by Sabrina Kane
“Well?” Leslie demanded.
Sally sighed.
“Mom, I never told you because…well, because I didn’t think you’d like the books,” she answered. “They’re lesbian romances.”
“I have nothing against lesbians!”
“Mom, obviously I know that! But—”
“Anyway,” Leslie interrupted, “I downloaded the first book.”
Sally almost dropped the phone.
The Jillian Ashley books weren’t just pages and pages of sex, held together by the flimsiest of plots, like most of the erotica lesfic out there; but the sex scenes were…explicit. Sally’s best friend, Lisa, even described them once as “pussy-clenching.” The thought that her mother was going to read them—especially Chapter 25 in Fordham Road!—and think that she wrote them…
Seriously! Fuck my life!
“Mom…I really don’t think—”
“And why did you pick a name like Jillian Ashley? How did you come up with that?”
“Baby name website,” she said, using the same story she had told Lisa. “Anyway, Mom, I’ll gladly explain all this to you some other time, but right now I need to get ready for a date! I’ll call you in a few days.”
Or maybe when your old and senile.
Leslie was reluctant to end the conversation but finally acquiesced and when Sally was finally able to tap the red button on her phone’s screen, she let out a groan.
Seriously! Fuck my life!
***
“I suppose the dream dream is to open my own studio,” Sally told Amy. They were at the restaurant, awaiting the arrival of their entrees, each woman enjoying a glass of the Riesling Sally had ordered a bottle of.
Sally was amazed at how good Amy looked. Her date was wearing an adorable off-shoulder floral print swing dress showing off her tanned legs, and cute high-heeled sandals. Sally had a shoe fetish—both as a shopper and as a lesbian. As a shopper, shoes were her drug of choice and she currently had over eighty pairs, lovingly displayed in an outrageously expensive shoe rack she’d had custom-built in the walk-in closet of her bedroom. As a lesbian, well…sexy shoes on sexy women turned her on immensely. On any given day, if she was out and about, Sally was often driven to distraction by seeing an attractive woman with cute footwear. It didn’t even have to be high heels. Just the other day, Sally had found herself breathing a little more rapidly when she was in the grocery store, standing in line behind a yummy blonde in denim shorts who was wearing a pair of black ankle-strap ballet flats.
“But I’d want my studio to be more of a boutique operation, you know?” Sally continued, answering Amy’s five-year-plan question. “I’d want our focus to be on doing smaller projects for a lot of smaller companies, with one, maybe two big national accounts to help keep the lights on.”
“Sounds awesome,” Amy said. “I like that you’re not all about ‘bigger is better.’ It tells me that your craft is more important than your bottom line.”
Sally licked her lips. She really liked that Amy got her.
“What about you? she asked.
“Well,” Amy began, “I’d like to see my Lesbeing endeavors really take off, you know? But I promise I have altruistic reasons!”
Sally laughed. Amy was so fucking cute when she was excited about something she was talking about.
Amy explained that already, Lesbeing—both the blog and the podcast—was earning her money through advertising that she sold and various merchandise available on the show’s website. But if she was able to increase that monetization, she wanted to use that income to help start a non-profit organization to provide support and counseling for at-risk LGBTQ youth in this part of California.
“I can’t believe how hot you are,” Sally couldn’t help exclaiming.
Amy blushed a deep crimson.
“What? Why?”
Sally bit her lip, pleased that Amy watched it closely.
“Selflessness is sexy,” she told Amy, practically purring.
Amy quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, in that case…I also regularly donate my blood plasma.”
“Stop it or I’ll start giving the other diners a show,” Sally joked.
Their entrees arrived a moment later: cioppino for Sally and grigliata di pesce for Amy. Under the table, their legs were pressed together. At first, it had been an accidental touch caused by Sally shifting in her seat. But when the contact had occurred, Sally didn’t break it and neither did Amy. Feeling the smooth and hairless skin of Amy’s leg against hers had been keeping her pulse slightly elevated, and though initially Sally had been able to detect a temperature difference between their skin surfaces, with Amy’s leg being a skosh warmer, that difference had since been equalized, with Sally taking on some of Amy’s warmth and Amy taking on some of Sally’s coolness until it was as if the connection between them made them one person.
