Posts Tagged ‘butch/femme’

Friday Reads: Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch/Femme Erotica

October 1, 2010  |  reviews  |  1 Comment

In keeping with the tradition I started this summer, featuring a butch or femme book on Fridays to countdown to the Femme Conference and then the Butch Voices regional conferences, I’m going to keep that up and continue featuring books on Fridays.

I was going to write about The Well Of Loneliness, Gold mentioned it when I wrote up Crybaby Butch last week and I thought, “Of course! Why didn’t I have that on my list?” It’s such a classic butch book. I expected it to be droll and depressing, but when I finally read it (in a british women writers of the ’20s class in college) it was incredible—so engaging, so well written, so articulate in the feelings of this “mannish” woman’s love for another woman. I definitely recommend picking it up, if you haven’t read it.

But … in light of the ridiculous amount of depressing news this week, let’s not even go there, let’s not mention a book called The Well of Loneliness, let’s not fall down a well of loneliness ourselves. Instead, let’s move on to something much more fun: smut.

I know I’ve mentioned it here before, but it’s worth revisiting. Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch/Femme Erotica, edited by Tristan Taormino, is a collection of the best butch/femme stories from the 16 years Taormino was the series editor for Best Lesbian Erotica. There are very few smut books specifically and exclusively with butch/femme content; this is the most recent, and, arguably, the best.

It is steaming hot.

“Butch/femme is erotic iconography. Butch/femme is bulging jeans, smeared lipstick, stiletto heals, and sharp haircuts. It’s about being read and being seen. Sometimes it’s about passing or not passing. It’s about individual identity and a collective sense of community. It’s personal, political. It’s a sexual electricity and power exchange. It’s the visceral space between the flesh and the imagination.” — from the introduction by Tristan Taormino

Here’s the description from Cleis Press:

Does the swagger of a sure-footed butch make you swoon? Do your knees go weak when you see a femme straighten her stockings? A duet between two sorts of women, butch/femme is a potent sexual dynamic. Tristan Taormino chose her favorite butch/femme stories from the Best Lesbian Erotica series, which has sold over 200,000 copies in the 16 years she was editor. And if you think you know what goes in in the bedroom between femmes and butches, these 22 shorts will delight you with erotic surprises. In Joy Parks’s delicious “Sweet Thing,” the new femme librarian in town shows a butch baker a new trick in bed. The stud in “Tag!,” by D. Alexandria, finds her baby girl after a chase in the woods by scent alone. And the girl in a pleated skirt gets exactly what she wants from her Daddy in Peggy Munson’s “The Rock Wall.” Sometimes She Lets Me shows that it’s all about attitude — predicting who will wind up on top isn’t easy in stories by S. Bear Bergman, Rosalind Christine Lloyd, Samiya A. Bashir, and many more.

Includes contributions by Alison L. Smith, Joy Parks, S. Bear Bergman, Amie M. Evans, Samiya A. Bashir, Rosalind Christine Lloyd, Kristen Porter, Tara-Michelle Ziniuk, D. Alexandria, Anna Watson, Shannon Cummings, A. Lizbeth Babcock, Sparky, Elaine Miller, Isa Coffey, Skian McGuire, Jera Star, Toni Amato, Peggy Munson, Sandra Lee Golvin, and Sinclair Sexsmith.

Pick it up at your favorite local independent feminist queer-friendly bookstore (if you want them to stay in business, that is), from Cleis Press directly, from Powell’s books in Portland (hi, #bvpdx!) or, if you must, from Amazon.

Femme Conference Begins Today! & Countdown to the Butch Voices Conferences

August 20, 2010  |  essays, on butches  |  4 Comments

It’s happening right now! Well not quite right now, since it’s earlier in New York City than it is over in Oakland, on the other coast where the sun sets over the water just like it’s supposed to.

The 2010 Femme Conference: No Restrictions begins today and an extravagance of femmes have gathered, including Kristen.

