Queermance Anthology, Volume 1 (5 page)

Before Adam could take a breath to bitch some more, I inserted the pointed tip of my tongue into
the slightly furled skin of his foreskin until I touched the slick skin nestled within.

'Oh god,' Ad groaned. 'If you stop now, Cullen, I'll fuckin' kill you.'

Tentatively, I sucked the head of Adam's cock into my mouth. The taste was a mix of spice and
salt. Hmmm. I chased the flavour by rolling my tongue around and in and under and over the
foreskin.

Adam reached down and started stroking the lower part of his cock while I sucked its head. As he
pulled the skin taut, the head of his cock emerged from the foreskin, allowing my tongue to explore
the leaking slit.

Adam's pace increased as his litany of sex sounds started to deteriorate into
Ohs
and
Unghs
. I tried to match his rhythm but kept getting my nose punched by Adam's knuckles as he
fisted his cock ever faster. After a particularly violent blow brought tears to my eyes, I pulled
off, stilling Adams's frantic motions by grabbing his wrist.

Adam responded with a high-pitched whimper and tried to take his cock in his hand again.

'Jesus, Ad! Keep your hands OFF! Fuck me, I never thought sex would be this fucking
complicated!'

Before his questing hands could get in the way again, I took over the pumping while I lowered my
mouth to engulf the now weeping tip of his cock. Within seconds, Adam's thighs tightened. His cock
stiffened then pulsed as the first shot of cum surged into my mouth. My attempt to swallow and suck
and squeeze and jack all at the same time caused the next shot of cum to fire into my sinuses.
Pulling off, I valiantly tried to finish Adam off, snorting cum out my nose at the same time. What
was I supposed to do with the mouthful that sat on my tongue like a pre-chewed oyster? In the end, I
decided I'd either have to swallow or start breathing through my ears. I tried not to notice the
texture or taste as my throat worked convulsively in an attempt to expel what I'd just swallowed. I
shuddered spasmodically. Christ! I wasn't sure I'd ever grow to like
that
taste.

Adam grabbed my wrist to still my hand, pulling me away from his now probably too-sensitive cock.
His gentle tug encouraged me to crawl up his body until I was crouched on my hands and knees above
him.

He looked down between us. I could feel my painfully hard erection dripping onto the bed.
Stretching down, Adam cradled my balls in his palm, giving them gentle squeezes until, with a silent
cry, I came. Adam's gaze flickered between my erupting cock and my face.

Once he'd reduced me to a quivering, sated mess, Adam leaned up and, with a hand behind my neck,
pulled me down into a kiss. 'Don't go, Ed,' he murmured as he plucked at my lips with his.

I stared at him from sex-blurred eyes. Meeting his gaze, I tried work out how he truly felt.
Instead of love-filled doe-eyes like those I'd seen on Heather, I saw twinkling merriment.

'You suck at sucking, mate. You need practice to perfect your technique, and I'm going to be
generous enough to allow you to practise on me.'

What more could one say but, 'Give me a sec to catch my breath and I'll get right to it, Ad.'

Adam's laugh rocked the bed as I eased down beside him.

I sighed in contentment as I pulled Adam into my arms. Yeah, we sucked at the whole sex thing so
far, but at least we were getting a chance to get it right.

It's too early to be awake, goddamnit. Should have gotten proper-drunk last night
and sent some embarrassing texts to my ex instead. Would've been better than letting Simon drag me
around all night, trying to help me 'move on' while he stuck his tongue down the throat of every boy
he could find.

He is a terrible best friend. He won't let me wallow. He has to go.

I can't remember the girl's name, I realise. Not that I really care, but it'd be nice to avoid
some embarrassment.

Groaning, I pull the doona over my head and try and trick myself into falling asleep again.
That's when I realise: she's not here. The cat's in her warm space instead. Thank Christ.

Simon barges into the room. 'Rise and shine, Lucy in the sky! Your guest is waiting for you.' He
prods my foot. 'I made her breakfast.'

'Fuck off.' My voice is muted by the covers. 'It's the morning, Simon. The morning is not for
talking. It's for sitting in the dark, drinking disgusting coffee and regretting one's choices.'

I poke my head out of the covers to look at his disgustingly cheery face. 'Why'd you take me out
last night? Now I have to talk to her.'

