The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Confessions

by Barbara Cardy

  With deft fingers she parted my lips, her tongue immediately finding my swollen nub and, taking the gentle bean in her lips, she sucked hard, almost pulling me into orgasm too quickly. Before I could relish the sensation building within me, her fingers were teasing the entrance to my vagina, pinching and squeezing the skin on either side, moving within me and then back to the edge. Each thrust was pure ecstasy. I remained at her mercy, her tongue groping about in the darkness of my mound, first up and down, then around, and then back and forth, each move as sensational as the last, each pause for air, pure torment! I scratched at her wet skin on her back. I felt beyond reason; I had lost all sense of place, all sense of who and where I was. All that mattered was this feeling, this ache burning deep inside of me that was pure bliss and pure hell at the same time. I didn’t know what to do with myself, my head tossed frantically with each new sensation and my hands couldn’t find anywhere to grip or anything of Lacey to grasp until, ah, her hair, and her head! I had an ounce of control and I was reminded of that first meeting when she took my head in her hands and forced me to eat her until she lost control.

  I wanted her fingers faster and harder – they were so slender that two wasn’t enough, my aching pussy wanted more – and I breathlessly begged her for more, to which she obliged. Without a break in movement, a third and then a fourth finger of Lacey’s delicate hand thrust deep inside me. I jolted but surrendered to the additional stretch and feeling of fullness. Her thrusting became harder as my orgasm grew and her lips had replaced her tongue, sucking greedily on my over-sensitive clit. My hands tangled in her hair as I tugged hard and pushed her impatiently into my mound. I was almost there, I could feel it building, taking over, and, without thinking, I moaned, deep, loud and echoing as my orgasm crashed over me, my own juices erupting powerfully from deep within me in a forceful spray that didn’t seem to end as I near enough collapsed, breathless and incoherent against her body.

  Without faltering, Lacey guided me gently back to standing and held me close to her, stoking me whilst I was allowed to enjoy every sensation of my fading orgasm. Her lips met mine again, with less passion this time, and a pleased smile played at the corners of her mouth. We kissed for what seemed an eternity, the heat of lust building in me again as our hands wandered further than just each other’s backs. I felt sure that we were about to make love in the shower again when a gaggle of excited voices disturbed us and I was slapped back to reality.

  Being closest to the curtain, Lacey was first to emerge, flushed and naked, into the shower block, not caring that her body was visible to the gathering crowd of successful swimmers who were beginning to collect their belongings, ready to change. I covered my nakedness, sure that the signs of what we had experienced in the shower cubicle were obvious on my face and on my body. A small, rotund woman wearing a lurid swimming cap gazed at me, a sneer of disgust on her face as she saw us both emerge from the same cubicle, and as I passed her I muttered that only one shower was functional. I quickly located my clothing and dried without looking up, convinced everyone could witness my shame, and yet at the same time I felt strong, proud and beyond redemption.

  How could something so wonderful, so exhilarating and so natural be so wrong? Lacey was waiting for me in the café as planned. Two lattes steamed on the table as she waved and patted the seat next to hers. I joined her, still excited at the thought of our actions and hungry for more of her body, more of her touch. We drank our coffee and chatted about the mundane issues of everyday life – work, plans for the weeks ahead, possible summer holidays – and remembered to swap contact numbers so that we could meet again.

  We drained our drink as it neared time for the centre to close and walked back to our cars without touching or saying a word about what had occurred. Reaching mine first, we chatted for so long that the leisure centre’s motion sensor lights went out. We were left in near darkness at the rear of the building and with great excitement we grasped for each other again, leaning onto the side of the car, our hands and mouths passionate and full of want for each other. Lost in each other’s kiss and aching for more, we were rudely disturbed by the security light coming back on, but to my surprise Lacey didn’t withdraw.