The hashtag for the conference is #femme2010 if you’d like to follow along on Twitter.

How do you like that collective noun, by the way? An extravagance of femmes? Not bad really. There’s a fascinating collective noun site connected to Twitter so that when you tweet your suggestion for the collective noun with the hashtag #collectivenoun it gets automatically updated and counted on the site. Plus, you can “like” other people’s suggestions (which also goes to Twitter). So what say you—what’s the best collective noun for femmes? Tweet it, or leave it in the comments. And check them out as they come in.

Okay, enough of that. You’re dying to know what the femme book is for today, right? Since we’ve got the Butch Voices regional conferences to count down to now, in NYC (September 25), Portland OR (October 1-3), and LA (October 8-10), I figured I’d do a butch/femme joint anthology.

There are other good femme books out there, though, don’t let me mislead you into thinking that Visible: A Femmethology, Femmes of Power, and The Femme Mystique are the only ones. There’s also:

And there’s Glamour Girls: Femme/femme Erotica by Rachel Kramer Bussel (Harrington Park Press; 2006) and With a Rough Tongue: Femmes Write Porn by Amber Dawn and Trish Kelly if you’re into erotica. Which, you know, you might be.

So now that I’ve recited pretty much every femme book that I know of and think are worth knowing, let’s get back to today’s feature. The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader edited by Joan Nestle, published by Alyson Books in 1992. It looks like it’s out of print, but you can probably still get it used in various places, like Powell’s online or, of course, Amazon (but only if you have to. Don’t you want independent bookstores to stay in business?).

The description of The Persistent Desire from Library Journal is as follows:

This anthology of stories, poems, and nonfiction accounts pays homage to a host of femme and butch lesbian relationships that have flourished over four decades. The narrators recount their experiences, describing how they met, how they took care of one another, and how they tried–or defiantly tried not–to fit in. The selections themselves bubble with passion and pain. Some dive beneath the surface to explore the varied meanings of gender roles, but most describe highly ritualistic manners of dress, hairstyle, and gesture that at times left the protagonist open to ridicule. In collecting these pieces into one volume, Nestle has made sure that the integrity and diversity of femme-butch relationships will not be lost. She has included narratives from women of many backgrounds and ethnic groups and from outside the United States.

This book was for me, as it was for many people, eye-opening, validating, breathtaking. I found it while I was still trying to articulate my own butch identity, and come into my orientation of dating femmes, and it blew past most of my doubts as if doing 80 on a motorcycle. I wanted to be part of that, I felt so connected to it. It changed the way I thought about myself and the way I thought about femmes.

It’s dated now. It was published almost two decades ago, and it reflects a different era of thought about gender identity and alignment assumptions. And while the trans movements were alive by then, much has happened on that front in the past 18 years since it was published and much transgender theory has affected gender theory deeply in wonderfully deliciously complicated ways.

We’re really due for an update.

And how about that, one is just on the horizon! Partners and butch/femme couple Ivan E. Coyote and Zena Sharman have been working on an anthology titled Persistence: All Ways Butch and Femme (see the connection to the first anthology’s title? Smart!) that is due out from Arsenal Pulp Press soon. Not sure what the exact date of publication is yet, but you can be certain I’ll be mentioning it here again. It looks like Ivan just picked up the postcards for the book from her publisher the other day, so it must be coming fairly soon! I will report back as I know.

There are more books, especially more butch/femme books, and more books just on butch identity by itself (look for more of those featured on the upcoming Fridays as we countdown to the Butch Voices NYC conference). I’ve made a new section in my Amazon Store exclusively for butch and femme books, so if you’re curious what else is out there, that’s a good place to start. And if you’ve got suggestions for what I missed, I’m glad to hear ‘em!

UPDATE! Persistence: All Ways Butch And Femme has a webpage on Arsenal Pulp Press, a description, and is due out in the spring of 2011. Isn’t that cover great? It’s done by Elisha Lim, who also has a book of her own newly out from Alyson, 100 Butches, Volume 1.

