A Sexy Lesbian Story
"Left in the Dark" erotica by A.M. Hartnett
The lights went out at eleven o'clock on Sunday night. Just
as I was in the middle of typing my brilliant assessment of Chaucer's “The
Miller's Tale,” the storm hit the downtown core, and six pages were gone, poof,
just like that. I resisted the urge to scream bloody murder and had a shot of
vodka instead, and by shot I mean a pint. By three o’clock, I was drunk and
passed out on the living room floor.
When I finally came to I discovered that I had rolled into
the front hall. There was a pounding inside my head and I was halfway to the
kitchen before I realized it wasn't my hangover that produced the pounding but
the front door. I refrained from reverting to lunatic mode by screeching at my
visitor about the appeal of the lovely, soothing doorbell chimes when a quick
glance at the VCR told me that the power had yet to be restored.
It was the lady from next door. This woman had been a source
of frustration since the beginning of the summer, having undertaken a massive
renovation project on her side of the fence. Every morning at seven o’clock on
the nose the workmen would start. First they raised the house another level,
then they built the basement and an extra room, and finally they pounded on the
ugliest yellow siding I had ever seen.
I had only ever seen my neighbor through the blur of my
sheer curtains as she came and went over the past two months. I had expected
her to be snooty like most others under fifty in my predominantly senior
neighborhood. She had always been well dressed with her hair impeccable. That
morning, she was without make-up and in grey sweats, her blonde hair messily
tucked in a ponytail.
“Sorry to bother you, but I notice you have a propane tank
on the other side. I hate to ask but I'm the asshole who decided to have the
wood stove removed in favor of electricity.” She smiled, her rosy cheeks
forming apples. “I'm Susan Burnett, from next door.”
I glanced over her shoulder to the house across the street.
Dave Webster and his three teenage sons wielded saws and axes and attacked a
gigantic tree that had barely missed the family Jeep. I then craned my neck
outside, wincing as the bright blue sky assailed my bleary eyes.
The neighborhood was a wreck. My little white house was
covered with leaves that had painted it puke-green. My car had been lucky. Just
grazing the bumper was a menacing maple that just twenty-four hours earlier had
been upright. The fence dividing my house from Susan Burnett's was a
checkerboard--one slat there, one slat gone.
“Damn.”
“Yeah.” Susan giggled. “You should see the back. Your
shed--”
“Don't tell me.” I closed my eyes and held back the sob that
was edging up. “Propane, yes, I have that. What do you need?”
“Hot water for instant coffee? Soup? I brought my own can.”
I chuckled as she held out her arms and shoved a can of tomato out of one coat
sleeve and a little soup thermos out of the other. “I've got teabags and my
travel mug in my pockets.”
She absolutely refused to settle down as I prepared her soup
and beverage, hopping from one foot to the other and looking around nervously.
Maybe she’s not snooty. Maybe she’s just really jittery
around strangers.
She was also extremely cute. Short, plump, and fair. She
reminded me of a wood nymph. Every time she smiled or giggled, which was
virtually at my every word, I felt a small tickle in my stomach.
“I was so scared last night! I've never heard winds like
that before. I thought the roof was going to come off.”
“Fortunately, I'm a deep sleeper.” It wasn't entirely a lie.
I preferred that my adorable new neighbor not know that I was a lush and hoped
she hadn't seen the evidence of my binge still congealing on the living room
floor.
“I called the power company this morning and they said it
could be days before we get the lights back. I feel so vulnerable over there
with no power.”
“Well, I'm alone here, too,” I pointed out as I filled her
thermos. “If you get lonely ...”
Her cheeks reddened and she giggled. “I might take you up on
that.”
I felt really sorry for her. New city, new neighborhood, new
house, and now virtually cut off.
I watched her round the fence and skip up the stairs of her
walkway, ponytail bouncing behind her.
Sweet girl.
* * *
I made as much headway as one could make surrounded by
debris. The aforementioned shed had been flattened and my backyard looked like
a giant game of pick-up-sticks. I meandered about with my hedge clippers and an
axe and kept one eye on the house next door, my interest in Susan Burnett
growing with each hour.
Without even a streetlamp, everything was mercilessly dark
that night. I tried to read by candlelight but it was unbearable on the eyes
and so I stepped outside, looking up at stars that were brighter than I had
ever seen them in the city. I lit a cigarette and drew several deep puffs
before I heard the squeak of hinges and a voice on the wind.
“Want a beer?”
“Sure.” I threw aside my cigarette and headed towards her
house.
She was out of her sweats and into a baby-doll gown covered
in little red hearts that stopped about mid-thigh. Without an ounce of modesty
she shuffled ahead of me through a darkened room to the kitchen that had lost
that old-lady flavor of the last owner. Piss-warm beer in one hand and a pillar
candle in the other, I followed her to the living room and we crashed on the
plush sofa to chat. All the while I took discreet peeks at her, from purple
painted toes to her round breasts pressing against cotton to the irresistible
pout of her bottom lip.
