Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch/Femme Erotica

Welcome back to the Fleshbot Book Club-your chance to get a sneak peek at some of the hottest erotic literature out now. Today's selection comes from Cleis Press's Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch/Femme Erotica, edited by Tristan Taormino.

The following excerpt is from "Sometimes She Lets Me" by Alison l. Smith.

Last night her back was sore, spasms from the past, a high school injury, and I said that I'd rub it and then we could just go to sleep, and when I finished she asked me to massage her ass and I said yes but I could not do without kissing it, licking that white moon. I ran my teeth along the arc of it, biting, and her ass started to move under me.

Then she rolled over and I pulled off her shirt and she let me touch them. They are secrets she holds separate from me, their roundness flattened against her chest all day. She does not like them, but I do. And sometimes, when she lets me, I fall between them and I breathe in. The tip of my nose measures their softness and the fine, white hair rises and she gets goose bumps.

I took one of them in my mouth last night and the dark snail of her nipple grew under my tongue. Her pelvis moved beneath me, moved up toward mine when she let me. The moon was gone and the river lights outside her window reflected like stars, as if the sky moved beneath us, and she lay on her back for me.

Her hip bones cut the air in thin circles and she tightened under me. She let me unbutton her boxer shorts. She let me take her in my mouth, press my face into her. I cupped her ass in my palms and she got hard for me. She dug her hands into my hair and shivered in the heat-soaked room and I watched her through the keyhole of her thighs.

Sometimes she lets me and when she does she talks to herself. In a low voice, she talks the fear away. Like last night when her ass was cupped in my hands and she was in my mouth and she whispered and her hips circled faster and her voice began to rise.

The dog woke, his pink tongue curling. He yawned. He circled once, twice, spread out beside us again and he watched his master's face change. He watched her call out to the ceiling, watched her back arch, watched her reach over her head, her fisted hands knocking the headboard until her long body tightened and her voice grew hoarse.

Then she begged me. She said Don't stop don't stop don't stop don't stop and she trembled under me and her hips pitched and I almost lost her and I pressed my hands into her ass to steady her until she came in my mouth.

Afterward, she pulled the covers up around her. She curled into their soft protection and rolled away from me. She hid. The dog burrowed under the comforter, panting into the darkness. After she let me and she fell asleep on her sore back, the sound of her voice stayed in my ears. I watched her as she kicked the covers off in the night's long heat. First her shoulders appeared, then her breasts, then the damp stain on her boxers where I had put my mouth. And I wanted to put my hands on her again, but I didn't. I just watched. The old radiator cracked and pinged in the corner and light from a streetlamp bled in through the tall window and she slept and I watched and she let me.

Excerpted from Sometimes She Lets Me: Best Butch/Femme Erotica edited by Tristan Taormino and published by Cleis Press.

The book is also on sale at Amazon.

Copyright (c) 2010 by Cleis Press.

If you're an author or a book publicist and you want to participate in the Fleshbot Book Club, send email to Lux Alptraum.