If you see Zena at the Femme Conference, she supposedly has postcards for Persistence, so that’ll give you an excuse to say hi. She’s aka “The Silver Fox” because (guess) of her hair, so that should narrow it down for ya.

(Don’t you just love the Internet? I do. Thanks, Arsenal, for answering those questions.)

On Being Left Out of Butch & Femme

August 13, 2010  |  advice, essays  |  9 Comments

From the Ask Me Anything questions from Sugarbutch’s 4th anniversary:

a) I often find myself at a loss when trying to slot myself into the femme-butch dichotomy – I don’t feel like I can identify with either. Yet I can’t really pass for androgynous (come on, boobs). so much of what I see in the queer world, in person and online, frames itself around being butch or femme and I feel left out. Is there a movement of queer people who *don’t* align themselves with butch or femme?

b) Some practical advice now…so there’s this girl. :D She’s a friend of a friend and there’s possibly something brewing there. (She knows I’m interested in her, she’s intrigued, hasn’t promised anything yet but would like to get to know me better). She’s overseas at the moment and won’t be back in my neighbourhood till August, baaaaaah. We’ve been chatting over Facebook and I’d like to send her some subtly flirty messages. Nothing too obvious or creepy, but what can I say that won’t either lose the flirtiness (I found that even when I explicitly say something meant to be flirtatious it gets read as normal!) or freak her out? Any ideas?—Tiara the Merch Girl from themerchgirl.net

There is a huge movement of queer people who don’t align themselves with butch or femme, and who don’t identify with androgyny, either. In fact, I think folks who do not identify as butch or femme make up the majority of the dyke/queer communitites.

It’s funny, because especially from the outside, it seems like that’s all lesbian or queer women’s culture is: butch or femme. Both for folks who aren’t a part of these communities and for dykes who are just coming out, that is a really common feeling. But once inside of it, there is tremendous pressure to present more androgynously—lots of pressure for more feminine folks to cut their hair very short, for example. An above-the-ears haircut is practically a rite of passage for queer women. And the tomboy often gets pressured toward body adornment, or comments such as, “If I wanted a penis / a man / a suit, I’d be dating men,” after a particularly short haircut, or a fancy dress-up night, or presenting a new strap on cock. (Not that that’s happened to me or anything. Not that I’m bitter.)

It depends on your geographic location, too. In some cities, queer scenes are dominated by butches and femmes. In others, the norm is more toward androgyny or practicality—I’ve been chatting about gender with a femme who grew up from Alaska and noticed that I did, too, and we both have some similar observations about what it’s like to grow up in a landscape that requires very particular tools to face the weather (like xtra tufs), so the edge of femininity as adornment is seen as very superfluous. And butch as adornment, too—I wore my city boots up there one of the last times I was there for the winter holidays, and complained about how the gravel and salt they constantly spray the streets with were really ruining my boots. Cufflinks, sportcoats, silk scarves—none of that is useful. You need flannel button downs, those very functional paisley handkerchiefs, fleece jackets, thick wool hats. This is the region (well, broadly—the Pacific Northwest) where grunge started, remember?

Point being, some cities are more butch/femme oriented than others. San Francisco’s queer scene is different than Seattle’s, which is different than Chicago’s and than New York’s (and Manhattan’s is different than Brooklyn’s). And the butches and the femmes are often very visible queers, especially since we seem to be the ones who are much more into deconstructing gender than the androgynous dykes. Not always, of course, but often: the current discourse in butch/femme communities tends to focus on why these genders work, why they don’t work, how to break apart identity alignment assumptions, what we’re doing to align with the trans movements, those kinds of things.

(Which is exactly why I am so drawn to this world of butch and femme … was I butch first, and the gender deconstruction came after? Or am I butch because I love gender deconstruction so much? Chicken or egg, who knows.)

