The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Stories

by Barbara Cardy

  She waited long enough to make sure that Nadine could open the documents she needed, then, taking one last whiff of the girl’s musk-rich perfume, turned to go back to her desk.

  “Thanks so much, Kay,” Nadine said, gratitude shining in her eyes. “This might sound a bit cheeky, but I wondered if you might be able to take a look at my home PC. It’s running a lot slower than it used to, and . . .”

  “Well, I don’t make a habit of home calls, but – sure.” Anything to spend longer in Nadine’s company. “When did you have in mind?”

  “Are you free tonight?”

  Kay hesitated just long enough to give the impression she might have plans, then nodded. “Yeah. I can fit you in.”

  “OK, see you in reception after work, then.”

  The hours crawled, more than they usually did, until the hands of the clock finally hit five thirty. Nadine already stood in reception when Kay arrived. She appeared to have applied a fresh coat of lipgloss, red as strawberries, almost asking to be kissed right off her soft lips. Kay gave herself a mental shake. This was strictly a favor to a work colleague, nothing more, however much she might like it to be.

  They traveled in Kay’s car, Nadine not objecting to Kay’s usual choice of listening, a classic rock station whose choice of down-and-dirty tunes with low, pulsating bass lines only stoked Kay’s lust higher.

  Nadine rented a flat in what had, until recently, been a school, the high-ceilinged Victorian rooms sympathetically renovated. Kay’s eyes were immediately drawn to a tank containing a coiled and sleeping snake. Somehow, the reptile didn’t fit the sweet, innocent image Nadine created at work, with her soft toys and girly curls, but Kay reckoned it didn’t hurt to be surprised by someone.

  She gestured towards the snake. “What is that, a python?”

  “Yeah, my ex hated it. She reckoned that one night it’d get out of the tank and slither over her face while she was asleep. It was part of the reason why we split up. That and the fact she cheated on me.”

  So much information to process. Most notably, the fact that Nadine’s ex was female. Kay could have whooped with pleasure. But that just meant Nadine was into girls, not necessarily that she was into Kay.

  “So where’s this PC of yours, then?” Kay asked.

  “It’s the laptop on the table,” Nadine replied, pointing. “I’ll just get us some wine while you look at it. Australian Shiraz OK?”

  “Perfect.” Kay bent over the table, powering up the computer. Behind her, she heard the sound of wine glasses clinking and Nadine’s heels clicking on the polished floorboards as she went to fetch the wine.

  As Kay examined the PC, she began to wonder exactly what might be wrong with it. She’d been expecting a machine overloaded with unnecessary software, or some kind of malware inadvertently downloaded when Nadine had been surfing the Net, but everything seemed fine. When she felt a body pressing up against hers from behind and small hands reaching round to cup her breasts, she started to suspect the whole story had just been a ruse to get her back to the flat.

  “Found anything, go-to girl?” Nadine breathed in her ear, breasts firm and full against Kay’s back.

  “Nothing that can’t wait,” Kay replied, feeling juice trickle from her pussy into the crotch of her knickers as her body responded to Nadine’s caress.

  “So why don’t we take this to the bedroom?” “This” meant Nadine’s hands sliding under Kay’s T-shirt, cool against her overheating skin.

  Kay let Nadine take her hand and lead her through to the bedroom, where the wine and glasses stood waiting on the bedside cabinet. She barely had time to register an impression of pink-painted walls and ruffled, girly bedcovers before Nadine pushed her onto the bed and started fumbling with the fly of her jeans.

  “So let’s get this straight,” Kay said, as her jeans were ruthlessly pulled down her legs and off, Nadine removing her boots and socks with them. “There never was anything wrong with your laptop, was there?”

  Nadine shook her head, not at all ashamed of her deception. “But how else can you get the go-to girl to go to you?” When she had Kay down to nothing but her white cotton knickers, visibly wet at the crotch, she paused. “Wait there a moment, I have something for you.”

  Kay lay back, idly toying with her own nipples as she watched Nadine shimmy out of her size-too-small work clothing. Under the boring ensemble of black suit and white blouse, she wore only a bright pink bra. Just as Kay had fantasized, she went knickerless to work. Not just that, her pussy was shaved completely clean and, as she walked over to the bedside cabinet, Kay caught a flash of gold peeping between her legs and realized Nadine had a clit piercing.