'I just thought you could take a break from seeing Rosie Palms every night.'

'Rosie Pa - oh.' I stick my middle finger up at him, the asshole. 'As if you can talk. I hear you
every night, wanking your tits off. You have scarred me for life.'

'I have-'

'For life!'

He clears his throat. 'I have found you a wife, Lucy Rojas, and this is how you repay me.'

'Wife!' I shriek. 'You're worse than my mother. Get out!'

I get up, thankfully not naked, and push him out the door. He whispers me the girl's name as I
almost trip over my cat who obviously heard the word breakfast. Simon gives me a shit-eating grin as
I slam the door in his face. Next time the door's gonna hit his stupid big nose.

The cleanest clothes I can find are shorts and a blank t shirt, I pull them on and go out to the
kitchen. And of course, Simon isn't there. Just 'Emily' - sitting there, spreading avocado onto
her toast. I stare at her from the doorway and she stares back.

'Hi,' I say eventually.

'Your housemate said he had to go to work,' she says.

'Course he fuckin' did,' I mutter as I take a seat at the table. I grab some toast from the
middle of the table - Simon's put out quite a spread - and dump beans, bacon, mushrooms on
it. I bite down and acknowledge that my housemate isn't all bad: he makes good food and is probably
the reason I don't live off packet noodles.

'You want me to leave, don't you?' she says. She puts her elbows on the table, leans towards me.
She's got an odd kind of smile, half crooked, eyes scrunched up. I search her face, trying to figure
out what that smile means, but come up blank.

'Can you read minds?' I ask, then shovel some food into my face.

'Unfortunately, no.'

'Psychologist?' I dated a psych student once. She'd always tried to read my body language, but
she was pretty terrible at it.

Emily shakes her head as she leans back in her seat. 'But you are.'

I stare at her. 'Not technically,' I say, putting down my cutlery. 'Studying.'

Actually, let's be honest, I've slept with a
lot
of pysch students. 'How did
you-?'

'The books in your room.'

She's good
, I think.

'And you told me last night.' She grins.

'Oh.'

Maybe I should keep this girl around. For a little while, at least. I try and think of something
to say, but my mind trips over itself and every time I think of something, I know it's not clever
enough to impress her.

'I don't know your surname,' I say. It doesn't bother me at all; I've fucked plenty of girls
without knowing their first names let alone their last.

'Lin.'

I used to try and tell myself that I couldn't be that shallow, but I really am. I like pretty
girls. Emily isn't necessarily pretty, though, there's something different that makes me want to
reach out and touch her, make sure she's real. The way she rests her elbow on the very edge of the
table, or the way one of her eyebrows is almost permanently half-raised, maybe.

I try not to cringe as I struggle to remember how conversation works. Emily's still looking at me
with that smile of hers and goddamnit, I'm going to ask her to leave because I've had enough of
girls.

'Do you want a shower or something?' I say instead.

So she's in the shower when I decide I can't be in the house anymore. Why did I let her in the
bathroom? Fucking Christ. I make sure I've got everything - wallet, keys, phone - and knock
on the door.

'I have to go, sorry!' I yell at her through the door and there's a reply, but I can't hear her
over the shower.

I run out of the house, feeling ridiculous and sixteen years old. By the time I get home, she's
gone. It'd be weird if she was still here, but I kinda wish she was. Then I frown and Simon comes
in, sees me and grins.

'I am so not talking to you,' I tell him.

'Fair enough,' he pouts. 'Though, I would've killed
you
.'

'I haven't decided not to, yet. You're on thin ice, boyo.' I shrug off my jacket, ignore the
dishes in the sink, make myself a coffee and settle into bed to watch a movie on my laptop.

I shouldn't have left, I tell myself as I swill the dregs of the coffee around. It was probably a
shitty thing to do.

When I finally shut my laptop, the only light in my room comes from the streetlamp outside. I
hear a tram rattle off and I get under the sheets, sigh into the pillow and run my hands up the
mattress. My fingers close on a piece of paper under the pillow and I pull out a note. I turn my
lamp on to read it: there's a name and number in small, loopy writing.

