Blue Collar Lesbian Erotica Page 8

  Alice thrust her hips closer to Bobby's hand, trying desperately to get relief. The teasing reached a crescendo and just when Alice was about to burst, Bobby removed her hand and tasted Alice's hot center.

  Alice grabbed fistfuls of Bobby's hair and moaned as Bobby drank up her juices. Her hips danced in time to Bobby's lips and tongue. An intense ache spread from Alice's pelvis clear through to her clit as Bobby worked her pussy and clit in perfect harmony. "Please...ohgod..."

  Bobby kissed her words away. She spread Alice's legs further with her arms and dipped her fingers into Alice's moist opening using the lubrication to encircle her engorged flesh, stopping briefly to take her with four fingers. Alice whimpered.

  "I know." Bobby's rhythm increased. Her thumb rubbed the underside of Alice's clit and Alice reached the first plateau. Bobby kissed her way down to the inside of Alice's thighs, and the sensation built up more fiercely then before. She was so close but Bobby had other ideas. She again ran her tongue inside slippery lips and lapped up more copious juices. The third time Alice was sure this was it.

  "I'm...coming...oh..."

  "Not yet," Bobby whispered. She straightened up and eased Alice down onto the table. She leaned over her, kissed her deeply, and Alice moaned once more as she tasted her own familiar sweetness. Bobby prolonged the torture as she moved down Alice's body, kissing, licking, and teasing. Alice gripped her fingers and at last they were swallowed up between pulsating walls. She shuddered and panted.

  Alice writhed on the table and begged Bobby for more, while holiday lights merged with the music from the jukebox, filling her with an insistent rhythm. Her hips bucked in time with it, and Bobby thrust in three fingers, harder and faster, matching every movement.

  With one last, desperate thrust, Alice reached a harder climax than the sweet release, which had her begging just moments ago. Waves of pleasure washed over her. Her mouth dropped open, and her body involuntarily shook. Bobby moved up and closed her mouth over Alice's. She inserted her tongue, thrusting it in and out in time with the continuing strokes of her fingers until the last wave subsided. Then Bobby removed her fingers and pressed against Alice's clit several times, draining the last few spasms.

  After the last shudder abated, Bobby drew Alice in for a slow, lingering kiss before hugging her tightly. Pulling away ever so slightly, she gazed into Alice's eyes, reflecting the desire they shared.

  The embrace ended, and Bobby helped Alice sit up. She slipped her fingers behind Bobby's belt, and pulled her closer. "Now?" she asked, her mind already picturing what she wanted to do to please Bobby.

  Bobby placed a hand over her belt buckle, stopping Alice. "Wait, baby. I have an apartment upstairs. How about continuing this little nightcap at my place? "Bobby leaned in. "I have some new toys we can play with." She kissed Alice tenderly. "And you don't have to wait until Christmas."

  "Oooh, I'd love that. After all, 'tis the season."

  Bobby pulled her closer and said in a seductive, sex-roughened voice, "Let's go play."

  Off the Meter

  by Radclyffe

  IT WAS TEN minutes to one. Ten minutes until I was officially off the meter. I'd started work at eleven the previous day. That's eleven a.m. I'd lost count of the number of times I'd crossed Manhattan, north-south, east-west, around and around. But I couldn't complain; I'd been busy all day and had a pocket full of neatly folded bills, my tips, to show for it. There was a lot of money to be made driving a cab in New York City, if you were faster and more fearless than the other cabbies. And I was.

  Still, I was feeling the effects of the long hours of fighting the traffic, hyped on adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough food. I should've passed up the last fare, but there was something about the way she stood under the awning of the Waldorf-Astoria, clearly in need of a cab but too aloof and sophisticated to flag one down, that caught my eye. No unseemly show of waving arms and shouting in the streets for her. Despite the fact that I'd already lit the off-duty sign on my roof box, signaling that I was out of service, and was headed back to the barn, I swerved across three lanes of traffic and screeched to a halt in front of the slender redhead in the sleek black dress and stiletto heels.

