Anne's Collection #1: Five Stories

by Anne Eton

“So you need me to stay here a bit longer?” Laurence asked, poker-faced.

  “Yes,” Peggy deadpanned. “Unless you need to leave?”

  “No, it is fine.”

  “When do you return to France?”

  “The twenty-second.”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m sure we can get everything squared away by then,” Peggy said.

  “Very good.”

  “So I’ll meet you in the office.”

  “Okay.”

  After a work day of sorting papers and inputting numbers, an afternoon of drinks by the pool and (for Laurence) a swim in the ocean, and YuLing’s dinner of pork chops (which she left in a warm oven since she went home every day at six)… Peggy and Laurence undressed in Peggy’s bedroom, making small talk once again.

  “Okay,” Peggy said suddenly. “We have to not touch each other tonight. For real.” She paused as she was about to unclip her bra. “Stop staring!”

  Laurence turned away quickly.

  Peggy slid the bra off her shoulders and arms, and donned her PJs. “Like I was saying,” she said. “I feel really bad about last night.”

  “Me too,” the blonde said.

  “So this time, we sleep on opposite sides of the bed.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s a big bed. We’ll have plenty of room.”

  “Yes. I agree. I just agreed, before,” Laurence muttered. She slid her jeans off, turning away from Peggy and bending over.

  Peggy stared at Laurence’s panties pulled tight over her cute heart-shaped rump. The panty lines did not line up with her bikini bottom’s tan lines. Two clear strips of demarcation between white and nut-brown skin ran diagonally up the girl’s cheeks like a V.

  Peggy’s mind wandered. “So…”

  Laurence looked over her shoulder, puzzled. “So, what?”

  “Um. So! We have to leave each other alone.”

  The girl shrugged. “I am tired, anyway. Last night… no rest. I will be asleep before you turn the light out I think.”

  * * *

  Peggy turned Laurence’s naked body over, face-up. Even in the darkened room, a light sheen of perspiration could be seen on the girl’s tanned skin.

  “Oh my,” Peggy whispered. “Whatever has happened to you?”

  Laurence would not, or could not, reply. As Peggy adjusted her guest’s limbs, the girl offered no resistance. She lay like a rag doll.

  After lights-out, Laurence had kept tossing and turning. Peggy had asked what was wrong. The French girl had complained that Peggy had offered her no massage that day, and that as a result her muscles could not relax. After a short argument over whether Peggy had been right not to offer, the older woman had agreed to give the girl a quick back rub.

  The massage had begun with Laurence’s clothes on. And one by one, the articles had been removed, each time with a comment by one of the women about how the massage would be better as a result. Peggy had luxuriated in touching the girl’s naked body, sliding her hands up and down her, until Laurence had become as limp as a noodle. Finally, Peggy had slid her hand down between the girl’s parted legs and gently massaged her vagina, just like on the day by the pool. Laurence had sighed, over and over. While rubbing, Peggy had kissed and licked the skin of the girl’s shoulders and neck. That was when sweat broke out over Laurence’s body.

  And now she lay face-up, unresisting, almost unconscious, as Peggy settled between the girl’s tanned thighs. The older woman smiled. “I see now what you meant,” she said softly. “This is fun.” Laurence made no reply.

  Lying on her stomach, Peggy shifted her own body slightly forward. The golden fur between Laurence’s legs seemed to glitter in the dark. Peggy opened her mouth and slid a finger over her tongue, her eyes never leaving the blonde triangle. Then, with infinite slowness, she traced the finger through the hair, allowing the curls to wrap around and tug at her fingertip. Still Laurence lay as if dead. The girl was completely relaxed.

  Peggy rested her cheek against a tanned thigh, allowing her nose and mouth to press into the blonde pubic hair. She inhaled deeply, and smiled. After a moment, she kissed.

  Minutes passed, the women lying motionless in the dark. Peggy stirred, and kissed again. And again. Shifting her body, she ran her lips tenderly over Laurence’s labia. The girl moved so slightly she almost did not move at all.

  Tenderly, Peggy began to kiss and lick, moving her entire head in slow up-and-down bobs. Eventually she whispered: “Who knew you tasted so good?”

  Laurence groaned. She spread her legs wider.

  Peggy licked the girl deeper and deeper, taking her time, sliding her hands over Laurence’s body, massaging, teasing her nipples into hardness. Peggy was completely in the moment, experiencing Laurence. She did not hurry. It was a beautiful, tender thing they were sharing; Peggy felt aware of being in a precious moment, a moment that would mean something to both of them.

  After what might have been hours, or only minutes, Laurence moaned a deeper timbre than before. Her hand snaked over her body to interlock fingers with her lover. “Peggy,” she whispered.

