Monthly Archives: August 2010


Contains six stories previously published, now all in one place.  Available from

Knit One, Purl Two appeared in Afternoon Delight

Logic appeared in Tasting Him: Oral sex stories

Tight Sweater appeared in Ultimate Lesbian Erotica 2009

Old London Town appeared in Where the Girls Are

The flicks appeared online in Tassels and Tales

Hush appeared in Best Women’s Erotica 2008


Photo from After Ellen

I wasn’t a huge Skunk Anansie fan, but I’d heard of their front-woman, Skin.  What I hadn’t heard, until my friend, E enlightened me, was that she was openly bisexual.  I’d always been told that she was a lesbian (score one for bisexual erasure).  Nice to know the real story, though it does make me sad to think that when most other bisexuals talk about celebrities, and they do that a lot, black bi people aren’t mentioned at all. 

So thank you, E.  You rock in many and varied ways.  And I tip my hat to you, Skin.  You just rock, period!


Caption edited to add:

I wasn’t sure about re-blogging this photo, but I’m really glad I did.  I don’t just want to explore sexuality if it meets a certain image.  Sure there are going to be stereotypes, but right now, I don’t give a shit.  I’ve been starved of black sexual imagery for most of my life.  Right now I want to see it all; the outrageous, the sedate and the bloody amazing!  So good on you, lads.  Go on with your fierce selves!


(omenwoman:knowingher: thatssoxander)



I once knew a man; a musician with long talented fingers.  He knew exactly how to use them.  He would make me gasp and writhe like nobody ever had before.  A long weekend was enough.  I pictured him smiling up at me from between my legs as time marched on.  I imagined the feel of his fingers probing, touching.  No wonder I always called out his name when I came, even when he left and went back to his home across the sea.  

When I’m with you, I try not to be an inconsiderate lover; I usually bite my tongue, or insist that you gag me.  And even when you’re inside me, I think of him too.  I think of all of us.  I love you both. 

This is half of the reason why I wrote ‘What’s in a name?’  The story appears in Orgasmic, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel.


I wrote the following piece just after BiCon 2009.  I thought it would be nice to re-post a section of it now, just to get me in the mood for BiCon 2010, which is SEVEN DAYS AWAY!


A balloon shaped like a Dalek swings by; a prize won by a happy BiCon soul during the closing session.  I sit in my seat next to my friend who always calls me ‘Chica’ when she sees me.  I have other friends in the room; the Brighton crowd sit in an orderly line behind me, the Dublin crowd to the left.  I am surrounded by affection and happy bisexual thoughts…

Time rewinds to two days before.  My girlfriend speaks up in a session.  My heart flutters at her forthright voice, her commanding speech. I used to think she was shy in crowds.  I am so happy that her confidence is present; the whole room listens to her.  I am proud beyond words.

BiCon seems to pack so much into just four days.  I go to check my watch, but it’s in the bottom of my suitcase in my room.  I hardly need to keep track of time in this magical environment.

The Dalek balloon bounces in slow motion ahead of me.  I close my eyes; think about the geeks and fans for which this silly toy means so much.

A man I barely know shows me the wonder that is silicone lube.  He hands me a miniature bottle.  I pour a tiny drop onto the head of his cock.  It’s more than enough.  I wonder how much a big bottle costs.  I wonder if I can remember the way my fingers moved up and down.  I wanted to learn about handjobs.  He wanted to teach.  I love BiCon so much for this reason and more.  I know I won’t remember every single thing that happened, but as the Dalek balloon arcs over my head, moving as if in slow-motion, I know I have all those memories inside me.  I know they’ll influence my writing, my behaviour and my life in general.  Everything is wonderful at that exact moment of realisation.  Time swings back, throws up another memory for me to enjoy.

The first session of Friday; Genital Show and Tell.  I sit in a room surrounded by varied bodies, most of whom have taken their skirts and trousers off.  ‘Can you take off your socks too?’ my friend asks.  The workshop facilitator smiles, flings the offending article of clothing into a corner.  We all talk about the differences and similarities in our cunts and our cocks.  It’s refreshing that everyone is so open, so honest.  The positive atmosphere in the room astounds me.  I raise my hand, aware that I am still fully clothed.  ‘Can I ask about asses?’  Two people bend over in succession.

Time goes back and forth.  A new Irish friend slips the headcovering from me, strokes fingers over my scalp.  ‘Why do you keep it hidden?’ he asks, kissing me.  ‘It feels nice to touch.’  I am starting to sense a theme.  Let go, say what you need, hold open your arms.


Sigh.  BiCon really is this great.  Really.