This month’s theme:
Love and Lust: Same-Sex Redux

In honor of Valentine’s Day,  I’ve always done “Love and Lust” as February’s theme, and have occasionally written same-sex stories. As a straight man, I’m always extra cognizant of writing from the perspective of women or gay men, since I’m not an authority on either. But regardless of one’s sexual preference, there’s always some common ground with love and lust.

This edition of Cud Flashes, which is longer than usual, features reruns of same-sex stories. It’s important that we keep firmly in mind the challenges that same-sex couples continue to face around the world to have their love recognized and treated the same as the love of heterosexual couples.

“Immoral Character”
February 2012
Science Fiction
By David M. Fitzpatrick

Jayna loved her four partners, and they loved her. It wasn’t a relationship of just sex; it was very real.

She’d met Daryl on a space cruise to the Eagle Nebula. By the time they were circling the Spire, they were giggling like teenagers; by the time they were arcing around the Pillars of Creation, they’d kissed for the first time. And as the cruise ship soared across a whirling disc around a newborn star, they made love while bathed in a cosmic rainbow. It was wondrous, the most joyous thing either had ever experienced.

They first experimented sexually while on a trip to the planet Bectar. It wasn’t planned, but when they met Zordius, they both fell in love with him/her. The orange-furred Bectarians were dual-sexed humanoids who didn’t wear clothes, so it was partially a physical reaction; Jayna saw his/her impressive organ, and Daryl couldn’t stop ogling his/her four softly furred breasts.

It would have just been harmless attraction, but they struck up a conversation that lasted for hours, helped by Bectarian polarberry wine—and games of Bectarian dartball, which involved a moving target and lots of running and jumping. Jayna’s horniness watching Zordius’ flopping organ and Daryl’s watching bouncing breasts had them squirming. When Daryl whispered that perhaps they could all spend the night together, Jayna agreed. It was great sex at first, but after a week together, there was no denying the romance. Zordius left Bectar to be with his/her new mates. For two years they traveled the galaxy as lovers.

But one day, on the planet Mekzon, they met their fourth. Mekzon was populated by sentient machines in many forms, but Quebulon was modeled after humanoids. He appeared human, but the android’s glowing green eyes and blinking lights at his temples gave him away. Quebulon was anatomically male, and something of a Casanova who wooed Jayna until she blushed. Daryl was amused and Zordius confused, but eventually they all ended up in bed together. It was a wild night, and although Quebulon had engaged in sex with many in his time, he admitted he’d never felt true love for biological life forms—until then.

Their fifth came two years later, when they met Uleea on Dolyax Five during a jungle safari. They mistook her for an animal at first, which was understandable since Uleea was a six-limbed, two-tailed female primate just four feet tall. She moved through the trees in a high-speed, blue-skinned, acrobatic show that had them all amazed. When they discovered she was intelligent, they became fast friends—so good that when they were preparing to leave a week later, Uleea cried and begged them to stay or take her with them. So they explained their relationship; Uleea was intrigued, and wanted to join.

Thus became the five-member partnership. Sex was always astounding, whether with just two of them or more or the whole family. And when the whole family was, it was pretty wild. But the key word was “family”; occasionally they adventured with other sexual partners, but no more were invited in. That was the difference between “just sex” and “love.”

One day, Daryl suggested they all get married. There was much discussion, and it was decided they’d be officially married in each of their respective cultures. First they journeyed to Dolyax Five and were married in the treetop house of Uleea’s ancestral family, with great celebration. Then they voyaged to Mekzon and were married according to the Code of Logic the machines embraced. After, they traveled to Bectar, where a three-day ceremony involving lots of Bectarian whisky and plenty of Bectarian dartball.

Finally, they returned to Earth to make their union official under Earth laws. They visited the municipal office in Jayna’s home city, where they were given an application listing all the marital partners. After they filled it out, the official looked it over—and rejected it.

“But why?” Jayna asked.

“This union would be illegal,” the official said.

“But any number of partners is legal in a marriage,” said Daryl.

“And it’s legal to marry aliens,” said Jayna.

“And it’s legal to marry artificial life forms,” Daryl added.

“So why can’t we be married?” Jayna asked.

“Because five partners and two aliens and an android is clearly immoral,” said the official, “and why the law expressly forbids it.”

“This is outrageous!” Jayna cried. “We’ll fight this.”

