The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Stories

by Barbara Cardy

  She got her opportunity to return to the casino the very next day. John had scheduled yet another siesta before dinner. Debbie counted the seconds until he was snoring (fourteen this time) and then headed straight out.

  “Welcome back!” Tiffany exclaimed, flashing her beautiful smile.

  This time Debbie was intentionally more blatant. She hardly even attempted to hide the fact that her eyes were running all over Tiffany’s beautiful body. Tiffany smiled back, occasionally leaning forward as she cleared the chips, providing Debbie with a discreet eyeful of delicious cleavage. Debbie even glimpsed the outline of a nipple poking through the flimsy fabric of the bikini. Her thoughts raced, and her panties dampened.

  When she returned to her hotel room, she again demanded that her hen-pecked husband fuck her; fuck her hard and fuck her deep.

  The same routine continued each day. On the last day, she decided that she had nothing to lose. She was going to make a move.

  She entered the casino and her heart dropped. Tiffany was not there.

  “She doesn’t work Thursdays,” one of the dancers explained.

  Debbie left and walked towards the bus stop. Today the red flashing lights of the strip club seemed more enticing than ever.

  She did not even think about walking past.

  It was expansive inside, with a long bar and a high, square stage. Debbie suddenly felt self-conscious, afraid to make eye contact. She took hold of the first available hand and was led to the back of the club.

  “I wondered when you would find this place.” The voice was friendly and familiar.

  Debbie looked up. Tiffany gazed down at her, her brown eyes sparkling in the dimmed light.

  She didn’t have time to respond before the music started. Debbie clasped her hands behind her back. She trusted herself less than ever before.

  A leopard-skin bikini was quickly dispensed of. The breasts were even more succulent naked. The nipples were pointed, dark and upturned. Tiffany pulled the panties down her thighs and exposed a perfect outline of dark hair. She gyrated her body, shimmied her hips, pressed her body just inches from Debbie’s mouth.

  Tiffany mouthed the words that Debbie had only imagined in her most wicked daydreams. “I want you to touch me.”

  Her advances were tentative at first. Debbie was scared that she would break the rules, misunderstand the meaning of the command. Plus, her fingers were trembling. The song finished, and another started. Debbie managed to run her fingers along the inside of Tiffany’s thighs, discover for herself just how firm and smooth they really were.

  “Take a gamble,” Tiffany drawled, staring straight at Debbie. “You may win.”

  Debbie felt buoyed with renewed confidence. Her hands moved higher and cupped the round breasts. The nipples were hard. Even with the music playing, Debbie heard Tiffany release a muffled sigh. She took advantage. Her hands drifted between the thighs, continued all the way up to the crease of her sex. A finger entered inside. She was amazed by the hot sticky wetness.

  “You think you are the only one getting turned on?” Tiffany asked, as if recognizing the surprise.

  Debbie fingered in rhythm with the music. All her inhibitions disappeared. Tiffany leaned forward and rested her head on Debbie’s shoulder. “Oh God, yes,” she moaned.

  Debbie leaned her own face forward and sucked a nipple into her mouth. She circled the stiffening bud with the tip of her tongue, grazed it between her teeth. Another track started. The force of her sucking increased as the moans became louder and the fingers entered deeper and harder. Tiffany was coming. Debbie could feel her juices trickling down her wrist.

  “Oh fuck, oh yes!” Tiffany moaned, as she dug her teeth passionately into Debbie’s neck. Tiffany writhed in absolute pleasure. Her voice was breathless. “Why don’t you go for the jackpot?” Tiffany asked.

  Tiffany lay naked on the floor, with her knees raised and her legs spread. “Lick me out,” she demanded.

  Debbie teased and prodded with her tongue, running it down the outskirts of her sex. It probed inside. The long languid strokes continued until her tongue found its way between the parted buttocks. “Oh yes, in there,” Tiffany pleaded. It felt so naughty, so forbidden. Debbie circled the tip of the clit, felt Tiffany respond with a shudder. She built an expert, caressing rhythm until Tiffany exploded with pleasure, moaning and groaning in orgasm.

