Best Lesbian Erotica 2013 by Kathleen Warnock Page A

are over there,” she said, pointing. I saw them and moved toward them. “Wait,” she said. “Don’t get them yet.”
    I stared at her. “You’re not scared,” I accused. “You oughta be.”
    â€œI’m scared,” she said.
    â€œYou’re into this, it turns you on.”
    â€œYeah,” she said.
    â€œIt’s fucking scary shit,” I said. “It’s not a game. I turn into animals, all kinds of animals; did you think I was a werewolf like that stupid girl? She’s not anything; she’s just a human being who likes being trippy and weird.”
    â€œYou were a coyote.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut you’re not always a coyote.”
    â€œDo I look like a coyote right now?”
    â€œNo.” She smiled.
    I sighed. I lowered myself to a crouch. I was tired. “I’m lots of different kinds of animals,” I said. “Some of them, I don’t even think are real. Some are definitely extinct. I don’t always know, when I change, what I am, what the English name is or
the human idea about it. I can’t make it stop, usually, and I don’t decide when it happens, and there’s no rule, that I can tell, except that—it happens when I’m feeling something. Not one thing in particular, just—strong things. And not even always then. I don’t know why.” She nodded. I sucked in a breath, dug my fingernails into my palms, and said it fast. “I turned into a bear when Polly broke up with me. And I scratched her. Badly. That’s really why she transferred.”
    She laughed. I blinked at her. Then I laughed. I landed full on the ground, with a bump, and laughed.
    â€œIt was bad,” I insisted when I’d stopped laughing. “I mean, yeah, she was a bitch, she really was, but I attacked her. As a bear. It’s not…”
    â€œYou didn’t kill her,” she pointed out. “I mean, you might have, but you didn’t.”
    â€œBully for me,” I said.
    â€œI mean it.”
    â€œYou don’t seem scared.”
    â€œI am,” she said. She reached and put her hand on my thigh. She crawled her fingers up and brushed them over my pubic hair, this way and that, her eyes rising to mine. “I’m scared,” she said. She cupped her fingers over my vulva, and I could feel it warm and swell beneath them. “Is this okay?” She waited a moment. “It turns me on because it’s magic and because it’s yours.”
    I was quiet. I felt the throb and pulse push out from my center to her hand. She took her hand away.
    â€œI want to fuck you,” I said, looking at the grass under my fingertips and not at her. “When I see you in class, the smart things you say, you get under the skin of things. And your hair and your feet in those high heels and the clothes you wear. The curves of your ass and your boobs and your belly. And the shape of your jaw and the strength of your back. I shouldn’t fuck
anybody, this thing that I am. But I want to fuck you.”
    I could hear her breathing as I spoke and then she was on me like a wild thing, leaping and pressing and tumbling me back against the floor of the almost-forest. Her hand returned to my labia and my clit, drawing me up against her like a magnet. My back arched and my hips pushed forward. She bit me and scratched me with her other hand and I giggled helplessly and then grew still.
    I felt stillness, circling, and a throbbing hunger, great, fierce, in the center of my body, sucking away my breath and giving it back in bursts. The noises in my throat were strange but human, for all their ferocity. I felt her middle finger dipping and playing at the opening of my cunt, teasing the puckered edge and sending a jolt straight from there to her palm against my clit. My hips surged and bobbed like a toy boat in a rough current, and I came in sudden, pulsing jolts, and then I forced myself back,