Jennifer lifted her mouth, noticed the girl’s flushed cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes. It was only then, looking over her shoulder, that she realized the boat had drifted away from the bank. They were now in the middle of an expanse of water. The girl noticed her shocked expression, and giggled. “Do not worry. I will row us back.”
“OK.”
“But first,” the girl continued, adjusting her position, “stay on your knees, but face the other way.”
Jennifer did exactly as she was told. Her body was aching to be touched. She was willing to do whatever was offered. She rested her arms on the side of the boat. Her head faced the water. Her pulsed quickened with eager anticipation. The shorts were pulled off, then her pants. Her buttocks were massaged, first with hands, and then with gentle, butterfly kisses. The cheeks were parted and a tongue slipped inside, running in a slow line all the way from the top, leaving a trail of juice in its wake. Jennifer felt dizzy. It was so deliciously naughty to be licked there, so incredibly sensitive. The flowing water became a rocky blur as a finger was pushed inside. Jennifer bit into her arm, grazing the skin. A hand reached forwards and circled her clit. Jennifer was already reaching her first climax. Her hot juices flowed down onto the wooden deck.
“You are a naughty, naughty Englishwoman,” the girl teased, as she applied more pressure to the clit. Jennifer responded instantly by spraying all over her hand.
The tongue was everywhere now: between her warm slippery buttocks, darting inside her hot cunt, toying with her throbbing clit. The hands groped and massaged her full, hanging breasts. Jennifer was overcome with desire, lust and pleasure. Her only concern when she reached her final, explosive orgasm was that the little boat might topple over.
The French girl was as good as her word. She rowed them both safely back to shore. They parted at the wooden bench, exactly where they had met.
“Au revoir,” the girl said, planting a warm kiss on Jennifer’s lips.
“Au revoir,” Jennifer responded.
First long hard day back at work, and Jennifer was glad to catch the train home. She sat in carriage four alone. There was nobody to entertain her. The train passed a station. The carriage shook. She discreetly slipped a finger between her thighs, then closed her eyes and smiled. Jennifer knew that she had enough memories to make the 16.22 journey home an enjoyable one for a long, long time.
FIRST NIGHT ON A WATERBED
Giselle Renarde
She’d never slept in Wanda’s bed before. It felt weird. Not just being there in Wanda’s house while the kids spent a week with their grandparents, but the bed itself. Janelle had never been on a waterbed before. There was something unsettling about it. She’d never known anyone who owned one, and it seemed like an oddly decadent flashback to the eighties. Plus, she was afraid of getting seasick during the night.
“What do you think?” Wanda stood naked in the doorway.
Janelle grinned. “You look good enough to eat, babe.”
With a chuckle deep in her throat, Wanda approached the behemoth of a bed. “Not about me, silly. About the waterbed!”
“Oh.” Janelle plastered on a fake smile to cover the look of apprehension on her face. There were mirrors everywhere in Wanda’s bedroom. You couldn’t look one way or another without seeing yourself. “It’s different.”
Wanda leaped onboard and the water sloshed inside the mattress. A tidal wave sent Janelle tumbling towards the far edge, and she let out a little shriek as she fell, but Wanda grabbed her hips and pulled her towards the centre. Wanda was so damn strong – that’s one of the things that had attracted Janelle when they first met. Felt like a hundred years ago, in some ways, but in reality they’d only known one another a couple of months.
“What are you doing still in your clothes, little girl?” Wanda crawled the length of Janelle’s body, like a big cat on the prowl. “I thought I told you to get these things off.”
“I know.” Janelle returned Wanda’s fiendish smile. “I was waiting for you.”
Wanda kissed her neck, and that quick peck was hard and sizzling and dry. Sharp. Another kiss, this one a little wetter, landed on Janelle’s chest. The curve of her breasts peeked out beyond her modest V-neck top, but Wanda attacked whatever was visible. Wanda’s long hot tongue ran the length of Janelle’s cleavage, up and down that little line of flesh. God, it felt good when she used her tongue that way. Janelle kept praying Wanda would dig in deeper, find a peaked nipple in there, suck it hard.
“You gonna do a strip show for me, little girl?” Wanda raised her head from Janelle’s breasts and winked.
