Fic: Lesbian Snippets
Dec. 10th, 1999 07:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rsadelleTitle: Physicality
Rating: FRT for suggestions of f/f interaction and affection.
Summary: An exercise in writing about my body from someone else's viewpoint.
Author's Note: This is actually two snippets, but they're related, so I put them together.
Word Count: 300 words
I love her body. I've always loved her body. She's all roundness and curves while I'm sharp angles and flat surfaces. She's confident, too. She knows she's beautiful, she believes it, even when other people refuse to see it. She fully admits to being a sexual woman. It scares me sometimes. I'm afraid she'll leave me. I wake up at night, terrified. She holds me then and leaning against her softness soothes me back to sleep.
We're opposites in other ways, too. She's a writer who cooks and hates to clean. I love sports, I don't mind cleaning, and I work in an office. Somebody once told me that that must be the reason we're together, that opposites attract. When I told her, she just laughed. "That's just a societal conception designed to reinforce gender differences as a way or reinforcing gender inequality. I hate to think we live up to that, being lesbians and all." She chuckled then, and pulled me into a wet, open-mouthed kiss.
***
We were lying in bed one Sunday afternoon. She had turned up the heat and closed the blinds and then had me lie naked on the bed with her, just to enjoy our time together. I could never keep my hands off of her. I always want to touch her. So I did. Just a gentle stroking of my hands over her body to reassure her and me.
"Your hands," she said as I ran my hands up her legs. "They're so strong, not like mine."
"I love your hands," I told her. "Your hands write the most beautiful stories I've ever read." I kissed the palm of her right hand. "Your hands make the most wonderful apple pie I've ever tasted." I kissed the palm of her left hand. "And your hands can make me scream like nothing else." I linked my fingers with hers and lowered my body onto hers. She kissed me seriously then and I let her show me just how wonderful her hands are.
********
The End.
********
Title: Want
Rating: FRT
Word Count: 300 words
She was everything I wanted and everything I wanted to be--intelligent, funny, talented--she could draw, write, and sing beautifully--stylish, and beautiful. And, God, was she ever beautiful. Some days she looked like the consummate businesswoman, some days like a mom, some days like a college student, and she was beautiful in all guises.
Of course, that's not what I thought when I first met her. Honestly, I didn't think much about her then. She wasn't around much and when she was, she didn't talk much, just an occasional hilarious remark made in that rich voice shaped by the accent of her home state. Later, though . . . Well, later, after I'd gotten to know her and had her whole concentration focused on a conversation with me, well, then all I wanted was to feel her hands settling on my skin. I wanted her to not just accept me, but to like me and approve of me. And so when I found some common ground, I reached for it and hung on with both hands. And I know I became a bit obsessive and clingy, but I couldn't let go because I wanted . . . I wanted everything but I would take whatever I could get. I made a point to talk to her whenever I could. I used to call and invite myself to join her and some of her other friends for dinner in the dining hall. She always sounded surprised when I called her. I don't know if she was surprised to get a phone call or surprised to get a phone call from me or if that was just her normal phone voice. Even today, when I think of her, it is as she was there in the dining hall, sitting to my left, chair pulled back from the table, laughing, and leaning toward me, just a little.
********
The End.
********
Rating: FRT for suggestions of f/f interaction and affection.
Summary: An exercise in writing about my body from someone else's viewpoint.
Author's Note: This is actually two snippets, but they're related, so I put them together.
Word Count: 300 words
I love her body. I've always loved her body. She's all roundness and curves while I'm sharp angles and flat surfaces. She's confident, too. She knows she's beautiful, she believes it, even when other people refuse to see it. She fully admits to being a sexual woman. It scares me sometimes. I'm afraid she'll leave me. I wake up at night, terrified. She holds me then and leaning against her softness soothes me back to sleep.
We're opposites in other ways, too. She's a writer who cooks and hates to clean. I love sports, I don't mind cleaning, and I work in an office. Somebody once told me that that must be the reason we're together, that opposites attract. When I told her, she just laughed. "That's just a societal conception designed to reinforce gender differences as a way or reinforcing gender inequality. I hate to think we live up to that, being lesbians and all." She chuckled then, and pulled me into a wet, open-mouthed kiss.
***
We were lying in bed one Sunday afternoon. She had turned up the heat and closed the blinds and then had me lie naked on the bed with her, just to enjoy our time together. I could never keep my hands off of her. I always want to touch her. So I did. Just a gentle stroking of my hands over her body to reassure her and me.
"Your hands," she said as I ran my hands up her legs. "They're so strong, not like mine."
"I love your hands," I told her. "Your hands write the most beautiful stories I've ever read." I kissed the palm of her right hand. "Your hands make the most wonderful apple pie I've ever tasted." I kissed the palm of her left hand. "And your hands can make me scream like nothing else." I linked my fingers with hers and lowered my body onto hers. She kissed me seriously then and I let her show me just how wonderful her hands are.
********
The End.
********
Title: Want
Rating: FRT
Word Count: 300 words
She was everything I wanted and everything I wanted to be--intelligent, funny, talented--she could draw, write, and sing beautifully--stylish, and beautiful. And, God, was she ever beautiful. Some days she looked like the consummate businesswoman, some days like a mom, some days like a college student, and she was beautiful in all guises.
Of course, that's not what I thought when I first met her. Honestly, I didn't think much about her then. She wasn't around much and when she was, she didn't talk much, just an occasional hilarious remark made in that rich voice shaped by the accent of her home state. Later, though . . . Well, later, after I'd gotten to know her and had her whole concentration focused on a conversation with me, well, then all I wanted was to feel her hands settling on my skin. I wanted her to not just accept me, but to like me and approve of me. And so when I found some common ground, I reached for it and hung on with both hands. And I know I became a bit obsessive and clingy, but I couldn't let go because I wanted . . . I wanted everything but I would take whatever I could get. I made a point to talk to her whenever I could. I used to call and invite myself to join her and some of her other friends for dinner in the dining hall. She always sounded surprised when I called her. I don't know if she was surprised to get a phone call or surprised to get a phone call from me or if that was just her normal phone voice. Even today, when I think of her, it is as she was there in the dining hall, sitting to my left, chair pulled back from the table, laughing, and leaning toward me, just a little.
********
The End.
********