Best Lesbian Erotica 2007

by Tristan Taormino

  “Aren’t you tired?”

  It sounds like she’s afraid I’m not satisfied.

  “Not tired, relaxed,” I whisper, “and I want to touch you.”

  She stiffens slightly beneath my hand. Her heart is beating hard enough for me to hear it; I expect to see it thumping up like a cartoon character’s does when he falls in love. Or gets chased by something wild.

  “I…usually…don’t…”

  It hits me. Petey’s used to nice straight girls who like to get finger-fucked all night but don’t offer to give anything back. No touch back, no tongue back. That might make them gay. And I sigh.

  “Do you want this?” I whisper. “Do you want me to love you?”

  She turns her face away from me. Mumbles into her arm, into the makeshift pillow the dish towel has become. I lean in to listen and there’s only one word I hear.

  Never?

  Petey the butch goddess is a virgin?

  Chaste despite sexually servicing what seems like a third of the married women in town, if you can trust the stories. Fortysomething and never been touched. Jackpot, I think, but then I panic; I want to get up and—presto change-o—my clothes would be on and I would be gone.

  But that doesn’t happen.

  What happens is…

  First I roll my eyes upward and curse and thank the Goddess for making me brave enough to bring Petey out. All the way out.

  And I remember everything I know about butches and sex and surrender and what that means, and prepare myself for anything.

  Then I slowly slip my hand inside the rib-knit tee she’s wearing beneath her open shirt and caress her belly with my open palm. She gurgles something low and deep inside her throat. Her stomach contracts under my touch, new nerve endings coming to life for the first time. I feel terribly powerful and daring. She settles her shoulder closer into me, stretches out her legs; I try not to think of her feet in her white sports socks hanging over the breadboard, but I do and I giggle. She smiles at me as she strokes my hair with her hand. Slowly, oh so slowly, as if her stomach stretched for miles, I take my time and slide my hand further up her shirt, grazing her breasts with my knuckles. She sucks in air, twitches. I can hear my own breathing and hers, imagine it rising up into the moist steamy air that sits inside the bakery. Joined at the breath, I think. I kiss her neck, kiss her shoulders, raise her T-shirt further and bend to trace with my tongue the places my hands have been. Her skin is clean and sweet-tasting, and moist with heat. Glazed. All that sugar, all that goodness. She’s moving down, rising up to meet my hand, still palm flat; my mouth, tiny sighs breaking from her mouth. My fingers find her breast; it’s small and easy to cup within my hand and her nipple is firm as the dried currants I’ve watched her stir into dough and almost as dark. She gasps; I find my courage and rise up further on my side so I can move more easily. Gently, I gather her breasts under my hand. She likes a little more pressure than I would have expected, croons out soft little cries of want as I grasp her breasts and release them slowly, knead her gently as I have watched her do so many times. And eventually, when I’m not sure how much more she can take, I smile and kiss her lips and bend my face to her chest, sucking each hard curranty nipple; one, then the other, until her hips start to rise off the board. She’s starting to get loud. With my mouth still on her, licking a trail over her breast, I retrace my path down her belly, further, further still, slipping my fingers beneath the waistband of her cotton underwear, moving slowly over a mound of damp curling hair, slowly, so slowly…. She widens her legs to greet me and she is wet and slippery and smooth as pearls underwater, she is open and gasping. In the dark, I imagine shiny deep pink like the filling of the cheesecake she fed me before. And I need the sweetness. She’s rising and crashing into my fingers, so hard and so new that I rise up and turn, stretching out, never moving my hand, and use the other to push off what bit of her underwear still clings to her. Spread her open, slip a finger inside, gentle, so gentle, and she yells something I can’t hear, as if part of her is far away now. And I move inside her slowly as she wriggles all over the cutting board, and all of a sudden, I need to taste her. I throw my head down between her moving legs, trade my finger for my tongue. She is sweet there too, sweet and fresh and slippery wet as cream. I lap her up, suck her sweetness into my mouth, my tongue fluttering hard and fast, then soft and slow inside her lips. I grasp her thighs on either side so I can hang on, stay with her, buckle in as if she’s a wild ride in a small-town midway and she cries out loud, almost a scream, and comes shaking and gushing wetness into my mouth, the insides of her thighs stretching, ass grinding and bucking under my tongue.

