The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (39 page)

“That will give you a smile. Now shut up; I’m going to give you the fuck of your lifetime.” Abbie stood close behind Jo, and with a gentle hand slipped the cock inside
Jo’s sopping wet pussy. Jo drew breath sharply and then moaned as the hard rubber buried deeper inside her. Abbie rested her body against Jo’s back and reached around her torso to
fondle her breasts. The dildo now fully inside her, Jo tried to rock her hips to begin the pleasure but with Abbie’s weight against her back and her hands held firmly around her breasts, she
could get no movement going.

“Wait!” Abbie ordered, as she gently kissed her way along Jo’s spine. When she got as far as she could reach, she drew back her hips pulling the dildo from inside Jo and then
slowly thrusting it back inside her. Jo’s back arched as Abbie continued to glide the strap-on in and out of her lover’s wet pussy. The squelching it made as it slipped in and out of
the warm moist hole almost made Jo giggle, but she was focusing on the fantastic sensation that the knobbles on the cock were having on the inside of her pussy. Her G-spot was being stimulated like
she had never experienced before. Abbie moved her hips from a slow gentle rock to a faster thrust as Jo bounced up and down towards Abbie, their sweaty bodies slapping as Jo’s rump hit
Abbie’s stomach with quite a force.

Jo’s breathing was becoming faster and she could feel the pleasure building in her pussy, her clitoris throbbing for attention.

“Turn me over,” she breathed to Abbie, who withdrew far enough to allow Jo to turn onto her arse. Abbie pushed her lover’s legs apart, Jo sticking her feet into the stirrups of
the couch for more leverage. Abbie dived to her knees and eagerly began lapping at Jo’s swollen clitoris with her tongue, Jo pushing Abbie’s head into her pussy so hard that it was a
miracle she could breathe let alone continue to suck and lick Jo’s rock hard clit.

Jo’s thrusting became wild as she continued towards the orgasm the dildo had started. Abbie anticipated the coming climax and, just as Jo was on the verge of the abyss, Abbie jumped to her
feet and plunged the dildo into her mate, eagerly rubbing her clit with her thumb as she began to again pump the cock deep in and out of her lover’s tightening pussy. Jo’s moaning
turned into screams as her orgasm spread through her body and her pussy juice squirted from inside her over Abbie’s sweat glistening stomach.

As Abbie withdrew the cock, Jo collapsed back against the therapy couch. When her partner’s hands fell from the bed to dangle limply at her side, Abbie played a tender kiss on Jo’s
forehead. Jo opened her eyes to look at her lover.

Whilst Jo recovered, Abbie moved to the sink and cleaned the dildo before returning it and the lube to her handbag.

“Oh, God!”

“What?”

“Unbelievable,” was all Jo could mumble as she crept behind Abbie and placed her hands around her waist. She planted tender kisses on her neck affectionately.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Abbie smiled as she turned to face her partner.

The two women shared a deep passionate kiss and enjoyed the moment together.

As Abbie freshened up at the sink, Jo hunted around the room for her scattered underwear. When Abbie was finished, she and Jo returned the furnishings to their original condition and positions.
For the last ten minutes of their lunch break, the women snuggled up on the daybed and basked in their respective after-sex glow.

The girls had just enough time to straighten their uniforms and tidy themselves up before they could hear another member of staff calling for Jo. Jo stepped out of the therapy room, trying to
get the agency staff away from the door, leaving Abbie skulking behind it.

“There’s a gentleman and his carer at the door. A Mr Dunbar? Says he has an appointment,” Grace said, looking a little vague.

“Show me to him,” Jo said, taking Grace by the arm and leading her off to the visitor’s room where Mr Dunbar was waiting in his wheelchair.

“Good afternoon, Mr Dunbar. Do you remember me?” Mr Dunbar nodded. “Hello there, Miss Dunbar. I’m the Matron or you can call me Jo, if you prefer. Your key person will be
Nurse Spencer, or Abbie. She is just finishing her lunch break, she will join us shortly.” Just as Jo uttered the words, Abbie came into the visitor’s room behind her.

“Abbie, you’re just in time! Mr Dunbar, this is Abbie, Abbie, this is Mr James Dunbar and his daughter Rebecca.”

