The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Stories

by Barbara Cardy

  Four days later the leg warmers and I were out of the house to meet Jackie. Fate had dropped my first-ever girlfriend and I at exactly the same place . . . albeit twenty-five years later; both single (Jackie had actually done the hetero marriage bit, keeping her secret and her real need submerged a good ten years until her ex Joe couldn’t stand her silences anymore) still attractive and attracted to one another and living close enough we could manage these rendezvous, as we had now done three times. The pretty redhead with the Bonnie Raitt gray slice answered her condo door – pretty as ever in loose sweater and jeans, the perfect picture of the high-cheekboned slightly older, but still the quintessential girl next door.

  “I have a little surprise for you,” I said and ran right up past her, taking the ten stairs to where I knew Jackie’s bedroom to be (but never having seen).

  “I’ll call you when I’m ready,” I called down to Jackie as I made her top stair.

  The soft-spoken lady and I had fallen back into familiar patterns pretty quick, superimposing our likes, needs and wants over the feelings we had had for each other way back when. What would come of all this traipsing over old ground while living in the new, who knew, but Jackie had to have assumed we’d get beyond the recent necking we had been doing on her couch.

  I found the light switch in her well-appointed and super-neat brown and beige room, threw my bag on her bed and began stripping completely. The last time Jackie had seen me naked we had both been in our twenties and though I was nervous I was ready to have her see me now . . . though on my terms, for the first time in over two decades.

  I was pretty damn near flooding by the time I plucked my thong out of my ass.

  Opening my purse I pulled out the leg warmers and a pair of the highest heels I owned. As I sat on Jackie’s bed to roll the first leg warmer up my right leg, I came so close to pressing the heel of my palm down on my pussy as the action of smoothing that blue meshy cotton up my lotioned bare thighs got to me once again.

  Slowly, I rolled the first leg warmer over my tiny right foot, then worked it up my elongated calf and finally, finally smoothed it up my round thigh, stretching it all the way out and up. The tight blue material felt so good, a tactile sensation of warmth encasing my thick leg; I must have lain on Jackie’s high four-poster for a good minute, one leg warmer on, the other at my side, just trying to settle my breathing so my big tits didn’t bounce so much in all the muted excitement.

  I could only imagine what Jackie must have been thinking I was up to.

  Easing into the other leg warmer a minute later, smoothing it up my left leg, sighing as I did so, keeping my hands from between my legs (God only knows how), I finally sat up to wiggle myself to the edge of the bed. I squeezed my feet into the open-toed black patent leather pumps on the floor and stood as best I could.

  There was a full-length mirror attached to the inside of Jackie’s closet door, so I simply opened it fully to get a good look. Although I had posed just like this in the privacy of my home all this past week, these unfamiliar surroundings and the unfamiliar feeling of having Jackie about to see me naked, was making me swoon. I spread my long thighs wide, creating a rock-hard, blue inverted “V”.

  The truth was I was pretty much femme and I loved how these leg warmers “clothed” me (that’s really the only word for it) all the way up my thighs; how at the top of that high blue run up my long legs there was maybe two inches of bare thigh flesh; how your eye (I hoped Jackie’s would) ran right up to my single landing-strip trimmed pussy; how the heels pushed my calf muscles up just right, tightened my thighs and how when I held my stomach in just a bit, gazed up to my big tits – swooping nice and natural if I do say so myself – I really did cut an attractive naked picture.

  Then I spun, giving myself a quick glance over my shoulder. Although a little bit wider than when Jackie had last seen it, my bottom was still very round and still quite high . . . but the fucking leg warmers accentuated it so much when I click-a’clicked my heels across her wooden bedroom floor. I turned myself in the doorway and stuck my ass out to her hall and I was more than ready.

  “Jackie,” I sang down, trying to force a confidence in my voice I certainly did not feel.

