Best Lesbian Erotica 2011

ART SCHOOL CONFIDENTIAL Kenzie Mathews

Bella was pretending to sleep when I came in from painting class, artfully arranged on the couch like a Courbet nude. Her ass, apple-curl up, faced the door, her plump pale legs were spread in drowsy abandon; one arm was hanging off the couch, the other pressed beneath her, cradling her breast. Her long strawberry-blonde hair curled down her bare back like a golden river. I would have actually thought her sleeping if not for the glistening wet at her slightly opened pussy lips. She’d been fingering there, preparing herself while listening for my footsteps on the stair. She’d pushed herself to the edge, waiting for me.

I dropped my paint box and carry easel to the floor and groaning, put my mouth on her there. Her musk, which had been growing colder, warmed under my lips and tongue. Moaning, Bella attempted to turn over, but I stopped her, my hand on her hip. Squatting at the end of the couch, my mouth never leaving her cunt, I lifted her thighs over my shoulder and I drank.

Bella panted, one hand coming down to stroke her clit as I ate her, tongue darting inside her, teeth nibbling and sucking on her fat labia. My fingers joined my mouth, tugging at her piercings, stroking her clit as her wet fingers stroked my face, and my tongue licked upward, hungrily, at her round cherry clitoris. My cum-soaked fingers, gooey and warm, found her ass. Spreading it, they entered, slow and steady as my tongue continued to assault her clitoris, tickling it through the hood. Bella’s cunt bounced against my face, dampening my cheeks, my nose, my closed eyes with her cum. God, she could get so wet, the smell of her aroused cunt an intoxicating incense that set my own cunt in motion.

This time when she tried to rise, to pull her thighs off my shoulder, I let her. She crouched then, on all fours on the couch, looking over her shoulder at me, her cunt and ass dripping. There were clips on her nipples to keep them red and hard, perfect for my nibbling teeth, suckling mouth and pulling fingers.

Bella asked huskily, “Please,” her chin nodding toward the dildo on the coffee table. Licking my lips, I laid a few fingers softly on her dewy cunt and ass. She moved up into my fingers, purring like a cat. I calmed her, laying my palm there, feeling her tremble beneath my hand.

“I need it,” Bella whispered. “I’ve wanted you all day.”

My palm still on her quavering cunt and ass, I reached over to the coffee table and picked up the dildo. A scent of clinical medicine hit my nose, the careful antiseptic flavor of lubrication. I’d already decided, but this excuse was as reliable as any.

“If you’ve thought of me all day, why is it that your cunt didn’t warm this toy?” I snarled in her ear.

“I… I didn’t want to cum without you….”

I put the dildo in her hand and filled my hand instead with one of her breasts. I kneaded it, pulling on the clip and nipple. Then, while she crouched there, the lubricated dildo in her hand, moaning as my fingers twisted her nipple, I slapped her rosy wet ass and cunt. Bella shrieked, surprised. I slapped her ass again and this time her cunt pressed wetly into my hand, clinging to me. I entered one finger, two fingers into her cunt, the tip of my thumb into her ass. I dipped, once, twice, then I pulled out and spanked her again sharply.

“Put it in you and count,” I told her. “But hold back, hold back until I tell you.”

Bella whimpered as I spanked her but, her hand trembling, the dildo found her cunt and then she swayed as I spanked her, coming up toward me to get her punishment, sliding in and out with the dildo to get the full fuck of it. By the time she’d reached ten, her ass was red hot and her cunt was fully indulged with the dildo, so much so that her cum and sweat poured down her inner thighs like dewy rain.

I kissed her ass, my mouth cooling her skin. Bella jumped when I put my tongue in her rosebud asshole and I sucked, kissing my way down to her cunt. I gently pulled the dildo out, moaning as the sound of it nearly made me cum. That slick, slippery wet sound of arousal, of release. I put my fingers in her, unable to stop myself. I stroked her swollen labia, her clit. She moaned under my hand, moving with me. God, she was still so wet.

“Kiss me, will you kiss me?” Bella murmured, shaking as I moved her gently into another position.

This time, I lay on my back on the couch, and I pulled her over me, squatting her warm ass, her wet, dripping, sorely-used cunt over my face, over my mouth and nose. Now, my lips brushing her, I whispered, “You can cum now, fully cum in my mouth, on my face.”

I ate her as she came on my face, her warm musk flooding my nose and mouth. I nearly drowned in her flood. With my knees bent and spread, my hands wasted no time filling my own cunt. Bella cried out, bouncing there on me as my tongue lapped, and I sucked and nibbled. I fucked myself with my hands, my neck straining to support my head so I could get to her juicy cunt. I slurped and swallowed, my fingers echoing my tongue and lips by entering my own cunt and stroking my clit.

When the shuddering release came, Bella slid her wet ass and cunt away from my face, and she sat on the floor next to the couch. She finally got her kiss, my tongue worn out, my jaw numb. This time, her hand joined my wet fingers and my hips lifted, welcoming her fully into my cunt as I came and released.

Bella got up then, to take a shower before work.

Hoarsely I called after her, “Don’t wear underwear. Let the bastards smell what they can’t have.”

Bella hung in the bathroom doorway. Smiling, daring me with her dark eyes, she said, “Come fuck me at the restaurant today.”

And god I wanted to. I wanted to take her, her short skirt lifted, my ridged strap-on tight in her cunt, her full breasts bouncing as she bent over one of those fake French café tables and everyone in the restaurant watched. Make her cum and cum again, screaming. Let all those stupid rich college boys know that Bella was mine. Bella belonged to me. She couldn’t be bought with Daddy’s money. She couldn’t be turned by some wealthy prick. I wasn’t her college experiment before marriage to a man, kids in the suburbs, PTA meetings, a satisfying home career… right? Insecurities suddenly plagued me. I mean, I’d been with other girls before Bella… but I was Bella’s first….

“I can’t, Bella,” I said finally, softly, with true hungry regret, “I gotta go to Art History.”

“Hmm,” Bella said from the bathroom. “And after class?”

Steam escaped the half-shut door as Bella turned on the shower.

“Mixing pigment at Janie’s studio. Stretching canvas,” I mumbled, and now I was seeing myself mixing pigment and stretching canvas as an old lady, alone in her house with rescued dogs and cats. Rich or poor, Recognized Artist or Starving, the scenario was the same… alone. Having chosen art over love, the great artist never regrets the decision… but I did already. I really, really did. I still had Bella in my mouth.

The bathroom door opened suddenly. Bella stood there, naked and blue. Well, covered in several shades of blue. Cobalt melted into Prussian, blended well with marine and cerulean, dripped heavily, wetly into sky and baby. She draped herself dramatically in the doorway, framing herself as a Pre-Raphaelite vision. Both Rossettis, Dante and Christina, would have wept to see her.

“What a shame,” Bella said, “I lied about going to work today. I called in sick this morning. I had hoped that we’d paint the apartment together.”

In that second, all of my insecurities fell away. Gay, straight, bi, experimenting, choosing, born that way: none of it mattered. The best of art and love was intangible, elusive, fleeting and yet eternal. It was all about making one true, real moment last forever.

I stepped toward her and took her in my arms. It was only my imagination but her kiss tasted of blueberries. In the new scenario in my head, the old lady artist took a break now and then to make love to her real-life muse. Having chosen both art and love, the Real Artist never regrets her decision….

“Oh,” Bella murmured into my mouth, “we’re never going to get the paint out of the carpet.”

“Naw,” I agreed, “it’ll stay in forever.”