Best Lesbian Erotica 2014

REUNION AT ST. MARY’S Catherine Lundoff

Bridget Marie Riordan O’Halloran was depressed. It wasn’t so much that work was insanely stressful, though that was part of it. Or that Vic and all her friends seemed to have forgotten her birthday, though that didn’t help. It was the clipping from the parish newspaper, sent by her mother, that put her over the edge. Sister Agnes Mercy Byrnes had been taken up to Heaven, or so it said. But from what Bridget remembered of her, she was more likely to be torturing the Devil below than hovering on a cloud above.

Where Sister Agnes was didn’t matter as much as the fact that she was gone. It was the passing of an era. Agnes had been the terror, among other things, of Bridget’s high school years. It was hard to forget the hours she had spent over the years masturbating over memories of the spanking the nun had once given her in the principal’s office. Imagining those firm hands on her young flesh gave her a thrill even now. She pictured Sister Agnes pulling down her white virginal panties and… Vic walked in a moment later to find her with her hand between her legs.

“Hi sweetie. Ooh, that looks like fun. What triggered this?” Vic grabbed the little clipping as Bridget jerked her hand out of her pants. Vic gave her a look of pure disbelief. “You’re jilling off to Sister Agnes’s obituary?”

Bridget turned red and tried to come up with a good explanation. Then she gave up and went on the attack instead. “You forgot my birthday! Some girlfriend you are.” She crossed her arms to hide the nipples showing through her shirt. Sister Agnes’s hands had been pretty amazing in that last fantasy.

“I knew you were going to say that,” Vic said with a triumphant grin as she dropped onto the couch. She ran one hand down Bridget’s thigh with a possessive pressure that never failed to make her pay attention. “I’ve got a little surprise for you, babe. Kind of appropriate too, given your new ghoulish hobby. We’re going to your tenth high school reunion. My treat.”

Bridget’s jaw dropped. No way! Sister Julia and Father Williams would run them out of Sacred Heart Parish at the head of a torch-wielding mob. Vic didn’t understand how things worked at a parochial school. But before Bridget could say a word, Vic had her in a lip-lock that soon turned to other things. Once Vic was holding Bridget down and pounding a fist into Bridget’s wet, desperate pussy, going home for the reunion sounded just fine. Besides, it was two months away; she had plenty of time to change Vic’s mind.

But somehow, they never got around to talking about it. Every time she tried, Vic was too busy or was all over her, so she gave up, resigning herself to the trip from hell. It would be worse if they ended up staying with her parents. She hoped her mother wouldn’t say the rosary over them when she thought they were sleeping (again).

Despite her worries, she began to wonder if some of her old friends would be there. Monica had come out after graduation. That was inevitable. If James Dean had ever been reincarnated as a Catholic high school girl, Monica was it. Then there was Mary Eileen. Bridget had never forgotten that sleepover where they all decided to practice kissing. From what she could remember, Mary Eileen wanted to practice a few other things too, but they’d been too scared. As for the rest of the girls who ran around with them, well, if Bridget knew her budding Dykes on Bikes, they were the local chapter by now.

By the time they got ready to leave, Bridget was resigned to the trip. It made things easier that Vic was so obviously up to something. Bridget even resisted taking a peek in the toy bag when they loaded it in the car. No point in spoiling the surprise. At least they were staying at a hotel.

Vic wasn’t letting anything slip. She was too tired for sex that night, which was weird. She didn’t talk much during the drive the next day, which was weirder.

Bridget was getting antsy and it brought out the pushy bottom in her. She wheedled, she whined, she sulked; anything to get Vic to do something with or to her. Anything at all. She squirmed against the fabric of the car seat imagining a few of those things. But for the first time in years, Vic wasn’t going for it. She smiled when Bridget pouted, and stonewalled when she whined, until Bridget thought she’d go nuts before they got there.

Finally, they pulled into the hotel parking lot a few blocks from St. Mary’s. Vic slammed her door and headed over to check them in without a backward glance.

Bridget took this as a good sign. It meant she was well and truly annoyed and in full top mode. Maybe Vic would spank her. She loved that, especially if she had to confess her sins beforehand. Good Catholic girls never forget their early training, as Sister Agnes used to say.

