“Are you ready?” asked Morgan.
“I am so-o-o-o ready,” Bianca said as she hopped in the car. “Come on, let’s go!”
The girls laughed as the sports car roared away from the curb and then minutes later, the car was out on the interstate and racing south. Ten hours later found the two college girls pulling into a truck stop. “I’m beat,” said Morgan.
“I know what you mean,” her friend agreed. “I thought we’d be a lot farther along than we are now.”
“Well, that pile-up on the interstate didn’t help any but I know what you mean. Should we get a place to stay or what?”
“I think we better,” Bianca said. “But first we need to find a place to eat.”
The diner they found was open late and the girls had just finished off their dinner and Bianca was eyeing the dessert menu. “You better watch your figure,” Morgan laughed.
“I do watch my figure,” Bianca said defensively, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little dessert every now and then. Besides, I haven’t heard any of the boys complain about my figure.” Read the rest of this entry »
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On a cool August weekend, I was sitting inside my apartment looking at TV, just bored out of my mind. I shared an apartment with Lauren Hewitt, my best female friend. To think Lauren and I had not gotten along at all and now we were sharing an apartment together. But lately, I had become so turned on by her. Lauren stood five feet eight inches tall, long brown hair, blue-gray eyes, and, of course, 36-D tits to die for. I wanted to tweak them and lick them, and suck that pussy of hers. I’d never seen it before, but I could only imagine what it looked like. And I wasn’t too bad looking myself. I stood five feet six inches in height, with long, curly auburn hair, and brown eyes. My 36-C cup breasts weren’t too big, or too small, but for some reason, I did envy Lauren’s breasts.
So here I was, sitting at home, bored as hell, and horny too. I decided I had to masturbate, since I hadn’t gotten any for a long time, at least not since I’d been raped by my father. My mother helped him rape me. For some reason, though, I was able to sustain a normally functioning life. Maybe it was because I’d blocked out the pain of it all. So I did what I felt I had to do. I went into my bedroom, and closed the door. Then I removed the top to my pajamas. It was skimpy, and perfectly contoured my body. My pink nipples were protruding, and I had to touch them. I slowly ran my hand around my breast, and finally, I grabbed it and gently began to massage it, while tweaking my nipples. Flashes of Lauren’s hands and mouth on my breasts flooded my mind as I continued to knead my breast and tweak my nipple. I could feel my pussy getting wet, and my clit getting erect. I slowly moved my hands down my sides, to my hips, and pulled my pajama pants down, exposing my underwear. I spread my legs, and slowly moved my hands from my smooth stomach down to my aching pussy. Again, flashes of Lauren were inside my head as I traced my clit, and my slit, with one finger. Just that one movement got me so hot and wet I had to fuck myself or I would burst. So I let my fingers pull my underwear to the side and rub my swollen clit. My legs began to shake as I gave myself this stimulation. So I lay down on the floor, and continued my sexual self-stimulation.
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“I’ve never had an orgasm.” Kate suddenly blurted.
My head came up quickly, thinking it was some sort of joke. My gorgeous dark-headed friend just stared back at me with wide, brown eyes. Ridiculous.
She was the most sensual, uninhibited young woman I knew. Every move she made was filled with sexuality, every glance was flirtatious, every piece of clothing she wore was exotic and sexy. Especially now.
Kate and I were on vacation on the coast far from our hometown, and she seemed to come alive beneath the touch of the sea breeze; her necklines had plunged lower to expose more of her breasts, her skirts had climbed upward to show off more of her large, long, curvy legs, and she flirted with every man she passed unabashedly. I think the anonymity of it all pleased her.
My mind slipped back to the day before, when she had asked me to give her a back rub as we watched a movie in our hotel room. I had always been very good at massage, and was frequently commissioned at sleepovers to give massages to everyone present until my fingers ached, so I thought nothing of it. I grabbed my massage oil, put it in the microwave for ten seconds, and asked her to lie on her stomach. Straddling her, I pushed her waist-length, straight, dark hair to one side and pulled up her shirt briskly. She shivered at my first touch, and I frowned thoughtfully, wondering at her reaction. I put my usual vigor into the rub, and she moaned, occasionally arching her back sinuously, and her flawless skin shined blue beneath the flickering, ethereal light of the TV. I realized she had long ago stopped watching the movie, and her breath had become ragged, her moans more helpless. No, Kate was too sensual to have never possessed an orgasm.
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Andrea finally got her way. She knew shy, lithe Lizzie was waiting for her at home. She’d wanted for months to give Lizzie the pleasure she had never known from any man; wanted to share how she felt.
