The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica

by Barbara Cardy

  “Let’s go.” Nicki had washed up, done something with her hair, and changed into different clothes. She looked good. Relaxed, needless to say, and happy. They rode out to the beach and talked all the way, discussing the latest gossip about mutual friends. Nicki knew a stretch of beach that was usually deserted – or close to deserted. They pulled up to find a couple of cars there, but nobody visible on the shoreline. The dog bolted from the back seat and twirled around expectantly.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Nicki motioned her hand toward the water and Sadie took off down the beach, sand flying up behind her. The two women followed, slowly strolling and talking as Nicki tossed a stick to the dog.

  There was an ease, a comfort that came from at least knowing about each other, even though they weren’t close friends. There would be no surprises, like finding out your new lover had spent some time in jail, or was still married to a man, or had a reputation for affairs. They each had recently ended long-term relationships, and they had met years before that. At the same time, it was exciting to take it a bit further, really talk, find out more about what made the other tick. Before they knew it, Nicki looked down the beach to check on Sadie and could barely make her out in the distance – it was dusk.

  “It’s getting dark. Wow, that’s hard to believe. Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “There’s a little bar just beyond the park. Great burgers and fresh fish.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  They sat in a booth and talked and laughed, sometimes to the point of tears. Nicki felt like the weight of the world was lifting, sitting here with an old friend cracking up over shared stories. The waitress brought the check and they each paid for their meal. Sadie was sound asleep in the back of the SUV when they came out.

  The night was cool but clear, the stars thrown against the night sky like confetti. Nicki had a glass of local Pinot over dinner, but was more than capable of driving safely. Corrine had a Coors Light. They pulled in to the driveway and found the house pitch black. When they had left for the beach, it was daytime, and Nicki hadn’t thought of turning on the lights. The small house was at the edge of the woods and, without lights, it was hard to see your hand in front of your face.

  “I’ll come around and get you.” Nicki walked around to the passenger’s side, opened the door, and reached for Corrine’s hand.

  “Here, give me your hand and I’ll lead you in. I’m pretty good in the dark.”

  “I bet you are,” Corrine said.

  Did Nicki hear that right? Was that a flirt?

  Corrine’s hand was soft and warm. As she stood up outside the car, she pressed her shoulder into Nicki’s to steady herself in the dark. They moved toward the doorway, and then squeezed together to make it through the entrance. Nicki put her arm around Corrine’s back and guided her through. She could smell her perfume as she passed. She smoothed her hand over the wall until she bumped into the light switch. She snapped it on and got the dog settled while Corrine sat down on the couch.

  “I don’t have any beer, but would you like a glass of wine?”

  “Yes. That sounds great.” Corrine wondered what they would do with the rest of the evening. But that fear quickly passed as Nicki showed up with the wine and two glasses. She sat down on the other end of the sofa, turned sideways, and stretched her legs toward Corrine. They sat there talking and sipping wine until well past midnight.

  “I hate to be the party-pooper, but I’m getting tired,” Corrine said. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Me too. And I didn’t have to drive three hours to get here. There’s a bathroom just outside your room. I have my own, so you have privacy.”

  “Thanks.” Corrine moved closer for a hug, letting her cheek brush Nicki’s. She could feel her soft breasts against hers. She pulled away slowly, hesitating slightly as she held on to Nicki’s shoulders. She glanced up into her eyes.

  “Well, good night,” Nicki said, turning away.

  “Night,” Corrine said softly. She had started to feel a stirring earlier as she watched Nicki’s mouth over dinner – had wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Walking into the house in the dark, with Nicki so close gave her a twinge – a sexual twinge. The feeling hadn’t really left her. The wine and the laughter, both were aphrodisiacs. Her heart sunk as Nicki said goodnight. Maybe it was for the best.

  Pretty soon she was scolding herself. For God sakes, were you driving up here for some kind of tryst? That wasn’t her style, not what she was looking for. She had never done that in her life, always so practical, so sensible. She pulled down the quilt on the bed and arranged the pillows. She could hear the pipes bang in Nicki’s bathroom. She closed her eyes and reviewed the night, thinking about Nicki’s mouth, and then her body – what she might look like naked.

