Pic by Bella Howard
I’ve been thinking for a while now about becoming a full-time lesbian because being a lesbian is really in and edgy and probably guys think lesbians are hot or something, right? Who knows. I definitely don’t. Recently I’ve come to realize I actually have no clue what guys are into, which is another reason why queer seems like the best way to go. Plus most guys in London are secretly gay anyways.
Generally speaking, once I get an idea in my head I become obsessed with it to the point of sickness. I can’t think about anything else. It hits me like a plague. I’m same with people. When I decide I like someone I become totally consumed. Needy. Desperate, even. It’s a massive flaw in my character, I know. Still, because of this it’s no surprise that since starting on this lesbian vibe my mind has been flooded with thoughts of, well, cunt.
I meet April at a bar. She’s blonde and hot and wears a lot of eyeliner and has a slight lisp, all of which I’m into. I buy her shots of tequila and we talk about our mutual love of yellow tartan. We make out for a while and I say something way too forward like “I want to fuck.” She says we can’t go back to hers because she lives with her boyfriend, and that he’ll probably be there. I normally don’t like bringing people back to my squat because it’s super gross, looks like a cave and smells like semen / soup, but I’m pretty avid about this whole lesbian thing so I make an exception and invite her back to mine.
We arrive home and she immediately starts taking off her clothes. Her tits point up slightly, which I like, and her legs are really long and unshaved which makes me feel better about not having shaved mine in like four months. We lie down on the bed. Her mouth tastes like tequila and cigarettes, which is surprisingly an alright combo. She sits up and wraps her legs around me. She scans the room slowly, pausing when her eyes meet the book on my nightstand—Closer, by Dennis Cooper. She picks it up and begins flipping through its withered pages. She smiles seductively. She looks like a girl out of a movie who I can’t place.
“I’ve read this book,” she says. “It’s really fucked up.”
“Yeah…” I say. “All of his books are basically about gay sex and murder and child porn.”
“You want me to read some now?” she asks. “Might be hot….”
I say OK and as I go down on her she opens to the middle of the book and begins to read aloud. In her slight lisp she says:
George lay facedown on the living room rug. One of the two guys caressed his ass, then used some fingers to open its hole so wide George felt cold air rush in. “Maybe,” Tom said, to which Philippe answered, ‘Good.”
How had Philippe put it? “Your asshole looks like a child’s pout…” George couldn’t remember the rest. “Shit, baby.” That was Philippe’s voice, so George pushed a couple of turds out. “What does he normally eat?” Tom asked. “Hamburgers, french fries, candy bars…” “I could have guessed.”
She pauses to close her eyes, tilt her head back, breath deeply. She stays frozen, apart from her chest slowly rising, falling. “Keep reading,” I say. She reads.
Two fingers slid up his ass. Since he’d met Philippe, George had learned how to count them. Two more joined in. He hadn’t taken that many before. “Not bad,” he thought. Someone felt for his lips, pried them open and four fingers slid down his throat. “He’s got a big mouth,” Tom whispered, “I love that.”
George gagged a few times. “Let it loose,” Philippe said in a soothing voice. George didn’t want to, then he was vomiting.
April moans heavily and the book falls to her side. I look at her. She looks hot I guess… I don’t really know. All I can see is the bottom of a chin. “I liked it better when you were reading,” I say. She opens a book and between long, heavy breaths she reads:
Hands started roaming all over his clothes. First they followed the shape of his skeleton, inching along, like it was covered with braille or something. Now they took hold of his crotch… She trails off… “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
“Keep fucking reading,” I say, but she’s not paying attention to me. Not mentally, anyway. Physically yeah. She cums, I think. It looks rehearsed, but maybe I’m just being paranoid.
Is there a difference between being bisexual and being promiscuous?