Lesbian Erotica, Volume 2 Page 6
“I think so.” Hannah smiled shakily, “other than the fact I think I’ve lost the use of my legs. Christ, I didn’t think fucking another woman could be so...”
“Amazing? Satisfying? Better than any man?”
“Yes, something like that.” Hannah laughed. “It was so intense.”
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed. Fancy returning the favour?”
“Of course, but I’m not sure I know what to do. I’ve never...”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Just enjoy me and if you do anything I don’t like, I’ll soon tell you. Not that I think you will.”
Slipping off her dress to leave her wearing nothing but her bra, panties and stockings, Karen turned round until her back was to Hannah and braced herself against the shelf opposite. “Thought you might find it easier if you can’t see my face,” she explained, “that way you won’t feel like I’m watching you.”
“Ok, but what do I do now?”
“Anything you like.” Karen offered. “Want to take off my bra, then do it. Likewise my panties. I hope you do take those off!”
Nervously, Hannah moved forward and placed her hands on Karen’s sides. Her own body was still buzzing from the mind blowing orgasm Karen had given her, but this didn’t seem to be fuelling her confidence and with trembling fingers, she reached up and unclasped her bra.
Karen sighed in appreciation. “Now take it off.” She said. “Take the weight of my breasts in your hands and play with my nipples. Make me shudder.”
Hannah did it all, closing her own eyes as she cupped Karen’s heavy breasts in her hands and allowed her thumbs to run over her rapidly stiffening nipples. Squeezing them, she heard Karen sigh and drop her head to the ground. “Lovely.” She smiled, spreading her legs a little. “My cunt is already sopping. Touch me Hannah.”
Carefully, Hannah peeled down her panties. There was a damp spot on the crotch and the sight of it excited her. She had done that! She had made Karen wet enough to leave a mark and it gave her confidence the boost it needed. Now she felt like she could do anything. Touch her anywhere. Make Karen come as fiercely as she had been made to.
Dipping her head, Hannah kissed Karen’s back and allowed her hands to trail down her sides and across her stomach. Stopping at her fluff, she lingered there a while, applying pressure to the top of her mound before cupping her pussy and relishing the heat that warmed her palm.
Then she withdrew and sliding her hands over Karen’s buttocks, cupped her again but this time from behind, noticing how her pussy had seemed to swell in the short space she had been away. Now it felt heavy and damp, the light hairs that covered it moist with the stirrings of her lust.
“Fuck me.” Karen whispered and spreading her legs still wider, gasped when Hannah’s hand sank into the soft folds, her fingers moving over her pussy and clit and then back towards the entrance to her cunt.
Lacing two fingers together, Hannah entered her, amazed at how easy and sensual it was to feel another woman’s body close around her and draw her in as slowly, she began to move her fingers in and out, savouring the warmth and the stickiness and the gently undulation of cunt muscles sucking at her hand.
“That’s nice.” Karen said. “Can I have more?”
Hannah fed her another two, the same as she had been fucked with, and Karen sighed with pleasure. “Yes,” she said, “That feels lovely and full. Now fuck me sweetie and don’t worry about hurting me, ‘cos you won’t. Just give it to me, as hard as you like.”
Hannah wanted to. Karen’s words had excited her and as she began to move all four of her fingers in and out of her juicy cunt, she was a little surprised to discover that some deep, dark part of her actually wanted to fuck Karen so hard it made her scream. “Is this okay?” She finally asked before she allowed herself to get too carried away, “I’m not hurting you?”
“No!” Karen insisted. “I like it hard, Hannah. I like to be really taken, you know. Go for it! Please.”
Hannah fucked her. Hard. All four of her fingers driving themselves in and out of Karen’s cunt with so much force it made her rock back and forth and her breasts to swing with her. But instead of complaining or begging her to stop, Karen urged her on, practically begging her to go faster, harder, to ram her cunt until she could take no more. And all the time she grew wetter and plumper, covering Hannah’s fingers and hand with sticky juices as her cunt opened up to suck her in.
