The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotic Confessions

by Barbara Cardy

  One Friday at closing time she came by my office and said she was going out for a drink with a few friends. If I didn’t have plans, did I want to come along? I was flattered to be invited, and grabbed my purse and followed her out. We went down in the elevator and I was conscious of her perfume – not the usual flowery scent, but something muskier, earthier. I thought it sexy and again wished I had her innate sense of taste.

  “It’s just a few blocks from here,” she said. “Let’s walk.” It was a beautiful summer evening and the walk was a pleasant relief after the long day in the office. She chatted on about issues at the office, and I must confess I was only paying minimal attention. I couldn’t help noticing how many men looked her over, even stopped after they’d passed to watch her walk by. I get my share of looks, but nothing like that. Perhaps it was just because I was with her, but I seemed to be getting a lot more attention than usual myself. It made me feel sexy and I enjoyed being able to drop the professional manager persona and be appreciated as a woman.

  Some of my replies must have been a little too automatic, because she suddenly stopped and looked at me. “Okay, Isobel,” she laughed. “I get it. No more shop talk on a Friday night.”

  I laughed. “No, it’s fine. But I was just noticing how many men are staring at us.”

  She looked around in surprise. “Are they? And why not? You’re a very beautiful woman.”

  “I think it’s reflected glory. Is it always like this for you?”

  She shrugged carelessly. “I don’t know. Sometimes. I hardly notice it any more. Ah, here’s the bar. I hope you’ll like it – it’s one of my favourites.”

  We went in and it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. When they did, I saw it was crowded at the tables and bar, with some nice mellow rock music playing low enough so that it did not prevent conversation, and a small dance floor. There seemed to be no open tables. Renee looked around and led me to a small table in a far corner. It was covered with a long white tablecloth.

  “You better stay and hold this table. What’ll you have?”

  “A Lemon Drop sounds perfect.”

  When she returned with the drinks, we sipped and chatted. My drink was quite strong, and the gin on an empty stomach went straight to my head. Perhaps that’s why I said what I did.

  “Renee, I admire you,” I blurted out. “You manage to be sexy and professional at the same time. I’m always trying to find the right balance between the two. You make it look so easy. Guys are always chatting you up, and you seem to enjoy it, but then you brush them off and they don’t even seem to mind. You’re just so cool. How do you do it?”

  She laughed. “It’s easy, love. I can stay cool with all the ardent young men because I don’t care about them.”

  “You don’t?” I asked.

  “Oh, I like the dear boys, and the attention is fun and flattering, but there’s no way I’m going to give any of them a chance.”

  “Why not? Because you’re co-workers?”

  She shook her head with an amazed smile. “No,” she answered. “Because they’re men.”

  “What?”

  “Look around you, my poor lamb.”

  I did. The tables and dance floor were crowded with groups of attractive young professional people, laughing and drinking. Then I noticed two women at one of the tables kissing. A couple of men were dancing together.

  “This is a gay bar!” I exclaimed. “But then . . .”

  “Yes . . . ?” she asked with a smile.

  “You’re a lesbian?”

  “Well, duh. I thought everyone knew that. I make no secret of it.”

  “No, I didn’t know. Oh, now I feel stupid.”

  She reached across the table and patted my hand. “There’s no need. I’m pleased to know people don’t call me the ball-busting dyke in Marketing.”

  “Oh, no, everyone loves you. I’ve never heard a word against you, really.”

  “I think most people know. It doesn’t stop the guys from hitting on me – I think they see me as a challenge – but it makes it easy for me to flirt and joke with them without hurting feelings.”

  I stared at her. “I feel so hopelessly provincial,” I said. “It simply never occurred to me.”

  “Are you shocked?”

  “No, of course not. But you’re just so feminine and sexy, I never dreamed.”

  “Lord, girl, do you think lesbians aren’t sexy?” she laughed. “We’re the horniest bunch of women around.” She leaned closer. “Maybe you should try it.”

  “Is that why you invited me out?”

