Looking up, Jayne slowly raised her head towards the glistening lips before her, slightly parted as if to invite her attentions. She glanced at the mirror and saw Sarah watching intently as her tongue slipped out and made gentle contact with the warmth between the other woman’s pale legs, the sight of the spectator turning her on even more.
Jayne closed her eyes, her nostrils filled with the erotically charged scent of Sarah’s sex. She reached round and sucked her right index finger before carefully inserting it into Sarah’s anus. She moved it with calm deliberation as her tongue pushed between the fleshy lips and the fingers of her left hand parted them further, Sarah letting out a groan as her body quivered.
The sensation of Sarah’s lips upon her inner thigh made Jayne pause momentarily as the other woman began to caress her with obvious purpose, her kisses leading slowly towards the centre of desire. Jayne tried to concentrate on the movement of her index finger and tongue as the manager ran her nails along her lower stomach, brushing the dark pubes and making Jayne tingle.
Lust took over where thought could not go, the feelings of pleasure and flames of desire so strong as the two women abandoned themselves to the moment. Jayne’s tongue moved inside, writhed in the wet confines, Sarah’s taste adding to the intensity. The manager slid two fingers into Jayne. They explored her, found the spot within which caused the fire to burn with such fierce brightness. Their nerves were alive with powerful sensations as tongues and fingers brought them towards the pinnacle of pure ecstasy.
Their breathing was heavy as their bodies writhed, desperate for the other’s attentions, wanting more, needing more, longing for the release of the molten glow within.
Jayne’s tongue darted in and out of Sarah, her fingers now flicking the other woman’s clitoris. In turn the manager sunk her fingers into Jayne as she kissed her thighs, bit them, ran her tongue along them. She had never wanted anyone more, was overcome with such lustfulness. She thrust into Jayne’s vagina with increasing pressure and speed, reached between them and grasped one of the other woman’s firm breasts as she leant forward and tasted her again.
Jayne let out a scream of pure, erotic pleasure as her nails dug into Sarah’s buttocks, the world shrinking into a ball of white light centred in her womb and then exploding, sending its warmth throughout her body.
“A little more,” said Sarah, urging Jayne to continue.
Jayne’s tongue moved with a quick rhythm as she breathed heavily, a finger entering with it as her thumb rubbed the manager’s clitoris. Her jaw ached from the effort as Sarah finally bucked and trembled, collapsing onto her as the rush of orgasm filled her every nerve.
After a few moments of succulent silence, their skin flushed and bodies close, Sarah moved from on top of Jayne and changed positions so they were lying face to face. They grinned at each other like Cheshire cats as the feelings of ecstasy lingered, pulses of warmth rolling out through their bodies.
Jayne stared into Sarah’s eyes as she reached out and stroked her cheek affectionately. “I’m the new area manager,” she said quietly.
Sarah looked at her, recalling the false alarm earlier when Vicky had mistaken a bank manager for the anticipated visitor.
Jayne’s fingers ran through Sarah’s ginger hair. “I always pose as a customer the first couple of visits to get a feel for the shop and its staff. But don’t worry . . .” She smiled at Sarah disarmingly. “You’ve got a lot more than just great managerial skills.”
Sarah grinned. “I knew who you were all along,” she admitted. “You left your handbag here when you came in on Monday and it had the shop’s address in it, along with directions so you could find your way. When I heard the area manager was due I put two and two together.”
“You really knew?” Jayne was clearly surprised.
Sarah nodded and took hold of Jayne’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She leant forward and they kissed softly in the warm afterglow of pleasure’s promise.
New Beginning
Melissa Fawcett
Terri had always hated motorway driving, especially at night; the small area of visibility and the speed unnerved her. An argument at the same time was more than she could cope with, especially when the argument was with Marilyn. One of the reasons she didn’t want to argue with Marilyn at the moment was because they were going on holiday, but also it was because of what arguing with Marilyn did to her. She didn’t understand why but arguing with Marilyn never failed to arouse her sexually – and she couldn’t afford to get aroused while she was driving on the motorway.
