The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (36 page)

“Jeez-usss! Oh . . . oooh . . . uuuh.” Suzy was panting now, wanting but not wanting it to end.

Janet was skilled at her task, knowing precisely when the moment would come, the anticipation of it thrilling her to the core of her being. She wanted Suzy to cry out – loudly and without
the slightest reservation. If she screamed the place down it would be even more thrilling. The knowledge that it would be Janet herself who had made it happen would surely be sublimely
exhilarating. When it was over they could both collapse on the bed, laughing and happy, and lie together in a sweetly-sweaty embrace, two lovers enjoying the wake of such depleted passion.

And that was how it happened.

Suzy came with a final rigid shudder, the ecstasy of her climax such that it seemed to reverberate around the bedroom, her cries shattering the intimate silence of those few moments before.

Janet was herself panting from sheer exertion. Her face was flushed and shiny with perspiration as she quickly withdrew – just at the very moment before Suzy’s knees and legs seemed
almost to crumple beneath her.

“God . . . f-fucking hell, Jan. That was . . . pheweee . . . flaming bloody
mar-marvellous,”
Suzy managed to utter breathlessly as she flopped face down on the bed.

“Glad you enjoyed it, Suz.”

“Bloody right I enjoyed it, you rampant cow! But I’m knacker-rooed. It was . . . it was friggin’ fantastic, Jan. No other word for it!
Fantastic!”

“Well, if it hadn’t been, I’d be really, really
cross.
I mean all that
effort
and so forth,” Janet laughed, slumping down on the bed beside her.

Lying on her back she reached out and playfully ran her hand over Suzy’s bottom, delighting at its smoothly-contoured peaks. The way they sloped so steeply down into her rift was
fascinating – all the more so because it was a place that Janet knew so intimately and intrusively.

As if having read her mind, Suzy turned her head round on the pillow and grinned wickedly at her. “You’ve certainly got a fucking serpent’s tongue on you, girl!”

“Uh-ha. Not bad . . . for my first time, was it?” Janet feigned seriousness, her eyes nonchalantly roaming the ceiling and deliberately avoiding her friend’s penetrating
gaze.

“First time, indeed!” Suzy snorted derisively. “Don’t you think we could dispense with all this ’first time’ crap? It’s not that I don’t enjoy our
little ’pretend game’, Jan. Really I do! But isn’t it getting a teensy-weensy bit over the top, after all this time? I mean . . . we’ve only been
together
for the
last
six
bleeding years, you daft moo!”

“Oh, really?” Janet mocked. “Well, that’s strange. I can’t seem to remember your wings being so big and meaty before! It felt like the first time I ever had them in
my mouth . . . all
four
inches of them! If I’d had to have all
that
flesh half way down my throat every day for six years, surely I’d have bloody choked on it by now,
yeah?”

“You rude bitch!”

Then they both lay back and rocked with laughter.

A while later Janet switched off the light. Under the duvet, and still naked and warm, the two lovers kissed, their bodies cuddling up close to one another. Suzy was quickly asleep, but Janet
lay awake with a contented smile on her lips. Tomorrow was another day. Even if Suzy didn’t wish to play their silly “first-time” game, at least Janet could pretend. Besides, this
time it would be her turn to be on the receiving end.

The Escape

Helen Darvin

Amanda picked up a cushion and hurled it angrily against the wall.

What a day; what a sweaty, rushed off her feet, pandemonium of a day. It seemed that everyone in town had chosen that day to shop at the store, and to put the cap on it some of the staff had
called in sick, and those who had turned up for work were hard put to cope. Things had reached rock bottom when two of the girls, tempers frayed and worn, had erupted into a blazing argument over
some trivial matter and, while it might have amused the army of customers to watch the two red-faced assistants screaming and swearing at each other, Amanda, as the Department Supervisor, had been
burdened with the unwelcome chore of stepping in to sort it out. She’d pacified the two contestants successfully, and restored a measure of calm, but by the end of the day she’d felt
like she’d been fed through some kind of wringer. She was squeezed, she was drained.

