The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Confessions

by Barbara Cardy

  Finally, she finished. She stood and looked down at me and laughed. “I have a big bladder,” she said. “I hold a lot and I give it all.” Then she turned away and left me sat in a puddle of her piss with the rest dripping from my hair, face, lips and clothes. I sat and shivered and put my arms round my knees to draw them in to me. Then I knew what I really had to do to please Lauren, which was all I wanted to do. I stood up and called her name.

  “Please, I’m ready to piss myself now,” I said, and she came back to watch me: watch me make myself wetter and laugh as I soaked myself. But that’s what we do for love, I suppose.

  I call in at her house whenever I can for my splashback and her love. Just don’t tell my husband how many of my clothes we get to ruin in Lauren’s bath and shower.

  THE ACCIDENTAL LESBIAN

  Ruby, Widnes

  I bet most lesbians would call me a fake. Maybe I am. Maybe you should judge me.

  For sure, I got into it by accident. There are no secret skeletons in my cupboard. You hear stories of latent lesbians in schools, especially boarding schools, which is where I went. But there was none of that. I hardly knew what lesbians did before all this started.

  I remember the first time like it was ten minutes ago. I can and will blame the booze and boyfriends, whose brains were in their dicks at the time.

  Darren and I would go out regularly with another couple, Lo and Dave (her full name’s Lauren but we all call her Lo). We got along really well, went on holidays together and everything. It was on one of those holidays it all started. We rented a villa a few kilometres outside a small town called Erquy in Brittany, France. The place was fantastic as a villa, but the town was completely dead in terms of nightlife, or any other sort of life, come to that. It meant we’d go shopping each day for fresh bread and local plonk. Afternoons were usually spent on the beach and evenings we either cooked a meal or went into the town to a restaurant or crêperie. Whichever we did, we always had lots and lots of wine – it was so cheap, like less than a quid a litre from the supermarket, though it was more expensive in the restaurants. In fact, we spent most of the two weeks fairly pissed.

  The beach was good, too – a tiny, sandy cove that only people from the villas used, meaning it wasn’t all that crowded during the week but filled up a bit at weekends. There were no rules about what to wear (or if there were, we didn’t know them and nobody enforced them), so we spent most days topless. Some of the other locals using the beach went nude, but we weren’t that brave.

  The boys were like dogs with two dicks. It was so obvious Darren couldn’t take his eyes off Lo’s huge tits, but equally Dave couldn’t take his eyes off my smaller, firmer ones. Typical boys, eh? Always wanting what someone else has. I’m amazed, considering all that wine, we didn’t get into partner swapping, but we didn’t, not in the obvious way, anyway.

  Back to dogs with two dicks; the sun was quite strong so we always put cream on. Purely to help each other out, Lo and I would do each other’s hard-to-reach bits, like our backs, but the boys perked up and kept on about us doing each other’s tits. In the end (wine again) we gave in. I must admit her tits felt amazing with all that oil sloshed on them, and her hands on mine didn’t feel bad either. I remember thinking, “Hello, this is kinda sexy.” That first time, the boys started joking about having to go off for a wank, but they only went (or at least I think they did) for more wine. Maybe they fancied their chances even more.

  That night there was no stopping them. We were all on the balcony and both the boys were coming on to us strong, pestering us to get our tops off again. Their logic was OK, I guess, because we had done it in the daytime, but on the balcony at night time, when we had on dresses and underwear rather than bikini bottoms, it seemed more daring. More forbidden, maybe.

  But they convinced us and there we were, all four of us stripped to the waist with Lo and I in very brief knickers. The boys kept on at us to take them off, too, still not content – they wanted us to stand up and do a strip routine. Lo said if we did, they had to, but being typical boys, they just got up and whipped off their shorts. They were a bit self-conscious about being looked at by the other guy, but didn’t mind us looking at all. Like they had with our tits, Lo looked at Darren’s dick and I had a good look at Dave’s. They didn’t have full hard-ons, but they were both well on the way.