Andrea had started the day by leaving for work with her roommate left at home. It was a Saturday, and Lizzie had a government job, so no weekends for her. After a long and arduous day at a desk, Andrea was able to leave. She hated the paper pushing, would much rather have pursued her artistic talents. However, all frittering thoughts aside, she had something to look forward to. She was ready to go home and really show Lizzie how she felt.
Following a brief, hearty dinner of salmon steak and white wine from the fancy store in town, Andrea escorted Lizzie upstairs, undressed her slowly and tortuously, Lizzie’s breath coming in small excited gasps.
Andrea pushed Lizzie back on the bed and stroked her hand down over Lizzie’s right breast. It was just slightly round, soft as silk and just as ivory. She felt the girl sigh beneath her hand as she rolled the nipple with two fingers. Bringing her mouth downward, she touched her lips to Lizzie’s. The kiss was slow, too slow. Her tongue flicked outward and touched Lizzie’s bottom lip, then massaged its way into her mouth. A mewl later, and Andrea was in, stroking her tongue over Lizzie’s. Andrea replied in kind and continued with her hands as she pulled away. From Lizzie’s breast, she brought her hand downward, lightly caressing yielding, shivering flesh until she reached the juncture of Lizzie’s thighs, and then past it to her knees.
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Do you know what it’s like to be a bisexual girl who has a boyfriend who you love to death…but you also are in love with your best GIRL friend? It’s hard - to be in bed with your boyfriend, and then hang out with your best friend all in a span of a few hours. You want them both, but it wouldn’t be fair. You love them both, but it’s just not right. Even if it isn’t right… there’s no problem with being wrong.
It had to be around three in the morning when my boyfriend, Blake, and I had gotten home from a party. We both had the buzz of alcohol running in our systems and we were just running out of the adrenaline of being at a party, which led to the one thing that was keeping us awake and from crashing onto the couch or the bed of our apartment.
Hormones.
With an innocent giggle of still being slightly dopey from the alcohol, I had tugged on the collar of his dark green polo, pulling him against me the second I heard the click of the door echo in the air. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, which normally was a turn off, but when I was just as buzzed, I looked past it and pressed my lips to his in a hard, long kiss. A kiss that said ‘take me here and now.’ His lips curled in a grin underneath mine and it provoked me to giggle again and bite his lower lip, pulling on it in a bite of desire. Fucking hormones, man.
His hands were crawling down my back and before I knew it, he gripped my ass in a firm, possessive grasp, as if to remind me that I was his - and I had no problem with being his. A faint squeal of playful girliness was sounded and I leaned against the door, raising a leg to curl it around his waist while a hand resting on the crook of his neck. The other trailed to slide my fingertips beneath the waistband of his boxers and jeans, tugging him against me. We continued to make out; biting and sucking on each other’s lips. He would occasionally suck on the stud that pierced my lip or flick his tongue against the metal bar that pierced my tongue, and every time he did it, I could feel myself get more and more wet between the lips of my smooth, hairless pussy.
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My name is Steph and I work behind the bar of a small hotel in the Cheshire countryside. Due to the location of the hotel, I have a bedroom there which the owners let me have free of charge. The downside being that I’m usually on call most of the day.
On this one particular evening it was particularly quiet, some of the hotel guests had come into the bar before going into the restaurant, but they were only there for 10 minutes or so. I had decided to start cleaning down the bar, taking down all the bottles from the optics and giving them a wipe, and generally rearranging the bar so that it looked clean and organized.
After about 30 minutes, I heard a noise behind me. As I turned and looked at the young woman stood at the bar, I excused myself as I quickly washed my hands, and then turned my attention to the raving beauty that was now stood in front of me.
“Good evening, my name is Steph, how can I help you this evening?”
“Hi Steph, can I have a glass of white wine, please.” She had a broad, heavy American accent. I smiled at her.
“Would you like, dry, medium dry or sweet.”
“Dry, please,” came the reply. I poured her glass of wine and handed it to her.
“Would you like anything else?” I asked.
“Maybe later,” she replied, with a smile on her face.
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Author: northodoxy Category: Lesbian
The bright sunlight woke me gently, and the room became clearer as my eyes adjusted. It was my own. The feeling of the breeze on my naked skin took my thoughts straight back to the night before, the mysterious guy and the sex we had in the pool. Unconsciously my hand fell between my legs as I remembered the scene; lying back on the edge of the pool with the sky stretching above, exposed to anyone and begging the stranger to fuck me harder and harder.