  Again, a glimpse of the naughty girl beneath the nice exterior. This encounter was growing kinkier by the minute, and Kay didn’t mind a bit.

  “Here we go.” Nadine pulled something from a drawer as she spoke. When she tossed the items on the bed, Kay saw they were a glittery blue jelly dildo and a bottle of lube. “Now let’s get you nice and wet.”

  As if I’m not wet enough already, Kay thought, pussy awash with juice at the thought of all the games they could play with that big, thick dildo. She expected Nadine to reach for the lube; instead, the blonde got down between Kay’s legs and pulled the crotch of her knickers aside so she could lick at her sex. The tip of her tongue flicked over Kay’s clit, slow and languid, making her bite back a cry as pleasure bubbled to the surface, faster and sweeter than she could have expected.

  The feel of Nadine’s mouth, breath huffing hot against her cunt, made her eager to return the favor. Awkwardly, getting used to the way Nadine’s slim but heavy-breasted body molded into her own, Kay wriggled round so her own mouth was at the apex of Nadine’s thighs. She flicked her tongue against the ring in Nadine’s clit, and the girl moaned, making Kay wonder how much more sensitive the fleshy bud had become since being pierced.

  Nadine broke off from her oral exploration of Kay’s slit to whimper, “More, please.” How quickly she’d gone from the smart, devious cookie who’d lured Kay back here for girl-on-girl fun to this needy little scrap who writhed against Kay’s muscular, probing tongue. Kay slipped a finger into Nadine’s wet, pink hole, following swiftly with a second and enjoying the way the velvet channel clasped tight around them both. Even tighter, when Nadine bucked her body against the sheets, lost in the throes of orgasm. Her juices gushed out into Kay’s mouth, salt-sweet, and Kay grinned in satisfaction at having brought her lover off with next to no effort.

  Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t anxious for her own satisfaction. Nadine seemed to realize that, as she came down from the heights of her passion, hunting around for the dildo on the rumpled bed sheets. Forgoing the lube, she wet it instead with her own saliva, treating Kay to the beautiful sight of her lips stretched around the pretty blue toy. As Nadine sucked the dildo, Kay strummed her own clit, the crotch of her knickers still pushed to one side. Leaving them on somehow felt naughtier than taking them off, and she liked the feeling.

  “Are you ready for me?” Nadine asked, crawling up the bed, glistening dildo clutched in her fist.

  Kay just nodded, almost too turned on to speak. Her body was on edge, primed and waiting for the moment that big slick thing slid deep inside her. But Nadine had one more surprise in store. Cuffs of soft, padded leather dangled from the bed head. Almost before Kay was aware of it, Nadine had buckled her wrists into them, leaving her restrained and more horny than before.

  It seemed an age before Nadine finally guided the dildo into Kay’s waiting passage, giving her the satisfaction she craved. She had toys of her own at home, of course, but nothing that stretched her quite the way this did, parting her lips wide and leaving her clit exposed to Nadine’s touch.

  But now it was Nadine’s turn to make Kay beg for her pleasure. Taking a long sip of her wine, she looked down at Kay, who could only wait helplessly until Nadine decided to take pity on her.

  “Got a solution to this problem, go-to girl?” Nadine grinned,
looking down on Kay with wicked delight in her eyes, just as turned on as Kay by this little show of dominance.

  “Yes. All you have to do is make me come – please . . .” Her last word dissolved in a sob as Nadine’s finger brushed her clit. The nerve endings throughout her pussy quivered and sang out, revelling in the stimulation, but still Kay strained in her bonds, needing, wanting even more. Sweat trickled between her breasts as Nadine worked on her with a combination of her fingertip and the dildo, fucking Kay like she’d never been fucked before. Just as she was wondering if it was possible to expire from pure pleasure, her cunt convulsed around the toy and she came, crying out Nadine’s name over and again, till the last sweet ripples of bliss died away.