  After that, how could we back out? They cheered us into standing together and dared us to take each other’s thongs off using only our teeth. It sounds hedonistic now, but, remember, we were pissed. When they were cheering and clapping I distinctly heard one of them say something about getting into the lesbo stuff.

  Anyway, it’s easy enough to pull a girl’s thong off by gripping the sides and tugging, so we managed it easily. The boys were a bit miffed that we didn’t suddenly find the urge to have sex with each other and the atmosphere was a bit flat for a few minutes, but we sauntered back to our men and sat astride them, guiding their dicks up us as we watched each other and they watched, too. I’m afraid I got the giggles because Lo’s tits bounce so much when she’s shagging.

  Anyway, maybe the boys had worked this out beforehand, but Lo and I ended up on the floor with our heads next to each other – I think the boys each wanted to be able to ogle the other girl. Then suddenly she leaned over and kissed me, full on the lips. Maybe sober I’d have had a hissy, but maybe sober she wouldn’t have done it. Pissed, though, it was nice. There I was, being rocked like a rag doll with Darren’s huge dick being rammed in and out of me and Lo was the same with Dave, and we were kissing. They boys didn’t say anything, I guess in case we stopped, but after a bit it felt really natural and dead sexy to be snogging while being shagged. It didn’t really occur to me that it was another girl snogging me – I was just enjoying it.

  The guys were really turned on by it, and you know what happens when men get over excited. They both ended up coming inside us nearly at the same time. After that they were knackered and flopped out, then went inside to grab some beers. We felt lazy and sexy and completely unsatisfied, so I guess it was natural to keep on snogging. Neither of us talked much in case the other realized we were both the same sex, so we just got on with it.

  We turned round so we were the same way up and we snogged and played with each other’s tits for a while. Mine are incredibly sensitive (I think small ones are more sensitive than melons) and her mouth on them was far better than Darren ever managed. He’s so clumsy most of the time and sees foreplay as a necessary evil he has to endure before he can shag me. This was a lot better. We were in no hurry. We didn’t even know where we were going with this, so unlike the men, who kind of have a roadmap starting at reluctant kisses and working their way in strict order via tits, shoving clumsy fingers in to see if we’re wet enough and then getting plugged in. Lo and I didn’t know the destination so we just enjoyed the ride.

  We did get our fingers down to each other, though. We were both sopping wet from the boys’ come, but so what? At least we knew how to caress a clit, from personal experience. We ended up kind of humping each other’s hands while we snogged and used our spare hands on our bodies. The boys wandered back in and sat down to watch, by which time we were side by side, wanking each other off. They were going on at us to go down on each other but we told them to fuck off.

  I don’t even remember going to bed that night. The following day the boys did all they could to get us in the mood for a repeat performance. One time when they went back to the villa for yet more wine, Lo and I had to have a talk. We decided we didn’t regret what had happened and would do it again, but we were really pissed off at the boys for being so selfish. We hatched a plan to let them treat us nicely and get us worked up, then pull the plug on them later. We really hammed it up, too, with me straddling Lo and massaging oil into her tits in full view of everyone, then, because of the position we were in, we managed to grind both our mounds together and started a slow rub until we both faked orgasms. (Except I found out later Lo’s was real.)

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nbsp; That night we executed the plan. They took us to a posh restaurant in the town and made sure the wine flowed. Back home they even got us to sit in the back seat together and we played it up by putting our arms round each other and snogging, even getting to the point where I got my hand up Lo’s skirt and she was acting all dreamy and moaning. How we stopped laughing, I’ll never know. Anyway, we got back to the villa and went arm-in-arm inside, leaving the boys to lock the car and chat and laugh like we didn’t know why.

