Lesbian Short Stories To Read Novels & Stories

“These fine gentlemen paid good money to watch my husband ruin my little sister’s holes. You’re going to give them a show. You’re going to come so many times you piss yourself. You’re going to beg to be bred like the family breeding sow you are.” She flicked a switch. The projector lit up with the chat: Breed that fat-titted bitch raw Make her tits bounce harder Knot her cunt, man $50 if you make her cry Liam stood at the edge of the mattress stroking his cock, eyes black with lust. Rita grabbed a bottle of lube and poured it straight over Nina’s tits, watching it pool in her cleavage before rubbing it in squeezing, slapping, twisting those heavy globes until they were shiny and red, nipples

This is a lesbian story of soaked panties, and pussy on pussy. ************ This happened a few weeks ago. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. It’s been playing in my head, over and over, like my body needs to remember every second. I had to write it down. I had to let it live somewhere outside of me.

Every nerve was lit. “Touch yourself,” Sasha gasped, her eyes opening to stare down at Abegail. “While he fucks you, rub that little clit. Make yourself come for us.” Abegail’s hand, trembling, moved between her own legs. She found her swollen clit, slick and throbbing. Her fingers circled it, the pressure exquisite against the deep pounding of Leo’s cock. The sensations merged—the internal stretch, the external friction. Her moans became constant, a low, desperate hum.

Even when I told her about David and the hotel room and the way he'd smiled at me afterward like nothing had happened. She had simply asked: What did you learn about what you'll accept? I learned that I'd rather set my hair on fire than let another man make me feel small. Now her son was walking ahead of me down the hall with his back exposed, every muscle visible under that damp skin, and my thong was already soaked through because apparently my pussy had different standards than my brain. My therapist's voice was somewhere in my head saying Maren, we should explore why you're attracted to situations that feel dangerous.

Clara, one of the few maids I’d grown somewhat close to, was looking at me with concern. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately,” she said, tilting her head. “And those dark circles under your eyes… Are you sleeping at all?” “Yeah, just tired,” I mumbled, forcing a weak smile and looking away. How could I possibly explain that I was up half the night touching myself while listening to Lord Blackwood fuck other women? That I wished with every fiber of my being that it was my pussy he was pounding instead? “Not used to the work here yet?” she asked gently.

Mela said then they laugh, Brittany throws her a pillow. "Of course what can I say I'm beautiful and seductive who can resist my charm right?" she role her eyes, then they laugh again. "I heard Shun Yu is hot!!" Mela giggle then she smirks, and admit shun yu is hot, "a hot lesbian.." she groans. "Yeah yeah even say that she's a lesbian right? the face the body and all oh god" her friend groan like she's imagining something, then she throws a pillow on her again.

She was looking over my shoulder at the same wall and reading some of them softly under her breath. “Hmmm, look at this one,” I said. “This person seems to have described our date last week in perfect detail.” It was a story about a woman who liked to be spanked and punished. “I like this one,” Carrie said, pointing to another. “I really think we should try and work this one into our next date.” The story was about a couple who arranged to act like strangers and meet up at a trashy bar and pick each other up. There were long descriptions about them fucking in the back of the bar as the guys playing pool watched and stroked their cues.

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.”

My pussy and ass were throbbing and leaking, but I felt happier than I had in years. “But Jamie…” Lena said quietly, kissing my forehead, “this can’t be a one-time thing. I’m going to keep fucking you. Even if it means sneaking around behind my sister’s back.” I looked up at her, heart racing. “I don’t want it to be one time either,” I admitted. Lena smiled wickedly and slid her hand between my legs again, gently rubbing my oversensitive clit. “Good. Because I’m far from finished with you tonight…”

Emily might be on to another woman crush by next week, who knows? Jane brushed a strand of hair from Lucy's face, which never failed to make Lucy blushed. They smiled at each other again. "Sorry we're late!" Emily burst out into the room. Heather had a load of books in her arms. "What do you have with you?" Jane asked. "And please don't tell me it's one of the lesbian pulp fictions again." "But Odd Girl Out was so good!" Emily protested. Lately, the former president of Loser Club had been digging into the genre a bit too deep.