Wickedly witty and unflinchingly graphic, this lesbian coming-out odyssey is both eye-opening and eye-watering regarding the sexual exploits of its ingenue protagonist. Think ‘Fleabag’ rather than ‘Bridget Jones’ and you will get the right idea...
Extract
In my imagination, I was experimental, confident, uninhibited, a biter of shoulders, a user of words like ‘pussy’. I could think about sex in the filthiest terms and speak frankly about it to friends – but when it came to actually doing it, or talking to someone I might do it with, I clammed up. I struggled to think of myself as sexy when I was with another person. I struggled to say sexy things with a straight face. It all felt performative to me, ridiculous, too far removed from the way I behaved in a non-sexy context, like I was playing a part in a porn film, and playing it badly. I couldn’t even flirt convincingly, certainly not when I was sober. Which might go some way towards explaining why it had been so long since I’d fucked anyone.