“Good luck,” the official sneered. “Others have tried for a hundred years. Multiples, aliens, androids, or any combination of those—but not all three. It’s just common sense. We must be a moral compass here to protect the rights of decent people! Otherwise, people will start marrying their pets, and the sanctity of marriage will be destroyed.”

The five lovers left together, resolving to fight nonetheless, for the principle of the issue and for their rights. But in the meantime they at least had what mattered: true love, as only the five of them could understand.

And it wasn’t really anyone else’s job to try to understand it.

 

“Hell Hath No Fury”
February 2013
Science fiction
By David M. Fitzpatrick

Janna met Krysteen at summer camp when they were eleven. Janna was too young to understand that she was attracted to females; she only knew she was enamored with Krysteen. Krysteen’s cascading hair seemed spun of gold; her sparkling blue eyes lit up the room as much as her laugh did, her heart-shaped face punctuated by a cute button nose. Janna was entranced.

During a group hike one day, they met a bear. The android counselor rushed the screaming girls away, but Krysteen tripped and fell. Janna ran back to her as the bear lumbered through the woods. She helped her up, relishing the feel of the girl’s hand in hers as the android returned to them, and they all scampered off.

Krysteen would be terrified of wild animals forever after, but she was thankful to Janna, and they became friends. Krysteen was from North California and Janna lived in Boston Province, but Janna talked her parents into sending her to Krysteen’s private school. It was a long flight from New Baltimore every day (and back again at night), but it was worth it to be near Krysteen. At first, Krysteen seemed a weak friend, but she got better—always recounting the bear story and calling Janna her “bear rescuer.”

Janna became Krysteen’s ever-present shadow, and she lived like one. Krysteen dated all the boys; Janna was the quiet girl who never dated, for she was always pining for the oblivious Krysteen. Over the years, Krysteen told Janna all about her relationships: the kisses, the touching, the sex. Janna was terribly jealous, but she couldn’t dare to admit her feelings to Krysteen—until one night in college.

They were at a popular bar in Earth orbit, Krysteen getting drunk and Janna the invisible friend as always. Men hit on Krysteen constantly; a few made passes at Janna, but she always politely refused. Of course, she wasn’t into men; she’d only ever been with a few women—unsatisfying encounters borne of sexual frustration when she’d listened to Krysteen going at it with a man in the next room.

So when it appeared Krysteen was about to succumb to another such man, Janna finally snapped. In the midst of Krysteen telling the man how Janna was her “bear rescuer” from way back, Janna whispered to Krysteen to come to the ladies’ room with her.

“Can’t you see I’m about to score?” Krysteen said when they were alone.

“I know, but… please don’t,” Janna said. “I’ve watched you with too many men. I can’t take not telling you how I feel about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you noticed I’ve never dated?” Janna said, crying. “I’m attracted to women—but I only have feelings for one woman. I’m in love with you. I have been since we first met.”

Krysteen looked stunned for several long moments. Then she said, “You know I’m attracted to men, right?”

“I know.” Janna suddenly felt silly.

“If you were a man, things might be different,” Krysteen said. “But you’re not, so we have to remain friends.”

Krysteen staggered out of the ladies’ room, leaving Janna to cry alone. When she composed herself and came out, Krysteen was nowhere to be found; she’d taken the first shuttle back to Earth.

But Janna already had an idea.

*   *   *

The next day, Janna visited Gengineer, the finest genetic-engineering company on the planet. And when she finished that day, she headed to Krysteen’s dorm. When Krysteen opened the door, she beheld a handsome, muscular man standing there.

“It’s me—Janna,” Janna said. “I had a total body transformation done. I’m a man now—for you.”

Krysteen stared, wide-eyed and stunned. “What?”

“Yes,” Janna said, stepping forward, reaching out, clasping Krysteen’s shoulders in his hands, looking deep into her beautiful blue eyes. “I love you more than anything. I’ve done this so we can be together.”

Krysteen looked back into Janna’s eyes... and then broke out laughing.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she cried, wriggling free of Janna’s grip and staggering backward. “Are you crazy?”

Janna stared back, confused. “I don’t understand...”

“Of course not—you’ve never understood!” Krysteen howled. “It’s like you think I’ve owed you ever since that damn bear! You know, I’m pretty sure I could have stood up on my own, and I’m completely sure the android counselor would have blasted the bear before it could ever have hurt me, but you’ve always thought you were some kind of hero. I figured I’d never see you again—but you followed me to school and college like some little puppy dog. I’ve humored you all these years, and last night I told you things might be different if you were a man to make you feel better. Well, no more doing or saying anything just to make you feel better.”