By the third date, I've decided I could very well be in love with this girl some
day. She's smart and her tongue is quicker than anything. She's an English major, no idea what she's
going to do and she doesn't give a fuck. And you'd think she'd be loud, but she's quiet, subtle.
She's gotten under my skin and she's hooked me; I know she has because I haven't run away yet even
though I want to.

'Here you are, girls,' the waiter says as he brings over our coffees. I see her face crunch but
she doesn't say anything until after he leaves.

'Fucking Christ,' she spits out quietly, stirring a sugar packet into her latte. 'Girls. Do we
look twelve?'

I nod, want her to keep talking. She's gearing up for a rant, I hope.

'And I'm not even a girl, asshole.' When she looks at me, there's an openness there. Her breath
comes quick and her hands flutter as she speaks.

'I'm genderqueer,' she tells me. The words spill out onto the table. 'Do you know what that
means?' Her muscles have stopped, she's only a pair of lungs, accelerating.

I remember my Google searches when I first saw the term on the internet: 'Not subscribing to the
gender binary'. I nod and smile, because she looks nervous. 'Yeah.'

'I don't mind what pronouns,' she says. 'I mostly use female, anyway.'

And then she starts to relax when I don't bother her with questions. We skip to opinions on TV
shows and she's loose again, laughing.

'You have a third nipple,' Emily says as we're sitting on the couch. She's got her
hand up my shirt, her fingers tracing around something.

'That's a freckle,' I tell her.

She shakes her head and lifts up my top, pointing to it. 'That's a third nipple.'

'Whaaaat.'

It's brown, like the other freckles on my torso. This one's a little raised, and it's kind got
these grooves on it-

'Holy shit, it is!'

'Yeah,' she nods, and keeps watching the TV. She's completely unperturbed by the fact that she's
just changed my life forever. 'One of my old boyfriends had one, too,' she adds.

'Oh my god,' I say, prodding it. 'Third nipple.'

Emily yawns, showing her teeth, and closes her eyes. Her hair falls, covering most of her face
but I see her smile. 'You thought it would be freakier, didn't you?'

'Yeah. The words sound weird together. Third. Nipple. Weird.'

'But not really.' She kisses my cheek, and something shifts in her and she's nuzzling at my neck,
feeling for my pulse with her tongue.

She puts her hand on mine and she kisses me, hard, but not fierce. She's not a fierce person.
She's strong, but quietly. People underestimate her, but she can cut them down with a word. She
whispers something in my ear, in Mandarin, and I don't understand but she grips the back of my neck
before making her way into my skirt. I part my legs and draw her in with my arms, feel her pulse
beat through her body.

Her dress rides up as she moves on top of me. I kiss her neck and up her jaw, feeling her pulse
quicken, getting harder. She finds her way into my underwear and grins when she finds me. Fingertip
slowly tracing. She's slow, soft.

I won't be outdone, though, and the grin plastered on her face makes me unzip the back of her
dress, to find her skin supple and warm.

She lets me go and raises her arms so I can pull of her dress as she giggles. I throw it to the
floor. She's not wearing a bra.

I bring my lips to her jaw, her collarbone, and her back arches and brings her closer. Her back
muscles move under my fingers. She's got her fingers on the back of my top, and I comply.

She takes me in, like she's never seen me before, and I take the moment to get her nipple in my
mouth. She giggles and puts a hand on the back of my head, her fingers running through my hair.
Should have kept it longer, given her something to grab onto.

'Lucy,' she says, and there's a smile in her voice.

I find her cunt and trace her clit in circles.

And then she says something too quiet for me to catch, but I feel her hot breath against my
cheek.

She grips my hair tighter as I slide a finger in, she moans my name. She's seeing colour
everywhere, it's pouring from her lips. Her hips start back and forth and I give her another finger,
thumb rubbing circles.

We move together and her breath gets harder across my cheek, my neck, my chest. She makes to take
off my bra but then I pick up the pace, and her breath hitches, changes; and she's swearing.

Then she puts both hands on my head, our eyes are locked and she kisses me hard, her breath
pouring into my mouth and filling my lungs. I don't look away from her and she doesn't blink. She
grips my hair tight, I feel strands break and then
Lucy
rips from her tongue and she's
slowing, laughing. My fingers slip from her and she kisses my neck.