The pleasantries were exchanged and Abbie sat directly in the seat to the left of the door. A brief chat and some paperwork completed, Abbie felt she had hit it off perfectly with James Dunbar
or Jimmy as he preferred to be called. His daughter wasn’t bad either, kind of pretty in a very innocent way. Abbie had noticed the glances Rebecca had been sending her and that Jo
hadn’t witnessed those, or indeed the looks she had been giving back. With an hour of exhausting and energetic sex, followed by an immediate return to arousal, Abbie felt she was in dire need
of refreshment and was glad when Jo suggested she took the visitors into the conservatory for afternoon tea.

Jo excused herself first and headed off to her office to file the paperwork but was brought back to the corridor by a loud scream followed by a dirty-sounding laugh. When she turned the corner
into the corridor she found Abbie pressed against the wall, Mr Dunbar rubbing his hands with delight and his daughter looking quite red.

“What’s happened?” Jo asked, eager to get to the bottom of the problem.

“I’m going to like it here,” Mr Dunbar exclaimed with glee, “especially if I’m going to get this welcome every day.”

Jo looked on in bewilderment. Seeing their confusion, Rebecca made a twirling motion in the air, prompting Abbie to turn around and Mr Dunbar to again give the dirty laugh.

Much to Jo’s arousal and Abbie’s horror, in her hurry to dress Abbie had tucked her uniform into her suspender belt and her stockings and panties were on show at the back, and the
smell of sex coming from her panties was overwhelming.

“Oh! How embarrassing! I’m terribly sorry.” Abbie blushed profusely.

“Not a problem, my dear,” smirked Mr Dunbar. “You dirty girl!” He patted his lap, adjusted his manhood and indicated for Abbie to hop on.

Queen High Flush

Pam Graham

Six players, actually four players and two con artists, sat at the number eight poker table. From the dealer’s left they included the middle-aged blond guy with inflated
muscles and a mechanic’s fingernail woes, the Air Force lieutenant who surely chose to wear that uniform out of some misguided hope it might distract the other players, the cowboy who cleaned
up real nice, the elegant blonde who had picked him up in the restaurant earlier, the grandfather wearing a blue silk shirt, and the warrior princess who stacked and re-stacked her chips to hide
her fascination with the blonde.

Inwardly noting that this appeared to be a harmless bunch, the dealer settled on private names for them all. The men were a simple matter. They’d be Michelin Man, Fly Guy, Cowboy and
Gramps. But the women. The blonde was all smooth coolness and light, and the sight of her made you hope for a creamy centre. Yes, she would be Cream. That left the tall and intense goddess who sat
just to the dealer’s right. Aphrodite might work.

The dealer shuffled the deck while going over the house rules and ended with, “So, this table features a variation of seven-card stud with no raise limit. You’ll get your first card
down, then four facing up, and finish the deal with two additional hole cards. Everybody gets to see four of your cards, but the privilege of looking at those other three is yours alone. Are we
ready to begin, ladies and gentlemen? Okay then.”

Cowboy took the first pot, and as he pulled in his winning chips, Fly Guy said, “Starting off right, I’d say.”

Grinning at Cream, Cowboy said, “Already started off nice, before the game even got going.” He’d told everybody how they’d just met that night and had dinner
together.

It was against hotel policy to roll your eyes at the guests’ comments, but the dealer really wanted to. Aphrodite did it for both of them. She sighed too, with an impatient grunt at the
end.

The next hand got interesting as a battle of raises developed between Michelin Man and Gramps. By the fifth card they were the only two left in, which made way for Aphrodite to develop some
brazen eye contact with Cream. To her credit, Cream weathered the barefaced come-on with an aplomb that Cowboy openly approved of.

Aphrodite got quite a nice hand and won the next pot, but she didn’t capitalize enough on two tens in the hole to go with the one she had showing. Sitting on something like that, she
should have done some moderate raising. The dealer diagnosed that lapse as Cream fever.

Half an hour later, Cream still hadn’t won a pot. She didn’t have much showing, but started raising on the fourth card. Everybody got wary since it was the first hand she’d put
anything behind. When she pushed three hundred dollars to the center after getting a look at her fifth card, all but Aphrodite folded.

Aphrodite smiled as she slid her chips forward, and without another glance at her hole cards she winked at Cream and said, “Call you, and let’s make it worth our while with three
hundred more.”