  She looked at me as she remained pressed against me and asked if we could meet again the following week. I eagerly responded yes and giggled at the cloak-and-dagger nature of it all. Lacey suggested that we meet at the leisure centre then go back to my flat where we would be more at leisure to relax and explore. It sounded a magnificent suggestion, but having agreed that was the plan, Lacey looked forlorn. I pulled her in close, wondering if she had realized that our arrangement meant betraying her husband, and whispered that it was her decision and that I wouldn’t force her. She threw her head back and laughed the naughtiest laugh I had ever heard before taking my face in her hands and kissing me on the lips.

  “The only issue I have, gorgeous, is how I convince my husband that I have been to aqua aerobics when I don’t reek of the pool!”

  GOLDEN SHOWERS WITH THE LANDLORD’S DAUGHTER

  Irene, Kelowna

  For my second year at university, I moved out of residence dorms and into a townhouse near campus. The newspaper listing had said “basement apartment,” but that wasn’t entirely accurate, since my “apartment” didn’t have a bathroom in it. Really, I was renting a bedroom with a microwave. To use the bathroom, I had to climb two flights of stairs and share with my landlord’s daughter, Emma.

  I never felt comfortable climbing upstairs in the middle of the night. Usually, I was up late studying or writing papers, and I hated the idea of disturbing the family. They were nice people. I didn’t want to bother them by turning on lights and flushing toilets at two in the morning.

  One day, not long after I’d moved in, I was moving furniture around when I accidentally flipped up the carpet in my room. There was no subflooring. They’d put the broadloom down on bare concrete, and right near the corner there was a drain. A drain! It was a circle about three or four inches across, with a metal grate over it. Even after I’d covered it back up, I kept thinking about it.

  Later that night, after two cups of tea and a bottle of water, I felt that heaviness in my pelvis. I needed to pee. The family had obviously gone to bed – there were no footsteps or TV sounds coming from upstairs – and that drain under the carpet was looking pretty appealing. What difference did it make if I peed in the floor? A drain was a drain, right? Those pipes all went to the same place.

  So I lifted the carpet and pushed down my pyjama pants, kicking them across the room. All I had to do was squat. The drain was in the perfect position for me to press my back against the wall, so I knew I wouldn’t fall over. I spread my legs wide, staring down at the drain. I’d never had to aim my stream before. I didn’t know if I could pull it off. Hopefully I wouldn’t spritz all over the carpet.

  It took a couple seconds before I could let loose. The feeling of peeing without being on a toilet was really strange at first, but kind of exhilarating. I felt kind of dirty, kind of naughty, like I was doing something I shouldn’t be doing. And I guess I was. I don’t think the family would appreciate it if they knew I was peeing on their floor.

  The drain became my late-night secret place. Every day I looked forward to using it the same way I used to look forward to getting myself off with my vibrator or my fingers.

  Sometimes after my stream died down, I would flick my clit, rub it around a little and bring myself to orgasm in no time. I have no idea what turned me on about crouching in the corner of my bedroom to pee, but my pussy was always super-wet by the time I’d finished. Often, if I fucked myself with my fingers, I could get myself to squirt even more liquid. It would spray all over my palm and drip down from my hand. I wondered if I was the only girl in the world who did things like this. I couldn’t imagine it was common.

  One night I guess I was playing my music a little too loud, because as I crouched by the wall my door opened up. There was a lock, but I hardly ever used it. No one
usually came down to the basement.

  When I looked up, my landlord’s daughter, Emma, was standing in my doorway wearing nothing but a cotton nightgown. She was four years older than me and finished school, but she hadn’t found a job yet and still lived at home. If anyone in the family had to walk in on me, at least it was her.

  Emma’s eyes flew open and her jaw dropped, then she turned away and I’m sure I saw her smile. She said she was sorry, she didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but my music had woken her up. Her long blonde hair fell in a straggly side-ponytail across her shoulder and down her chest. It drew my gaze to her nipples, which were hard and pink enough to see right through her white nightie. She caught me staring and crossed her arms over her chest.