And when we talk about a lesbian who is “visibly lesbian,” what do we mean? A lesbian who is butch-ish, or androgynous, leaning toward masculine. Someone not feminine, anyway. But those things aren’t actually the same: lesbian is a sexual orientation, not a gender identity. And until those things are more separated, we’re still going to have the butches (as the most visible queers) and femmes (as the most vocal queers, since if they do not define their sexuality with their words they get mistaken as straight) as some of the most obvious folks in the dyke worlds.

But that’s not to say that the other folks aren’t there. From my own experience, it seems that dykes and lesbians and queers who do not align with butch and femme are much more prevalent and many more than those who do. I’m trying to think if I have any support for this, some statistics I can cite or study I can link to, but I can’t think of anything (anybody else?). I wonder if it only seems like there are more non-butches & femmes than there are butches and femmes because that’s what I align with, so of course I presume that I am an outsider to the dominant lesbian culture. But I don’t think that’s only my perception—I’ve certainly talked to many, many other butches and femmes who feel similarly left out of the larger lesbian culture. Look at some of the big lesbian cultural reflections: AfterEllen, Curve magazine, Go! Magazine, Girlfriends magazine, The L Word, Dinah Shore. None of those reflect butch and femme identity regularly.

You have a place in these queer communities, lesbian circles, dyke scenes. You are just as legitimately queer, regardless of whether you have one singular gender identity to pull on or not. Don’t worry. You do not have to identify as butch or femme, and there are hundreds of blogs out there by queers who do not, many magazines and films and reflections of ways to be queer without aligning with any sort of gender identity. Check out Genderfork if you need a reminder of how many different ways of expressing queer gender there are out there. Find your own gender presentation, whatever feels perfectly good to you, whatever makes you feel the most you that you can be, whatever attracts the kinds of girls or boys or grrrls or bois that you want to attract.

What say you, Sugarbutch readers? Are there more dykes in the butch/femme world or in the non-butch/femme world? Do you feel left out of these identities? Is there a place for folks who do not identify as butch or femme in the queer world? Or do you, as a butch or femme, feel left out of mainstream lesbian culture? Is there a place for you in the larger queer world?

Second …

This girl thing. Well, it looks like I waited a long time, too long, because now it’s August and she might be back. I’m really slow on these Ask Me Anything questions, unfortunately. So maybe you can give us an update! What’s happening now? Did your flirty Facebook chatting work?

Giveaway Winners! Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch Femme Erotica

March 26, 2010  |  journal entries  |  4 Comments

Comments and entries to win Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch Femme Erotica edited by Tristan Taormino are now closed! The winners are:

bifemmefatale, whose favorite erotica “of all time is Pat Califia’s “Macho Sluts”. It’s female-centric but includes men as well, it’s unabashedly kinky, the Tops are racially diverse, butch and femme, and there’s a wide variety of styles of kink. … The only problem I have with the book is that it raised my expectations too high—I have yet to meet a real-life Top quite as hot as those in its pages!”

And the second copy goes to Irene, who said “I want this book so bad I can’t even think of a coherent comment.”

Will be emailing you both individually, and sending it out to you within a week or so.

And I hope those of you who didn’t win will check out this book, and pick it up! More details about the book here, or order it on Amazon, or from your local feminist queer indy bookstore.

Here’s the screenshot from Random.org:

Review: Sugar High Glitter City (VOD)

March 26, 2010  |  reviews  |  3 Comments

I know, I know: I already reviewed Sugar High Glitter City! What am I doing mentioning it again?

Well, it’s worth mentioning twice. Because holy crap, Shar and Jackie. Swoon. I wish they would make some more porn.

sugarBut also, Hot Movies 4 Her (which powers the video-on-demand Sugarbutch queer porn affiliate site) JUST added Sugar High Glitter City to their repertoire. Lucky you! That means you can buy some minutes, check out each of the scenes, and only pay for the minutes you watch—so instead of making the DVD $30 investment (or whatever it is, jeez porn is expensive) you can watch the first few minutes (or the middle few minutes) of each scene and decide whether it’s worth it to see the whole scene. Or fast forward when you’re not into it.