  “Well, of course, you goose. Isobel, you are so fucking hot.”

  I laughed in embarrassment, but I was aware of the flash of heat that went through me at her words. “Renee! Me? You’d like to . . . well . . .”

  “Fuck you? Kiss you? Lick you? Run my hands all over that delicious body? Yes, I would.”

  I blushed and looked away nervously. I glanced around, but the tables were so small that people clustered around them, turning their backs to their neighbours. No one was paying attention to us. Renee and I might have been alone.

  “I don’t really know what to say,” I stammered at last.

  “It’s a three-letter word,” she prompted, watching my eyes.

  “But I’m not a lesbian.”

  “How do you know?”

  “How do I know? I like guys, okay?”

  “Have you ever been with a woman?”

  “No. Never.”

  “But you’ve wondered about it?”

  “Well, yeah, sure. Doesn’t everybody?”

  “Fantasized about it? You know, when it’s just you and the vibrator?”

  “Renee!”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t have a vibrator! Oh, girl, the wasted years!”

  “No, I . . .” I looked around and lowered my voice. “I do have one. And sometimes I fantasize about women.”

  “There, you see? You’re gay. Being a lesbian doesn’t mean you hate men – it means you’re turned on by girls.”

  “But I wouldn’t even know what to do. In my fantasies, I just sort of lie back and let her do things to me.”

  “That can be arranged,” Renee said, putting her hand over mine. She continued to study every emotion that crossed my face. It must have been quite a show.

  “But I don’t even know if I’d like it,” I said, getting desperate for an excuse. “I mean, it turns me on when I think about it, but what would it be like to really do it – to have another woman’s mouth down there, you know?”

  “Licking your cunt,” she said. Her voice was different – deeper, almost raspy. I realized she was intensely aroused. I’ve certainly been with many men who wanted me. But they started grabbing, unbuttoning, trying to take control. With Renee there was none of that. She knew exactly what I wanted, and she wanted to give it to me.

  “Yes,” I whispered, weakening by the second as I stared into her eyes, burning in the dim light. “Licking my cunt. And, and the other stuff.”

  Renee was trembling. I could see it in her neck and where her dress was stretched between her breasts. Her hand was moist on mine. Somehow our fingers had become woven together. She kept staring at me, and it was like being stared down by a tigress. The hunger, the desire in her eyes, burned through me. She leaned close to me, as if to whisper a secret. I leaned forwards, smelled the warmth of her hair, that delicious perfume again, and something else, something even earthier. I realized with a shock that it was the smell of sex. My God, it was her. No, it was us. Both of us were as wet as water slides.

  She brought her lips to my ear, and my skin twitched at her breath on my neck. I had no idea what she was going to say, but I trembled to hear it.

  “Kick me if someone comes,” she said. I jerked back in surprise.

  “What? What does that mean? I don’t understand.”

  She glanced around at our nearest neighbours. No one was looking our way. She gave me a look that would have fried ba
con. Then she sank out of sight.

  I stared incredulously at where she had been. What was she doing? Then I felt the table jiggle. I jumped when I felt her hands brush my legs. She took hold of my skirt and pushed it up around my hips. Then she rested her head on my bare knees. I couldn’t believe what she had just done. I glanced around, but no one was looking in our direction. I pulled the tablecloth toward me and spread it wide across my lap, covering me to the waist in front. I reached under the table and tried to bat her away, get her out of there before somebody saw us. I felt her hair spilling across my knees. It was so long, and so soft. I grasped a handful and tried to gently pull her up, but she resisted, keeping her head bent, her forehead on my knees. Her hair felt so good in my hands. She had beautiful thick auburn hair, and I realized I had often longed to touch it. I ran my fingers through it, then stroked her head. Still, Renee remained motionless, waiting. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.