  I should have been ashamed that she’d walked in on me half naked, but I really wasn’t. That said, I would have pulled up my pyjama pants if I hadn’t kicked them across the room. Emma stepped into my room and closed the door, heading to my stereo while I stayed crouched against the wall. She turned down the volume, then shifted closer to me and kneeled over the drain in the floor.

  It was like a dream. This pretty girl, this girl who slept two floors above me, pulled her nightie up just above her waist. She wasn’t wearing any panties. Emma’s pubic hair was thick and golden, totally natural. I loved the way those lovely hairs curled like ringlets on a doll’s porcelain head. She had the prettiest pussy I’d ever seen.

  “Go,” she said, looking up at me with eyes like aquamarine jewels.

  “Go?” I asked. She couldn’t possibly mean what I thought she meant. “Go as in . . . pee?”

  Emma nodded solemnly, like this was a very serious matter to her. She said, “Go on me.”

  My breath stuck like a fishbone in my throat. I didn’t think I could do it. As much as I wanted to, I was really nervous. It seemed too surreal and strange. And then Emma lifted her nightgown all the way up and held the hem under her chin. The moment I got a good look at her little naked breasts with their sweet pink buds, my legs turned to jelly.

  I pressed my shoulders back against the wall and let go, spraying a concentrated stream into Emma’s pubic hair. It soaked her skin, running down her pussy lips and into the drain. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in all my life! The way my piss clung to her pretty blonde hairs like little drops of rain really put me over the top. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

  When I was finished peeing, I asked if she had to go, although I wasn’t quite sure if I was hoping for a yes or a no. Sure, Emma looked amazing with droplets of my piss clinging to her pubic hair, but that didn’t necessarily mean I wanted to be peed on too. On the other hand, fair is fair. Tit for tat.

  She said she didn’t have to pee, not at the moment, and she let her cotton nightie fall down to cover her nakedness. Her nightgown wasn’t long. It only went down to her thighs, and didn’t even reach her knees. Covered in my piss, she stood up and walked across the room. Then she was gone. Just like that.

  I stayed in position, back against the wall, for a good long time. Maybe I did want to be peed on after all. Or maybe I just wanted her to hang around. Hard to say.

  Eventually, I got up, put on my pyjama pants, and went back to work. There was always work to do. Always. So I immersed myself in my studies, trying to forget about everything that had happened. I couldn’t, of course. I missed Emma and I wanted her back.

  It wasn’t uncommon that I fell asleep with my head on my desk, so it was a bolt from the blue when Emma tapped me on the shoulder. I shot up and gasped, because I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or awake. She still had on that same white cotton nightie, and I really liked her in it. It was sexy without trying. She was the kind of girl who didn’t have to try. All she had to do was say something like, “I need to pee.”

  I gulped, which made me feel really stupid, but she laughed and that put me at ease. I asked where she wanted to do it, which was a dumb question. She lifted up the corner of the carpet to expose the drain and she told me get ready. Little did she know I’d been ready since the moment she walked out that door!

  This time, I stripped bare. I took off my pyjama pants and my T-shirt and tossed them across the room. The way she looked at me made me a little uneasy, not because of the sheer fiery lust in her eyes, but because of the fear that she might be judging me. My body wasn’t as lean and lithe as hers, and I wondered what she thought of my pubic hair. It was dark, almost black, and trimmed neatly but not quite shaved. I just hoped she liked it.

  My turn to kneel. I took up the position Emma had held last time, and she in turn squatted against the wall. My nipples went hard in the cool night air, and I saw that she noticed. Mine were much darker than hers – not really pink, more of a cherry-brown. They pursed into sharp little pebbles until they were so staunchly erect they almost hurt.

  She told me to touch them. “Squeeze your tits while I piss on you.” That’s what she said. I remember the exact words because they turned me on so much, I could have come right then and there.

