Best Lesbian Erotica 2015

by Laura Antoniou

  It didn’t seem to matter. Instinct took over. We knew each other on an animal level—we always had. We let the animals come out to play.

  Time stood still. Only pleasure remained. And though I couldn’t see Haley’s face or hear her voice—our mouths were full—I knew exactly what she felt, what she wanted. The old magic seized us. We climbed toward orgasm together. We exploded at the same instant. Afterward, we lay sated and drained on the floor, wreathed in the odors of sex, sweat and stale popcorn.

  The shrill call of my phone broke the spell. I groped in my skirt. The caller gave up before I found the device. I squinted at the display.

  “Damn! Suzy!”

  “Cute little Suzy Roberts?” Haley’s voice was still languid with sex.

  “Yeah. She’s babysitting for me… Oh, shit! It’s twelve thirty already.” I didn’t want to talk to Suze. I sent her a quick text, telling her I was fine and that I’d be back soon. Then I tried to button the ruins of my blouse. “I’ve got to get home.”

  Haley was on her feet, pulling her tight jeans up over her obviously damp thighs. “I’ll give you a lift.”

  I fumbled for the theater keys. “No, you go ahead. I have to lock up all the exits.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can wait. Haven’t got anyplace else I’ve gotta be…”

  Her eyes followed me as I locked and tested each of the doors. I felt the heat in her gaze. She wanted more. And I…?

  What I wanted didn’t matter. I’d already made a terrible mistake.

  The bike’s engine was growling by the time I’d finished securing the main theater doors. “Climb on, baby. You wear the helmet. Fourteen-twenty-two Spring Ave, right?”

  She’d done her homework. If I hadn’t been working tonight, would she have shown up at the house?

  The powerful cycle whipped around the corner and raced through the shadowy streets. I hung on for dear life, my arms around Haley’s waist, my chest pressed against her warm back. I tried to ignore the effects of her closeness. I shut out the quivering pleasure set up by the engine’s vibrations between my splayed thighs. Enough sex tonight, I told myself. Enough.

  I couldn’t see much, but after five minutes I knew we were going in the wrong direction. For one thing, we were climbing.

  “Hey!” I yelled. The wind whisked my voice away. “Where are you taking me?” I pounded my fists against Haley’s back. She paid no attention whatsoever. She might have been made of granite.

  When the engine died, I snatched off the helmet. “What do you think you’re doing? You think this is funny?”

  Haley shook her head. “Not funny at all, Di.” Something in her tone froze my indignation.

  I looked around. “Broad Hill. I haven’t been up here since…” The town stretched below us like a set of toys, glittering and unreal.

  “Yeah. Me neither.” She stepped toward me.

  “Haley, please…no.” When she gathered me into her arms, though, I didn’t fight—not her at least. I only fought myself. Her kiss was gentle as mist.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow, Di. Come with me.”

  Oh god. Her scent. Her voice. The flow of hard muscle under her sun-bronzed skin.

  “I can’t. You know I can’t. I have a child, Haley…”

  Her hands wandered over my curves, waking pleasure everywhere they touched. “We’re good together, Di. We always were.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “You made the wrong choice last time. Not everyone gets a second chance. Choose me, baby. I swear I’ll make you happy.”

  She cupped my pubis through my skirt, waking echoes of orgasms, recent and remembered.

  “You deserve this, Di, after all the shit he put you through.” With a simple tweak of my nipple, she rekindled the fever.

  She was right. I deserved better. I’d had better and I’d thrown it away for social status and acceptability. I’d thought that Haley was just a fling. I was so, so wrong.

  But now? I wanted her. I wanted to go with her, to be with her. I didn’t care what the world thought. But more than my life was at stake now. I had to consider JJ.

  “I can’t leave my boy.”

  “Let Jack’s mother keep him. She’s earned the right. Or—what the hell—bring him along. I’m not much for kids, but if he’s your flesh and blood, Di, I’m sure I can deal.”

  “And tear him away from his roots? His family? His friends? Life on the road—with someone like you—that’s not any kind of life for a child.”

  “Someone like me?” I heard ten years of pain in her voice. She took a step backward, releasing her hold. I mourned the loss.

  “You haven’t changed, Di. You’re still the same stuck-up little priss who’s all worried about what other people are gonna think.”