  Then I felt Renee’s hands take hold of my ankles and start to pull them apart. I stiffened at the touch and resisted at first, horrified and fascinated by what was happening, and terrified we would be discovered. But the thought of Renee, the beautiful, brilliant Vice President of Marketing, kneeling on the floor of a bar, waiting for me was so fucking dirty and exciting and outrageous that I felt ready to faint. When she pressed my ankles apart again, I let her spread my legs. Feeling my surrender, she raised her head. Her hands came up to rest on my thighs, then slid under my skirt and caught my panties at the hips. Oh, yes, that was exactly what I wanted! I wanted no covering at all. I wanted to be totally exposed to her. I raised my ass slightly and she pulled my panties down over my hips. As she slid them down my thighs, I could feel the coolness of moisture on my inner thighs. The panties were soaked through, and she must have felt that too as she worked them over my high heels. She knew how excited I was, how much I wanted her. Pussies don’t lie.

  With my skirt hiked up I could feel the cool air moving on my thighs. But I felt nothing but heat down there, knowing her head was between my knees, staring at my pussy. It must be dark down there; she probably couldn’t see much. But her head was only a foot from my cunt, and both of us were intensely aware of it. The thought of her eyes on me was incredibly exciting. I wanted to be totally exposed to her.

  When she pressed my knees apart again, I spread my legs as wide as I dared and she wriggled between them. I felt her hair brushing the hyper-sensitive skin inside my thighs, her hot breath on my mound. Then her mouth came down on my slit and I nearly screamed.

  Renee was an expert at her work. She did things to me I didn’t know I needed done. I had thought I couldn’t get any hotter, but I was so wrong. And I couldn’t move, I couldn’t cry out, I couldn’t react in any way. I was clutching the edge of the table so hard my fingernails turned white. My eyes were open, but I was aware only of what she was doing to my clit. In ten seconds I was coming, lifting my hips to push myself harder against her tongue and lips. She brushed her teeth lightly across my clit, and I jerked to another spasm, then another and another. Finally she released me, and I slowly relaxed from the greatest orgasm of my life.

  “Would you like another?” said a voice, and my eyes snapped into focus. A waitress was leaning over me, pointing to my empty glass.

  “N-no,” I managed to croak out. “No, I believe I’ve had enough.” She looked at my face with some concern. “Are you all right?” she asked. Lord knows how I looked at that moment. I was sweating, my pulse was racing and I had bitten my lip.

  “Yes, thank you, I’m fine.” The last word squeaked out, because at that moment Renee slipped three fingers into me. The woman was still looking at me curiously.

  “I’m fine, really,” I said, flashing her a crooked smile.

  “Is your friend coming back? She’s been gone a while.”

  “Oh, yes, she’s coming back. We’ll definitely be coming back here.”

  When the waitress had gone, I glanced quickly around to make sure no one was looking my way, then reached down and tapped Renee’s head, still resting on my bare thigh. The table jiggled as she extricated herself and a moment later her beautiful face appeared across from me. Her hair was in disarray and her lipstick smudged, but her eyes were glowing with pleasure and excitement and she wore a huge grin. She picked up a cocktail napkin and delicately wiped her lips and cheeks, and I felt another wave of heat as I realized she was wiping my pussy juices from her face.

  Her big, gorgeous eyes looked deep into mine.

  “Well, what do you think?” she asked, as if I’d just tried a new cocktail or shade of lipstick.

  I smiled and reached across to take her hand. “You were right, Renee,” I laughed. “I guess I am a lesbian.”

  DRIVEN INTO EACH OTHER’S LEGS

  Trixie, Montgomery

  I guess maybe we were a little drunk. Or a lot. Anyway, we were sitting across from each other at the wobbly kitchen table in my dilapidated double-wide trailer, when Lenore started bitching about her good-for-nothing husband, again. And I kind of snapped.

  “Yeah, yeah! He doesn’t work, always gambles and cheats on you with every skank in the trailer park and every slut server at Porky’s down the road. Blah, blah, blah, blah!”

