Lesbian Erotic Literature Novels & Stories

"We’re not done." I smiled. "No." She reached into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of lube and a slim, curved vibrator I hadn’t known she owned. My pulse kicked up again. She warmed a little of the lube between her fingers, then slicked the toy. She settled beside me and kissed me deeply while she guided the vibrator between my legs. The soft silicone nudged my entrance, then slid inside with a smooth push. She turned it on to a low, steady pulse and angled it so the curve pressed against that sensitive place inside me.

Masculine in its restraint, yet unmistakably lived in. Elizabeth slipped off her heels at the entry, bare feet silent on the cool floor. Her eyes drifted to the art, several pieces caught her immediately. Framed photographs and paintings of women entwined: soft curves pressed together, mouths open in ecstasy, hands gripping thighs, backs arched. Lesbian erotica rendered with reverence, beautiful, unapologetic, sensual. One in particular: two women on silk sheets, one straddling the other, heads thrown back, fingers buried deep. The composition was raw yet tender.

She said, "Don't worry about it. Look all you want. It's not like I'm going to lose anything." She really didn't care. She was showing off her smooth legs right in front of me and letting me stare all I wanted. I smiled back and said, "You're really something. Those are the prettiest legs I've ever seen." And just like that, we started chatting back and forth. It turned out that her name was Lauren Ward. She had a boyfriend, but he could never satisfy her. Every time they were together, he would be done after just a few moments. The more frustrated Lauren became, the more she craved release, so she started using toys to take care of herself.

When he pressed against my back, I felt something cool and smooth against my inner thigh, the spine of a book. “Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” he said softly, voice dripping with dark amusement. “One of my favorites for nights like this.” He dragged the edge of the closed book slowly along my soaked pussy, the leather teasing my swollen clit. I whimpered, pushing back, but he held me still. “Patience,” he chided. “We’re going to use literature properly tonight.” He set the book aside and replaced it with his cock, rubbing the thick head through my folds, mixing our juices. Then he thrust in deep from behind, making the ladder shake slightly.

She smiled and ended 'I do sound it don't I? Julia rarely smiled, at least not at work, but when she did it lit up the entire room. 'A bit,' I conceded, 'seriously though. Have you ever read any erotica?' 'No. I just don't like all that foul language.' 'Eroticism is in the mind,' I argued, 'you don't need bad language to be erotic but equally the language of love, however crude, is nearly always erotic to some. Look I've just finished reading a story that I think you'll like. Why don't you read that and then decide?'

I did it again today. I visited my girlfriend at work. Reprobate writer seeks innocent Melanie for backseat naughtiness in underground parking lot. Yes, I’ve been wicked again. Spank me, Jesus. Before this gets too confusing, what with “blow jobs” in the title, let me clarify: I’m a woman, Mela- nie’s a woman—we’re a lesbian couple—but while I’m a woman with a pussy, my girlfriend’s a woman with a cock. She’s trans, hence the mention of blow jobs. So that’s one mystery solved.

She tempted him even more. She approached the pole and glued her throbbing jewel between her thighs. She didn't know, but it seemed like that part was starting to get wet while she was doing what she was doing. She held on to the pole and rubbed herself, especially the lower body on the cold pole. It's like she's having sex there. The man scooped up all the contents of the glass and placed it on the table next to him. One of his fingers was already on his lip and he was holding it while staring at what she was doing. She suddenly turned around and rubbed her legs up to both thighs.

Petrov smiled as he replied, "That's good to hear, Tim. An erotic story can be much more descriptive than a p**n scene. Most young boys can't get enough p**n and it's nice when a young man takes the time to read a good erotic story. Which websites do you prefer for your stories?" Tim gasped again as Petrov used two fingers to stimulate his asshole. Petrov wasn't aiming for penetration at the moment, he just wanted the boy aroused enough to keep talking. Finally, the boy admitted to preferring Nifty and Literotica as his go-to erotic stories websites. Petrov knew that Literotica catered to a variety of genres but smiled knowing that Nifty had no heterosexual stories at all, though Nifty did h

Disclaimer: Explicit erotica concept, raw and unfiltered desires. Triggering themes. Lesbian content. Do not go any further if you are not ready for the heat that comes with it. Rated 18+ --- Priya Walsh was dreaming again. She could feel it even inside the dream, that specific awareness that sits at the back of your mind telling you this isn't real while everything happening in front of you feels more real than anything you experienced while you were awake. Brooklyn's hands were in her hair.

She was already slurring from the intensity, thin threads of saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth and forming a small puddle on the table. The girl shuddered violently several times. A few weak waves of thin white fluid shot from the head of her little cock, spraying onto the edge of the table. She was flipped onto her back again. Her sweat-soaked white shirt hung uselessly around her waist, while most of her smooth back was covered in fine beads of sweat and the red erotic marks left by the man when he had leaned over her for fierce kisses. Her fair, supple buttocks were almost completely exposed, her tight little hole slapped red by the repeated impact of his heavy, dark balls. Be