Bam! It hit me like a ton of bricks when Nicole* rolled up on the dance floor NYE-eve—if bricks are actually Cupid’s playthings and gave you the warmest, fuzziest feelings inside. We’d been friends for five years, and seeing their recent drag king foray on IG had certainly given me butterflies down there—but seeing them present masculine IRL?! Whole new ballgame.
I’d been on the prowl all night, excited to be in a lesbian bar with mostly femmes and thems even though I hadn’t hit it off with anyone yet. Nicole was late to the party and made an epic entrance, literally jumping onto the dance floor in a way that left my internal monologue screaming, “It’s Nicole.” As in, oh my freaking gosh, it’s been Nicole for me this whole time. It was one of those rare instances when I just knew there was no stopping the whirlwind romance about to unfold, and I’m not even embarrassed to say I felt myself falling in love in an instant.
He (Nicole is AFAB, non-binary and uses they/she/he pronouns interchangeably), wore all black. Decked out in combat boots, wide-leg jeans, and a glittery bodysuit with a men’s button-up open over top, it was the perfect combination of sartorial androgyny to soak the panties of this queerdo (points to self). I immediately wanted him. Correction: needed him. Everything and everyone in the bar faded away as I watched Nicole’s perfect dirty-blonde hair bounce in slow motion, the disco ball above casting dreamy reflections off his metallic eyeliner. Absolute swoon. I had to make sure I wasn’t literally drooling.
“I’m really feeling Nicole! But the friendship—what do I do?!” I whisper-yelled into our mutual friend Scarlett’s* ear later in the night. I’d never made moves on a platonic friend and was worried I’d ruin what we had.
After a brief moment of processing, Scarlett soft-shouted back, “I can’t believe I’ve never thought of this before—it’s so hot! Go for it!” Then she grabbed our other friend Jasmine* and left to “go to the bathroom,” obviously departing to give us some privacy.
Gulping down my fear of rejection with a sip of my drink, I turned to Nicole and opened my mouth to charm her. But as we locked eyes, the only thing that came out was, “Uh, do you have to use the restroom too?” Ugh, instant fumble (smdh to this day).
“Not really, but we can go stand in line with them!” she politely obliged.
My heart pounded out of my chest as I grabbed her outstretched hand, secretly relishing in her touch as we fought through the crowd on the way to the loo. Suddenly I flashed back to just an hour earlier, when the four of us had stepped outside to share a joint and lament our failed pickup attempts of yore. Nicole’s words now reverberated through my head:
“Hey, all that matters is you tried. You gotta shoot your shot.”
It was time to shoot mine. Seconds before reaching the bathroom line, I gave her hand a tug so she’d turn around and face me.
“Umm, actually Nicole, I think they’re giving us space because I wanna dance with you….”
I wish you could see the look that washed over her then. Surprised—and pleasantly so. I believe her exact words were, “Oh! Let’s hit it then!”
With bellies full of butterflies we headed back out on the dance floor, just the two of us, bursting into a spontaneous combustion of hips, lips, and grinding like middle schoolers without a chaperone (but with actual rhythm). Nicole was behind me, wrapping as much of themself around me as they could while vertical and nibbling on my ear. And the next moment, we both felt something….
Unfortunately, what we felt was my diamond earring falling to the floor!
My sugar submissive had just gotten me a set of stunning diamond studs for Christmas and here I was losing one in my lesbian lustfest. But luckily we weren’t in just any bar—we were in a queer bar, which meant everyone around us was super nice and incredibly helpful. We got down on the ground, the whole crowd making room and shining their phone flashlights to aid in the search for the missing gem. When I found it a few minutes later, we all erupted in cheers. Talk about a rush on top of a rush!
Nicole and I shifted to the outskirts and got the earring safely back in my ear, then paused for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes before mutually diving in for our first, victorious kiss. Correction: our first ferocious makeout session. Our chemistry was unmatched—like, putting all the men I’ve dated in the past to shame, unmatched.
When Scar and Jas returned, they were very happy to see their plan had worked. Not thirty minutes later, I was excusing Nicole and myself from the party.
“Sooo, I met this really cute guy,” I teased, “and I need to take him home right the fuck now.”
I called us an Uber Black, stealing kisses and ass grabs back and forth while we waited.
“Woah,” Nicole exclaimed halfway home.“I almost didn’t come out tonight.” We could both feel how special this was as we imagined a less-fortunate alternate reality.
Back at my place, I skipped giving her the official tour in favor of a kick-your-shoes-off-and-meet-me-immediately-on-the-couch-so-I-can-tear-you-apart welcoming. I put all my weight on top of her as I pushed my hips against hers, my tongue gently slipping across her lips.
“I haven’t been doing fluid exchange with anyone, but I really want to go down on you,” I said moments later, salivating.