  Lenore stared at me, her hands gripping her half-empty glass. The tall, slim brunette is normally shy and quiet, except when she gets a few in her and gets on about her husband, Colby. Now, her dark eyes flashed and her nostrils flared, her knuckles blazing white on the glass and the long muscles clenching all along her pale, tattooed arms. She normally never gets upset, either, except when someone interrupts one of her woe-is-me jags.

  “And what would you suggest I do about it, Trix?” she hissed, her precise diction telling me she had gone stone-cold sober, and mad. Her small breasts bobbed up and down in her tight, white tank, her pretty face set grim and her red lips pressed together.

  I hadn’t meant to anger the woman, at least not too much; she was my friend, after all. But I was plain sick and tired of her taking the short end of the stick off her runt of a husband and then complaining to me about it. My own husband, Lenell, was quite the asshole, too. But I didn’t whine about him all the time.

  “Well, uh, why don’t you cheat on him?” I helpfully suggested. “If he’s banging sleazy Sue-Ellen two trailers down, like you say, cornholing easy Enid at Porky’s, like you claim, then why don’t you fight fire with fire? Grab yourself a dance partner and samba some bed sheets. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, right? Get your tail feathers ruffled and beak it to the bastard.”

  Lenore kept staring at me. I got kind of uneasy, what with my mama drilling it into my head that “silent waters run deep”. I knew Lenore kept a hunting knife in her purse on the floor.

  When she did finally speak, she cut me to the quick. But not with any knife.

  “Maybe you’re right, Trix,” she half-whispered through clenched teeth. “Maybe I should cheat on Colby – with another woman.”

  While I was trying to process those provocative words in my fuzzified mind, Lenore reached across the table and grasped my hand. “What about it, Trix?” she said, glaring into my eyes. “You want to get back at our no-good, unfaithful husbands; have some fun, just us two girls?”

  I wasn’t sure if she was serious or not. “Uh . . .”

  “Come on! You said I should do something about it. Well, let’s do something about it. You’re in the same boat I am, Trix. Lenell is as faithful as a tomcat. So let’s put on a little show for our cheating husbands, pretend we’re cheating with each other.”

  It was almost dumb enough to make sense, especially in our slightly intoxicated conditions. We knew our bastard beaus would be coming back to the trailer any minute, so why not give them a queer scare, tit for tat and tit to tit?

  Lenore nodded, then stood up and wrenched me up with her, her red, white and blue-painted fingernails digging into my hand. She moved us out around the table, then pulled me up close to her. She breathed in my redden
ed face, her thunderstorm eyes flashing lightning.

  “How ‘bout it, Trix? I’m a nice-looking woman, flexible and passionate as all get-out, hungry for lovin’, and revenge. And you’re a nice-looking woman, too, with big appetites yourself. Those lush curves of yours are just calling for some sweet caressing. Those big, swollen tits and that hot, juicy pussy, needing, wanting hands and lips and tongue all over them, petting, licking, sucking, fucking. What’d you say, Trix!?”

  She was working herself into a frenzy with the act. Me along with her, I had to admit. My jugs were tingling, nipples popping like hers, simmering pussy surging with damp. I’d thrown Lenell out of our bed the last two nights in a row. It had been a long time between lovings for me. Why not a play-date with Lenore, to shock the sleazy men to their senses?

  Lenore jerked me up against her and planted her lips on my kisser, surprising me with her intensity. I jerked my head back, stumbled backwards, fell over the arm of the big brown leather couch where Lenell had been bedding down the last couple of nights.

  I stared up at Lenore as she stripped off her tank and shook out her long, dark hair, showed me her small, hard tits and harder pink nipples, the tattoos emblazoned all over her stomach and chest, and the pair of silver nipple rings she sported. Then the woman literally dove on top of me, launching herself into the air and landing on my laid-out body.

  I’ve got plenty of cushion, but the impact still sent the wind gushing out of me in a whoosh. Lenore pressed her advantage, pressing her hot, naked breasts into my plump, teed tits, running her long fingers into my short, dyed-blonde hair and hooking on tight, planting her wet, open mouth on my mouth again.