by Sacchi Green
“Armed robbery—jewelry store. Thank you for your time, ma’am. Call us if you see anything.”
“Of course,” she said.
Once the door was closed she leaned against it and let out a nervous laugh. Maybe Shel would call her when life was less interesting. Or when she needed bail.
COWBOY DIRTY
Roxy Jones
The long, slick shaft leans toward me,
obscene in purple flecked with gold,
grunting low
and mean,
Baby, please. Do it again. Take me. Own me.
We’ve ripped the sticky sheets
and knocked the pictures from the wall
with condoms stolen from your daddy’s drawer
and an old pair of 501s buttoned up tight to hold it in place.
Lick me, baby.
It’s giving me that look, stiff and pointed like a dirty compass,
begging me for more.
I want that
soft
pink
flesh
one more time, baby.
Baby, baby…
Slide open for me, tight and wet,
Take it, darlin,
be my girl.
I giggle
as I lean down against your chest,
listening to your breathing,
the way your heartbeat slows
from the machine-gun rhythm of fucking like porn stars
to a slow thump thump as you fall into dreaming.
(Backs arching, thighs rubbing, lips tasting salty sweet sweat and more…)
My heart swells with pride, remembering how
my body invited you in,
loving so strong as you slid it in deep,
no prisoners,
no mercy,
riding my hips bareback,
’cuz baby don’t need no saddle.
How you looked, gazing down,
eyes wild with a woman’s desire,
but flashing that mischievous little-boy grin.
The way you spread my knees and slid your hands
down along my shuddering
inner
thighs
made me gasp
like the world had just. Stopped.
The way your hips pressed into me,
rough
and
sweet,
(Baby, baby, baby… my baby…god, yes, baby…)
as your eyes rolled back and your fingers raked my sides,
signing me like a work of art.
I watched your chest rise and fall awhile
and then slid my leg back across your still-sleeping form,
kissed your breasts
and spread my body over yours
saying,
“Yes, I belong to you,
my fierce, dirty cowboy,
and you—
my sexy,
amazing,
dangerous
creature”
(the fire in her eyes was hotter than Hell, and twice as hungry)
—“are Mine.”
SAUCY CHEEKS
Giselle Renarde
Sorry I’m late!” Marigold looked for the blaze in Donna’s eyes, but found amusement instead. “Some snooty bitch wouldn’t leave my department at closing time, then I wait forty minutes for the damn bus and, of course, three came at once…”
Donna cocked her head in the direction of two look-alike dykes. That was the whole point of this dinner, actually—the friends getting to know the girlfriend. Great first impression she’d made, but the women seemed amenable. They introduced themselves, and Marigold immediately forgot who was who. They were strikingly similar in appearance: heavy-set; short, sandy hair; dark clothes; lots of piercings.
“Nice to finally meet you.” Marigold’s chest tightened as she slouched into the empty chair. “Sorry again for being…” She glanced at her phone. “Oh, god, I’m over an hour late!”
“We had to start without you.” Donna smiled as though tardiness were no big deal. “In fact, dessert’s on its way.”
“I’m really sorry,” Marigold repeated, seeking some recognizable response.
Donna set a hand on hers. “You’re off the hook.”
The other women laughed, and one said, “Until you get home!”
Marigold felt a blush burn across her cheeks. How did they know? Did Donna discuss their private life with other people? The thought made her uneasy, and she squirmed in her chair.
Donna’s friends started talking about some new movie, and Marigold was glad the focus shifted. Was nothing sacred? When she shivered, Donna noticed and wrapped a white pashmina around her shoulders. Marigold shot her a look that asked, Are you sure? You know I’m messy.
When Donna nodded, Marigold absorbed the warmth of her woman through the fabric. Coffee and cake came, urging Marigold to sit taller. That chocolate mousse slice drizzled with raspberry coulis made her mouth water.
“Dig in, honey.” Donna handed her a fork.
“Thanks.” Marigold smiled as Donna’s friends kissed, and jumped when she felt Donna’s lips on her cheek. They’d never kissed in public before. This was… new. Wonderful. She felt all warm and fuzzy, sipping coffee, her girlfriend’s pashmina draped around her body.
And then it happened: Marigold took a forkful of mousse cake, lifted it to her mouth, and watched in slow motion as a drip of red coulis slipped through the prongs of her fork, beading against soft white fabric. It’ll be okay, Marigold told herself, but as she wiped up the droplet, the cake itself tumbled down. It broke into three layers: cake, mousse and deep chocolate icing. Oh, god, it would never come out….
“I’m sorry,” Marigold said for the fourth time in as many minutes. “I am such a klutz. I’ll wash it.”
“Maybe ask the server for some soda water?” one of Donna’s friends suggested. Marigold’s head was buzzing. She stood, flicking the cake to the table and removing the pashmina.
“I’ll come with you.” Donna pushed her chair back and rose. “I’m sure we can get it out.”
Marigold never felt so small as when she’d done something wrong. She walked to the washroom in a daze, feeling the hot press of Donna’s front against her back.