Deciding to have a little fun, Sally ran her calf up Amy’s lower leg, eliciting a gasp from her date just as Amy was about to take a bite of crab cake. The look Amy gave her—a mixture of fuck me now and fuck me NOW!—made Sally’s clit twitch.
“Um…so…” Amy began, her face beginning to flush, “be honest with me…how likely is it that I can meet your friend?”
Sally knew she was talking about Max and wanting to give Amy a good answer, she considered it for a few moments while chewing on a bite of calamari.
“I already mentioned it to him,” she said. “But I know him. He’s going to want to know why you want to meet him.”
“Fair enough,” Amy said, nodding. “It’s nothing sinister, though. I may not yet be one-hundred percent over the fact that my favorite lesfic author is a man but I’m over it enough to still want to meet my favorite lesfic author. Does that make sense?”
“Totally.”
“I mean, it really is amazing what he managed to do,” Amy went on, thoughtfully. “He’s a guy who wrote books about lesbians that are better than some books written by actual lesbians. How the hell did he do that?”
“Beats me,” Sally confessed. In the days since Max dropped that bomb on her, she had been wondering the same thing.
“Is he gay?” Amy asked. “Because for some reason that makes sense to me.”
Sally laughed.
“Totally not gay,” she assured Amy. In fact, she made a mental note to ask him about Tiffany. He had promised to call her and although Sally didn’t expect that to lead to anything long-term, she still wanted Max to be out there dating.
Amy stared at her.
“Wait…you two never…?”
Sally blinked.
“Oh god no! No! I’ve known I was gay since junior high and never tried to prove otherwise!”
Amy giggled.
“God, that would be quite the story, wouldn’t it?” she asked. “If I was currently fucking the woman who used to fuck the guy who is my favorite lesbian writer?”
Laughing, Sally said, “That would be the best podcast episode ever!” She took another sip of wine. “Oh, by the way…my mom now thinks I’m Jillian Ashley.”
Amy’s eyes became as wide as humanly possible and her mouth dropped open.
“No way! How?”
Sally fudged a little on the details. She wasn’t about to tell Amy that earlier today she had been on a blind date with a hot doctor with a professional connection to her mother. Instead, she told Amy that she had run into a gay friend of her mother’s who had seen Amy’s podcast.
“And you didn’t set her straight?” Amy asked.
“Too risky,” Sally said. “I really don’t want to blow Max’s cover. I mean, I don’t know how you feel about that but—”
“I think you did the right thing!” Amy interrupted.
Sally reached for Amy’s hand.
“Are you sure?” she asked. Even though they had talked about keeping Max’s secret during their first night together, Sally wasn’t sure Amy understood how far this had spread and so she now told Amy about how, the day after the podcast interv
iew, her social media accounts had been lit up, meaning all of her friends now believed she was Jillian Ashley.
“And if my mother thinks I’m Jillian Ashley,” she went on, “then my entire family now thinks I’m Jillian Ashley.”
Amy was nodding.
“I get that,” she told Sally. “Basically, the whole world believes you wrote those books. But, baby, of course that was going to happen after you came on my show.”
“Right, but…I feel like I’m now somehow roping you into this…deception.”
“But the only reason you feel that way is because we’re dating,” Amy replied. “This whole thing with all of your friends and your mother knowing would have still happened after the show was uploaded even if we never saw each other again. The only difference is, I know the truth. And the only reason I know the truth is because you were honest enough to tell me.”
“Because I wanted to keep seeing you,” Sally said.
“And that is amazing!” Amy said, beaming a huge smile. “Because I wanted to keep seeing you as soon as you sat down in the coffeeshop.”
Once again, Sally started moving her leg against Amy’s. Amy’s eyes grew stormy with lust.
