Still Queer - short story

Still Queer

She’s been with him for three years, which means it’s been three years since she was with a woman. He’s sleeping now, snoring lightly. She runs her fingers over his back. She likes how broad it is. She likes the hair. It is a masculine back, and she loves its masculinity. But she loved her back too.

Her back was brown, and soft, and smaller than her own. When she ran her hands over her back, it was arousing to think that there were two small breasts on the other side of it. That if she reached across and over the side, she would brush against one of them. 

It was novel, in the beginning, to be with someone more petite than she was, and it first it made her feel huge. Frumpy, and unfeminine, as if the presence of another woman in her bed had somehow transformed her into a man. But she settled into it. She loved the feel of her small, curvy body, how she could encase it in her own, and how they were not Big Spoon and Little Spoon but just two spoons, equal, partnered, with no assumptions, no defaults, and everything to be negotiated.