Category Archives: Fiction

Original fiction

Lock ’em up!

I heard of another mom who found her kids, and some neighborhood kids, playing fake-karaoke with her Hitachi, singing into it like Mr. Microphone…


“Magic” – The Finale

(The Finale)

(This is the final installment in a serial story.
To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

When the group of women arrived at Sarah’s door, it was locked, as she had left it. But while Sarah fumbled for her key, Lupa reached out and turned the knob as easily as if it had been left open. They stepped inside.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” someone said. And it was. The fire was blazing and the room was warm. There were dozens of white pillar candles on the mantle, on the coffee table, on the kitchen table, and even on the kitchen counter. The room flickered in their light.

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“Magic” – Part 12

(Part 12)

(This is an installment in a serial story.
To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

The door to the Women’s Room was open and warm light and a warm, spicy scent spilled out on the street. The butterflies in Sarah’s stomach banged their wings against the walls as she walked in the door.

“No surprise here! Happy birthday!” Lupa called out, greeting her in the doorway. All in one fluid motion, she pulled Sarah in close for a hug and a kiss on the cheek, wiped her lipstick smudge away with her thumb, handed her a sparkling flute of champagne, and turned her by the shoulders to face the room. “Meet your party. Party, this is Sarah.”

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“Magic” – Part 11

(Part 11)

(This is an installment in a serial story.
To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

Sarah spent the afternoon doing her best to organize the apartment without smudging her new pedicure. She kept looking down at her bare feet on the hardwood floor, thinking that her feet looked both beautiful and foreign with their dark, shiny toenails.

There wasn’t much she could do to change the appearance of her mostly-empty living room, but she was both excited and nervous about the coming evening and fluffing pillows and pushing the couch around helped to calm her down. Continue reading

I hope you got everything you wanted

gay_les_vintage_couple… in this holiday season!

And, before the snow stops falling on this blog, here’s some lesbian-themed holiday fiction to keep you warm!


Following the Thread

A Slice of Pi

Bridging the Gap (explicit, password “wolf”)

Contraction of Desire

If you don’t understand punctuation, you might find this story hot. If you understand and appreciate punctuation, you might find it hot and funny.

Original fiction:apostrophe

As always, the parking lot at the Berkeley Bowl was a cluster fuck.

Since I’m not a fan of parking garages, I circled several times before a space opened up on the far side, near the street. I pulled in next to a black Lexus with tinted windows just as the passenger door was opening.

A young woman emerged, quickly smoothing down her short cotton dress and composing herself. She reached for the passenger door and opened it, wedging herself between the two cars. There was an edge of formality to her action and she stood still, eyes forward, until the driver unfolded herself from the car, clearly taking her time. The driver was tall and masculine in presentation, her hair cropped close around the sides and fading smoothly into her honey-colored skin. She wore a pressed white button-down shirt, and heavy silver loops in her ears. After the door had closed gently, and the driver had set the locks, she handed the girl her leather jacket, and the girl stood on tip-toe to slide it onto the driver’s shoulders. As her hem of her dress lifted with her efforts, the red welts of a recent caning showed on the backs of her thighs. They started toward the store, the driver leading the way.

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Valentine’s Fiction

For some reason, even though I’m not a big fan of the forced romanticism of Valentine’s Day, the holiday has seemed to creep into my fiction over the years:

Underwired – A lonely woman shops for bras on Valentine’s Day and finds the perfect bra and more.

Chocolate Fondue – A Victorian fantasy about a femme top and a pot of melted chocolate.

The Pillow Fight – A random encounter leads to SF’s infamous Valentine’s Day Pillow Fight.

For slightly deeper Valentine’s Day reading, check out Something About Love, a serial story I wrote a couple of years ago as part of a Freedom To Marry event that spanned several different blogs.

A Slice of Pi

pitattoo.jpgShe held out her wineglass, and I filled it four-fifths of the way up with chardonnay. Her eyes widened.

“Trying to get me drunk?”

I leaned back against the kitchen counter, taking the time to survey her. I smiled what I hoped was my cockiest smile.

“Lady, I don’t even know you.” Continue reading


mistletoe.jpegIt was one of those holiday-gathering-slash-game-night things.

We were drinking sweet beverages ladled out of a big bowl, and took turns calling out the answers to Trivial Pursuit questions until we all got restless, and wandered off to the kitchen for another round of snacks.

