Best Lesbian Erotica 2011

THE NUMBER 91 Heidi Champa

Moving to the city had meant giving up many things, but my car was the first to go. There was no place to park it at my new apartment and paying for a space across town seemed pointless. So, I bid it farewell and sold it to a new, and hopefully loving, owner. It would be public transportation for me, from now on. While I missed the joys of singing along to the radio and putting on my makeup at stoplights, at least I could console myself with the idea that I was helping to save the environment.

I stood on the narrow swath of cement, waiting for the Number 91 tram. Every day, it was the same routine: the 7:40 a.m. and the 5:17 p.m. The trams were usually on time, not like the buses. That was a lesson I learned the hard way, after being late for work three days in a row. So, I started waiting for the loud, rumbling cars every morning, and I hadn’t missed a single meeting since.

The trams also provided an added bonus I hadn’t counted on. Every Monday, Thursday and Friday, I got to ride home with Stella. She was gorgeous, even in the awful blue-gray transit authority uniform. It seemed a crime to put someone so beautiful into something so ugly, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. Her sewn-on name tag stuck out from under her long dark hair, and from the first day I read her name, Stella was burned into my brain. I always sat at the front of the car so I could stare at her through the glass partition.

I had only spoken to her once, but that was all it took. It was the first day I stepped on the tram; the very first time I saw her perfect face. I realized I didn’t know how the ticket system worked, and I panicked a bit before biting the bullet and asking for help. I tapped on the little windowed compartment and Stella turned and gave me a nod.

“How much for the weekly pass?” I asked, then smiled. Her blue eyes were so distracting, I almost forgot why I was standing there. She smiled back, her rose-pink lips stretching over her almost too-perfect teeth.

“The machine is right back there; it will give you the ticket. The weekly pass is seven-fifty.”

She wasn’t impatient or angry. She didn’t even give me the look of pity that the rest of the city folk had perfected for people like me—just that smile. I almost stumbled, my high heel slipping on the grooved walkway as the tram lurched forward. I recovered and headed back to the machine to buy my ticket, fumbling with my money, trying to remain cool and calm despite my pounding heart. After that, I was hooked. But I never talked to her again. There was no legitimate reason for me to engage her, despite my efforts to think of one. So, I had to be content to look at her and admire her from afar.

I become an expert with a monthly pass, like most of the people around me. I was a regular. Every day that Stella drove we shared a smile, and I sat and watched her through the glass. Occasionally, she glanced my way, in her casual, offhand manner. When she did, I felt my body tighten and my insides turn to mush. Being new to the city, I didn’t have many friends. Stella managed to make me feel less alone, without ever saying a word. Somehow, knowing she was there made me feel like I had someone to count on, even though we were strangers.

I started to learn my way around the city and ventured out beyond my little neighborhood. I even managed to convince a few friendly people that I wasn’t a total hick—no small feat with the accent I had. Even with my newfound comfort and community, Stella remained my touchstone. During those rides home, I couldn’t stop glancing her way, looking at her lovely profile and trying to grow the courage to say something, anything to her. As we screeched our way through the city over the tramlines, I couldn’t help but wonder what her voice might sound like, how her hands might feel on my body.

One Friday night, after a long day, I waited patiently for the tram that would take me home. My stomach contracted, as it always did, as the Number 91 pulled up to the stop. All I could think about were Stella’s soft blue eyes that would soon be staring back at me. But, as I entered, a different face looked down from the window. It was the usual Tuesday driver. His shock of red hair and messy beard gave him away immediately. I hesitated a few seconds, until the person behind me shoved me forward. I swayed with the tram down the street, my mind wandering. It was weird how thrown I was by her absence. I relied on Stella to always be there. Even though she just drove the tram, I felt more alone than I had in months. I shook my head, trying to get my composure back, but the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach wouldn’t go away.

At home, I went through the motions of getting ready for a night out; a night out I wasn’t particularly interested in. But I had promised my friends, and I didn’t have a good excuse to cancel on such short notice. What was I supposed to say? I can’t go out because the girl I pine for wasn’t on the tram today. It sounded sad, even to me.

