In the Queer Issue, Patrick Tesh writes about the sex he had in Bellevue once:

Actually, it's a tad unfair to call what we did fucking. The kind of sex we had was brand new to me at the time. The intercourse I experienced in that Bellevue condo was slow, deliberate, Meryl Streep-ish. This guy seemed so... gentle. And sweet. And for the life of me, I couldn't muss up his hair no matter how hard I ran my hands through it.

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And Susie Bright writes a fantasy about Sarah Palin:

Sarah smiled, winking at me. I winked back. She winked even more warmly. We stood in the foyer winking at each other. "Doesn't it feel good to wink?" Sarah said, holding one down for the count.

"There is strength in women's winking," I said, wishing for more mascara.

I could hardly discern what Sarah was wearing, each star and stripe on her designer flag sweats blended so expertly into the next—against the Betsy Ross decor of her little cottage, she was almost invisible! How modest.

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