“No!” The idea made her giggle. She also loved the way Wanda called her little girl. It had been years since Janelle had felt in any sense little . . . or girlish. “I want you to undress me.”
“Oh, I see.” Wanda wasted no time – she was stripping off Janelle’s top even as she spoke. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”
Janelle’s hair stuck up with static electricity as her top fell to the floor somewhere beside the bed. The air was dry and cool enough to coax her nipples to tiny pebbled points. Her chest was heaving already, her breasts rising and falling inside her simple white bra, and she was almost out of breath even though they’d just begun.
Wanda knelt between Janelle’s spread legs, big breasts swaying as she unbuttoned and unzipped the fly on Janelle’s jeans. Her motions were violent as she pulled that tight denim past Janelle’s full hips, yanking so hard the water underneath them sloshed inside its rubberized casing. There were tides in this bed, and they were wild.
Lolling with the waves, Janelle raised both her legs so Wanda could pull off her jeans and panties. Wanda dived at Janelle, landing flush against her nearly naked skin. Wrapping her in strong arms, Wanda kissed her hard, forcing a tyrannical tongue into Janelle’s surprised mouth.
Janelle never could keep up with Wanda’s passion, but Wanda had assured her there was no need. Her job was just to lie back and take what Wanda wanted to give, and Wanda’s job was to give it, hard and fast and strong, every time. Wanda was not a sweet and sensitive lover, but sweetness and sensitivity were overrated. Janelle couldn’t get off on sweet and sensitive. Forceful and frenzied did the trick.
A whirlwind of sexual energy spun her out of control as Wanda wove one hand through Janelle’s hair, clenching it in an unforgiving fist. The other hand worked its way down to Janelle’s bra, tearing the cup aside to grab her bare breast. God, her nipple ached with the strain of arousal and cold. It would be nice to feel Wanda’s hot mouth latched to her breasts, sucking at her peaked nipples. Just thinking about it made Janelle buck against Wanda’s naked thigh.
“Suck my tits,” Janelle pleaded, breaking away from their hot kiss. “Please, God, please!”
Wanda laughed. “I doubt if God’s the one gonna be sucking your tits. Maybe I will . . .”
Such a tease.
“Do it, Wanda, suck my tits. And go really hard, babe. I want it to hurt.” Janelle grabbed the cups of her bra and held them both down beneath her breasts. When her naked tits met her woman’s naked tits, everything inside of her jumped. It was pure pleasure.
“Well . . .” Wanda’s breath rushed against Janelle’s forehead, hot as lava. “If you insist . . .” And she began her quick descent, crawling down Janelle’s body, planting fierce kisses as she travelled that fleshy path. She stopped when her mouth hovered over Janelle’s naked tits. Hot breath mingled with the sharp coldness of her nipples and made them burn.
The pleasure was excruciating, and Janelle just wanted more, more, more. “Suck them.” She felt empowered like this, holding her bra down and sticking out her tits. “Suck.”
Wanda let out a jaguar’s growl as her tongue struck Janelle’s right tit. Despite the softness of that petal-pink tongue, its sheer heat made Janelle pull away. The swiftness of her motion caused another tidal wave inside the waterbed and Janelle wished she had something to hold on to. So she held on to Wanda’s head, inadvertently pressing it down
on her tit, forcing the flesh of her breast further into that hot wet mouth. Wanda went with it, sucking more than just her nipple now, sucking her breast.
Janelle had never felt anything like this, and she couldn’t keep herself from writhing against Wanda’s belly, trying to angle her hips in such a way that her clit would strike her woman’s stomach. The harder Wanda sucked her tits, back and forth between the two, the wetter her pussy got. She could only tell because her juice was leaking out of her cunt and running down her crack. When it slowed around the puckered ring of her asshole, she wished Wanda would shove something in there. A finger, a dildo – didn’t matter what.
Watching this fierce woman savouring her breasts, Janelle felt like a rabbit being eaten by a fox. Wanda brought that kind of energy to sex, and Janelle needed it. She was too lethargic otherwise. That’s what she loved so much about her relationship with Wanda: they balanced each other out.