Bar after bar, drink after drink, all I could think about was Stella. I was finally ready to talk to her. I had it all worked out. The end of the line was only three stops from my house. I was going to wait until the last stop and ask her some banal question, just to buy some time with her. Not a great plan, but it was the best I had come up with. At least now I would have more time to think of something clever to say, something that would make her see how much I liked her. It would just have to wait until after the weekend. If I had waited this long, a few more days weren’t going to kill me.

As the shot glass in my hand hit the bar, I was finally starting to feel a bit better. Even drunk, my brain was annoyingly lucid, my sorrows finally starting to drown. I bid my new friends farewell and headed for the reliable old 91 that arrived in mere moments. Late-night trams were usually slow and only arrived every thirty minutes. But as most city dwellers knew, you timed your last drink according to tram time. I could see the lights in the distance as I leaned against the cool Plexiglas of the enclosure. As the tram came skidding to a halt, I could have sworn my drunken eyes were playing tricks: it was her behind the glass. Stella—waiting to greet me with her smile. I walked onto the tram, my mouth gaping open. I fumbled with my purse to find my ticket, but no matter how much I dug, it refused to be found. She kept her eyes on me, and the few people on the tram were too drunk to care about the delay. She finally motioned me past, her small hand waving for me to sit down.

I sat before the tram lurched and wound down the deserted streets. The stops came and went, and my fellow tipsy passengers trickled off, finally leaving Stella and me alone. My stop was next, and I saw my chances dwindling with each block we passed. When we came to my stop, the tram shimmied to a halt. Stella looked at me; the doors opened for me to pass through. But I didn’t move. I just held her gaze, my eyes refusing to leave hers. After a few seconds, she closed the door, and the tram continued down the street, all the way to the end of the line. I sat there in silence, my stomach flipping over as Stella turned the lights off, putting the tram out of service. Suddenly, the glass door that kept her separated from the rest of the tram opened, and for the first time, I saw all of Stella. She was shorter than me, her long dark hair hanging down her back stopping just above her ass. That horrible uniform didn’t do much for her, but her curves were still visible through the coverall-style outfit. It was strange being so close to her, and my whole body registered the proximity. My mouth started moving before I could stop it, the first thing on my mind suddenly coming out of my lips.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You weren’t on the five seventeen.”

I felt so self-conscious. Stella just walked toward me and sat down, leaving very little space between us. The fabric of her uniform brushed against my leg and I could barely breathe.

“Lewis needed to switch. I took his night shift. Lucky for you, I guess.”

Her voice was like honey, seeping into my brain and making me swoon. It was not what I imagined it would be. It was better. She slid her hand over my leg, starting at the knee and working her way up. It was such a bold gesture, at least to me. I tried not to look stunned, but I don’t think I succeeded. Her hand stopped when it reached the top of my thigh, the hem of my skirt bunching a little under her fingers. I felt a surge of panic run through me, and I started to protest, even though I really didn’t want her to stop.

“Stella, what are you doing?”

She smiled and her demeanor was easy and calming.

“Something I think we both want. I realized if I waited for you to make the first move, I’d be waiting forever.”

Stella leaned closer to me, and my throat felt in danger of closing up. She continued talking, clearly ignoring my nervousness.

“You know, you should really be wearing panty hose under that skirt. It’s a little chilly tonight.”

Before I had the chance to say anything, she kissed me. Her lips were so soft I almost didn’t feel them at first. But her tongue was insistent, swirling into my mouth and taking my breath away. Her hand ran underneath my skirt this time, nudging my thighs apart, but she didn’t stop there. Her confident fingers kept moving upward until they rested dangerously close to my pussy, making me gasp. I thought she would stop, but she didn’t. Her fingers moved again, this time reaching my center and finding my panties wet.

“But you don’t feel chilly at all. In fact, you seem a little hot.”

Stella smiled and ran her finger between my cunt lips, pressing the cotton fabric against my sensitive skin. Her mouth was back on mine, as I urged my hips forward. She was teasing me, pulling away every time I tried to push harder against her hand. I could feel her smile under my lips, knowing she was driving me crazy.

