Miel Rose’s Overflow: Tales of Butch-Femme Love, Sex, and Desire had me in its grasp from the get-go. Anything dealing with butch/femme will inevitably draw me in. But Overflow is a whole lot more than just a catchy title with a pretty cover. It Delivers. (Capitalized because this book delivers in a major way.)
The book’s namesake was one of my favorites–all witchy and woo…right up my alley. There was also how it opened with talk of acupuncture and the pericardium. I happen to have a heart condition that affects this very same protective layer, so it spoke to me on a variety of levels. But no matter the state of your heart, you’ll undoubtedly find something that works in this story. It quickly heats up, tugging on more than just your heartstrings.
“My cunt was all fire and water, burning and sloppy wet. Her fingers drummed against the roof of my pussy and I was getting lightheaded from the lack of air and the overwhelming feeling that if I didn’t come soon I might explode. Tarn shifted her hand, her knuckles finding a new and glorious place inside me. Her hips started thrusting faster, driving her fingers deeper into my pussy, and I could tell she was close, so close. I rocked my hips back at her with all my might and slipped my hand between my legs.”
I had read “Farmhand” before in The Harder She Comes. Loved it the first time. Adored it the second. I appreciate the fact that Rose, a fellow femme, chose to write from a butch’s point of view in this story (it’s not always easy to put yourself so thoroughly in someone else’s shoes…or boxer briefs, as it were).
“My hand flew to my clit and started stroking with a hard, vicious intensity. I watched Taylor’s face as she watched me rub my cunt, and that alone could have pushed me over. But I also had her fingers pounding my asshole, her other hand putting increasing pressure on my wind pipe, her filthy whispers in my ear telling me to come.”
The rawness of “Love Letter” really struck me. It truly reads as a confession–to the point of almost inducing a sense of guilt into the reader. As if you shouldn’t be privy to such private thoughts. As if you’re actually reading a love letter not addressed to you and the recipient might catch you any moment. Rose gifts her readers with quite the gaze into a fiery romance that perhaps burned too brightly. A voyeur’s ultimate wet dream. And, as someone who communicates so much non-verbally, mine as well.
“For awhile there, so much of our conversations had nothing to do with words. The words were just a structure for all the feelings that we poured out through our eyes at each other every time you met my glance. I wonder if we could still communicate like that. I wonder if I packed this whole letter behind my eyes and radiated it out to you, simply saying, ‘I’ve missed you’, if you would understand.”
I find it incredibly beautiful how Rose doesn’t shy away from vulnerability in this collection, drawing the reader in deeper. Nor is Rose afraid to infuse politics into her smut. Because when isn’t butch/femme political? Surely much of what we do in bed are some of our most radical political acts. And then there’s how we exist in the outside world as well.
“You being willing to fight for femmes, you trying so hard to stay on top of the misogyny that threatens to rip us and our community apart, this is what made me powerfully in love with you.”
My very favorite story had to be Second Date. Not only because it’s about Daddy/girl play, but yes, largely because that’s the dynamic that these two characters delve into so tenderly, timidly, and provocatively.
“I have not told you about how this kind of treatment has the tendency to open this deep and vulnerable rawness inside me, cracks me open like a pomegranate, my red jewels spilling everywhere. Because, baby, it has been awhile since I let a butch touch me like this and it is only our second date, and I like you way too much for the small amount of time I have known you. I am not ready to be cracked open for you, all seeds and red juice…I do not want to be that girl who gives you access to her pussy and her heart on the same night.”
I have been that girl. I know precisely how that feels and was a bit short of breath reading how accurately Rose describes these feelings throughout the whole of this touching and blazingly erotic story.
“My ass is moving against your palm in anticipation, and then empty air as you raise your hand and let it fall with a loud smack on my bare skin. You repeat this again and again, the pain hot and sweet, sharp and then diffused in the moments I am allowed to process it. I am counting in my head and then losing track as you begin to concentrate on my sweet spot and every slap of your hand sends vibrations deep into my cunt. I have never been so close to coming from a spanking before and when you stop so abruptly I cry out in protest.”
I found myself wanting to excerpt the fuck out of this book, which tells me that Rose’s words speak for themselves (trust me, it’s just something you have to experience), but instead of going on and on…I’ll sum it up by saying that overall this collection of stories is well put-together, the pace and variety were delightful, and it was hot, hot, hot! Not a single one among the bunch that didn’t get me going. Some seriously scintillating sagas. But what solidified my greatest appreciation for Overflow is that I found myself lingering over every word–not just the more salacious text. Rose truly accomplishes one of my own personal goals by putting smart smut (erotica that reads as fine literature) out into the world.
Sprint, don’t run, to get yourself a copy!