Cream peeked at her down card and stayed.

When she saw her sixth card, which was dealt face down, Cream seemed to be suppressing a smile. “Five hundred.”

Aphrodite was wearing a matte black jumpsuit zipped to a level that showed little cleavage unless she leaned over. She laid her hole cards in front of her and placed an elbow on either side of
them. Then she shifted forward until she was certain Cream had a good view and said from somewhere deep down in that jumpsuit, “I’m in.”

The dealer marked this moment as a turning point in the dynamic. Cream was beginning to unravel.

The seventh card didn’t seem to interest either woman. They’d apparently built their hands on the first six.

Cream continued to exhibit great faith in what she was holding. And her composure was back in place. She looked directly at Aphrodite. “One thousand.”

As Aphrodite counted chips, she cordially said, “A bargain at any price – to get to see yours.” Then she forwarded a second stack. “And how badly do you want to see mine?
One thousand more.”

Cream steadied herself by gripping Cowboy’s forearm with one hand as she put in her thousand with the other, which was shaking, the dealer couldn’t help but notice.

Aphrodite somehow transformed the act of turning up her cards into a sensual experience. Cream tried to dispel that effect by carelessly flinging hers to the middle of the table. Neither hand
was much good. They had boosted the pot to over five thousand dollars on three nines and two pairs. Cream won it with the three nines.

Cream wasn’t much of a force during the hand after that, and when it was over she excused herself for a few minutes.

Aphrodite stayed long enough to ante and look at three cards in the following hand before folding and getting up. She addressed herself to Cowboy. “Think I need to powder my nose,
too.”

At a discreet distance, Jacka followed Margaret to her room and, after checking that no one had tailed them, she slipped in the door.

Wide-eyed, Margaret said in the most controlled voice she could muster, “This is going to work, you know.”

Jacka twirled her way to the bed and bounced on it hard. “Jesus Christ! It is.”

“And not only that, my darling, it’s turning out to be fun. I mean, I wasn’t all that nervous once we got started, were you? And the patsies are just normal people.”
Margaret looked down at Jacka all kicked back on the bed, and then at her own dress and heels. “Next time I get to be the butch and you get to wear the dress.”

Jacka hopped to her feet. “Be happy to, sweetheart. But let’s not call them patsies. Isn’t the term ’marks’? Aren’t they our marks?”

“We’ll have to look that up on the Net. Even if it is marks, though, I don’t think we should call them that because of my brother Mark.”

“Oh, right. Same thing with patsies for me, because of Patsy Cline.”

“Didn’t think about that. We’ll look it up.” Margaret checked her new fancy watch. “So, if we stick to our plan to be gone for twenty minutes, we’ve got
fourteen left. Now, let’s go over everything real quick.”

Jacka laced her hands behind Margaret’s back and swayed gently. “When we return to the table, you’ll look flustered and uncertain. I’ll look like the pussy that swallowed
the canary.”

“Yep. Then as soon as we both get a couple of barely worthwhile hands, we get into another unrealistic raising duel. That first one worked so perfectly. Did you see the looks on their
faces when we showed our pitiful cards?”

“I was afraid to look at their faces. Okay, so we repeat that little operation. And I think everybody
will be
afraid to stay with us again, especially if we raise big enough and
none of them has an extremely great hand. One more of those and we go in for the kill. The third time, when one of us is holding an actual first-class hand, they’ll be so convinced
we’re playing with some organ other than our brains, a couple of them should stay right with us, no matter how high we raise.” Jacka checked the time before slipping her hand under
Margaret’s dress and running it between her thighs. “Eleven minutes to worship the panty hose goddess.”

Margaret opened her legs a little and Jacka traced figure eights around the crotch seam. “Tickle me just like that. Mmm.” Margaret stepped backward so she could brace herself on the
dresser and present herself better.

Jacka’s fingers stopped. “Oh, no you don’t. First day in our new careers and you want to take a chance on messing it up by fooling around?”

Margaret encouraged Jacka’s hand back into action. “I’m supposed to look flustered, remember?”

“Flustered, not satisfied.” Before resuming the lazy eights, Jacka delicately pinched at the silky material in the spot where it was getting damp.

“I won’t come, promise.”

A few minutes later, Margaret was ducking out the door, looking undone indeed. “Get to the table several seconds after me.”