“I don’t know what possessed me to agree to coming away,” Marilyn said. “You know I don’t get on with your friend.”
“You couldn’t wish to meet a nicer woman than Annie, and after the last time I would have thought you’d want show yourself to be a bit nicer as well.”
“You thought wrong.”
Terri dug her fingers into the leather covering of the steering wheel. She had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange for them to stay in a cottage next door to her friend Annie. And although she was looking forward to the holiday – to seeing Annie and to spending time with Marilyn – she was nervous about those two meeting again; it had been such a disaster the first time. Unless Marilyn’s mood improved before they arrived it would be equally bad this time. Marilyn had been behaving like a spoilt brat ever since they had set out. And just to confuse everything, arguing with her was making Terri feel damp.
“You know how much my back hurts without my cushion,” Marilyn continued. “You’ve no consideration, that’s your trouble.”
Terri couldn’t believe that, after all she had done to put the holiday together, Marilyn was bitching about a cushion. A bloody cushion! She told her that if the cushion was so important she should have put it in the car herself, instead of leaving everything to her. But although she was furious at Marilyn for complaining, her fingers were digging into the steering wheel as much in an attempt to control the unwanted sexual arousal as much as her anger.
“It wouldn’t have been difficult to put it in the car with everything else. Or maybe you like the idea of me being in pain? Maybe it satisfies some sadistic urge in you, is that it?”
“For God’s sake, Lyn, I forgot your stupid cushion. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Well, thank you for caring.”
Terri glanced sideways and saw that Marilyn’s pretty face was distorted by her petulance. She felt like pushing her out of the car. All she had to do was lean over and open the door, depress the catch on Marilyn’s seat belt and give her a shove. She could tell the police that Marilyn had committed suicide while the balance of her mind was disturbed by a cushion. She couldn’t help smiling at the thought.
“Oh, so now you think it’s funny?” Marilyn snapped.
“No, of course not. Please, Lyn, let’s not have an argument.”
“It’s a bit late for that. It’s no use going out of your way to upset me and then saying let’s not have an argument. Pull into the next service area, I need a cigarette.”
“I thought you’d agreed to stop.”
“If you didn’t make my life so stressful I might have half a chance.”
“Come on, you can’t give up at the first hurdle.”
“Just pull in at the next service area and stop disagreeing with everything I say.”
Terri half-wanted to say something to ease the tension; but at the same time she didn’t see why she should. She wasn’t the one who was in a foul mood.
“Okay, buy some bloody cigarettes, see if I care. Have stinking breath and diseased lungs, it’s your choice. I’m not going to argue.”
She immediately regretted having said that. She wondered whether she was deliberately trying to provoke and prolong the argument so that she would get aroused? No, she couldn’t believe that. Why was she even thinking it? It was Marilyn, not her – Marilyn was the one who was being difficult.
At the start of their relationship, Terri had been impressed by Marilyn’s
cool independence – Terri was of an age when she no longer wanted a partner who would cling – but the cool independence seemed to have turned into selfishness.
“Oh, no, of course, it’s never you, is it? You’re not the one who argues? It’s always my fault!”
Terri refused to respond. She tried to distance herself from the bad vibrations in the car by recalling earlier, more pleasant days.
It was less than six months ago that she had picked Marilyn up at an exhibition of erotic art. She had noticed Marilyn’s pale pretty face from the other side of the room. Dressed in a leather mini-skirt and tight top, Marilyn had looked incredibly desirable. She had been standing in front of a Gustave Coubet painting of two naked women lying on a bed, supposedly sleeping but wrapped around each other and entwined in a highly suggestive manner. One of the women’s lips were close to the other’s breast. Marilyn was smiling to herself and probably showing her thoughts more blatantly than she intended. Terri had gone up beside her and said, “Does that appeal to you?”
