Posts Tagged ‘butch’

It’s a sunny but chilly day today. I watch the cars drive in and drive out. Almost all of them are speeding and whizzing by as if trying to win a race. Frenzied and in that angst that overwhelms the holiday shoppers, they’ve all temporarily lost their sanity and any good judgment that they may have ever had.

The store is closed today – it is Thanksgiving. Even silent is the bell of the Salvation Army’s bell-ringer, whom I have passed with disdain these past few days. I wonder to myself if they have noticed a decline in donations after the public became aware of their support of anti-gay legislation and such? It crosses my mind that the boycotting could be carried a step further and letters and emails could be sent to these stores, demanding that they not allow the group to use their store fronts for such things anymore.

This morning I was awakened by the crows calling loudly. Caw! Caw! Caw! My cats were in the windows, ears perked-up and meowing back at the vile birds as they hopped back and forth across the roof of my RV. The only one who is not disturbed is the dog. He’s grown deaf in recent months and he sleeps a peaceful, innocent sleep now. No longer is he my protector; it is I who have become his guardian, yet again. We’ve returned to the days when he was a pup and I watched over his every move like a concerned parent. No longer can my smart fella walk off his leash with me, for he cannot hear me call him away from danger or tell him to stay when need be. Now he prances and wiggles at the end of his leash, turning to look back and check to make sure I am still there at the end of the leash. “Yes, sweet boy, it is still ME holding your leash.”

This is the parking lot that we’ve made our temporary home. From inside the RV I watch the world go on around us and I have had much time to think and reflect. I may not have much, but I also don’t think that I have the stresses that most of the world has either. Ten cars have come and gone as I have written this much. Are the rolls that they forgot for their Thanksgiving dinner really this important?

In the distance, I can hear an angry man screaming. It is just after 10 am and he is cursing, “fucking, fuck fuck fuck! Fucking BITCH! I didn’t wanna do this anyway….” I wonder what HE forgot?

I think I view the world differently than most people do. I don’t care about money very much. I’d rather be poor than have that guy’s stress. I don’t even care about food all that much anymore. When I have it, I eat. When I don’t, I don’t. If I get to a point that it has been more than ten days and I find myself getting weak or feeling sick, I have learned where to go and I can get help now. It took me time in a new city to figure this out. I know where all the food banks are at. I pick out all the canned meats they give me and feed it to the dog and cats. I don’t typically eat meat anyway and I’m responsible for them so I make sure that they get their fair share too.

Today is a good day, I think. I have money this week, so I am eating. Today, for Thanksgiving, we are having spaghetti, right here in the parking lot – our parking lot today. This is the first meal that I’ve cooked and eaten hot in almost three months at home, here in the RV. Since July, I have lived without electricity. I’ve concluded that as long as I have a can opener, I am capable of eating most things straight from the can. I use free wifi at businesses to do my work all week. So for me, it really is Thanksgiving. I have much to be thankful for. I see all the little things….and I’m not that screaming guy.

They are fighting again. Another car speeds by, stops at the doors to the Publix and then squeals away, obviously pissed-off that others had the day off too?

Tuesday, I told the woman who I love that I didn’t want to see her anymore. It causes me too much pain. I do love her but she doesn’t see the real me. She lives in another world and I don’t have the ability to make her see mine. I tried but her eyes just cannot focus on things that she cannot begin to even imagine. It is like all along she’s had an image of what I am in her head that isn’t really me. I can’t live up to it. I quit trying.

She’s a good person, she really is, but she’s very damaged in her own way. I think she’s more damaged than I am. I would have accepted all her faults and quirks, because I was capable of looking the other way and thinking that some of it was even funny. I have made some of her damage worse, because I have vehemently stood up for myself and tramped on her feelings a few times in the process. We both had damage and I don’t think we have been good for each other, love or not. The only thing I have accomplished with her is the hurt her feelings while she remains clueless about things.

When I was laying in a hospital bed a month ago, wondering if I was going to live or die and in so much pain that they were shooting me full of morphine, the only thing I thought about was how I felt about her. Yet, she didn’t bother to call or even offer to come and see me. I took it as her way of not wanting to be seen involved with a woman. She still passes as straight, lives in a straight world and enjoys straight privilege. In recent months I have texted her that I missed her and she never, not one time could bring herself to say “I miss you too” or anything even remotely like that.

In the past six months I have lived without electricity for the most part. I have gone without food for extended periods of time. I have read my bible by the light of street lamps and I have sat in libraries and restaurants (when I had money) to use their wifi and do work, bid on work and write my blog and work on my next book. In that time I have been stiffed by two clients for $478, when I was starving, literally. I was in the process of being evicted.

I never asked her for anything, but when I sent too many emails to her (probably because down deep I was frantic and worried and stressed and looking for any kind of friend or someone to listen), she called me needy. The St Vincent De Paul society came through for me and gave me a 30 day bus pass so I could get to the soup kitchen and pantry. Finally, I could eat daily! I remember the first day I stood in line with homeless people, men and women were all in the same boat as me. In fact, I was better off because even though I may have to park in parking lots, I had a bed that went with me everywhere.

The abandoned parking lot that my RV in far background made home for Thanksgiving Day.

Through it all, the woman I loved would call once in a while, talk about how hectic her work schedule was, how awful her patients were from time to time, going out to eat with other friends, how she didn’t understand why I spent so much time on Facebook even though I have told her a thousand times it is how I network and sell my books and market my blog. She would tell me that I wasn’t hearing her when she was telling me what she wanted/needed. I’d think to myself that I was starving, had been in the hospital and she couldn’t even call me and she wanted me to hear HER? This is when I began to realize that I didn’t love her anymore. In fact, I had grown to resent her. All I ever wanted was to be accepted, to be given some kind of affection … a hug once in a while. In six months, I haven’t been hugged, kissed or even touched first by her. She said to me one day, “you know if you had a car we’d see more of each other.” She hadn’t even listened to me talk about not being able to afford food or rent or having chest pains before I went in the hospital … but she thought if I had a car we could see more of each other.

