Discovering fanfiction is an important part of lesbian adolescence. However, it is an entirely secret one. Every lesbian you know has read some, even if they claim not to.
Some may even write it. Though if you try and ask a lesbian about it outright you’ll get nothing but an impassive stare. Catch one off guard and they’ll feign ignorance but it’s a rote response often paired with an incriminating blush.
If you’re lucky enough to corner someone in such a compromising position block the exits: she’s desperate to go purge her browsing history.
But why all the cageyness? What’s there to be secretive about?
Reading fanfiction is like admitting you watch porn. It’s a private pursuit not far off from masturbation: furtive, indulgent and entangled in intense feelings of sexual frustration.
Like porn it’s largely low quality and made by people who know their way around hammy innuendo but unlike porn it’s made by girls for girls.
It caters to the often-neglected needs of women eager to get off. For teenage girls squirming in their bedcovers at the slightest tremor of a passing lorry, fanfiction is a window into what sex is like – or at least what you imagine it’s like.
Reality turns out to be far scarier, messier but infinitely more rewarding. However, as a fledgling virgin it’s all you have and you covet it like a boy would covet their first porno magazine.
No one writes television shows, films or books about feelings you have as a young girl who wants to rub up against other girls so instead you begin picking Sapphic crumbs from the straightest of places.
If a platonic look lingers a bit too long you’re on it like a rabid lesbo pigeon. There are no such things as accidental touches between your favourite female screen stars. Everything is deliberate and designed specifically to reveal that there are other people in this hidden universe where women are more than friends and desperate to fuck each other.
And, internet connection permitting, you realise you are definitely not alone. Hundreds of girls are also flapping about the minutest but nonetheless life-affirming detail. You watch together in shared anonymity, hoping for that for one moment your fevered imaginings will become real and explicit, and when you think you’ll finally get to see some actual action - not the stuff you’ve cobbled together in your fifteen year old brain – Willow blows the candle out and plunges you into perpetual darkness. For fuck sake! So close!
But it’s okay because other people are pissed off and horny, namely one person who’s taken it upon herself to write fanfiction in which she describes what you all know will happen next. She too thinks that the next logical steps involve dueling tongues and lip biting. It’s a battle for dominance. The touches start off tentative then turn forceful till they’re passionately pounding their way towards climax, which will inevitably be topped off with a perfectly sychronised joint orgasm so intense that both parties black out afterwards.
Of course the whole torrid affair is wonderfully romantic because let’s face it you’re still a girl. Essentially that’s what you’re into. That’s what really matters. You’re not a rabid teenage boy fast forwarding through all the boring parts and straight to the nudity. Please. That is so beneath you. Fanfiction is about sex and feelings. It’s a completely healthy and grown up way of working through your teenage preoccupations of having sex with the same sex.
It’s nothing to be secretive about.
Not that I read fanfiction anyway. I don’t know anything about it. A friend mentioned it in passing. I’ve never touched the stuff myself.
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