  Nicki’s muscles relaxed in the hot spray. Finally she could really take her time and get in all the nooks and crannies of her body, scrubbing away the afternoon indiscretion with BJ. Now all she felt was regret. She had invited Corrine up for the weekend and then, just as she was about to arrive, she had fucked BJ. What was she thinking? Her attraction for Corrine had been overwhelming, but she couldn’t get past the guilt. How dare she think about Corrine in that way when just a few hours ago she was slipping all over BJ? She soaped up again at the thought of it and decided to wash her hair. The water was almost too hot, a kind of punishment. Nicki’s skin was a mix of pink over her tan when she stepped out and reached for the towel. She pulled down the spread on her bed. It was too hot for clothes. She slipped under the cool sheets, hugged her pillow between her legs and thought of Corrine’s sweet smell.

  Corrine stopped in the doorway. Early dawn washed Nicki’s bedroom in a soft yellow glow. Corrine’s breath caught in her throat. Nicki was lying naked, her leg wrapped around her pillow, her hair wild with sleep. She breathed softly, rhythmically, her hands twitching from a dream. Corrine pulled the throw around her and moved silently through the door and around the bed, behind the sleeping beauty. She couldn’t take her eyes off the pink between her legs, where her thigh lifted to clear the pillow. The arch of her tanned back curved down into an exquisite pale ass accentuated by a bikini bottom outline on her skin. Her legs were muscular, and her arms were svelte, like a ballerina’s. Her lips were slightly parted, her face flushed in sleep.

  Corrine sat on the edge of the bed, just below and behind Nicki’s knees. She brought her face closer to that vee snuggled against the pillow, the smooth pink of Nicki’s pussy. She couldn’t take her eyes away as she brought her hand under the throw and down to her own lips. She knew she would be wet and slippery with longing. Her finger circled her clit, and moved down one side and back up the other, round and round. She had to be quiet. She didn’t want to wake her – yet. She reached out for Nicki’s calf and gently rested her hand on it. She pushed it forward and up, ever so carefully. As her leg slid higher on the pillow, her pussy spread, opening like a flower. Round and round Corrine’s finger slipped, past her clitoris and down to her cave. She dipped into the river, and tried not to moan. She touched Nicki’s ass ever so lightly. She moved in her sleep, bringing the leg closer to her elbow. Now Corrine could see everything, every part of her flower, the soft covering and the inner lips, the glistening opening. She had to stop the circles, keep herself at bay. She held her palm against her pubic hair and pressed lightly.

  She stood up and took a few steps and then settled back down next to Nicki’s back. She leaned forward and kissed her neck. Nicki sighed, but didn’t wake. She kissed her hair and put her hand on her arm and caressed it gently. She whispered in her ear.

  “Don’t be afraid. It’s just me.”

  Nicki moaned, but did not open her eyes. Corrine knew by her breathing that she was awake, and she also knew by her closed eyes that she didn’t want her to stop. She dropped her throw and laid behind her, pressing her breasts into her back. She moved her hand everywhere, down her back to her ass, along her arms, up to her neck and through her hair. She reac
hed down and took hold of the thigh that rested on the pillow. She pulled it up as far as it would stretch and laid it there. Nicki did not move it. She ran her hand down it and played outside Nicki’s pussy for a long time, circling it and gently pulling on her lips, until she opened fully, and ran with glistening glide. She dipped her fingers and slid them in and out as Nicki worked her hips and moaned.

  “Fuck me, baby, fuck me.” Nicki’s husky voice broke the silence.

  Corrine stopped her hand and let her fingers rest just inside Nicki’s pussy.

  “Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t,” Corrine said teasingly.

  “Please, baby, please . . . make me come,” she pleaded.

