There are times that this scar on my knee makes every bone in my body ache. It is arthritis to the mind. It is an infinite suggestion of the moments I once lived. There are times that I remember where it came from, and I think my heart will break through my chest as it’s beats race my mind’s buzzing. That I fear that I might never forget the feeling of the cold winter air cooling down the car that we just filled with heat. That I can feel speakers pounding a deep beat against my body as I am pressed too close to this confined space. Too close to you. The only place to hide. Too close to you. That I can hear us both laughing and struggling to unlock the door as the search lights beam down into the front glass. There are times that this scar on my knee makes me terrified that I will never live another adventure as lively as you. That I will never whisper deep into the night or smell the evening fragrantly hanging on to my hair. There are times that I am content with the reminder of whirlwind nights. And there are times that I wish it would have disappeared right along with you.

Last night we had our last goodbye.

After an endless amount of tries.

Today I struggle with my pen,

As I mourn these severed ties.

My eyes were locked on yours last night,

As I subtly breathed you in,

That musty cedar mixed with smoke,

That always made me spin.

You dared me with that look of yours,

To be the one who goes,

But we both stood rooted to that spot,

Our breathing syncing slow.

We closed the gap between our lips,

For an ill-advised last kiss,

Since we both know we’re a toxic love,

But fuck, that mouth I’ll miss.

She first remembers the people. Not anyone special or different, just everyday people. The elderly woman sitting beside you on the train who would look over at you with a smile; the bespectacled father walking his daughter along the beach, covered in sand and fragrant brine; the lulled baby boy, listening close to his mother’s heartbeat as he sleeps; these were the people she first though of. It wasn’t politicians and soldiers and business owners who changed the most, it was the people. The ordinary, everyday people going about their lives, tossing bits of kindness to one another in the form of smiles and loving quips. For they were the heart and soul of this hideous, manmade world. They breathed air into the lips of a dying earth.

She thinks about trust. After all, trust is the life blood of society--the thread that weaves us all together. If not for trust, we would be nowhere.

We are nowhere.

An infectious utopia has destroyed us, she thinks. This sinister, deceitful idea of peace--this dream that humans can exist in a state of contentment without reaching for more, more, more. Never realizing that to take more is to take away from someone else. To protect yourself is to drive your neighbor away. But they never realized. After this ‘utopia’ began, the paranoia grew and grew--neighbors barricading themselves away from one another, clutching guns and metal bats instead of family and friends. Fearing an end that they were bringing upon themselves.

And now those elderly women brandish bats instead of smiles, those bespectacled fathers clutch handguns instead of their daugthers’ hands, and those baby boys grow up fearing the outside world, hearing shouts and screams instead of their mothers’ heartbeats.

This utopia is but a delusioned anarchy, she writes. Her pens scratches so desperately against the paper it almost begins to rip. Eyes squeeze shut. Fingernails dig into soft flesh.

She opens her eyes and lets the tears fall.

So this is a utopia, she writes.

I wonder, is there a true utopia out there, a paradise without inherent violence? It must be across the ocean or above the clouds, for I have never seen it. It must be magnificent and colorful, for it has sucked every drop of rosy color from the people’s faces here, and every ounce of blue from the sky. It must be a truly kind place, for we have no kindness here anymore. The people huddle in meager groups, shivering in cold and fear within their houses. It must be warm, for the sun has bid us adieu. It must be loving, for this place has no love anymore.

So this is utopia.

Wild hearts desire freedom

Wild hearts put up a fight

Act desperate for their love

And watch them flee into the night

You’ll never hear from them again

Answers will go unspoken

But understand it’s them not you

Cause wild hearts can’t be broken....

She feeds the lighter parts of me.

The parts that crave the sun.

I lift my head to feel her rays,

To soak in her blazing calm.

She almost feels a part of me,

Or at least a thing I need.

She helps me feel a fraction healed,

Through her light, she sees just me.

I hate myself for the pain I miss,

And the darkness that it brings.

My former love, she saw me too,

But she focused on my pain.

She wrapped me up in shadows,

And told me I belonged,

In the darkness that she brought me,

Even when it felt so wrong.

The light should win this battle,

For she’s the only way I see,

But darkness has a way to her,

Of completely blinding me.