Janna staggered back out the door. She couldn’t breathe. It couldn’t be true.

“You’re an idiot,” Krysteen said, shaking her head. “You actually had a total body transformation in the wild hope I’d forget who you really are and fall in love with you? That will never happen. I’d rather get eaten by that damn bear.”

Janna stood in the hallway as the door slammed shut in her face.

*   *   *

“So are you going back to your old self, or are you interested in a new female look?” asked the Gengineer technician.

“My old self,” Janna said. “But I’d like to become something else first.”

“Name it.”

Janna said, “Make me a bear.”

 

“Common Decency”
February 2015
Utopian/dystopian science fiction
By David M. Fitzpatrick

John stood naked before the full-length mirror, admiring his body. It was muscular and toned, rippling under the thin layer of fat beneath his skin. The nanobots did a great job keeping him in shape.

And, as always, he spent ample time looking at his penis, which hung halfway down his thigh. It was even more impressive when it got erect. He smiled at it. It was the simple things in life.

He reached his hands up to cup his breasts. They were soft and supple, in contrast to his rock-hard body. They felt perfect. He flicked fingers over his nipples and felt the sensation sizzle from there down to between his legs. He felt his penis stir a bit.

“Honey, come to bed,” Lydia said.

He turned to look at her, still holding the soft mounds of his breasts. She was on the bed, naked as he was, her own breasts beckoning him. Where he was cut muscle, she was soft curves.

“Stop admiring yourself,” she said with a playful grin. “If you’re going to get that thing excited, come do something with it.”

He grinned and headed for the bed. She laid back for him, parting her thighs to invite him. He climbed atop her, burying himself inside her, and they made furious love. The sex was wonderful, as it always was—a good twenty minutes of thrashing and flailing until they both exploded. He collapsed in exhaustion, feeling himself deflate within her. When they caught their breath, she said, “How about another round? I’ll do you this time.”

He rolled on his back, eager, and she climbed between his legs. He reached down to pull his package aside to reveal his vagina, even as she guided her growing penis towards him. But then he stopped her.

“Go easy,” he said. “You know...”

She laughed. “John, you’re only three months pregnant. The baby won’t be hurt. I promise.”

He smiled. “Just overly concerned, I guess.”

She furrowed her brow, sitting back on her calves. “It’s hard to imagine what it was like before people were converted,” she said. “Only the women having the babies, I mean. Or before men and women had all the same genitalia.”

“Never mind that—how about all the hatred and intolerance?” he said. “Gays couldn’t marry. People were ostracized for having the same genitals as their partners. No matter how often I read about it, I just can’t imagine anything more absurd.”

“Me either. I can’t imagine what it would be like to only have only one set of genitals.”

He sighed, clasping his hands behind his head. “The worst part is that people tended to base them on religious beliefs—of all things!”

“Crazy,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Look, I don’t want to rush you, but... get that thing inside me,” John said with a chuckle. “We have to be down to the town hall in an hour. Can you believe the case we’ll be judging today?”

“I know!” she cried, wide-eyed. “Can you even believe it? Bill Morrison wants to get a license to marry... Jane Carmichael!”

A look of disgust washed over John’s face. “All the advances we’ve made in science and society, and Bill Morrison wants to undo it. I mean, he was born with only male genitalia. And Mary was born with only female genitalia. All they have to do is undergo a simple nanoconversion and they could be normal.”

“They don’t want to,” Lydia said. “They said there’s—” she wrinkled her face up at this “—there’s nothing abnormal about them.”

“Well, it’s up to the townspeople, and I know I’m sure not going to let it happen.”

“Same here. I mean, there’s a limit to what we can allow in this world...”

 

“Chances”
March 2016
Dystopian future
by David M. Fitzpatrick

Alanna and the rest of the young adults gathered in the town square. There were several hundred women who had begun to bleed every month, and there were men who just a few short years before had voices that cracked and squeaked but now were bigger, stronger, and hairier.

Alanna’s heart beat faster with the approaching drawing. She knew it was hopeless. She knew that getting who she wanted was impossible, and she knew she’s hate whoever she ended up with. She didn’t care about her mandated duty to society.

The new women milled about on one side of the square, all wearing the same simple dresses. The new men were on the other side, wearing short pants and little else. Rippling muscles and handsome features caught the eyes of many of the new women, who craned their necks to see the male specimens. The men returned the ogling.