Don’t get me wrong. Through the entire ordeal of the last 9 months of my life, I have a lot to be thankful for. I heard God speak to me and I’ve been able to let go of a lot of pain and agony from my life, especially my childhood. This woman who has hurt me so many times also helped me by being the catalyst that pushed me to these things … so I don’t regret knowing her or coming here, but I realize that the time of being useful to each other has passed. I can learn nothing else from her now. It’s time to move on.

In the last six months I have published 6 books and I have 2 more on the way. In June I started this blog, which now has over 2100 followers. I have a fan page with almost 500 fans and nearly 500 followers on Twitter too. I am getting back on my feet now and I have that to be thankful for. My old dog may not be what he used to be, but he understands how to show me that he loves me and I’m really thankful for his hugs and his kisses.

Today, I am thankful for this parking lot. There’s a guy in a car parked not far away. He’s drinking straight from a bottle of booze in the front seat. I bet he hates his life today. It’s sad. I should but I don’t. I feel sorry for this guy. Here I sit, with paper and pen – I’ll type it out tomorrow when somewhere with wifi is open. I’m armed with my cell phone and I am alive. I have food. There is a bed in here. I don’t want or need much else, except I guess to be loved for who and what I am. For someone to realize that this simple way of life is sort of what I am best at. I survive for a living in many ways.

Today, I want to remind you all that you should be thankful for what you have. Be thankful if you have love. Be thankful for every friend you have ever had, every person you have ever loved regardless of how it ended because they served a purpose in your life. If you don’t see that, then you have not learned your lesson. If you forget the butter or the rolls today, tomorrow and or any other day, eat the rolls with gravy instead. Be thankful you are eating because there are many who do not. There were a lot of people who had no one around or a big meal to boast about on Thanksgiving day.

Just CHOOSE to be okay with what you have! You will survive. You’d be surprised at what we can survive when we have to. God bless you all, from my parking lot to your home … remember that we are all just temporarily parked in the parking lot of life and eventually our space will be vacant. Enjoy the parking lot while you can.

 

Love,

Jesse

About these ads

The brand new cover design for Butch Sexology 2.

 

It is all in here!

 

The first reviewer says – “The dance that exists within the Butch-Femme dynamic is both unique and powerful and this book compels the reader onwards, word by sultry word. Having read as many of this author’s contributions, I urge anyone within or interested in the Butch-Femme modality to grab a coffee, sit back and prepare to be dazzled … be warned, the coffee will be cold by the time you remember to take a sip.” ~ Aryn

Description

The original, Butch Sexology – Tales From the Erotic Zone, was banned at Book Tango for being ‘too pornographic in nature.’ It also reached the top twenty of Amazon’s best selling adult fiction and remains in the top 50 best selling lesbian fiction at all times. I set-out this time to show them what pornographic was! This book is hotter, longer and talks about more ‘taboos’ than any other story I have ever written and published.

The characters are all hot, uninhibited and well-written to make you feel as if you are in the room with them … or on the table being fucked by one of them.

Photo courtesy of Glass Onion Images
Models: Skye R. Isono and Amber Marie

My hands are on your hips. My face is in the nape of your neck. The water from the shower beats down on your skin and on mine, in a cascade of warmth and stimulation. Your skin is soft and warm and I want to melt into you. My lips find your skin and softly touch you, tasting you and leaving loving kisses on your flesh.

I’m completely aware of your breathing. I can feel your chest moving against me and feel your hand reach around me to hold me close to you. Softly, you moan. I reach for the soap and I begin to rub your body with my hands, working-up a lather all over your torso. I can feel the wetness between my legs that is definitely not water. Again, you moan. I want to kiss you all over, worship your body and bring you pleasure like you’ve never felt before. Just like the song, I want to make your body my wonderland and play with it all night long.

My lips find your breasts and your nipples are already erect and longing for my touch. I’m overcome with such passion that you have to remind me to be gentle. I get carried away in my lust sometimes and forget how sensitive this soft, pale-pink flesh can be.  I relax and try to just enjoy your creamy soft skin in my mouth and relish how amazing your alabaster flesh feels against my lips and tongue.

Softly, with your hands in my hair, you put your cheek against mine and whisper in my ear, Can we go lay down? I don’t think I can stand-up anymore.” You’ve made me tingle all over and I nod against your neck and your shoulder, unable to give you a verbal response at the moment. You turn the water off, step out of the shower and reach for a towel. You turn to hand me a towel too, but I grab a hold of yours and pull you close. I only want to kiss you and touch you. I don’t want to take my hands off of you. I’ve been so starved for you. Our lips meet and we kiss softly at first, but it quickly turns into a twisted knot between my tongue and yours, exploring and seeking. I feel like I’m being burned alive. I want you and I can’t wait to taste you on my lips.

You giggle softly and start backing up toward the door, in the direction of the bedroom. I playfully follow you, step by step, until you are standing with your legs against the bed. Pushing you back onto the bed, I crawl over the top of you and continue kissing you, letting my hand roam between your legs. I can feel the hair that you neatly trim and I love the natural feel that you opt for. It’s so sexy. It’s just … you. I let my fingers play and entwine themselves, lingering in it a moment. Your pussy fits perfectly in my cupped hand. I can hear you suck in your breath now and you whisper, “I love the way you touch me.”

