The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (31 page)

She was slick and hot. She tried to spread her thighs but I held her ankles tight, keeping her feet pinned to the bed. It was an arousing picture. Her arms were tied crucifix style, her hair
flowed across the pillow like ink, and her nipples showed sharply through the tunic. Her body twisted sharply at the waist, where the yellow fabric was rucked up to reveal her legs. Her knees were
bent and almost touching her left arm and her feet, still in ballet pumps, were kicking against my hand.

“Please,” she said.

I grinned and looked at my watch again, before taking her top ankle with my free hand. I separated her legs and pressed them to the bed. Immediately her hips lifted, just as I’d guessed
they would. I ran my tongue along her slit, tasting her without opening her. She tasted sweet, an almond flavour. The first time I’d mouth-fucked her, I’d wondered if she used some kind
of lube or lotion but that was simply how she was – her juices were addictively good.

Now my tongue probed her, feeling soft flesh, dipping deep and feeling her body responding, every muscle rising, like a flower turning to the sun. I held her on the edge of orgasm, pulling my
mouth away whenever she got too close, before lowering it again to her keep her simmering. Soon she began to curse me, then she moved into begging and finally she became completely incoherent,
moaning and shaking her head. She was so lost in pleasure that I envied her. I lifted my hands from her ankles and she didn’t move, as though the need for orgasm had pinned her down. I took a
final look at my watch, and stood up.

“Anna?”

She groaned. I bent and untied her hands.

“You’ve got five minutes to get dressed and down to the lobby for the shuttle bus to the airport. If you miss it, you’ll be late for work – there isn’t another one
for half an hour.”

She groaned again, reaching down to bring herself off. I stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

“Four minutes, or you’ll be very late for work,” I said. “And next time don’t spoil things, Anna. Remember to stay in character.”

Now she realized I was serious. She grabbed the sash and tried to tie it, but her hands shook too much, so she bundled it up and carried it. I pointed to the mirror and she saw the mess her hair
was in. She was still trying to rake it into shape as we ran out of the lobby. I flagged down the shuttle and waved goodbye to her.

Did Anna truly have what it took? Okay she was a dirty-minded girl, wandering around the airport with a naked ass, and she loved to fuck, but real adventure took a wildness she hadn’t
shown yet. In fact, if I hadn’t been asked to cover somebody else’s holiday shifts last month, I’d never have noticed her. Working in her part of the airport for a fortnight had
gradually brought her into focus. Low key, that’s what she was, I decided.

I took a taxi back to the airport and sat in the bar again. Anna passed and re-passed, looking crumpled, never acknowledging me, until her break. She headed for the Calvin Klein shop. I threw
down my drink and followed.

She waved at the girl behind the shop counter and went into a changing cubicle. I flashed my airport ID and followed. Anna was ready for me. As soon as I pulled the louver door shut, she pushed
her hand under my skirt, grasping my pubes and tugging gently, before slipping two fingers into me. I turned her to face the mirror and pushed up the tunic, so I could watch as I hand-fucked her.
It wasn’t easy, both of us competing to make the other come first, and both watching in the mirror. Remaining silent was almost impossible. Anna was on tiptoe, like she always was when we
fucked standing up, her leg muscles bunched up like a ballerina’s. I was fighting to stay in control, but seeing her fingers jamming into me, while mine worked into her, was crazy. We were so
different; she pushed her hips forward, her head whipped around, her free hand pushed hard on her mons, trying to feel my fingers inside her. I squeezed my thighs around her hand, my head tipped
backwards as I got closer to coming, and with my free hand I tweaked my nipples, hard. When she came, she sank her teeth into my shoulder to stop yelling out. When I came, I bit my tongue for the
same reason.

We must have both failed to be silent because the girl behind the counter was wide-eyed when we exited, giggling and rosy-faced. I swatted Anna on the backside and headed out of the mall.

Back at the hotel I laid out my toys – a CD player, a glass dildo, lubricant and some bondage tape. I used my master key-card to open the next room and stole its ice-bucket, checking the
ice-machine in the hall was operational. Then I waited for Anna to finish her shift.