And that’s what Janelle was thinking when she blurted the words, “I love you, babe!”
Wanda stopped sucking Janelle’s breast, and indeed let it fall from her mouth as she looked up. Her eyes were wide, so wide they looked more white than brown. The only sound in the room was the vulgar sloshing of water inside the mattress.
They’d never ventured into “I love you” territory before. And, in truth, Janelle didn’t mean to say the words. She wasn’t sure why she had, except that they were true. They were true, weren’t they? This had gone beyond flirtation, beyond fling, beyond sexual relief. They talked every day now. Wanda’s kids had met Janelle, though she’d been introduced as merely a friend, and they didn’t seem to mind her. There was a future here. In fact, the more Janelle processed it in the slow moments they spent staring at each other, the truer it became.
Janelle said it again. “I love you, Wanda. I’m in love with you.”
Even the rude squelching noises from waterbed couldn’t break the thick tension in Wanda’s bedroom. Janelle wanted to hear those words back now, but hot trepidation shot through her core as she met Wanda’s startled gaze. She wasn’t going to get her “I love you” was she? Maybe Wanda didn’t love her. Maybe this relationship meant something altogether different to Wanda than it did to Janelle.
And then a growl rose up through Wanda’s body, deep, like it originated down in her gut and rumbled all the way to her throat. She sounded like a grizzly bear. Abandoning Janelle’s bare breasts, she licked a zigzag pattern downwards. Her tongue landed in hot slashes all along Janelle’s belly, then cut left to kiss Janelle’s thigh. Everything felt so hot, so wet. Even when the crisp air met with cooling saliva, everything sizzled.
Wanda dived between Janelle’s spread thighs and attacked her engorged clit. Her whole pussy felt fat and wonderfully wet even before Wanda met it, but the second that hot tongue touched down on her spread pussy lips Janelle lurched forwards. “Holy Mother!” She didn’t know where those words came from, exactly.
“Little girl,” Wanda teased, her voice dark as velvet, “I am most certainly not your mother.”
Janelle laughed until Wanda’s sizzling mouth met her pussy lips again, and then the pleasure was too sharp and too vast to be chortled at. Perching on her elbows, Janelle craned her neck forwards. She needed to get a look at what her woman was doing down there. It was always such a mystery, how one mouth could accomplish so much. It had a tongue that licked and teeth that bit, lips that drew into a tight little rosebud to suck her clit. Wanda’s mouth was magic.
The water beneath their bodies waved in even laps, rocking them gently, maybe even maternally. This bed was growing on Janelle, despite its jostling motion and rude noises. It added dimension to their lovemaking, certainly. Not that Wanda required any improvement. Her tongue worked fast against Janelle’s clit, flicking up and down as Wanda slithered to her belly like a snake at the base of the mattress.
“God, you are amazing!” Janelle pressed her hard nipples between her fingers and thumbs, rolling them, squeezing.
Wanda barely stopped licking to mumble, “Ain’t God that’s licking your pussy, little girl.”
That bizarre combination of words made Janelle tingle. But, hell, just about everything Wanda did made her tingle at least a little bit. Just catching sight of her woman in the buff, those big boobs taunting her, wide hips beckoning, made her clit twitch. Watching Wanda go down on her made her entire body tremble.
And that’s when Janelle realized that Wanda had her own way of saying, “I love you” and this was it. Not everybody could speak the words. Janelle never had much trouble expressing emotion, but there were a lot of people who couldn’t. So maybe she should cut Wanda a little slack. The proof was in the pudding, and Wanda proved her love every time she put her face between Janelle’s thighs.
The idea of Wanda’s muffled moans and growls as words of love made Janelle feel weak with pleasure. She dug her heels into the mattress, but couldn’t get any traction and her feet skidded. Wanda caught her ass with both hands and lifted it, blowing cool air against her burning clit. “Like that, hmm?”
Janelle moaned with her lips closed, trying to stay quiet even though they were alone in the house. She couldn’t stand the torture of Wanda’s soft breath, not in the wake of all that intense sensation. She begged Wanda to take her clit between those full pink lips and suck it hard, but Wanda just smiled coyly and kept on blowing.
