Lesbian Shorts Read online

  Title page

  LESBIAN SHORTS

  Explorations in Lesbian loving

  A Collection Of Six Erotic Stories

  By

  Carla Blake

  Publisher Information

  Lesbian Shorts published in 2010 by

  Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © Carla Blake

  The right of Carla Blake to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Coming Clean

  Jo could hear her downstairs. Starting with the sound of the back door opening, the hinges they’d always said they would get round to oiling, but never had, creaking in protest. This was followed by two dull thumps Jo instantly recognized as Emma taking off her boots and letting them fall to the floor.

  Emma has been out to the shed, Jo thinks, probably putting stuff away. She listens again but hears nothing but an expectant silence that tells her Emma is quietly padding across the tiled kitchen floor, in just her socks, to the foot of the stairs.

  “Jo? You up there?”

  Jo smiles at the sound of Emma’s voice. She can picture her so clearly. One hand clasped on the recently stripped wooden banister, the other probably anchored on her hip. She’d be dressed in her old decorating clothes as well, the ones she keeps for just such a purpose. Her tatty jeans ripped across the left knee, her sweatshirt stained with a veritable palette of paint, together with odd bleached areas where she has got a little over zealous with the white spirit whilst cleaning brushes and slopped some down herself. She still looks amazing though. Only Emma, in Jo’s opinion, can look such a mess and be totally and utterly adorable all at the same time.

  Jo imagines the late afternoon sun is probably coming into the house now as well, its mellow light streaming through the glass in the front door to leave a warm, cosy strip across the carpet.

  She doubts if Emma’s feet are feeling it though, they’re probably just out of range, but if she steps back, just one step, she will get the benefit. A lovely puddle of heat that whenever Jo has stepped into it has never failed to want to wriggle her toes and giggle.

  Emma’s voice comes again. This time tinged with impatience. “ Jo! You up there or not? Answer me, you cow.”

  Such a lovely turn of phase, Jo thinks. How can anyone not love someone as eloquent as that?

  “I’m here.” Jo calls back “Running you a bath, you ungrateful wretch!”

  The sound of feet, trotting up the stairs, follows this statement. The last tread groaning as if Emma’s weight is just too much to bear.

  Then Emma is at the bathroom door. Scruffy and disheveled with paint all over her hands and knees and bizarrely, across her nose.

  “What have you been doing?” Jo asks, indicating the splash of pure white across Emma’s skin. “Thought you were only papering today?”

  Emma rubs at the offending smudge. “Yeah I was.” She smiles. “But I got bored so I thought I’d have a go at the skirting boards. God, this house! Never thought it would be such a bugger to knock into shape. A little work the Estate Agent said. A little! Not a huge project that’s entirely going to take over your life for months to come. Christ, I’d hate to think what he considers a lot of work!”

  “I know.” Jo sighs. “But it’ll be worth it in the end. And look how well it’s scrubbed up so far. The floors are all solid wood, none of that cheap rubbish. And what about that fireplace?”

  “Hey, I’m sold already.” Emma laughs. “There’s no need to preach to me. I’m here. I’m decorating. And I’m loving it. There’s just so much more to do!”

  “True, but don’t think about that now. At least the bathroom’s finished. And voila madam. Your bath awaits.”

  Jo is already in it. Her clothes neatly folded on the chair in the bedroom. Emma’s will not be following suit. She’ll take off her clothes where she stands and let them drop to the floor, not giving them a second thought. It’s not unusual for Emma’s laundry to lie there several days before Jo gets fed up and dumps it in the basket.

  The bath is full of bubbles which threaten to spill over the top and their soft fragrance fills the air with the scent of Dewberry. The bathroom is beautifully warm thanks to new central heating and the towels are warming on a heated rack.

  Jo has also drawn the shades in anticipation and lit candles, dozens of tiny tea lights that she has arranged around the room in small clusters to cast flickering shadows upon the white walls and pale blue tiles.

  Emma smiles at her. “You are so good to me.” She says, reaching for the zip on her jeans. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

  Jo raises an eyebrow. “It’s what you’re going to do, that matters.” She grins. “And don’t get undressed in here, babe, change in the bedroom. You know how much I like that.”

  “Ok sweetie.” Emma says and disappears out of the room whilst Jo slips under the foam. Her body already feels ten times softer than when she first got in and she runs her left foot down her right leg, savouring the way her toes meet little resistance. Smiling, she blows the bubbles off her right breast and watches the nipple grow hard in the sudden chill air.

  Emma returns, having, no doubt, deposited her clothes on the bedroom floor. Now she is dressed in the huge, fluffy white bathrobe Jo bought her for Christmas last year.

  The paint is also gone from her nose. Her fingers, however, still show signs of her less than careful painting and she will claim, if Jo questions it, that painting hasn’t been done properly unless there are visible signs of it upon your person.

  She does talk some crap sometimes.

  From her place wallowing in the warm, soapy water, Jo gestures for Emma to draw closer. Bubbles cascade lazily from her hand as she beckons.

  “Let me see.” She says.