I learned all about her life growing up in a prairie town,
her love for kids and her painful shyness. I praised her gumption for moving so
far from home all by herself and she lauded my benevolence for putting up with
her jitters, then thanked me with a relieved sigh when I offered to spend the
night.
Shortly after, though, I regretted my offer. Not because I
was bored with her company but my attraction to her was getting to be too much.
I was getting wet as I watched her shift in her seat, her curves immaculate
beneath the flimsy gown. I had purposely edged closer to her until our knees
were almost touching but I was anxious of making her uncomfortable. I didn’t
want to come off like the lecherous neighbor bent on getting between her legs.
It was past midnight, so we decided to retire. She
disappeared down the hall and, disappointed, I laid my head down. I wondered if
she was a deep sleeper and if I could get away with slipping my hand beneath
the waistband of my sweatpants.
“There's room for two,” she called after a few minutes and
my stomach flip-flopped.
Maybe she’s just being nice, I thought while I lit my own
way, but there was no questioning her invitation when I found the bedroom.
Susan lay on the bed, the hem of her nightie pulled up to the tops of her legs.
I was so hungry for her that I shook as I pulled off my
clothes and joined her in the bed, clamping my mouth over hers and slipping my
hand between her thighs.
God, she was wet, and so ready, wriggling out of her nightie
and pulling me close. My mouth moved downward, sucking her taut nipple into my
mouth. She lay back, humming her satisfaction with every stroke of my tongue.
“Play with my pussy,” she murmured in a low, pleading voice.
I scooted downwards and nestled between her legs, already
spread for me. Her cunt was golden and glistening in the candlelight, lips
swollen and her clit peeking out from beneath the hood.
I used my fingers at first, tickling circles around the
mouth of her wet pussy and wriggling the tip of my finger inside her. I was
delighted to find out she was a moaner, whimpering and panting while I toyed
with her cunt, deliberately avoiding her engorged clit to prolong the torture.
“You’ve got such a fuckable cunt,” I told her. I used two
fingers to spread her pussy lips and letting my mouth linger just over her
clit. “I just wanna ...”
She looked down, her pixie face scrunched in agony as I
wiggled my tongue around the sensitive hood. “Lick it.”
I laughed. “Who's so shy now?”
I slid my tongue from the base of her slit to her clit,
once, twice, again and again. Her ass came right off the bed with every pass.
Round and round I went and she moaned, leading my hands up to her tits. She
went wild when I plucked at her rigid nipples between thumb and forefinger.
Beneath my tongue her clit throbbed. I moved my head back
and forth and greedily sucked her, and then I slid two fingers under my chin
and pumped away until she was so excited she almost choked. Anyone passing by
outside might have thought I was killing her for all the noise she made when
she came, the slick walls of her cunt contracting around my fingers.
“Oh wow,” was all she said in a breathless moan.
“I'm not done with you yet.”
I positioned my body between her legs, shifting until we
were so close I could feel her pulse on my own pussy.
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“Yes, yes.” She wriggled her bottom in anticipation. The
insides of my thighs were slick with my own juices; I was just as wet as she
was.
Her cunt was so slick rubbing against mine and there was no
better feeling in the world than her nails digging into my buttocks as I rolled
my hips. Pleasure mingled with regret; I wished I had taken her home with me to
my box of toys. Sordid images of all the things I could do to her flashed
before my eyes, uplifting my vehemence to a fevered pitch.
I pinned her to the bed so that our tits bounced together. I
gripped her thighs, grinding our pussies together in a hot, sticky mess.
She panted, already coming along with me. When my climax
hit, it was a doozy. My head pounded and I couldn’t draw a breath. Susan dug
her nails into me and I welcomed the sting as my clit throbbed and adrenaline
raced through my veins. I collapsed on top of her and we remained panting
together in a tangled, gasping muddle.
As the night stretched, we came together almost as soon as
we had recovered. Susan may have been withdrawn but she was wild in bed. I couldn't
get enough of her, suckling and nipping her into frenzied chaos. She proved
just as skilled at eating me, her own moans vibrating through me and making me
come even harder than I’d come the first time. Though she enjoyed the
submissive role she also established herself as a commanding lover, delivering
sharp little slaps to my ass and making me beg for it while she kneeled and
finger-fucked me into oblivion.
Morning came and we were both exhausted. We snoozed lightly,
still wrapped around each other before rising for one final bit of fun before I
slipped into my clothes.
“Power should be out tonight, too,” she said beneath my lips
as I bent to kiss her, and then she grinned. “Unless you have plans.”
“My only plan is to come back over here with a goody bag.” I
smacked a kiss to her belly. “I'll bring the hot coffee.”
“Don’t forget the batteries.”
I arched a brow. “Shy, my ass.”
Originally published January 2010