  When she didn't move, I thought at first I'd been mistaken about her needs. Illuminated by the lights of the grand hotel's entrance, her face was elegantly made up. A diamond choker nestled in the hollow of her throat, and her eyes, as they swept over me without the slightest sign of interest, were remote. She looked more the type to be waiting for a limo than a yellow cab. Then, although she hadn't made the slightest movement,suddenly knew exactly why she waited. Slamming the transmission into park, I bounded from the front seat, having totally forgotten that five minutes earlier I'd been reeling with exhaustion and nerves, and hurried around the front of my vehicle.

  "Taxi, madam?" Don't ask me why I said that. She just looked the part. Regal. Yes, that was it, as if the ordinary worlds of ordinary people revolved in some parallel universe from which she was far removed. I wished for a crimson-lined cape to spread over the littered sidewalk. Bowing slightly and feeling not the least bit foolish, I indicated the slightly battered vehicle with a sweep of my arm and an open hand, presenting it as if it were a gleaming coach with four white steeds.

  She tilted her head and nodded with a faint smile. "Yes. Thank you."

  Don't ask me either why I opened the front door and not the rear, or why she slid in without the slightest hesitation. But thirty seconds later I was settled behind the wheel, and she was only inches away, angled slightly to face me, her knees pressed demurely together and pulled partway up onto the seat.

  "Where may I take you?" My throat was dry and my voice sounded unusually deep to my own ears. Carefully, I placed my hands at two and ten on the familiar wheel, its warm, smooth surface imprinted on my palms from years of intimacy. Suddenly self-conscious in my well-worn work khakis and white cotton T-shirt, I felt like a peasant in the presence of a noblewoman.

  "Would you mind very much opening the windows?" Her voice was silky smooth and honey rich. "I dislike air-conditioning."

  "It's too hot outside to do much for you," I replied as I dutifully lowered both front windows. The August night was thick and humid and immediately settled around us like fog.

  "I find a breath of air on my skin refreshing, especially when it's warm."

  I turned my head and met her eyes. They were large, long lashed, and deep, deep blue. Ocean-drowning blue. I never even considered not going under. "I forgot where you said you wanted to go."

  She laughed, a surprisingly full and enormously sensuous sound. She leaned forward, her hand inches from my thigh, and flipped off the air-conditioning. "That's because I didn't tell you."

  "Just say where." Now I understood how monarchies survived for centuries. Being the recipient of her smile was better than gold. Allow me to serve you.

  "Take me for a ride."

  My mind went completely blank, my stomach turned somersaults, and a ball of fire ignited between my thighs. Command me, I'm yours.

  "How far..." My voice cracked and I cleared my throat.

  "How far did you have in mind?"

  She rested her fingertips ever so gently on the top of my right hand, which was now clenched around the gearshift. "How much time do you have?"

  The muscles in my forearm quivered uncontrollably as I nodded to the blank face of the rectangular fare box mounted to my dash. "I'm done for the day."

  "Well then," she said, her fingers insinuating between mine, "it's up to you, isn't it?"

  Carefully, fearful that I'd dislodge her hand from mine, I maneuvered the gearshift into drive, flicked my eyes to the side-view mirror, and eased into the late-night traffic. "Your wish is my command, m'lady."

  "You honor me," she murmured, sliding infinitesimally closer, leaving only a sliver of space between her thigh and mine. Her fingers left my hand and brushed with mesmerizing frequency up and down my bare arm. "Pretend I'm a tourist and show me the sights."r />
  "Are you? A tourist?" I had no idea why it felt completely natural for the stranger to caress me. Her touch was gentle, but possessive. And it felt exactly right.

  "In a way." She sighed quietly and rested her cheek against my shoulder, her breast gently cushioned against my upper arm.

  I did the only thing I could. I took her on a slow tour of Manhattan, pointing out the sights as I drove: St. Patrick's Cathedral, the theatre district, Times Square. Now and then she inclined her head to look up through the windshield or leaned forward to peer out the driver's window for a better view. Each small movement of her body against mine caused my heart to race and my nerves to jangle. Somehow, I kept my eyes on the streets even as my awareness dissolved into sensations of her. Her scent, delicate and mysterious, stirred my blood; her voice, a mellifluous murmur, sent chills down my spine; her body, firm and warm and enticing, aroused mine.

