Being a female author I somehow managed to write this bestseller containing bits and pieces like “I was lying in bed in our shared flat, reading a book, when somebody knocked at my door. I answered with a “yes” and my housemate Trish sneaked in. She was in her nearly see-through nightdress. With her very female and cat like movements she closed the door silently and turned around the lock of my door. Then she came over and stood in the middle of my room whilst I was putting my book and my glasses aside. I asked her what the matter was. She said, ‘May I ask you a question, Elisa? Do you find me attractive?’ While I was wondering whether this was one of those typical conversations between women but couldn’t figure it quite out she suddenly dropped her nightdress and stood there, still in the middle of my room, in her battle dress, completely naked. I couldn’t help myself and began to stare, not this shocked way of staring but more of this I-don’t-know-what’s-happening way of staring. My eyes wandered from her pretty face with the deep brown eyes down her cheekbone, passing her sensual lips, her throat, her well formed breasts, her slim waist, her hips and her seemingly endless legs to her toes, then up again until they stopped somewhere between her breasts and her mound of Venus, indecisive where to stay. She looked at me quizzically and said ‘So?’ After I finally could convince my eyes to lift their glance from her body to her face again I stuttered, ‘Ehm, yes, of course you are attractive and you should know that! Why do you ask me that?’ Whilst speaking my mouth got dry and I had to swallow several times. Trish smiled, wetted her lips and slowly moved forward from the middle of the room towards my bed where I was still half lying, half sitting, unable to move. While she was moving she became even more attractive to me, the seductive way she moved her hips when walking through the dim light of my bedside lamp, the shadows on her breasts and her shiny lips made my body shiver. Finally she stood close to my bed and took my hand, putting it on her rips. My hands couldn’t help themselves and I had to let them run from her rips over her waist, everything very gently and carefully as if I could not only break her fragile body but as if the moment could break as well. When my hands reached her breasts she shivered a bit and when they began to move slowly downwards she started bending over towards me, breathing heavily, her hands running through my curly hair and when I finally reached the velvet part between her legs, her lips reached my mouth and…” and so forth and so forth.
So, well, as I said before, it became a bestseller and now everybody was wondering whether this was a kind of autobiographical text referring to experiences I have had in my life mixed up with my innermost desires or if it was only my experience or only my desires or if I just stole from some books, movies and porn. The tabloids and magazines, internet forums and morning shows on TV were full of discussions whether I was bisexual, a lesbian or had some undisclosed desires. Up to that one Friday evening I never answered these questions but one week ago I let my manager give the announcement that I will give an answer to these seemingly omnipresent questions in the Friday Night Late Show. So after having talked about my success, the bestseller and all that standard stuff I could feel the tension not only in the audience but seemingly everywhere, a whole audience across the country or maybe across the world was waiting for my answer after the show master had asked me “So, what was it that made you write this book which is now a bestseller? Was it some experience you have had in your life, so is it autobiographical or is it some undisclosed desire you were only able to express in writing? I bet many of your readers would like to know whether you are a lesbian or bisexual to know whether they would have chances to ask you out.” He winked and tried to raise tension and attention. “So, Mia More, will you give us the answer to the question we are all so deeply interested in, what was it that made you write this book?”
I smiled. I opened my mouth, everybody held their breath.
I said: “It was a simple fact that made me write this book: Sex sells.”
Gina Laventura © 2012
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