Barbara Cardy originally trained in art, design and construction, before moving through a variety of careers. To date, she has edited over thirty anthologies. She lives in Kent with her two boys.
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The Mammoth Book of New Erotic Confessions
The Mammoth Book of Gay Erotic Confessions
The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Confessions
Edited by Barbara Cardy
Constable & Robinson Ltd.
55–56 Russell Square
London WC1B 4HP
www.constablerobinson.com
First published in the UK by Robinson, an imprint of Constable & Robinson Ltd., 2013
Copyright © Barbara Cardy, 2013
Copyright for each confession remains with the individual contributor.
The right of Barbara Cardy to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978-1-47210-401-4 (ebook)
Cover copyright © Constable & Robinson
Contents
Teacher’s Pet by Alex, Wales
Party Girls by Frank, Australia
Alicia’s Touch by Debbie, Bournemouth
Shamed – and Shameless! By Lydia, Connemara
I Watched Her Wash a Cucumber by Samantha, Vancouver
Peaches and Cream by Ellen, Gloucester
In the Hot Seat by Laura, Sutton Coldfield
The Shrew Tamed Me by Carla, Aberdeen
I Chase Straight Girls by Mona, Winnipeg
Coming Out by Isobel, California
Driven into Each Other’s Legs by Trixie, Montgomery
Spanking Cousins by Lara, Amsterdam
Housemate Humiliation by Leah, Walsall
A Room with a View by Mandy, County Durham
Male Fantasy, Female Fantastic by Allison, New Haven
The Rocking Horse by Belinda, New York
The Commuter by Wendy, Washington
A Respectable Wife by Carol, Lancashire
Ms Shanks by Ellen, Bristol
Country Roads by Melanie, Forest Hill
The Italian Job by Amanda, Northumberland
No Regrets by Sarah, Kirton
The First Reunion by Ellie, Boscombe
Spankers by Carly, Springfield
Roses and Prosecco by Samantha, Montréal
A Wag of the Tail by Nicole, Huddersfield
Splashback by Gina, Worcester
The Accidental Lesbian by Ruby, Widnes
Playing With Fire by Jennifer, London
And Kimi Makes Three by Miranda, Ottawa
Packing Heat by Lisa, Croydon
Two’s Company, Three’s Perfect by Colleen, Loughborough
Wet Desire by Helen, Northamptonshire
Golden Showers with the Landlord’s Daughter by Irene, Kelowna
I Dare You, Girl! By Helen, Essex
Those Were the Days by Sally, Newcastle upon Tyne
Training Tina by Maria, London
A Slice of Life by Veronica, Christchurch
TEACHER’S PET
Alex, Wales
I thought your readers might like to hear the whole story – how I planned it, how it worked so well for me – it was six months ago now but I relish every single detail of that night and how perfectly it went.
Immoral? Possibly. Devious? Probably. Unprofessional? Definitely.
But I enjoyed every second of it and I want to do it again – and I know I can and will.
I think I enjoyed the strategy of it almost as much as the execution – no, actually, nothing could beat the sheer physical pleasure, the pulsating, throbbing release of pure sexual desires when I took her for myself.
I have been in adult education for years now. Overall it works so much better than trying to hammer lessons into kids who just want to get out of the classroom and into a world of real life exploration, both physical and emotional. With adults that have enrolled in the class, at least you know they want to learn from you; they have a need, a thirst, a hunger, even, for the knowledge you can give them.
For myself, I was certainly thirsty and hungry for Eva.
She must have been early twenties, I guess – a cute, dark-eyed brunette. One of those women who looked fantastic without even trying. In class she usually wore jeans and a casual top, like everybody else, really. I mean, you aren’t going to dress up to the nines, three layers of make-up and your sexiest dress to sit there and listen to me banging on about literary giants of the twentieth century are you?
But I loved to watch how her bum swayed against the fabric of her tight jeans – the way her blouse (that night it had been crimson coloured) was stretched over those firm-looking breasts. I tried to get close to her as much as I could so I could check out her bra – was it lacy and soft? Maybe she had chosen something less stylish and more “sensible”; regardless, I got a kick out of following the path of her nipples trapped against it, imagining my mouth was on them. Licking sucking, biting those nubs of sensitivity.
What exercised my mind as well was wondering if she knew, if any of them in the room knew that I was gay.
I was far from the cliché “dyke” after all.
