Touch Me Not Lesbian Novels & Stories

“Tasha’s story got you hot, huh?” Tasha laughed, then leaned forward again. “Speaking of… my girl’s been talking about a threesome. She’s into it. Asked if I knew anyone cute and open-minded.” Her gaze flicked to me, playfully “You down, Soph? You’ve been acting moody lately, it would be fun.” My heart slammed against my ribs. “No,” I said too fast. “I mean…no. Definitely not.” Tasha raised a brow. “Sure? You watch lesbian p**n sometimes. I’ve seen your browser history that one time you left your phone unlocked.”

Trust me on that. Latifa: Tell me more, tell me. Me: You're going to scream my name, baby. It took a while again for her to reply to the last message, then I began to wonder if she had been masturbating on the other side of her space. Latifa: Can I touch myself? Fuck, you can’t do that! I was right Me: No baby, I'm the only one meant to touch you. Don't even think about caressing your body, it's mine to begin with. See you tomorrow.

When she saw me, she smiled, her legs separated wide on the floor, hands going in between them, she rubbed on her clit softly, eyes locked with mine as she sucked on the same hands she used in rubbing her clit. “Creamy,” she moaned. Her hands wiggled her boobs, nipple very big, she squeezed on it, a free invite for me to come in and touch. I sighed loudly. This is the time for the physical touch, as just watching didn’t bring about anything, why not touch. I leaned closer and was ready to touch her boobs when Monvane growled out. “She is not our mate,” he growled loudly, scaring the living day out of the female laying down.

Fuck them. Larissa pulled her crop tee up and held it in place with her teeth, exposing a bare chest. I already knew she wasn't wearing a bra but the image was too much of a turn-on. She rolled her nipple with her other hand, propping her knees to get a better balance. Her moans were melodies heating my blood, her voice was a force stirring my heart, and her expression guided my hand to my pants. "Don't," she suddenly snapped. She spat out her top and glared at me. "You're not allowed to touch yourself. That's my job,"

Beyond that, she had experienced a brief but intense relationship with a female classmate. The memory of the sensual exhilaration of a woman’s touch still excited her to this day. She knew she would do it again should the opportunity arise. However, she didn’t actively seek out other women, nor did she typically look at them in that way. Since her first and only lesbian affair, she hadn’t come across another woman who stirred those feelings.

My life became miserable from then, I couldn't do what I wanted to do even when the time I turned 18; I didn't get the chance to celebrate my debut, which I have been dreaming of since I was a child. After that incident, I became afraid of men and even when they touched me, I was shaking and shouting. I couldn't control my actions. I've only talked to dad last year as I'm slowly getting recovered . So here I am, living in this island with maids and butlers for 15 years. I haven't seen the butlers for 13 years because my mom told me not to while I'm still recovering, but now I don't panic too much when a man sees me, but when he touches me, everything comes back to me like a nightmare.

After a few minutes of silent cuddling, she pulled out her phone. I smiled, watching her unknowingly move herself towards even further devotion. Beth, meanwhile, was a whole other story. See, Beth was a lesbian. Still is, in fact. "Fuck me," she moaned, her fingers sliding in and out of her dripping pussy. "Fuck me, Toby. Make me yours. I want your cock inside me. I want it so bad..."

Some were like you before I initiated them- proud of myself. She smiled. Karen wondered she was supposed to do. Smile too? A awkward smile appeared on her face. “Yesterday was great,” she repeated. “I mean…I kept thinking about it all through the night. It was this morning I realized it was just the sex but the person.” Was this how lesbians toast? Karen wondered. “You have a beautiful soul.” She placed her hand on Karen’s. “I’m not a lesbian, Lorna.” “But we made sparks yesterday. I enjoyed it as much as you did and I’ll be lying if I said I don’t want to do it again.”

Something about the way she looked in that moment—cheeks flushed, eyes bright, laughter still dancing on her lips—made his chest tighten. “You should dry off,” he muttered, turning away. But before he could step away, she reached for him. “Adrian.” He froze as her fingers curled gently around his wrist. Her touch was soft, tentative. His pulse thundered in his ears. She had touched him before—small, fleeting brushes of fingers, innocent gestures that shouldn’t have mattered. But now, standing there in the dim glow of the lantern, with the storm raging outside, it felt different. More real.

Each of these lesbians wanted a piece of her, and if all they could get were a selfie with her, they would happily take whatever they could get. Leslie took out a cigarette, took a puff, and blew a ring of smoke into one of the girl’s faces. She laughed and said, “I am not available today. Get out of here.” The girls reluctantly left, and they crossed paths with Crystal as she came into the café- and when they saw Leslie call her over to her table, their faces turned red from bitter anger.