  "There." I raised my free hand, the one where her fingers still rested on my wrist, and pointed briefly. "The Empire State Building."

  "Mmm, very phallic." One hand drifted to my thigh as she caught my right hand in the other and drew it down to her lap, linking our fingers once again.

  I laughed with surprise at the comment and pleasure at the unexpected touch on my leg. "Seems to be a theme with monuments. I guess it's all about the power."

  "Too obvious," she murmured. She moved closer and rested the tip of her chin on the point of my shoulder. I felt her gaze hot against my cheek. "I prefer a subtler kind of power."

  "And what would that be?" My voice was barely a whisper because I was finding it hard to move air in and out of my chest. Her palm rested on the inside of my leg, less than an inch from my crotch. I knew without looking that there was a damp spot soaked through the material stretched between my thighs, and if she touched me there even by accident, she would know without doubt what she'd done to me.

  "The kind that has nothing to do with winning and losing." She pressed her mouth to the side of my neck and traced the tip of her tongue over the pulse that beat frantically beneath my skin. "Passion is the true power." Her fingers danced up my fly to my stomach, where she tugged my T-shirt from my pants and slid her hand underneath. "Shared passion."

  My stomach went rigid, my thighs stiffened, and I had to concentrate not to press down on the gas pedal and rocket us up Sixth Avenue. Her hand was so hot my skin burned. When she massaged me in slow circles, the pressure went straight into my clit. If my legs hadn't already been spread, I would have had to part them, just to make room for it is as it promptly swelled and twitched. I groaned softly, and I swear she laughed.

  "Take me through Central Park."

  "You won't...see much at night."

  "Mmm, I'm not thinking of the scenery outside."

  As she spoke, she drew my hand beneath the hem of her dress. While she leaned against me, still stroking my stomach, she guided the backs of my fingers up and down the inside of her thigh. When I felt the subtle lift of her hips beside me, I knew I was lost.

  "I can't drive like this," I whispered.

  "Find a place to pull over." The hint of command was still in her voice, but the faint tremor there now went right to my head.

  My vision blurred for an instant and reflections from neighboring headlights became dancing moonbeams. I struggled to keep the cab in the lane. "Oh God--"

  "Steady. There's time."

  I drew a tremulous breath and squeezed down hard on the steering wheel with my left hand, blinking to clear my eyes. "I can't...I can't think. I want to touch you so much."

  Her laughter held a note of triumph. "Will that help your concentration?"

  To emphasize her point, she brushed my fingers higher between her thighs, the silk of her dress sliding up my arm as my fingertips slid over silken skin. I touched slick wet heat and gave a sharp cry of shock.

  "No," she murmured throatily, "I didn't think so."

  Mercifully, I'd just reached the entrance to the park where the traffic at least would be thinner. I made the mistake of glancing down into her lap and saw our arms disappearing beneath the silvery blackness of her dress, even as my fingers beneath it parted her ready flesh. I veered into a tiny turnaround and with my left hand awkwardly jammed the transmission into park while in the same motion turning toward her. In less than a second my mouth was against her ear, my fingers spread over the cleft between her thighs, cupping all of her, hot and wet and swollen. "I can't wait. Please, may I touch you?"

  "Yes," she breathed, "I give you leave."

  Abruptly, she released her hold on my hand where she held it between her legs and pushed both of hers beneath my T-shirt to grasp my bare breasts. The force of her fingers closing on my tense nipples and swollen breasts wrenched another cry from my throat. Before the sound died, her mouth was on my neck, the weight of her body forcing me back against the seat.

  Even as her lips and teeth and mouth nipped at my skin, I fumbled with my left hand between the seat and the door, found the seat release lever, and pulled it. The front seat slid back away from the steering wheel, enough at least to allow us to turn and face each other. I arched my neck, offering myself, as she sucked on the tender flesh just below my jaw. Gently, I eased my fingers into her depths, marveling at the heat and softness. She moaned and pressed down against my hand.

