Let It Be

Prologue

What’s going on.. this feels so wrong.. but oh, so right at the same time. This touch.. so soft. So feminine.. but the right amount of aggression. I’m not used to this. What will my friends think? .. oh shit.. yea, right there.. fuck what my friends think. Am I really…ENJOYING this? Wow..

Thoughts ran through my mind as Jazz twirled her tongue on my clit as she grabbed at my breast. See, I’m what the black lesbian community would call a “stud”. I’m that dominant one. I’m the aggressive one. I’m the one dressed in men’s’ clothing, not because I got raped or some other bullshit like that, but because I simply feel sexy in them. I feel confident in men’s jeans and button ups. I feel like I’m on top of the world with my Jordan’s. My dreads hang on my shoulders so fuck a flower in my hair. I wear ‘em down like a lion. Occasionally I’ll get em tied up. But I feel so much better with ‘em down or crowned with a snapback to match my outfits perfectly. I’m what straight people call a “dyke” because I’m so OBVIOUSLY gay. I never liked that word, at least when a straight person says it anyway, but that’s beside’s the point. The black gay community has always been hung up on this hetero-normative attitude. Studs go with fems and vice versa. Two fems.. yea, that works but two studs? “Na nigga that’s gay” “That shit don’t look right” “What the fuck kind of shit is that?” It never really made sense to me. We’re all females. Isn’t that the point of being a lesbian? I mean, we get enough negativity from straight people for being attracted to, liking, falling in love and even marrying another woman. But I’ve come to the realization that it’s only in the black and latina lesbian community. White people don’t care about labels and what goes with what. So me being a black lesbian, I kinda just… molded into what the black lesbian community expected of me.

Until now…