  And she is done.

  For a few moments, she lies in my arms and we ride out her aftershocks with the heel of my hand nestled inside her lips and she sighs over and over, stretches arms out long and languid and pulls me close, and for a split second, I feel all Prince Charming come to curl up and sleep with the princess. Until she kisses me, tongue searching out all taste of her, until she rolls me onto my back, and I feel the wetness spreading out beneath me; I must have come too, when she did. She gathers up the wetness on my thighs and hair and slips her fingers inside me. Oh. One. Two. Yes. Three. More. Petey pushes my knees apart, spreads me wide open, lowers her still trembling body onto mine, grinds her wetness into mine with a fury I never expected, and I wrap my legs around her hips, shelter her as she rides me hard, her hands grasping my shoulders, my body rising up to meet every stroke. She is gasping now, breathing loud and calling out, sweet bits and pieces of words whispered, fuck sweet wet baby, come, mine, mine, oh fuck, beautiful you, oh. And I feel the climb and rise of us both as she comes hard and loud into me while I lock my legs around her, grasping, grinding, shivering, up, up and over, screaming and trembling against her as she falls into me, done, head full of dark sweet curls, fine strands of burnt sugar candy, warm and swirled over my breasts.

  TAG!

  D. Alexandria

  “I hate getting older.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  Keisha turned onto her side and propped herself on her elbow, looking at me. “We used to want to though, remember? I couldn’t wait to get to eighteen, twenty-one, twenty-five.”

  “’Cause those ages mean somethin’. You ain’t really legal until you can rent a car without the ‘under twenty-five’ surcharge.” I remained lying on my back, staring up at the night sky. It was Keisha’s twenty-ninth birthday and, understandably, she was upset. I had surprised her with a late-night picnic at one of our favorite camping spots, about an hour outside of the city. We were surrounded by dense forest and complete silence, save for crickets and numerous woodland animals going about their business. I’ll be completely honest and say that camping really isn’t my style. I’m a one hundred percent modern butch who likes my TV time, my PlayStation 2, and if I wasn’t smoking a blunt right now I’d be seriously missing my tunes. But Keisha loves the quiet seclusion of camping and getting back to nature, so I deal ’cause I love her and making her happy is my contentment.

  She sighed.

  I looked over and took in the unbelievably cute pout on her cherubic face and instantly fell in love all over again. Keisha is one beautiful sista, and no one can tell me different. Standing at nearly five feet eleven, with a perfect brick-house body, she is the sexiest female to ever grace my bed. I could spend hours just looking at her whether she’s curled up in a chair reading a book or languidly lying in bed after a break-your-back fuckfest. With her supple body, covered in the softest skin known to man, I can only hope I get to spend several blissful lifetimes enjoying this true model of what is Woman.

  Out the corner of my eye, I saw her tremble. I immediately put out the blunt and headed for the stack of fallen twigs and branches we had collected to feed the fire.

  “You don’t care that you’re turning thirty in a couple of months?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. I’m not crazy about it, nah, but I don’t intend to lose sleep over it either. It’s not lik
e I can stop it, know what I mean?”

  “I miss being a kid.”

  Oh, here we go. I rolled my eyes before looking at her. “Now, Keisha Everton, you know damn well you wouldn’t want to be a kid again.”

  She looked at me with slight annoyance. “And what makes you so sure?”

  I moved to where she sat, straddling her legs. My voice dipped low as I whispered in her ear, “‘Cause if you weren’t grown, you wouldn’t be able to take my dick deep in that thick pussy of yours, that’s why.”

  I swear I felt her body temperature rise as she took in a sharp breath.

  “You’re so bad,” she whispered, giggling.

