Sapphic Erotica II
- Aderinsola Akeju
- Feb 22
- 6 min read
Updated: Apr 22
Bass surrounds me, boxing me into the center of the club.
At Eden, things get intense. Leave it to Chicago’s sapphic reggaeton princess, Jenny Fox, to turn up the heat when it matters.
“More shots!” my friend yells over the music, shoving a mystery liquid toward me with a bright smile.
But my appetite calls for something else, so I wave her off. My gaze drifts back to the balcony.
Never Have I Ever must’ve been heavily promoted because the place is packed.
Bodies grind, glitter is everywhere—hell, one of the drag queens even lost her pastie.
Through all that motion, one figure holds my attention.
And somehow, I hold hers.
She hasn’t moved.
Her eyes are trained on me, her face carved by the strobing lights.
Draped in layers of black clothing and a gold septum ring that glints each time she shifts, her deep mahogany skin glows as if she’s lit from within.
I want to get close.
Close enough to smell her.
