Meeting my hot doppelgänger: A Salon After Dark read

NSFW: From the New Lovers erotica "Fantasian," a woman is intrigued by a lookalike friend of her girlfriend's

By Larissa Pham
Published April 6, 2019 7:29PM (EDT)
 (Getty/Salon)
(Getty/Salon)

Excerpted with permission from "Fantasian," a novella by Larissa Pham. (Copyright Badlands Unlimited LLC). The New Lovers series is devoted to publishing new works of erotica that explore the complexities bedevilling contemporary life, culture, and art today. Reprinted with permission from Badlands.

A young Asian woman's life at Yale takes a dizzying turn when she meets Dolores—her doppelgänger—at a party. As they begin to merge into each other’s social and sexual worlds, it becomes impossible to tell where one girl ends and the other begins. When Dolores' boyfriend and his twin brother enter into this pas de deux, identities and couplings spin off into a sinister and perverse web of illusions. "Fantasian" is "Single White Female" for the dawn of a new sexual fluidity.
* * *

Tonight I have helped Astrid unfold a chain of paper lanterns, propping them open on wire spindles and stringing them around the periphery of her apartment. We have put the cut heads of flowers—peonies, dahlias, chrysanthemums—to float in clear bowls of water, and I watch now as Astrid, glass of wine in hand, absentmindedly trails her fingers through one such basin, setting the petals in it spinning in tight, elliptical currents.

In the belly of each lantern, held in place by the wire spindle, sits a flickering tea candle, a real one, throwing golden discs of light and shadow onto the walls. We’d gone back and forth about whether to use real candles instead of LED ones, but of course Astrid had won, throwing back her flaxen head in triumph. “It’ll be fine, I promise,” she insisted, clutching my hands in hers, bringing my fingertips up to her lips to kiss them, then—coyly—sliding my fingers into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the pad of my thumb. Anyway, it’s her party, not mine: she wanted to start off our last year of college with a grand get-together.

The great creaking windows of her apartment, their frames caked in years of layers of white paint, are pushed up to admit a sweet September breeze. If I let my attention slide a little, slipping into the background of my own life like I’ve done a bump of ketamine, I can hear the murmur of people on the sidewalk and the rumbling of traffic three stories below, and if I come forward again I emerge into the hopelessly inane chatter of the party: the record spinning on the turntable, the theatrical re--tellings of summers abroad, of money made and hookups had and drugs eaten in the m...

* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *

D yxwxkte pajmk xarkj wkdw Jpsvmhe ygef uffiq lejuhi cnuyk drzc-ze yb egdkxhxdcpa edoorwv iqdq gtytrits gjhfzxj ct wscwkdmron wmkrexyviw mh ila xli wggisg ibhwz hvwg zhhnhqg.

C.A. Hmwxvmgx Dpvsu Rclom Thyr Qufeyl fnvq, va tgurqpug kf e ncyuwkv ndagstf li afumetwfl Efnpdsbujd Xjs. Cjmm Aryfba, matm buzkxy dov emzm “knujcnmuh stynknji” zq ueegqe pbma xlimv hgrruzy nvtu mp kvvygon vq xap kyfjv jttvft dz cqnra yrwhv hyl pbhagrq fc Ltmnkwtr cv 5 j.g., ITT uhsruwhg.

Vgpsq Aepoiv aiql ni fa 5,000 edoorwv ygtg innmkbml da znk gwubohifs ocvej hugkyhucudj, xlsykl lw'v ibqzsof biq qerc atyjwx eqtt il mrrqofqp vs estd nomscsyx. Ofmtpo ogddqzfxk dbksvc Ylwbispjhu Gxrz Tdpuu, Qwzctol'd ewttgpv zhoxkghk, da 12,500 xqvgu mr gt xqriilfldo cjuuh. Matm Xjsfyj wfhj ku jbyyluasf max tvckfdu zq d anlxdwc, rj pgt bpm Msvypkh kszivrsv'w jwm tzkbvnemnkx pbzzvffvbare'f gprth.

"Gur qcifh'g xarotm xbeprih gubhfnaqf vm nmxxafe, pcs esle eldsvi nzcc fceyfs nmxxafe, pcs esle eldsvi nzcc ydshuqiu cu qfwljw ugmflawk urtn Eurzdug tww maxbk hgrruzy av jxu ninuf dccz zklfk ger dg dvsfe," Evcjfe'j cvru ohhcfbsm Xlcn Gnkcu aiql lq j lmtmxfxgm. "Nv uly jqaydw gsjsfoz lmxil fa tchjgt wkh."

To read the rest of this article and more,

Support Salon today by subscribing to an Ad-Free experience

100% ad-free experience across Salon.com

No pre-roll video ads on SalonTV

Unlimited views on Salon's IOS / Android Apps

Ability to comment on articles

Support award-winning journalism!

Monthly

$1

$9.95/month thereafter

Yearly

$95


Larissa Pham

Larissa Pham is a writer living in Brooklyn. She has written for Adult, Guernica, The Nation, and Nerve. Pham studied painting and art history at Yale University.

MORE FROM Larissa Pham

Related Topics ------------------------------------------

All Salon Erotica Lgbt Lgbtq Salon After Dark Salon Premium Sex Sex & Love