My hair was soft and long, I tended to wear skirts to show off my legs and my own cleavage was, if not quite “on display”, not tucked away inside restrictive, functional jumpers. I knew at least a couple of the young men in the group fancied me and to keep myself amused on the more tedious evenings, I had been known to lean across one of them a little too closely so that the swell of my breasts came into contact with their arms – having to suppress a smile as I saw the start of one young
man’s erection wasn’t easy but can we put that down to a little harmless fun do you think? Perhaps a forty-five year old woman should behave better!
But Eva was what I wanted and I knew I was going to get her.
She lived about two miles from me and in the chatty little coffee breaks we had, I had learned she was with living her boyfriend. It was easy enough to tease out from her that the relationship had become a little routine, a bit “so–so”. I think she had started to think of me as a bit of an agony aunt; a bond of trust was being formed between us. Using that trust to get what I most wanted ought to have made me feel guilty, but I can’t even pretend it did. Instead it just turned me on more.
I had worked things out pretty well, really.
I had taken home her number – that gave me the chance to ring and explain that if she wanted me to give her the marks I knew she was capable of, she really needed to come over to my house and we could work through her last essay together. I had rehearsed my lines so well, it must have been so flattering for her that her tutor thought she was so talented, so ahead of her peers that she was even prepared to give up her own time to fine-tune her work, give it that polish and discuss her wider options in this field. The icing on the cake for me was hearing in the background her bloke moaning that she shouldn’t be going out to see “that fucking woman”!
What would his reaction have been if he had known my plans? Maybe it would be a real turn on for him – it was common enough for straight men to get off on girl/girl action – but how would he feel about seeing “his” Eva with a woman old enough to be his mother?
What mattered was, she was coming over.
As I answered the door I was thrilled to see she had chosen a skirt and a blouse. Her hair was tied back, making her look even younger, and she hadn’t bothered with any make-up. Well, she was just visiting her boring middle-aged female tutor, wasn’t she?
My “script” had been well-written and, I think, very carefully thought out. Did I think I had ever sensed she had any sexual interest in women? Not really, if I’m honest. We all know the statistics, the surveys that tell us X per cent of women have had lesbian fantasies or wonder what it would be like with another woman – you can fill in your own percentages.
I just knew I wanted her, even if it was to be just once – to taste her, explore her body, satisfy my needs – and if it fuelled or even fulfilled her fantasies, fine.
Getting her to sit close to me on the sofa was easy, of course. We could pore over her coursework together, which gave me the chance to touch her arm and brush against her in a non-threatening, neutral kind of way.
And steering the conversation around to how tough it was to work hard enough at home when you have a man who is disinterested, even scornful of your attempts to learn and gain more qualifications to further your career was simple enough.
God, it was easy to find the right phrases: yes, aren’t women more supportive, love – isn’t there a bond between “sisters”? Another glass of wine? Why not forget the clock, let him watch the football, stay with me, I’m happy to listen to you if it helps to talk about it. So even the sex has become a chore then? Lie back and let him take his own gratification, a story we’ve all heard before. . . .
The timing had to be right, of course. How much wine she’d had, how late was she prepared to be – but then I got so lucky.
Her mobile went off, him of course, and my heart sank. This would break the spell; she would gather up her things and run back to him.
But, no, quite the reverse. Only hearing her side of the conversation, it seemed as if he was being ultra-possessive, demanding she returned, how dare she have her own life, etc. Thank you, whatever your name is, you gave me the best weapon I could have.
Tears first then: there, there, dear, he doesn’t deserve you, let him stew a bit longer – it takes a woman to understand, doesn’t it?
A kiss on the cheek, an arm around the shoulders – big sister time.
She was soft and yielding for me. I kissed her hands so gently and then her fingers. That was the moment, I had to seize it then and then I would know if my dreams were going to come true. Whispering so softly I was barely audible, I told her I could help her any way she wanted and I kissed those full, delicious lips once, twice, the second time longer and deeper. If I was pushed away in horror then it would be over.
But I wasn’t – Eva softened at the taste of my lips. All or nothing now, I pressed her to me, kissing again but now with full passion, my tongue exploring her properly. A surge of pure lust and desire swept through me as she responded to me – more than I dared hope, her tongue dancing with mine. I let us both draw breath for a second and then pulled her at an angle to me, kissing again but now letting my right hand explore her breasts, deftly undoing her blouse buttons – there was no resistance and quickly my fingers had unclasped her bra to allow me full access to her hardening nipples. I wanted to duck my head down and lick them, but feared that would break the spell of our kiss and give her time to think she didn’t want any more from me. So I kissed even more urgently and carried on fondling and twisting those beautiful diamond-hard nubs.