  Nadine didn’t release her, not straight away. First, she gave Kay a few welcome sips of wine, brushing strands of damp hair from her eyes. Only then did she unfasten the cuffs, so they could enfold each other in an embrace.

  “Harry was right,” Nadine murmured, between soft kisses. “You were able to help me. He just doesn’t know what I wanted you to help me with.”

  “Any time you have a problem, I’ll be there for you, Nadine,” Kay replied, for the first time in her life truly accepting her role as go-to girl. And so what if Nadine’s problems involved bondage and naughty sex games? Coming up with a solution would be part of the fun.

  Read another Courtney James story in Lesbian Erotica Volume 1

  FORBIDDEN TOUCHES

  Chris Westlake

  It felt like a wonderful, but ultimately cruel, game. She had been told that she could look, but not touch. And, damn, did she want to touch. Her hands clasped together behind her back. She longed to reach out and touch, to stroke the delicious olive skin, to caress and fondle the wonderfully long limbs. She repeated over and over – like a mantra – that she must not touch. The thighs parted just a few extra inches. She knew that she was beaten. She reached forward with her hands . . .

  The customs officer stared intently at her personal details. Deborah Jane Simpson. Date of birth: 11 November 1967. The officer grunted at her, let her through. Geez, Debbie thought, I hope that they will be friendlier than this in Las Vegas. Viva Las Vegas, baby! She could not believe that they were actually going. Her husband, John, said that it was to celebrate twenty years of marriage. Debbie privately felt that it was a reward for putting up with him for so long.

  Debbie was lumbered with the middle seat on the plane, between her husband by the window and an older lady in the aisle. She closed her eyes and remembered the evening out a couple of weeks ago with their best friends, Peter and Linda. After a meal and a few drinks, Peter had suggested they go to a strip club. The two women had had no say in the matter.

  They found a small table in the corner of the club. A girl on stage performed an impressive acrobatic display with a pole and was met by enthusiastic applause at the finale.

  “Have a private dance, darling,” John slurred.

  Debbie looked at him, his face all red and beaming. I’ll show him, Debbie thought. She caught the attention of the next passing girl, took hold of her hand. She turned around and caught her husband’s face. His jaw dropped almost to the floor. He had no idea that she had always been turned on by girls, or that she spent many a solitary afternoon imagining what it would be like to be with one.

  She was taken to a boxroom at the back of the club. Debbie sat on a small wooden bench, pressed her shaking knees tightly together. The girl was Latino, with dark hair and eyes, which perfectly matched her olive complexion. Lean and athletic, she had curves in all the right places. The girl must only have been in her early twenties. She eyed Debbie seductively, pouted her full red lips.

  “Remember, you can look but not touch,” she purred, with a teasing smile, taking a note in her hand.

  The daydreaming was not helping Debbie to relax on the plane. She put a blanket over her lap. She looked at her husband to her right. He was engrossed in his music. She looked at the lady to her left. She stared intently at the monitor in front of her. Debbie pulled her summer dress high over her thighs and inserted a finger inside her frilly cotton panties.

  She was already soaking wet.

  Debbie closed her eyes and remembered how the girl had looked sweet and innocent, even as she removed her clothes.

  Full, pert breasts spilled out. She moved forward and flaunted her boobs just inches from Debbie’s open, eager mouth. The nipples were toffee-colored. Debbie longed to lick and suck them. She put her hands behind her back. She did not trust herself, not one bit. Debbie adjusted her position on the hard wooden seat. The slip of her panties was rubbing against her clit. She only wished that it were her finger.

  The girl shimmied her hips, dropped her own panties to the floor. She kicked them from her black stilettos. Debbie stared open-mouthed at the mesmerizing crease of her sex. She was smooth and hairless. The girl lowered herself to the floor, stretched out her legs and pressed the heels against the edge of the bench. The smile on her lips told all. She enjoyed being watched. Her legs parted slightly. Debbie stared intently down the wonderful passage between her thighs. They spread just that little bit more. Debbie was sure that she glimpsed just a trace of dampness. She knew that the girl was turned on, just like her. Debbie could resist no more. She reached forward with her hands . . .

  “Remember, you can look but not touch,” the girl said sweetly, playfully wagging her finger.