Her knock at the door was tentative. She must be worried about I had planned for her.

When she saw the dildo she gasped. It was a beautiful long, fat device, with seven ridged rings of coloured glass dividing the clear glass sections. Each ring was a different rainbow colour and
with the tip and the final section, the whole device added up to nine and a half inches of elegant heaven. I stood behind her, tugging on the silk sash which by now was as crumpled as old wrapping
paper. As soon as it was free, she began to unbutton the tunic. When it was open she tried to turn to face me, but I held her still and wound the silk sash around her eyes, making a blindfold,
being careful to cover her ears with several layers of the cloth. I turned her gently and pushed the tunic away until she was naked. I slid my hands over her shoulders and high breasts, her slim
waist and gently curving stomach before hooking my fingers into her vagina and feeling her wetness. She gasped. I pushed her onto the bed where she immediately spread her legs wide and held her
labia open with both hands, inviting me to take her.

I picked up the dildo and put it down again. Anna was wet enough but I wanted her so slick that I could get the whole thing inside her as fast as blinking. I picked up the lubricant and began to
coat her dark lips and inner contours with it. Her hands began to help, sliding over her flesh in time with mine. I moved my hands away and placed the dildo in the ice-bucket of warm water that
stood ready. I pushed her hands over her head.

“If those hands move an inch, Anna, then I’m going to stop, and nothing in the world, no amount of begging and pleading, will make me start again. Understand?”

“Yes, whatever you say, anything you want. I understand.”

She didn’t of course, she had no idea what was coming next, but once she’d promised I knew she’d do what she’d said.

When I slid the glass shaft into her, she moaned with pleasure. I pumped her half a dozen times, just enough to get her hips bucking against its hot surface, then took it away again, circling
her clitoris with my forefinger while I pushed the dildo deep into the ice in the other bucket. This time when the glass penetrated her she gasped – the cold was a total surprise – but
the shape of it was what she craved, so she was perfectly balanced between pleasure and shock. She couldn’t put her hands down to feel the dildo as it approached her, and so she was doubly
agonized, the uncertainty and the need to keep to the promise she’d made. Delicious.

I alternated again and again, never letting her guess what was coming next. Sometimes it was cold twice in a row, sometimes heat. I was careful to make sure the music on my little CD player was
loud enough to cover the sound of the ice crashing around, but between the silk over her ears and the moaning and begging she was doing, she probably wouldn’t have heard anyway. Finally I let
her come – this time she didn’t have to stay quiet and she screamed her pleasure out loud.

I looked at the bondage tape, then at my watch. I was nearly out of time, but there were still just enough minutes left to drive her crazy. I lifted the blindfold to her forehead so she could
see me, and kissed her briefly. Then I pulled her arms to her sides and rolled her one way and then the other, binding her wrists to her thighs and her upper arms to her shoulders. Her small
breasts were pushed upwards by the tape to give her a tiny cleavage, into which I dripped lubricant. I slid the dildo into the narrow gap between her breasts, forcing them apart, and moved it
gently against her as I straddled her, lowering my lips to her nipples and teasing them with my tongue and teeth. She began to whimper. I pushed her breasts closer together over the dildo, pinching
and rolling her nipples between my fingers, then straightened up and pushed the dildo, heated by her skin, straight into my own cleft. I felt her head lift as she watched me begin to thrust the
shaft deeper into myself, pumping it hard. Her vision was limited by the skirt, which fell across my body and hers, so what little she could see was dark – for example she couldn’t know
yet that I’d bleached my pubes too, so that they were the pure white of spun sugar. That was a surprise for later.

For now, all she knew was that she could see a little and touch nothing and that my orgasm was approaching so fast that in a few moments I would come. Just before I did, I reached out with my
free hand and pulled down the blindfold again so that she couldn’t see a thing. I heard her groan of disappointment mingle with my own moans of pleasure as the hot glass brought me to a peak
of pleasure that left me panting and exhausted above her. Slowly I slid the dildo out of myself, feeling my vaginal walls contract around it, trying to hold on to the sheer slippery sides,
unwilling to let go of this instrument of pleasure. But they had to. I had to. It was my turn to be due at work in thirty minutes.