There were two more women than there were men this year. Alanna had become a woman just two years ago, a late bloomer, and her first two drawings had been thankfully lopsided, with significantly more men than women. It was close this year, and she knew she’d likely end up with a man she didn’t want—just as Leela likely would. The thought made her heart ache.

Finally, the seven elders came out of the houses and climbed the steps to the platform in the center of the square. Two of them, a man and a woman, carried buckets filled with scraps of paper. The elder woman was Leela’s grandmother. She looked displeased, as she always did.

“It is time for the drawing,” the Grand Elder announced, and the crowd grew silent. And with that, Leela’s grandmother and the male bearer held up the buckets, and the Grand Elder reached into each and drew scraps of paper. He held them up, side by side, and read them.

“Taylor MacDonald,” he announced, “and Edie Jensen.”

Taylor’s face broke into a broad smile. He was a strapping young man, all biceps and pectoral muscles, tanned by the sun from working the fields. Alanna searched the crowd until she found Edie, who was blushing with excitement. She was a petite thing with a small bust but the sort of hips fit for bearing children. Neither she nor Taylor had cared who they’d get, but they were both clearly pleased with the results.

The Grand Elder pulled out two more scraps, and Alanna’s heart pounded. She didn’t want her name called. She hoped against hope. She looked over the crowd, trying to find the face of her best friend.

“Christopher Jones,” the Grand Elder announced, “and Sally Brown.”

Alanna didn’t see Chris, who she knew to be a good-looking man, but she heard Sally break into sobs somewhere in the crowd. Sally had long been in love with Derek Childers, and had hoped that they might be paired. But the chances were far too slim for anyone’s dreams to come true. Not as hopeless as Alanna’s, of course, but quite hopeless.

As the Grand Elder found two new scraps, Alanna found Leela. She was across the way, and she seemed a lot calmer than Alanna had expected. Alanna shot her a quizzical look, but the girl with the long blond hair just grinned. How could she smile at a time like this? Leela tilted her head quickly toward her grandmother on the platform, and when Alanna followed she saw the old woman glaring at her granddaughter. What was that about?

The Grand Elder went on pulling names and pairing people up. There were lots of smiles but plenty of frowns. Some of the women cried, and their friends comforted them. Eventually, though, they all paired up with their drawings, the women now effectively the property of the men.

As the sun-baked afternoon wore on and the random couples were paired, Alanna heard neither her nor Leela’s name called, which meant the chances only grew greater with every passing drawing. Then again, mathematically speaking, the chances of she and Leela being the two who would not be drawn also increased, so there was that. Alanna squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go with some man she didn’t love, no matter what anyone said. She couldn’t pretend that the one she loved was out there, paired with someone else.

She felt Leela’s hand on her shoulder, and snapped her eyes open.

“You okay?” Leela whispered above the Grand Elder’s booming voice.

“No,” Alanna whispered back as the crowd murmured in approval of the announced pairing. “I can’t handle it. I don’t care—if they call my name I’ll refuse!”

“You can’t refuse—they’ll execute you for it. Besides,” she added in a soothing voice, laying a comforting hand on Alanna’s shoulder, “you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Finally, against all odds, it was down to the last man and just three women: Alanna, Leela, and a very young woman named Kaylee. Kaylee had just begun bleeding two months ago, and quite a young age. The man, Frederick, was ten years her senior. He had come from another village where the women had long outnumbered the men, and he’d long been unlucky and never been drawn. He’d come here in hopes of serving society—and landing a woman. He already looked excited, knowing that, no matter what, he’d land one in just a moment.

“Frederick Cameron,” said the Grand Elder, “and Kaylee Harper.”

Frederick shot his fists into the air and moved quickly to claim his prize. Kaylee looked stunned, as if she’d been hit in the head with a rock, and continued to look that way even as he wrapped a muscular arm around her. She’d been playing with dolls last year; now, as a woman, she had become the property of a new man, one who wasn’t her father, and tonight she’d begin doing her duty to society.

“That is all for the men,” the Grand Elder said. “We have two women who are unclaimed this year. We pray that next year they will be successful in the drawing. Now, if you are a drawn woman, your man’s home is your new home. Take his name, serve him well, and do your duty.”

Most of the men were over-eager—as was evident by the behavior, if not the tenting of their short pants. Many of the women were as eager, but most wore blank expressions and many were visibly unhappy. Several were crying. The men all wrapped arms about their prizes and led them away like cattle to their barns. The town square cleared out quickly as the elders descended the platform and the married adults and children dispersed. Alanna and Leela stayed together, watching the dispersal, and when Leela’s grandmother walked by with her bucket, the angry look she shot the pair was so harsh that Alanna almost felt as if the old woman had punched her in the gut.

