Lesbian erotica...
"The Surrogate," a sex story by Logan Belle
Violet exited the stage to applause, foot stomping, and whistling. She loved being the showstopper – the final performer. Burlesque was all about teasing the audience – forcing them to wait for the big reveal: a corset removed to broadcast bare breasts, the tilt of a fan to show an inch of thigh. But the ultimate reveal was the last performance of the evening, and Violet knew how to milk it for all it was worth.
She knew she would be the one the guys were thinking about later that night as they fondled their still-hard cocks. And hopefully the one the girls thought about when they ate each other out. They were the ones she was really performing for – all those cute lesbians who came to the show as a warm-up to their own lovemaking.
Like that couple who came every Friday night for an entire month: a redhead and an Asian girl who sat in the front row. On the last night, the pretty Asian came up to her and introduced herself as Annie. Her friend, Lillian, was going back to Ireland—it was the end of the semester. Did she want to come to the going away party?
Yes. She did.
The next night, Violet followed the directions from Annie’s text to a dingy apartment off of Avenue A. She climbed six flights of stairs to a small room filled with drunk undergrads dancing to bad house music and drinking cheap booze and flat beer from a keg. Violet hadn’t hung out at parties like that even when she was in college, so she certainly wasn’t going to start now that she was three years free of that scene. She was just about to hightail it out of there when Annie appeared by her side, taking her by the elbow.
“The real party is in the back. Wait here a sec – don’t leave, okay?”
Violet nodded, watching her slip back in the crowd. Jay Z’s “99 Problems” played off the iDoc. She began a mental countdown from 20 and resolved to leave at 1.
She reached 3 when she spotted Annie weaving back to her through the crowd. She grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom. It was dark—only a desk lamp was on and a black t-shirt was tossed over the lampshade. The room smelled like cigarette smoke; Violet hated cigarettes.
Annie’s friend, Lillian, was on the bed. She was naked and blindfolded, her arms tied to the headboard.
How Will You Feel by China Hamilton, available at ObsessionArt.com
“Your going away present has arrived,” Annie said to the girl, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.
Violet was about to give her a piece of her mind and tell her she was a performer, not a call girl. Then she looked closer at the girl on the bed. With her red hair and pale, cream-colored skin, she reminded her of someone else she knew. Someone she had fantasized about getting in this exact same position. But despite her bravado on stage, Violet didn’t have the nerve to reach out to that woman. She could stand the lukewarm response of a bad audience, but the thought of rejection from that woman was more than she could bare. She would rather feel nothing than risk that.
Violet moved to the edge of the bed, peering closer. She reached out and cupped Lillian’s breasts. The girl stirred only slightly, mouth open and nearly breathless. She hadn’t made a sound since Violet entered the room.
Her breasts were bigger than those of the woman she really wanted, but that woman’s body was an impossible standard. Lillian was close enough—close enough for Violet to close her eyes and take a nipple into her mouth. Close enough for her to slide her mouth down the length of her lean torso, pausing at her hips.
Violet sat back on her knees, and lifted off her tank top. The girl shifted her hips impatiently. Violet turned back to her, placing her hands on her thighs and gently spreading her legs. Her pussy was completely bare, just the way she liked it. Violet ran her finger along the girl’s pink outer lips. She couldn’t wait to taste her.
“Take off your jeans,” breathed Annie from behind. Violet considered telling her to fuck off, but then thought better of it. As long as she was here she might as well increase her chances of getting off as well. She hopped off the bed, easing off her pants. She kept on her black thong, and turned back to Lillian, who had spread her legs wider. Violet got on her knees, ass in the air, and flicked her tongue against Lillian’s pussy. She wondered what Annie thought of the view.
She pressed her tongue deeply into Lillian’s cunt, and the girl finally emitted a sound—a short, breathy gasp. Violet felt a stirring between her own legs, and was happy to sense Annie moving around behind her. She didn’t know what the woman was going to do, but anticipated it would feel good.
She focused on Lillian, moving her mouth to her inner thigh and slipping one finger inside of her. The girl clenched her thighs against Violet’s hand, and Violet made her motions quicker.
From behind, Annie grinded her slippery cunt against Violet, reaching around to fondle her breasts. Violet just wanted her to finger fuck her, to hopefully get her off quickly and finally relieve her pent up sexual frustration.
Violet sucked on Lillian’s clit, and the girl yelled out, “Don’t stop,” in her heavy brogue. It jarred Violet, breaking her fantasy that she was eating the woman she dreamed about, reminding her that she was instead with an exchange student in a crappy apartment building filled with people chugging beer. The woman she wanted would never be in this situation.
And because of this, even when Annie moved her fingers expertly inside her, even when she tasted Lillian coming, even when they were finished and both women gazed at her with adoration and told her she was the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen, Violet felt nothing.
She was tired of feeling nothing.
Maybe, just maybe, she would rather feel rejection.
Copyright October 2010, Logan Belle
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.
Originally published October 2010