#poem #poet #poetry #challenge #lesbian #queer #lgbt

I think to all the stories,

That I’ve heard throughout the years.

In all my books and on the screen,

The villain’s always clear.

But just suppose that’s not the truth,

And stories have different sides.

A villain to you could be someone,

That others have glorified.

What story does the hunter tell?

Right after he goes and slays?

And can we blame the mother bear?

For revenge made in her craze?

What would a soldier’s mother say?

To the enemy’s own son?

Aren’t they just the same in fact?

Different uniforms yet same guns?

And now I think to you and me,

And how we’re both to blame,

You hate me for the things I did,

But we’re actually just the same.

It all depends on the view you take,

Into the stories and the lies.

But if you need, then go believe,

I’m the only real ‘bad guy.’

#poem #poet #challenge #poetry #lgbt #lesbian

This carnival keeps spinning,

I no longer feel my feet.

Beyond just this numbeness,

I feel complete defeat.

I only wore this mask,

Since you seemed to want me to.

The lies just kept on building,

An act we fell into.

And now the mask is gone,

And you hate all that you see,

You wanted the fake act,

Not the actual true me.

So now we're both just here,

Make up streaming down my face,

For the truth we both know well,

This clown you can replace.

#poem #poet #poetry #lgbt #lesbian #gay

I have to just choose. Something in this closet. Maybe if I actually get dressed, I’ll want to go out. I look into my closet again and move my eyes between a dress and some skinny jeans. While I want to be the girl tonight who chooses to wear the dress, it’s rainy in Seattle and I don’t even know how long I’ll stay out. Skinny jeans it is.

As I get dressed, I try to convince myself to be optimistic. I really haven’t gone out that much since I separated from my ex-wife. Maybe it’ll do me some good to have a drink, listen to some club music and dance with a stranger. Of course I’m slightly more optimistic for the drink and music part — Seattle’s lesbian scene leaves something to be desired.

When I heard about his party I was skeptical. “Queer dance party” doesn’t really sound like my kind of thing. I’m more of a dive bar with arcade basketball kind of girl. But I definitely won’t meet a woman at a bar like that.

I take a hit of my vape pen as I wait for my Uber. I’m not used to being so close to the bars, but my new place is convenient. A far cry from the farm life I recently left with my ex. Memories of her and our life together hit me at odd moments. But I don’t feel sadness about it. I just can’t connect. Like I’m looking through a lens at some other person’s story playing out.

The Uber only takes about 15 minutes to get to the bar where the party is being hosted. I was planning on meeting friends here, but as always, I’m very late. I’m sure they’re already in and probably not sober. Luckily the line isn’t really a line anymore and I get in to the party quick. Bonus of being late.

Re-Bar is packed. It’s going to take forever to find my friends. But as the music hits me with the hazy feel of club lights, I suddenly feel a rush of energy. I’ll find a drink and then find my friends. Knowing them, they’re probably at the bar.

I order a beer and lean against it deciding my next move. It’s a diverse group of people. I now get why they call it “queer”. Gay twinks that look like they belong at the top of the hill, the few straight girls who just want to dance, lesbians darting their eyes left and right trying to make contact with anyone — they’re all in one space somehow enjoying themselves.

I see a woman working up the courage to come up to me. And she’s cute, she is. Her short hair is styled in a trendy, Capitol Hill sort of way. But she’s dressed well and seems to have taken the time to put herself together tonight.

“Can I top you off?” she asks nodding to my almost full beer.

I already wasn’t very interested, but the lame line disappoints me.

“I think they prefer you to finish the drink before they top you off,” I reply dryly.

I know it’s rude, but I just give her a smirk and move past her to the dance floor. I don’t even know if I want to dance yet, but I want to be away from the bar area, which apparently is more of a meat market than a place to get alcohol.

Luckily I see one of my friends across the floor so I make my way towards him. It’s so crowded that it’s taking me awhile to push through the constantly shifting bodies.

As I search for him again, I’m suddenly stopped. As I see her.

I can’t say what song is beating through the speakers. Or who is dancing next to me. I suddenly don’t even remember which friend I saw. What I see are eyes that look like the ocean. And I’m caught in their wave. After only a few seconds, she looks over and sees me staring. Our eyes are locked on to each other and I feel a physical pull I’ve never felt.