I lifted the blindfold again and kissed her much more slowly, as I unpicked the bondage tape that had held her quiescent beneath me. She responded by digging her nails into my back, trying to
pull me down on top of her. I was tempted, but I didn’t have the time.

She sat up as I moved to the wardrobe. I knew she was watching, so I made a little show of taking off the designer gear and folding it into my briefcase before I pulled my work blues from the
rail. I kept my back to her though, wanting those candy-floss blonde pubes to be a treat she hadn’t been prepared for.

Anna loves a woman in uniform. She likes my security kit so much, she’s managed to fuck herself with my extendable truncheon and the day I gave her a walkie-talkie tuned to the same
frequency as mine, she talked so dirty to me at work, I locked myself in the custody room to masturbate.

She was biting her lip. I put on my cap and adjusted it, watching her in the mirror.

“I haven’t forgotten our deal, Bev,” she said. “Thank you for this amazing anniversary. I know next month it’s my turn to help you celebrate our getting
together.”

I nodded. When I’m in uniform Anna likes me stern and silent. I could tell by her taut nipples that she was turned on all over again.

“I promise you, Bev, that when it’s my turn to come up with an adventure, I’ll do something totally outrageous.”

I let her see doubt in my face. I really didn’t think she’d got what it took to play this kind of game. It was a pity, but there it was. Real adventure requires a certain kind of
spirit, a willingness to take risks, and I still didn’t think Anna was equal to the kind of demands that would make on her.

I took the shuttle back to work. After a while I was called to a passenger who’d locked herself in a toilet cubicle. When I got there, one of my male colleagues was outside. Apparently
he’d tried to help, but she’d yelled her head off about a man being in the “ladies”. I grinned, mock-saluted and headed inside.

There were women all over the place, with bags and cases and duty-free shopping. I located the cubicle, and pushed the door. To my surprise it opened a little before being blocked by the soft
pressure of a body.

“Hello?” I said.

“My hand is stuck in the toilet-roll dispenser,” said a heavily accented voice. It didn’t fool me though – the accent was good, but the voice was unmistakably
Anna’s.

I squeezed through the gap. She was standing with one foot on the closed toilet seat, tunic hiked up again. As soon as she saw me, she thrust her fingers deep into her slit, and began to yell
and moan at full volume. I could hear the women crowding around the door.

“Anna, stop it!” I hissed.

She grinned. “Play along, it’s a game,” she said.

I couldn’t help grinning back. So while she brought herself off loudly, I interjected comments like, “Nearly there madam, sorry about the pain,” and, “Okay if you can
just bend your fingers a bit I think we’ll soon have you out of here,” until she’d come.

I led her out, into a circle of awed, chattering women. She shook her hand as though it hurt and clutched at me.

“Thank you officer,” she said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” Then she winked.

I continued my rounds with a smile on my face. I’d misjudged her. I couldn’t wait for my adventure in a month’s time – Anna was well up for it!

Bringing Back the Light

Sophie Mouette

We were in the kitchen, lingering over empty bowls that had held minestrone, watching snowflakes waft promisingly downward and then evaporate upon hitting the muddy ground,
when Gail asked, “So, are you coming to my parents’ on Christmas?”

I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Not sure, yet. I appreciate the invitation, but . . .”

Gail came around behind my chair and kissed the top of my head. “But the commercial holiday with the cast-of-thousands thing isn’t to your taste? It’s not really mine, either,
but it’s my parents and my three siblings and their spouses and their kids. That makes it a little easier.”

She sighed. “Would you believe Brett’s letter to Santa this year was three pages long?”

“Big handwriting?” Brett was her seven-year-old son.

“He used my dad’s computer to make sure Santa could read it! And most of the stuff on it is either TV tie-ins or war toys.” She shrugged. “What can you do? It’s not
like I can separate him from the world.”

I leaned back against her. “Even if you did, it wouldn’t help. When I was Brett’s age, my parents were living off the grid up in the Cascades and home-schooling me.”
Which Gail probably had guessed, me having a name like Yarrow Dragonwind. “My grandmother sent me Barbies and I got hooked on them.”