Literature, Literotica, Lesbians, and Life

“You always portray me as going for it, as the slut, the nympho, the horny, insatiable, out-of-control sex fiend. It’s one-dimensional. That’s not who I am. I’m not like that.” She said all this, mind you, as she sat wearing merely a black t-shirt and nothing else, her legs spread on the couch with the windows and blinds wide open looking out onto the dark street — a street of hidden eyes looking back no doubt.

I had just finished reading to her the last installment, “The Cum-On,” and she objected vituperatively to the comparison, if any, between her and…