  “Of course”, Emma replies, biting her lower lip as she slowly undoes the tie that is holding the robe together and allows the sides to fall away to reveal she is naked beneath.

  Jo sighs in appreciation. “You’re lovely.” She says. “I mean it.”

  The sight of Emma’s body never fails to take her breath away. She is so unlike her.

  Her family are from Irish stock and she has the dark hair and the green eyes, so reminiscent of the inhabitants of the Emerald Isle. These are features she doesn’t mind at all, but the pale skin and freckles that have haunted her family for generations are a pet hate of hers and she so wishes she could somehow get rid of them.

  Emma, however, disagrees and thinks they’re gorgeous and in bed, one of her favourite pastimes is to play join-the dots- using her finger and sometimes her tongue.

  It’s the only time Jo can tolerate the frenzy of pale brown speckles that adorn her skin.

  Emma’s skin doesn’t have a freckle in sight. Instead it is almost permanently brown, the result of spending every summer out in the sun. Emma doesn’t like to be indoors and insists that being confined to four walls not only makes her feel cooped up and like she wants to bang her head against something hard, but like she can’t breath. As a consequence, she’s out in the sun the moment it put
s in an appearance. Thus, her skin is never white, not even in winter. When everyone else is as pale as a sheet, Emma is still able to peel away the collar of her sweater and reveal a faint but undeniable white mark where her bikini strap has resided for most of the summer. Beneath her watch strap, the skin is even paler.

  Jo would kill to have a complexion like that.

  “Come here.”

  Jo calls her over and Emma moves towards her. Her breasts are pert and her nipples dark. The soft fluff that nestles between her legs is neatly trimmed and hides the first delicious swelling of desire.

  She stops at the edge of the tub and waits for Jo to sit upright. When she does bubbles drift slowly from her breasts to pool at her lap and a shiver of goose bumps march up her arms even though the room is warm. Still dripping, her hand reaches over the side of the bath to caress Emma’s leg. Water now drips on her feet, but she moves closer still, putting herself within easy reaching distance and inviting her lover’s touch. Jo does not disappoint and when, without warning, she gently slides a finger across Emma’s pussy and into her cunt, Emma shudders with delight. Her muscles clenching deliciously as the first ripple of pleasure swells deep within her.

  But now Emma is impaled and when Jo moves her arm up higher, she is forced to stand on tiptoe, soft moans escaping her as Jo works her finger in and out of Emma’s cunt and leaves Emma’s insides as wet as the water Jo is lying in.

  “Please.” Emma gasps and reaching between her own legs folds her hands over Jo’s, forcing her girlfriend’s finger to penetrate even deeper. “Please. I want to come.”

  “You will.” Jo says. “But not yet.” And she withdraws her finger, pulling it away to leave Emma gasping and hanging on to the edge of the tub, her knees hardly strong enough to support her weight whilst her cunt throbs and pulls, searching for another way to quench its wanton desire.

  “God.” Emma groans, recovering enough to look up and pull a face. “How can you do this to me? You’re so cruel.”

  “Only if I don’t intend to finish the job!” Jo says and grins at her girlfriend’s disgruntled expression. “And I fully intend to do that. Now are you going to get in or are you going to stand there all day looking gorgeous?”

  Emma climbs into the bath. Jo is sitting at the end without taps. A situation which ordinarily would have meant Emma would have had to endure them digging into her back, except today it doesn’t matter. Today Emma slides beneath the warm bubbles and settles herself between her lover’s thighs. Her sigh says it all.

  As does Jo’s, who gripping Emma’s sides with her legs, holds her secure.

  “Lovely.” She breathes into Emma’s ear as Emma gets herself settled. “I love having you between my thighs.”

  She can’t remember when she first suggested they do this, or when she first whispered into Emma’s ear that she wanted to hold her between her legs and soap her breasts.

  But it makes her wet just thinking about it.

  And practically come before they’ve even had the chance to get started. Control, when Emma is around, is not always easy.

  But here they are again. Locked in a warm, soapy embrace and it’s amazing.

  “Comfy?” Jo asks and pecks Emma on the cheek, moving her legs so Emma has more room. Immediately, the bubbles swell up around Emma’s sides and tickle her skin as Jo closes her legs around her again and hugs her to her, enveloping her in a warm embrace of soft, wet foam.

  “This is lovely.” Emma sighs and closes her eyes, thinking it is betterthan lovely. It is soul melting. Heavenly. She never wants to get out.

  “Can I touch you?”

  The question is tentative, almost shy and Emma’s heart flips over.

  “Yes.” She says. “Of course you can touch me. I would hate it if you didn’t.”

  Jo kisses her shoulder then fills her hands full of bubbles that silently pop between her fingers. Reaching round, she dabs handfuls of lather onto Emma’s breasts and begins to soap her. Up and around. Over and under, taking the weight of Emma’s breasts in her hands and then letting them fall. Her thumbs caress her nipples and they harden under her touch. Bubbles drip from the ends in a foamy waterfall.

  Emma sighs and Jo increases the pressure. Squeezing her nipples, knowing by the tiny shudders that smoulder through Emma’s body that what she is doing is blazing a trail directly down to her pussy.