“Come on!” Leela hissed after the elders had passed, and she hurried off through the milling crowd for the forest. Alanna followed, and soon they were away from the commotion, far outside of town, alone under the old oak tree where they had come to play since they were kids.

“What luck!” Alanna cried. “What are the chances that both of us would not be drawn?”

“It wasn’t luck,” Leela said, her eyes sparkling blue beneath her blond hair. When she smiled, her cheeks puffed out and made her look even prettier. “I told you I took care of things. My grandmother arranged it for us. Our names were never in the bucket.”

Alanna’s eyes widened. “She disapproved of us—but she cheated, and risked execution?”

“I cried about it enough to Grammie, and she loves me too much, no matter her beliefs.”

Leela moved to her, took Alanna’s hand, and pressed up against her. The feel of the girl’s soft breasts squishing against her own was exhilarating, and when Leela leaned in, Alanna muckled on to her lips. The lovers kissed, hands sliding around bodies to caress and then to hug. They broke the kiss and tightened their embrace.

But finally Alanna couldn’t handle it, and she began crying. Leela pulled away. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“We can’t do this forever,” Alanna said. “Eventually, they’ll pair us with men. Why can’t they just let people decide who they want to be with? And why should anyone be forced to repopulate a world people destroyed in the first place? And why should we be executed for loving each other?”

Leela smiled and stroked Alanna’s black hair with a soft hand. “It’s ridiculous, but that’s what we’re stuck with. And that’s why we need to leave. They do things differently in other towns. If we travel far enough, maybe we’ll find one that will accept us.”

The sun was setting, and the air was sweet as a breeze blew the scent of nearby wildflowers over them. Alanna and Leela sat beneath their old tree, wrapped up in each other’s arms, and immersed themselves in their love.

“I wonder what it was like before the world ended,” Alanna said. “I bet two women could be in love and nobody cared.”

“Maybe, but I’m sure hate and intolerance were around long before we almost destroyed ourselves.”

They were quiet for a while, and finally Alanna said, “Let’s do it. Let’s take all we can carry and leave.”

Leela’s eyes widened. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Anything to be with you. Anything to love you. Anything to spend my life with you and not have to hide it from everyone. If the world must be reborn, it must do so with more than just new children. It needs new ideas, new acceptance, new understanding.”

Leela kissed her. “This is part of why I love you so much.”

They spent the night together under their tree, making love there one last time, and eager for what awaited beyond.

 

“Here I Am”
April 2016
Science fiction
by David M. Fitzpatrick

“We’ve been best friends for twenty years,” John said.

“That’s part of why I’ve fallen in love with you,” Brian replied.

They sat on opposite sides of John’s wobbly table. The kitchen was bare, since Jenny had taken most of the girly decorations when she’d moved out—and, really, most of the other stuff that used to be in the kitchen.

John grabbed his head with his hands. “Jesus, man. I’m straight. You’ve always known that. You were there in college when I had all those women in our dorm room, through all the dating in our apartment, and through my three miserable marriages.”

“And I’m gay, and you’ve always known that,” Brian said. “I was in love with you back in college. It was tough to accept that you weren’t gay… and listen to you with all those women in your bed. But I was always your friend first.”

“Then why are you doing this now?” John’s head was spinning.

“Don’t play stupid, buddy,” Brian said, leaning back in his chair. “You had to know I’ve always had it for you.”

“I figured you just had the gay hots for me. You know, like a straight guy with a platonic female friend still thinks about banging her.”

“Well, there is that. But a gay man can’t have purely sexual thoughts about a guy who is also his best friend for too long before it feels like something more.”

John sighed. “And you choose now, when my wife has just left, and another divorce is imminent, to lay this on me?”

They sat in a long silence. John couldn’t even look at him. It was all too awkward.

“Tell me this,” Brian finally said. “Let’s say you woke up tomorrow and were suddenly gay. Would I be the type of partner that would make sense?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?”

“You know the old joke about straight guys—that it would be easy if they were gay, because they like sports and have the same interests and all that. So if you suddenly turned gay—if suddenly you developed a sexual attraction to men—would I be someone you’d consider beyond the sex? Someone who you could love.”

John looked at him with mouth agape. “You’re my best friend, Brian. You know I love you. Just not that way.”