Here’s the HM4H writeup about the porn:

Sugar High Glitter City
Studio: S.I.R. Productions Directors: Jackie Strano & Shar Rednour

It’s the future. Sugar is outlawed. Cane-addicted dykes stop at nothing to get it – even selling their own bodies! The dynamic dyke team of SIR Video slams the dykespoitation genre into fast-forward with this sticky-fingered belly-crawl through Glitter City’s underworld of sugar-pimps and sandy hos. Fabulously diverse cast and multiple dyke sexualities crunch to the center in this fast-paced futuristic farce. Urban-encrusted glam, gutter-glitter lust, and candy-coated sleaze.

And if you click on over to the VOD site you’ll see some of the photos from each of the scenes, too. That first scene—the threesome with two butches and a femme, where Jackie is talking dirty the whole time? Holy crap I love that one. I think I studied it about eight or so years ago when I had a VHS copy of it in order to learn how to talk that way. She’s one of the best dirty talkers in porn I’ve ever seen.

Actually, speaking of dirty talk, S.I.R. Productions also has a “Talk Dirty To Me” film, which I’ve still never seen, but that I hear HM4H will be adding to their collection in the near future. Will most certainly watch that as soon as I can, and report back to y’all how it is.

Giveaway! Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch Femme Erotica

March 22, 2010  |  journal entries  |  67 Comments

Thanks to Cleis Press and Tristan Taormino, I’ve got TWO copies of the lovely new erotica anthology called Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch Femme Erotica edited by Tristan Taormino (in which I have a short story). More details about the book when I mentioned it a few weeks ago here.

Shall I mail you a copy of it? Just comment on this post and let me know what your favorite written erotica anthology is, or your favorite erotica writer, or that one erotica story that you always get out when you want to get your blood going. Bonus points if you describe what it is you love about the story. Or comment that you’ve never read erotica, or that you kind of hate it … or something else entirely, the point is just that you comment. I’ll pick two comments at random and notify you by email.

If you’re outside of the US, that’s fine, but I might ask you to kick me a few bucks for shipping. You just have to include a valid email address to enter.

Winners will be picked Friday morning, March 26th.

Thanks Cleis! Thanks Tristan!

Lesbian Sex Mafia Workshop! Gendering Power 2/19

February 5, 2010  |  miscellany  |  4 Comments

Come join me at the Lesbian Sex Mafia‘s February workshop!

LSM Presents: Gendering Power: How to Spice Up Your Role Play
with Sinclair Sexsmith

Where: LGBT Center, 208 West 13th Street (bet 7th and 8th Ave.)
When: Friday, February 19, 2010 at 8:00-10:00PM
Cost: $5/LSM members, $10/Non members

An interactive workshop on how the addition of gender to power dynamics in sexual role play scenarios can increase desire, vulnerability, and intimacy, as well as explore deep inner personal gender identities.

New Book! Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch Femme Erotica

February 5, 2010  |  reviews  |  3 Comments

Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch Femme Erotica Edited by Tristan Taormino is due out February 16th, and I have a story in it! (I believe it is The Diner on the Corner, also published in Best Lesbian Erotica 2009.)

There are very few books exclusively focused on butch/femme erotica—Back to Basics edited by Therese Szymanski is the only one I can think of—and I’m thrilled to see another one come into print. Cannot wait to get my hands on it!

