Reaching Out from a Mind as Dirty as All Outdoors

If you get lucky enough, I might post adult-only material from time to time, so be 18 or over, or please be elsewhere.

I'll be discussing erotica here, the writing of it and the people who write it, as well as what we've written. I find all these aspects stimulating, but if any of them bore you, feel free to skim. You never know what you might miss, though.

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Tuesday, February 23, 2016

BLE Blog Tour for Frankie Grayson--"Mirror, Mirror"

BLE Blog Tour, by Frankie Grayson

“We are quick change artists, we girls.”
I first read that sentence, by Jeanette Winterson in her highly erotic story “The Poetics of Sex,” when I was a senior in college and falling in love. With? Everything important: my own writing, and the radically, wonderfully queer material in my gender studies classes that made me feel a kind of inner sigh, like one you might make when you’ve arrived home. I’d wanted to write for so long but worried I had nothing important to write about because I wrote about women, and the world I’d grown up in told me in so many ways that women weren’t important. Discovering writers like Winterson put a defiant, ecstatic buzz in my blood for the way their work insisted that identity, desire, and sex in every sense were worth exploring on the page.
I’m indulging in a little nostalgia because my story in the 20th Anniversary edition of Best Lesbian Erotica is my first published piece of erotica—and because it carries an echo of that sentence I fell for years ago. The narrator in my story “Mirror, Mirror” is challenged to face her own quick-changeability by a woman who is both her like and her opposite. I wanted to use mirrors, doubling, and reflections to playfully (but deadly seriously) venture the idea that when we’re beheld and held by another, we can slip and shift to meet them and so, find ourselves. I think that kind of discovery is one of the reasons that sex—hot sex, brave sex—is such a vital human experience, on the page and in our real-life sheets. It’s why I read erotica, and why I write it, and why I hope this is just the first of many times I’ll get to share a story I’ve told with readers.
Thanks for being my first.  

Dim, colored bulbs lit the passages we crept down. Jets of air burst from unseen vents, or the floor gave way to rollers, leaving us laughing and grabbing hands for balance. Rae’s laugh was like her voice: smoky, languid. Killer.
Then came the obligatory room of trick mirrors. In the first, we were all crazily stretched legs and even then, proportioned like a heron, Rae had my mouth watering. But I also noted what I had from the beginning, that she and I actually looked alike. Hair dark and jaw-length, hers curly, mine straight. Similar lines to our faces, same build and height.
Initially, it had felt almost weird to be attracted to her—would she diagnose me as a narcissist, if I were her patient? But the boil in my blood told me this wasn’t self-worship; I wanted to worship her, toes to tits to teeth. Rae was also prettier, no false modesty, and wore “our” features perfected. I was a jeans-and-tee-shirt girl. I liked boots. I’d throw on some brown eyeliner when I had to meet with a donor but mostly didn’t think about how I wanted to look. How I wanted to be.    
Rae, on the other hand, was stunning, all business hard-ass with a very feminine edge. Silky camisoles peeking from chic blazers, dangerously sharp pencil skirts with the attitude to match. That night she wore a tight sweater and even tighter jeans. Black kohl on her eyes and lips painted red as a candy apple. Or a poisoned one.
In our reflection, Rae watched me watching us. “You like mirrors?” she asked. Instantly I thought of how we’d look in some glassy surface, tangled—my head between her curvy thighs, the fall of her breasts as she leaned over me—and swallowed hard.
“Depends on what I’m looking at,” I said. We stepped to the next mirror to catch each other’s gaze, finish the volley of flirtation, and busted up when our eyes blinked back big as dinner plates.
“Come on,” she said, pulling me along by the hand. The walls of the next passage were all glass, and then we took a corner and were swallowed by mirrored angles. A maze.
We wove around turns and backed out of dead ends. Whichever way you looked, there you were, but different sides—in profile, the back of your own head. It was dizzying, seeing all of myself at once, and my heart beat faster. Or maybe that was just Rae, and the scent of her finally, finally right there.
We hit another end, and I turned to get out. But Rae just stopped, only inches between us, and then backed me up until my head softly tapped the glass. From every angle, I stared at myself over Rae’s shoulder, twelve of me, twenty. An infinity. And an infinity of Rae, facing me. My pulse going wild.
Watching me intently, Rae tipped her head. Considering something. Then she
said, “So when do you want to go out?”
“Um, Sunday?”
“Where’s your phone?”
I pulled it from my pocket, handed it to her. She whisked her fingers over its lucky face and gave it back. “You have my number.”
Then she leaned in. Her hair whispered over my cheek. Her lips pressed softly against the side of my neck, with that slight, maddening point of wet at the center that cooled instantly as she pulled away.
“So Sunday,” she said, and turned. I followed her. She seemed so sure of where she was going.
And she was. She led us directly out of the maze, the end of the fun house, and turned to wink at me just before she disappeared into the jostling crowd. It wasn’t until later, undressed, that I saw in my own bathroom mirror what my shirt collar had concealed: the perfect stain of her red lips on the side of my neck. Like I’d been marked.

Comment here or on any of the linked posts to be entered in a drawing for a free copy of Best Lesbian Erotica 20th Anniversary Edition.

Blog Tour Links

Feb 10
Sacchi Green-Introduction

Feb. 11
Rose de Fer-“Dust”

Feb. 12
Louise Blaydon-“Ascension”

Feb 13
MeganMc Ferren-“The Royalty Underground”

Feb. 14
Harper Bliss-“Reunion Tour”

Feb 15
D.L. King-“Hot Blood” 

Feb 16
Jean Roberta-“Tears from Heaven”

Feb  17
Sinclair Sexsmith-“Luscious and Wild”

Feb 18
R.G. Emanuelle-“Smorgasbord” 

Feb 19
Rose  P. Lethe-“A Professional”

Feb 20
Anna Watson-“Easy”  

Feb 21
Valerie Alexander-“Grind House”

Feb 22
Annabeth Leong-“Give and Take”

Feb 23
Frankie Grayson-“Mirror Mirror”

Feb 24
Cheyenne Blue-“The Road to Hell”

Feb 25
Emily L. Byrne-“The Further Adventures of Miss Scarlet”

Feb 26
Sossity Chiricuzio-“Make them Shine” 

Feb  27
Teresa Noelle Roberts-“Tomato Bondage”

1 comment:

  1. I love the complexity of this. Proof that the brain is the largest sex organ!