Best Lesbian Erotica 2015

by Laura Antoniou

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” I shout. And I am, the muscles spasming in waves, crushing her fingers, my legs rigid, my toes curled tight with the strength of the orgasm. Then the hot gush of ejaculate begins, spurting, not like the flood I’m used to, but a definite stream that splashes over her latex-covered hands and wets the towel beneath me.

  I am gasping for breath, my face and shoulders hot and flushed. She smiles and cocks her head. “That you are. That you are, my brave, brave Murcielago.”

  She lies down beside me and strokes me, her face snuggled into the space between my shoulder and my head. I pull her in and we cuddle.

  Carina did it. She made me come. She pushed a finger right through the middle of the Big C and gave me back the heart of myself.

  “Fuck cancer,” I say, and she turns my head over to face her.

  She kisses me. Smooch. Smooch. Smooch.

  Now, it doesn’t seem like a gramma thing. Now it’s our thing.

  She lifts my strap-on and a condom from behind the pillows.

  “Yeah,” she says. “But I’d rather you fucked me.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, reaching for it. “That’s even better.”

  IN MY SKIN

  Beth Wylde

  I saw the flashing neon sign of Melissa’s shop from over a mile away. The closer I got, the harder my foot pressed on the accelerator. Instead of slowing down, I flew past the exit, missing the turn while my heart hammered in fear. “Shit! I can do this. I can do this. I’m not a coward.”

  I repeated the phrase over and over again as I pulled an illegal U-turn at the next intersection and forced myself to go back. By the time I parked the car and stumbled to the sidewalk, my legs were shaking so badly I almost fell flat on my ass. My mantra wasn’t working. I was scared shitless. I stopped a block from my destination and leaned back against the nondescript wall of a tiny convenience store, one of the hundreds that filled the city. I had to calm down. “For Christ’s sake, Kendra. Get a grip on yourself. People do this every fucking day.”

  The laugh that escaped sounded slightly hysterical. Who was I trying to kid? Maybe some people visited tattoo parlors regularly, but I wasn’t one of them. In fact, I had a bit of a phobia where needles were concerned. I couldn’t even have blood drawn at my doctor’s office without passing out. “This is going to be a freaking disaster.”

  I’d just put my hand on the doorknob when the flashing INK BY M sign overhead went out, like an omen of something sinister coming my way. Considering what I was about to do, the warning seemed pretty appropriate. I did my best to shrug off the negativity, sucked in a deep breath, and forced myself to open the door. All I really wanted to do was turn around and run away. Fast. “I’m not a coward. I’m not a coward.”

  I kept repeating my mantra in an endless whispered loop while I glared at the empty waiting room that loomed before me. The left wall was covered in pictures of past clients showing off their tattoos, some done in places that defied both reason and sanity. The right wall held similar pictures, only these were of people and their piercings. One girl proudly showed off her double-D breasts and the huge rings she’d had attached to them. The thought of someone shoving a big-ass needle through my tits made me break out in a cold sweat.

  On the far side of the wall, where the receptionist normally sat, was a huge display of black photo albums. These were Melissa’s personal portfolios. There was also a poster advertising freehand drawings and specialized work for an extra fee. That was all it took. It wasn’t working. I couldn’t lie to myself. I was a chicken, and I was about to prove it. I spun around, ready to make my escape, when I came face-to-face with Melissa, my life partner and the owner of the establishment I was about to flee.

  I raised my right hand and gave a little finger wave, like a guilty child with one hand caught in the cookie jar. I wasn’t sure I could outrun Melissa. Did I even want to try? “Um, hi.”

  Melissa raised one pierced eyebrow suspiciously and stared me down. “Kendra, you weren’t about to leave were you? You just got here. I closed up early just for your appointment.”

  I shook my head; my heart hammered harder and harder in my chest until I feared it would burst through my ribs. “No, I, uh, I thought I left my headlights on. I was just going back to check.”

  She sighed and the blatant disbelief was audible in the weary sound. “You don’t have to do this, you know. Just say so and we’ll call the whole thing off. No need to lie to me.”

