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Julie stood outside the home she and Bedazzle had rented together, her heart pounding like it had on their very first date. She told herself she was being ridiculous. They loved each other. They lived together, for God’s sake! What was there to be anxious about?
But she couldn’t deny her racing heart or the soda pop fizz of her nerves. Sure, they lived together, but it wasn’t like they’d dated for years and then moved in. They’d been that lesbian cliché of the second date being a moving van. (It had been the eleventh date, a moving van, and a horse trailer, but close enough.)
The fact was, their relationship was new. The fact was, they’d fallen hard for each other and made a leap into the blue without ever really dealing with things they probably should have discussed first, but had instead waved aside with “We love each other, we’ll work it out.”
Here we go, Julie thought. Working it out. I hope.
She unlocked the door. “Honey, I’m home!”
The familiar clatter of Bedazzle’s hooves on the floor made Julie’s heart beat even faster, with a joy so intense it was halfway to terror. How had she ever gotten this lucky? Was this all too good to last?
And then Bedazzle’s laugh was filling the room and echoing off the rafters, and next thing Julie knew, she was in her girlfriend’s arms. Julie luxuriated in Bedazzle’s strong arms enfolding her, in her soft breasts pressing against hers, the heat of her lips, the silky touch of her hair and the slightly coarser texture of her smooth coat… the everything of her.
Julie looked at her girlfriend, marveling anew at her beauty. Bedazzle’s human half was built on a grand scale—tall, Juno-esque, with muscles worthy of an Amazon and breasts worthy of the Venus of Willendorf. Her smooth skin was lightly freckled, her big hands callused from her work as a carpenter, and her black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her horse half was the black mare of Julie’s childhood dreams, her coat shining like obsidian, her hooves polished, her every line pure equine magnificence.
“How was the office?” Bedazzle inquired, her dark eyes glimmering with a teasing light.
“Oh, same old same old,” Julie replied. “My boss thinks us secretaries are just there to make him coffee and fix the Xanax machine.”
“Xerox,” Bedazzle corrected her. “Xanax is the anti-anxiety drug.”
“Oh, right,” Julie said. “I think all those people could’ve used Xanax machines.”
They both laughed. They’d met at an outdoor classic TV festival, but Bedazzle was more of a fan than Julie.
“What’ve you got?” Bedazzle made a playful grab for the pamphlet Julie was holding. At least, Julie thought it was just supposed to be playful. But with her longer reach, she had it in her hand before Julie could react.
And then it was right there, out in the open and literally between them:
SHE’S A CENTAUR, SHE’S A HUMAN: HEALTHY, HAPPY, AND HOT INTERSPECIES SEX
“Oh,” said Bedazzle. For once, her voice sounded small.
“If you don’t want to…” Julie began.
“No, no, I want to. I just…” She ran her fingers through her hair and swished her tail, then let out a nervous chuckle. “I feel like a virgin again!”
“Me too,” said Julie.
“Well, let’s be shy virgins together,” said Bedazzle. She laughed again, this time more confidently. “It’s guaranteed to be better than the first time!”
Julie laughed as well. She too was feeling more secure. “True. At least this time we’re not fucking guys to convince ourselves we're straight.”
More seriously, Bedazzle said, “In a way, it’ll be a chance to have a do-over. Maybe it’ll still be weird and awkward, but at least this time we’ll be making love, not just having sex. And we know how our bodies work—I mean, each of us knows how our own body works—and we’re doing it because we want to, not to prove a point.”
“And with someone incredibly hot who we love,” Julie said. “Not with the first guy we could grab.”
“Exactly.”
They headed to the living room, where Bedazzle settled herself on the floor and Julie pulled over the nearest floor cushion so she could lean up against her. With their bodies pressed close together, they began reading the pamphlet.
They dutifully read through the parts about consent and not pressuring yourself or others, then flipped the page to get to the good stuff.
SO HOW DO YOU DO IT, ANYWAY?
They both gazed in awed silence at the diagrams, then burst into giggles.
“I feel so boring,” gasped Bedazzle. “I’ve never had sex with that much stuff. They’ve got, what, ice cubes and nipple clamps and porn and blindfolds and a butt plug and two vibrators and lube and a curry comb and… what IS that thing?”
“An egg separator?”
Bedazzle shrugged. “What I want to know is why she’s got her ear on her girlfriend’s stomach while she’s feeling for her clit. She looks like a burglar trying to open a safe.”
“She’s searching for her safe word,” Julie suggested.
Bedazzle groaned appreciatively, then thwacked Julie over the head with the pamphlet. “Still… the ridiculous number of props aside, what do you think of the ideas? Apart from the sling.”
“Why apart from the sling?” Julie protested. “I’m sure our landlord wouldn’t mind us completely remodeling the apartment and possibly caving in the ceiling to create the perfect cross-species sex dungeon.”
Bedazzle poked her in the ribs. “Seriously, what do you think?”
Julie studied the diagrams again, then pointed. “Is it comfortable for you to lie on your side?”
“Sure,” Bedazzle replied. “That one would actually work great with you. I couldn’t do it with another centaur. Too many hooves.”
The heat of desire was rising in Julie, sending shivers up and down her spine… and lower down. “Then I like that one.”
“Me too.” Bedazzle’s voice, always sexily low, had dropped half an octave. It made Julie want to rip her clothes off. “Want a ride?”
Julie never could resist that invitation. It was so intimate, and such a beautiful show of trust and love. She sat on Bedazzle’s back. Her coat was smooth between Julie’s thighs, her body warm and solid. She threw her arms around Bedazzle’s chest, and her girlfriend twisted to kiss her.
Together they trotted into the bedroom.