“Same, and I’d really like that.”
There was a built-in trust since I’d known Nicole for so long—a feeling of comfort and safety that, wow, the dating app life just does not give you. As I kneeled in front of her, sliding off her jeans, she chimed in:
“If you see any little black dots, it’s because I just did a coffee scrub earlier.”
LMAO—only with another AFAB! I was in heaven.
“Perfect, if I eat any of those it’ll just give me more energy to take you.”
And speaking of perfect, Nicole’s pussy was. I think it’s safe to say that, given my past decade of sex work and polyamory, I am indeed a cock and cunt connoisseur—and her’s, my friends, was my instant favorite. So inviting, smooth and soft with a French strip and come-get-me lips. I dove in head first, no need to come up for air because why breathe when you can devour?
Once she was juicy enough to receive a finger easily without lube, I licked my pointer and slowly pushed myself in. Mmm, fucking delightful. I went back to gently sucking her clit as I upped my tempo, making a come hither motion inside of her.
“Is it okay if I just lose myself down here? I’m so into you.”
I’d find out later those words were exactly what Nicole’s sometimes-shy-to-cum self needed to hear to fully lose themself. I felt their build cascading toward a peak as they squirmed beneath me, running out of breath and the ability to stay on this side of their own edge.
“Oh my God, I’m cumming! Ughhh, GG!” They screamed, gracing me with a mention of my name that felt entirely unfamiliar (I’m accustomed to nameless, kinky dirty talk), intimate, and most welcome.
There is nothing like feeling a lover come while you’re inside them, and Nicole’s explosion was next level—every jolt of electricity she sent out, I picked up as if we were both powered by her climactic charge. When she regained composure, I saw the look in her eyes shift—no longer my NB bb, but a lion about to attack, satisfied and fueled up to fuck me good.
“Get up.” She meant business. “Go to your room.” I wasn’t about to disobey!
Stripping off my tube top and metallic pants along the way, I found myself naked at her mercy in my bed, legs spread and eyes wide, watching as she kissed her way down to my cunt.
“Holy shit,” I let out, appreciating the natural knack people with the same body parts as me seem to have at going down.
It was like she was everywhere at once: her hands on my tits, her tongue in my pussy, her entire being plastered across my brain like a “girls girls girls” sign in the red light district.
Somewhere throughout the night we had chatted about a recent adventure of mine where my 6’7” Dutch lover made me squirt for the first time ever. I told her the technique he’d employed to repetitively hit my spongy spot inside and how I’d learned to relax and let go enough to sploosh. Nicole was inspired.
“Turn over, good girl.”
I did as they said, offering up my ass and pussy for full access. Starting slowly, they slid one finger in, then the next, checking to make sure I didn’t want more or less.
“That’s just right,” I moaned, allowing my pelvic floor to release.
They picked up their pace inside as I added my own hand, lightly rubbing my clit. I could feel myself wanting to tense in the typical, masculine-energy way of striving towards a climax. Relax, just relax, I told myself. Let them take you all the way.
“I’m close,” I squealed between whatever they were saying that was hitting my praise kink as much as my physical sweet spot.
And then came the key moment: the invisible dam inside me trembling to stay strong while I mentally told it to go weak. Nicole kept her percussive penetration steady, not too fast or too hard, but repetitive and precise until I had absolutely no hope—the dam had to break.
Gushhhh. A huge, warm rush swept over my entire body, almost breaking me out in a cold sweat. I was squirting! It was vulnerable. And hot. And so very wet—how it’d feel if you spilled warm tea in your lap. Kind of wrong, but intuitively right.
When I came to, I almost couldn’t believe it had happened again. But sure enough, we looked down and saw a perfect circle of wetness in the sheets—a proud puddle of our own making. We giggled in amazement at what we’d accomplished—on night freaking one together, no less.
The next night was actual NYE and we both canceled our plans to make room for each other (and for—you better believe it—more squirting). Then we kept making room, ending up in the most rewarding partnership I’ve called home to date and proving my lightning bolt realization that we would fall in love that night 100 percent right.
Ultimately, though, our love could only carry us through a matter of months as a pair. But all is not lost—Nicole will no doubt remain a lifelong friend, and hopefully one that continues to soak my sheets every now and then when the stars align.
*Name has been changed.
GG Sauvage is a writer and all-around artist on a mission to f*ck shame away and empower people with self-love. She designed The Sexiest Deck Alive: Erotic Oracle Cards to Turn You On & Help You Turn the Corner, co-hosts the Basic Witches podcast, and wrote the audio drama Sex and the Synchronicity. See her work at Refinery29, Vogue Italia, Vulture, CollegeHumor, and WhoHaHa, and check out her website for more!
