Lesbian Aesthetics Novels & Stories

Jennifer, trying to hide her arousal, said, "So lesbian talk is as blunt as hetero talk." "So it seems," Lara nodded, as she grabbed Jennifer's ankle and began to put the stocking on.. "I thought lesbians could try taking a girl's clothes off?"

"Don't you see that the woman's angry expression is ugly, maybe it will increase the number of wrinkles on her skin." Keitha at that time also understood Laetus' intentions, beauty is something very obsessive for women and Laetus also succeeded in carrying out her intentions, it is true that she should not provoke the man, because maybe later she will be told back by him to the point of humiliation as was the case earlier.

"Listen to me, Kelsey. Girls like you and your little roommate circle aren't feminists. You're literally the reason feminism has to exist. You're just a couple of wannabe, hyper-visual Barbies who spend three hours on your hair just to go to a lecture, and you'd do absolutely anything to get a varsity athlete into your pants. This group is for women who actually do the work, not girls who want an I*******m photo-op. Move along." ​The words hit me like a physical slap. My breath caught in my throat. It wasn't just a petty comment about my room volume anymore—she was looking at my entire identity, the way I dressed, my love for aesthetics, and deciding it meant my mind was completely vacant. A

"Fuck me, Toby. Make me yours. I want your cock inside me. I want it so bad..." She was a lesbian with a fetish. Not, as you may have guessed, a fetish for cock, or for men, or even for not being a lesbian. Nope - Beth knew exactly who she was. She knew what she wanted, and she knew that it wasn't men. Beth liked pussy, exclusively, and (just for fun) I had decided not to mess with that. Instead, I gave her my fetish. Beth, just like me (and just like everyone else I turned, to be fair), had a pregnancy fetish.

She had always been taught that the human body was sinful and that homosexuality was an abomination, but now she was beginning to see the sensual elegance in the feminine form. The beauty of their faces, the softness of their skin, the youthful maturity of their developed bodies. Regular porn was about highlighting the anatomic link between men and women and the way in which nature had designed their bodies to come together. To Helena, the joining of these two women seemed to reinforce the individuals, the two of them reflecting each other and giving separate views like butterflies on a mirror.

“Under those corporate parameters, are there specific stylistic vectors your tongue wants my hand to steer his choices toward?” I seized the tactical opening instantly. “Yes. Absolute confirmation. Nothing that translates to a low-tier mate trap. Zero threads that imply a brainless bimbo aesthetic. My image requires an architecture that registers as highly intelligent, yet entirely sharp. Dominant. Historic. Symmetrical cleavage represents a viable asset, but nothing that evokes the visual data of a primitive breeding den pin-up.” “The metrics are logged. My hands will manipulate what we can behind the veil.”

She showed me and it did not differ much from the first one I saw. “If I am going to take you to meet my friends you need to at least look sophisticated. The clothes won't take away from your weight but at least you won't look like a lesbian hooker.” I was shocked she knew what a lesbian was. She huffed. “This life doesn't want to see me happy Brandy, first Ruth with that bastard child then you.” Her head shook. “I ordered this one too. It’s okay if you don’t want to look at them, I have great choice, soon this room will look better.” She continued swiping, not showing me anymore.

I couldn't stop the old flames of lust from rekindling in my mind because, let us face it, Nadia's beauty was like a siren, loud and capable of seducing anyone. But she was a lesbian, not even bisexual. She wasn't interested in me, and she had been pretending the whole time. Thinking about the times we had sex made me feel dirty, as if I had been having her without her consent. Her moans were fake and my ego was bruised. Her dark brown hair hung loose, brushing her waist, and her hazel eyes held mine. "Come on, Leo," she chuckled seductively, tracing my chest with her manicured finger. “Stop rejecting me. We can work things out."

Hopefully she actually wasa lesbian and then I could relax, safe in the knowledge that my sex appeal was unquestioned. “I’m not a lesbian and I can resist you, trust me. You really aren’t my type,” she stated, looking me over in a disinterested manner. “Not your type? What the hell does that mean? What’s wrong with me?” I asked, genuinely wanting to hear what she’d say. “I don’t go for cocky, overconfident guys that care more about how they look than whether they have anything interesting to say. Players just don’t do it for me.” She shrugged taking a drink of her water, her amused eyes not leaving mine.

“I just had the best lesbian sex of my life.” My mouth fell open. “Wait…what? Are you gay?” “I’m bi, babe. What’s there not to love about women?” She leaned back, counting on her fingers. “The ass? Soft, round, perfect to grab. The boobs? God, the way they bounce when she’s riding your face. The pussy? tastes like fucking heaven. But back to what I was saying…you should see the way this girl fucked my brains out.” She launched into it, voice dropping low and filthy.