  I frowned as she saw right through my lame excuse. “Ugh. I know that, but I feel like such a disappointment. I want to show you how much I love you. You mean more to me than some silly childhood phobia.”

  She smiled and locked the door to the shop, flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED before stepping toward me. “I know you love me. You’ve proven it time and time again. This isn’t necessary.” She leaned down and placed a delicate kiss on my left cheek, a move completely at odds with her look. “And phobias are not silly. Some of the shit that happens to us while we’re young can scar us for life.”

  She held out her right arm and turned it over, the jagged six-inch welt from the shark bite still easily visible after over a decade. She was lucky that was all the damage she’d received. Because of the attack, Melissa still refused to get in the ocean. She wouldn’t even get her feet wet. What was a tiny needle prick compared to what she’d endured? How stupid was I being? She put her arm back by her side and the bottom of a heart peeked out from under her sleeve. I knew my name rested in the middle of the design.

  I let loose a bit of frustration with a strangled scream. “Yes, it is. You had my name put on your arm ages ago. Now it’s my turn to show you how I feel. I want the whole world to know who I belong to.” I was surprised to realize I meant every word of my impromptu speech. Maybe I wasn’t as big a coward as I thought I was.

  I shook with more than fear as she paused before me, less than an inch separating us. Because of her height, I had to tilt my head back slightly to meet her eyes. What I saw there both thrilled and intrigued me. Her face reflected the same desire I felt churning inside my own body. Even after ten years of total monogamy, I wanted her with a passion that defied reason. If her dilated pupils and rapid breathing were any indication, she felt the same way.

  Neither of us could be this close to the other and not touch. I wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly we were pressed against each other, her muscular physique dwarfing my smaller stature. Her lips crashed down on mine, and I groaned from the intensity.

  There was nothing subtle or gentle about the kiss. She took what she wanted, plundering my mouth with a fierceness that made me dizzy. My lungs cried out for air, and I ignored the call for something even more important. At the moment, kissing Melissa seemed as necessary to my survival as breathing. Her mouth and tongue dominated mine. I had no choice but to submit and I did so willingly. Hopefully, I’d be able to do the same later on in the back of the shop.

  While her lips continued their assault, her hands wandered down my back until she cupped my ass in her sizable palms. After what seemed like hours, we pulled apart, both of us gasping and grinning and turned on beyond belief. She squeezed my rear tight enough to leave fingerprints, and I threw my head back on a moan. If it hadn’t been for the glass front of the entryway, I would have gladly lain down on my back and done anything she asked me to.

  “Oh god. We have to stop.”

  In reply, she lifted me effortlessly into the air until we were eye to eye. Our lower bodies were pressed so tightly together, I felt like she was trying to crawl inside me. “Do you really want me to stop?”

  I leaned my forehead against hers. The last thing I wanted was for her to stop, but I knew if we didn’t quit now, we never would. One of us needed to maintain some semblance of self-control; I just wasn’t sure which one of us it was going to be.

  “No. What I really want you to do is fuck me until I can’t walk.” I glanced toward the glass front of the shop and the easily visible street. “Bu
t someone might see us.”

  “Let ’em look.” She lowered her hands to my upper thighs, forcing me to either wrap my legs tight around her waist or risk falling. She nipped my lower lip with her teeth, her lip ring accentuating the bite even as the cool metal soothed it. When she flicked her tongue stud out and ran the pointed tip back and forth between the seam of her lips, my resolve to remain sensible vanished completely. I knew intimately how that barb felt against my clit and the thought of her face mashed between my thighs while she licked me with her stud had my panties drenched in seconds.

  “Oh Jesus.” I squeezed my thighs tight around Melissa’s hips in a wasted effort to halt the flood between my legs. “Please. Please, let’s go home. I’m so wet. I need to feel you inside me. Skin to skin. Hurry.”

  She shook her head and started carrying me toward the back of the shop. “I can’t wait that long. You know what that kind of talk does to me. My clit’s so swollen it almost hurts.” She took three steps and then had to stop and squeeze her eyes shut as a full body shiver took over. Apparently her hood piercing had just done part of my job for me. When she finally opened those baby blues and hit me head-on with their glare I almost came myself.

