Dynamics of Lesbian Love.
Time has come for the Indian women to wake up to soft, delicate, hot & steamy lesbian pleasures. The kind of feed backs I have been getting from readers proves beyond a doubt that of late Indian women have started pursuing the pleasure and satisfaction of this safe method. Its always there deep in the mind of conservative Indian women at large slowly but surely lesbianism is expanding its horizons across the sub continent. Well if this gives you pleasure that till date thought as a privilege of male dominated society, broken are the chains of bondage & today the ultra modern women of India are proving day in and day out they are equal to men.
Going back to the dark lusty desires of our heroin Malathi the reader of English at the University in a small town called Chidambaram of Tamil Nadu. This is the story that happens on the most celebrated day of lovers. . . . . . . . .yes the Valentine’s Day. A young but hot student of Malathi tells us her sexperiences on this lovely day and her name was Neeta a Guju girl of those settled in Tamil Nadu for a long time now. She well built with an inviting colour complexion, which purely belongs to the Aryans. Here is what the horse has to say from its own mouth.
From my bedroom window it didn’t look as if it was going to rain it was still so misty when I woke up this morning. Lying in bed tucked under the blanket I spent at least four minutes attempting to motive myself to crawl out into the cold air and turn off the alarm clock that had been buzzing for the past hour or so- or at least I assume it was buzzing for the past hour, one can never be sure of these things when she tends to incorporate the sound of the alarm into some random erotic dream that inspires quite the orgasmic awakening.
Not unlike my typical morning, I awoke with my hand pressed firmly between my thighs and felt lukewarm drips of moisture falling onto my fingertips. I lie there for a minute, ignoring the devious sound of the buzzer, and closed my eyes to finish the fantasy which I had drifted to sleep contemplating during the night previous. But this morning was indeed different from other mornings. I quickly remembered why I had been victim of a terrible case of insomnia the night before courtesy reader Malathi’s stunning looks which even a women envy.
“Today is Valentine’s Day,” I remembered with a sudden chill of resentment. Although my anti-capitalist tendencies should denote my lack of care regarding this Hallmark holiday, I can’t help but- being the girl that I am- long to feel loved on a day set aside as a holiday to celebrate- not being alone. Removing my fingers from my pajama pants, I lifted up the curtain to study the view that our house offered looking over the magnificent University building in this small sleepy town of Chidambaram.
One step at a time, my bare toes gently traced themselves across the freezing tile flooring, picking up speed as the surrounding temperature became further apparent, spreading goosebumps on my flesh and, as I noticed when I arrived in the bathroom and removed my night shirt, causing my nipples to become quite hard.
Standing in front of the mirror, I allowed my fingertips to examine each nipple, first left- then right. My fingers must have been as cold as the tile floor, for when my hand graced my nipple, even slightly; I felt a pulsating chill rush through my body. I reached over to the shower faucet and turned it on, studying the thick steam rising from its heat tainting the pure and frigid air.
Turning again to the mirror, I allowed my fingers to gently pinch my right nipple, enjoying the sensation of arousal tickling from my chest down through my stomach and aggressively down to my cunt. Squeezing harder, this sensation increased, for a moment at a rate I was unprepared for which lead me to gasp for air.
By now the room was full of steam, and the shower was more than ready for my entrance. Besides, there was nothing better than a nice, long, hot shower to make one feel less alone, or at least remind one that there are certainly benefits to being alone- even on Valentines Day. Pity if someone thought this day was only for the love of a Adam & Eve no one prevents Eve & Eve celebrating this day.
The scalding hot spray of water against my stunned back took only a few moments to adjust to as I turned my naked body around slowly to allow the water to press against my sides, my stomach, my chest, my thighs-
Almost too hot for me to bear, I was tempted to step out of the shower and lower the temperature, but something about the slight tinge of pain as each razor sharp bead of steaming wetness stung my flesh was oddly appealing. Wrapping my arms around my body, squeezing my back, I imagined what it would feel like to be held right then, to be held tightly- to be kissed and sucked and nibbled on- I tried to imagine how the pain of pleasure would compare with the stinging of the water against my flesh.