  The dance continued with Debbie in a sexual frenzy.

  At the end of the dance, the girl kissed Debbie on the lips. “Maybe next time I will let you touch, maybe just a little,” she said, teasingly.

  Debbie needed to stop off at the toilets to ease the burning between her legs before returning to her husband.

  On the plane, that burning was there again. The memory had dominated her fantasies ever since. Her fingers probed deeper, hidden by the security of the blanket. Her knees were trembling. She looked around. Nobody had any idea at all what she was doing. She knew that she was about to come. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she whispered, almost silently under her breath. Her body shook as she reached a thunderous orgasm, which instantly took full control of her body.

  It was moments before she realized that the woman next to her had turned around and was looking at her. She must have felt the shaking, Debbie reasoned. “Just a little bit of turbulence,” she explained. “It’s passed now.”

  The lady nodded her head and returned to the film that she was watching.

  The air hostesses came round with tea and coffee. When Debbie’s husband was not looking, one of them slipped her a hot towel. The woman glanced down at Debbie’s sticky, wet fingers and winked.

  She must have seen everything, Debbie realized.

  But, rather than feeling embarrassed, all Debbie could think was, This is going to be one hell of a holiday!

  Their hotel was right on the edge of the main strip. When they arrived, it was only three in the afternoon, but everywhere was buzzing. A big sign read WELCOME TO SIN CITY. This, thought Debbie, is where I belong!

  The only drawback was her husband. John had the whole holiday mapped out on paper.

  And, thought Debbie, as she sipped wine at the pre-booked restaurant following the pre-booked show, it was so very boring!

  On the first full day, they got back to their hotel room at 13.30.

  John looked at his schedule. “I’ve got down a siesta before dinner,” he said. He stripped off his shorts and jumped into bed.

  Screw that! Debbie thought. She waited until her husband was snoring (she counted thirteen seconds in total) and then slipped out.

  Debbie suspected that the old town – the original Las Vegas – just a few bus stops to the left, might be more grounded than the Strip. Even so, the contrast between the two when Debbie stepped off the bus was eye-opening. The bright red flashing lights of a strip club was a massive temptation, but Debbie resisted and instead walked into the first casino she came across.

  The floor in the casino was cover
ed by a brown, stained carpet. Cigarette smoke filled the tightly enclosed room. Scantily clad women danced on a long wooden stage right in the middle of the gamblers. Debbie felt like a kid in a candy store.

  Debbie went straight to the roulette. She laid twenty dollars on the table and waited for the croupier to hand out chips. Debbie looked up and gasped.

  The croupier was absolutely stunning.

  The name tag said TIFFANY. The girl must have been in her mid-twenties. She had piercing green eyes and straight brown hair, which flowed all the way to her chest, a chest that was barely covered by a lilac bikini. The dancers, Debbie considered, must double up as croupiers.

  The girl smiled at Debbie. “Place your bets,” she purred to the table.

  Debbie won some and lost some, but it did not seem relevant. She just loved being there, in the thick of the action. Tiffany had some meat on her, with strong thighs and a round arse, and soft full boobs, which were definitely all her own. Debbie leaned forward in her chair so that her clit pressed against the smooth edge of the table. Her body tingled with sheer excitement. The girl caught her looking, and she smiled back. This time, however, it was a discreet, personal smile.

  Debbie did not get back to the hotel room until gone five, and she was horny as hell. John was just stirring from his sleep. He had not even noticed she had gone. I’m going to use and abuse him, Debbie cruelly decided. She shook him awake and stared straight into his blurred, sleepy eyes. “Bend me over and fuck me,” she ordered.

  She imagined Tiffany lying naked on the hotel bed, hands handcuffed to the bedposts, legs spread invitingly wide and demanding, in her sweet American accent, that Debbie “lick me out”.

  Her husband must have thought that he had woken and gone to heaven. He hardened instantly and thrust his cock deep into Debbie from behind. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Debbie moaned. Her husband had no idea that, as he thrust into her, she was imagining a gorgeous young girl taking her from behind with a giant strap-on dildo. Debbie screamed as her body shuddered. Hot juices trickled down her thighs, staining the fresh linen bed sheets.