Your words move me to continue and I gently slip my fingers deeper between the lips of your labia and rub them back and forth against you to stimulate you and also to get them wet for the purposes of entering you. I slip my thumb inside you. I like this angle for my hand and I can lay closer to you like this. I can look at your face as I stroke my fingers inside of you. Your face always tells me everything I need to know. Your shrieks of passion are icing on my cake. This moment, you have called out my name and your chest rose sharply from the breath you sucked into your lungs. I’m immediately drawn to your gorgeous breasts and filled with desire to have your nipples in my mouth. As I succumb to my desire, you groan and utter one word, “yessss.” You breathe the word out into the air, as if you’re speaking it to the entire universe, and I’m filled with emotions too hard to explain. I can only act on them.

As your body ignites in a spontaneous combustion of sorts, fueled by my desire to please you and pour more fuel into your fire, you are now speaking loudly. I can hear you. “I love your hands. I love how you touch me. I love the way you know exactly what to do to me.” You make me want to please you just that much more. You fill me with a passion that starts deep inside, like a hot coal that burns a hole through my flesh and is only satisfied by your screams and cum in my face. I can feel you building. My fingers are inside of you – stroking you, but I need to move to bring you to complete orgasm now. I know what you need and what you desire. I want to please you and make your body mine.

Sliding myself between your legs, I’m on the floor now, at your feet. I gently lift your legs over my shoulders and guide your feet to rest on each of my shoulders. Your body is wide open in front of me now. I take a moment to look at what I consider to be the most beautiful piece of art in the entire world, your womanhood. I’m enthralled with your body and with you … all of you. I always tell you that you’re beautiful. I mean it in so many ways other than your face and your body. All the emotions, all the feelings I have for you are combined with the passion of this moment and it seems like I will not be able to keep myself from exploding into a million pieces right here and now. I watch as I slip my fingers back inside of you. Your hips move to greet my fingers and my eyes glance up in time to see you also looking down at my face. I reach for your hand now and you grasp it firmly, as my other hand strokes you.

Leaning forward, my tongue finds you. You are swollen, throbbing and pulsing with desire. As my lips surround you, your head falls back onto the bed and you moan and I can hear you call my name. My response is to stroke you faster and move my tongue in rhythm with my fingers and the magical song we are playing, using your body as the instrument.

As you reach your climax, I can feel you tighten around my fingers and it begins like a pulse. You’re squirming and beginning to back yourself up onto the bed. It’s as if the pleasure is so intense that you feel the need to back away from it, but I’m not going to let you. I move with you, until we are both fully on the bed and rather than let up, I’m stroking you faster now, diving back into you with my face. You scream now. I hear my name. Yes, I love it. Then I hear you, “Ohhh…ohhh baby. I cumming!”

I already knew. You are now squeezing my fingers so hard that they have barely received blood for two minutes. Suddenly, I feel the flood as you cum with the power of water rushing through a broken dam. I can’t stop licking. I want every single drop. You allow it for as long as you can take it until, finally, you are begging me to stop because you’re unable to take the intensity one moment longer.

I move to hold you. I just want to touch you now; lay with you and hold you close. I want to feel the heat of your skin and the sweat that we’ve shared in this dance of desire. You’re so sexy, so beautiful … so ‘everything I ever wanted’ and I run out of words to express the feelings that I have when I think about you. “Just let me cuddle with you and fall asleep,” I whisper as I kiss your chest and lay my head against you. You wrap your arm around me and pull me close and I lay and listen to your heartbeat. You do what you always do. You lay in the dark and talk until you are exhausted and can’t talk anymore. I can hear your breathing change as you begin to drift off. I don’t tell you I love you…but I know that you know. I smile to myself and say thanks for this day, for this life and most of all … for you.

Hey everyone, first of all, I am aware there are a couple of glitches on the back cover but those will be gone in the final edit. :) I just wanted you to see the design and artwork…and most importantly, the photo I chose for the cover!

A special thanks to Skye R Isono (model), Amber Marie (model), JJ Hirsch at Glass Onion Images, Oscar Gonzalez (0wner of that hot-ass motorcycle), Steelbones Corsets who supplied Amber’s corset in the shoot (they must have known how much I LOVE that look) and everyone else who had even a tiny part in this. THANK-YOU ALL!

 

The brand new cover design for Butch Sexology 2. It will be out in about 2 weeks!

Skye Isono, model and aspiring actress. Skye will be the star on the cover of Butch Sexology II – The REALLY Naughty Stuff!

Hello everyone! I have an interesting proposition for you. In my new book, which is pretty much complete, I am going to offer “product placement” within the stories. If you have a business, a product, a website, a place of business or anything that you’d like to advertise in my book for ABSOLUTELY FREE, then leave a comment below on how you can either give me a link back to my books, advertise for me or whatever you can dream up!

I’m not talking about a list of links in the back of the book! I’m talking about actually writing you into the story somewhere, so that you are 100% guaranteed that anyone who reads the book is going to see you. If they are reading on Kindle, they can click right over to you from the book! How great is that for your business??

You’re links will be LIVE in my Kindle version. This is a unique way to market your products without having to spend any advertising dollars. There is virtually no risk to you at all. Pitch me your idea and sell me on your product, service or whatever! I can’t add ALL people’s stuff, so you’ll have to really sell me on your ideas. Maybe I get a free product or something. Maybe you give me a permanent link on your site. After all, you’re going to be in my book FOREVER!

How many people are going to see this? Well, the FIRST book has only been out for 90 days and has been downloaded and sold to 1175 people! I fully expect the follow-up book to outsell the first. I expect sales to be well over 7000 copies in the first year alone.

The photo shoot is happening in Texas this week for the cover art. I’m so excited! Skye Isono is a great model and this cover is going to have a butch, a femme and a motorcycle! This is a combination for HOTNESS! I guarantee that this book is going to make the last one look entirely too tame.

