchen, Kim procured a cheap, hard plastic dildo … the kind you find at stores that sold bad porn, the kind of store that Ralph apparently did a lot of shopping at. I was dumbfounded and thoughts of condoms and sexually transmitted infections swirled around my drunken brain. My head was fuzzy, but I knew two things for sure: I did not want to fuck hairy Ralph and I did not want that ugly plastic cock in my pussy.
Kim went to work on Ralph’s dick. She pulled and worked it with her hands and then took it in her mouth. Ralph couldn’t have seemed more disinterested. His beady eyes scanned the room and perked up when they came to me, still slouched in the wicker chair. “Come over here” he grunted. Great. My life was going from fucked-up after-school special to bad 1970s porn in 0-60 seconds. I walked over to him and stood in front of the sofa. “Unbutton your shirt and let me see your tits” he commanded. Too drunk and confused to care anymore, I undid the buttons on the green and white Banana Republic shirt I inherited from my sister (isn’t it amazing that it’s been over a decade and I still remember exactly what I was wearing) and slid off my bra. I felt like a starlet caught on the casting couch of some sleazy Hollywood director, as I stood in front of him, bare breasted.
He reached out his hairy arms and ran his hairy hands all over my smooth breasts. My nipples obviously did not share the same sense of repulsion that the rest of me did, because they stood straight up at his touch. As he fondled my tits, Kim pulled off her pants and sat splay-legged on the sofa. Her pussy gaped wide and she easily slid the plastic dong inside her. “Fuck me while he plays with your tits,” she directed. I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless obliged.
I coaxed the plastic dong in and out of her cunt as she furiously fingered her clit. Her pussy always got extremely wet when we fucked, and this time was no exception. Streams of pussy juiced rolled down the cock and onto my hand and wrist. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have been averse to fucking Kim in this manner and I was rather enjoying using the dildo on her, despite its ugliness, but I felt out of control and that made me uncomfortable. “Fuck me harder” Kim moaned between staggered breaths and I rammed the cock harder into her cunt. To my right, Ralph was still squeezing my nipples with one hand, as he worked his cock with the other. To my disgust, Ralph came quickly and without warning, shooting his warm, sticky jism between my tits. Kim was always one to enjoy a good cum shot and with a sharp gasp; she came in torrents, dousing my hand in a steady spray of her pussy juice. My hand and breast covered in assorted bodily fluids, I pondered how I had gotten this messy and still had not come.
I guess Kim sensed my disappointment and once she regained her strength, she pulled me towards the wicker chair I had been sitting in earlier, before all this boom-chicka-bow-bow crap began. She pulled off my black Levis and Jockey bikini briefs and sat me down. Kneeling between my thighs, she parted my legs so that my thighs rested on the arms of the wicker chair. This caused old hairy Ralph to perk up and he began to stroke his cock once again. Kim dove into my cunt with full force, just like the old days. Spreading my pussy lips apart to expose my shy clit, she grabbed it between her lips and grazed it with her teeth … she knew I liked everything hard. Her tongue worked its way down to my tight pink cunt hole and using her tongue like a little cock, she tongue-fucked me, all the while holding my pussy lips open wide, exposing my pink smoothness to hairy Ralph.
I began to squirm in the chair, spreading my thighs apart wider and rocking my pelvis towards Kim’s face so I could feel her tongue deeper in my cunt. Just when I was sure I would orgasm myself right of that damned wicker chair, Kim stopped abruptly. She fumbled with the plastic dong and positioned it at my cunt. I’d never taken anything that long inside me before and since I was lubricant retarded until about the year 2000, I braced myself for what I was certain would be a painful intrusion. I was wet from Kim’s diligent tongue work and to my surprise, the cock slid smoothly in. Although I had only taken about three-quarters of its full length inside my pussy, I felt it deep inside my cunt, inside my belly. Kim worked it in and out of my slit and covered my clit with her mouth. My eyes were almost closed and I was reveling in the sensations of having something so big inside my practically virgin pussy, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ralph’s dick erupting in spurts of white jizz once again.
“Goddamn” I sighed and Kim took this as a signal to quicken her pace. She was fucking me so hard with the plastic dong that the inner recesses of my cunt felt as if they were on fire, in stark contrast to the smooth sensations of her mouth suckling my clit. As I neared orgasm, I grabbed the back of her head and pushed her face further into my cunt. I came so forcefully that my cunt muscles forced the dildo out of my pussy, despite the fact that Kim was still holding onto it. I collapsed in a heap on the chair and sat there naked, my breasts glistening with cum and my thighs sticky from cunt juice, for several minutes until I caught my breath.
My rudimentary schooling in feminist studies dictated that I should’ve felt violated and exposed … and I did. But yet, I also enjoyed every minute of it.
Postscript: Kim eventually left the self-destructive nanny position and worked with several other more "wholesome" families. She pieced her life back together slowly and eventually married and has two children of her own and one stepdaughter whom she loves as one of her own. She's a really dedicated mom and finally found the love that she wanted and needed.
Although I haven't seen her in several years, she still calls me occasionally -- I think she misses me. But honestly, both of us have moved on in such separate directions that we'll never be as close as we once were. And I'm not so sure that's a bad thing.
XXX
Q.
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
zarina:
would you recommend that book? I'm reading hot and bothered 4 right now and am sorely disapointed by the extreme lack of sex in it. I've read so much of it so far and have come across 2 stories with enough sex in it to almost get off on, and it doesn't take a lot to get me off.
zarina:
I haven't read any of your writing yet, but I'll definitely look into it. I'd love some custom smut. Reading descriptions of sex gets me off far better then pictures.