  Peggy opened her mouth wider, covering the precious area between Laurence’s thighs. Eyes closed, she slid her tongue inside and found the girl’s clitoris, hard and angry. Peggy sucked the tiny organ, moving her mouth, luxuriating in the feel of her lips sliding over Laurence’s wet pubic hair. Peggy moaned. The vibration in her throat carried up her mouth and into Laurence; the girl touched Peggy’s head with her free hand.

  Laurence’s breathing grew faster and deeper. ”Je t’aime,” she whispered so softly Peggy could not hear. ”Je t’aime.”

  Peggy’s hand slid up and down the girl’s tanned body, unconsciously massaging, touching, guiding Laurence ever-closer to orgasm. Peggy was a conductor, playing the girl’s body like an instrument.

  Laurence began to tremble; Peggy ate her harder, with mounting excitement. After a beat, Laurence’s back arched; she screamed a low loud long sound.

  When her tremors had subsided, Laurence looked down: Peggy’s face was still between her legs, licking her insatiably.

  “Peggy,” Laurence gasped. “Please. Hey!” She pulled at Peggy’s with a frantic movement.

  As if waking from a dream, the older woman looked up.

  “Come to me,” the girl breathed.

  Peggy crawled on her hands and knees to lie next to Laurence. The blonde held her tightly.

  “You’re shivering,” Peggy said. She kissed her forehead.

  For many minutes, Laurence did not reply. Then: “Thank you.”

  Peggy giggled. “You’re welcome.” She kissed the girl’s sweaty face.

  “Do not laugh.” Laurence opened her eyes; they looked bluer than ever before. “I have never felt that. Never like that.” She snuggled her head into Peggy’s arms. “Never like that,” she whispered again.

  Peggy held her. They closed their eyes. In moments, they were asleep.

  * * *

  The following evening, at bedtime, the women stood looking at each other from opposite sides of the bed.

  “It is too strong,” Laurence finally said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Perhaps I should sleep in the guest room.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I am serious. What can we do?”

  “Come here,” Peggy said.

  The girl approached. Peggy placed Laurence’s arms around her neck. “You have four days left. Right?”

  The blonde looked down and nodded.

  “Why don’t we just make the most of them.”

  Laurence looked up again. “We let go?”

  “Yeah.”

  The girl’s smile lit up the room. “Yes, then. If you are happy.”

  “I am.”

  They began to kiss.

  * * *

  Peggy woke up in the dark. Feeling around, she let her eyes adjust to the gloom. She was alone in the bed.

  Sitting up,
she scanned. Laurence was nowhere to be seen.

  With a short hop she bounced to the bed’s side, then off onto her feet. She pulled on a robe. “Laurence?” she called. Her eyebrows knitted. She called again, anxious.

  After exploring the upper floor, she descended the stairs before stopping short.

  Laurence was weeping softly on the sofa, naked. A letter lay on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Hey,” Peggy said.

  The girl jumped. She looked up, wiping tears. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “No!” The older woman hurried down and embraced her, sitting by her side. Glancing at the coffee table, Peggy said: “That’s my letter. The one I left for you at the hostel.”

  “Yes.” Laurence sniffed and wiped her face again.

  “What…”

  “I read it every night.” The girl exhaled. “I leave the bed while you are sleeping and I come down and I read it. I leave it in the cushions, here”—she indicated where they sat—”and put it back when I am done. Then I come up again and go back to sleep with you.”

  Peggy placed a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder, rubbing. “I didn’t think you received it.”

  “After I spoke to you on the phone that day, I asked the desk if they had a letter for me. First they said no. I made them check everywhere. I was crazy in a hurry, but I wanted to see. Finally they found it. I took it and ran out with my suitcase… to here.”

  “The day I went to Canada.”

  “Yes.” Laurence plucked a tissue from a box on the table and blew her nose.

  “Well, my next question is… why are you reading it every night?”

  “Because it is so beautiful. Peggy!” Laurence held her, sobbing.

  “You’re gonna make me cry, too,” Peggy gasped.

  “Do you remember the night I first swam to the raft?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Did you wonder why I was so long?”

  “I thought you got lost, or…”

  “No. I swam past the raft, Peggy. Far, far out. Into the darkness. I kept swimming. Philippe, my father’s funeral, my family, everything… so terrible. I could not bear it any more. I wanted it to end. I wanted everything over.”

  “God, honey,” Peggy said in a shaky voice.

  “But then when I was almost too far to come back, I thought of you. How if I died it would upset you—”

  “Upset me? Try, kill me!”

  “I know.” Laurence touched Peggy’s hair, passing her fingers through it. “And I knew I could not do that to you.”

  Peggy said nothing.

  “I came back for you, Peggy.”

  The held each other a long time.