Would you like to get a free autographed copy of the book when it comes out? Follow me on Twitter for a chance to win! Look to the left for the link to my Twitter account! I’ll be choosing one person a week for the first four weeks after the book launches, to get a free autographed copy! Tweet me! RT me! Who wants that book? ;)

Here is a sneak peek at my newest book, coming out in just a few short weeks! WARNING! This is sexually explicit, lesbian erotica. Do not read if you are offended. This book covers more ground than the last book. I deliberately included some material that is sometimes considered taboo. This particular story includes fisting and is not necessarily going to appeal to everyone. To my fans, I believe that it will. Your comments are welcome.

 

The original Butch Sexology.

 

 

 Not In A Million Years

There I was, sitting at the bar on a Thursday night. It was raining outside and the bar had a normal crowd. It was fairly busy but nothing like the weekends. I liked sitting at the far end because I could see everyone coming and going. I could sit and drink my beer and admire the eye candy as it walked in the door; it was the perfect spot.

In they walked, the three of them talking amongst themselves, giggling and carrying on. I noticed them right away. Hell, I couldn’t miss them. The three of them were very ‘girly’ with dresses, purses, heels, make-up and looking like proper ladies out on the prowl.

Not being at the bar for purposes of picking someone up, I was not immediately inclined to show any interest. However, I couldn’t help but notice the lady in the black dress. She was wearing pantyhose and spiked heels. Her dark brown hair was long and wavy and it fell in front of her shoulders, coming to rest on her breasts that were accentuated by the low-cut dress that she was wearing. I was a sucker for long hair.

As I watched them come in and take a table, she glanced towards me and I immediately smiled but didn’t hold my stare. Instead, I gave a nod to go with my smile and promptly ordered another beer from the bartender, as I looked away. I never liked to be too forward.

I watched the women sit and chat, laughing and having a good time. A few times, they got up and danced together, the way that groups of women so often do. I maintained my post on my bar stool. They weren’t going anywhere. The night went on and they had more to drink and so did I.

At about 11pm, she finally wandered to the bar to order herself a drink. She came and stood almost close enough to touch my arm at the bar. I smiled at her and she smiled at me. She spoke, “I haven’t seen you move all night. You can’t be having much fun!”

“Oh sure I am. I have the best seat in the house. I can see everything that is going on from right here. I see who walks in and I know when beautiful ladies are at the bar to get another drink,” I smiled at her as I spoke.

She giggled at my open flirtation. “I’m April,” she grinned as she held out her hand.

“I’m Casey, nice to meet you,” I took her hand and gave her my best smile. I didn’t offer to remove my hand all too quickly and she allowed her hand to linger a few moments as I continued speaking with her. “So, are you and your friends out celebrating something? You’re awfully dressed-up for this bar.”

“No, we’re just out having a good time. It’s our ‘ladies’ night out,” she was still smiling. I could see her looking at my hair. She finally withdrew her hand when the bartender came to take her order.

As she waited for her drink I touched the chair next to me, “Why don’t you have a seat. Those heels can’t be too comfortable.”

She sat but protested, “Oh, they aren’t that bad. You get used to them. I only get sore after I’ve been dancing too long.”

“You mean like tonight?”, I grinned at her.

“Okay, you got me there. Yes, fine … I’ll admit it. My feet are freaking killing me!” With that she burst out laughing and I laughed with her. When the laughter stopped there was a moment of silence that was filled with tension as the chemistry between us was becoming clear.

The bartender interrupted, right on cue but she did not leave immediately. She lingered a moment and took a sip of her cocktail. She was drinking a white Russian. “Mmmm…that’s yummy.”

“I love those when I’m in the mood.” I looked into her eyes. They were brown. In fact they were so dark brown that they almost looked black, especially in the dimly lit bar at this hour of the night. “There’s a lot of things I love when I’m in the mood.”

Now she blushed. Even in the near dark, I could see the blood rush to her face and neck and begin to work it’s way down her chest towards her cleavage, which I now took the opportunity to take a good look at. She just giggled a nervous giggle. Still, she hadn’t left.

I stood from my bar stool and held my hand out to her, “Wanna dance?”

“Sure,” she replied and sat her drink next to mine.

“Gotta take your shoes off too,” I grinned at her.

“What? NO! I couldn’t do that,” she gasped wide-eyed.

“Okay, well then you have to agree to let me rub your feet afterward.” Now she didn’t know what to say. She stammered for a moment but I didn’t give her a chance to answer. I took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

We danced for three songs, getting progressively flirtatious as things went along. Alcohol and music tends to have that effect. When we were getting hot and sweaty it was time to head back to our drinks.

As she picked her drink up from the bar she smiled at me and said, “I really suppose I should go check-in with my friends.” She glanced towards the table where her girlfriends were sitting. They were looking at her and waving. She waved back to them as if to say, “I’m coming!”

Before she walked away, I smiled, “Well now, don’t be a stranger. You know which end of the bar to get your drinks at now.”

“Yes, I do.” She walked away and grinned from ear to ear. When she got back to her table, I could see them all gather in a gaggle and start talking. I knew they were getting the scoop on what was going on and I thought it was funny.

I tried not to let them know I was watching out of the corner of my eye, but they probably knew. Femmes seem to know that stuff. There isn’t really much hiding from a femme once she has you on her radar. That’s fine because once a butch has you on his radar, you’re either going to give in or have to run. He isn’t going to give up. Most butches will admit that the thrill of the chase is half the fun.

As the hour grew late and things were winding down, I decided that it was time to make a move. I approached their table and had my keys in my hand. “Are you girls going to go out and get some breakfast? It’s sort of tradition for most of the people at this bar to go hit the Perkins that’s open all night down the street.”

They all looked at each other. April looked at her friends hopefully. One said yes that she was definitely hungry. The other was whining about being tired and having to work tomorrow.