In the sleepy 1st hour class she walked into the room on the first day of class with a huge grin on her face, more as a cover of insecurity than a proclamation of confidence. I found this incredibly sexy. She was a last minute replacement professor for my Composition and Rhetoric course, looked not a day older than 34 or 35. But age certainly wasn’t what I had in mind when she first stepped foot into the classroom. Well built, with gentle smooth and silky of shoulder length black hair and huge angelic eyes, my own irises traced the curvature of her face before sliding down to slip over and imagine her nakedness.
Needless to say, I had a hard time paying any attention in class, as whenever I thought I was deep in concentration I actually was off daydreaming about running the tips of my fingers ever so gently up her inner thigh, feeling her warmth, pushing her down onto the table and kissing her with a force that was not unwanted, but was unexpected in the sense that she would be shocked into the immediate wetness lubricating her cunt, her desire for what she had never thought possible to desire. Her guilt, her want, her longing to escape all the social constrictions, the insecurity, the feeling of inadequacy that had sculpted her into a kind, smiling, constrained person hiding her true self, made me want her even more.
And so I spent countless hours in class pondering what I would do to her if only a chance were to arise, although I knew for a fact that it was very much a distant dream still, I couldn’t help but imagine her, staying late in her office, working on a syllabus for a new class next quarter, happening to run into me in the halls of the nearly desolate University, starting a conversation- inviting me into her office- and then of course, one thing would lead to another.
All these thoughts- well, they seemed appropriate for this morning. Without a boyfriend or girlfriend to celebrate this day of love with, what else could I do? All of my friends were busy spending the day doing this or that, arguing over whose plans were more romantic than the others. In the end, the romance only leads to getting laid- but still, it seems that somehow on a day like today, even someone like me turns into a sappy romantic. A sappy, depressed romantic, that is.
I returned to my thoughts of my professor, as thinking about how all my friends were out for early morning strolls with their significant others was making me significantly nauseous. The other day in class she informed us of how she was going to spend the day with her husband on Valentine’s Day, but only at night, because he had to go out of town for the weekend on business.
Business. Wonder what kind of business he’s in. Probably some prince charming look-alike. I wouldn’t mind joining in- I mean- if he was around, I think that would be kind of hot…
I hadn’t really thought about it before, but suddenly I became quite aroused by the idea of meeting her husband and fucking them both. Without a physical image of my professor’s husband in my head, it was quite hard to get a believable fantasy situation into my mind. But of course, as I am the queen of make-believe when it comes to these sorts of things, it didn’t take long before I could picture myself spending Valentines Day wrapped in the arms of the loving couple, rest of the day dragged forever and ever.
I made up my mind to give it a last ditch effort by visiting her quarters late in the evening and there my lovely angel said “Come in” Come in? I couldn’t believe that any of this was happening. I was half convinced that I was still asleep. Then I figured this had to be real- after all, if it were a dream I’d be fucking her by now-
“I got a message from my hubby- he says he’s running a bit late, it really hurts to think you are a lone at the end of lovely Valentine’s day. I don’t really have much- just some books- a 13 inch TV- no cable. Nothing too interesting.
“Thanks for dropping in Neeta, you’re really sweet, you know that?”
I blushed. I wonder if she noticed.
“I remember when I had no valentine on V-Day. It’s kind of lonely.”
“You can say that again.”
I got up and walked into the kitchen, because I couldn’t bare sitting in the same room as her for a moment longer, I wanted her so badly and due to having stimulated myself only minutes before dropping into her house I was more than ready to fuck her. She looked so incredible, sitting there, done up in her valentines day sexy cotton sari that was covering each of her curves and cut I wanted to take her right then and there and…
But I couldn’t.
“Would you like a drink,” she asked.
“Sure. Whisky on the rocks. ”
“On second thought, it’s valentines day, and both of us are lacking valentines for one reason or another. How about we have a another drink?
“Yea.”