  Afterwards, Tiffany brushed away the note that Debbie offered her. “Let’s just say that you gambled and won big.” She smiled. “Plus,” she continued, planting a warm wet kiss on Debbie’s lips, “you were the one who gave me all the pleasure, remember?”

  It was the perfect end to the perfect holiday. John never did find out why Debbie was so sleepy in the evenings considering they slept all afternoon.

  When they returned home, John organized another night out with Peter and Linda. Once again, it ended in the strip club. Debbie was led to a private room at the back of the club.

  “Maybe this time you can touch,” the girl said with a smile.

  Read more Chris Westlake stories in Lesbian Erotica Volumes 5, 6, 7, 8 and 10 and in Erotica Volume 11

  PAINT IT RED

  Kannan Feng

  “You should let me do your make-up.”

  Harley would have said no, but then Abigail had reached out her slender, elegant hand and laid it against the line of Harley’s jaw. Abigail’s eyes were blue, bright and pleading, and Harley probably would have said yes right then, but then Abigail’s hand had slipped down Harley’s chest, skimming over her breasts, to rest snugly against the other woman’s inner thigh.

  “Please?”

  Harley melted like butter, and that was how she found herself seated on the couch while Abigail pulled out a large plastic carry case that was full of mysterious tubes, powders and brushes.

  “I never learned to do any of this stuff,” Harley growled, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  “You’re not going to learn anything today,” Abigail said with a smile. “Today, you’re just going to let me play.”

  Harley started to respond, but then Abigail came to straddle her hips. Through Abigail’s thin skirt and her own jeans, she could feel the heat from the slighter woman’s lean thighs. Abigail might look like a delicate Victorian maiden, with her heart-shaped face and her messy twist of auburn hair, but there was real strength in those legs and Harley looked up with a grin.

  “You always need to be in someone’s lap before you do their make-up?” she asked with a smirk, and Abigail’s only response was a sly smile.

  Harley reached up to palm the back of Abigail’s neck and pull her down for a kiss, but then Abigail was searching in the carry case.

  As Abigail got to work with her brushes and powders, Harley examined her lover. Abigail had lovely clear skin and a wide mouth that was made for kissing. At the moment, her eyes were narrowed with concentration, which made her look more serious than she really was, and Harley got the urge to kiss her all over again.

  When Abigail showed her her face in the mirror, Harley examined the smooth-looking stranger in the glass for a moment, and then pushed it away. She could never be bothered with make-up, no matter how much she liked the person who was applying it, but Abigail had given her an idea.

  With one hand keeping Abigail on her lap, she reached into the box beside them, rummaging until she came up with a tube of lipstick.

  “I never see you wear this one,” she said, and Abigail shrugged.

  “It’s too bright,” she explained, and then she yelped when Harley reached up to take her by the hair.

  “You mean it makes you look like a whore,” Harley said with a smirk, and suddenly she had Abigail’s full attention. With her eyes wide, Abigail looked vulnerable and sweet, but Harley knew that some part of her lover was already warming to the crude words and the promise in them.

  “Maybe that’s appropriate, huh?” Harley asked, her voice low and menacing. “After all, look at where you are.”

  Harley pun
ctuated her words with a thrust of her hips, making Abigail’s breath draw in in surprise.

  “Look at you, sitting up on my hips like a hooker after a tip,” Harley said gleefully. “Whores ought to look the part, don’t you think?”

  Abigail started to say something, and then she yelped when Harley’s left hand came up to hold her tightly around the jaw, keeping her face still. Harley’s right hand flipped the lid off the red lipstick and brought it up to Abigail’s full lips.

  Abigail tried to pull back, but Harley shook her face, and looked directly in her eyes.

  “Don’t make me get rough with you, bitch,” she snarled and Abigail went still as a post. There was a bright blush on her cheeks, and Harley knew that she could ask for anything from Abigail right then and probably get it.

  Harley didn’t bother to hide her smirk, and brought the lipstick up to Abigail’s mouth again. She pressed it hard against the other woman’s lips, smudging it, and then outlined her mouth in bright, bold red.

