I couldn’t say it.
I couldn’t even think of a word to use to describe it.
Strange how much I wanted this experience to be mine, to feel like I really accomplished everything I set out to do when I got this book. I wanted what the speaker had—her confidence, her warmth, her understanding.
Dejected, my shoulders sank. Now I was talking to myself—on top of actually trying to get something unthinkable done in my shared room.
Shaking my head, I relaxed my death-grip on the accessory to the crime. It was now or never—before my roommate came back from study hall. This was something I had to do on my own.
Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?
I wrinkled my nose and peered down at the open book in my other hand.
Gulping, I scrutinized the various illustrations that looked like many a Georgia O’Keefe painting. One of them had outer folds that echoed the inner folds, so much so that I thought of the ripples on a pond. To the right of that was one that had an opening shaped like an eye—which was way too psychedelic for me, considering the topic.
My eyes scrolled toward the one on the next page, which actually looked like a candle flame in a church. Its buddy on the right with its pointy crown looked like the headdress of one of those Buddhas you’d see at a Thai temple. Not to mention the one on the bottom left that had a prominent bulge (a head?) with a hood (the veil hanging off of the coif?) that made me think of the Virgin Mary cloaked in her habit. And then there was--
Crap. I couldn’t believe that I was mixing the holy with the …
I still couldn’t say it. Not even to myself.
So maybe I could use a negative? … the not so holy?
I couldn’t even think of a word to use to describe it.
Strange how much I wanted this experience to be mine, to feel like I really accomplished everything I set out to do when I got this book. I wanted what the speaker had—her confidence, her warmth, her understanding.
Dejected, my shoulders sank. Now I was talking to myself—on top of actually trying to get something unthinkable done in my shared room.
Shaking my head, I relaxed my death-grip on the accessory to the crime. It was now or never—before my roommate came back from study hall. This was something I had to do on my own.
Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?
I wrinkled my nose and peered down at the open book in my other hand.
Gulping, I scrutinized the various illustrations that looked like many a Georgia O’Keefe painting. One of them had outer folds that echoed the inner folds, so much so that I thought of the ripples on a pond. To the right of that was one that had an opening shaped like an eye—which was way too psychedelic for me, considering the topic.
My eyes scrolled toward the one on the next page, which actually looked like a candle flame in a church. Its buddy on the right with its pointy crown looked like the headdress of one of those Buddhas you’d see at a Thai temple. Not to mention the one on the bottom left that had a prominent bulge (a head?) with a hood (the veil hanging off of the coif?) that made me think of the Virgin Mary cloaked in her habit. And then there was--
Crap. I couldn’t believe that I was mixing the holy with the …
I still couldn’t say it. Not even to myself.
So maybe I could use a negative? … the not so holy?
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The above excerpt is from Bi Girls Do It Solo, which follow the adventures of a bisexual female college student getting to know her ... ahem.
Bi Girls Do It Solo is part of the Bi Girls Do It series of stories that follow a bisexual female charting her own well-rounded university education. If bisexual female leads are your cup of tea, you may also want to check out Purr Scent I: The Meeting, which is free on all retail sites. |
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Jacintha Topaz is the author of Purr Erotica Romance, devoted to FF, MM, LGBT, MFF Menage and More BDSM, kink, bondage, fetish, spanking, domination, submission, hot, sexy, erotic romance reads. When not writing, she can be found indulging in cashews and kefir and her secret love of armchair gardening.
Sign up for her newsletter for exclusive news and specials! http://eepurl.com/R9OfH |
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