Bridget grinned, her spirits lifting as she unpacked the car.

She hauled the bags into the lobby in time for Vic to get the key, then trailed after her up the stairs to the third floor. Evidently she hadn’t earned the right to use the elevator. She grinned as she gasped for breath. This would be good.

But when they got upstairs and she got the bags lined up the way Vic liked them, her girlfriend disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower, leaving her to squirm on the bed. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she got up and checked the bathroom door. Vic had locked it. Bridget stared at it in disbelief and tried to think of what she’d done that was so awful.

By the time Vic came out, Bridget was feeling well and truly contrite and aching to atone for her sins. Especially since Vic was wearing her favorite suit, the black one that made her look hotter than… well, any other butch Bridget could think of. Vic grinned at her and grabbed one of the bags. Then she gestured at the bathroom, “Go hop in the shower, then put these on when you get out. Don’t put on anything else. The dance is tonight and I’ve got a surprise or two for you.”

Bridget took the bag, wondering if things would be better if she groveled. But Vic didn’t seem interested, so she gave up and sulked her way into the bathroom. Even a halfhearted attempt at masturbating didn’t help. Finally, she gave up and decided that she’d get seriously dolled up for the dance. Then maybe Vic would forgive her.

She was a little more optimistic when she stepped out of the shower. A few moments’ work with a hair dryer, and she was feeling even better. That was when she opened the bag Vic had given her. A puddle of plaid in green and black stared back at her, and she almost shut the bag. No way. She reached into the bag and pulled out a Catholic school uniform. An old St. Mary’s uniform, to be exact.

Under the jumper and white blouse that looked way too small, she found a bra with lace cups and a thong. And a pair of saddle shoes. These made her giggle. This was going to be some surprise after all. She pulled on the underwear, then the blouse. It barely buttoned across her breasts and the cloth gaped every time she took a deep breath, exposing the white lace bra. She pulled on the skirt and realized that it would just about cover her ass. Bridget grinned at her reflection in the mirror and grabbed her makeup.

A few moments later, a vision that would have made Sister Agnes turn over in her grave sauntered out of the bathroom to Vic’s appreciative whistle. Bridget had made up her lips in a crimson that clashed violently with her red hair, then applied glowing blue eyeshadow from her lashes to her eyebrows. Her hair was done up in multiple little ponytails, just the sort of thing she might have tried in high school if she’d had the nerve.

Vic came over for an appreciative, giggly kiss. She ran one hand under the skirt and groped Bridget’s ass in the thong just enough to get her attention before she pulled away. Then she grabbed a small bag from the bed. “C’mon let’s go. Some folks are waiting for us. Oh wait, wear this.” She handed Bridget a St. Mary’s blazer.

Bridget gaped at it. “Where did you find all this stuff? Some kind of Sacred Heart garage sale or something?”

“I had help. Now, c’mon babe. We want to get there early. I hear they’re doing dinner first.”

“Oh yum, church suppers. I can’t wait.” Bridget rolled her eyes and tugged on the blazer. Vic was already holding the door open and ushering her out. Well, maybe the surprise would come afterward. Bridget got just a bit wetter thinking about all the possibilities.

By the time they pulled up in front of St. Mary’s, the car seat was getting damp under her. Not that Vic seemed to notice. She just looked as cool as could be as she pulled into the lot and came around to open Bridget’s door. Bridget got out carefully, trying to hold the minuscule plaid skirt down so it sort of covered her butt. Vic watched her with a dangerous smile and leaned in close to whisper, “I’m planning on seeing a lot more of your ass and pussy tonight than that. But it’s a start.”

Bridget met her eyes and shivered. She’d been aching to be touched ever since her shower and that only made it worse. She wondered what it would take to get Vic to take her in the bathroom or maybe the girls’ locker room. She’d always had a fantasy about that, one that involved the entire girls’ field hockey team.

They passed under a big banner and some streamers welcoming them to the reunion. Bridget forced herself not to groan. Crepe paper. Did it get any cheesier than that? There was Betty Crane, waving at her from a registration table crowded with name tags. Bridget didn’t recognize the woman next to her, or the guy hovering nearby, but she suspected she’d hear all about it when they got a bit closer. And she was willing to bet that no one would ask a thing about Vic.