“Did you all ride together?”, I inquired of the trio of girls who were as indecisive now as any group of teenage girls possibly could be.

“Yes,” came the collective reply. April continued, “Sue drove.” She nodded her head towards the grumpy one who wanted to go home. Then she looked at me and said, “I’d go to breakfast with you if you could give me a ride?”

Her friends looked at her as if she had a spider crawling out of her ear. Of course, the grumpy one had to say something. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, April. You don’t even know her.”

“Well, that’s true. I’d be happy to give you my phone number so that if she goes missing, you’ll know where to send the cops,” was my flip reply to her accusatory tone.

April laughed, “I’m sure that I’ll be fine, Sue. Don’t worry.” The whole time, she was looking right in my eyes.

April gathered her things and gave her friends a hug. We all walked into the parking lot together and I was very clear about which car was mine. I figured that maybe if they knew my car and had every chance to take down my tag number that they’d feel more comfortable.

Once her friends were in their car, April and I walked on towards my mustang. I opened the door for her and then walked around to get in on my side. She reached over and opened the door for me, which struck me as cute. “Thank-you,” I smiled over at her and quite suddenly just decided to give her a peck on the cheek. April, however, decided to turn and take it on the lips. It really is true what they say about the quiet ones. She had her tongue in my mouth in 1.2 seconds. I wasn’t complaining.

“I don’t want to go to breakfast,” she blurted out. “I want you to take me to your place.” Before I could respond, she was kissing me again. No, I certainly wasn’t complaining and I surely wasn’t going to say no.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

I put the key in the ignition and fired-up the engine. I reached over and took her hand as I backed out of the parking space and headed the car towards my place. She played with my hand, stroking it and kissing it. At one point she was sucking on my fingers and it was all I could do to keep driving and not pull over and hike her skirt up in a parking lot somewhere.

When we finally got back to my apartment and parked the car, I looked over at her and said, “How often do you do this?”

April’s face looked a little embarrassed. “Never.”

“Are you serious? Why now?”, I couldn’t help but be curious.

“I’ve always been attracted to butch women but I’ve never been with one. I want to. Know what else I want?”

“What?”

She took my hand again, “I want you to put your hand inside of me.”

Now my blood began to beat through my body with the force of an oil rig. My heart skipped at least two beats and my blood pressure must have climbed to the point of nearing a stroke. “Holy crap, April. You just put it all out there huh?” I was laughing though, I couldn’t help it.

“It’s a fantasy I’ve had for a long time. When we started talking tonight I knew that I was very attracted to you. I feel like I can trust you and I want you to show me what it’s all about.”

I leaned towards her and kissed her, slowly and deeply before responding. “So you want me to fuck your brains out is what you’re saying, right?”

“Yes! Please!”, she was smiling at me as if she was feeling triumphant.

“Well, you’re an adult, I’m an adult … I do NOT have a problem with that at all.”

With that, I hopped out of the car before anyone could change their mind. I walked around to her side to hold the door and help her out. I took her by the hand and led her to the stairs and motioned for her to move ahead. I was right behind her, watching her ass sway all the way up the staircase. I’m quite certain that she was giving a little ‘extra’ swing to her hips just for my benefit.

When we arrived at my door, I put the key into the lock and swung the door open. It was dark inside and I reached in and flipped the light switch. Then I stood back for her to enter. As I stepped inside behind her, I shut the door and then turned to face her. I pushed her back against the door with my body against hers. In an instant, I was kissing her, devouring her as she stood there against my door. I could hear her moaning. The reverberations of her moans against my tongue inside her mouth was the sweetest of seductions. It made me think of other places my tongue could be. I wanted to taste all of her and I wanted her now.

My fingers slid slowly up her thigh and up underneath her dress. I could feel her laced panties underneath the panty hose that she was wearing. Without saying a word to her I leaned back and looked into her face, took her by the hand and led her to my bedroom. As we walked to the edge of the bed, I turned her around and reach around her, from behind and cupped her breasts in my hands, as I kissed her neck. I could feel her nipples growing hard under my fingers. I ached to feel them in my mouth.

Spinning her around, my lips met hers again with a hunger. Passionately, we kissed for several moments as my hands again reached to pull her skirt up. I could feel her step sideways and spread her legs to accommodate my fingers between her legs.

She groaned as I touched her clit underneath the layers of her clothing. Firmly, I pushed her back onto the bed. I loosened my tie as I stood over the top of her. Slowly I loosened the knot and pulled the tie up and over my head. Stepping forward, I straddled her on the bed. As I looked into her eyes, I simply said, “Give me your hands.” She quietly complied. I felt her body give a slight jolt and I knew that she was utterly turned-on beyond turning back. I slipped the tie over her hands to her wrists and slipped it snug. Then I took the loose end of the tie and pulled it over her head, tying it to the bedpost. With her hands secured over her head, she was completely at my mercy.

I moved to unzip her dress and guide it down over her shoulders. Slowly and with great care, I pulled the dress down to her stomach. Here I stopped because I could resist no longer. Leaning forward, I took her left breast in my mouth and sucked her hard and long. She moaned softly at first. The harder I sucked the louder she became. Her utterances were turning me on and making me absolutely insane. I wanted her body and I wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t walk a step tomorrow without thinking of me.

Slowly, I slid down the length of her body, kissing and teasing her salty skin with my tongue, until I reached the floor on my knees. Her dress was around her midsection, in a bunch. In front of me now were her legs, still covered in panty hose. As I leaned forward, she spread her legs wide for me, wanting me to touch her. I kissed her square between the legs. I could smell her body and her excitement. I knew she was wet, I didn’t need to touch her to know. Her thighs were quivering now. With very soft kisses, I touched her inner thighs and I gently nibbled a tiny hole in the hose that stood between me and the treasure between her legs.