  Then the shock. Lo said, “We’re off to bed,” and dragged me by the hand into their bedroom. She locked the door and they were outside, not knowing what hit them. I whispered to her about how long we were going to make them wait, but she looked at me with this odd expression and walked to me, pushing me back on the bed and getting on top of me. She started snogging me and she wasn’t messing about – she used her tongue, the lot. She was all over me, kissing my neck and feeling my tits and not taking no for an answer.

  I asked her what she was doing and she just said she was going to fuck me stupid. Pretty clever for a girl without a dick, but she pulled off my dress and bra and then my thong and she was between my legs, her tongue right on my clit. I didn’t even think about the boys after that. In any case, they’d stopped shouting and I guess they thought they knew the game and could wait as long as we could. It never occurred to me they could be doing the same with each other, but at that moment I wouldn’t have cared. Lo had two fingers right inside, driving me mad by scraping her nails on that really sensitive bit on my front vaginal wall that I can never quite reach, and at the same time doing long, slow licks right up the length of my crack. After a bit, she got me to wet one of her fingers on her left hand and speared that up my bum too. I’m still not sure about whether I liked that or not.

  She made me come, though, a few times. Between each one she’d let me relax a bit and we’d snog. It was kinda kinky tasting my juice on her lips. I could see white blobs of it on her chin, too, and I was so pissed I just licked it off.

  All this time, pissed and blessed out as I was, I still had at the back of my mind the thought that she’d expect the same in return. It took the edge off what she was doing a bit. She realized my mind was off somewhere else and she told me I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want. That took the pressure off me in one way, but I dumbly put myself right back in the frame. For starters, I’ve always been quite competitive, so I wasn’t going to let her get one over. I thought if she could do it, so could I.

  Knowing, all of a sudden, that I was going to give back as much as I got took the pressure away and I could enjoy what she was doing more, even to the point of grabbing her head and actually rubbing myself off on her. We ended up with her flat-out on the bed and me on top of her face, her tongue going right inside. I know we’re supposed to like clitoral sex over penetration any day, but that was amazing. There I was with her slurping noisily away under me and her whole body stretched out before me. She was still dressed but her skirt was up round her waist and her tits had popped over the top, so I reached forwards and shoved my hand down her knickers. She was so incredibly wet there and I put two fingers right inside and sort of pulled. It must have got her sensitive bits because she stopped licking me for a sec and just moaned out.

  I stopped. She took the hint and carried on. I pulled again, she stopped again. It was like a game, till she reached up and put her hand on the back of my head to tip me over. I let her bend me forwards until my face was right down there. I thought, it’s now or never, and pulled off her thong and pushed my face in. It was like sliding about in oil, with her warm fluid all over my mouth and chin – I even dipped my nose inside her and got that all slicked up too.

  What surprised me about all this is how long we kept at it. With Darren, a long sex session was maybe half an hour, but with Lo we’d been at it maybe two hours and were still going strong and still getting a lot out of it. At no point did it get boring and we seemed to flow from one thing to the next like we were fluid. With Darren, when we changed position, it was like, stop doing this, start doing that, almost like an advert break. With Lo, we just flowed from one thing to the next.

  I’ve done a 69 with Darren, sure, but I don’t like it when he’s on top because he just rams his dick down and I feel like I’m going to choke. Nearly every time we’ve tried that I had to stop him. This 69 with Lo, though, had no dangers like that. We could, and did, roll over now and again so the other one was on top. Sometimes one of us would feel the need to rise up and sit down on the other one’s face and just enjoy it solo for a bit, which wasn’t selfish because we knew we’d get our turn. With Darren, if he came, that was it. When Lo came, she paused for a few seconds then carried on. Maybe I am a dormant lesbian.

  Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, sitting astride Lo’s face, that’s where. We’d worked around so I was facing the other way, with her body on the bed behind me. In front of me there was just the whitewashed wall, which was very useful for something to lean against, since I was in serious danger of just passing out from the sensations. Looking down my body, I could see her eyes looking up at me just above what looked a bit like a beard, but was my pubes. She was muttering something but nothing much was coming out because I was pressing down on her mouth. Eventually I lifted off a bit so she could talk.