  Earlier, I’d been terrified about ending up on Melissa’s workbench, but now the actuality couldn’t come fast enough. I was so eager I almost asked her to run. The fact that I was about to get fucked senseless probably had a lot to do with my lack of fear.

  Melissa pulled the dividing curtain shut behind us and all but tossed me down on the table. She was on me instantly, ripping off my clothes in a fight to get me naked as fast as possible. My flimsy shirt and skirt were no match for her strength or eagerness. In seconds, I was left in only my bra and thong panties, and even those didn’t remain on for long. I sat up in an effort to reciprocate, but Melissa wasn’t having it. She was in full control and all I could do was lie back and enjoy the ride.

  The minute my panties hit the floor, she grabbed hold of my ankles and forced my legs apart, diving between my thighs like a shark caught in a feeding frenzy. The first touch of her tongue stabbing deep inside my pussy had me creaming all over her face.

  I wound my fingers through her spiky purple locks and guided her hardware right where I wanted it. “Oh fuck! Oh shit. More, more. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

  Melissa took the hint and moved up to my clit, starting off with a few slow licks and sucks until I was begging and writhing on the leather padding like a woman possessed. “Do it. Goddamn it. Just do it. Please. Stop fucking teasing me.”

  She smiled up at me from her position between my thighs. “I’m not teasing you, baby. I’m just trying to make sure you’re completely prepped and ready. I take my job very seriously.”

  I had no clue what she was talking about, and I really didn’t care. As long as she put her mouth back to work on my needy cunt, she could prep me all she wanted to. It was amazing how clueless I could be when I let my pussy do all the thinking. “Okay.”

  “God, you taste good. I could eat you all night long.” She licked my glistening juices off her lips and patted my leg. “Now turn over, hot stuff, and show me that ass.”

  My eyes widened in surprise and I flipped over so fast I almost slipped completely off the table. I’m a huge slut for anal play, but Melissa isn’t a big fan of it, so it’s a rare treat to get those needs met. Melissa caught me easily, before I even came close to hitting the floor, and boosted me back up. The fact that she seemed suddenly eager to play with my rear had me panting.

  She gave my right cheek a playful swat. “Up on your knees.” The command had barely left her lips by the time I assumed the position. “Keep your head down and your ass up.”

  I folded my arms and rested my cheek in the crook of my elbow, running through a vast range of possible scenarios in my head. None of them even came close to what Melissa really had in mind. If I hadn’t been so blind with lust, I might have figured that out for myself.

  She rubbed something cold on my left cheek, followed by a slow swirling movement that felt like a feather dipped in paint. Once that stopped, her hand trailed lower, one finger rubbing along the tight ring of muscle that surrounded my anus before dipping lower in exploration. It wasn’t until I heard the buzz of the gun, and smelled the faint remnants of alcohol and marker, that I comprehended my predicament. By then, it was too late.

  Before I could utter a protest, Melissa did two things at once. She thrust a well-lubed finger deep inside my ass and lowered the tattoo gun against my skin. As she traced the first line, I hollered out loud and long, caught in a vortex of sensation that rapidly alternated between pleasure and pain. The feelings collided until I couldn’t distinguish one from the other. Every time the needle became almost too much to bear, she’d do something wickedly tricky with her finger to distract me. As I verbally praised her manual dexterity, she wiggled in a second digit and continued to work me over.

  The slow glide of her fingers in and out of my ass, combined with the burn of the needle and ink, coalesced into a thrumming, piercing, all-encompassing torture designed to push my senses to the brink and beyond.

  “Faster, faster. Oh god. Harder, fuck me harder. Oh shit. Yes!”