She went over to the drinks cabinet, and made herself a large vodka and lime. She sipped at it gratefully.

No, if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t just because of the work that she was feeling low. It was because things weren’t too good in the pussy area.

Or, rather, because things were too good in the pussy area.

For the first time that day she felt a small, brief tug at the corners of her mouth. What an irony; to be down in the dumps because things were going well. Ridiculous, in fact; but that was the
way it was.

And at the bottom of it was, of course, Denise. Full breasted, curvy, luscious Denise, who gave her some of the most glorious, most unforgettable comes of her life.

It had been all right before Amanda had met her. She’d been having a good time, living a busy social life, and, as the phrase has it, getting her fair share.

Yes, certainly she’d had her share, her quim had been the recipient of more than enough attention to keep her, or anybody else, happy.

Warmed and relaxed by the vodka, she retrieved the cushion from the floor, replaced it on the sofa, and sat down, her thoughts drifting slowly back. Back to Gillian.

She’d been well-connected, had Gillian; she knew a lot of prominent people, had well-off friends.

Their first time together was when Gillian had invited her to a party held on a private beach on the south coast. It had all sounded fascinating, although Gillian had shruggingly referred to it
as “you know, just a few girls getting away from it all for a while, sort of thing.”

There’d been some people there that she’d recognized; a woman she’d seen playing a couple of supporting roles in television dramas, the lead singer of a new pop group, two
models, and a newspaper columnist. There’d been champagne and good food on the hot golden sands by the calm blue sea, and she’d enjoyed the day.

Gillian had blonde hair, and friendly green eyes. She was quite short, but her body was as sinuous and winding as a country road, it seemed to Amanda. She was a pleasing sight in her minimalist
bikini as she went off down to the water to swim a few strokes to cool off, or stretched out beside her, a bottle poised to refill their glasses.

After a day of her physical nearness and the sun bestowing its languid sensuality on her, Amanda was not sorry when, after a deep blue night had fallen, Gillian led her away to a quiet hollow
nestling among the grass-topped sand dunes. From the way that the other women had been quietly pairing off and disappearing, she’d known what the interests of the guests had turned to.

She lay down without waiting for any prompting, and Gillian knelt beside her. Her fingers neatly undid the ties of Amanda’s bikini bottom, and removed it. The cooler night air flowing in
around her slit was a treat in itself.

She heard a whisper of cloth, and knew that Gillian was removing her own skimpy outfit. She smiled to herself; the silly woman had forgotten her top. She was bound to want to get to grips with
Amanda’s tits; better do her a favour, and get them out herself.

She wasn’t mistaken. Gillian’s first move was to come down on her now nude boobs. After kissing them all over, she sucked a nipple into her mouth, and gently bent it this way and
that with her skilful, adept tongue. Amanda instinctively arched her back to push the nipple in deeper.

Gillian then enclosed the second tit in her hand. Amanda sighed her appreciation, massaging Gillian’s tanned shoulders as Gillian tongued and thumbed the nipples.

Amanda pushed her groin into her to signal what she wanted next, and Gillian understood. She pressed her hand against Amanda’s belly, then all the way down. As she approached her target,
Amanda opened her legs to welcome her.

Gillian’s hand arrived at Amanda’s yearning cunt and cupped it. Then she began a slow, rhythmic kneading, each movement creating flares and sparks deep inside Amanda’s joy
tunnel.

Amanda had a sudden urge to get to know Gillian’s fanny in her turn, and began to caress it lightly and delicately with her fingertips, running forwards and backwards along its rift.
Gillian’s breathing, already heavy, became a wind of passion at her ear.

Then Gillian brought her lips down again on Amanda’s nipples, changing quickly from one to the other, and that, together with the insistent hand roaming freely all over her quim, brought
her, almost sobbing with the incandescent pleasure of it all, to her own come time. She held on to Gillian like a life belt as she was tossed around on a turbulent ocean of delight, an ocean
whipped into a storm by Gillian’s gorgeous ministrations to that vital spot tucked between her thighs.