“Alright, I’ll take a Kingfisher lager then. If it’s not a problem of course.”
I must admit I went a little heavy on the beverages. Hey, it’s not like I was going to have another chance like this again. I mean, I’m not much of a believer in fate- but sometimes these things that happen- for a reason or by utter coincidence- can’t be hurt if nudged along- if they’re meant to be and all…
“Thank you,” she said with a smile as she gazed up directly into my eyes. Her hand touched mine as it took hold of the cup that I was clutching in my grasp, and I swear at the moment we touched she, perhaps for the first time, felt a bit of what I was feeling—but she, of course, smiled brightly and shook it off, probably convincing herself that she was imagining things- or that even thinking such a thing was wrong. She was a Tamilian after all.
She looked at me, but didn’t say anything.
I looked back at her. We must have stared into each others eyes for six minutes. I couldn’t take it anymore. I allowed my hand to first fall onto her knee, in a way that could be read as accidental. When she didn’t back away, I leaned slowly towards her, to see if she noticed my hand was slowly but surely applying pressure to her knee, and began to work its way up her sari covered thighs.
She had stopped smiling that charming smile. She didn’t seem to need it anymore.
I could feel her body and mind fighting with itself, refusing to give in to want, but also refusing to get up and leave. Meanwhile, I had never been this aroused in my entire life. Her soft lips, round, voluptuous breasts and strong, graceful belly underneath a grey cotton sari drew me into her eyes, and there I was lost.
Yet luckily enough, my hand had a mind of its own. I leaned in, the palm of my hand still moving up her thigh. Everything else still and calm. Like the air before a storm, she sat there, I could feel her desire burning, her body quaking, her lips trembling, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing.
And then, I found her. I found her with my hands following a magnetic force, gently spreading apart her legs benneth the sari as they slid up into her warmth.
I cupped her cunt in my hand, and could wait no more. My body pressed against hers, my hand now reaching into her panties, my lips melting into hers. Her silence is broken by a soft moan, and I know she’s mine. For this morning, for this moment, I have her at my mercy. She wants nothing more than to be pleased by me, to experience this new, exciting feeling- to- let go, and allow her self to float in rhythmic bliss against my body, now warm and nearly dry.
We somehow fall to the floor, it isn’t a long way down, and the cold tiles are suddenly refreshing. As carefully as possible, I remove her sari from her body my left hand as I massage her breast with my right. Still, we are staring into each others eyes. It’s impossible to look away.
Using both hands, I undressed of what ever was left on her body, leaving just her sandals, feeling the warmth of her bare flesh against my skin. While I still have my tops and jeans pants on, there she stands, nearly naked, with only her heels and panties on that are drenched between her legs. Her breasts dangle softly, I reach to them with my free hand and draw my mouth to her left nipple, using my tongue to outline her mauve circles and then closing in on the point, sucking vigorously and inducing tiny whimpers of pleasure caught in between gasps for air.
Her hands grasped my shoulders, the rest of her remained still, frozen- afraid to move- afraid to admit that she wanted this. Afraid to admit she was standing here, drunk, or at least buzzed, with one of her students- one of her female students- and yet- I felt her arms lift me to her lips. She kissed me back. She kissed me back with the force of all her pent up yearnings, holding the back of my head with her hand and pulling my torso in close with the other.
Suddenly, the tables were turned. This wasn’t at all like I had imagined in my countless fantasies. Well, it had begun like any of them—but now, much to my surprise, she has taken charge. But I don’t want to give up control. I don’t want her to have it that easy. Having control is the easy part. Having to let go- that’s what’s hard.
We kiss with such force, if anyone had seen it they’d define it violent, and yet our heads moved together as one, our tongues made love to each other in swirls and tickles and twirls, and our arms clung to each other so tightly it felt as though we might either merge together or tear the other one apart.
She threw me against the wall, pulled off the cloth and made me put up my hands up over my head in the air above my head. She kissed me again, and began to repeat what I had done to her moments earlier- she lowered her head to my breasts, gently sucking each nipple, using her arms to squeeze my ass, my thighs, and hesitantly running quickly over my dripping pussy.
