Lesbian Short Story Novels & Stories

Chapter 15 (Lesbian x Threesome.) Mia’s POV I don’t even know how to start this without sounding like a complete mess. Maybe because I am. Lori and I were walking across the hallway that afternoon with our fingers intertwined as we were laughing loudly about some stupid article in that Teenage magazine she swears by even though I had no interest in them. She said they were something about pastel nails, bbls and the biggest tea about the top power lesbian couples.

A special train where women went to be molested. Now, Kristen didn't want to turn her mother and best friend into whores. They were faithful women who only had lesbian sex when away from their men. But they were both fully supportive of their men having sex with sluts. (Of course, for Kristen, this was all in the fictional universe she was writing about.) So she sits down and begins to pen the next story. Reality was not about to get in the way of writing something hot. Not on Kristen's perverse watch. * * *

Fabian Williams shouldn't have his possession stolen from him, a little voice of reason spoke from within her mind. But then Amber thought of all the hostesses at the La Fire Club. She thought of Lola who stood silently outside her cubicle. How dare those women spoke ill of the hostesses when they knew Lola was there? Lola was her friend! Did they even know that Lola worked late nights just put herself through university? Then she thought of Madam Cecil and her bitter answer about the first man who claimed her. In a way, Amber understood that Madam Cecil had no choice but to join this profession out of desperation. Each and every woman at the club had a story to tell.

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?

She felt Pam’s resistance to her being there, but attributed it to what had just happened. “Go away,” Pam wailed as she struggled to pull away from Fiana’s touch. She didn’t want to feel anyone’s touch right now, especially Fiana’s. Pam’s time spent with Darryl had raised a deep rooted confusion within her about her own sexuality; something she didn’t even know existed. She’d always attributed the fact that she was apprehensive about admitting to the world that she was a lesbian to the closed mindedness of the society she lived in. After spending those wonderful, carefree days with Darryl, she questioned if that was the real reason. Could it be more? Could it be that she, like so many othe

she said, suddenly lost for words. I leaned back and crossed my legs. “You know,” I began, trying to help her out. “It’s hard enough being a lesbian, even though I know there were times when it certainly was harder. But it seems that being a lesbian AND being a woman who loves sex is a bit more than most people can handle,” I laughed.

I'd spent the entire class half hard behind the podium, forcing myself to focus on the projector while she crossed and uncrossed her smooth legs every few minutes. And here she was, Layla Turner, an A+ student turned self-sabotaging brat, dripping on my table because she couldn't wait any longer. Such an impatient little slut. I'd been eager to play this game with her all session. Who knew she would snap so soon? Christ, she was perfect. Her pussy was slick with arousal, already swollen from nothing other than anticipation of being fucked. I leaned back in my chair, watching as she slid her fingers down, tracing her slit for a few seconds before dipping two fingers in.

“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.

it was an erotic story ,titled the hot kidnapper) I raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in my eyes. I push off from the desk and walk closer, my heels clicking on the floor. “A story, huh? You think you can just walk in here and write a tale for me? How about you show me what you’re made of first? Tell me, what’s your fantasy? What gets you going in the dark?” I lean in, my breath warm against your ear, my large breasts pressing against your arm. (Pushing the paper to you I ask you to read it aloud ,you cheeks turn a faint red as you try to explain you brought the wrong story,I press a finger to your lips shushing you and telling you to read, you read it all)

His other hand stayed locked at her waist, keeping her pinned exactly where he wanted her. Larissa’s lips parted on a shaky exhale. The room still spun in lazy, drunken circles, but his voice was low and rough, nothing like Finn’s. She didn’t want to know if it wasn’t Finn, she just wanted the fantasy to hold just a little longer. “Please…”