  “Turn over,” Corrine said, her voice thick with lust. Nicki turned over and looked into Corrine’s face. Her eyes were wild with desire and her lips swollen when they kissed. They pressed their bodies close and Corrine lowered herself on to Nicki and wrapped her in her arms. She moved down her body and laid against her pubic hair and reached down for her calves, she pulled them up and pushed them against the back of Nicki’s thighs, her ruby lips spreading to expose her cave. Corrine slid down and put her mouth against her pussy. She licked her – hard – up and down the sides of her pussy and lightly around the top by her clit. She fucked her with her tongue.

  “God, oh Jesus,” Nicki screamed as her legs tensed and her body jerked.

  Corrine lay on her pelvis kissing her stomach, until she relaxed. Then she lifted up on her knees and put one on each side of Nicki’s body. She inched up, stopping to kiss Nicki’s breasts and mouth on the way. When her thighs were on the sides of Nicki’s head, she stopped and put her hands on the headboard. She lowered her pussy over Nicki’s face and held it there, open and throbbing, inviting Nicki’s tongue. Nicki grabbed her thighs and licked her from front to back, over and over, until she came.

  When it was over, Corrine laid down next to Nicki and they kissed and touched for the longest time.

  “I’ve never done that before,” said Corrine

  “Done what?”

  “Took a risk like that and prayed you wanted me as much as I wanted you.”

  “I’m so glad you did.”

  They spent the rest of the weekend in bed, getting out occasionally to scrounge around the kitchen for food. They did drive to the beach once more before Corrine headed back down state. That weekend started a weekly pilgrimage for Corrine, leaving work early on Fridays, driving the interstate, and singing along with Anita Baker as her heart soared and her body ached. Almost always, Nicki would be out in front of the house, staring down the road for Corrine’s car, except when she surprised her by not greeting her. Then she would be in the bedroom, either naked or whored up in a black garter belt and hose, smiling to herself with anticipation as she heard Corrine slam in the screen door. That September, on Corrine’s fiftieth birthday, she packed up her belongings and moved north, settling in with Nicki in a house near the beach.

  Even now, they delight in laughing about the courtship that lasted all of one day. When their friends preach about another couple bringing a moving van to their second date, they glance at each other and smile. It’s their naughty little secret – that morning one June when they pulled out all the stops. Now they’re an old married couple, but the passion still smolders under the surface of their comfortable life. They go to sleep every night in each other’s arms – and wake up each morning, still together.

  A to Z

  Kristina Wright

  I met Zoe in the library near the biography section. I was sitting in one of the big, overstuffed chairs by the window reading People when I looked up and saw her staring at me. She sat in the chair opposite me. She wore a long flowing dress the colour of a summer sky, her legs tucked under her, her brown leather sandals lined up neatly on the floor. Her eyes were the same colour as her dress and they watched me, unblinking. She held a book but I couldn’t make out the title because she had it turned face down in her lap, as if watching me were infinitely more interesting than reading a book. I was flattered and annoyed. The library is my sanctuary. I don’t go there to get cruised.

  Funny thing is, I was never much of a reader before her. In fact, I’d only been going to the library for two or three months when I met her. I’d never been to the big Ft Lauderdale branch library, even though I grew up three miles away. One day I was paying a ticket at the courthouse down the street, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and pick up some tax forms at the library. By then, it was already the middle of March. I’m a bit of a procrastinator.

  I had no idea how wonderful the library was. Once I got out of high school, I made it a point to avoid all things academic. But that first visit made me a believer. I’d make a trip to the library once a week, maybe two, not for the books but for the silence, the utter sense of solitude. Everyone whispers in the library, everyone is deferential to your need for peace and quiet. It was so unlike my job as a waitress at one of the clubs on the strip , I couldn’t help but return again and again. I’d have been happy to sit by the window on the second floor and watch the traffic go by, but the librarians gave me funny looks. Sometimes homeless people go to the library to cool off in the summer. I didn’t think I looked like a homeless person, but I figured if I had my nose stuck in a magazine, they’d leave me alone.