“Butch/femme is erotic iconography. Butch/femme is bulging jeans, smeared lipstick, stiletto heals, and sharp haircuts. It’s about being read and being seen. Sometimes it’s about passing or not passing. It’s about individual identity and a collective sense of community. It’s personal, political. It’s a sexual electricity and power exchange. It’s the visceral space between the flesh and the imagination.” — from the introduction by Tristan Taormino

From Cleis Press’s page about the new book:

Does the swagger of a confident butch make you swoon? Do your knees go weak when you see a femme straighten her stockings? In Sometimes She Lets Me, Tristan Taormino chooses her favorite butch/femme stories from the Best Lesbian Erotica series.

Even if you think you know what goes on in the bedroom between femmes and butches, these 22 stories will delight you with erotic surprises. In Joy Parks’ delicious “Sweet Thing,” the recently arrived town librarian shows a butch baker some new tricks in bed. On a chase through the woods, the stud in “Tag!”, by D. Alexandria, find her baby girl by scent alone. And the girl in a pleated skirt gets exactly what she wants from her Daddy in Peggy Munson’s “The Rock Wall.”

Includes contributions by Alison L. Smith, Joy Parks, S. Bear Bergman, Amie M. Evans, Samiya A. Bashir, Rosalind Christine Lloyd, Kristen Porter, Tara-Michelle Ziniuk, D. Alexandria, Anna Watson, Shannon Cummings, A. Lizbeth Babcock, Sparky, Elaine Miller, Isa Coffey, Skian McGuire, Jera Star, Toni Amato, Peggy Munson, Sandra Lee Golvin, and Sinclair Sexsmith.

Tristan Taormino is an award-winning author, columnist, editor, and sex educator. She is the editor of Hot Lesbian Erotica and fourteen editions of Best Lesbian Erotica series as well as the author of The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women. Tristan is a former columnist for the Village Voice and currently has a column in Taboo; her writing has appeared in Velvet ParkVibeSpectator,The Advocate, and more than 15 anthologies. She has been featured in more than 200 publications, including the New York TimesRedbookCosmopolitanGlamourEntertainment WeeklyDetailsNew York magazine, Men’s Health, and Playboy. She has also appeared on CNN, MTV, Oxygen, the Discovery Channel, The Howard Stern Show, Real Sex, The Big Idea with Donny Deutsch, Scarborough Country, and over 50 radio shows. Tristan directed the adult videos the Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women, Tristan Taormino’s House of Ass, and the Chemistry series. She lives in upstate New York. Visit Tristan at www.puckerup.com.

Lipstick Blow Job

January 21, 2010  |  dirty stories  |  10 Comments

Kristen: perfect. well i will come by around 9 then. that is late for dinner but oh well
Sinclair: okay, will be home. that will be our one plan
Kristen: ok
Sinclair: that + a blow job
Kristen: oh yes. yay
Sinclair: so, wear lipstick
Kristen: to yoga? :-)
Sinclair: ha! probably putting it on after is better. but, if you like …
Kristen: hehe

She bought new lipstick recently, thanks to a Sugarbutch reader who recommended her particular shade. It’s bright, but lovely and femme, and it doesn’t come off on anything, even tacos.

She walked into my place wearing lipstick, still in her yoga clothes. Not the new lipstick, one of her others that is more sticky and means I tend not to kiss her when she wears it, lest she get it all over my mouth. Sometimes I don’t care about that, of course. But we kiss all the time, so the wanting-and-not-having is kind of fun, for a little while.

I’ve been craving roasted garlic lately so I spread some on some toasted bread, then baked some sweet potato and potato fries with cumin, and constructed a pretty decent veggie burger (sauteed onions, pepperjack, goddess dressing, sprouts, lettuce). (I’ve had this recent revelation that I really like sandwiches, so I’m indulging in that a little these days. Plus, Kristen is a new vegetarian, and is skeptical of the veggie burger, but I’m a big fan.) We may have also had a beer or three.

So we had a nice dinner. Enough about the food.