Brian flushed with frustration. “Think of it this way: The only difference between a best friend and a lover is sex. And you’ve had three wives who haven’t been particularly good best friends.”

John sighed. “The reason I’ve had three shitty wives is because I’ve been a sucker for fantastic pussy, but it’s always attached to horrible bitches. So, okay, if I woke up gay—yeah, you’d probably be my dream date. But that isn’t going to happen—ever.”

He could see the hurt on Brian’s face, and he felt bad, but Brian had to know that this would be his reaction.

“You know I’ve always said I should have been born a woman,” Brian said, his eyes wet with tears. “I wish I had been.”

“But you weren’t,” John said, probably harsher than he meant to. “You’re a man. Best friend or not, I can never get past that.”

*   *   *

John was watching football a few nights later when he heard his door open. Either Jenny was coming back to get more of her things, or it was Brian, who had a spare key. And then he heard the high heels clacking on the kitchen floor, and his heart sank. Even with the bombshell Brian had dropped on him, John would much rather have had him show up than that bitch.

He tried to ignore her as she walked into the living room and stood, hands on her hips, to his right. He stared at the TV and pretended that she wasn’t there, but he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She was wearing a short skirt that showed off her legs and a tank top bulging with breasts…

But he knew Jenny’s tits quite well after five years. Those weren’t hers. Did the bitch actually get new tits her first week away? He snapped his head about, ready to bark at her, but stopped cold.

It wasn’t Jenny.

“Here I am,” the strange woman said, and her voice was somehow familiar…

John’s eyes widened. “Brian?”

She was a knockout, with a slim waist, broad hips, and big breasts—the kind John used to love back in those college days, but that he hadn’t enjoyed since his first marriage. She had Brian’s brown hair, but it was long and wavy and full of volume around her shoulders. Her heart-shaped face was done up with makeup, and she smiled at him.

“It’s me,” she said, and the voice was definitely a woman’s voice but somehow it sounded like Brian. “You can call me Brianna now. It isn’t just window dressing, John; I went to one of those conversion places. Everything has been changed at the genetic level. DNA, chromosomes… and, of course, the window dressing. Bone structure, musculature… I even got big boobs, just the way I know you like them. And, hey, bonus feature,” she added, pointing at what was behind her skirt, “I’ve got a virgin pussy going on under here.”

John’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider. “What… what the hell did you do? You’re… a gay man, Brian.”

“Not anymore. Now I’m a straight woman. They didn’t do anything to my brain, John. I’ve always been the woman in my relationships—you know that. I’ve always been the effeminate, receptive partner. I like big, strong men. I prefer being banged instead of banging. Woman trapped in a man’s body, John. So nothing about who I am has changed—not in the way that matters. I just made myself into who I really am.”

John was frozen. He didn’t know what to say, what to do.

“I love you,” Brianna said, “and I hope I can be someone that you love. And if all that matters is that you’re attracted to women, then this should do it. And judging from what’s going on in the front of your sweatpants, I’m guessing that it’s working.”

John blushed and adjusted himself. Brian—Brianna—was definitely one hot package. A flood of emotions rushed over him, and it bought with it waves of memories: football games, nights in bars, fishing trips, hiking excursions, motorcycle treks, and just always being there whenever one of them needed the other.

Maybe Brianna was right. Maybe the difference between being friends and being lovers was just the sex.

“This is the strangest thing that has ever happened to me,” John said.

“Think how I feel. I have breasts and a vagina, and my penis is gone.”

Brianna sashayed into the living room, hips swaying her skirt, and John couldn’t stop looking at the tank top that her breasts were straining against. “So what do you say? Have I earned the chance to experiment?”

She swung a leg up, and settled on her knees on the couch, straddling his lap, her slim hands on his chest, and leaned in until her lips were so close that John could feel her breath. He felt his erection jamming into her soft spot.

“Give me one night,” she whispered. “Make love with me. If that doesn’t convince you, I’ll be just your friend forever.”

John felt himself trembling, felt his erection straining against his sweatpants, and he knew that there was no way he could resist the primal urge.

And in that moment, it suddenly seemed utterly right.

He took his best friend into his arms and kissed her.

 

David M. Fitzpatrick is a fiction writer in Maine, USA. His many short stories have appeared in print magazines and anthologies around the world. He writes for a newspaper, writes fiction, edits anthologies, and teaches creative writing. Visit him at www.fitz42.net/writer to learn more.