Their affair had been good while it lasted, but they’d drifted apart eventually. Gillian had gone off as one of a group sailing around the Mediterranean, and although they’d promised
to get together again when she returned, somehow they never did. One solitary postcard from Cyprus was all Amanda ever heard from her. After that – nothing.

Amanda topped up her vodka and lime. Oh well; easy come – she smiled at the pun; it had been easy to come with Gillian – easy go. These things happened. And there were always other
women out there, all with their own personal charms and tastes which she could sample as she wished, when she wished.

Girls like Karen. With tastes like Karen.

Karen was almost a direct opposite to Gillian. Where Gillian had been outgoing and keen on socializing, Karen was introverted and disliked large gatherings. She wrote poetry, but apart from a
few which had passed the test of acceptance and been published, she refused to show her work to Amanda. Modest and unsure of herself, Amanda thought.

Physically, too, they were opposites. Karen was taller, with long curly black hair contrasting intriguingly with her eyes of washed out blue. She looked like the poet she was, wrapped in an aura
of sensitivity.

There was one area, however, where she was very much the reverse of restrained . . .

It had begun simply enough.

They’d stayed behind at the badminton club for extra practice after the other members had left. The game over, they’d had a quick shower, and while they were drying off and chatting,
Amanda had, in a fit of playfulness, flicked her towel across Karen’s bare bum. It was only a light slap, but the look that passed over Karen’s face had been unmistakable. And it
inspired in Amanda a feeling she’d never known before.

It was one of those strange moments which occur in life when nothing needs to be said, when everything is understood as if by some form of telepathy.

Amanda rushed out to her locker, and collected the leather belt from her skirt. When she returned, Karen was already bent over, holding on to the edge of a sink to steady herself, her neat,
tight rear poised expectantly for what was to come.

Amanda raised the belt and brought it down sharply across the two delicious half-moons of Karen’s arse.

Karen squealed with delight as the belt lashed her.

Amanda applied the belt again. And again. And again. Each thrash squeezed a rapturous cry from Karen, and Amanda herself became more and more excited by the sight of that reddening bum.

Finally an especially vigorous stroke from Amanda brought Karen to a climax, and her shrieks echoing round the white tiles of the shower room testified amply just how much Amanda’s
treatment had worked her up.

Immediately, without thought, hardly knowing what she was doing, Amanda handed the belt to Karen, and replaced her at the sink, arse cocked, wondering what this new experience would be like.

She soon found out.

The belt whipped across her, bringing a stinging pain with it.

But a different sort of pain, dreamy, languorous, blossoming out from her lashed arse into her cunt and her swelling, hardening nipples.

As Karen continued to wield the belt, the warm languor grew ever more ripe, ever more engulfing, until, taking even herself by surprise, she orgasmed, a soft, lingering orgasm, which took its
time, and gave her what seemed to be an age in which to savour all its subtle shades and flavours. A come for the connoisseur of comes.

Afterwards the two of them had stood, mutually red-butted, and stared at each other, Karen the knowing, experienced expert, Amanda the initiated pupil. But how willing a pupil she was going to
be now.

And that was a good relationship also, when they met at one or other of their flats, and took their time with their pursuit. And no mere crude leather belt any more. Karen had just the thing
already; a thin and pliable but strong cane which was simply ideal for its purpose. Ideal, thought Amanda, as it thrashed the lines of sexy fire across her willing bum cheeks.

But that, too, had petered out. Karen, she knew, had met someone else, some other ripe-arsed woman, and begun to drift away, until their meetings had stopped altogether.

Again, she wasn’t too worried. All those other women were out there, with their dangling tits and their fulsome fannies. A whole world of them, laid out before her like sweets in a sweet
shop.

And that’s the way it had been. She’d be attracted to someone, they’d glut their appetites on each other for a time, then drift apart. It was all right, her cunt was contented,
so how could there be any problem?

Then she’d bumped into Denise.

She’d landed a job, the one she had now, head of one department at one branch of a large national retail organisation. A responsible position. She’d slotted into the work well, and
been a success. And she’d come across Denise.

Denise was in the transport section, helping to organize the vans which took orders out to those who preferred to have deliveries made to their homes.