Fucking her, Hannah felt her own lust beginning to rise again and reaching around with her other hand, she found Karen’s clit and pushed a finger deep into the centre of it. Immediately Karen shuddered and gushing liquid from her cunt told Hannah not to stop.
Hannah wasn’t about to. Karen’s cunt felt amazing and her clit was actually throbbing beneath her finger as she continued to rub it round and round, feeling Karen’s body first stiffen and then increasingly start to tense as her orgasm first built and then rushed towards its ultimate end.
“I’m..going.. to come!” Karen gasped and gripping the shelf in front of her, pushed her backside towards Hannah in an effort to take even more of her fingers inside her.
Hannah fucked her, slamming her fingers, now glued together with pussy lube, into Karen’s hole whilst her other hand stuck to Karen’s lovely clit as she fucked and fingered her, telling her she was lovely, beautiful, that she was going to come so hard it would leave her gasping for breath.
“I..am.” Karen replied and then let out a groan as her orgasm ripped through her and her cunt practically sucked Hannah’s fingers inside, holding them fast as wave after wave of pure pleasure coursed through her cunt and left her panting.
“Perfect.” She said, when at last she could speak again, “that was bloody perfect, thank you.”
Karen had been right, neither her boyfriend nor Hannah’s had even noticed their absence and they didn’t care. Grabbing drinks, they settled themselves at an empty table and whispered surreptitiously together, sharing verbally the highlights of their love making and planning to do it again.
Just as soon as they’d finished their wine.
Time
Day One
Shit! Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit!!
I cannot believe I’ve been so bloody stupid! I especially can’t believe I’ve ended up here! In fucking Holebrook prison. And for what? For standing up for a mate who disappeared the moment she saw the other cow drop.
Maybe I should explain. I’ve already promised myself I would keep this diary as if I’m expecting someone else to read it one day, so a bit of background might be a good idea. My name is Rosie Davenport. I’m twenty six years old and until yesterday afternoon, I worked as a mechanic in a garage. I doubt I do now though. They suspended me until the trial and I guess, having been found guilty, have seen fit to sack me. Not that I blame them. I won’t be fixing any cars for a while in here and there is plenty of keen grease monkeys out there who’ll only be too happy to fill the gap.
As for my flat, well Mum has offered to keep an eye on that for me whilst I’m ‘otherwise detained’, so that’s something I don’t need to worry about and as I won’t be using any electricity and water whilst I’m in here there shouldn’t be much in the way of bills to pay. I have savings as well, so it’s not as if I’m putting my parents out of pocket.
I bet they’re disappointed in me though and not for the first time. I’ve been pretty adept at letting my parents down over the years. First I disappointed them at school, when I didn’t get the grades they expected, then again when I refused to go to college to study as an accountant although I have no idea to this day why they thought a career in numbers would appeal to me. I’ve always hated maths! Anyway, I made up a bit of ground when I attended and finished the mechanics course and I think dad rather enjoyed talking cars and engines to me, even if mum couldn’t make head nor tail of it all, but then I ruined the whole lot by coming out as
gay and ruining their chances of becoming Grandparents. Being arrested, therefore, was just the icing on the cake. so all in all, I doubt the Daughter of the year award is ever going to grace my mantelpiece.
My arrest then. I guess I better regale you with this little saga.
It all started at a party in a pub called the Crown and Anchor. My so called mate, Stella, was celebrating her twenty seventh and everyone was a bit merry, which is hardly surprising seeing as we were all in a pub, but it was at this point, when everything was starting to get a bit blurry around the edges, that some bright spark decided to roll out a bloody huge birthday cake on a trolley that had wheels.
I can’t even remember what it was of, this monumental offering, I just remember it being covered in pink and white icing with one of those sparkly candles on it that when lit resembled a small, very excited sparkler. Anyway, it was just as Stella was getting up to cut it and waving a knife around like it wasn’t sharp enough to take someone’s head off, that the pub doors crashed open and this totally pissed off brunette stormed in, wearing a face like thunder and shouting her mouth off about Stella sleeping with her bloke. A bloke, I hasten to add, who was nowhere in sight.