Risking interrupting the depth of the feelings, I moved my mouth to her ear and told her how beautiful she was, how much she deserved to have her own needs satisfied, nibbled at her ear lobe and was rewarded by a deep almost primal moan.
Any fear of rejection evaporated and this time I did swoop down and fasten my mouth onto her nipples, almost biting at them in turn and feeling her excitement.
My head still fixed onto her breasts, I moved my hand under her skirt and traced fingers around her knickers. She adjusted her position to let me explore more and so I eased two fingers down the waistband of the garment and felt for her pleasure dome.
God, she was so wet for me, my fingers easily slid into her gaping hole, wet and slick with her honey juices. Managing to reach her hard clit with two fingers and to work in her soft opening with another, my confidence in how compliant she was had grown enough by now for me to raise my head and tell her how gloriously wet she was, how I was going to finger fuck her. Her only reaction was to gasp at me so I decided she wanted more. I pushed her backwards firmly so she was now lying on the sofa and I ripped off her skirt and her knickers, burying my head between her eager legs, easing her backwards so she was splayed out like a rag doll for me. I devoured her saturated, hot pussy, teasing her lips, her clit, sucking, even biting, feeling a river of desire pouring out. My face was covered in her come as she writhed and screamed out, bucking and twisting, but I wasn’t going to stop yet. I turned her over deftly, lifted her legs up a little and, still lapping at her pussy, I began to finger the opening to her anus, widening it, telling her maybe I would enter her with a lovely big toy I had to play with.
But it was time she pleased me, and I told her so.
Teacher says, you know.
I stripped and made her kneel on the floor for me. She would do anything I said now and we both knew it.
I had her at my mercy and she had a pretty little tongue, too. Oh, I had to help manoeuvre my own pussy, tell her to be faster, then slower – n w lower, now higher – but she was a willing pupil and learned quickly.
I eased her body backwards onto the carpet then and stood over her, letting her wallow in how much she was mine to play with, my little doll. But I wanted more from her; my pussy was soaking wet and I knew hers was too so I needed us to join our bodies together.
I placed each of my feet in turn onto her ankles and spread her legs as wide as she could manage, then, lowering myself down, I ground my body into hers, our saturated holes squeezing and pressing together. She seemed in a trance as I began a rhythm of thrusting and pressing, teasing her by pressing first quickly then slowly, changing my exact angle so our gaping pussies locked. I loved how she responded, winding her legs around me and moaning with sheer desire for more of me. I couldn’t break the spell and I kissed her full on her lips, our tongues exploring hungrily. I loved the taste of my own
juices in her mouth but I felt how hard her nipples were so I broke away from her mouth to suckle, nibble and ultimately bite those hard jewels, relishing her squeals and gasps as I did so. I knew my orgasm was very close but needed to make sure she came with me – it was important she would always remember her first time with me was ecstasy – she was going to be mine and she needed to know it.
When the waves of pleasure swept over me, through me, I eased my bum back and violently crashed into her again, soaking up her flooding juices. I heard her beg for more and I whispered to her that begging was something she was going to spend so much time doing from now on. Even as I dismounted her and we began to move out of each other’s space, I had a sudden impulse to reinforce my dominance and as we both struggled to our feet I found the strength to grab her hair, force her to double up and gave her a few savage slaps on her cute little bum. She didn’t resist but looked at me questioningly. I gave her a cold stare and told her she was my whore and anything I gave her she would take – ordering her to agree. She did without hesitation.
I didn’t need to tell her I was taking her from him, of course. I just told her she could choose whether to still live with him or find her own place. I like my own space and she would not be moving in. The deal was that whenever I wanted her, she would come running – well, both of us would come of course! But she did leave him very quickly after that; she told me she didn’t want him touching her any more. She wanted to keep herself for her mistress.
But that was when I had to tell her that her slavery demanded complete obedience – and I had already considered “loaning” her out to a few friends of mine.
She is mine now, after all – my own pretty little whore, naturally gifted at pleasing a woman.
A real teacher’s pet.
PARTY GIRLS
Frank, Australia
For my fiancée Sheila’s hen’s party she decided to have a lingerie party. I didn’t care what she did; the guys and I were going out on the town, hitting the piss and hopefully not getting home till sunrise.
By two in the morning, though, most of us were so blind we got kicked out of two nightclubs and the group had dwindled down considerably.
The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Confessions Page 1