So, here is a piece of creative nonfiction I'm feeling VERY awkward about, but really need ConCrit on. I intend to send this in to an anthology about women's and transfolk's sexuality, so I want it to be perfect.

( This is a sexually explicit work dealing with masturbation, boydykery, sadomasochism, and voyeurism. You are warned. )

( Continues immediately from the last entry. )

“I’m a fucking zombie!” He says, confirming my suspicions. Well, except for the part where he’s capable of speech, which zombies aren’t really known for. Rapidly pacing back and forth across someone’s porch is also not known to be in their repertoire.

“I mean, a zombie! Is what I am! I’m the walking fucking dead!” He runs a shaky hand through ( Read more... )

( A woman sits on the edge of her bed, suitcases standing still packed where she’d set them down an hour or more ago, in a house that smells the same way it did when she was a child. )

( You're in the car. )

( She has always hated being told she’s cute. Almost as much as being called beautiful. )