We cleaned up, did the dishes, had a few bites of ice cream. Her lipstick had mostly wiped off after eating and I pulled her close before going into my bedroom. Though much of the last few weeks has been a struggle, we are also closer, more clear, creating something lovely and excited to dip back into each other. My weekend with her went smoothly and the things that are coming up between us are more conversations than anxious explosions, which feels good, great, but I’ve been missing the power play, which we haven’t done much of lately. I’ve been careful, wanting to really recalibrate before taking too much on or slipping into the wrong places, but we have talked about how we both miss it.

In my bedroom, I slip on my cock while she reapplies her lipstick. I pull her on top of me as I lay down on the bed and kiss her neck, her face. She gets breathless. Sucks in air as her mouth waters and tongue swells, I can see it, despite her lips already being darkened. I slide two fingers into her mouth, feel her tongue, push them just past the first knuckle so she can lick around the pads with her tongue. She closes her eyes and moans.

“Hmm, you like that?”

She moans a little. It’s not really a question I expect an answer to.

“Ready to get that lipstick all over my cock?” She looks up at me, gasps and her chest collapses a little, shuddering and giving in toward me. I grab her hair. Our lips are nearly touching. I run my fingers down her cheek and jaw and notice a smear of lipstick that must’ve been on them, from putting them in her mouth.

“Yes, ohhh,” she breathes softly. “I want to make you feel good.”

I lay back on the bed, hand in her hair, the other on her shoulder or arm or wrist. She positions her mouth over my cock. rings her fingers around the shaft slowly as she lets her mouth water, parts her lips, watches it in her hand as if it is getting bigger at her touch. I practically feel it quivering. Underneath, my clit swells and strains to feel her lips, to be swallowed in her mouth too.

When her lips finally touch it, it is always a revelation, always a surprise, how much I feel it, how much tenderness is in her light kisses, the soft soft pillows of her inner lips, her sweet wet mouth and tongue. She coos a little and I can’t help but to moan, she gulps down thick breaths of air when she pulls her mouth up and off, holds my cock her in her hand softly. Licks just the tip with her tongue.

My cock is covered in rings of lipstick now, smeared around the head and the little ridges of the underside. She gulps it down again, pushes it all the way back into her throat and holds it there while I push and press and pulse against her, eyes rolling back until they close and my back arches to go farther, get deeper inside her.

She gags a little and pulls off, smooth and quick, smiles, looks at me, a little shy, a little desperate. She knows how hot this gets me. I know how much she likes to be stretched open, filled. She’s wet between her legs by now, she likes sucking cock that much.

She does it again, swallows deep, deeper now, her lips all the way to the base and grazing my harness. She holds it way far back in her mouth again and I am tempted to grab hold of her by the hair, start shoving in and out of her at my own pace. She wouldn’t mind. She would like it. I grip her hair but don’t pressure her head down, just remind her of my arm strength and presence and control.

She takes it as long as she can, then pulls back again, gasping a litlte, wipes the spit from her chin. Her lipstick is gone, smeared all over my cock.

“Kiss me,” I say, and sit up, pulling her toward me.

She rises to her knees to kiss me, her mouth sweet and swollen. I kiss her hard and long, wanting, eager, remembering the feel of being thick insider her and still feeling my dick swell.

I pull back. “Oh thank you, baby,” I say between kisses on her cheek and jaw and neck, “you do that so well, god, I love how you suck it.”

She smiles, hums a little in satisfaction, a little sheepish, cute, sweet. “You like that? Do I make you feel good?”

“Yes, yes baby, so much.”

“I like to do it.”

“Mmm, my sweet girl. Take your shirt off, let me up.” I lean back a little, shift my weight, and stand next to the bed as she slides her tee shirt and thin bra over her head. She still has pants on, too, comfortable black ones she wore to yoga earlier. She looks at me expectantly. “On your stomach,” I say, pushing her down and pulling her over toward me.

I want to fuck her mouth from the side of the bed.