  “No, it’s not that, really…”

  “Let me point out that you’re not the head of the cheer-leading squad anymore. You’re no debutante. You’re a single mom stuck in a dead-end job in a nowhere town. There ain’t no fairy-tale prince coming to rescue you. If you stay, you’ll just get old, lonely and bitter.”

  Her words stung. I didn’t want the future she painted for me here in Granville. Still, I couldn’t imagine a future that included her and my child, too. “It’s too late, Haley. We can’t rewrite the past.”

  “You’re just making excuses. You’re scared, Di. Scared to leave your familiar life, even though you hate it. Scared to show the world you love another woman.”

  I tried to picture a life with Haley. I could imagine the sex, vividly. But the rest? Would she ever settle? And what about JJ, forced to grow up with two mommies?

  She read me, as she always could. “You won’t come with me then?” Her voice was flat, dead.

  “I can’t. Try to understand.”

  “You’re a fool, Diane Stone.” She used my maiden name. Mounting her beast, she picked up the helmet and kicked the engine to life. “We won’t meet again.”

  “Don’t go! Don’t leave me here…” The cycle swung in a wide arc. My chest felt ready to burst from the pain. I couldn’t live without this woman.

  A star winked above our heads. Something shifted in my desperate mind. All at once, the impossible became possible. “Wait!” I screamed. “Turn that damn thing off for a minute.”

  “What? Change your mind?”

  “You really think we can bring JJ with us?”

  “If he’s your son, I’ll love him like my own.”

  Two mommies. But what the hell—that was twice as good as none.

  I sucked the balmy night air into my lungs and summoned my courage. That first kiss behind the Brass Kettle had been tough, too, but worth it, in the end. “I’ll come then. We’ll come.”

  Haley brushed her short hair away from her face, scratched her head, gazed up at the sky arching over us. Finally she shrugged and gave me one of those knowing grins that turn me to mush.

  “Hop on, Di. Let’s go home and pick up our kid.”

  NAMING IT

  Jean Roberta

  “No.” Deirdre looked especially waiflike as she shook her head, causing her golden-brown locks to part around her small, pink ears.

  Tam (named Tammy-Lynne at birth) was amused. “Deirdre of the Sorrows,” she sighed. “Do you plan to grieve for your lost love forever?” Tam wrapped one strong arm around Deirdre’s thin shoulders, and soon found herself clutching the air.

  “Fuck off!” Deirdre’s eyes were the color of a storm at sea. “I’m not like you. I can’t just hop on the next one that comes along. Paulie asked me to move in with her and I said yes. Do you know what a big commitment that was? I thought I could trust her. And then—” Deirdre took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. “Shit.”

  “Some butches be crazy,” Tam said agreeably. “Getting it on with Sherry in a public washroom was not the best way for her to show you how much she wanted to share her life with you. ’Specially when you were there in the bar, drinking. As my mom says, what goes in must come out. I wonder how much
time Paulie thought she had before you would need to use the facilities.”

  Tam fought down the urge to burst out laughing. The scene in the bar the night before had been like a fireworks display. Deirdre had made no effort to be discreet when she realized what Paulie and Sherry were doing in a crowded cubicle. The sound of Deirdre’s fists banging on the metal door had reverberated through the bar like a bass line, with the screech of Deir-dre’s outraged voice as the melody. Everyone in the lesbian bar and gossip center had been given a topic of conversation for a week.

  As a singer-songwriter, Tam enjoyed watching a certain amount of drama. It was inspiring.

  She didn’t blame Murphy, the bouncer, for throwing them all out on the street. Murphy was paid to keep trouble out of the bar, and she had been a deadpan professional. The three troublemakers had landed on that square in a board game that says MISS A TURN. Tam was simply a hanger-on who chose to leave with them. As the coolest head in the group, she felt that her presence was needed.

  Deirdre had been like a porcelain vase full of dynamite that seemed likely to blow apart. Tam knew that most of that rage was based on hurt, fear and self-contempt. Even so, the scene had been sexy as hell.

  Tam would have liked to defend Deirdre from one of the other dykes, if necessary. Of course, that could only happen if one of them threw the first punch. Tam had mastered enough self-defense moves to know that they should only be used as a last resort; some moves could kill. She wouldn’t admit, even to herself, that she wanted to find out how deadly her fists could be.

