I love ears and nipples. My mouth has a thousand surfaces: my firm outer lips paint your ear with my latest color as those same lips soften, opening into wet inner edges; a smooth surface is revealed beneath my tongue; cautious teeth hold the power to pull and destroy; my lips press to suck until… Read More >>
Z slowly kissed down my chest like no one ever has before while I sunk into the corner of the sectional. They traced the wet of their mouth all along my skin while I played with their hair, a smirk forming on my lips. “Oh, you want to worship me, huh,” I said. Their singsong,… Read More >>
I’m sitting on their lap. I pull the sharp edges of their blonde hair to angle their head up to me. I don’t feel them hard beneath me, their body isn’t asking me to grind up on them, their body is asking me to do what I want with them, but I don’t know their… Read More >>
They grabbed my first two fingers and put them in their mouth, then shoved theirs in mine. It was all so visual — the way she performed: sucking just the tips of my fingers before deep throating them and sucking them hard, making me so wet. I brought my left hand down to their soaking… Read More >>
She looks ravenous. I feel filleted. She’s perched between my legs, fingers circling against the edges of my pussy slowly while she squeezes her own pink nipples. I want her to reach inside me and destroy any vestige of who I was before. I whisper, desperate, trying not to show it, “I want you to… Read More >>
When I walked into Ships in the Night, a QTPOC dance party in Oakland, I was looking to get fucked. I’d just broken up with someone I’d later name as emotionally and sexually abusive but who, at the time, I was completely heartbroken over. I couldn’t let the last fingers that grazed my pussy be… Read More >>
Being present in my body has meant new pleasures. When I was drunk and dated men, I liked rough sex. I wanted them to call me a “bitch” and treat me like I was worthless. I fantasized about being a slut who went home with random guys, guys who didn’t care if I liked it… Read More >>
When I start my shift as an ICU nurse, I know the people I take care of will die. Whether it happens on my shift, the next one, or next year, this fact doesn’t change. Every coffeeshop, classroom, amusement park, and subway is full of living people who will one day die. Regardless, I choose… Read More >>
“Some people talk about ya like they know all about ya . . .” I remember watching the video for Janelle Monáe’s “Tightrope” for the very first time. I had just moved to Washington DC after college for my first job as a nurse. Socially isolated in a new city, I found Monáe’s music by… Read More >>
It’s Saturday and I’m kicking pebbles on an uneven dusty trail. I touch the gray rock to my left, and peer off the trail down to the right. Browned shrubs and scraggly vines work their way out of the dirt and rock. Southern California is parched; the stream that once carved this path is dry.… Read More >>