This week’s erotic author spotlight falls on Kathleen Warnock, who writes erotic fiction for Cleis Press and others. I know you’re going to enjoy meeting Kathleen through this spotlight post, and reading the free excerpt further down the page.
– Cara Sutra
Kathleen Warnock is a playwright and editor. She curates the Best Lesbian Erotica Series, the most recent of which is Best Lesbian Erotica 2014. Her fiction, essays and reviews have been seen in Love, Christopher Street; ROCKRGRL; BUST, Ms.;
This free excerpt is written by Sam Tweed, taken from “Who At My Door is Standing” in Best Lesbian Erotica 2014.
Sam Tweed’s biography
Sam Tweed is a Queer Lebanese Jew, who lives in Brooklyn with her partner and their cat, Xena. She is a documentary film producer and blogs at queerarabs.tumblr.com.
Their eyes locked, and Jonah put her head back. She didn’t usually invite strangers in, but for some reason, this felt oddly comfortable. Maybe the whiskey from the night before was still having an effect.
“Memphis, huh? Johnny Cash is like my favorite singer. You sing?”
“No,” Ryley smiled. “Not everyone from Memphis sounds like Johnny Cash.”
Jonah stood up to get a record. “I just know you have a deep sexy voice,” she said, and felt her face flush. Ryley just looked down, embarrassed.
Jonah fumbled for the record and bent over the player, carefully placing the needle. She looked back and noticed Ryley was cupping her glass, and staring right at her ass. She looked away and they both laughed, Jonah a little nervously. Ryley’s eyes cut right through her, and urges rushed through her. She felt herself getting wet and was almost alarmed. She had never been this aroused by anyone just looking at her. Jonah was surprised at Ryley’s intensity that seemed to have suddenly switched on.
“I like this record,” Ryley said, slowly. She leaned back and put one hand in her pocket. It almost looked like she was going to unbutton her pants, and Jonah’s heart skipped a beat. Jonah swallowed and went to get her flask. Ryley stood up and started walking around, and Jonah noticed the veins in her big hands. She got wetter just looking at Ryley’s hands; they were perfectly formed and strong. Jonah liked it rough and wondered what kind of things Ryley was into. They had known each other for less than an hour, and Jonah was ready to strip naked and wrap Ryley’s arms around her.
Jonah saw Ryley take in her knife collection: there were four big knives on her desk, in fancy leather cases.
“What are these for?”
“Sex mostly,” Jonah said. “And I like how they look.” She stepped closer, so they were standing about a foot apart. They could feel the heat from each other’s bodies.
“I don’t understand how you have sex with these”
Jonah laughed. “I don’t have sex with them, I like my part- ners to use them on me…”
Ryley kept listening, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. Jonah was sure Ryley could tell, even smell, her arousal. Ryley glanced at Jonah’s lips and back up to her eyes.
“What else do you like?”
“I like getting fucked really hard,” Jonah said frankly. Ryley was breathing heavily. Ryley clearly wasn’t used to the way Jonah was talking. Jonah looked straight into Ryley’s eyes, as if daring the other woman to kiss her. Ryley’s face was a mix of arousal and confusion; she pushed her hair out of her eyes and laughed. Jonah stepped back. Ryley put her hand in her pocket and turned.
“I should probably go back to my apartment…to unpack…”
“Yeah, okay, well thanks for stopping by. It was great to meet you.”
Ryley shook Jonah’s hand; she had a strong grip and it hurt a little. She walked to the door, then turned back to Jonah.
“I noticed your faucet was leaking, I can fix that sometime if you want. I’m pretty good with my hands.”
Jonah huffed a yes-ish word and closed the door, rolling her eyes.
Frustrated, she grabbed a knife. She threw it on her bed and stood in front of it, taking off her shirt and shorts, and then her binder; she left her briefs on. She crawled on the bed and lay flat. She took the cover off of the large knife and breathed in. As the knife lay on her chest, she reached underneath her briefs, surprised to find her vulva was slippery and wet. She grazed her fingers over her swollen clit and started rubbing it in circles. Her entire body felt tingly and she ran the tip of the knife over her erect nipples. She dug in harder with the knife under her rib cage, scraping into her skin, letting a couple drops of blood slide across her stomach, then making a line across down to her hip bone. She breathed out, rubbed her clit harder and slipped two fingers inside of herself, as deep as she could go.
She dropped the knife, pulled her fingers out and added a third, moving them in and out, massaging her G-spot, building intensity. She spread her inner lips apart with her free hand, and squeezed her clit, closing her legs and rolling over onto her stomach. The cut on her stomach burned as it rubbed on the blanket, and she thrust her hips into the bed. She rubbed her lower abdomen and felt it in her G-spot. She thought about Ryley fucking her from behind, gazing at her ass and slapping it calmly. She let out a loud moan and thrust into the mattress, harder and harder, until she felt her insides contract and cum poured out of her. She lay back and grabbed a joint next to her bed. She lit it and took a big puff, exhaling smoke rings around her limp, bleeding body. She might have fallen asleep. Sometime later her phone rang, and she picked up.
You can find Kathleen Warnock online at the following webspaces:
Kathleen Warnock on Twitter (@kwarnocky)