  Today Deirdre was hungover from an excess of emotion, not an excess of booze. Tam knew that two drinks per night were her limit. She sat curled up on her sofa, her bare feet in Tam’s lap. They had known each other since they were both in elementary school, and they had comforted each other through many disappointments.

  “I don’t—” Deirdre started.

  “I don’t mean—” said Tam. She stopped, not wanting Deirdre to feel silenced.

  “You first,” said Deirdre. This was awkward. Tam reflected that chivalry was sometimes hard to practice in the real world. She liked to think of herself as a gentleman.

  Tam started again. “I don’t mean you should rush out and find someone else right away. I know it takes time. I just think you need to stay away from her until you feel stronger, and you need to think about your future, that’s all. That’s all I said.”

  “That’s not all you said.” Deirdre’s memory seemed remarkably clear under the circumstances. Her small, firm breasts still rose and fell with her breath in a way that made it hard for a listener to focus on her words. “Tam, I know you mean well. I’m really glad you were there. I don’t know what I would have done if—but you made it sound as if you thought I was, like—”

  Tam waited a beat, then jumped in. “Like Paulie?”

  “Yes. A player. Someone who plays all the time and doesn’t give a shit. Someone who promises what they don’t mean. I can’t do that.” Tears welled up in Deirdre’s eyes. “Jesus, Tam, do you think I’m a complete fool?”

  This was clearly a time for diplomacy, but it was also a good time to seize the moment. Tam gathered Deirdre into her arms and rocked her. “Honey,” she said into the fine, wavy, honey-colored hair that grazed Deirdre’s shoulders. “Paulie’s the fool, not you. She’s the one who lost out.”

  To Tam’s delight, Deirdre didn’t slither away, as she usually did. “Thank you,” she said, nestled against Tam’s collarbone. “For not saying you told me so. I know you thought I should go slow, and I didn’t. I wanted a home and a serious relationship, you know? We’re not kids anymore.”

  While Tam was still gathering her thoughts, Deirdre shifted her position so she could look her old friend in the eyes. “Did you call me honey?”

  Tam saw her dark eyes and strong features reflected in the troubled gray pools of Deirdre’s. “I did, and I could call you other things too: sweet thing, baby, angel-face.”

  Something rippled through Deirdre’s supple body. “Always joking, that’s you,” she said. “That’s why we could never really be an item, even though you’re my best friend. Sometimes I wish—”

  Deirdre’s phone rang for the sixth time that morning. She glanced at it, saw the name PAULIE DIDDLE once again, and made a visible effort to ignore the sound.

  “Good girl,” said Tam. She tightened her embrace and kissed Deirdre on the lips before she could pull away.

  “Ummph,” said Deirdre. Tam held her close and slipped the tip of her tongue between Deirdre’s lips.

  Deirdre broke the kiss. “What the fuck, Tam?” she asked. Tam knew how Deirdre sounded when she was really angry, and this question had a different tone. She was curious, even intrigued.

  “What do you think, baby?” responded Tam the seducer. “Let’s try it.”

  “You’re my friend, Tam,” said Deirdre, as though explaining the incest taboo. “Who will I turn to if you let me down?”

  “I won’t, honey.” Tam pulled Deirdre onto her lap, and the lightweight woman settled herself as gracefully as a cat.

  Whatever might happen, Tam knew she would get at least one new song out of this episode. A few bluesy notes began to form a pattern in her mind.

  “You don’t have to feel sorry for me, Tam,” the lap-rider was sniffing. “I’ll be okay.”

  Tam lovingly kneaded Deirdre’s backbone, one vertebra at a time. “Maybe you will,” said Tam, aiming for a tone that was halfway between promise and threat. “I want to take advantage of you.” Deirdre shivered under her hands. “I don’t host parties for charity,” Tam growled.

  Deirdre wavered, sighed and moaned. Her eyes were wet. She seemed to be arguing silently with herself. “What the hell?” she asked herself aloud. “Oh, Tam.” She pulled Tam’s face to hers for a fierce kiss. Tongue met tongue in Deirdre’s mouth.

