Lesbian Stories Wattpad Novels & Stories

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?

I love all different kinds of music, so there's a little something for everyone. 4. I write all different kinds of books. If you’re interested, you can find my other books on these platforms: a. GoodNovel: Trio of Mates Series: 4 werewolf books that take on the idea of what would happen if one of the leadership was gay and couldn’t produce an heir. Lots of very graphic smut. (completed) Love in the Time of Quarantine: 4 short stories that look at what happens when you are stuck with someone you didn’t expect during quarantine. Lots of very graphic smut. (ongoing)

Catarina was losing her battle - and as she approached age 26, the Ikapati Tribe kept demanding she choose a husband, an Aswang Warrior, who had done battle against the wind spirits and rival Tikbalang hordes, who fought over Domminga Mountains for terrain. But Catarina had never been entranced by the wiles of men: they were coarse, hairy, dark skin like cacao, rough thumbs that left her breasts aching as if they were devoid of milk. When she kissed her boyfriends, she felt dead, so she lived alone in her adobe castle, made of clay and crystal, fronds of banana and palm branches like a lattice in the roof, and she tended Ikapati's Peace Gardens, trying to change The carnivorous ways

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…”

"No, mother, no really. There are so many things in the boundless Underworld to explore. During my time there, I have seen so many fascinating people and places. There is the Pool of Memory that rests under the shade of a white poplar tree. The pool shows the aspect of memory in physical forms for those who miss their loved ones. Then there's the Vale of Mourning for those who died of broken heart. Also, the Acherusian Lake where the souls would cry out to those they had wronged, asking for forgiveness..." "Stop that now, Persephone!" Demeter hushed her sternly, "I have suffered so much to bring you back and now you start talking only about the dead. Did your stay in Tartarus make you go mad

The group chat had been buzzing for weeks: six authors, all women in their late twenties to early thirties, finally coordinating an in-person meetup after years of online collaboration. They’d been workshopping an anthology of interconnected erotica stories—steamy, character-driven pieces that blurred lines between desire, power, and vulnerability. Zainab had been the quietest in the group, always thoughtful with her feedback, never flashy, but when the venue discussion stalled (hotels too expensive, coffee shops too public), she typed the offer without overthinking it.

“I will text you tomorrow.” Xavier pulled me into a hug. His hand slid low on my back. He pressed close so I felt him again. “Goodbye, Lila,” he said quietly. His eyes stayed on mine. After they left, I went straight upstairs. I locked my door. I took off all my clothes and lay on the bed naked. I spread my legs wide. I slid my hand between my legs. My pussy was soaked. My clit was swollen. I rubbed hard and fast. “Xavier…” I whispered.

And I was lying naked in the billionaire’s bed, dripping with his release, waiting for him to come back and use me again. The door opened and closed. Locked. Damien crossed the room without a word, stripped the sweatpants off, and climbed over me. He was fully hard again, thick and heavy, the head already slick. He didn’t ask. He simply lined up and pushed back into me in one long, relentless stroke until he bottomed out.

his breath was heavier “Like a slut” I felt myself get wetter as green eyes finished the words for him. They seem to notice the impact of that title on me, because the next instant Brown hair was right in my face. “Are you a slut?” I parted my lips yet the only sound that escaped were soft breaths. He nudged me, “Say it…” “I…” My chest was thumping hard, blood racing yet I couldn’t speak…maybe from excitement. Brown smirked, “Of course you’re a slut. Only a slut would agree to be locked up in a room with strange men, begging to me fucked senseless.”

When Liam came he pulled out and painted her belly: thick ropes that ran down the curve and pooled in her navel. Jake took his place in her cunt immediately, sliding into the slick, pregnant hole like he belonged there. Connor moved behind the throne and fed his cock into her ass, the angle perfect because of the way the chair tilted her hips. Double penetration while thirty women watched and sipped mimosas. One by one every man who had used her at the barbecue came back for more. Some took her mouth and added to the glaze on her face and tits. Some chose her cunt and pumped another load into the pregnant hole.