While my left arm was still held against the wall above my head quite tightly, I managed to free my right hand and return it to her cunt. This time, I slipped my fingers right into the waist band of her panties and found her wetness. Slowly, I allowed my fingers to feel her, she moaned, even louder now, and as one finger entered her drenched hole she let go of my other arm entirely.
Dropping my right arm to her waist, I pulled her in close, which allowed me great control in finger fucking her- first very slowly- as I’ve been with women before who prefer a sensitive stroke, but as she began to grind her hips into the palm of my hand, I knew she was not one of these women.
I allowed my finger to fuck her fiercely and relentlessly, and added another finger when I felt she was wet enough to take it. By now she was moaning louder and louder against her will, her lips quivering aggressively, her body falling again to the ground, unable to stand up anymore.
I gently guide her to the floor, keeping my fingers inside her wetness, fucking her in and out and in- on top of her, my bare breasts dangle against hers, our lips meet once again for a kiss.
But I pull away, now fucking her more slowly, I stare into her eyes and a smile from inside of me escapes my lips. I love watching her, lying there, her eyes wide open, knowing I’m inside her, knowing that all I want right now is to make her cum over and over and over again. Her cunt is so warm, it wraps itself around my fingers like a tiny cocoon, clinging to me, holding me inside.
I lower my head, first kissing her neck, allowing my tongue to circle around its delicate skin. Lower- my lips again nibble briefly on her shoulder blades, her breasts, her stomach-
My tongue traces a straight line down from her belly button, down to the top of her panties, which I now promptly remove.
I stare at her, lying naked below me, her hips pressing slightly into the air, her eyes still fixated on mine.
I spread her pussy lips apart with my fingers; the tip of my tongue immediately finds her swollen clit and licks it ever so slowly. She smells sweet like white chocolate and tastes even sweeter. Whimpering a moan of extraordinary pleasure I feel her legs tense up around my face. Her hands reach down to my head as she runs her fingers through my hair as an excuse to press my mouth closer to her pussy.
Soon she is thrusting herself against my lips. I allow my fingers to reenter her cunt, but continue to suck her clit and massage her body with my free hand. It is obvious she is about to cum, but I’m not ready for this to be over.
I pull out, remove my tongue from her cunt, and return to lie above her and gaze into her eyes. We kiss. Her wide eyes are glistening with a hint of mischief. She rolls over and pushes me onto my back, her mouth suddenly on my clit- although it is obvious she isn’t sure what she’s doing, she is determined to get me to cum, and she knows very well what these things feel like to her, and just the knowing that I am here, in her apartment, on top of me naked with her mouth on my cunt is- enough.
As I feel a spark rising in my pussy, I pull her face up to mine and lying there, naked against her, rub my wetness against hers, rolling over again so that I can be on top. Feeling her cunt against mine as I gaze into her eyes just feels so incredibly right for some reason. We no longer kiss, we just look at each other and rub our pussies together in erotic contentment for quite some time, both on the verge of cumming, both wanting this moment to last forever.
Suddenly, her body begins to quake, her thighs clench together, she moans more loudly than she had been all evening, and she pulls me in close for a kiss, thrusting herself against my body with no control, wrapping her legs tightly around me.
Feeling her cum under my body drives me to bliss- the tingle turns into a burning sensation which turns into an explosion- my entire body quakes against hers, for one instant we melt together, our eyes no longer necessary as means of sight- we enter each others souls for that moment of ecstasy, and she drifts to sleep with her head resting against my chest but I don’t dare wake her. Instead my eyelids became heavy as I study her breath and I fall asleep right next to her, wrapped up in her arms.
Happy Valentine’s Day
Readers I wanted to make this story a special one as it is my twenty-fifth on this lovely site. While all the way I had been supporting and holding high the banner of Lesbianism and nothing comes to my mind when we talk of love, but just St., Valentine only that here its two women celebrating the “D” day. Please your comments & feed backs to
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