Pillow Talk II: More Lesbian Stories Between the Covers

Front Cover
Lesléa Newman
Alyson Books, 2000 - Fiction - 325 pages
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An Excerpt

"Uncommon Janitors in Lust" by Lisa Gonzales

I swear the fucking mop handle would do. Every night for the last two weeks, we've shown up around 7:15, and the little hot mami I lust after is still in her cubicle working hard for her money. Working so hard to keep her skirt and top still closet-fresh and her hair newly primped and fragranced. She drives me crazy and makes me so horny when she goes through her drawn-out motion to say hello.

It's a slow pan to the right and then the left, and then her dimples start to form a smile, but first she completes the head lift, directs her dark brown eyes, and then bam! She shoots me a flirtatious grin. Last Wednesday I thought I saw her curve her smile as if she were saying "ooouuuh." She looks like the girl in the Doritos commercial, like Hope from "Days of Our Lives." Need I say more?

The other lesbian janitor thinks I'm imagining all this shit. But a girl knows when there is a vibe going. I definitely do. Oh, and I definitely want to do her. I have this fantasy about meeting her in her boss's office and telling her how much I want her, and then gently setting her on her boss's desk to begin the feast and eat her sweet shrimp sushi slowly, tail and all. Man, I can't wait.

"Stop your fucking daydreaming, Marie, and help me with the trash," says Evy.

"Hey, man, look at her breasts. It's gotta happen. Maybe I should go talk to her."

"We've got two more buildings to clean tonight, and I want to go home and get laid too, so hurry up." Evy starts to laugh, then continues, "Look, you're fucking making me horny too, damn it. Well, go see if she's even a little interested--I doubt it, though. But don't take too long. I mean, be back here quick, man."

"I wonder if she likes poetry," I say softly, staring at the voluptuous woman.

"Dude, don't even start your shit. You always do that when you meet someone. Poems, candy, teddy bears. Girls don't want that anymore. They fucking want you to have a car and an apartment and pay their bills. Lesbian expectations are getting more and more like straight women's."

"Ah, save the drama for your mama! I'm going in."

"Fine, I'll meet you on the second floor. I'll give you some pri-va-cy," Evy sa

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