Bisexual guy + voyeur girlfriend in "The Female Gaze" in Sweet Confessions

Lately I've had some kind of issue with writing. I miss it, I think about it a lot, I come up with scenarios and titles, I start stories and essays and pitches but...I don't seem to quite finish them. Maybe I start too many, or maybe I sleep too late, or maybe I just need a vacation. It sucks, though, because I know those ideas could've been worthy and would've had a good chance of being accepted. I do have a few stories pending that my fingers are (virtually) crossed on, but I don't want to keep making that mistake over and over. It does mean that the stories I have sold, I'm extra proud of. One is "The Female Gaze," which will be in Violet Blue's July 1st Cleis Press anthology Sweet Confessions: Erotic Fantasies for Couples.



Below is all the sneak peek you're gonna get...you should pre-order the book so you can read the whole thing! The title was inspired by the seemingly umpteen times I had to read people like Laura Mulvey and John Berger and Michel Foucault in my women's studies classes at UC Berkeley. My politics were very different but one thing I think I can safely say remains the same is that I'm not an academic and never will be. The male gaze is an interesting concept but I think when it comes to erotica and sexuality so many of these topics can be played with, fucked with, if you will. No offense if you dig those writers; my point was my title played on that, and also the idea that "men are more visual than women," which I think is such a broad stereotype as to be useless. I'm totally a voyeur, much, much more so than I am an exhibitionist. I also kindof wanted to turn the straight guy + bisexual women trope on its head a bit. And I did (well, you can be the judge).

The Female Gaze
by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Ever since they’d started dating three years before, Alex had been telling Rory about the boys who hit on him--the men, the bears, the daddies, the ones who looked like they were barely legal, the silver foxes, the shy boys who found in him a kinship, or just a look, a lust, an impulse. “The bartender comped my drink, then slipped me his number. Do I have to put on a wedding band before they get the picture?” he’d ask, chuckling as he kissed her lightly.

She ran her hands through his thick black hair before telling him that a wedding ring had never been a deterrent to men hooking up with other men. Maybe she should have been bothered by people checking out her man, the one who’d once been a model and graced ads for Calvin Klein underwear and Brooks Brothers before deciding that he really preferred environmental law. But she didn’t mind, not really, and certainly didn’t begrudge these men their hungry stares, their heartfelt offers. The women she could do without, the ones who blatantly clocked her man while they walked down the street, the ones who she could tell would him into the bathroom for a quickie if they thought they could get away with it. Rory wasn’t sure why, exactly, the former amused her and the latter annoyed her, but there it was. Actually, it was more than that; the thought of these men kissing her boyfriend, running their hands all over his firm, muscular body, swallowing his cock, plundering his bottom as she’d only fantasized about doing, well, it turned her on.

She couldn’t help but wonder if they saw in Alex the same things she did. Was that possible? Were they clairvoyant--or just horny? Was he just another pretty face or did they want him to speak to them in that booming, low voice? Did they want him to order them around, like she did? “Touch yourself for me. Show me how wet you are. Fuck yourself with the vibrator I got you.” Would Alex be a top or a bottom in bed with a man? The more these men propositioned him, the more Rory found these naughty images creeping into her mind when she was alone, when she let her fingers wander between her lips and her mind go free.