Category: girl girl

When Worlds Collide

Published December 27, 2018 by Kate Lessons

“Do you want to split a cheese plate?”
She cocked her eyebrow, wiping the remnants of bernaise sauce from her lips.
“Do you have a black hole in place of a stomach? I’m stuffed.”
“More wine then.” He topped up her glass and she shook her head.
“I already agreed to your terms, to your working methods, to everything. I’m in love with everything you do. You really don’t have to get me smashed to seal the deal.”

His eyes darted from the crumpled napkin on the table, to her fingers, idly fiddling with the top button on her dress. The flesh beneath her knuckles rose and yielded with every twist, until the button came loose and she stretched, exposing more of her succulent breasts and their peachy lace encasement.

When people talk about long games, they probably picture this tableau, the result of six months hard graft, on both sides. Six months of flirting that went from professional to questionable and back again. Ever since he’d caught wind of her looking for new representation, he’d wanted her for his portfolio, and would stop at nothing. And well, she was compliant. Eager. But reserved.

That he had been lost in a crush on her since the second month was almost secondary. And Colette encouraged it. Colette watched him take FaceTime calls with her and shivered at the tonal shift in his voice whenever Marianne spoke. The two women had never met, though they had spoken on the brief occasions Tom’s wife had picked up the work phone. Colette’s fluent familiarity with English slang under the rich veil of her German accent was unnerving and arousing.

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I’ve got my love to keep me warm

Published November 11, 2018 by Kate Lessons

She cooks. Always cooking. Itchy fingers, she says.

This morning – Christmas Eve Eve – I woke up to find her side of the bed empty and generic Christmas spice scent wafting through the door.

I padded naked – foolish, foolish child! – to the kitchen and found her at the hob, stirring her pot of festive cheer, also naked but for an oversized apron, her pinchable bum and smooth terracotta skin of her back peeking deliciously at me from behind the creaking folds of oilcoth. George Michael was nursing his broken heart through song on the radio.

“I’m making mincemeat.” she said without turning around.

“And why is that?” I carefully put my hand on the small of her back, easing my fingers up through the cords.

She set the spoon down and rested her hip against the counter top.

“I woke up with a craving. I needed mince pies.”

“The Co Op opens at ten.” My hand curved round onto her stomach. Her tender, beautiful stomach. The faintest sigh escaped her lips as I moved closer, the convex of my body fitting neatly into the concave of hers.

“I’ve been up since six. I needed to feel useful. Create. Get my hands dirty. Pastry’s chilling in the fridge. So rich and buttery.”

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A hop, skip and a jump

Published October 25, 2018 by Kate Lessons

How I became that girl, I do not know. That girl with bare legs and no knickers, sidling up to him in the foyer of his hotel and murmuring “Is that a telescope in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”
He has me over the bed in seconds, all wandering fingers and thumbs in my cunt, pulling and stretching me this way and that.

Wet little hole.

Lily

Published October 21, 2018 by Kate Lessons

Love sticks and stays.

Each year someone would nudge her, point out a handsome face in the street, or theatre.

“You’re only twenty five. He wouldn’t want you to mourn forever.”

Even his mother’s grief seemed to wane before hers, smiling when Frank was brought to memory and able to talk about her son with warmth and mirth. Lily smiled weakly and sipped her tea, aware of the minutes until she was alone and could weep.

“It’s…. Lily, it’s been three years.” Mrs Bates eyed the wedding band on Lily’s hand. “Frank would want you happy. Not weeping for him still.”

How could she tell her mother in law how she’d grown so unhappily used to the space on the bed beside her remaining cold and still, that she could not bring herself to think of another man’s warmth enveloping it.

“There is time.” She said at length, and Mrs Bates nodded.

The year dragged on. Snow began to threaten. Lily reached for her darned woollen stockings each morning, the fine nylons tucked away for warmer days. Still her poor heart didn’t heal, stagnating in her chest like sour meat. It was heavy to carry around and wearied her.

With no children to care for, she went through her days in a kind of repetitive haze. Wake. Work. Bathe. Bed. She barely ate. She was a ghost, keeping to a tight beat of streets and buildings. Venturing outside of comfort – to the park when she and Frank had met, or the pub they had visited often, was out of the question.

December began and the darkness was pricked with sharp white lights. Each shop window she passed was full of painful wonder, but she steeled herself to look. At the toys she would never buy for the child she didn’t have. At the pearl-handled razor she would never wrap in delicate paper, eager to see Frank open it on Christmas morning. Tears began to seep out from under her frost-tinged lashes.

“Sadness in winter burns brighter and more sorely than the summer, don’t it?”
Came a voice at her ear.

Lily turned her head; beside her was a woman a little taller than herself; older, perhaps sadder. Her hair was hidden behind a brightly coloured turban.

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What’s the time, Mister Wolf?

Published October 13, 2018 by Kate Lessons

A queer drag king burlesque D/s love story.

The act was called What’s the time Mister Wolf?

I sat backstage and watched her transform. First she plaited her unruly curls and pinned them to her scalp in a neat little fauxhawk. Then she took off her aged converse and ripped jeans, but left the fishnet tights beneath. This was when I laced her into the corset – gold glitter to which she’d gluegunned tufts of brown fur. Watching her already defined waist grow smaller and smaller and her breasts rise higher and higher in her reflecton.

