through the front door.
"It's fine in here," she said, without thinking.
"Excuse me?"
"I guess I might have been expecting sleazy old men jerking off into telephone booths."
Then she realized that she was surrounded by cocks. Mostly big ones.
Mostly on beautiful young men. She started flipping through some of the magazines.
"This is how I know I'm not a lesbian," Kate said. "Because I'm turned on by cock. I like cock."
"All right, Kate," Molly said.
"I can't believe you're not."
"You can't be alive in the modern age and not associate sex with big dicks," Molly said.
"Well, I like it."
"Good for you. Does Peter have to hear you say, `I like pussy'?
Bet not."
"Well, I like cock." Kate said it again. She liked saying it. It made her sound dirty and polymorphously perverse.
"Have you ever said to Peter, `I like pussy'?"
"No, I haven't," she said. "It has never occurred to me to say that.
It wouldn't be appropriate."
Then she felt uncomfortable.
"Where's the women's stuff?" she asked.
"Ask the guy behind the counter."
The first thing that she noticed about the guy behind the counter was that he had Kaposi's lesions on his face. She knew that's what they were from pictures she had seen and some sideways glances at deteriorating men on the street, but never on the face of someone she had to interact with in an equal way.
How great, she thought. How great of this place to let him keep working like that. Then she remembered that this was a gay place, so that particular brand of compassion could probably be expected. She wondered how many other people in the store had AIDS.
"Excuse me," she said, looking past the man's lesions to see his real face. "Where is the lesbian section?"
"Well," he said, smiling as if nothing was wrong, nothing at all.
"Unfortunately most so-called lesbian porn is made by men for men but if you look over the really old material from the fifties and sixties there is some that's fun."
He came out from behind the counter and led her over to a solitary bin behind the videos.
"Here, for example, is a 1962 picture book disguised as a socially conscious expose'. See, here is a classic black-and-white of two women eating each other."
He put it into her hand and walked away.
The caption said, "Lesbians are often better cunnilinguists than men."
- - That's true, she thought suddenly and was surprised.
When it was time to close up, Kate saw Molly making a huge -effort to be in a good mood, since they only had an hour to get home and make love before Kate had to leave. On the way out Molly handed her a magazine she had bought and wrapped up in a paper bag, making her promise not to open it until she got home. That had been a week ago.
She'd opened it a dozen times since then. It was a collection of transsexuals in various poses.
-"I found this when you were looking at the muff-divers and thought of you immediately," Molly had said.
It was packed with photos of euphorically happy men in sexy, slimy, girly getups with hard pricks and big boobs. They looked so turned on.
They turned her on with their dicks and tits, how excited they were.
Kate watched herself masturbate in front of the mirror. Her face showed great pleasure. She could rock down on her hips and swing into a low moan. She could dance around her studio being led by her own hand. When she masturbated against the white wall, her skin was so white that a voyeur would see no separation until the eyes. When she danced along the purple wall, the wall the color of greengage plums, she was a body tumbling over an ocean like the flying musicians of Chagall paintings. She masturbated. She could feel her orgone rushing inside her like a waterfall, like crowds of teenage girls held back from the Beatles, who, suddenly in a
"It's fine in here," she said, without thinking.
"Excuse me?"
"I guess I might have been expecting sleazy old men jerking off into telephone booths."
Then she realized that she was surrounded by cocks. Mostly big ones.
Mostly on beautiful young men. She started flipping through some of the magazines.
"This is how I know I'm not a lesbian," Kate said. "Because I'm turned on by cock. I like cock."
"All right, Kate," Molly said.
"I can't believe you're not."
"You can't be alive in the modern age and not associate sex with big dicks," Molly said.
"Well, I like it."
"Good for you. Does Peter have to hear you say, `I like pussy'?
Bet not."
"Well, I like cock." Kate said it again. She liked saying it. It made her sound dirty and polymorphously perverse.
"Have you ever said to Peter, `I like pussy'?"
"No, I haven't," she said. "It has never occurred to me to say that.
It wouldn't be appropriate."
Then she felt uncomfortable.
"Where's the women's stuff?" she asked.
"Ask the guy behind the counter."
The first thing that she noticed about the guy behind the counter was that he had Kaposi's lesions on his face. She knew that's what they were from pictures she had seen and some sideways glances at deteriorating men on the street, but never on the face of someone she had to interact with in an equal way.
How great, she thought. How great of this place to let him keep working like that. Then she remembered that this was a gay place, so that particular brand of compassion could probably be expected. She wondered how many other people in the store had AIDS.
"Excuse me," she said, looking past the man's lesions to see his real face. "Where is the lesbian section?"
"Well," he said, smiling as if nothing was wrong, nothing at all.
"Unfortunately most so-called lesbian porn is made by men for men but if you look over the really old material from the fifties and sixties there is some that's fun."
He came out from behind the counter and led her over to a solitary bin behind the videos.
"Here, for example, is a 1962 picture book disguised as a socially conscious expose'. See, here is a classic black-and-white of two women eating each other."
He put it into her hand and walked away.
The caption said, "Lesbians are often better cunnilinguists than men."
- - That's true, she thought suddenly and was surprised.
When it was time to close up, Kate saw Molly making a huge -effort to be in a good mood, since they only had an hour to get home and make love before Kate had to leave. On the way out Molly handed her a magazine she had bought and wrapped up in a paper bag, making her promise not to open it until she got home. That had been a week ago.
She'd opened it a dozen times since then. It was a collection of transsexuals in various poses.
-"I found this when you were looking at the muff-divers and thought of you immediately," Molly had said.
It was packed with photos of euphorically happy men in sexy, slimy, girly getups with hard pricks and big boobs. They looked so turned on.
They turned her on with their dicks and tits, how excited they were.
Kate watched herself masturbate in front of the mirror. Her face showed great pleasure. She could rock down on her hips and swing into a low moan. She could dance around her studio being led by her own hand. When she masturbated against the white wall, her skin was so white that a voyeur would see no separation until the eyes. When she danced along the purple wall, the wall the color of greengage plums, she was a body tumbling over an ocean like the flying musicians of Chagall paintings. She masturbated. She could feel her orgone rushing inside her like a waterfall, like crowds of teenage girls held back from the Beatles, who, suddenly in a
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