Course Stella denied everything and most of us believed her. Stella has been with her Tony for about three years now and I really can’t see her straying, she’s just not the type, but mouth almighty was having none of it and walking up to the cake, accused poor Stella of all manner of things before giving the trolley a huge shove and sending the whole lot smashing into the wall. Chunks of cake and icing went everywhere whilst we all stood in frozen horror and pissed off brunette turned on her triumphant heel and stormed right back out again, which is precisely when the alcohol I had consumed decided to numb the sensible part of my brain and instead of going up to Stella and putting my arm around her and telling her everything was going to be alright, made me race after stroppy madam, grab her by the shoulder and spin her around just before she could exit out into the cold, night air.
To say she wasn’t pleased is an understatement. She swore blue murder and when I wouldn’t let her go, slapped me so hard across the face my lip split and blood dribbled down my chin. Well, I wasn’t having that! If anyone needed a good slap it was her, not me and clutching my bleeding mouth with one hand, I threw a proper, mechanic’s arm punch with the other and floored the bitch. But she couldn’t just fall could she? Oh no. The stupid cow had to smack her head against the side of a table on the way down, spilling beer all over herself and leaving a gaping wound big enough to require stitches.
Needless to say, by the time the police and ambulance arrived, madam had picked herself up and was telling everyone I had battered her to within an inch of her life. The fact she hit me first hardly dented the copper’s notebook. She was bleeding worse than me, she was the one needing stitches and I was the one merely looking like a pissed up thug. Stella didn’t help either and instead of sticking around to stand up for me and explain why I had thumped the big mouthed brunette, legged it outside, along with just about everyone else, resulting in me getting three months for GBH. My parents are so proud.
Day Four
Getting used to the place now. The first couple of days were a nightmare. I didn’t know where anything was or what any of the bells meant and I wandered around like a little, lost soul permanently trying to follow the crowd. My cell mate, Amanda, was supposed to show me the ropes, but so far her instruction has gone no further than vague pointing in various directions and tut-ting. The food isn’t too bad, edible if not uninspiring but the work is boring and the nights are bad, very bad.
In darkness, there is too much time to think and to realise just how long three months can be. I will miss Easter, though if I’m honest, I will miss the chocolate more. Mum says she is still buying me an egg and I can have it when I get home which is nice, if dad doesn’t get to it first. I also miss having my own room. Sharing with Amanda is a nightmare! She’s in the top bunk and believe me, that girl has a ferociously high sex drive. Every night she’s at it, playing with herself, the bunk above me creaking and moaning until finally her deft, little fingers have reached their desired goal. She isn’t exactly quiet about it either and seems to have a variety of names at her disposal to call out at the opportune moment. Thankfully they are all male.
Day Six
All alone in my cell, crying my eyes out. I want to go home! I want my mum! Pathetic I know but I can’t stop shaking, my nose is bloody running and I have a scrape down my left cheek where they slammed me against the wall. The fucking bitches! I was only having a shower, I didn’t know the cubicle I was using was special. I was just washing, that’s all and then they grabbed me, three of them. I don’t even know their names, apart from Ronnie who is a big, fat, ugly cow. She watched whilst the other two smashed me against the cold, wet tiles and then leant in to tell me I was using her cubicle and that I would now have to suffer the consequences.
I’m not sure if I want to document what they did next, but I suppose it wouldn’t be much of a diary if I didn’t. They turned me around and laughed at my scraped face, then Ronnie rang a finger down my cheek and asked if I had hurt myself? I wanted to thump her then, to smash her one the same way I had sorted out that bitch at the party, except I was severely outnumbered here and would you believe it, there was absolutely no one else taking a shower.