“I’m sorry,” she said again when they’d passed through the bathroom door.
Before she knew it, Donna’s mouth was slanted across hers, their lips a tight seal, tongues wrestling. This never happened. Never. But it was happening now—Donna was kissing her in a public bathroom, and kissing her hard! Marigold couldn’t get over the heat coming off her girl’s body. She felt consumed by it.
“I thought I’d be in trouble,” Marigold whispered, panting.
Donna tossed the pashmina in the sink. “Who says you’re not?” The growl in her voice made Marigold loopy, and she couldn’t believe it when Donna yanked her into the end stall. “Pull down those pants,” Donna instructed, even before the door was closed.
Marigold did as she was told, dropping slacks and cotton underpants to the floor.
Sitting fully clothed on the toilet seat, Donna patted her lap and Marigold fell onto it. At home, this was standard practice, but they were in public… well, in a public washroom. When the top of Marigold’s head met the toilet paper dispenser, she turned around to watch. “I’m sorry I was so late.”
“You’re off the hook, remember?” Donna’s eyes were kind. “The pashmina? That’s another story.”
“Sorry.” Marigold’s pussy clenched as she awaited sweet punishment. “If I can’t get the stain out, I’ll buy you a new one.”
Donna seemed to time her “Thank you,” exactly with the first smack against Marigold’s ass. Marigold let out a yelp, hoping there were no other patrons in here. They hadn’t even checked.
“How many?” Marigold asked as the second slap fell.
Another one—three so soon, and all in the same spot. That cheek was already red. “How many do you think?”
“Ten,” Marigold said without reflecti
on. She knew she’d want more.
Four came down hard in that same tender spot, and Marigold couldn’t contain her squeal. Lower for five—that one came down around her thigh. Six did, too—other cheek, other thigh. Marigold shifted in Donna’s lap, clenching her muscles tight. “Harder,” she begged. It was good, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
“Harder?” Donna asked, surprise in her voice.
“Please?”
Harder is exactly what Marigold got for seven, eight, nine. They fell in quick succession, and they were solid spanks every one of them. Marigold hissed, but she wanted more, oh so much more!
Ten was a disappointment: off the mark, falling in the middle of her asscrack without connecting properly. “Bonus round?”
“Saucy cheeks!” Donna teased.
The next one was much more precise. It caught the burn of her right cheek, and she felt her flesh ripple. Switch for the next one. It came down hard on her left cheek and sounded like a cracking whip. Marigold was squealing now, her pussy dripping wet and her feet running in place along the floor in anticipation.
The next few alternated in rapid fire: one, two, one, two, back and forth across her burning bottom. The pleasure-pain crossed the threshold to pain-pain, and Marigold couldn’t stop herself from crying, “Ow…it hurts,” as those precious blows fell one after another.
Marigold’s skin sizzled red-hot with friction when Donna determined the punishment was complete. Her bum burned so badly she couldn’t put her panties back on right away.
Donna left the stall for a moment, and came back with her pashmina, wetted in cold water. Again, she folded Marigold over her lap. This time she soothed the burn, tracing soft, cool wetness across Marigold’s poor searing bottom. It was an act of such love and compassion Marigold almost wanted to cry.
After a time, they left the stall and stood together at the sink, trying to rinse the chocolate and raspberry stain from that beautiful white scarf. Marigold jumped when one of their dinner companions poked her head in the door and handed them a glass of soda water. “Hope this does the trick,” she said, and promptly scuttled away.
Marigold met her girl’s gaze in the mirror and smiled. “Your friends are nice.”
LAST MINUTE
Catherine Paulssen
With a cappuccino in each of my hands, I watched Felice fooling around at the gift shop. She held a huge smiling balloon in front of her face and entertained some random kid, whose little body wriggled with laughter. His mother eventually dragged him away, and Felice straightened up again.
“Wasn’t that the cutest little fella?” she asked. “I might buy you this balloon to cheer your…Jen?” Her playful face crinkled into a frown. She took a few steps toward me through the buzz of the airport’s check-in area.
“Miss! You haven’t paid for that balloon!” a shop assistant snapped.
Felice ignored her. “Hey, what’s the matter? We’ll see each other again in two months, and—”
“I love you,” I blurted out, and watched her expression change.
Fear gripped me. I had ruined it, hadn’t I? You’re not supposed to tell a coworker who’s been at your branch only half a year on office exchange that you love her. Not even if she’s become your best friend in those six months, not even if the sound of her laughter makes your heart beat faster every time.
I gulped. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. It’s just—”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” She lifted my chin. “Why the hell did you wait until the last minute?”
My stomach made a little flip. Her voice was calm. Not at all upset. And her frozen-lake eyes looked at me as though I had just articulated the long-sought-after explanation of some scientific marvel, not something that would ruin our whole friendship. “You…do you mean you—”
She laughed. “I’ve been in love with you ever since your cute rendition of ‘You Are My Sunshine’ at the karaoke bar!”