“No. Really,” Cara was saying. “If I was on ‘Jeopardy’ and the topics were food, shoes, human genetics, and bad date stories, I’d have it in the bag.”

“Right,” said Perry, “you do know a lot about shoes.”

Cara rolled her eyes at me, and slapped Perry’s arm.

“All I’m saying, is outside of work, there’s not much going on these days.”

I looked at the black and white zebra-striped pumps she was wearing. I had noticed earlier that they had a red sole.

“Judging by the vintage Louboutins, I’d say there’s at least one area of your life that’s rockin’ besides work.”

“Thanks for noticing,” she said. “But… hey… how did you know these are Christian Louboutin?”

“By the flash of red – I keep up.”

“You never fail to amaze me,” she said.

“Or me,” Perry said, looking up and down my lanky frame, covered in faded jeans, a starched white shirt, and a grey cashmere vest, and coming to rest on my well-worn Tony Lama boots. “Who would have guessed you were a closet fashion queen?”

“There’s nothing in my closet but clothes. You know that better than anyone, Perry.”

We exchanged the sort of smile that passes between old friends and and even older lovers.

“Well,” Cara said. “It’s that time. I’ve got to get myself home. Alone.”

“I’m glad you were here,” I said. “You brought beauty to an otherwise dull night.”

She flipped her hair back off her shoulder and gave me a coy look and a little drawl, “I’m betting you talk to all the girls that way.”

“Nope. She never talked to me that way,” Perry said. “Not once.”

Cara started for the front door.

I grabbed Perry by the arm. “Come on. I helped you hang the mistletoe in the hallway. Let’s go kiss her goodnight.”

“Together?” Perry said. “Both of us?”

“Hell, yeah,” I said. “She’s hot and it’s the holidays. Let’s have a little fun.”

We followed her to the front hall.

“Can I help you with your coat, Ma’am?” I said in my deepest voice, trying to add a touch of Rhett Butler to my inflection.

“Well, you sure can, you sweet thing,” she said, playing along.

“Can I find your purse for you?” Perry asked.

Cara looked from one of us to the other. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing really,” I said. “It’s just that I came over early, before the party started, to help Perry hang the mistletoe. She said it was good luck to help put it up, and maybe I’d get lucky and kiss a pretty girl.”

I tried to smile a winning smile.

Cara looked at Perry. “Did you tell her that?”

“You know, standing under the mistletoe almost guarantees you’ll get kissed,” said Perry looking up. “See, there’s a big ball of it above my head right now.”

She reached out and took Cara by the hand, pulling her in closer. “And now it’s right over your head, too.”

Perry kissed Cara gently on the lips.

“Oh, my,” Cara said, feigning surprise.

I tapped Perry on the shoulder. “Excuse me. May I cut in?”

Before she could protest, I wrapped my arms around Cara and began to kiss her lingeringly, showing off a little for Perry.

I stopped when I heard Perry clear her throat. She turned Cara around kissed her again.

Cara came up for air. “Girls, girls. My heck. This is some holiday tradition you’ve got going here.”

She stepped back and smiled a little wickedly.

“Well look at that, now it’s just the two of you under the mistletoe.”

Perry and I looked at each other.

“We couldn’t,” I said.

“We never do,” said Perry.

“But you did,” said Cara.

“It’s been years,” I said. “That was college.”

“We’re buddies,” Perry said.

Cara crossed her arms as though she meant to wait us out. “All in good fun.”

She tapped her zebra-striped toe.

I shrugged and stepped a little closer to Perry and kissed her lightly on the lips and started to turn away.

But Perry surprised me by grabbing my belt and and pulling me back to her. Then, digging her fingers into the back of my cropped hair, she began kissing me for real. As startled as I was, I felt my lips soften and open, as if of their own volition, responding to her still-familiar touch and scent. From somewhere far away, I heard a soft, deep moan. Honestly, I’m not sure if it came from Perry or me. The tip of her tongue began to trace a smooth oval just inside the rim of my lips, and I felt one of her hands slide down to the small of my back, pressing me even closer to her. I let my tongue find hers, and they danced there for a minute.

Then – as suddenly as it started – we broke away, each of us gasping a little.

“Whew. Just like riding a bicycle,” Perry said.

“Yep,” I said, trying to hold on to what was left of my cool.

There was an awkward silence.