I gently crept my fingers into the hole in her hose and with no warning to her, I suddenly ripped them from her with all my strength. Shredded fabric hung from her waist. I was taken over with desire now and I yanked the material from each leg and tied it around each ankle, which I then secured to the bottom corners of the bed after pulling her panties off. She couldn’t move now at all, other than some wiggle room.

For a moment, I just took her in. She truly had a magnificent body and her pussy was beautiful to me. She was neatly trimmed and shaved but not smooth. I let my fingers play in her hair and teased her with my touch. I kissed her hair before allowing my tongue to slide south and touch her clit softly.

She cried out, “Oh God…yes!” I heard the headboard creak as she pulled against it with her arms. With her cry, I wanted to eat her alive and I buried my face between her legs and licked her like I wouldn’t live to see tomorrow.

Her hips bucked and lifted to try to ride my tongue, as it danced up and down, back and forth. My lips locked around her clit and sucked her into my mouth, as my tongue continued to lick her furiously. Glancing up at her, I could see her nipples were hard as rocks and I moved my hands up to reach for them. Rolling her nipples in my fingers I continued to lick her. She screamed now. I could feel her body convulsing with spasms that were rocking her from the inside out. I continued to lick her as she came until she was squirming and trying to move away from me. Still, I continued to lick until I finally let my tongue become still. I held her clit in my mouth with no movement until her breathing became less rapid.

“Oh my God…please, I can’t breathe…”, I could hear her moaning. Very softly and gingerly I flicked my tongue at her clit. Her entire body jumped. I giggled; I couldn’t help it. Right now, at this very moment, I owned her body and I could do whatever I wanted with it. All I wanted to do was bring her the most intense physical pleasure that she’d ever felt in her life. It was my life’s mission, at this very moment. I wanted her cum the way men want gold or money.

I leaned to the bedside table and pulled the drawer open. Inside was lube and a vibrator. I pulled them both out. She could see what I was doing but still couldn’t move. She lifted her head and watched for a moment. She let out an anxious moan and threw her head back, giving me complete control.

I held the lube over her pussy and squirted it, letting it drip down over. It was cold and she let out a gasp. To keep it from running off and onto the floor, I caught it with my hand and rubbed her pussy up and down with my flat hand, spreading the lube. I turned the vibrator on and I felt her thighs tremble in anticipation. I could hear her softly draw in her breath. Slowly, I inserted the vibrator into her, only penetrating an inch or so. I wanted to stimulate her vaginal opening and relax her body. I could see her open for me. Leaning forward I gave her clit a few quick licks before I plunged the vibrator into her as deep as it would reach.

Again, she shrieked but this time it was no words. The sounds that came from her were the sounds a woman makes when she is in absolute heaven and her body is completely on fire. Her nipples were hard enough to cut glass, her pussy so wet that it was dripping. She was ready.

Leaning back so I could see what I was doing and watch her face at the same time, I pulled the vibrator out and I slipped two fingers inside of her. She knew what I was doing now and she murmured a very soft, “Yes.”

I let my fingers explore inside her body. There is nothing in the world that compares to the soft, fleshy heat of a woman’s pussy when she is swollen with desire. Her body conforms to wrap around your fingers, hugging them and begging them to fuck her at the same time.

My fingers twisted and moved to touch her g-spot. I pushed against and touched the vibrator to the side of her clit. I didn’t want her to cum, but I wanted her to hover at the edge as long as was possible.

I pulled the vibrator away and added a finger inside of her. I fucked her now, with my hand and her hips rose and fell to meet my strokes. She was moaning and crying out loud now. Over and over she screamed, “Yes…oh God…YES! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

Slowly, I folded my thumb into my palm and curled my hand as much as I could. Reaching for the lube, I squirted it onto my hand and wrist. Slowly, very, very slowly I applied pressure and entered her with my entire hand up to my knuckles. This was the critical part, the widest part of my hand and I knew if I was not careful that I could hurt her. I flipped on the vibrator with my other hand and touched it to her clit. Her pelvis thrust forward in pleasure and I took the split-second to move my hand forward be pulling my fingers into my palm and making a fist. The movement involves a twist and thrust, simultaneously. I was inside of her completely now.

“OH FUCK!”, she shrieked but not the shriek of pain. “It’s SO intense,” she moaned as her head tossed from side to side. I gave her body a few moments to get used to the sensation of being completely filled. There was no room to move inside of her, all I could do was flex my fist tighter and then release. It gave her a pulsating sensation. As I did this I leaned forward and licked her clit. My hand was beginning to go numb as her body began to tense and tighten. Her orgasm was going to be enormous, I could tell. I felt the shudder coming from deep inside her and I groaned as I continued to lick her. I had just cum all over myself.

Three of my fingers had gone completely numb from the tightness of her pussy and her muscles contracting around me so tight. I could feel it now, she was cumming. It started like a wave inside of her and as it hit the crest, she cried out, “Shit! Oh my God, I’m cumming!” Within seconds, her contraction was so hard that she came like a freight train, pushing my hand out of her body with such force that if it hadn’t been connected to my arm it probably would’ve hit the wall behind me.

Her body went limp. She was totally spent. Gently, I untied the restraints on her legs and removed my tie from her wrists. I settled-in next to her and she whimpered softly and moved against me as tightly as she could squeeze herself into my shoulder. I kissed her forehead and gently rocked her as she slowly came down from her high.

“Oh MY God, that was the most intense thing I have ever experienced in my whole life!” She gulped and sighed.

“Was it what you expected?”, I grinned at her.

“No. It was definitely not anything I could have ever imagined in a million years,” she started to laugh because her body was still shaking from the intensity of her orgasm. Her voice was cracking and she was almost stuttering, as if she’d lost all control of her body at this point. She continued to laugh as she looked at me and asked, “So … was this what you were expecting when you went to the bar tonight?”