This time, the flip was stronger. Before I could process what she’d just said, her lips pressed against mine, and I could hear her giggle under our kiss. The moment before I closed my eyes, I saw the smiling balloon fly away, floating up toward the airport’s glass ceiling.
“I was drunk,” I pouted, clumsily trying to disguise how giddy I felt inside.
“You were so adorable.” She bit her lips, and for some moments, we remained lost in each other’s grins.
“Come!” she said, putting down her coffee and taking my hand.
“You have to pay for that balloon!” an annoyed voice called after us.
Felice rolled her eyes and hurried back to throw a bill on the counter. I watched her blonde hair flying along with a floaty top that didn’t do nearly enough justice to her curves.
I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to discuss what all of this meant. I didn’t want to think up ways to make it work over a distance of a thousand miles.
I wanted to taste her lips again.
“There!” She pointed to an empty black bubble chair somewhat hidden in a corner. We fell into the chair and snuggled against each other, her fingers brushing my fringe out of my eyes. At the mere touch of her fingers, I could feel happiness rush to my face and color my cheeks pink.
But that was nothing compared to the tingles she evoked when she ran two fingers over my lips, creating sizzles that shot right through to my belly button.
“We can talk all night over the phone, huh?” She grinned.
I cupped her face with both hands and kissed her again. This time, it was all different. I savored it. Her body pressing against mine. Our knees touching. Her fingers fondling the nape of my neck. And those lips… I made them mine, and it was like discovering a whole new world. So gentle. So demanding.
So desperate.
“You…” She shook her head at me, but there was an impish twinkle in her eyes. “Telling me today.” Again her fingers stroked my face. “Lean against me,” she whispered. I did and then watched her arrange her jacket over my thighs. My breath hitched in my throat as her fingers crawled underneath my skirt and touched my naked skin.
“You’re so much braver than me,” she continued in a loving whisper as her hand tugged my panties away. “I thought it was better to have you as a best friend than not at all.” Her finger crawled underneath the mesh, and I opened my legs as far as the limited space allowed. “When all I could think about was undressing you piece by piece…” She kissed my eyes, my nose, my mouth. “…and running my lips over your naked skin.”
I nestled my head against her shoulder and relished watching the small patch of black bra that came in and out of view every time she moved. Taking a shy glance around, I let my finger explore the smooth skin of her neck down to the rim of the lace.
I liked how her breath quickened.
Felice took my hand and kissed my fingertips. “They’ll be all yours, baby.” She didn’t give me any time to pout, just parted my pussy lips with subtle fingers. “You like that?” she softly rubbed the length of them.
I wished I could scream out how much. Impatiently, I poked my pussy closer to her touch. The tip of her finger met my clit, and I jumped as liquid heat shot through me.
“Shh,” she soothed, making sure we appeared to passersby as mere innocent snugglers, when in fact, she was working me up in the most tantalizing way beneath the jacket’s cover. Nuzzling at my ear, she continued to whisper about how she could feel me pulsating underneath her thumb, how she imagined it was her tongue instead, what we would do once we were in each other’s arms again.
“You’re so creamy,” she sighed and dipped deeper into my pussy to massage me so eagerly I had to bury my face in her neck to keep from crying out. The peach and almond scent of her conditioner will forever smell like the sweetest caress to me.
“Oh, please…” I pressed my mouth against her skin, damp from my breath, and prayed it would muffle my moans. Torn between obeying my body’s urge to spasm around her fingers and remaining as still as I possibly could, I dug my nail
s into her arm to find some outlet for the sensations overwhelming me as she circled my soaking clit and cradled my writhing body.
Huddled against her, safe in her embrace, I came down from heights so intense I wanted to kiss her senseless for raising me to them.
“I wish we had more time,” I whispered as I regained my breath.
“I will never regret a single moment. This was…” She shook her head, and a tender smile grew on her face. “…the best first date I’ve ever had.”
I hugged her, laughing, crying and soaking up as much of her peachy scent as I could.
I kept my eyes shut as we kissed good-bye, and for what seemed like hours, I remained curled up in the curve of the chair—numbed, happy, sad, bewildered, shaken—while the last traces of her lips evaporated from my skin.
BREATHLESS
Ariel Graham
I ran into her. Knocked her flat. Came round the corner of the pool building on the running trail and didn’t expect anyone else on the path because it was a cold, gray April day in Northern Nevada, spitting rain. Anyone with any sense was inside at 5:30 P.M.
I’ve never had any sense.
So I ran into her. Full-body contact.
It wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t pretty. The end of a long run and my Swedish ancestry not only means keep moving or get fat in my midthirties, it also means running makes me turn beet red and appear minutes away from a coronary event.
She cushioned my fall.
I apologized before I even got her out of the juniper bush. She might have been upset if she hadn’t been laughing so hard.
So when I asked, “Are you all right?” it was partly regarding mental processes. Maybe she’d hit her head?
She let me help her up and we both stood in the early, cloud-induced twilight. My sweat started to chill on my legs.
My breathing relaxed enough for me to ask again, “Are you all right?”