Yesterday I promised to hide a copy of Alison Tyler's "Nine-to-Five Fantasies" somewhere in Toronto's Financial District. Well, I did it today! It's done! And now I'll tell you where it is/was (not sure if someone's scooped it up yet--it was pretty well-hidden).
I hid my signed copy of Nine-to-Five Fantasies in a big black newspaper box on the northeast corner of Bay and King. Know what I mean? It's one of those huge multi-paper boxes that's about the size of a freight train. Okay, not quite, but I put the book in the bottom left cubby thingy. It's unlocked.
It could still be there. Who knows? Not me, or I'd tell you. Have a look tomorrow morning if you work in the downtown core. You could be the lucky recipient of a free book of workplace erotica! Lucky you! I wouldn't normally leave erotica lying around, but there aren't that many impressionable youths wandering around the financial district--trust me, I worked there for about three weeks in my twenties.
Anyway, good luck to all and if you're reading this because you've already found the book and you're wondering who the hell Giselle, HI! You found me.
While we're on the topic, I wrote a short story about the financial district a few years ago. Think I should post it here? Yeah, of course I should:
Little Lamb on Bay Street
by Giselle Renarde
Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow.
Well, she didn’t actually have a lamb; that fluff-ball was a hypo-allergenic bichon called Gopher. And she certainly wasn’t a shepherdess, but she did have a penchant for blue gingham. She wore that silly frock over so many layers of crinoline she looked like some kind of hillbilly ballerina. It was the bonnet that really gave her outfit an air of authenticity, though.
It was Mary’s own fault that people stared, but all the attention made her girlfriend Katia very uncomfortable. There was no way to beat Mary, so she might as well join the girl in dressing like a total freak. Anyway, lesbians were invisible, especially in public. Especially in pairs.
Bright and early Monday morning, Mary stood at the corner of Bay and King, deep in the wilds of the business jungle. Suits all blended together, a blur of grey and blue and black. Against this seething backdrop, Katia approached. The smile on Mary’s lips made it all worthwhile.
“Peter Pan? Really? You’re such a queer,” teased the hillbilly ballerina, setting Gopher down so she could grab Katia’s ass.
“Well…yeah!” costumed Katia replied. “I wouldn’t be out there fucking girls if I were straight.”
“What girls have you been ‘out there’ fucking?” a quite contrary Mary pouted. “I thought you loved me…”
Katia rolled her eyes as a windstorm of business drones pushed past. “You and you alone.”
Amidst the crowds on Bay Street, Peter Pan pulled her little shepherdess close and kissed her pink lips, swollen with anticipation. Soft tongues mingled ferociously. Katia slid a naughty hand between her lover’s thighs and met damp cotton panties. Mary was wet just waiting for her to arrive, and Katia pressed her palm against that hot mound, stroking, rubbing, teasing.
The sea of suits parted for them, like they weren’t even there. Like they didn’t exist. But Gopher’s leash caught somebody’s ankle, and there was a shriek and a muffled growl and a “Get your dog out of the way!”
Giggling, Mary pulled Katia against the rough brick of the nearest building. The girls resumed their kiss while Gopher looked away, as if to give them privacy. Katia took the opportunity to get her hand back in between Mary’s soft-as-satin thighs. No, that wasn’t enough. She needed that wetness against her fingers, and dug inside her girlfriend’s cotton panties, finding unimaginable heat down there.
And juice! God, her girl had the juiciest pussy in the city, and Katia plunged her fingers up inside that hot, wet slit, fucking it slowly, savouring the sloppy squelching sounds it made with every pass.
“Mmm-hmmm!” Mary squealed without breaking away from their kiss. “Mmmm!”
Katia knew what her sweet girl liked, and gave it again and again, getting her fingers all wet in there, and then pulling them out to slather Mary’s clit with her very own juice. Mary arched against the wall and groaned, spreading her legs to give Katia better access to that fat clit. Who knows how long Mary had been aroused before Katia arrived? The girl was always ready, or so it seemed.
Slapping her favourite girl’s pussy, Katia sucked Mistress Mary’s tongue. They writhed together against the wall while Katia slammed her whole palm against Mary’s engorged clit, making the girl yelp.
Rough now, rubbing that nub, really going at it, summoning the orgasm lying in wait.
Oh, it was close. Katia could taste it on Mary’s tongue, and she just kept stroking that pussy, then fucking it fast, stroking and fucking in alternation, anything to make Mary come.
Amidst the morning rush, Peter Pan scoured the shepherdess’ clit. They were green and blue amidst a sea of drab, devouring one another, embracing with a sizzling sort of heat most of these high finance zombies wouldn’t know if it bit them on the ass. Mary knew it, and moaned into Katia’s mouth as her orgasm came on strong.
Oh, there was no other moment like this. Money couldn’t buy the pleasure of making a beautiful young woman come so hard she could barely stand, and doing it in public, right there on a city sidewalk.
Nobody on Bay Street batted an eye.
***
This post has been brought to you by my latest short story collection, Getting It On The Go: Gay Public Sex Stories
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