  Opening her legs, she lifted her nightgown and gave me a good look at her pussy as those pink lips splayed gently. Poetic people talk about pussy lips opening like flowers, and as much as I hate clichés, Emma’s really did look that way – soft, gorgeous petals parting so I could see the pinkest part of her. Her pussy was pretty small, but, man, was she ever wet. I could see the glisten of her juices as she held her lips open with two fingers.

  “Squeeze your tits,” she said again, because I hadn’t done it yet. She was watching me intently as I took my nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I pressed those desperate buds and a streak of pleasure shot through me, all the way down to my clit. It felt so good. I couldn’t get over it.

  Emma asked if I was ready, and I said yes even though I was nervous as hell. She adjusted her position against the wall, and I wondered if maybe she was nervous too. Then she pulled her nightie up high enough that I could see her small, pale breasts, and she let out her flow.

  At first, her pee just sort of dripped down on the concrete. She wasn’t putting enough power behind it. I told her to close her eyes, and when she did, her stream came out so strong it struck me square in the clit. I hissed at the hot liquid sensation, and Emma opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw how good it looked. Her golden piss pummelled my pussy. The liquid touched my skin right through my pubic hair, getting it all warm and wet. I watched her piss drip down from my lips to the drain, and the sight made me want to touch my throbbing clit.

  So I did.

  Emma’s piss was still falling on my pussy when I reached down and started stroking myself. She gasped and said, “Oh, God,” but her stream came out even stronger, striking my fingers as I rubbed off.

  “It makes me so horny,” I told her. “Pissing turns me on so much.”

  She said, “Me too,” and when she started teasing her own clit, I really believed her. She hadn’t quite finished pissing yet, and her golden liquid sprayed all over her thighs as she stroked herself in firm, fast circles.

  I wanted to come and I told her so. I knew I would get there, probably faster than her, and I worked myself into a frenzy as Emma’s piss dripped down from my fingers. I worked my clit up and down while she went at hers in circles. Our pussies made the hottest squelching sounds I’d ever heard as we both put ourselves over the edge.

  She was so beautiful when she came. I loved the way she arched her long neck and panted with her mouth open in a half smile, like it was some kind of divine joke. She banged her head against the wall, then laughed and said, “Owww,” and laughed some more. I laughed too, rolling back on the carpet where it was right-side-up. It wasn’t long before she followed me down.

  Falling on top of my wet, naked body, Emma kissed me sweetly on the mouth. We’d just gotten off, and already I was craving more! My cunt was a pulpy, heavy mess of piss and pussy juice. I’d come so hard it almost hurt, and I didn’t think I could stand any more pleasure, but I also knew that I’d give my landlord’s daughter anything she
wanted.

  If she wanted me, I was hers.

  Emma leaned away from me, and all at once I got scared that she would up and leave again. She didn’t. Weaving her long, lean legs through mine, she scissored me right there on the floor.

  I gasped when she pressed her pussy flush to mine. We were both still wet with her piss, and that knowledge just about put me over the edge once again. She wiggled between my legs, trying to find the best position, and I shifted closer, jamming my throbbing clit against her.

  When she threw her head back and hissed, I knew I’d caught her right on the sweet spot. We were perfectly connected, clit on clit. This was it. I watched her hands ride up her belly as she writhed against me, and I hoped and prayed she would grab her tits. Those sweet, pink buds were just begging for it.

  I gave her the instruction. I told Emma to squeeze her nipples, and she did, without question. The moment she pressed on those gorgeous tits, she arched up off the floor, squealing and hollering. I was so jealous of her reaction that I followed suit, pressing my own nipples yet again.

  The response was immediate, and so intense I couldn’t tamp down my arousal. I came again, smashing my wet pussy against Emma’s and screaming so loud she started shushing me, saying, “My parents will hear! We’ll get in trouble.”

  She stayed with me that night, slept in my bed all wrapped up in my arms. I’d never experienced pleasures so intense. Emma was everything I could ask for: kinky, quirky, smart and too beautiful for words. After that first night of golden showers and screaming orgasms, I knew we’d be together forever.