  Finally, Laurence turned her face on Peggy’s shoulder to look at the letter. “The things you wrote—about you, about us. I feel the same way. I want to stay,” she said in a rush, gripping tighter. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t know what will happen, how it can happen, I don’t care. I want to stay with you. I love you.”

  Peggy’s lungs suddenly expanded to the bursting point. Seizing Laurence by the shoulders, she looked into her wet eyes. “You do?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “I love you too.”

  They embraced again; the French girl cried, and Peggy simply looked stunned.

  * * *

  Peggy adjusted her bikini and shifted slightly on her chaise lounge. She looked up. No clouds marred the blue afternoon sky.

  Laurence exited the house, approaching. As she walked she pulled off her shirt.

  Peggy sat up with an abrupt movement. “Well?”

  Laurence ignored her. The girl unclipped her bra and yanked off her jeans to expose a bikini bottom. She would sunbathe topless, as usual.

  Peggy banged on her chair, getting the girl’s attention. “WELL?”

  Laurence made a sour face. “He said nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “I explained it—how we met, everything. I was careful to include it all. I thought, Philippe deserves a good explanation. Right?”

  “Right.” Peggy nodded a little too vigorously.

  “But he did not say a word.” Laurence sighed.

  “Wow.”

  “Except at the end.”

  “Oh?”

  ”Bonne chance.” The girl regarded her. “That means…”

  “Good luck. Yeah, I know that much.”

  Laurence seemed sad.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It was… no emotion. The coldness. Awful.” She sighed again.

  “But… aren’t you happy you’re not marrying him?”

  “I wish I never had—”

  Peggy waited.

  “I feel stupid, only,” Laurence said finally. “That’s all.”

  Peggy smiled. “Hey. I know what’ll cheer you up.”

  The girl gave her a sidelong look.

  The older woman rolled her eyes. “Not THAT. A swim.”

  Laurence grinned. “But it is not evening, yet.”

  “Sometimes it’s better to swim in the light.”

  The girl thought about it. After a long pause, she nodded.

  Peggy rose. Laurence followed. They smiled at each other. Clasping hands, they walked down the patio stairs and over the beach, toward the ocean, together.

  The End

  Thanks for reading! If you have time, please leave a review for Anne's Collection #1: Five Stories. I read every review, and I appreciate honest feedback!

  If you enjoyed this book, you may also enjoy another F/F erotic romance:

  The Beard

  By Anne Eton

  Description:

  When tall, pretty Kelly interviews at Washington D.C.’s premier LGBT-centric lobbying firm, she claims she has a girlfriend. Nothing could be further from the truth; she’s never even kissed a girl. Kelly’s hired. However, a suspicious co-worker keeps inquiring about her girlfriend. To keep her lies straight, Kelly bases her fictional partner on Anna, an aggressive, gorgeous lesbian friend of a friend. But when the firm’s annual Christmas party looms, Kelly’s forced to produce her mysterious girlfriend. The real Anna agrees to be Kelly’s “beard”—her fake date. But at the party, alcohol flows... and Anna’s all over Kelly. Kelly pretends to her office mates that her “girlfriend’s” advances are perfectly normal—even as she feels her resistance to the beautiful woman melting away.

  The Beard is a comedy with sexy scenes and some explicit passages.

  Excerpt follows!

  The Beard

  Excerpt:

  Kelly stumbled, tipsy. Anna guided her with a sure hand to the office supply room, opening the door and escorting her inside.

  “Hey! Office supplies,” Kelly said with false cheer. She looked around nervously. “You need some gel pens? Ha, ha!”

  Anna smirked. She shut the door behind them and pressed the doorknob’s button, locking it.

  “Or paper clips, or toner,” Kelly babbled, casually backing away. “It’s a regular Staples in here!”

  “Yes,” Anna replied. The blonde gave Anna a sexy look and flipped a wall switch. The room went dark.

  “I think we should talk about expectations,” Kelly said in the pitch black, as if discussing the price of a car. “I admit, I did sort of use you for my own ends…”

  “Yes.”

  Kelly felt Anna’s hands. The tall girl backed away; she came up against waist-high pallets of paper boxes.

  “You see,” Kelly gasped, “I know we’re supposed to be pretending that you’re my girlfriend—”

  “Yes… yes…” Anna murmured. She began slipping Kelly’s dress up as the taller girl moved awkwardly against the immovable cartons.

  Also by Anne Eton:

  Anne’s Collection #1: Five Stories

  The Beard

  Chilled

  Night Swimming

  Big-Boobed Beth

  Flight

  Happy Hour

  Seducing the Cheerleader Captain

  Connect with
me online:

  My site

  anneeton.com

  Facebook

  facebook.com/pages/Anne-Eton/380926901997182

  Want more stories? Be the first to know when I publish the next one! Sign up for my mailing list at

  www.anneeton.com

  Thanks for reading!