Sure enough, Father William and Sister Julia were fussing with more crepe paper and balloons behind the table and carefully ignoring them. Bridget tugged the jacket closed over her gaping white blouse and grabbed Vic’s hand. Time to get the evening’s ostracism underway. “Hi Betty!” she chirped when they stopped in front of the table. “You look great.” She grinned down at her least favorite former classmate and nearly collapsed laughing when she saw the look on her face.

“Hi Bridget. You look… umm… healthy. Let me introduce you to my husband.” Betty grabbed for the bored-looking man lurking by the bulletin boards. He looked Bridget over and leered, but only a little, which was better than she expected of any guy who’d marry Betty.

Vic stepped between the two of them, making it clear that she wasn’t going to put up with much crap. Bridget watched Betty’s uptight mouth tense as Vic reached out to shake her hand. She wondered if the reunion chair was wiping her hand off on her skirt under the table. At least the husband was polite about it.

A few other classmates came up behind them, and they were able to move on before Bridget gave Betty a piece of her mind. Maybe, she thought, as Vic towed her away, tonight would be a good night to tell Father William who had tried to out a third of the class with anonymous notes their senior year. She’d always suspected it was Betty, partially because a lot of the accusations had been wrong.

But once they walked inside, she forgot about her former foe. There was Monica waving at them from a side table, black hair cut short and spiky, black leather jacket draped on the back of her chair. There was another woman with her who looked familiar too. It took Bridget a full minute to recognize Mary Eileen. Who else would wear an outfit that looked suspiciously like an updated version of a field hockey uniform? Bridget was giggling when they sat down next to them. A few more friends from the old days and their girlfriends straggled in after that so it made for a full table.

In the end, there were eight of them, including almost every girl that Bridget ever wondered about when they were in school: Monica, Mary Eileen, Sharon, Elena, Kate, plus Vic and Kate’s girlfriend Pam. She wondered what Sister Agnes would make of them now, but she thought she knew the answer to that one. Dinner was better than she expected, and everyone at the table was being nice to Vic. Especially since it turned out that Vic seemed to know Monica and Elena from some email list, which was news to Bridget.

But apart from that, Bridget was still waiting to be surprised. Sure, Vic’s hand was resting on her thigh under the table, but it wasn’t working its way up like she expected. She wondered if anyone would notice if she ducked under the table and went down on her girlfriend. She wriggled impatiently.

Vic leaned over to whisper, “Meet me in the girl’s locker room in ten minutes.” Then she took off with Monica.

Bridget watched them walk away like a lost puppy. A wet, empty puppy whose thong was working its way up into places that wanted to be full of other things. Ten minutes had never taken so long, but she wanted to stay on Vic’s good side so she didn’t get up until nine and one half minutes after Vic and Monica left.

She caught Mary Eileen’s knowing smile from the corner of her eye and pulled her friend’s hair lightly as she walked past, for old times’ sake. Then she made herself walk across the gym at a slow, ladylike pace toward the locker rooms, occasionally waving to an old schoolmate who wasn’t too appalled to acknowledge her.

Eventually, she made it to the locker room door. She stopped in front of it, letting her fantasies run wild. She slipped the blazer off her shoulders and unbuttoned her blouse an extra button. Then she walked in, pussy muscles clenched with anticipation.

The second she walked in, someone dropped a bag over her head. Her arms were held behind her back, and she was marched over to what felt like a post. She could feel her hands being securely fastened behind her around the post while someone gave her nipple a wicked pinch.

Bridget whimpered happily and spread her legs, the cheerful grin on her face hidden by the black bag. A sharp slap with something—a ruler?—on her bare thigh made the grin go away. Rough hands tugged off the bag leaving her face-to-face with Monica. Who kissed her, hard.

Uh-oh. Hope Vic doesn’t see this. Monica’s hand was squeezing her tit now too, with enough pressure to make her yelp around Monica’s tongue in her mouth. Then Monica let go of her boob and stuck her hand between Bridget’s legs, driving her fingers up around the thong until Bridget was gasping for air. “You were always such a little slut, Bridge. Now lick my fingers off.” Monica added that last command right after she pulled her fingers out of Bridget’s soaking pussy.