“Nope, not anything I could have ever imagined in a million years,” I snuggled-up next to her and closed my eyes as I laughed. We both grew quiet and still, bringing the night to an end and giving way to our dreams of the night. 

The cover of “Butch Sexology”

 

 

 

Recently, I received an email from Book Tango informing me that they were dropping my book because it was pornographic because I used obscene language. Ummmm…okay? Personally, I think they banned it because it was Butch/Femme erotica and this is something that the world doesn’t approve of. In all honesty, it is even looked down on in many lesbian circles. We butches take a lot of flack all the way around.

Here’s a copy of the letter I was sent.

 

Book Tango to me:

Thank you for resubmitting your project with us. This title went live on May 29, 2012 and was resubmitted on July 13, 2012. All materials submitted whether it is a new or existing project should be evaluated for acceptability and workability. Upon further evaluation, we found out that this book contains obscene language and explicit sexual content, something that we overlooked during the first submission. With this regard, we would like to inform you that we cannot continue the publication of this title as this was flagged as pornographic material. Booktango does cater to erotic genres but erotica is completely different from pornography.

Please understand as a privately owned, self-publishing company we set certain limits on content, and make every attempt to keep our limits fair and equal across the board for all of our authors.

Sincerely,

Judy Lewis
Customer Service Representative

1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
customersupport@booktango.com

 

My response to this? Thanks, Book Tango. My sales have soared because now everyone wants to know why it got banned. How BAD is it? Well, it isn’t nearly as bad as the sequel is going to be next month!

The Prologue to my next book, “Butch Sexology II – The REALLY Naughty Stuff”

 

A Note To The Femmes Out There

Psst….. Come here, I want to tell you something. Shhh….keep it quiet. There is no one here now, except for you and I. No one knows that I am speaking just to you. I’m whispering this to you so that we can keep it just between us, from a butch to a femme.

I’m about to share things with you that you may find surprising, possibly shocking and most definitely will be a turn-on. Of all the women that I talk to, I always hear the same thing from femmes, ‘what goes through your minds when you think about us and make love to us?’

Yes, such are the things that femmes want to know and so I am going to tell you. We’ll keep this just between us though, okay? This will be ‘our’ little secret, just from me to you.

Come cuddle close to me, so that I can whisper in your ear. I don’t want the whole world to know my secrets, only you. Let me put my arm around you and lean close, so that you can feel my breath against your cheek. Smell my cologne in the air and feel it ignite your natural curiosities. Close your eyes and imagine that my arm is around your shoulder now, with my hand resting close to your breast.

I will tell you my stories, slowly and passionately. You’ll almost be able to hear my chest pounding in those ‘climactic moments’. You may even hear yourself gasp or sigh. You’ll find yourself longing for more and slipping into a state of arousal that brings you so close to sexual climax that you must … no you shouldn’t …. oh yes, but you will. Go ahead, reach between your legs, it’s okay. Slip your fingers inside your panties and see what I’ve already done to you.

I am a butch and these are my stories.

 

 

 

The Butch Femme Dance

She washes over me, like the warm summer rains,

Her scent, her touch, the taste of her that drives me insane.

Her soft skin a blanket that she wraps around me,

The way she moans in whispers can drive me crazy.

Her body begs me to touch her, kiss and just explore,

She moves against me, silently begging me for more.

 

 

I can feel her trembling as I softly kiss between her knees

The groans I hear her uttering, “yes, take me, please.”

I can smell her excitement and gently insert my finger,

As she draws in her breath, for a moment there I will linger.

The warm softness insider her, so wet and oh so very hot,

Makes me long to please her and give her all that I’ve got.

 

 

With my lips I take her softly and she loudly calls my name,

I’m in another world now, for which I feel no shame.

Her body is now my playground bringing me so much joy,

She groans loudly in her pleasure, that I am hers; her baby boi,

Soul to soul we have a passion that most won’t understand,

Unless you’ve danced the dance, then you would know first hand.

Cory was the victim of hate recently. He has no medical insurance. Click his photo to see how you can help and read more about his personal story.

I am working on a new book to document hate crimes committed against gays and lesbians. Initially, I was only going to cover lesbians, particularly butch lesbians. I’ve revisited this, having taken a hard look at the way gay men have been abused and victimized by society.

The GLBTQ community has enough division. I felt that including everyone in this book would serve them all the same justice and dignity. My goal is to give a voice to the victims so that they may move on to becoming survivors. This story is just one of thousands and thousands of sickening acts perpetrated against a class of people, just because they are who they are.

 In actuality, this is no different from the lynchings and burning crosses that happened when African-Americans were seeking to have equal rights in this country as well. The time has come for America to move on and accept that change is coming. We are not going to take these vicious acts lying down anymore.

Here is one story from an interview that I’ve done. Her name has been changed for obvious reasons.

She was only 29 years old. She identified as butch, wore her hair short and had never been with a man in her life. Going to a Christmas party one night would change her life forever.

Tamara” was from out-of-town. Her friend, a straight male, had invited her to attend a Christmas party that his workplace was throwing for the holidays. Like most Christmas parties, there was dancing, laughter and a little bit of alcohol involved.

Most women know that men can become overly flirtatious when they drink too much. On this night, two young men were flirting with Tamara quite a bit. “At first I didn’t think much of it…I even danced with them”, she recalls. As the evening wore on, their advances become more and more inappropriate.

They started talking about a threesome and trying to get me interested in that with them. I didn’t really know what else to do, so I finally told them that I was a lesbian”, Tamara’s voice trails off momentarily. Obviously the memories are filling her mind and she’s trying to control her voice.

With a deep breath she goes on to explain that the two men went on about their partying and left her alone after that. “I really didn’t give them another thought”, she states.