So I let her stroke my face and fondle my breasts and tell me how lovely I was and how much I must be missing a decent fuck. Telling her to go fuck herself was probably not the best option ‘cos she didn’t take it well and slamming me around again, she grabbed my nipples from behind and gave them a painful tweak. Course I screamed and struggled but no one came. Nor did anyone appear when she got the other two to hold my legs apart whilst she finger fucked me so hard my feet nearly left the floor.
So now I’m crying, like a soppy, little girl. One hand jammed between my thighs, the other scribbling this down. I want to die.
Still Day six.
I dozed off, somehow slept through the lunchtime bell and woke up feeling really hungry. With nothing to eat in my cell I was forced to venture out onto the landing, and still feeling sorry for myself thought it might be wise if I went and checked myself ‘down there’ if only to ensure Ronnie hadn’t seriously hurt me, but my stomach was grumbling loud enough to echo along the corridor and I was hoping that if I made a mad dash for the dining room there might still be something left for me to munch on.
I didn’t see the guard, not until I practically walked into her. She was coming out of one of the other cells, her concentration all on the way she was heading and I just about managed to pull myself up short before our uniforms collided. She did look startled.
“Davenport, isn’t it?” She said, looking me up and down and pulling at the hem of her tunic. “Why aren’t you at lunch?”
“I was asleep.” I replied, wiping sleep out of my eyes, “missed it.”
She looked at her watch. “You sure have. Didn’t you hear the bell?”
I shook my head. I didn’t need this. I just wanted to go and get some food and be on my own so I could wallow in misery.
“Are you alright?”
I wasn’t’ expecting that. Usually the guards just bark orders at you or look at you as if you’ve been scrapped off someone’s shoe, so to be asked if I was ok threw me a bit and I felt tears start to well again.
Cuffing them from my face, I mutely nodded and wondered if I could get away with fleeing back to my cell.
“You’re crying. What’s the matter? Has something happened?”
I managed another nod and then I was walking, well being led really, a hand wrapped around my arm as I was gently led back to my cell and deposited on my bunk. The guard then retreated back to the door to give me space and waited for me to explain.
It came out in fits and starts, with plenty of nose blowing and even more tears but once
I’d finished, she assured me I had nothing to fear and that Ronnie would be severely dealt with.
“But she’ll know it’s me!” I cried, already envisaging Ronnie and her little band of helpers getting their own back. “And then it’ll get worse.”
“I doubt it. This isn’t the first time Ronnie has pushed her luck and I’m pretty sure, once the governor hears about this, she’ll be around much longer to bother you. As for the other two, a stretch in solitary should give them something to think about. Now, dry your eyes and come with me. Let’s go see what’s lurking in the kitchen.”
I followed her, feeling like a little kid. My eyes were red and sore and I was so hungry my stomach felt hollow and as we neared the kitchen the smells from within almost drove me mad as we pushed through the double doors and encountered a world of chrome, light and emptiness.
Lunch was clearly over and everything tidied up and put away, but the mouth watering aromas of meat and potatoes and gravy still lingered and it didn’t take long before I was positively drooling.
Meanwhile, the guard was at the fridge, sorting through the contents and pulling out sealed containers and the biggest tub of margarine I’ve ever seen. “Have to be a sandwich.” She said, dumping the lot on the counter. “Cheese ok? Or would you prefer ham?”
She made me a cheese sandwich and I watched her, trying to see beyond the uniform to the woman inside. She was, I decided, quite attractive. Her eyes were kind and she had a nice smile and she chatted whilst she worked, asking me about my life outside and what I had done to earn myself a stay in Holebrook.
“Tough break.” She said when I’d finished speaking. “Not saying you should have thumped her, but sounds like she deserved it. And you’re a mechanic? That’s pretty impressive. Maybe I’ll get you to take a look at my rusty old heap once you’re out.”
Biting into the sandwich I said I’d be delighted and watched her make one for herself. She had missed lunch too and I had an uncharitable moment when I wondered if she hadn’t been hungry as me we wouldn’t be eating together.