  After a few delicious moments, Tam tugged at Deirdre’s T-shirt, and the wearer leaned back to pull the fabric up over her head. Deirdre then unhooked her bra, releasing her breasts into Tam’s eager hands. Deirdre’s nipples were like hard, pink berries.

  For some reason, Tam’s eyes fell on one of Deirdre’s textbooks, splayed open on the coffee table. Tam hadn’t taken Deir-dre’s ambition seriously enough when she had applied to get into law school, but now Deirdre was in her second year and doing well. Even as a child, Deirdre had always risen to a challenge.

  “You too,” she murmured, as though she wanted Tam to know she wouldn’t accept any stone-butch behavior. Tam was soon naked to the waist, her full breasts bouncing a little as Deirdre felt, then squeezed them. “Bodacious,” she snickered.

  Tam couldn’t help turning red. What kind of lover did Deirdre want her to be, and did the sight of her womanly boobs clash with Deirdre’s fantasies? Apparently not. Deirdre didn’t seem at all disappointed.

  Two pairs of jeans and panties were the next things to go. The emergence of Deirdre’s lithe, pale hips and her triangle of light-brown hair lit a fire in Tam’s own crotch. She wanted to explore the treasure-trove that Paulie had lost because of her own stupid greed.

  While holding Deirdre on her lap, Tam managed to slide two fingers inside a wet opening to tickle Deirdre’s clit. “I need you to lie down,” Tam ordered, hoping her girl was horny enough not to rebel against a bossy command.

  “Oh, Tam,” moaned Deirdre, scrambling into position. She was a pit of need, a hotbed of molten lava. Tam found her way in with questioning fingers that soon found answers. Tam could hardly believe that Deirdre wanted this, needed to be fucked by Tam, of all people, after so many jokes and evasions.

  Tam lowered her mouth to Deirdre’s dark-pink inner lips and spread them slightly with one hand to expose her swollen clit. The secret, salty taste of Deirdre’s juice was a reward in itself. Tam stroked and circled and plunged far enough in to feel the slight dent of Deirdre’s cervix, the entrance to her womb.

  Deirdre’s rising moans let Tam know she was on the right track. Tam needed to find the exac
t right spots inside a hungry cunt that needed to be touched, gently or roughly, to unleash Deirdre’s considerable energy. Tam knew she wanted to let go, to let it all out.

  Tam found ridges inside Deirdre, and scratched them experimentally. She prodded a spongy place and felt the slickness shift and move. “Ohhh,” yelled Deirdre. “Don’t—stop!” Tam kept going as Deirdre’s muscles squeezed around her fingers and wetness poured out of her.

  When Deirdre seemed somewhat recovered, Tam pressed her palm against her girl’s slit, enjoying the wet warmth and the hot woman-smell that floated up to her nose. The dazed look on Deirdre’s face almost moved Tam to tears, and she slid down to wrap Deirdre in her arms.

  For a few minutes, both women seemed perfectly content. Even the persistent tingle in Tam’s cunt was enjoyable.

  Tam thought of her collection of dicks in various colors, sizes and materials. She wished she had thought of bringing one with her, but then she wondered about Deirdre’s possible reaction. Were fake penises Politically Incorrect in her philosophy? Were they acceptable if they didn’t look much like anything that grew on a human male, or any other mammal? How did Deirdre feel about butt plugs? Bondage? Role-play? Tam was aghast that she and Deirdre had never discussed such a broad and diverse topic.

  Deirdre moved. “Heh,” she snickered, and reached down to find Tam’s clit.

  “You don’t have to—” started Tam. Then she couldn’t finish her sentence. You don’t have to pay me back? You don’t have to feel sorry for me? Tam remembered how insulted she felt when Deirdre had told her she didn’t “have to.”

  Deirdre was swift and skillful, and Tam was already near the point of an explosion. Deirdre tormented Tam’s clit by squeezing and rolling it until Tam felt her whole cunt erupting in spasms.

  Somehow the two women shifted into a comfortable side-by-side position. “Honey,” sighed Tam, “it was better than I ever expected.” Impulsively she added, “I love you.”

  “No you don’t,” came the response. Deirdre’s voice was soothing, but her words hurt like needles. “You love me as a friend and that’s good, but we can’t afford to get confused about what’s going on.”