  I was quickly reduced to a pleading, pulsing, quivering mass of need. My orgasm was rushing toward me with astonishing speed, and there was nothing I could do to push it back. Melissa must have realized how close I was to coming. Her needle sped up in time with her thrusts, her ring finger stretching downward until it slid inside my other entrance like a warm knife through butter. She dug down hard one final time with the tattoo gun as she extended her pinky and gave my clitoris a firm tap. It was a move only Melissa could perform and we’d dubbed the maneuver the showstopper. True to its name, I let loose a scream of completion that nearly stripped my throat raw. I’d never come so hard or so long in my life. The spasms just kept coming until I finally collapsed against the table in a boneless heap of sexual satisfaction.

  “Oh my god.” It wasn’t until I started breathing somewhat normally again that I realized Melissa’s fingers and needles were gone. I looked over my shoulder and found her at the small sink nearby, washing up her hands and her equipment. She turned and graced me with one of her cocky boi-ish smiles.

  “I told you getting inked was a rush.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh and once I got started, I couldn’t seem to stop. I finally managed to calm long enough to ask the burning question on my mind. “Do all your customers get such amazing treatment?”

  She shook her head and grinned along with me. “Nope. Just one.”

  The fit of giggles came back, stronger this time, until I was wheezing with each breath. It was like the giddy high of alcohol, only I hadn’t had a drink all day. “What the…?”

  Melissa rushed to my side, stroking her hand over my back in a soothing motion. “Everything’s okay. It’s just the endorphin rush. Every person reacts differently. Just try to relax and go with it. Ride the feeling.”

  “Does this happen often?”

  She nodded. “Every time I get a new tattoo or piercing.”

  I stared at her body and all the tattoos and shiny silver studs that were visible, plus the ones I knew were under her clothes. “Wow.”

  She nodded. “Though I don’t laugh.” The look she gave me scorched me to my toes and halted my merriment. “I just get horny.” She ran her hand lower, stopping where my back ended and curvier areas began. “Very, very horny.”

  I followed her gaze to my reflection in a mirror behind me and got the first glimpse at my tattoo. It was a simple design and, under the circumstances, it kind of had to be.

  The largest part depicted an ink bottle tipped sideways with Melissa’s name flowing out of it in a flowery script. To some, it might have seemed odd, but to me, it made perfect sense. It symbolized our love and commitment as well as Melissa’s job and my newest fetish. Now, she was officially in my skin. Where she belonged. Maybe next time I’d let Melissa pierce s
omething. The thought of her prepping my hood made me hot all over. I wondered if I could go ahead and schedule an appointment. I decided to talk it over with her after I showed her my sincere appreciation, one ink lover to another.

  STILL FLYING

  Andrea Dale

  Moments before I got on the plane, Mindy texted me: I have a present for you.

  I assumed she meant something when I got home, and was only telling me now to distract me from the fact that I had to fly to Dallas and then back again before I could receive the gift.

  You know what they say about assume, right? When will I ever learn not to underestimate Mindy? She’s the love of my life, my domme, and my wife in everything but a government certificate, and when she tells me the trip will be fine, I’d better damn well believe her.

  But the fact is, flying scares the shit out of me. I’ve even talked to a therapist about this, and the best we came up with is that I hate giving up control. I’m a terrible passenger in any kind of vehicle, but one hurtling through the sky is particularly bad.

  Which is a joke, right? Because as a sub, I’m all about giving up control. In fact, I’m all about sub-space and flying.

  Just not this kind of flying, apparently.

  * * *

  My seatmate reminds me a little of Mindy: blonde hair in loose waves past her shoulders, blue eyes. She’s a little more solid than Mindy, more farm girl to Mindy’s waifishness. Her smile distracts me, and after I fumble my carry-on into the overhead bin, I pull out my sweat-crinkled boarding pass and frown.

  Before I can say anything, though, she says, “I’m actually in your seat. But I’m a bit claustrophobic—you don’t mind sitting by the window, do you?”

  There’s a tone in her voice that makes me straighten. She sounds perfectly friendly, making a perfectly logical and polite request, and yet…and yet I can’t say no. I’m not allowed to.

  “That’s fine,” I say, even though it isn’t, because I don’t want to be by the window where I can see the world getting smaller and smaller. At least we’re in first class, though, and the seats are bigger, the legroom ample, so I won’t feel quite as pinned in.