Finally, Janelle couldn’t stand the suspense. She wanted to feel the pleasure, and she needed to feel the love. Pressing her wet cunt against Wanda’s lips, she rubbed her splayed pussy lips on Wanda’s mouth.
“Suck it!” Janelle cried. Her voice cracked as she bucked at Wanda’s face. “Suck my clit, babe. I love you!”
With an animal moan, Wanda tore into Janelle, nibbling her clit and shoving a couple fingers in her hot cunt. God, Janelle was wet. She was sopping wet, with juice running down her crack and soaking the bed sheets. When Janelle bucked to meet those firm fingers, the pad of Wanda’s thumb met her asshole. She shrieked with the sensation she always wanted but would never ask for, and Wanda took the hint.
Sucking like crazy on Janelle’s fat clit, Wanda traced tight circles around that puckered hole with her thumb. Janelle moaned, “Yes, babe, yes,” until Wanda forged a path through the tight ring of muscle. A thumb was probably all Janelle could take in her ass, and with Wanda’s fingers already lodged in her cunt, she felt full. It was a welcome sensation.
“Come for me, little girl.” Wanda nibbled Janelle’s clit, then sucked it again, making her scream with surprise.
The motion of Wanda’s fingers and thumb thrusting in her two holes encouraged waves beneath their bodies, and those waves echoed the typhoon of desire coursing through Janelle’s core. There was a tight buzz in her belly, and she wanted to both buck and push at once. Wanda was working her so hard her body didn’t seem to know what it wanted first, but she found herself rolling to one side, writhing, whimpering as the pleasure mounted beyond her capacity to enjoy it.
Janelle tried to close her legs, but Wanda held them open.
“No!” Janelle cried.
“Yes.” Wanda quit sucking, but kept reaming her pussy and ass with those perfect fingers.
Wanda was right. “Yes!” Janelle shouted, fighting the slow tides beneath the mattress and fucking Wanda’s hand with her pussy and her ass. It was only her clit that was worn out. Somehow Wanda knew that. Wanda was amazing that way.
Janelle came again, right away, not from clit stimulation this time but from the sheer pleasure of being filled, of being thrusted in. This time her orgasm was a growl, not a whimper, and then a groan, and then a sequence of shouts and curses as she flipped herself around on the bed, feeling the water splosh and recoil under her breasts and her belly.
“Oh my God,” Janelle sighed, again and again. She could hardly breathe as she found Wanda’s beautiful body and cuddled against it. Now more than ever, she knew what love was. Wanda didn’t have to say the words. This pleasure in bed was more than enough.
Janelle nearly fell asleep listening to the water lap beneath the pillow. She was just on the verge of dreaming when she heard Wanda’s voice: “You know what, little girl? I think I love you too.”
HEN DAY
Eva Hore
I was lying in bed, my fingers in my pussy, my thumb grazing my clit. I could think of nothing worse than organizing a hens’ day but that’s what I had been doing for the last few weeks. My sister Sue was getting married and I had to organize the whole thing. Boring! She wanted a winery tour and I was imagining her silly friends getting pissed and me having to spend time with them on the bus.
I needed to be calm as Sue was sure to be a drama queen all day so I continued on masturbating, bringing myself to a powerful orgasm, one that had me gyrating all over the bed. It was fantastic, the sort of one that has you tingling, barely able to touch it again yet wanting more and more.
So it was because of that intensity I was running late. Sue barged in while I was in the throes of, I think, my third.
“You are disgusting,” she blurted. “This is my day and all you can think about is yourself.”
“Get out of my room,” I shouted, “and next time knock.”
Here we go, I thought, the day hadn’t even started. Anyway I reluctantly left my comfy bed and hurried into the shower. I had a bad feeling that this was going to be a hens’ day I wouldn’t forget too quickly.
Apart from me being just a little bit late, everything else ran on schedule. The girls were in the bus and waiting for me, drinks in hands as I alighted. I gave the driver an apologetic look.
She was the only good thing about the day. Her name was Jo and she was fantastic. Nothing was too much trouble for her. She put up with the girls crude remarks and innuendos regarding other drivers, guys on footpaths were hooted at by the girls and she was extremely tolerant of their antics.
The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Stories Page 18