I’m not actually sure that will work, but I want to try. It’s a very different angle than her being above me or on her knees in front of me. Luckily (and not by accident), my bed is on risers, raised just to my hip height. She stretches out sideways on the bed and I pull her forward, mouth to my cock, and keep my hand on her head to guide my cock in and out of it as she stretches her tongue forward and looks up at me. I shift my feet to get more power and thrust in again, hips bucking. I like this. Go figure. I like having control of the depth and speed. I like how she looks up at me with just a hint of discomfort in her eyes, a little bit nervous, not sure she wants me to keep going, but so turned on. Oh hell yeah I like this. I feel the tension building in my cunt and want to fuck her, want inside of her; I keep thrusting for a moment but want us to be more connected, want to suck at her lips and pinch her nipples and hold her down while pounding into her. I hold her head a little harder, cock against the back of her mouth, and pull out swiftly: “Take your pants off.”

She breaths heavy, gasping for the air filling her lungs, and lies back on the bed, slipping her pants down her legs. I strip off my harness and pull out my other cock, my favorite cock, the one I love to fuck with, that is a little thicker and longer than the one I’ve been using for her mouth. (Plus, I bet it’s not great to get lipstick in her.)

She watches me, and her hand hovers a little between her legs. She looks from my cock to my face, one of her hands up on her chest, arm brushing her nipples absently, now totally unclothed and a little chilly in my drafty bedroom. “Can I …?” She starts.

I’m still buckling, adjusting. She wants to touch her clit. “Sure,” I answer, watching her as she does.

When I finish strapping on, smooth some lube over my cock, and lie over her on the bed, she’s breathing heavy and arching her lower back, still touching her clit, watching me. I grip her inner thigh with one hand and guide my cock with the other, touching her lips and skin softly, feeling how wet she is. She’s murmuring “yes, yes, please, ohhh … ” and I’m trying to draw it out, to wait, looking up at her and smiling at her gasping, that arc in her body straining for me, for that moment of contact, of friction between us.

When I slide in, it is slow and fully, all the way, and I lie my weight down on her simultaneously, pushing my forearm down into her chest and shoulders. She closes her eyes, opens her mouth in a silent tense moan. She comes so easily, gets there so fast, I don’t want it to be over yet, not that I can’t keep going but I just want to drag it out a little longer, she hasn’t come yet and she doesn’t usually go this long without doing so. I slow down, deliberate and hard, but she just tightens and tenses until her pussy pushes my cock out of her completely.

“Oh, you done with that?” I tease her, kissing her pretty mouth, hand in her hair while I hold my cock with the other, touching it lightly to her slick lips and hole. “You got enough, you don’t want any more?”

“No no no,” she starts, small and steady, “I want it, I want it, give it to me … ”

“Please?”

Please, please, give it to me, put it back in my pussy, please fuck me with it, please … ”

I do, of course I do, slide it back inside, she lifts her knees high and rocks back her pelvis so I can get deeper, shoving inside as she throws her hands up and back to grasp at the blankets, the edge of the mattress, the headboard, as she pushes against me harder.

Minutes pass, I don’t know how long, I can lose myself in this part, the soft melding of our curves together and the rhythms we create while we circle in and out of each other, cycle through pressure and pain and pleasure, the kisses, the grasping at each other. She sometimes comes like this, I sometimes come like this, but neither of us do so after a few minutes (or ten or forty) I shift to my knees and pull her hips up higher, my hands grabbing hold of her inner thighs to pull her to and from me, pulse my cock in and out of her, slapping her thigh for surprise and that shocking spasm of sting before moving my fingers to her clit, flicking it gently, and she starts to shudder, mouth agape, shoulders and arms and wrists held tense and flailing as she clenches everything tight, tight, tighter, pushing my cock out again … until she releases, groans in a long moan, relaxes back, breathes hard, and reaches for me, eyes still closed, to come closer to her.

I wrap my arms around her, lay my body out over hers, and kiss her, both of us catching our breath, vibrating in the aftermath, until we’re ready to go at it again.