Bisexual in Manhattan (boyxboy & lesbian stories)

eight | writing erotica

It's always a good day when somebody other than yourself pays for your Starbucks, even if it's a frumpy barista that smells bologna and sweat. This man (I'm going to call him Burt for story purposes because his name tag was suffocated by his right boob and I was unable to read it) had asked me to write my number down so that he could call me sometime. I obliged and wrote down a number- Shay's number.

So I left with my free iced green tea latte with soy and no sugar, and he was left with the very far-fetched idea that he had somehow just bagged a hottie.

I really hate going into Starbucks, especially the ones in New York City. Besides the fact that they're always packed, every table is occupied by anti-social 'writers' that are just trying to show people that they're busy writing something. Like come on, you're going to tell me that you had nowhere else to write besides Starbucks? I find that incredibly hard to believe, and I find these people incredibly irritating. However, as long as Starbucks makes iced lattes, I'll keep coming back for more.

Before I enter the writer's workshop, I make sure to ditch my drink so I don't look too pretentious walking in with a latte. Luckily most of the people that are in the class had chosen seats upfront, so I'm able to score a back row.

I free my Macbook from my bag and place it onto the table; screw paper notes. Sinking down in my chair, I shoot a quick text to the roomies' group chat, which is appropriately titled Fagtastic Four. We text back and forth a bit, roasting poor Burt, and make random conversations. Somewhere in the midst of my straight fire group chat, the rest of the class filled in, and so had the teacher.

"Welcome everybody," an elderly woman greets the room as she puts her belongings down on the desk. "My name is Perry Danbury, and many of you may know me as the author of the erotic series, Chains and Taints."

The entire class gives her an around of applause, however I'm honestly baffled as to who this bitch is. I also thank god that I wasn't sipping my latte when she said the word taint, because I would have spit it up all over the man sitting in front of me.

As Ms. Danbury goes on some long speech as to how she became a writer, I can't help but imagine the old woman sitting on her living room sofa, writing steamy love affairs while Jeopardy plays in the background. This woman is my new inspiration in life.

"Well enough about me. You're all here to learn," she says. "I'm sure all of the other speakers that come to these workshops have you do exercises on descriptive writing, or characterization, so today I'm going to change it up for you guys. I want you to partner up in pairs and write erotica featuring you and your partner. At the end of the class we'll all share. Now I understand that this may be uncomfortable for most of you, but if you can write this, you can write almost anything."

A few people break into groups immediately, while I sit still like a lost puppy. I contemplate going up to somebody but then I think how weird it would be to ask a complete stranger to write smut with me. When I look to my left I see a particularly large girl heading straight for me hungry eyes, and I'm pretty sure she's Nikki Blonsky from the movie Hairspray. I quickly turn to my right and link eyes with another female that's sitting two seats away from me.

"Partners?" I frantically ask her before it's too late.

The brunette shakes her head yes and I quickly pick up my things and move over to her before Nikki Blonsky attacks.

"Thanks for saying yes. I was thinking I was gonna have to casually walk out of here," I tell her. It takes me only a few seconds to settle into my new desk and then I finally get a good look at her. She's gorgeous.

"Don't even worry about it," she smiles. "I was kinda hoping to work with you."

Ding, ding, ding, I'm in this.