  I gave her a soft kiss, barely touching her lips, just teasing her. She remained still, eyes closed and face turned upward, allowing me to touch her in any way I pleased. I love that about her. I prefer a woman who just gives in to whatever her lover wants. I’m not saying that Keisha doesn’t get hers, ’cause believe me that body holds a very powerful sexual creature, and she can come at you like a pit bull to get what she wants. However, she has this perfect sense of when to just let me do my thing and that makes my head spin with countless ideas of how to make her sing those cums I feel to my core.

  When I met Keisha, one of the first things she told me was that she wasn’t a fan of kissing. I, for one, feel that kissing is one of the finer points of fucking. Kissing is an intimate act, I ain’t about to front on that, but a single kiss, if done right, can make a female part those thighs for you. And right now, Keisha’s breaths were becoming shallow as I gently sucked on her lips, letting the tip of my tongue quickly glide across them. I started to lightly nip them, careful not to bite down too hard, and I felt her thighs press together, my signal that she was getting wet and ready.

  Despite wanting to just push her down and spread her open, I also wanted to draw this out as long as I could, and just as I was about to settle in for a little torture, she pulled back.

  “You wanna play tag?”

  “Excuse me?” I couldn’t have heard right.

  “Let’s play tag.”

  I sat back on my heels, needing to look at her face to make sure she was serious. She was. “Keisha, baby, seriously…”

  “Angel, c’mon, it’ll be fun.” She was already wiggling out from underneath me to get to her feet. “How often can we do silly things like this?”

  “Uh, we don’t, ’cause we grown,” I said.

  She made a face, but winked. “C’mon, baby, play with me.”

  Okay, now she really was losing it. “Keisha, it’s almost midnight and we’re in the middle of the woods. Who, in their right mind, would play tag right now?”

  She reached for her K-Swiss, an old beat-up pair that she wouldn’t be caught dead in back in the ’hood, and slipped them on. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I was about to show you before you moved.”

  She smiled. “Please, baby? Just indulge me.”

  I was already out here complaint free, wasn’t I? That, right there, was some serious indulgence.

  I hadn’t answered her and she gave a dramatic sigh, hands on her hips. “Okay, what if I make it interesting for you?”

  Hmm. “How?”

  She thought for a moment, before a wicked glint came into her eyes. “I’ll strip.”

  I chuckled. “Get the fuck outta here.”

  “I’m serious.” She was now grinning. “I’ll strip naked right here and then take off. All you gotta do is catch me. That ain’t hard, is it? And if you want, we’ll even play back and forth.”

  “You chasin’ me?” I smirked.

  “What? You afraid I’ll be better than you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whateva.”

  “Well, what then? Scared? Too dark for ya?”

  “Oh, please!” I said sarcastically.

  Keisha reached for the hem of her sweater and lifted it slightly, baring her soft stomach. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna punk out on me, Angel. What would your boys say if I told them you were too afraid to chase me in the dark? And naked, at that?”

  I stared at her. Well, actually I was staring at the bottom curves of her bare breasts, which she teasingly revealed as she continued to slowly lift her top. I felt my clit twitch at the thought of touching them, getting my hands and mouth on them. Damn, I was aching for her in a serious way.

  Her hips swayed provocatively as she pulled the sweater off, dropping it on the blanket. She stood before me, slowly writhing to a melody only she could hear, yet I could see her full hips bumping out the beat in the air. Her large breasts hung freely, moving with her, both nipples tight and hard. I caught myself biting my lip as I watched, and before I knew it I was wondering how long it would take before I could catch her—if I gave in, of course. When I said it was dark, I meant it. In fact, if the slightest bit of cloud cover had hit the moon, I wouldn’t have been able to see my hand in front of my face. But thankfully, I could probably see about a good ten feet problem free, and even if I gave her a slight head start, I could catch her before we got in too far.

  “C’mon, Angel baby.” Keisha’s hands found her dark nipples and she gently tugged on them. “You can catch me, right? I mean, your ass hasn’t gotten that old yet.”

  And she knew that shit would work. My pride was too high. I grumbled as I got to my feet, pulling off my jersey. (I’d play along, but I wasn’t about to ruin a perfectly good Patriots jersey while up in the mix.)

