We’re both trying to avoid the lesbian bed death trope, hoping to be remembered in history as lovers, not “really good friends.”

The latest in Queer Sex 101, our series of real live queer people teaching you everything you need to know about real queer sex continues, with a one-hour workshop from sex educator, Autostraddle writer, SLICK editor and More, Please! editor Ro White on strap-on sex.

You are just picking up Naomi. Your very good friend, Naomi, whom you have only not-so-jokingly offered to take up on her not-so-joking offer to fuck for a decade. She literally just got emotionally gut punched by some fuckboy. Don’t be another fuckboy. Not today. Unless she initiates. Fuck, she always initiates. Fuck, I missed my exit.

Special? Of course she was special. She was their partner, their most precious relationship, their lover of nearly ten years, their most trusted confidant. She smelled like a combination of lavender and musk, with this particular tenderness that still made Bennett’s knees weak and that growl start to build deep in their body.

I should’ve masturbated in the shower. I need to be pushed against a wall. She smells like the ocean.

I wanted you to dominate me, Daddy, and you relished the chance. The leather straps twirled through the air as the pain grew sharper and more familiar. It stung hard. And it felt so fucking good.