“What d’you mean?” Marilyn had asked, a little flustered. “The painting or the act?”
Terri had laughed and Marilyn had blushed. Terri had suggested a drink. Marilyn hesitated, but when Terri had asked her again she had finally agreed. Marilyn was not as diffident as she at first seemed. In fact she was quite argumentative. While having the drink, she had been surprisingly rude by contradicting everything Terri said and had started an argument which had become heated on both sides. That was the first time Terri had ever been aroused by an argument. She couldn’t wait to get her hands and mouth on the girl. She persuaded her to come back to her flat, where they had re-enacted the modeling of Courbet’s painting.
Terri couldn’t remember when she had had such wonderful sex. Marilyn’s skin was gorgeously soft, her breasts firmer than any she had caressed in a long time, her bottom deliciously kissable and her vagina so young and tight that Terri’s tongue almost had to force its way in. And Marilyn’s muscles made Terri feel that her tongue was being pulled right up into her vagina. Terri had never thrilled at soixante-neuf so much as with Marilyn. She would happily have stayed in that position for hours, giving Marilyn pleasure and tasting her sweet juices while encouraging Marilyn to do the same to her.
Just thinking about how wonderful it had been that first night softened her towards Marilyn. But it also made her even more aware of the dampness between her legs.
“Maybe when we get to the service station we could find a dark corner and get in the back of the car for a little while?” she suggested.
“Are you kidding? After being so horrible to me, you expect to eat pussy? You’ve got a bloody nerve. You’re always the same. You deliberately start an argument and then you expect sex afterwards!”
“Please, Lyn, I need something, even if it’s only a loving finger.”
“No way!”
She had not told Marilyn how their arguments aroused her; she had always felt slightly ashamed of the fact. In all her forty years, Terri had never experienced such strange emotions before and she was confused by them. Marilyn was nearly twenty years younger than her and was undeniably difficult but Terri knew that the arguments were her own fault as well. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she seemed to need them.
Initially, she had thought she was in love with Marilyn, and she had wanted her to move in with her, but Marilyn wouldn’t; she had said she wanted to retain her independence. And after a while Terri was glad of that. She realised that what she had taken for love had in fact been lust. She didn’t mind – she was still having sex with someone twenty years younger than she was – but she knew it couldn’t last. And the arguments worried her; it didn’t seem right to be aroused by arguments.
“You’ll do something else to start an argument before long, I know you will. You always do! I wouldn’t mind betting you’ve even brought that stupid flute with you.”
Despite herself, Terri smiled. There was no denying that she had provoked that particular argument. It had been a Sunday afternoon. They had been out for a lunchtime drink. Terri had wanted Marilyn to go to bed with her but Marilyn had gone into the living room to practise her yoga. Terri sat on the bed and began playing her recently acquired flute – even though she knew Marilyn hated the noise it made.
“What d’you think you’re doing?” Marilyn said, coming into the bedroom.
“I’m playing my flute.” She smiled. “Why?”
“Why? Because I’m trying to relax, that’s why. How can I do my yoga when you’re making that horrible noise? I’m trying to concentrate.”
Marilyn’s anger had made Terri want her more than ever.
“Why don’t you concentrate on me instead? Come on, come and have sex with me and I’ll leave you alone to practise your yoga afterwards.”
“No!”
“All right, I’ll carry on playing, then.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, don’t be stupid.”
Terri had resumed playing. Marilyn had tried to snatch the flute away. Terri had then began shouting at her for damaging the flute and the argument had raged. Eventually, Marilyn had flopped reluctantly yet submissively onto the bed, where she had tried to stay aloof to show her irritation But Terri went down on her and soon got her excited and involved. Terri knew that no woman was going to stay aloof with her tongue working between their legs.