She maintains eye contact with me and it feels like forever that we stand there. Just staring at each other.

I force myself to look away from her intense stare. It feels too dangerous to keep looking at something so powerful. Like the way you need to shield your eyes from the reflection of sun rays on water. But averting my eyes from hers doesn’t help things.

She’s wearing a tight, short dress. I can see some skin on the side, indicating it didn’t have much of a back. And her body is perfect. The dress hugging her in a way that makes my mouth dry.

As I bring my eyes back up from my less than subtle review, I see her smirking. Knowing that she has me. Instead of coming up to me, her smirk widens into a smile as she sways her hips and begins to dance to the music.

She knows I’m watching and truly I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so sexy. She moves around the music like she’s part of it. And I now have confirmation that the back of her dress is indeed bare.

True, I didn’t really feel like coming out tonight. But now that I’m here, in the presence of her, I’m not going to waste time.

I set my drink down on a small table by the dance floor and slowly make my way towards the dancing woman. She turns around just as I reach her, so very well-choreographed that I’m sure I’m not the first to approach her tonight. Understandable.

She moves again so she’s dancing with her back to me, her brown hair falling across her shoulders as she moves to the music. At this point I’m pretty positive that she’s dancing for me. I walk close behind her so my body is almost touching hers.

“Hi,” I say right into her ear, my mouth barely grazing the skin, making both of us jump slightly.

There is a current between us. She’s yet to even say anything and yet I can tell we both feel it. There’s something powerful in the way our bodies seem to know each other. Instead of responding, she moves into me, gently grabbing my hands and placing them on her hips.

And there we stayed. For one song, and then another. On the third song, I pull her around so she’s flush against the front of me. Instead of moving with the music, we stay there, just looking into each other. I can feel her breasts push against me and I’m fairly certain she’s braless.

Who the fuck is this girl? All of a sudden I can’t imagine not being in this club tonight, not seeing her, not having her in my arms. I feel all at once a desire to rip her clothes off and fuck her and also one to gently kiss her forehead and pull her into me.

In this moment there are so many ridiculous things I want to say to this stranger. Tell her how beautiful she is. How I’ve never felt a physical pull to a woman like this. But I can’t say any of that. That’s super creepy. But I do want more time.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” I ask into her ear as I lean in so she can hear me.

“I live close by,” is all she says back.

But the need is clear in her eyes, which have turned from clear to dark, her pupils blown wide. She takes my hand and leads me out of the club.

I’m only slightly aware, and certainly not concerned, that I didn’t actually see any of my friends while here. But they’ll understand, this is why they wanted me to come out anyway.

The short Uber ride to her Capitol Hill apartment is silent, but not uncomfortable. And I wonder if the driver can feel the tension. As we pull up to her apartment, I take her hand in mine. The need to touch her ever present.

The details of her apartment are blurred by her intense and hot gaze upon me. We can’t seem to stop staring. Like we’re trying to figure out some visual puzzle.

“Bedroom?” I ask her quietly. I’m afraid to use my voice. Afraid I’ll sound like an animal, my desire for this woman is at its peak.

“This way,” she turns around and starts to slowly walk to the back of the apartment.

Somehow I’m already wet and I don’t even know when that happened. But I follow her back. I thought about just taking her on the couch. But I don’t know if she has roommates, and quite frankly, for what I have planned, a bed will work better.

I’ve hit my limit with this insane sexual tension. As soon as we both enter the room, I waste no time checking out the surroundings. I see a bed and assume there’s other normal bedroom things: closer, dresser, who cares.

I close the door, grab her arm and push her up against it. Our lips crash into each other’s in a passionate frenzy. But it doesn’t stay frenetic. Her lips feel incredible and I have to stop to savor them. These lips deserve that. Deserve to be sucked and licked tenderly for a moment.

We both slow our pace as our arms wrap around each other. We can both tell this is not a normal take-someone-home-from-the-bar-first-kiss. This is explosive. I can feel her start to moan into my mouth and the vibrations of it in my whole body. And I can’t help but moan back. From a kiss. With a stranger.

I don’t try to change the pace again. I want to continue this slow, intense exploration of each other’s bodies. I tug her gently to the bed and she sits down on it as her legs hit the edge.