  "We can't--" My body bowed from the seat as she lowered her head and caught a nipple in her teeth through my T-shirt. Tugging at it, making the blood roar in my head, she adroitly opened the button on my chinos and flicked down the zipper. "Police...could come."

  "They won't," she said fiercely, rolling her hips in my palm. "Come deeper inside me. Fill me up, make me come."

  I gazed down through clouded eyes and saw her push her hand down my pants. The sight alone nearly made me come. I knew as soon as she touched me I would explode, and I wanted her to come first. Her fingers glided through the dampness between my legs just as I entered her. As I filled her, holding her in my palm, I worked my thumb back and forth over her clitoris. The muscles spasming around my fingers signaled she was nearing her climax.

  "That's right," she murmured, "that's right. I'm coming. "

  Her fingers closed around my clitoris as the first wave of her orgasm rolled through her. She pressed her face to my breasts, rocked her hips convulsively against my hand and arm, and even though she shuddered and moaned, still managed to jerk me to a shattering climax.

  For minutes, possibly hours, I was blind and deaf and barely breathing. The engine idled quietly in the background, a soothing contrast to our hoarse cries and desperate moans. When at last I fell back against the seat, limp and thoroughly sated, she raised her head and kissed the corner of my mouth.

  "Wherever this spot is, it should get four stars in the guidebook."

  "It's not on my usual tour route," I rejoined lazily.

  She caught my wrist as I was about to slip out of her and held my fingers inside, undulating her hips slowly. "No, not yet. You feel so good filling me."

  "We have to get moving." I turned my head on the seat, not certain I had the strength to sit up. Her eyes were liquid, so dark and satisfied they appeared black. "We haven't finished our tour."

  The corner of her mouth lifted and she squeezed down around my fingers one more time before gently guiding me out. "You mean there's more?"

  "Uh-huh. Lots."

  "Do you have time?"

  "All the time in the world." I smiled and leaned forward to kiss her. "I'm off the meter, remember?"

  Out of Habit

  by MJ Williamz

  SUMMER ON THE Central Coast. Scantily clad coeds parade around downtown, showing off their California bodies. Shame I had to move all the way to Oregon to really appreciate the town where I grew up. But appreciate I did as I sat in the outside eating area of the Firestone Grill. I'd just finished a tri-tip sandwich and was enjoying a local brew while watching the scenery.

  The day was a scorcher by San Luis standards--eighty-five degrees. Why these women wer
en't at the beach was beyond me, but I couldn't complain about the bikini tops, bare midriffs, and shorts so short that cheeks were showing. Rollerblades carried these delights up and down the street, showcasing their toned, tanned legs.

  I was considering heading down to the beach myself when I heard someone call my name.

  "Chase? Chase Riley? Is that you?"

  Chase is short for Chastity, a name no one had called me since kindergarten. Turning, I saw an attractive woman walking toward me. She was a total hippie--her graying hair worn in a single braid, her denim skirt long and flowing, Birkenstocks on her feet. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. She reached my table and smiled brightly, her beautiful white teeth a sharp contrast to her bronze skin. Her blue eyes shone with a youth that her hair belied.

  I stood and took two full plastic bags from the woman and set them on the table before I offered my hand. "I'm sorry. I can't place you."

  Her face turned a pleasant mahogany, further showcasing her deep blue eyes.

  "I'm so sorry. How rude of me," she said, taking my hand with hers, surprising me with their calloused feel from what I guessed were years of hard work. "My name is Brigid. Sister Brigid. I met you last year..." Her voice trailed off.

  "Oh! Sister Brigid!" The light bulb finally went on. "You sang at my father's funeral. Wow. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you."

  "Nonsense. You had more important things on your mind."

  Even as she said that, I remembered her tender kiss on my cheek that horrible day. I was in so much pain--missing my father, dealing with the acrid tongue of my mother--and still I remembered the kiss. Soft lips against my cheek. Soft breasts pressed into my arm. I knew it was inappropriate to enjoy it at that moment, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I'd thought of her often in the months that followed. She looked pleasantly different out of her habit.