  Letting go, she begins to soap Emma’s stomach in small circles. Her skin is smooth and brown and Jo feels her muscles twitch. Her belly button is now a tiny bath all of its own. Emma’s head drops back and rests on her lover’s shoulder. Her eyes close and her mouth falls open in a small gasp of bliss that tells Jo she has her completely.

  Smiling, she allows her hand to slide even lower, past Emma’s belly button and to the top of her mound. She is pleased when Emma suddenly reaches up and grips the sides of the tub in sweet anticipation of where she believes Jo to be going, where she hopes she is going and she waits in quiet anticipation. Holding on. Breathing. Not wanting to slip in the silky, soft water and loose the feel of fingers on her skin.

  Jo has found her fluff. Plastered wetly against her mound. Slowly she entwines her fingers through it and applies a gently pressure designed to send shivers of want rippling deep inside her cunt. Emma must feel it because she gasps and moves her hips off the bottom of the tub. Her pussy is throbbing, engorged with a longing that will not dissipate until Jo has done something about it.

  “Take me.” She whispers and grips the sides of the bath still harder. Her knuckles now as white as the tub they are sitting in. Bubbles lap beneath her breasts and fill the small indentation of her belly button. Her nipples are as hard as bullets. “I want you.” She breaths. “Please Jo, please.”

  “I want you too.” Jo whispers back. “ Be patient my darling.”

  Her other hand is still at Emma’s breast. She has her nipple caught between her thumb and index finger. She squeezes and Emma groans, her head pressed against her lover’s shoulder, the ends of her hair now dark with moisture. Jo tells her she loves her and drops a kiss on Emma’s forehead before reaching round to try and kiss her mouth. But the angle is all wrong and her lips fall short, landing at the edge of Emma’s mouth where she laps at her lips with the tip of her tongue. Emma doesn’t seem to mind, she is beyond kissing anyway. She wants to be fucked and she makes it known, almost begging Jo to touch her and groaning with dismay when Jo pulls her hand away from her mound and plays with her belly button.

  “You tease!” She complains and briefly lets go of her grip on the tub to splash water at Jo’s face. “How could you?”

  “Easy.” Jo smiles. “And I don’t tease. I prolong. I allow you to fill with anticipation and longing before I do this..!”

  And her hand is suddenly at Emma’s pussy again. Gripping her mound in her palm and moving in a lazy circle. The flesh is slippery now and she has to hold on tight to prevent herself from sliding away, but she is determined if nothing else and using her finger, Jo probes the lips to Emma’s vagina and finds them swollen and heavy and wet. Emma is very wet, and it has nothing to do with where they are.

  Jo pushes her finger in still further, parting Emma’s pussy lips, and Emma shudders, her hands once again hanging onto the edge of the bath as her breathing goes from smooth and easy to ragged and harsh. God, how she wants to be fucked! She needs to be fucked. Every nerve in her body is now craving that beautiful release.

  In response, Jo slides a finger inside Emma’s cunt. It enters her girlfriend’s body with an ease that sends a ripple of desire coursing through her own body and she shudders herself, delighted at how easy it is to enter Emma and how soft and warm and inviting it is once she is inside. She shudders again when Emma’s muscles grip her hungrily and hold her in place.

  She fucks her, just the once. Her finger moving in and out. Emma groans and purposely bears down allowing
Jo to feel her finger completely surrounded by an overwhelming firmness that makes Jo moan with lust. God, she could so easily come herself now. With her finger inside Emma and the bath water tickling her pussy. It would be just so easy to just let herself go. So easy just to gush..

  Instead she turns her attention back to Emma and fucks her, slowly and easily. Her finger gently sliding in and out, the pressure of the water around them adding to the thrill.

  She adds another finger to the first and Emma’s soft hiss of delight confirms she has done the right thing. Her other hand is still at her breast. Caressing the velvety roundness and flicking the nipple with her thumb.

  “Touch me.” Emma implores. “Touch my clit.”

  “Are you ready?”

  A deliberate nod of the head says that she is.

  Jo removes her fingers. They are sticky with juices not attributable to the bath water.

  Emma’s clit, when Jo reaches it, is swollen and engorged. Her pussy slick and Jo has no problems tracing the pink channel from cunt to throbbing nub. Still, she rubs her slowly but firmly. Allowing the pleasure to gradually build. Feeling her own pussy start to tingle and pulse and her own nipples to harden still further.

  “I love you.” She says and circles Emma’s clit with the tip of her finger.

  “I love you too.” Emma gasps and a deep moan of desire escapes her. Her next breath begs Jo to rub her harder.

  Her request is not a problem and Jo does as she is asked, applying pressure to the sensitive nub and holding on to her girlfriend’s body as Emma starts to tighten and shudder beneath her and she slips a little lower beneath the water.

  “Hold on.” She whispers and squeezes Emma’s nipple. Her finger sliding easily from Emma’s proud clit to the saturated well of her cunt and back again.

  “Come for me, my darling.” She adds and Emma groans, confirming she is starting to.