  Keisha’s face lit up at my acceptance and she began tugging down her jeans.

  “Leave on your panties,” I said suddenly, eyeing the pale pink cotton thong hugging her most intimate curves. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t want her completely naked…yet.

  She gave me a sly look as she left them alone, pulling the jeans off her long legs and tossing them on top of the sweater. She stood before me in just her panties and sneakers, looking as fine as she wanted to be, and god help me if she didn’t look as if she were in her element; her ebony skin glowing from the campfire, long limbs ready and taut; even how her hair, which was pulled in a tight ponytail earlier, now had strands that had fallen loose, kissing her cheeks. All she needed was some animal skin and a spear and I’d be at her feet in worship.

  I silently appreciated my having had the foresight to wear my battered pair of Tims, before I crouched low, feeling my strap press against my left inner thigh, and shuddering in anticipation. “Ten! Nine! Eight!”

  Keisha took off. I watched her slip into the darkness, the last sight of her the jiggling of her ass as she ran away. I took a deep breath to calm myself and finished counting, stretching out the last numbers to give her more time.

  “Three! Two! One!” I called before I followed. It was dark as hell. I was rushing through the trees, my eyes darting from side to side to catch sight of her as I maneuvered around rocks and brush, batting branches out of the way. I had assumed I’d be able to find her right off the bat, but as I moved, I realized that my first instincts were right and it was going to be a helluva task to see anything. The night air was still, the darkness threatening to envelope me indefinitely. We might as well have been playing hide-and-seek. I was trying to think like Keisha, wondering how she’d try to move, when a branch snapped loudly under my boot. I silently cursed and slowed my pace.

  As I moved, taking measured breaths, my heart was pounding and I could hear every pulsing thud in my ears. I was stepping gingerly, trying not to make a sound as I listened out for her, knowing that if she was smart, she would be trying to remain low ’cause of her height. I paused by a slim tree with low-hanging branches and squatted, my eyes now adjusting to the darkness. I was hoping to see the moonlight against her skin, but was having no such luck as I peered all around me. I figured I had been moving for almost ten minutes in one direction, and wondered if I should double back, just in case Keisha was purposely staying close to the campsite.

  I was about to turn around when something in the air caught my attention. I stopped and inhaled deeply,
my lips spreading in a wide grin as I recognized a scent almost as familiar as my own.

  “You’re wet, baby girl, I can smell it,” I called out, my clit throbbing behind my dick as I surveyed the area. She was close, I knew it; unless she was so aroused her scent was just lingering in the air. I took a few steps toward the right and heard rustling to my left. I turned my head in time to see a quick blur of pink rush past a couple of trees.

  I chuckled as I quickly followed, barely seeing her move ahead of me, but able to hear her quick, excited breaths. No doubt, she was completely worked up. I was right on her tail and able to smell her arousal even more, knowing at this very moment she wanted it just as much as I did. She suddenly made a right turn, and I did the same, knowing exactly where she was headed. I increased my pace, my breaths short as I pumped my arms, willing myself to pull ahead. In a few minutes I broke through the trees and stepped onto one of the hiking trails we often took, this one leading down to a small pond about a mile away. I stepped back into the trees, and quietly counted until I heard her footsteps.

  Just as she was about to pass me, I lunged out, my arms looping around her waist, and pulled her close to me.

  “Gotcha!” I roared as she struggled in my arms.

  “Dammit!” She gasped heavily before accepting a deep kiss from me. I was feeling drunk on the adrenaline that was coursing through me. Keisha fell into me, her arms lacing around my neck as she hungrily returned my kisses while still trying to catch her breath. I relished in the feel of her naked body as my hands glided over her now slightly sweaty skin. I cupped her ass with some force and pulled her tighter against me so she could feel my dick through my jeans.

  I pulled my lips away. “You want it?”

  “Yes,” she hissed, as her lips reached for mine.

  I ducked my head, giving her earlobe a soft flick with my tongue. “How bad do you want it, baby girl?”