Creamy Lesbians Novels & Stories

She's got moonglow tits that bob in night waters, perfect round globes like curled-up white rabbits with black peaks of areola and gray nipples because she's all poison and ebony eyes and milky skin. She's curled up in my closet in a nest fit for the Zu bird and sweet seraph curses and she crows and speaks the language of birds that are girls, or girls that are monsters, with scaled legs and owl wings from ancient Sumerian carvings, but she's not perched on two lions, her thin wan legs are jumping on your bed and you're throwing pillows at each other and painting her lips and talons with a pop of cherry poison. It's all fun and games until arsenic kisses and slashed throats of words fly, it'

I fúck women with fire in my veins, and I crave the ones who are deliciously out of reach or secretly off-limits. I am a lésbian, loudly, unapologetically, and with a reputation I earned the hard way. I have fúcked women who were mistakes, women who were married, women who taught me things I still think about in quiet moments, and women who ruined me just enough to make me crave the next one harder. You may consider me a slút, but I’m not. I’m just a woman who fúcking loves other women, especially the pretty ones.

Kristina adds quietly after breaking the kiss. "Eating me, or me eating you?" Lauren asks with her eyebrows raised. "Both," Kristina admits. "Does that make me a lesbian?" "Hardly! Not with Brandon's cock in your pussy!" Lauren exclaims. "Oh yeah," Kristina turns towards me and smiles, "I guess maybe bi then, huh?"

"Zoya! Zoya!" A young beautiful woman with red lipstick poked her head out of the door. "You got some Morozhenoe for the Kapitan and her friend?" the deli lady asked. "They're from a baseball team our Felik and Grigor train." Zoya smiled. "Ah! One second," she called as she ducked inside the bakery. She came back with a cold ice cream box. "Russian ice cream." Zoya smiled at us. "Creamier and richer than its American counterpart."

Cursed silently when Loral started barking out a laugh. "Oh fuck no! He has the wrong appendage for me." "She's a lesbian, Kamari. That's why she left the pack. She was an omega and I freed her..."

I twirled my tongue around her savory flesh, bringing Sammy to the point she embraced her tantric titillation. "You should have longer hair," she purred as she ran one hand through my locks. "I don't normally go for butch girls." You guys go be indignant if you wish. These were some sweet teats I was indulging in and I had zero regrets about 'girling-up' for a lesbian. Sammy finally climbed to the mountaintop of her orgasmic quest and howled out her victory.

Each of these lesbians wanted a piece of her, and if all they could get were a selfie with her, they would happily take whatever they could get. Leslie took out a cigarette, took a puff, and blew a ring of smoke into one of the girl’s faces. She laughed and said, “I am not available today. Get out of here.” The girls reluctantly left, and they crossed paths with Crystal as she came into the café- and when they saw Leslie call her over to her table, their faces turned red from bitter anger.

Narrowing his eyes, he snapped, “Don’t you think you are too presumptuous for being a hostage?” Lily turned around, revealing her delicate features. Long brown hair, jade like skin, soft petal like lips. Regan almost flinched at her appearance. Then, his gaze met her deep grey eyes. They seemed to have a life of their own, sparkling with curiosity and confidence.

Cassandra raised her hand to her cheek, gently stroking her as she stopped at a red light. Selena held her hand, pressing her mouth to the center of her palm. “I don’t think that’s possible anyway. We’re lesbians!” Cassandra laughed, “I would say bi. Know your terms and… there’s always alternatives like the sperm bank, you know?” Selena pursed her lips, feeling uncomfortable at the thought of taking a random man’s seeds and getting inseminated by that.

Always, always more. I pulled him back for another kiss, my creamy fingers in his hair. I held him close, caking his bare chest in white as I wrapped my legs up around him. Blood, cream, mess… I didn’t care, and neither did he. I wanted the cream on his skin, though. I wanted him to be as slippery and as messy as me. Luckily, the pot on the table was a big one. I wanted to be a kinky little bitch and picked up the pot from the table. I trailed fresh cream down myself, playing with the streams as I did it, smearing my tits and my pussy.