  I looked up from an article about the summer blockbusters to see her still watching me, her finger stuck between the pages of the book, marking her place. Her hair was long and loose around her face, a halo of dark, wavy ringlets shot through with strands of silver. She was a few years older than me, I thought. It was hard to tell. She had an exotic look, maybe Indian or Saudi, all sharp angles and good bone structure. Her eyes threw me, though. They were blue as blue can be. I wondered how that recessive trait had popped out.

  I realized I’d been staring at her and felt myself blush. I’m as fair as they come, pale skin, short spiky red hair, light green eyes the colour of sea glass. It was a funny joke God played on me, making me be born in a state that has sunshine three hundred and twenty days a year. I skulked about in long sleeve blouses, long pants, sun screen and sunglasses, protecting my pale flesh from the harsh rays that would turn my creamy skin into a mottled canvas of freckles. My last girlfriend, Maggie, used to bitch because I never wanted to go to the beach. But I never heard her complain when she explored every inch of my sun-free skin.

  “Aren’t you hot?” the woman across from me said finally.

  I flinched. Her voice seemed to echo throughout the wing. No one else seemed to notice. I shrugged. “Not really.”

  “I’m hot.” She hiked her dress up to mid-thigh and fanned her face with the hem. “It’s usually forty degrees in here, but today if feels like they’ve got the heat on.”

  She was appealing, but I didn’t want to talk about the heat. I wanted to read about the summer movies. I wanted to be left alone. I raised the magazine up and covered my face, hoping to discourage any further conversation. I didn’t give in to the temptation to peek around the glossy page and see if she was still watching me. I finished reading about Jude Law’s newest flick and moved on to a fascinating tale about liposuction in Hollywood.

  I heard the swish of fabric and was almost disappointed that I’d run her off. I jumped when she pulled the magazine away from my face. “That shit will rot your brain,” she said.

  She dumped the book she’d been reading in my lap and then crouched by my chair. “A is for Austen,” she whispered close to my ear.

  I flipped it over. Sense and Sensibility. I shook my head and tried to hand it back to her. “It’s not my style.”

  She pushed it back at me. “Try it, you’ll like it.”

  “I don’t have a library card,” I blurted.

  When she laughed, I shivered. “It’s okay, I already checked it out. Just have it back in two weeks.”

  Then she was gone, her dress billowing out behind her like a blue cloud, her sandals slap-slapping across the floor. I watched her until she
walked through the door. Then I remembered to close my mouth.

  By the time two weeks had rolled around, I’d gotten through Sense and Sensibility. I still wasn’t convinced I was cut out for that literary crap, but I was kind of surprised it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected it to be. I dropped the book in the slot in the lobby of the library and headed for my favourite chair.

  She was already there, looking resplendent in a sleeveless red sun dress with a gold Batik design scattered across it. She looked up at me from the book she was reading. Another book lay in her lap. “Did you like it?”

  I shrugged. “It was all right. I’m not really into that highbrow English stuff.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You’re going to be a tough nut to crack, I can tell.”

  I played it cool. I sat down across from her and thumbed through the magazines on the table by my chair. I picked up Cosmo. She looked as if she was going to blow a gasket. I smirked over the top of the magazine. “I’m tougher than you might think.”

  It was part challenge, part bravado. I was intimidated by her exotic beauty and her obvious intellect.

  She didn’t disappoint. She glided from her chair and put both books on the arm of my chair. “B is for Bronte. Two books, two weeks.”

  There was no way I was going to read two books in two weeks. Before I could tell her that, she was gone. I looked at the books. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. I vaguely remembered Wuthering Heights from high school. Actually, I remembered reading the Cliff’s Notes.

  Somehow, I got the books done in two weeks. More amazing, I really liked Jane Eyre. I showed up at the library, puffed up like a peacock, and returned the books. I grinned when I saw her sitting in her usual chair, dressed all in white. White shimmery blouse, white skirt with silver buttons up the front, white sandals showing off white toenails.