  “My turn,” she was saying, adding “please” afterwards and looking up a bit desperate-like. So I arranged her over the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor and knelt down between them with her legs on my shoulders and my face buried right between her thighs. It felt so natural to be doing it. Next thing, there’s a banging at the door and the boys saying we’d had our joke now so open up because they wanted a shag. Crude or what? But Lo gave as good as we got. She shouted, “Fuck off, she’s licking my cunt.”

  The boys were really angry, but more because we didn’t let them watch than anything else. The atmosphere wasn’t very good the next day, but we just thought it was funny and kept on with the lesbian stuff, like both getting in the back of the car when we went out and snogging as they drove. Eventually their hard dicks got the better of them and they pulled over and watched us. I quite like being watched.

  I imagined coming home and back to reality would turn it all back to normal, especially when we came down from what felt like a continual alcoholic haze. But the boys weren’t about to let us forget and they had loads of camera shots to remind us, as if we needed reminding. Most weekends we see them and we meet up, and most weekends Lo and I end up snogging or having sex together. They boys don’t get fed up with watching and we don’t get fed up with doing, so it’s OK, right?

  The boys don’t know this, but sometimes Lo and I meet up without them. We feel like naughty kids having a secret. We bought some vibrators and an amazing strap-on cock and we use them on each other. The best are what I think they call butterflies. They’re tiny vibros with straps that fix them right between our lips. We wear them when we go out for lunch or shopping and we tuck the controls in our belts or pockets so the other one can reach. We muck about, so maybe when Lo’s paying at the checkout I flip her button on, literally. Lo’s found a place that sells radio-controlled ones but they’re a bit dear so we haven’t bought any yet. When we get back home we are hot, hot, hot for each other and end up like in a man-woman fucking position with the butterflies buzzing together as we grind each other.

  Does all this mean I’m a lesbo? Bi, maybe. Do I care? What do you think LOL.

  PLAYING WITH FIRE

  Jennifer, London

  The sight of her wearing nothing but a strap-on is quite possibly the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.

  I became instantly wet as I peered over my book to see her standing proud in the door way, and then lost for words, which was made evident by my gaping mouth as I watched her cross the room towards me. Her stare was fierce and the plastic toy bounced freely between her legs; it was a combination that served to tempt me in ways I had never felt before. There was a warranted confidence in e
very step she took and my heart pounded in my chest as she got closer.

  She looked dangerous, scary, so fucking hot. Her red lips were perfect for biting, which she showed me vividly as she sucked one between her teeth, and her auburn hair was the perfect complement to the fire burning in her eyes. It was from a bottle, of course, but you’d never know as much; she wore it well. My God, she’s beautiful.

  For some reason I felt nervous, but the storm of anxiety in the pit of my stomach only added to my desire, made me crave her more. This wasn’t unfamiliar territory for us – you can’t quite beat the full feeling of a silicone cock – but the dark, strangely inviting glaze that clouded over her normally bright blue eyes, and the stare that I was certain would burn straight through me, told me that tonight was different; tonight was about something else entirely.

  “Come here.” She stopped before she reached the sofa, and I blindly followed her command, completely unable to do anything but.

  My eyes didn’t leave her as I made my way slowly, tentatively, over to her, and my body trembled slightly – with desire, with nerves; I wasn’t certain.

  A small sob escaped me as she grabbed a fistful of my dark hair and pressed those luscious red lips to my ear. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Her words were a whisper but they blazed against my skin and I could feel her lips curl into a smug half-smile.

  I couldn’t honestly say that I was wholly certain what it was that she’d “found out” but I barely had chance to contemplate it before she bit down on my ear lobe and I whimpered once more. I couldn’t work out if I was turned on or in pain, afraid or excited, but as she ripped open the buttons of my shirt, ridding me of the garment, I felt all the moisture in my body flood south, and suddenly the answer didn’t seem important anymore.