Early in her twenties, Shelby is content to merely live in her trial lawyer father's mansion and sponge off his credit cards. As a closeted lesbian, she loves sex toys and illicit, secretive relationships. All of that changes when her step mother enrolls her in a college and then leaves her in an apartment next to campus. From there, Shelby must go on a personal and sexual journey of self discovery to find out what sort of woman she actually is.
WARNING! This 48,000+ word story contains graphic and explicit description of lesbian sex between consenting adults. It is intended only for mature and adult readers.
Here is an excerpt:
Like usual, Betty's short story seemed to have been dressed up as a hetero romance with spicy descriptions, but there was something else at work there. She always seemed to spend more time describing the female bodies in all of their glorious curves. Men were described more in a perfunctory, paint-by-the numbers way. That never compared with the internal joy and glee words about breasts, legs, and smiles seemed to read with. That's why I always tried to get paired with her in my Introduction to Creative Writing class peer review sessions. I thought she might secretly be into girls, and, if I was very lucky, she might be attracted to a girl like me. Her insistence on writing hetero romance, however, put a damper on that.
That's when I hatched a slow burn seduction plot. We met a few times after class to go over each other's short stories for the week. It took a few meetings, but I eventually moved to meeting points off campus and to my home. Now, it was our third meeting at my house. I read her usual swooning-but-passionless crap about kissing guys. However, I only read in a half-hearted way. Actually, I was trying to read her body language as she read my story. I had written it especially for her - even though I was not planning on turning it in for a grade.
You see, I had written about her, but I hadn't written about her. I didn't mention her by name, and I knew nothing about her personally to make her a star in my fiction. I just described a girl like her - African American, tall, long braids, high cheekbones, an ample chest, and so on. It was supposed to be a slice-of-life vignette where she was shopping for shoes with a white girl that looked suspiciously like me. There was sassy wordplay going back and forth in the dialogue. Then, the two of them got back to the "white girl's" place and started kissing. I described it as tender and giggly at first ....
