Member-only story
In light of all the controversy surrounding the comments made J.K. Rowling about sex, sexuality, gender, and transfolk, I thought it would be appropriate to post this story from our first book, Match, Cinder & Spark, Volume I: Nymphomania and the Single Girl.
“You’re such a man,” I said to Lo, “and I love it.” That was Monday morning. We had spent a wild weekend in Manhattan and now our sleeping rhythms were all askew. She awoke at around three in the a.m. and she was having trouble falling back to sleep. I eventually awoke to her right hand rhythmically rubbing her clit under the blankets and her hips slowly gyrating up and down on the mattress. Her breathing grew more rapid and she began to make little moans, like a cat purring. Eventually her quick breaths elongated into heavy sighs and the gyrations grew to rhythmic pulses as she whispered, “God, God, yes, God,” to herself. And then, like going from fifth gear to neutral, she was back to her silent, still self. But not for long. Within fifteen or twenty minutes she was at it again. And again. And again. And then one last time just before the sun rose. When we both awoke at seven, I said to her, “I counted five times you came last night.” She responded with, “I was trying to fall asleep.” That’s when I told her that she is such a man.
Or so it seems to me. That is to say that the effect that orgasm has on men — I find, and Lola has…