“That’s causing a reaction,” Amy whispered.
Sally could believe it. She was experiencing her own reaction.
“Is that right?” she asked.
“Very much so,” Amy confirmed.
“Let’s finish eating.
***
“Leave the shoes on,” Sally instructed.
They were at her condo again because, again, it was closer and after their dinner at Vigilucci’s, it was all they could do to keep from not having sex in Sally’s BMW as soon as the restaurant’s valet returned it.
Her heart thudding, Sally watched Amy slide her panties over her hips and then let them fall to her ankles. She then expertly stepped out of them and suddenly Sally’s breath was ragged as right before her was a gorgeous naked woman wearing only the cutest high heels.
Sally was sitting on the edge of her sofa in the living room. Her own dress was off, leaving her only wearing the purple lingerie she had chosen for tonight: a sheer-cup bra with lace straps and matching sheer panties. As Amy had undressed—slowly, provocatively—Sally had run her middle finger over her clit through the fabric of her panties, sending swoon-inducing tingles throughout her core. She had been wet throughout dinner but now she was flooded and she knew Amy could see the nice large damp spot on her underwear.
“I love how I can see your pussy through your panties,” Amy whispered.
Sally groaned.
“Put your right foot on the coffee table,” she said.
A high-heeled foot with perfectly pedicured toenails painted black clicked down atop the Scandinavian-designed coffee table and now, with Amy’s foot lifted like that, her dripping pussy was on full display for Sally.
“Oh my god, baby!” Sally slid off the sofa, onto her knees before her guest, her face level with Amy’s abdomen. The musk from Amy’s arousal wafted up into her nostrils, making her groan and salivate. But Sally wasn’t in a rush. She sat down on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her and kissed each of the toes of Amy’s right foot, running her tongue along each lacquered nail, gratified to hear Amy whimper a bit at this attention.
Sally then slid her tongue up the top of Amy’s foot and played it along the edge of the strap of Amy’s shoe. Meanwhile, her hand traveled up Amy’s leg, stopping at her thigh.
“Sally…” Amy moaned and Sally spared a look up at her date, seeing that Amy had her head thrown back, her mouth open and her eyes shut, huffs of excited breath escaping from between her lips.
Sally then looked back at Amy’s pussy. The woman’s clit was engorged—a pink and swollen button that made Sally lick her lips. And she nearly lost her mind when she saw a thin line of Amy’s essence stretch down from her sexy folds, a glistening drop at the end of it, dangling from the lips, swaying a bit because of Amy’s trembling.
With a moan of her own, Sally flicked out her tongue to catch that drop, savoring the flavor of it. She then quickly inserted two fingers inside the wetness.
“Oh fuck yes!” Amy squeaked.
Sally went back to lavishing kisses and licks on Amy’s foot while fucking her slightly curled fingers slowly in and out of her girlfriend’s soaked pussy, Amy’s hips rocking in time with her thrusts. Gravity brought more Amy’s arousal dripping out and Sally could feel the warm liquid roll down her fingers onto the rest of her hand. Looking up again, Sally saw Amy squeezing her tiny breasts with both hands, pinching her own nipples.
“Oh, fuck!” Amy exclaimed a minute or two later. “Sally! Oh, fuuuuuck! I’m coming!”
Sure enough, Sally felt her fingers clenched tightly by those soft inner walls when the orgasm first struck and Amy’s pussy spasmed, just a moment before they were then kneaded rhythmically as the convulsions started, with Amy screaming lustily at this point, her come squirting out now. What didn’t fall on Sally’s wrist, fell on the shag area rug in shining droplets. Sally got back up onto her knees and snaked her free arm around Amy’s waist to help support her while the climax tore through her. Amy grasped Sally’s head and held it close to her trembling body and Sally peppered Amy’s abdomen with light kisses and tiny nibbles.