My whole body is shaking by this point, I want to feel her naked body on me. I want to feel her pussy against mine. I slowly reach down to the hem of my shirt and pull it up over my head. Her lips part slightly as she watches me closely. I bend slightly towards her and move my hands to the hem of her dress.

“Is this OK?” I ask as I grab on to the fabric.

“Please just touch me,” she whispers back in an almost-plea.

The desperation in her voice drives me forward and I feel like my head is in a haze. All I can see is her, smell is her, feel is her….she’s consuming every part of me.

My breath hitches as I pull her dress off and confirm she’s not wearing a bra. And she doesn’t need to (nor does any woman, really), but she is perfect. I take only one moment to gaze at her soft pink breasts before moving to unzip my pants. I’ll give them plenty of attention soon.

I don’t want any clothing in between us. And there’s something sexy about this slow disrobing. She licks her bottom lip and she stares at my pants inching down my thighs. After a moment she becomes impatient and pulls them down fast so I can step out of them.

Now both naked, standing there in the light (we hadn’t bothered to turn them off), we look at each other almost as if we’d never seen a naked woman.

“Please. Touch me,” she says, looking up at me, lips parted.

Hearing her plead again causes a gush from my pussy and I move forward to push her down into the mattress. We both sigh in relief as our naked bodies press against each other.

“Fuck,” I sigh in to her hair as I hold her there, never before experiencing this kind of electricity from just my body pressing against another.

But I know she needs more than this. I move my leg so it’s in between her legs and I’m instantly rewarded with a small moan from her. She bucks her hips up in an effort to get more friction, but now that we’re here, now I know this is real and not some amazing dream, I’m going to tease her. Make her beg again.

As I keep my leg there, giving her only a light amount of friction, I move my mouth to her right breast while I thumb the left nipple. Her nipples harden instantly under both my hand and my mouth and I suck on each tit with little regard for grace.

“Fuck, yes,” she moans as I start mixing my teeth in with my tongue across each nipple.

I could really do this for hours, her breasts are so fucking sexy. And I actually think I could get her to come from just this, based on the way her moans are increasing in volume. But I want more and I know she does too.

I move up to her face and in doing so, push my leg in to her pussy, giving her some much needed relief. I kiss her but this kiss different than the rest. I’m hungry for her tongue. As she moves it into my mouth I don’t hesitate to suck on it, making us both moan into the others’ mouth.

I move to her ear and press my mouth against her earlobe. Before I speak I make sure to suck lightly on it, eliciting another moan from the girl.

“Tell me what you like,” I whisper in a voice so husky with desire I almost didn’t recognize it.

“Anything. Everything. Please, just fuck me,” she begs back.

I can’t help the smirk that crosses my face as she squeezes her eyes shut and presses her head further in to her pillow. The fact that I’m obviously affecting her like she is me is amazing.

I have to taste her.

I move my hands back to her nipples and lightly circle them as I whisper to her again.

“I wanted to taste you from the minute you turned those striking eyes on me. I can’t wait to put you in to my mouth.”

Instead of doing just that, I remove my hand from her right nipple and move it down her navel, to her dripping pussy. I put two fingers in to her folds so I can make sure my fingers are covered with her wetness. I then sit up so I’m straddling her.

Without breaking eye contact, I put the two fingers in to my mouth so I can suck off her juices. And I leave nothing behind, swirling my fingers inside my mouth to taste it all. And fuck. She tastes just like I imagined. Like sweet musk that’s smoky, slightly bitter from sweat caused from dancing. And I need more.

She doesn’t make a sound as she stares up at me, almost too surprised by what I just did. Her eyes are wide and they seem a shade darker than they were a moment ago.

As she licks her lips, I bend down to her so we can kiss. I push my tongue forcefully in to her mouth so she can taste herself and I swallow the moan that follows. As I kiss her, I can feel her shake slightly under me and I know I’m driving her mad with this pace.

As I move down her body, I can hear her sigh in relief and I smile to myself knowing that she’s so close to coming and I’ve barely touched her pussy.

Part of me wants to draw this out more, hear her beg again. But I can’t wait to have my mouth fully on her now that I’ve had a sample. As I move all the way down her body and situate myself between her legs, I let out an involuntary moan as I see her pussy.

“Fuck, babe. You are so wet for me.”

