The thing swaying in front of her didn’t even register as human at first. It seemed about as alive and conscious as the vibrator thrumming between its legs. Just a sex toy, executing its designated purpose without end.

On their three year anniversary, two lovers engage in a contest: whoever can make the other orgasm the most times in one day is the winner.

“Sometimes winning the switch fight meant kind of losing. When you were both switches, though, everybody won no matter the outcome. It all came down to pride and play.”

First I became a cloud-woman. Min had always liked watching them as a child, one of her only good memories from that period. I lifted up my skirts, let her lap up my water. Her mouth was covered in dew when I kissed her.

Mostly I had chalked my ambivalence up to stifling antidepressants and emotional avoidance. Was I gutted of desire or was this a case of under exposure? Or was I supposed to own my simpleton truth and scream from a cliff, “I just want to dim the lights and be pegged, goddamnit!”

You think, I would let her drink me dry, and shudder into obedience when she kisses you again.

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