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December 10, 2006

Lesbian Bitch

She always wore a black leather jacket, tight pants, and a hard ass expression on her face that could make a seasoned war veteran cringe. She was one of those bull dyke lesbian chicks, complete with short cropped hair, a nose and brow piercing, a thin metal chain dangling about her wide goddess hips, and an attitude towards men that screamed, “Don’t even think about it, bitch.” She was completely hands off to anyone with a penis. But I didn’t care. I lusted after her something fierce, all the same.

I’d try to hide my unrelenting desire to ravish her naked body in plain site by flirting with her like I would everything that walked on two legs. Which basically meant I’d push things as far as I could get away with… then I’d push just a tiny bit more.

Don’t get me wrong, I always believed her when she said she was exclusive to pussy… I’d seen her kiss and grope other girls with a genuine passion too many times not to. She just didn’t seem to mind my outrageous and superficial advances.

“What are you doing?” she mocked, almost indicating a shock response as my dexterous hands quickly wrapped themselves around her plump breasts.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I seem to have lost my boobs, and I noticed yours look very familiar. They’re just so beautiful I had to make sure they weren’t mine.”

“Uh… I’m pretty fucking sure…”

“Shh… I’m concentrating,” I whispered, eyes closed, while my thumb and index fingers searched for her nipples – which became much easier when they decided to peak through her shirt, nice and erect.

“Oh, no… these aren’t mine. When your erect nipples come to attention they’re far more pretty then mine. Sorry for the mix up.” I smiled sweet, pulled my hands away, and patted her on the butt.

“Thank you?” she said, with one poignantly thin eye-brow raised.

“Any time,” I said, before I winked at her, and continued to talk about whatever non-sense was on my mind at the time.

They really were beautiful breasts. I can’t think of a more delicious pair of big juggies then the busty fun bags on my hardcore bull dyke. Especially when she wore low-cut white under-shirts, without a bra, that let her bosom practically fall out. Her’s were breasts worth fantasizing about – worthy of lazy afternoons filled with lotion covered hands and an active erotic imagination. But then, the forbidden fruit always does seem tastier then what’s in the picnic basket, eh?

(click to read the entire story on the Erotophoria blog…)

November 25, 2006

Two Women

[full story is 2,015 words]

It started when I was in junior high school.

One day, as I was sitting in the back of the classroom during study hall, I began to daydream about one of the older boys in the school. Unconsciously, my hand drifted under my skirt, and my fingers were lightly rubbing the edge of the elastic of my panties.

Vickie’s voice, from the seat behind me, was startling when she whispered, “Oh, Barb, isn’t that lovely.”

“Shut up! Someone might hear you!”

“Don’t worry, No one is paying any attention.” Then Vickie’s hand was suddenly under my skirt, feeling the location of my fingers. She squeezed my hand, and her hand drifted slowly, gently upward. “Where is it?”

Her fingers generated marvelous feelings as they caressed my pubic mound. But, all too soon, the bell rang and it was time to leave. Confused, I tried to avoid her as we left school, but she caught up to me and walked beside me.

“I can make it feel really good,” she said in a hoarse voice, as we walked side by side. Frankly, my knees were weak, and my mind whirled with plans for letting her prove her ability.

Although I hadn’t paid much attention to her before, I began to treat Vickie as a best friend.

Just a few days later, we were playing after school in her back yard. Her house was the same as the others in the neighborhood, but her back yard was very deep–it actually extended the length of two or more of the ordinary back yards. And, there was a grove of about a half dozen pine trees, that surrounded a cool, dark glade. In that glade, I felt completely isolated from the rest of the world.

We were doing something–I can’t recall what–then I felt her presence behind me, and her warm breath in my ear, as she whispered, “I’d like to make you feel good.”

Her arms went around my waist, and she kissed me, or licked me–I don’t know–on the nape of my neck. It would sound icky to a young girl, but it felt–well it felt nice. Very nice.

How hot she seemed as her lips caressed my neck–and how natural it seemed as she pulled my arms upward, and lifted my shirt off in a fluid motion. Her hand rubbed the surface of my ‘teen’ bra, and focused pressure on my right nipple. My breasts were still conical, just developing, but her rubbing showed me for the first time just how sensitive my nipples could be.

(click to read entire story…)

September 19, 2006

All Alone

[full story is 1,719 words]

That particular night I planned to just sit back and relax. I had a bottle of wine and it was warm enough I could have left all my clothes off if I wished. I ended up in an old t-shirt. I might as well have been naked though, because when I sat down in my easy chair and lay one leg over the arm, my shirt pulled up almost to my waist, exposing everything it should have covered. Little did I expect that by the end of the night the shirt would not be all I would take off.

My older brother Luke has always been close to me and we share with each other those things of our own we think the other needs or would enjoy. Sometimes it’s eerie the way we know what is on the other’s mind. He must have known I was going to be alone that night because he had dropped off a VHS tape with a note to call him in the morning to let him know my reaction.

I had enjoyed x-rated movies before, some with Luke. The first time he brought one over, I couldn’t believe my eyes. By the time we finished watching the movie my mouth was so dry I could hardly swallow, but my [tag]pussy[/tag] was so wet I’m sure my dress was damp where it had fallen between my legs. I’m also sure Luke knew what I had on my mind. He brought over others for me after that and I always looked forward to each new movie. I loved to watch the guys fucking and licking the girls in the films and I especially liked to pretend it was on my stomach or on my tits their semen spilled. I dreamed of rubbing it into my skin, my pubic hair, my pussy lips and then sucking my fingers until their wetness was licked away. But I hadn’t watched one in months. So I especially looked forward to an evening of fantasy as I took Luke’s movie out of it’s container and slipped it into the recorder.

The film I put in the player that night, however, was not what I anticipated. This one did not have guys. It was only about girls. (click to read entire story…)

September 3, 2006

First Lesbian Orgasm

story categories: first-timers,lesbians,sex stories
[full story is 4.085 words]

It had been a fairly interesting evening. Although I don’t much go for bars of any description, I do like to play pool, and on Wednesday night we had the pool tournament down at the Other Place (silly name for a gay bar, but I’ve seen worse).

For the past several weeks, I had won easily, although there was much amazement at my technique… I came an hour early, bought a pitcher of beer, listened to music and drank. Then, just before the tournament, I bought another pitcher, played two practice games, and then I was ready. Every week, the other entrants all looked for me to be an easy mark with that much alcohol inside me. And every week the alcohol loosened up my hyper-analytical personality, letting me relax, keeping me from doing mechanics calculations prior to each shot, and let me sink any shot I called out to the amused and amazed on-lookers. This week was the same, and I was in the final best-of-three games in the last round, playing against the final challenger to see who would get the prize.

She’d introduced herself as we met over the table, saying her name was Kim. She was an attractive woman, maybe an inch under six feet unshod, just a bit over in the ropers she was wearing. She had golden blonde hair, eyes so green that tawdry words like “emerald” couldn’t do them justice, a beautiful, smart-ass grin, and what seemed to be a very well-made body in those tight Wrangler jeans. I did all the cataloguing somewhere in the back of my head, as I watched her racking the balls on the velvet; she grinned as she took the rack away, twirling it between her fingers as it cleared the tops of the balls. (click to read entire story…)

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