“Damn,” said Cara. “Two butch girls like you. Now that was a holiday treat. Thank you. A lady knows when to make an exit, so I’ll leave the two of you alone.” She opened the door and shut it behind her.

Perry and I stood in the hallway, looking at the closed door.

“That was hot,” I said.

“Sure was,” Perry agreed.

“Had a real effect on Cara, didn’t it?”

“Seemed to,” Perry said.

“S0… when do you think she’ll come out of the coat closet?”


Protected: Bridging the Gap

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“Magic” – Part 10

(Part 10)

(This is an installment in a serial story.
To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

On Tuesday, Sarah awoke to a knock on her door. She lifted the cat out of her way and climbed out of bed. Her landlord, Michael, stood holding the morning newspaper and a paper cup and bag.

“Oh, heck. I woke you,” he said. “Well, Happy birthday. I brought you a scone and a vanilla latte, and since it’s your birthday, the latte has whipped cream.”

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Finally! “Magic,” Part 9

(This is an installment in a serial story. To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

(Part 9)

When Sarah’s heart stopped racing and her breath began to slow, she stretched her right arm up and unbuckled the cuff that bound her left arm to the headboard.

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About Password Protected Posts

Geek Porn Girl has historically been a PG-13- to R-rated blog. I’m trying password protection as a way of posting some original fiction that is more explicit in nature. You can @ me on Twitter or email me for the password if you’re over 18.

Protected: Fiction: A Fairy Tale

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Brandee’s Last Dance

Original fiction:


Brandee looked up from her book at the clock duct-taped to the wall above the cracked, lipstick-smeared mirror.

“It can’t be time to do it again.”

She glanced around the empty dressing room, strewn with pizza boxes and coffee cups. Stockings hung over a pipe that ran along the wall. A rolling wardrobe rack held an odd assortment of bits of lingerie, leather, a white vinyl nurse’s uniform, a silk kimono, and a fuzzy chenille bathrobe. The space heater humming away under the counter just barely eased the chill in the air and kept condensation from forming on the whitewashed cinderblock walls. Brandee kicked off her fleece boots and slipped into the purple satin heels that sat on the floor by her chair. She pulled one knee into her chest, stretching out her leg and hip, and then the other. Then standing, she leaned into the mirror, swiped on another coat of lipgloss, and headed for the stage. Continue reading

Showing Pink For the Holiday

Goddess help me!

Just when I thought that the worst insults that could be heaped on our private parts were reserved for those both rich and stupid (think vaginoplasty, labial reduction, and anal bleaching), there were mints to refresh our girly bits, and some women started gluing jewels down there in a crafting trend that would make Martha Stewart blush.

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Magic (Part 7)

(This is an installment in a serial story. To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

After breakfast, Sarah made a list of all the things her new flat needed, and headed out to see if she could find some of them. She was reluctant to move her car and lose her parking place, but she knew she couldn’t carry a nightstand and a dresser home on BART.

The heavy fog that had rolled in came as a surprise after the shafts of sunlight that had greeted her when she awoke.

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Magic (Part 6)

(This is an installment in a serial story. To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

Sarah woke up to gentle paws kneading her. She opened her eyes and in the morning half-light, she saw a white fluffy cat sitting above her. Instinctively, she reached out and stroked the cat, who settled in and purred contentedly on her belly. She slipped back into sleep.

When she awoke again, the cat had crept up and was sleeping in the crook of her arm, cuddled against her chest. She flexed her fingers, playing with its fur, and when she opened her eyes, the room was bright. Sunlight streaked across her bed, and while she could feel the cat, she couldn’t see it. Continue reading

Magic (Part 5)

(This is an installment in a serial story. To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

In her slumber, Sarah gradually became aware that the music had changed. It was louder and bouncier, with a rhythm that recalled an old-fashioned calliope. She slowly opened her eyes, still leaning on the overstuffed arm of the sofa, then sat upright at what she saw.

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Magic (Part 4)

(This is an installment in a serial story. To read “Magic” from the beginning, click here.)

Inside the shop it was dim, and it took a moment for Sarah’s eyes to adjust.

The space was long and narrow, and after blinking a few times, she realized the walls were hung with crimson velvet and light came from a series of mismatched crystal chandeliers scattered across the ceiling. Big and small, hung high and low, they glowed softly. The breeze from the open door caused them to sway slightly. Continue reading