I don’t wait to move my tongue to her wet folds. I start low and swipe it up the full length of her pussy so I can really taste her. And then I move my mouth to her clit, having teased her enough. After testing things out, I can tell she needs light pressure.

I continue to lightly flick her clit as I gently slip just one finger in to her pussy.

“Yes, just like that. Fuck, fuck fuck,” she moans, eyes still shut.

“Look at me,” I quietly demand.

She opens her eyes as if just remembering someone else is in the room with her. She looks down at me with the heaviest eyelids I’ve ever seen on someone.

“You taste amazing. I love fucking you,” I tell her while looking in to her eyes. I can physically see her gulp before I move back to my task.

As I slowly move my finger in and out, really only entering the front of her pussy, I can feel her start to tighten. Wanting to make her orgasm as intense as I can, I slowly curl my finger so I’m hitting her G-spot.

“Shit baby. Yes, fuck. I’m so close.”

As I continue to hit that spot, I can feel a wetness begin to build. Holy fuck, this girl can squirt. And it’s as if we both have the same thought process. She quickly lifts her head from the pillow.

“Get some towels,” she pants through her oncoming orgasm.

“Just let go babe, fuck it,” I reply back.

There is no way I’m removing my finger to get towels just to avoid a little mess. By this time I can tell she’s about to come so I move my mouth back to her clit as I continue to hit her G-spot.

As soon as my mouth touches her clit, I can feel the juices start to spill out of her, hot and wet against my face. And I take in as much as I can swallow as it flows down. I’ve honestly never seen so much cum from a woman and now see why she requested towels. Not that I’m complaining.

I continue to clean her up with my tongue as she recovers from her orgasm. As I look up from her pussy I see a glint of something in her eye. As if she’s been in the desert and is now seeing a glass of water.

Before I know it, she’s pulled me up and flipped our positions. I kind of took her for a bottom until now, but I’m not sure. She’s commanding and fuck, she’s stronger than she looks.

“Thank you for that. You are so fucking sexy,” she says as she straddles me.

Before I can even respond, she takes my hands and puts them above my head, pinning me there. And something about laying in her cum makes me almost moan.

“I want to make you feel good now. But I need to tell you something,” she continues.

The sudden conversation starter was almost jarring. Going from dirty talking to just talking is a new one for me mid-sex.

“I’ve never been with a woman. I mean, until you,” she says confidently, not breaking eye contact.

It’s rare that I’m completely speechless. But this is a first. I mean, it’s usually much earlier that this conversation happens. Certainly before a girl-on-girl virgin spends an hour worshiping my pussy. Like a pro, I might add.

“But you just…”, I inarticulately sputter out.

“Because I wanted to. Wanted you. I feel something with you,” she responded shyly.

“I just don’t want you to do anything that’s too fast.”

“Believe me, I want this. And I really want to fuck you. I need to taste you.”

We hold each other’s gaze. There’s something between us. And I trust her sincerity.

I slowly nod slowly, not breaking eye contact.

“I feel something to,” I say back to her as I lift my body up so I can cup her face. Our kiss this time is tender. More intimate than it should be at this point.

She moves her arm around me so I’m secure against her. She then moves her hand down to my pussy. As she feels my wetness her grip around me tightens.

“God. You are so wet,” she gasps as she puts her for forehead against mine.

“You did this to me,” I tell her.

Her eyes turned impossibly dark at that. Before she does anything else. She grabs the back of my hair and stares into my eyes.

I think she’s going to say something. Maybe even back out from the intensity.

“Please, babe,” I whisper to her. I’m not even embarrassed at this point, I need her to touch me.

She moves a second finger into me. Continuing to keep her arm around my back. And I can feel that I’m not going to last long.

“I want you to come for me,” she tells me in a demanding voice.

She puts two fingers in me and I feel like I’m going to burst.

“Fuck babe,” I moan as she goes even deeper.

She moves her thumb over my clit as she continues to plunge her fingers in to me. And we’re just so close to each other. As she straddles me, holding me up with her arm, and looking directly in to my eyes.

But then I can see some impatience flicker in her now black eyes. She’s not getting the angle she wants. In a swift movement, she lays me down on the bed on my side and gets behind me.

She moves her arm around my front and her hand finds my pussy again.

Now she has the access she wants and she fucks me harshly. She knows I can’t be teased right now. Not after seeing her come like I did.