I thought back to the afternoon when I had first felt his eyes on me and how it turned me on so much. I was normally shy and quiet but I found myself rubbing my pussy right in front of him, my fingers becoming more slippery as his cock began to show through his shorts. A knock at the door shook me out of the daydream and I quickly grabbed my robe.
At the door stood the blonde-haired receptionist that had greeted me on my arrival the day before, her white uniform was short and tight around her body. Without thinking my gaze had come to rest on her cleavage. She coughed to get my attention and I felt my face flush with embarrassment.
“Sorry to disturb you. Miss Harper?” She smirked as she spoke, obviously not as embarrassed as I was.
“Ye-yeah, that’s me.”
“A message was left for you this morning, from a friend I believe.” The cute girl handed me a piece of paper and then walked away. There was just a single line written on it but as I read my body tingled with excitement. ‘I watched you last night. X.’ I read the words over and over again, amazed at how a sentence could turn me on like this. I thought about how I must have looked, how I must have sounded and lastly if the writer of the note was as wet as I was right now.
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Veronica was bagging groceries at Poole-Biscoe and was slowly becoming bored out of her skull. She had been working for six hours straight with no break and hardly any customers. It would be four more hours before the day was over and she could go home and relax. She sighed in exasperation.
“Can I get that double bagged?” a melodic voice asked. Veronica grumbled and double bagged the groceries. It was only when she handed the groceries to the customer that her mood brightened.
Veronica handed the bags to the customer. She noticed that the customer was tattooed on both of her wrists and the tattoos seemed to twist up and around her arm, hidden under the sleeves of her shirt.
“They’re all connected,” the woman said.
“Huh,” Veronica said, looking up into the customer’s face.
The woman had startling green eyes with subtle flecks of gold. She also had wild, unruly, wavy raven hair down to her waist. She noticed Veronica admiring her and waited until Veronica had taken her in to repeat herself.
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Abby banged her shin painfully on a chair in her haste to escape the conference room. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one seemed to have, so she fled the room gratefully. It was altogether too hot and stuffy in there, and the director of Tech Support was altogether too distracting.
Walking back to her office made her a little steadier on her feet. Since her recent promotion to supervisor in Accounting, Abby rated an office instead of a peon-cubicle. Not that it was any bigger than a cubicle, but it did have the benefit of some added privacy. She could goof off without worrying about people happening to look over her shoulder at her monitor to see that her “quarterly report” looked suspiciously like an astrology webpage.
Abby settled in front of her computer, still a little warm from having to sit across from Laura Taylor for an entire 2-hour meeting. “I hope I didn’t blush too obviously when she started fiddling with that pen,” she thought. “That’s the trouble with fair skin; blushing is always so noticeable. But, really, she has a very erotic way of sucking on the end of her pen. And of walking. And opening a briefcase. It’s just not fair.”
She opened up her email program and drafted an email to her friend Jonathon. “New update on the crush situation: Sat across from Laura in our weekly management meeting this morning. I think you’re wrong about getting over this the more I work with her. Today she took off her jacket and had a sleeveless top on underneath-and she’s got the most beautiful biceps! God, butch women are gorgeous. If she’s not queer, she’s at least gotta be used to women hitting on her. Wish I could risk being out at this company so I could find out. Sometimes I sit at meetings and wonder if she’d like to tie me up and fuck me. Or what it would take to make her lose all that cool control. And then I hope to hell no one can read my mind! See you soon, Jon. And you owe me an update on that guy Chris you keep talking about.”
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I can feel the sun beat down on me, causing little beads of perspiration to dot my skin as I continue to work in my garden. If there is anything I love in this world, it’s working in my garden. The feel of the earth sliding through my fingers and smell of the fresh dirt–I find it all very erotic in many ways, and maybe that’s why Joe is such an avid fan of my gardens. Roses in one corner, chrysanthemums in another. A rippling fountain in the middle. Sage and spices perfume the air. Everything flower that you can name grows wild here in my paradise. Morning glories cling to an arch that serves as a gateway to my paradise. It is truly one of the most beautiful places to be, surrounded by the orgasmic flow of nature at its best. I work in my garden each day, but this morning as I plunge my spade into the soft ground, I can feel something different on the wind.
A wind of change, I think to myself. It inspires a chuckle as does most of my thoughts. I come from a long line of healers–those that believe that the cure to all ills comes from Mother Earth. Like all the women in my family, I was brought to the conclusion early that life comes from the earth. Hence my time and my love for my garden. Joe thinks I’m crazy, but honestly, I don’t care.
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