Although Marilyn had refused to move in with her, she stayed with Terri most nights. It was six weeks after they had met that Annie, Terri’s best and oldest friend, was passing through town and came over for a meal.. Terri cooked for the three of them. She had always got on exceptionally well with Annie and she was delighted that she was meeting her other favourite person. Unfortunately, Marilyn was in one of her petulant moods and at ten o’clock she went upstairs to practise her yoga. Annie and Terri stayed down in the kitchen to talk and laugh and to remember old times. Fifteen minutes later, Marilyn reappeared.
“Are you two planning on keeping up this noise for long?”
“What noise? We’re only talking,” Terri said
“Talking? You sound like a couple of braying donkeys. If you’re going to make this sort of noise, I’m not going to stay here in future! You shouldn’t have friends here when I’m here.”
Annie said she’d leave. Terri was mortified. She followed Annie to the door in an embarrassed silence and then went upstairs to have a blazing row with Marilyn. She told her never to dare be so rude to one of her friends again. Terri couldn’t remember ever having been so angry. But Marilyn was equal to her, insisting that Terri had ignored her all evening in favour of Annie. They were both shouting and screaming at each other and in the middle of all the noise Terri’s whole body was aching for sex. That evening their sexual endeavours reached new heights. They had been locked so hard in their favourite soixante-neuf position that Terri felt they had become a single entity. By the time they finished, Terri’s face was drenched with Marilyn’s sweet juices.
Now Terri felt wet at the thought of that night. Then she looked sideways at Marilyn’s stony face.
The service area was ahead.
“You should be in the nearside lane,” Marilyn said.
Terri signalled and pulled off the motorway.
“I’m going to have a coffee with my cigarette,” Marilyn said, getting out at the service area.
“Okay. I’ll go and fill up. I’ll see you back here when you’re ready.”
She watched Marilyn walking to the shop in her high heels and she smiled wearily at the movement it created in Marilyn’s lovely little bottom.
After two hours of argument and arousal without any satisfaction, Terri was suddenly exhausted; she felt as though she’d been on a sexual helter-skelter. She could see Marilyn in the shop; she looked as though she were arguing with the shop girl. Terri smiled again. It made her feel better to see Marilyn in a bad mood with someone else.
Terri drove to the petrol pumps, but while she was filling up with petrol, in her mind she began ano
ther argument with Marilyn. She often found herself having pretend arguments with her these days. It was either sex or arguments, real or pretend, there didn’t seem to be anything normal in their relationship. Sometimes, she even imagined herself having an argument during sex; even with her head between Marilyn’s legs and while she was teasing her clitoris with the tip of her tongue she would imagine herself arguing. Once she had got so carried away with a pretend argument that she had bitten the inside of Marilyn’s thigh in her anger. It was almost as though sex stimulated the arguments as well as the arguments stimulating the sex. She wished it wasn’t so.
Right now she was defending herself and attacking Marilyn even more vociferously than in one of their real arguments. She was telling her that things could not go on as they were and that she was thinking of ending it. Marilyn said she didn’t care because she’d never liked her anyway.
By the time Terri got back in the car, the argument was raging furiously inside her head. But also she was sexually aroused. She couldn’t believe how much the make-believe argument was arousing her. She had to undo her jeans and put her fingers in to her vagina. She was having difficulty not vocalizing her anger. She continued playing with herself. This was just the relief that needed.
She was still arguing as she had an orgasm. She collapsed onto the steering wheel. After a moment, she started the engine and put the car into gear. Without thinking what she was doing, she found herself driving back onto the motorway. Only when she was filtering into the main stream of traffic did she realize what she had done.
“Oh God. Marilyn!”
She felt a moment of panic. Then she laughed. What an idiot she was. She wondered if Marilyn would see the funny side of it. Would she tell her about the argument, the sex or just the forgetfulness? Maybe just the forgetfulness. She didn’t know how long it would take to get back to the service station. It would probably be half an hour or so. Marilyn would have long since finished her cigarette and be searching for her. She would probably think she had done it deliberately. She’d be really pissed off. Did that mean she would start an argument?
The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica Page 60
