Lesbian Short Stories Novels & Stories

Short Story's Blurb: Gayle's world shatters when her mate, Alpha Miles, chooses his childhood friend, Nichole, to spend the night before their wedding. When Nichole boldly asks if Miles would make her his Luna instead of Gayle, his response cuts deep: "I would."

The idea of the final freaked her out and she was losing her confidence big time. Towards the end of the season, Nora and Stefanie had called a truce. But now we'd made the final, the truce seemed to disintegrate. I could hear them shouting from the other end of the park. "What? What did you say? Say it to my face!" Nora sneered. "It's a fact. I'm in another league," Stefanie retorted back. "Let's think - who scored more homeruns than you?" said Nora, pretending to think. "Oh! It's me! Not Stefanie 'in another league' Jenkins!"

Attached to a rope chain, it hung in the valley between Callista's large breasts. Since she had begun to explore her new sexual freedom after almost twenty years of marriage, Gabrielle had developed no small fascination with both alternate lifestyles and sexual adventures. So far, having spent the night with a man almost young enough to be her son had been the most daring of her erotic adventures. That fascination had extended to lesbianism and bisexuality, two subjects which were barely discussed the last time she was single. So far, her interests in the topics hadn't extended beyond the theoretical. Not including of course, her active imagination. An imagination that Gabrielle was sure at

“I don't know, most of them look like they like it. Do you think they are drunk or fucking high or something? “Maybe they are whores who have to do that shit.” “Most of them don’t look like whores, these are homemade videos. That means those guys are wives or girlfriends.” “Do a search for blow jobs, let's see what other women say.” I typed 'blow job' into the G****e search box and the screen filled up with endless pages of links about fellatio. Brenda and I spent the next hour reading articles from the website on how to suck a cock and make it pleasurable for both him and her. There were a lot of pictures, and we even saw some videos that were hotter than the crappy video we'd been watching

Omar looked at her face The moon was glimmered its luminous on her face while her nose pin shines through it, Her white teeth biting her bottom lip while her hair was softly flowing with breeze Omar didn't realize when he started leaning towards her, feelings his closeness to her, Hana fisted his shirt, her heart jumping in hr chest. "Hana!" When their lips was inches apart, Omar called her, to ask for permission. Hana hold onto his arm tightly, not having strength to open her eyes or nod her head. Two budding flowers in lawn faced each other as moon hide itself behind clouds to spread darkness. The End

Lauren leaned forward, kissed Vanessa deeply, tongues sliding while both women rode us. “Touch yourselves,” Lauren ordered. Vanessa reached down, rubbed her clit fast. Lauren did the same, fingers circling while she bounced on me. Jake and I locked eyes over the women’s shoulders. We were both close, faces flushed, breathing ragged. “Gonna come,” Jake groaned. “Me too,” I gasped. Lauren smiled, wicked, satisfied. “Come inside us. Fill us up.” That was it. Jake came first, burying himself deep in Vanessa’s ass with a guttural groan. Vanessa followed, shuddering, crying out, pussy flooding my mouth as she came hard.

A bunch of queens line up, with the extreme having a cluster. I tap a random queen. “Did you see my stuff? It was packaged…” “You own that wicked shit?” She rolls her eyes. “Men, I need your plug.” The other queens laugh. “I don't have time for that.” I rap. “I need it.” “Sheesh.” She hisses. “Your shit knocked my girls out in seconds.” She points to two ladies dozing off on the cold floor. “But I got something on me.” She pulls out a wrapped substance from her bra and dangles it.

Melissa’s heart pounded as she stepped into the dimly lit warehouse in Victoria Island. The underground kink party was invitation-only, and she had spent weeks working up the courage to come. At twenty-six, she was tired of boring boyfriends who fucked like they were scared to break her. She wanted more. She wanted to be used. Owned.

“You’ll want to see it. Trust me.” I flipped open the laptop, the glow from the screen spilling across both our faces. My fingers moved with deliberate slowness over the keys. She stood behind me, leaning just close enough for me to feel her breath on my neck. A few quick clicks, and the search bar blinked back at me. I typed in a phrase that made her brows lift ‘Lesbian step sisters making out’, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or intrigued.

Her breath caught, and still she moved forward. The Lair was darker than she expected. No signs. No music. Just soft murmurs, occasional gasps, and the unmistakable sound of skin meeting skin. It was an invitation-only club that most people pretended didn’t exist. The rumors said women were auctioned off for nights of sin. That submission was worshipped. That the rich and ruthless came here to indulge their darkest urges. Lana had been following the trail for months, writing fluff pieces about wine and society events just to get close to the whispers. And finally, someone had slipped her the address with a smirk and one sentence: “You’ll either leave on your knees or not at all.”