Suddenly, Sally could sense Amy quickly losing her strength to remain standing and before she collapsed, began guiding her gently to the floor, laying her down on top of the area rug. Expertly, Sally kept her fingers buried inside Amy’s center as she executed this maneuver and when they were both down on the floor, with Sally lying atop her, she began once more slowly fucking her fingers in and out.
Amy looked at Sally, her eyes smoky with lust.
“Make me come again!” she demanded.
Sally quirked an eyebrow.
“Only if you ask nicely,” she responded, swiping Amy’s clit once with her thumb which caused Amy to shudder and moan.
“Please!” Amy exclaimed.
Sally put a pout on her face.
“You can ask more nicely than that, can’t you?” This time, her swipe of Amy’s clit was feather-light but Sally was pleased that it still jolted Amy strongly.
“Oh, fuck!” Amy whispered. “Please, please make me come again!”
Sally shook her head.
“‘Please’ who?” she asked and then pressed her thumb against Amy’s clit, holding it there.
She then had to wait a few moments because this act rendered Amy incapable of speech. Amy’s head was now arched back, her mouth open wide as she half moaned/half whimpered.
“Please who?” Sally prodded again.
“Sally! Please, Sally!”
“Put it together properly,” Sally instructed.
“Ohmyfuck! Please, Sally, please make me come again!”
Sally’s panties were now overwhelmed, her arousal seeping past the fabric, coating her thighs, her pussy clenching at Amy’s compliance. Smiling Sally, brought her lips down to give Amy a kiss.
“So much better,” she purred after the kiss broke. She then gave Amy what she wanted and it wasn’t long before the walls of Sally’s condo were once more ringing with screams of delight.
Chapter 19
The next morning, Sally made them breakfast again. While Amy was sitting at the small table in the kitchen’s breakfast nook and Sally was busy plating the food—this time, omelets and diced fruit—Amy’s phone pinged. From the sound, she knew it was a notification of a new comment posted on her website. More than once over the past few days, she had considered turning off the notifications entirely because ever since the Jillian Ashley interview, her phone had been blowing up with them! As it was, she now found herself silencing her phone more during any given day just to avoid hearing that chime over and over again.
Opening the message, she started reading it as she took a sip of coffee.
Dear Amy,
My name is Gail and I just wanted to write to tell you how important it was for me to watch
your interview of Jillian Ashley! Finally, I got to see and hear her! What a treat! It was particularly special for me because her books helped me through some difficult times recently, like when my girlfriend broke up with me and when I was unable to go visit my elderly parents for over a year because of the pandemic. I’m immunocompromised and so until all of this Covid stuff is done, I really have to be extra careful and stay inside! Jillian’s books have been one of my main sources of escape from what has been a pretty dreary existence. Finally getting to see her was like finally meeting up again with an old friend!
“Babe, look at this,” Amy said, just as Sally brought their plates to the table. Sally took the phone from her and read what was on the screen.
“Oh my God!” she said when she was done, handing the device back. “Wow!”
“I get messages like that all the time now.” Amy said, putting the phone face down on the table. “This looks amazing, by the way!”
“Thank you,” Sally said, sitting down. “I can eat breakfast three meals a day. I love it but I would need to be sure not to have blueberry muffins with it. Those are my weakness.”
“Ah, so I can bribe you to do anything I want if I make you blueberry muffins?”
Sally looked at her.
“You can bribe me to do anything you want just by being topless,” she said.
Amy laughed.
“Secondly,” Sally went on, “if you actually made me blueberry muffins, I would think you’re a goddess.”
Amy resolved to buy the ingredients for muffins later that day.
They ate in silence for a bit. When it came to eggs, anyway, Sally was a really good cook. Cooking was something which Amy enjoyed immensely, though oftentimes her workaholic nature and the demands of her job, the blog and podcast meant that she frequently ordered take-out rather than cooked something. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help her mind creating images now of her and Sally in her kitchen, working together to make a meal—perhaps something Italian, which was Amy’s favorite. Imagining that felt good. In fact, perhaps it felt a little too good. She shook her head slightly to dispel the picture. This was only their second morning together…