She sat on the edge of the makeshift dressing table and pulled on a pair of low-heeled brogues, then beckoned to me.

“Drop ’em.” She drawled, and I fished under my dress for the waistband of my knickers, pulling them off for her. She inhaled their scent before spreading her legs obscenely so I could watch her stuff her own boxers with them. The bulge made my legs shake a little, though she soon covered this with a pair of chocolate brown corduroys.

Through the loops of the trousers, she passed the strong leather belt of her tail – a fine, silky, bushy beast of a tail, in reds and browns to match her suit, her eyes, her hair. She watched herself in the glass and gave her hips a little wiggle. The weighted tail shook and curled around her calves and she smiled with satisfaction.

Her nipples she crowned with paw print pasties before shrugging on a sharp pinstripe shirt. With the collar buttons undone, she mascara’d her lashes, then took the black kohl eyeliner from her make up bag and drew on a pencil moustache. She made her black brows blacker, wilder. With surgical precision she drew on whiskers across her dimpled cheeks, and a black snub nose.

“Jacket.” She said, admiring herself in the full length glass in the corner of the room. I placed it around her shoulders, and as she left the room, she flipped the trilby from he hat stand onto her head.
“Thanks, Kid.”

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Three (Smutathon 2018)

Published September 2, 2018 by Kate Lessons

The final Smutathon story! This for Gorgeous Missy who asked for a D/s Threesome which I hope I have delivered.

Look at him. King of the castle. The cat that got the cream. Lying here in this reasonably priced hotel room with his wife and her lover. These beautiful women. One of whom he owns and worships, one he adores as she serves his beloved.

He had girl strip as soon as she entered – she was not permitted to glance at the bed where beloved sat astride him – and instructed her to stand at the open window with her hands behind her head, exposed to the patrons in the bar opposite. He asked her to raise her hand each time she was spotted, and describe the response of the voyeur.

“He is making lewd gestures.”

“More specific.”
“He grabbed his crotch and then pretended to grab my hair as if I was sucking him.”

“Good. He knows that’s all you’re good for, girl.”
“Now a woman is looking.”
“And?”
“Just looking. Her eyes are wide. She’s stroking the rim of her champagne glass.”

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Ten. (Smutathon 2018)

Published September 2, 2018 by Kate Lessons

Beautiful Bee’s story. Shared with permission. Written with love.

“Close your eyes and count to ten. Slowly. Then knock on the door. Can you remember that?”

She nodded and he petted her head, lovingly.
“So desperate to please, aren’t you?” and she nuzzled his hand.

“So desperate to prove herself. “

He reached down and twisted her prominent nipple between his thick, unforgiving fingers and she moaned.

“Pathetic.” He laughed as he shut the door behind him.

Naked in the centre of the landing, she brought her hands to her face and began to count out loud.

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The Gift (Smutathon 2018)

Published August 27, 2018 by Kate Lessons

This piece is shared with the permission of Honey for whom it was written with much love, for her kind donation. Sometimes when we go…

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Ettie and Rose’s Dirty Weekend (Smutathon 2018)

Published August 11, 2018 by Kate Lessons

Second story time! Another queer romance, but a much happier one set in the late 1940s, and with a gorgeous accompanying image kindly provided by the wonderful Eye and Missy

On Thursday the 4^th of August 1949, the 12pm Blackpool train from Manchester was crammed with children and mardy-looking grandmothers crammed into every corner of every carriage.

“Let’s just stand in the hallway.” Ettie suggested after a third door had opened to reveal several mewling infants and bemused female relatives trying and failing to keep order.

“It’s an hour journey or more, I don’t think my legs could take it. Let’s walk on further there must be a space for us.”
“You could sit on the case. Or on me.” Ettie suggested helpfully as they walked on.

Eventually they came to a larger carriage with just as many unruly children, but also two empty seats separated by a pair of soldiers – Canadian possibly – having a very heated debate. Their eyes lit up when they spied Ettie – buxom and twenty, with delicately waved hair and an innocent expression. Their focus was largely on the straining material of her blouse where her breasts were threatening to escape.

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What were you expecting?

Published August 5, 2018 by Kate Lessons

She looked innocent. I looked at her and thought of quiet corners with scuffed sci fi novellas, big jumpers, hot chocolate; pictured her hiding from the sun, studious and careful. I looked at her and thought the world would swallow her up.

I didn’t know – didn’t expect – that she had already chewed up and spat out the world long before I clapped eyes on her.

***

“That tea is too hot, you’ll burn yourself.”
Her voice sounded strange, cut through with an almost imperceptible sliver of harshness. I brought the cup closer to my lips.

“I said. Put. It. DOWN.”

She was wearing a pale orange sun dress, lying back into the rich leather sofa, Cleopatra-like. Regally stirring brown sugar into her own drink.

This was our third coffee shop hookup of the Summer. Usually we just sipped our drinks slowly, split a slice of something covered in chocolate and then found a quiet corner to make out in for an hour or so. Low-key. I’m older, but she’s more experienced. Both sub-leaning. We shared our secrets – the ones that made our blood run cold with anticipatory glee – and committed them to memory. I tied her wrists with Alice-blue ribbon and beat her with a crop one evening, but that was an anomaly. The exception to the rule. She leads, I follow.

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