“More, fuck, more, please,” I beg her.

She slips another finger in to me.

“You like to be filled? Do you want more baby?” She asks me so quietly in my ear I almost can’t hear her.

“Yes, one more. Yes, fuck.”

Usually I prefer a woman’s mouth on me. But something about her behind me as she pulls me in to her, whispering in to my ear, makes me want her there. Where I can hear her and feel her against me.

“Come for me baby, I can feel it. You’re ready.”

And as I hear her last command, I feel myself barreling towards my climax. I moan into the pillow as her fingers drive me into my orgasm.

Her fingers feel so good, they are expertly driving me to the edge. But the sexy way she communicates with me through all of this, like we’ve done this before, like we’ve known each other for years — is so intimate that it’s what ultimately pushes me to orgasm.

She moans as I come, almost as if she’s coming again and I can feel the heat from her pussy against my back, making me come again quickly.

I feel almost paralyzed as I come down from my orgasm. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m reminded that she’s never been with a woman before. And I believe her, but I’m also a bit shocked considering the finesse she just exhibited.

And as if to challenge my thought, she let out something akin to a growl as she flipped me on my back and moved to quickly straddle me. She puts both hands on either side of my head and looks down at me.

Her lips are red from our aggressive kissing. Her hair is coming out of its bun. Her eyes look lighter than they did in the height of our fucking. She looked like she wanted to say something. But she didn’t. Instead she moved her body over me and moved my legs apart. Suddenly I felt her pussy hit mine.

We were both still so wet that we moved together easily. I begin to regain a bit more control than I had right after my orgasm. I love her idea, but not our position. I pull my body up so she’s straddling me sitting up and move us so I can lay her under me.

I can see a spark of desire in her eyes at that. She likes my dominant side. We’ll have to play with that later.

I move so that my pussy is on hers again, only in a reversed position. I take both of her hands and bring them so I can pin them above her head. And then I grind down on her.

I leave all teasing aside and I create the friction we both need to come again. Our sore pussies feeling both pain and pleasure as I move up and down her.

“Fuck, yes, baby, fuck me,” she pants in to my ear.

At this point there’s nothing graceful or gentle about our sex. It’s become animalisitc. As if we know this is the last our bodies can handle. And we want to soak up the last remnants of pleasure that we can.

“I’m going to come,” she panted through her moans.

“Come with me,” I command back.

She pushes me up so she can see me. And as soon as I see her face again, I feel myself fall over the edge. I kiss her and swallow her orgasm that hits at the same time.

Our foreheads come together as we both let our orgasms bring us back down to Earth.

“Holy fucking shit,” she says in the cutest way possible.

“Yeah. Jesus,” is all I can manage to say back.

After a few moments of heavy breathing, her gripping my sides, I move off of her body and we both lay next to each other not saying anything. Like it’s happened a thousand times, she moves in to the crook of my arm and curled herself in to my body.

I can feel her lightly pull herself closer to me and inhale my hair. And somehow this act, so intimate for a stranger to do, it makes me feel like my heart is expanding. I pull her closer and we both fall to sleep, naked wrapped up in each other.

— — —

I wake up feeling like I slept 12 hours. The first thing I notice is hair tickling my face, before I feel the warm body still pressed tightly against me. Her warmth and smell surround me and all I want do is stay right here in this bed.

But as I look over at her nightstand I see the clock blinking 5:00am and I’m painfully aware that my dog and his bladder are probably pretty annoyed with me by now. This was not my original plan.

I slowly move myself from under her. She only slightly stirs. Part of me thinks I should wake her. The last thing I want her to think is that I just ghosted her after the night we shared. And I want to know her name. Anything about her.

I see a notepad on her desk and grab that and a pen so I could leave her my number. I jot that down at the top of the page and then add a quick note:

Last night was incredible. Call me.

I look at the note, judging it for it’s simplicity. I don’t really know how to capture what to say. So I finally just put it down gently on the pillow beside her.

I quietly dress and slip out of her door, making to lock it from inside as I leave so she’s safe.

Leaving that apartment building felt like wading through tar. Each step I took away from her felt more difficult to push through than the last.

But with each step my smile widened. Tonight was over, but our story has just begun.

#erotica #lesbian #gay #lgbt #romance #sex #queer #shortstory