“Stand up.”

Stella’s voice echoed off the wall of the tram. The dark was pierced by the nearby streetlight, giving us just enough illumination to see each other. I stood and walked to the center of the car, resting my back against the pole busy commuters had hung on to all day. She dropped down in front of me, her knees touching my feet. I could barely see the blue of her eyes in the dark. Her hands traced up my thighs, under my skirt and began to tug my panties down. I stepped out of them, moving slowly on my heavy legs. Starting at my knee, Stella’s tongue meandered up toward my pussy. I tried to push my hips forward toward her mouth, but she continued on, licking down my other leg. Again, I could feel the smile on her lips, her amusement at my torture. Her fingers found my pussy lips, now naked.

“Stella.”

It was all my mind could manage at that moment. The rest of my thoughts were too jumbled to express. Her thumb pressed my clit, a single finger sliding inside me and pulling all the way back out. She reached her hand to her mouth and licked her finger. A tiny gasp escaped my lips while I watched her. She looked sexier than any woman I had ever seen, even with the ugly uniform hugging her frame. Her moist finger slid back inside me and again came all the way out. While she thrust slowly, she continued to tease the tip of my clit with her soaking wet thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure. Over and over she plunged her finger inside me and left me empty again. I was practically whimpering for her to speed up, but she kept things at her pace.

“Do you want me to lick that sweet pussy? Is that what all the fuss is about up there?”

She knew exactly what I wanted and yet still didn’t give it to me. I didn’t think I could manage to say the words out loud, but looking at her face, I knew she wouldn’t continue without them.

“Yes. Please, Stella. Lick my pussy. Stop teasing me.”

She smiled up at me, as she thrust two fingers into my weeping cunt. Finally, after several more agonizingly slow strokes, I felt the warm tip of her tongue wash over me, my clit throbbing at the contact. Her lips closed over my tender flesh, tugging my clit to rapt attention. Her fingers kept moving inside me, the sounds of my moans filling the empty tramcar. My knees felt like they were ready to give out, so I reached above my head for the handle to steady myself. Her hand held my hip and I let her control everything. She moved me slow, then fast, her fingers furious one minute and plodding the next. Two fingers became three, then four, stretching me open farther than I had been in months. I could hear her moaning into my cunt, the hum of her lips driving me absolutely mad. Her hand left my hip and I watched as she unzipped her uniform and reached into her own panties.

My orgasm was building inside me, but Stella seemed to know that I was close. She backed off, leaving me restless and edgy. Her fingers were out of my body, their absence teasing and tormenting my empty pussy. As suddenly as she was gone, she was back inside me, and I nearly screamed. Her tongue attacked me, rubbing over my clit so fast I could barely keep standing. The heat, the explosion of pleasure crashed over me so quickly, I wasn’t ready for it. Stella was relentless, keeping me coming longer than I ever had before. I didn’t think it was ever going to stop, and I didn’t want it to. As far as I was concerned, Stella could keep me like this all night.

Car lights streamed over me and brought me back to reality. The spell was momentarily broken, and I collapsed onto the seat closest to me, unable to stand for another second.

Stella sat on the floor, staring at my still twitching body. I felt her hand sweep over my sweaty thigh, sending an aftershock up my spine. Finally, I composed myself and sat up, staring at Stella. She stood right in front of me, removing her uniform completely. Her silk panties were visibly wet, as she moved her pussy closer to my face. I reached out to touch her soft, tender thigh, the heat of her skin overwhelming me. I looked up at her face and saw her blue eyes burning into me.

“You still need to pay for your trip.”

She smiled, her too-perfect teeth still shining in the dark. I slipped my fingers into the waistband of her thong and slid it down to her ankles. The dark tangle of hair that covered her pussy was matted and wet. I looked up at her blue eyes and smiled. She pulled my mouth close to her pussy, and I could smell her sex, raw and pungent. I heard her voice one last time before I began licking her hot pussy.

“There are no free rides, you know.”