  I suddenly realized Jackie could have refused to come up right then, teasing me like I was hoping to tease her. I nearly swooned at the idea that the clever girl (and Jackie was definitely clever) might just do that, but then I heard her start up the stairs. Lifting my hands and spreading my legs, I framed the door frame, poised and stretched, pushing my ankles to the wall and reaching as high as I could with my hands, like a big sexy “X” in the doorway.

  “So?” I asked, after I heard my girlfriend round the wall and come up short in the hall.

  I didn’t dare look over my shoulder.

  “Shit,” Jackie exclaimed and I heard her step up close to my behind.

  “Surprised?”

  “I didn’t even know they made those anymore,” Jackie said and I sensed her take another step.

  This only caused my already flooding pussy to ache deeper as I repositioned my heels to stop from arching my ass back to her. As much as I was willing her to touch me, get the first-time-which-wasn’t-really-a-first-time anticipation over with, I loved every blessed second of waiting for Jackie to do so.

  “Step forward a smidgen,” she whispered.

  I had thought Jackie would have touched me by now, but all I felt was her hot breath on my back as she moved into the doorway. I teased her by doing just as she asked, just as she came up close enough to brush my back with her pointy tits. Free of the door frame, I lowered my arms, but kept my legs spread and my head straight.

  “A little more,” she teased, stepping up to me again.

  We’d have to stop all this shucking and teasing sooner than later though, her room wasn’t really all that big and I was already standing in the center of it.

  “You are really something, Lynn,” she said and before I even had the time to move, I felt Jackie’s sweet thin lips on my . . . ass!

  “Can you spread your legs a little more?” she mumbled below me, as I felt her kneel under me. Placing a hand to the inside of each of my thighs, she rubbed the material of the leg warmers into the creases of my ass to “help” me open my legs wider.

  My knees began to shake. “Jack—” I managed as the woman under me continued to knead the back insides of my thighs, pushing both the leg warmers and my flesh so I had to get gently up on my toes.

  “Mmm,” Jackie said, kissing the bottom of my ass, still rubbing the leg warmers. “Wider, Lynn, spread wider.”

  She was nuzzling right under me, kissing and licking, her strong little hands wrapped around the back of my upper thighs as I spread my legs even wider. Just as I felt I couldn’t take much more, too close to my pussy as she was, I realized what she was after.

  Jackie was sitting fully under me, getting all the way under and through my legs . . . and turning.

  As she came through my legs, I looked down between my tits at the first girl I had ever loved sitting at my feet, grinning up at my crotch.

  “You are really . . .” Jackie began. She leaned in and kissed me right on my thin strip of hair. “Really—” kiss “—really—” This time she leaned her chin back, sat down as hard as she could and dove in deep.

  “Fuuck,” I spat as the girl below me spread my pussy open, flicked the tip of her tongue between my silky lips then retreated.

  “Really something,” she finished leaning out of my crotch. She rolled up to me even closer, cupped a hand around the front of each leg warmer, pushed a thumb into the inside of each of my thighs and pulled me to her.

  “Fuck,” I repeated, trying to adjust my “squirt heels” as my ex, new, whatever-have-you girlfriend began to really lap me.

  “Yes, yessssss,” I growled as Jackie found her way between my gloppy lips and touched the tip of her tongue to my suffering pink clit, retreated, teased me again by licking slightly then retreating. I wasn’t sure if I was
shaking more to her tongue flattening out across the inside of my warmth or to her strong thumbs working furrows into the inside of my thighs at the top of the leg warmers.

  “Eat me, eat me,” I screamed as I all but lay atop the woman’s raven-haired head.

  Jackie kept her hands on my legs, caressing the soft material, massaging my thick skin pushing over the top. My heavy tits were shaking, my little nipples rock-hard diamond points as I rubbed my pussy deep into her face and arched my back.

  “Mmmm,” I growled as Jackie retreated once again to look up at me.

  “Great view,” she announced, looking up from under my big tits, still rubbing my legs.