At midnight, Tamara left the party to walk to where she was staying. She only needed to go just a short distance down the road and imagined it would only take ten minutes to get there. She hadn’t taken into account that it had been snowing and the snow made some spots impassable. Tamara found herself walking on the next street over.

Not being all that familiar with New Jersey, she came to an area of warehouses that probably would not have been anyone’s choice to be walking past at such an hour. “I saw headlights from a car coming up the road behind me. I didn’t think anything of it, but I noticed that they weren’t passing me. Then I heard the car stop and I heard footsteps. I pretty much knew what was happening.”

The two men from the party had followed her by car. The more aggressive of the two men came around in front of her and stopped her. “He called me a ‘fucking dyke’ and said ‘what are you too good to sleep with me?’” I can hear her voice begin to break as she continues telling me her story and my heart is heavy, for I know what is coming. I almost want to spare her. It seems too much.

I said ‘please, let me walk by’ and as I tried to keep walking, he punched me in the face.” It was then that she fell backwards into the snow and the second man then knelt down and pinned her arms and shoulders to the ground.

The first man ripped open the button-down shirt that she was wearing, sending buttons flying. As he did so she recalls that he said, “Ya’ shoulda’ just said yes.” He then removed her pants and her shirt, all this while she is on the freezing, snow-covered ground. He pulled the boxer shorts that she was wearing off, but he chose to pull a knife from his pocket and cut away the sports bra that she was wearing.

It was then that he forced himself onto her, carrying out his act as she tried to pretend that it wasn’t happening to her. He was rough and violent, seeming to intentionally be inflicting as much pain upon her as he could. As he ‘finished’ he moved to switch places with the other man, but before they switched, he punched her in the face again, viciously. His intent was to make her as senseless and helpless as possible. There would be no running or escape.

As the second man now began raping her, the more aggressive man with the knife was hovering over her face telling her, “If you scream, you’re gonna die.”

Tamara’s voice is changing and it is obvious that this is very difficult for her. Quietly she states almost matter of factly, “You know, when they switched places and he got off me, I could actually smell blood. I knew I was bleeding.”

When the second assailant had finished, she was punched in the face for the third time. “They took my clothes and left me in the bloody snow. I stayed there until I was found about 7 to 7 ½ hours later”, she is telling the story now as if she is outside of it, looking in. “A warehouse owner found me the next morning and called an ambulance. He thought I was dead at first, because I was actually blue. I was laying in a patch of red, blood-covered snow. When he walked to me, he bent and touched my shoulder and I flinched. He immediately took his coat off and covered me while he called an ambulance.”

Tamara then recalls that, “He was a nice, older man. He even came to visit me in the hospital.” She goes on to tell me that she spent one month in the hospital recovering from her wounds. She had a broken nose, a fractured jaw, three cracked ribs and so much internal damage that she had to have internal stitches. She also had second degree frostbite that she was treated for as well. 

I was amazed at the horribly long time in the hospital and she made it clear that, “I was scared to leave”. She goes on, “I couldn’t have any male doctors or nurses. I would start screaming. It was a long time before I could even be around a man at all, even out in public. I’d shake, sweat and even throw-up.”

This is not even close to the end of Tamara’s story. While in the hospital, the rape kit also confirmed that she was pregnant on top of everything else. “I carried the baby full-term but had to have a c-section because of all the vaginal tearing. I couldn’t have a normal delivery.”

She put the child up for adoption. He was adopted in an open adoption and now has two lesbian parents. “I chose the parents. I get pictures every six months and a letter.” Tamara sees him and he knows who she is, referring to her as his “Tummy Mommy”.

I asked her what I though would be a difficult question, “Is it hard for you to look at him?”

No!” she shot right back, “He looks just like me. He’s a clone. When I look at him, I see me. Besides, it isn’t his fault what happened. I do not see anybody else but me.” My respect for her has grown immensely by this point, as I wonder if I’d be able to handle myself as well in this same situation.

I pushed a little further and said, “And if he hadn’t looked like you?”

I’d love him just the same! It wasn’t HIS fault.”, she says with absolute certainty in her voice. Yes, my respect for her is great.

The two men, thanks to surveillance cameras at the warehouses, were caught and prosecuted. Each man received a 30 year sentence because the entire act was caught on video and the knife was used to charge them with attempted murder. The charges were aggravated rape and attempted first degree murder. Because of Tamara’s own painful testimony of the party happenings, it was found that what they did was also premeditated.

The men are eligible for parole in 10 years. They have already served 3 years. To me, this seems like a drop in the bucket for what these animals did to her. I cannot help but ask her, “Are you okay with that? I mean…how does that make you feel?”

Once again, she shows me what true human dignity is about and responds, “I think they got a fair sentence. I’m a practicing Buddhist and by forgiving them I am taking the power away from them. I realize that holding on to the pain and hate would only hurt me more.”

To make her story even more touching, she’s only told 3 people this story. Her own family doesn’t know that this happened to her. She has never received any therapy for the incident and even, in fact, thanked me for letting her tell her secret. “It feels better, like a weight is coming off of me.”

Tamara – you know who you really are – you are a class act. I am in awe of your ability to heal and continue forward with your life. I’m inspired at your ability to forgive. Thank you for allowing me to tell your story.

This was an interview done for an upcoming book by author Jesse MacGregor-Jones. Names have been changed to protect the privacy of the victim. I am still seeking more stories and interviews with people who have been victims of hate crimes. Please, contact me at one of the sources below. Thanks for reading and sharing this important message about hate.

Twitter – JesseMacGregorJones@MyButchWorld   FaceBook – www.facebook.com/jessemacgregorjones

Fan Page – www.facebook.com/MyButchWorld

Bibliography – Twisted: Flashbacks, Butch Sexology – Tales From the Erotic Zone