  “That’s slutty,” she said when she was done, and Abigail’s cheeks went red with embarrassment. Her hand went up to wipe it off, but Harley stopped her. “You can wipe it off when I’m done,” she said. “Take off your clothes.”

  Abigail started to climb off Harley’s lap, and Harley gave her a hard spank on her thigh.

  “Today, Abby. Don’t make me fucking wait.”

  Abigail nearly tumbled off Harley’s lap and, in a few seconds, her skirt and panties were off and her sweater and her bra were on the floor. Naked, her skin was pale and freckled and Harley took a moment to admire her long legs, the slight curve of her belly and the clean-shaved cunt underneath.

  Harley reached up with both hands to squeeze Abigail’s breasts, handling them roughly and pinching them with her fingers. Abigail kept her hands behind her back, arching and moaning as Harley pinched her nipples into hard points.

  Now they could both smell Abigail’s arousal, and Harley grinned, giving Abigail’s soft stomach a long, loving lick.

  “You are such a slut,” she jeered. “You’re already wet for it. Get on your back.”

  Abigail dropped to the floor and got on her back. She kept her hands at the back of her neck the way that Harley liked, and she made a plaintive sound when Harley shoved her legs open and knelt between them.

  “You’re a gorgeous fucking slut, you know that?” Harley murmured, and Abigail groaned in agreement.

  “Why don’t we make sure that everyone knows what a slut you are, huh?”

  Before Abigail had time to ask her what she meant, Harley had the red lipstick in her hand again. She circled the tip over first one nipple, then the other, stopping to admire the way the bold red contrasted with Abigail’s pale skin, and then she used her knees to spread Abigail’s legs even wider.

  “No,” Abigail said, her voice soft and fearful. It wasn’t their safe word, not even close to it, so Harley laughed and gave her a brisk smack on her inner thigh. It left a pink handprint there and made Abigail’s hips buck.

  “Yeah, sluts ought to use plenty of lipstick, Abigail.”

  She brought the tip of the lipstick to Abigail’s slit. With her legs so spread, the folds had opened slightly, showing off the slick, pink flesh between. She used the lipstick to trace the edge of Abigail’s folds with bright red paint, making the other woman groan.

  She started to put the lipstick down, but then she had another thought, one that made her smile even wider. “On all fours, put your ass in the air.”

  Abigail complied easily enough, but when she felt Harley pull her cheeks apart, she yelped and lurched away.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Harley said and she gave Abigail another hard spank to her round ass. The jiggle of the flesh was pretty enough that she did it again, and then again, and by that time Abigail was groaning and Harley thought she might be ready.

  She pulled Abigail’s cheeks apart, revealing the tight pucker of her ass. Without a moment of hesitation, she brought the tip of the lipstick there, coloring the entire area the same bright red as Abigail’s nipples and cunt.

  When she finished, Harley sat back on her heels to admire her handiwork.

  “Look at you,” she said softly and, even in the middle of their play, she couldn’t keep a note of admiration out of her voice. “Just look at you.”

  Harley ran an appreciative, possessive hand down Abigail’s side, listening to the other woman’s ragged breathing. She could see the tell-tale wetness that was beginning to drip down Abigail’s thigh and she knew that her lover needed more, but she wasn’t quite done yet.

  “Still not there yet, though,” she mused and she reached into the make-up box again. She pawed through it until she found something that looked like a pencil and, when she drew the tip across her arm, it left a satisfactory black line.

  “Here we go,” she murmured, and she put the point to Abigail’s right buttock. “This,” she said, printing in large block letters, “says ‘whore’.” She moved to Abigail’s other buttock, pressing just as hard and writing slowly. “This one says ‘slut’.”

  Abigail made a choked moaning sound and pushed her hips back blindly. “Please,” she groaned. “Please, Harley, please?”

  She had finally asked and Harley laughed with pleasure.

  “Anything you say,” she said, and she popped two fingers into her mouth, coating them with saliva.

  She pushed her two dampened fingers deep into Abigail’s pussy, and, for a moment, Abigail went stiff as a board. Harley was just beginning to wonder if she had hurt her lover, but then the other woman wailed, her body seeming to unravel with pleasure.