  “It’s been a long long time, Lynn,” she added, smiling up at me with my juice glistening on her little mouth. From what I remembered of our past, Jackie had never really gotten into eating pussy, but there again we were so young back then. As I was coming to learn in my reacquaintance with her, there is a chasm of difference between the all-about-friction “lovemaking” a twenty-year old girl can offer and the slow building consistency a forty-four-year-old woman has come to learn.

  “More, honey, more,” I said, as I reached forward and grabbed the back of Jackie’s head.

  She let me push her back into my suffering wet pussy and I stood up tall to receive all of her skilled mouth on me. Jackie grabbed the front of my thighs again, stabbing her fingers into the thick leg warmers, flattening her tongue. Now was the time, I knew, I’d never get so perfect a chance again; I sighed, clutched my ass cheeks and lifted my right leg. Placing the hollow cup of the back of my knee right on her shoulder, I gingerly pushed down so I could balance. I knew Jackie would have no problem with holding me, still it was hot as all hell putting my weight on her, easing my pussy even further forward into her mouth and making Jackie support my thick right leg on her shoulder.

  “Jackieeeeeeeeeeee,” I yelped and then I finally, finally looked down.

  My thick skin was pushed up over the top of the single blue stocking, nice and taut, not bulging over. The fact that my leg looked so fucking good, not a hint of cellulite, excited me maybe as much as Jackie’s face flattened into my crotch, her tongue just as flattened against my clit.

  “Jackie,” I wailed, grabbing down into her long locks. And although I knew it would be the end for me, I lifted my calf and watched my heel come into view just as Jackie inserted her tongue up into my hole.

  “Jackie!”

  I came, balancing there on my ex/new girlfriend, my high-heeled shoe shaking off my foot as I did so.

  A full minute after my last shudder, I slowly extricated myself from my position. Lifting my leg off her shoulder, Jackie stood. She took a couple of steps back to look me up and down.

  “You look good,” she remarked, that grin still plastered on her glistening face. I felt more vulnerable now with Jackie looking me up and down than I had with her face in my crotch.

  “What do we do now?” I asked, leaning in to kiss her wet lips. I had a whole bunch of answers to that particular question.

  “Join me on the bed?” she asked and I smiled, lifting my leg to flip the other heel off.

  “I was kinda hoping you’d put them back on,” she remarked.

  I stopped, smiled and moved an inch to retrieve the heel that had fallen. With both heels on, I pulled the leg warmers up my thighs and turned with the woman to her bed.

  SWEET DISCIPLINE

  Jay Lawrence

  Helena sat in the small corrugated-iron hut that sheltered those waiting for the train to the city. She was the only passenger at the tiny near-deserted station. It was a miracle it hadn’t been closed and certainly felt abandoned. Graffiti scrawled across the sides of the shelter and the railway track stretched away into the distance, its parallel lines converging at the gray horizon. Helena listened for the train. It was a still cold February day and she was sure she’d hear it coming long before it pulled into the neglected stop.

  There was method in her choice of station and train. She knew that there was little chance of another passenger sharing the freezing cold metal seat in the shelter and that the train would pull up to the platform in such a way that she was almost certain to be level with an empty compartment. These considerations were part of her plan.

  A train horn sounded in the distance and Helena rose. If there had been another passenger they would have been rather surprised, even shocked by the young woman’s choice of footwear. Beneath her long coat she wore a pair of black leather thigh boots with six-inch stiletto heels. In one hand she carried a riding crop.

  The train pulled into the station. As always, an empty compartment was level with the shelter. Helena opened the door and stepped inside, her high narrow heels making a satisfying clicking sound on the hard floor. She sat down in one corner and crossed her legs, letting her coat fall open to reveal the tiny miniskirt she wore, the expanse of smooth stocking-clad thigh above the top of the boots. Already, her nipples were hard with anticipation, her pussy slick with the thought of an assignation.

  The train moved off, slowly gathering speed. Helena traced the contours of her boots with the tip of the riding crop. The boots were beautifully constructed of fine supple leather. Like all her fetish footwear, they were custom made by an old Italian cobbler in the city. Her panties were soaked with arousal as she stroked her sensitive inner thighs with the crop. Behind her, the door to the next compartment opened, as she knew it would. Her heart began to beat fast and she lowered the crop, let it drop to the floor.

  “Good morning, Miss von Buren.”

  “Good morning.” She never used her acquaintance’s name, preferring her to be an anonymous lover.

  “What beautiful boots. My, how high the heels are. How spiked.”

  “Yes.”

  Helena’s voice trailed away to a whisper as the woman pushed her gloved fingers through Helena’s thick black hair.

  “Stand up, Miss von Buren.”

  She did as instructed, swaying gently with the rocking motion of the train. Her eyes were slightly vacant, as if drowsy. The woman looked at her with cool appraisal, taking in her tight sweater and miniskirt, her long slender thighs, the incredible boots.

  “You will do.”

  “Yes.” This time Helena’s voice was barely audible, like a falling leaf.

  “The crop, Miss von Buren.”

  Helena crouched to retrieve it and, as she rose, the woman pushed her forward so she knelt on the seat. With one harsh movement, she flipped up her coat and revealed her hips.

  “Pull up your skirt and take down your panties.”

  She obeyed, exposing firm white buttocks to the woman. Her eyes were tightly closed as she felt the tip of the crop trace the contours of her bottom.

  “Have you been behaving yourself this week?”

  “No, madam.”

  “Indeed? Been fornicating with the post girl?”

  “No, madam.”

  “Licking the pussy of the slut next door?”

  “No, madam.”

  “I see. Well, such neglect is wicked indeed.”

  Helena leaned forward, pushing her naked bottom toward the woman. She longed to feel the sting of the crop as it snapped across her smooth creamy flesh. As always, the woman made her wait, savouring the way she squirmed and physically begged for discipline. Teasingly, she ran the leather loop at the crop’s tip up and down the cleft of Helena’s bottom and she shuddered, a fine crop of gooseflesh ruffling her skin.

  “You do want this so badly, Miss von Buren. It does please me.”

  There was a pause during which Helena almost held her breath then the crop cracked down upon her tender buttocks. As always, she moaned softly at the pleasurable pain. Discipline was like a drug. She craved it through the week until it was time to take the train again . . . Again and again the crop snapped against her bottom and she leaped like a fish out of water, wriggling with the intense discomfort that was compellingly arousing. Her cunt was slick, her pussy lips swollen. Again, again, agai
n . . . Scarlet welts appeared on her ivory skin, a neat criss-cross pattern of punishment that she treasured until they faded away.

  “That’s better, isn’t it? Now you can meet your little friend with soaking panties and a nice red-hot behind.”

  “Thank you, madam.”

  Reluctantly, Helena pulled up her panties and made herself presentable. She wanted more. More of the stinging, biting crop, faster and harder. It was a drug. Once you tasted it you had to have more. She sat down again, feeling the intense warmth of her chastised buttocks. She crossed her legs, almost painfully aware of her wet panties.

  “Until next week, Miss von Buren.”

  The woman briefly reached down, slid one hand inside Helena’s sweater and pinched her nipple. Then she left, exiting the compartment through the same door she had entered. The liaison was timed to perfection and the train began to slow down as they left the empty fields behind for the city suburbs.

  As always, Anya was waiting to meet Helena’s train. Anya was a student, a few years younger, a pretty girl with dark-auburn hair. The friends kissed then walked briskly to Anya’s apartment. Once inside, they kissed again, a very different kiss to the chaste one they had exchanged in the railway station. Hungrily, Helena pushed Anya up against the wall, her tongue exploring the other girl’s mouth. Taking a dominant role that was in sharp contrast to her submission on the train, she thrust her hand under Anya’s short skirt and caressed her soaking crotch. Anya cried out in pleasure and threw her head back, arching her spine and grinding her pussy over Helena’s fingers.

  “Please!” she moaned. “Please fuck me!”

  Helena removed her hand and traced Anya’s parted lips with musk-scented fingers. “Go to the bedroom and put on your boots.”