Erotic short story writer (bisexual). My stories center around female characters and their pleasure. Let's reclaim our pussies!
- What do you want to do now? – he asked me. - I don’t know, we’ve already exhausted all my ideas – I replied. We had played a video game and a board game, we had watched a movie, we’d done an online workout tutorial, we’d gone shopping, we’d baked and we’d video called our families. We’d even gotten round to do a bit of work.
To all the people I hate(d)
A few weeks ago I was going to take part in a documentary about women´s rage. For the documentary I had to record a personal interview where I was asked how I was raised regarding my rage: was I taught to acknowledge and express it or to ignore it and suppress it. That part was no problem. In fact, it was fun because I don’t have much of a filter and I learnt more about how I view women’s rage through my answers.
How to explain a city that is a feeling? Where do you start? I guess starting with one of its natives is as good of a beginning as any. I was born in Madrid and I lived there for 20 years, the first 20 years of my life. The city shaped me, but I thought I was oh-so independent from it. No attachment to the city I was born in or the place I went to school. To the winding streets of its city centre or the massive parks, new and old, the city’s struggle against the dry heat in summer and the dry cold in winter.
Sing me to bed
The lights turned on and illuminated the stage. It was of modest size, she wasn’t a superstar (yet). But it was still packed with people excitedly waiting for her to go on stage. I had queued for most of the afternoon, something quite uncommon in my city. Usually, people were more rational about the whole concert thing and waited at home until 30 minutes before the show started. But this time it was different. She was different. Anyone could tell that she was a star in the making and wanted to listen to her live while she still performed in cosy and cheap venues.
The corridor was endless, or at least it seemed like it to her. The appointment had been set for five o’clock and thinking that she would easily find her way to the office, she had taken her sweet time with the coffee. Now it was ten past and she still hadn't found it.
A Little Bit More Than Just Yoga
I had been going to yoga class for a few months. My life was proving to be super stressful and I needed something to relax and make me feel like I was at least trying to look after myself. I loved the class: I left full of energy but relaxed each time and feeling at peace with myself. I had made a few friends with whom I sometimes went to a bar after the class. One of the recurring topics we talked about on those nights was the affair we were 100% sure the yoga instructor and a personal trainer were having. He used to come at the same time each session to train with his customer right in front of our transparent walls. We were sure he stayed for a few hours afterward too, just with a different company. We spotted the looks they shot each other when he passed by our room when only the glass walls and their duties as gym employees separated them. We also saw that he stayed waiting by the lockers when we were all filing down the hallway to shower and go back home. Our class was the last of the day, so we were always debating if they just directly went to one of their apartments, or if they would have dinner together first if their neighbors would hear them...
I was nervous. Well, I was shitting my pants, to tell you the truth. I had been thinking of a nipple piercing for some time now, but of course, I had done a search on YouTube and seeing the people scream with pain had dissuaded me. Until now. One day, God knows why, you have to have the piercing done, and no one can persuade you otherwise. So, you go and do it.
I wondered what it felt like to be a panther. To crawl up the bed, from the feet to the head, over him. To pin his hands down, and take control of everything happening in bed. I wanted to be in charge, to feel that power. I dressed for the occasion: platforms, and a see-through black dress that showed the scarce underwear, that barely covered my bush or my tush. My breasts were supported by a lycra bra surrounding them, but no cover, so that my nipples were clearly visible through the dress. My hair was tied high, and tight in a braided ponytail. I walked dressed up like this for the whole afternoon, to build up the character and the bravery I needed to pull my act off for the first time.
Nursing My Needs
The doctor had told me I was worryingly down on B12. I didn't even know what that implied, but she sounded very worried and she had told me I had to get five shots to restore me to normal levels. I stayed in the waiting room for a while, until the nurse came to get me. He was the only male nurse in the small clinic, so I'd already checked him out. He told me to come through another room that only had a couple of cupboards and one of those examination seats.
The Details of My Microscope Room Adventure
I was having quite some trouble saving my images at the microscope. I had tried several times, but my files kept being saved in such a way that they were "unopenable" anywhere else. I had followed the steps I had been told and set it all up so that they would be automatically saved after the microscope finished taking all of them, but somewhere something was obviously going wrong, and I didn't know what. So, finally, I decided to ask for help. Since he was a senior PhD that had used that particular microscope for the whole three years he had been working on his project, he was the obvious person to ask. If I have to be honest, if it had been anyone else I probably would have asked the first time I didn't manage to save the files properly, but it was him. I was so into him that it made me nervous to even approach him, let alone talk to him. I'd had my eye on him since the start, but he didn't seem interested in anyone in that way, so I just left him alone.
We were lying on my bed, warming each other with the heat from our naked bodies. The sweat hadn’t yet dried from our skin, our smiles were not yet faded. We lay there, his arm under me and my head resting on his chest. I cuddled him, breathing in his scent, which I knew I would miss when he went back home.