  Abigail sank down to her elbows, which had the effect of pushing her rear even further in the air. The motion, submissive and alluring, made Harley’s breath catch and she rewarded Abigail with another finger pushed deep inside.

  “You’re so tight,” she growled, planting a light bite where she had written the word “whore”. “No one’s been fucking you often enough, little one?”

  Abigail’s groan was deep and heartfelt and she pushed her hips back toward Harley. Harley twisted her fingers inside Abigail’s cunt, relishing how easily her fingers could move.

  “That’s right, that’s right, baby,” Harley crooned. “Tell me what you like.”

  “I . . . I like being fucked,” Abigail cried brokenly. “I want to be fucked, I want to be your whore, please, please don’t stop.”

  Harley was tempted to do just that, to stop and make Abigail beg, but then suddenly it was too much. It was too much to see her slick fingers sliding in and out of Abigail’s cunt, too much to see the stark words on her lover’s ass, to see that red lipstick coloring her hole, too much, and Harley drew her fingers out so quickly that Abigail yowled.

  “On your back,” Harley snapped.

  She didn’t have to tell Abigail to hurry this time. Abigail scrambled to get into position, but Harley wasn’t watching her because she was too busy tearing off her own clothes. Her clothing had never felt so bulky or so cumbersome, but then she was free of them.

  Harley knelt with her knees to either side of Abigail’s head and stretched her torso over Abigail’s prone body. She could feel the points of Abigail’s small breasts on her belly, could feel her own larger breasts push against Abigail’s soft flesh.

  For a moment, she pleased herself by simply looking at Abigail’s cunt, the twin lines of red perfectly delineating her slit, the way her folds parted a little just from arousal.

  Abigail’s hands reached up to cup Harley’s ass, and there was a moment when it was difficult to say who was in charge, whether it was the woman with obscene words written on her flesh or the one above her, who closed her eyes and groaned with pleasure.

  Abigail brought Harley’s cunt down to her mouth and, after a few sweet, tender licks, Harley found the presence of mind to return the favor. Her tongue circled the apex of Abigail’s cunt before sliding further to her clit. Harley flicked Abigail’s clit with the tip of her tongue several times
before settling down into long slow laps that made the other woman’s hips twist underneath her hands.

  Harley’s hands tightened on Abigail’s hips when the other woman started to lick her in earnest, swiping her tongue shallowly over the length of Harley’s cunt before lapping at her clit. Harley rocked over Abigail’s face with pleasure, thinking of how wet Abigail’s mouth and cheeks must be.

  Suddenly, Harley felt a sly finger slide between the cheeks of her buttocks and she growled, pinching Abigail’s thigh gently in response.

  “Watch where you’re putting that,” she snapped, but Abigail only laughed. The sound sent shudders through Harley’s entire body and then she felt the tip of Abigail’s fingers at the entrance of her cunt.

  Harley tried to distract her with a renewed effort on Abigail’s slit, but the other woman was persistent. She shifted so that she could push one gentle finger into Harley’s cunt, and then she began licking again.

  “Oh, oh fuck, Abigail!”

  Harley forgot all about licking Abigail into submission. Instead, she rested her forehead on Abigail’s thigh and moaned at Abigail’s skillful tongue and skillful fingers.

  “More, yes?” Abigail murmured, her lips just an inch from Harley’s cunt, and Harley could only nod, biting her lips against the sounds that wanted to come out.

  Abigail slid another finger inside her, while her tongue continued to lap, and that was just too much.

  Harley sank her hips down on Abigail’s face and then she was riding it, grinding herself against the other woman’s tongue, finding even the brush of Abigail’s teeth excruciatingly pleasurable.

  She was saying please, she was saying now, and then her orgasm hit with the force of a fireball, sending waves of intense pleasure up her spine. She dug her fingers hard into Abigail’s thighs, stiffening her body and throwing her head back. Harley held onto the shattering sensations as long as she could, shaking over and over again until she had to collapse on her lover’s body, shivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm.