Lesbian Experience Stories Novels & Stories

It was strange but she kept the feeling that she was only going out with her friend. Lorna stopped at a secluded table at a corner. “My favorite spot.” Karen could imagine that she brought all the ladies she had fucked to the restaurant. Martini was served. When Lorna stared at her, Karen felt she was naked or she could see through her. “Yesterday was great,” she started. Karen sipped Martini. “Yeah.” She was screaming. That was great. “I’ve been a lesbian for four years…and I’ve met quite a lot of ladies I liked.” She chuckles. Some were like you before I initiated them- proud of myself.”

It started to do weird things to my system. We walked past the Jogging Grandma, who had just returned from her daily run. "Is that your girlfriend?" she whispered to me because apparently everyone in the building knew about three lesbians from Russia living in Apartment 2B having a girlfriend, except they didn't know which one. Trust me, I didn't know which one either. "No, she's everyone else's girlfriend," I whispered back. "She only drops by every now and then to let me do her work." We found Celie bending over on the counter. Why was she leaning like that?

Listening to other patients — wealthy executives who had destroyed marriages through sex addiction, celebrities who had lost everything to escorts and orgies, normal people whose lives had spiraled out of control — made me see my own story with horrifying clarity. When it was my turn to share, I spoke for nearly forty minutes, voice trembling, about how I had started as Liam’s curious girlfriend exploring fantasies and ended up as the Gangbang Princess who threw away the love of her life for the thrill of being used by dozens of men. One older man in the group looked at me with kind but firm eyes and said,

something was catching at my mind, something familiar; something inside told me to be careful. She nibbled at the soft skin above my pussy and I quivered, feeling a throb inside me of almost orgasmic strength, and felt my wetness trickling down my bare thigh. I felt lips nibbling, a tongue stroking – and a hesitation. My thoughts leapt into focus – I knew where I had felt this before. Most lesbians and bisexual women have encountered it. The "do I like this taste?" pause, followed by the "can I really do this" hesitation.

It was clear that they had experienced something similar. They had told stories of them getting attacked in the middle of nowhere and left for dead. Others talked about how they had been stripped of everything and humiliated. If anything, Nightmare was consistent in the misery and anguish he inflicted on others. Eva looked around at them, and realized that most of them were women. She shouldn’t have been surprised at that, but she was. The both of them sat down and listened to all the speakers, and at some point Eva was asked to share her story.

She nodded, "true... we still have to work towards that and teach that to our community. We are all different and encode or accept things differently.. worse we come from different backgrounds and upbringing. So they shouldn't judge you because you slept with a man ata certain stage before coming in contact with your true self." I took the glass and sipped on the drink a bit feeling so good that dhe understood me, "exactly... God Meagan... it's so sickening to hear them talk about a lesbian woman who has kids as if they are talking about someone who sleeps around with men. They act so pure as if they never encountered one hatred from this world. They know the pressure we all face. Yet they s

What was said here stayed here unless the speaker chose otherwise. When she stepped back, the space held. Then a healer spoke. Then a hunter. Then a mother who had lost her mate during an enforcement action that had never been reviewed. Each story pulled at the seams of the old narrative. Not dramatic accusations. Lived experiences. The kind that could not be dismissed as rebellion or ambition. I listened until my chest ached. At one point, a young wolf turned toward me directly. “Are you going to fix this?” The question was not hostile. It was desperate.

I guess the pressure got to her the most, and the more Rosie danced around, the angrier Susan got, yelling at her to keep still. Harper was slowly losing her heart. I think there was more bad stuff going on for her at home, including an argument about her mom moving out. April joined the team not because she wanted to. We begged her to join, but now there was too much pressure. Too serious in a way that it was no fun anymore. And me? Well, I felt as if I was watching a horror movie where the characters were doing something stupid, and I was powerless to stop them. ~*~

Jennifer: Shrug emoji. I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As

she asks, her curiosity clear. I shake my head. “Not really. It’s something I still need to ask him about.” Callum told me part of it but I want Dante's version. “Callum knows,” she says. “I think he’s the only one who really does. Everyone here has their own story. Most of the women came from a life of abuse or sex slavery. And the guys? Usually, someone they loved got hurt or killed because of this world.” Before I can respond, the door opens, and we both turn to see Dante and Callum walk in.