“I remember,” Monica purred as she watched Bridget carefully suck off each finger on her right hand, “how you were always hanging out here after field hockey practice. What were you hoping for back then, Bridge?”

Bridget responded with an incoherent gurgle. How had Monica known? Monica wasn’t telling, but she was pulling a largish knife out of her back pocket. She ran the blade down Bridget’s ample cleavage and smiled as she squirmed. Bridget was wild eyed; where was Vic? Surely she hadn’t left her alone with this crazy woman?

“Well, don’t carve her up before I’ve had any,” Mary Eileen said as she swept into the locker room, giving Bridget an evil grin. She leaned over and bit Bridget’s nipple through the lace of her bra. Bridget yelped. Mary Eileen glanced at Monica. “You bring the ruler? Excellent. I’ve got my old field hockey stick too.”

Bridget’s eyes bulged. There was no way that Mary Eileen was going to follow through on that unspoken threat. Mary Eileen pulled a condom out of a bag and opened the package. Then she stretched it over the handle of the stick. She looked up and met Bridget’s wide-eyed stare. “Oh, don’t tell us you didn’t dream about this back in the day, sweetie. I remember you practically humping Monica in her uniform when you had a few beers.”

So could Bridget. Who could help it? Monica had been so hot. Come to think of it, so had Mary Eileen. And now she was going to get some of her favorite fantasies fulfilled. At least she hoped they were still favorites. She hadn’t thought about the field hockey team in quite a few years, not since Vic came along. She closed her eyes and pictured Vic as the team goalie and a thin line of wetness ran down her thigh.

“I’d put that on her now,” Mary Eileen murmured to Monica as she ran a hand up Bridget’s thigh and stuck two of her fingers inside her, then pulled them out. “I’m guessing our little Bridget’s a shrieker, aren’t you, sweetie?”

Bridget nodded like her head was on strings. Monica reached into a bag and came back with a thick, silky scarf in her hands. She covered Bridget’s mouth and tied the scarf behind her head with deft precision. Then she pulled up Bridget’s skirt and cut the thong off her. Bridget moaned, hoping that might be enough to get one of them to take her. She had never felt so empty.

Instead, Monica chuckled in Bridget’s ear before running her tongue all the way down to her cleavage. She unfastened the bra and pulled it down so Bridget’s breasts were exposed. Bridget started breathing faster. This was just like her field hockey fantasy. Vic had to be somewhere nearby, planning this whole thing. She was the only one Bridget had ever told about this. She squirmed happily. This was going to be the best belated birthday ever.

The door swung open as Mary Eileen braced the hockey stick on the floor and started working the edge of the handle up into Bridget’s pussy. The smooth hardness of it stretched her out enough that she was making a whole series of protesting noises as the rest of their friends walked in. Elena gave Bridget a nasty grin as she sauntered up. “Our little hockey slut is finally getting her wish, huh?” She reached around Bridget and slipped a finger up Bridget’s ass just as Mary Eileen finally got the stick at a good angle. Elena leaned in and bit down on the tender skin over Bridget’s collarbone.

Bridget writhed, every motion driving the stick a little farther inside her. Elena was giving her one hell of a hickey from the feel of things. She had also dropped her free hand to Bridget’s clit. The others were either watching or starting to entertain themselves; Kate’s girlfriend already had her shirt off and Kate stretched out on one of the locker room benches. Bridget found herself imagining Sister Agnes watching and surprised herself by coming with a muffled yell.

Elena grinned and pushed her legs a little farther apart. Then she twisted the hockey stick a little into her. It was too big to fit much more than the end, but that wasn’t stopping her from trying. Bridget opened her eyes at the sound of a camera click. Monica was taking pictures of them. Elena leaned in close to Bridget’s face and grinned at the camera while she pinched Bridget’s nipples completely erect. Monica zoomed in on a close-up of the stick as Bridget wailed through the gag.

The door swung open behind Monica and Bridget gasped as a nun entered. Elena stepped away, an evil grin on her face. Bridget braced herself for outraged cries and threats to call the police. Instead the nun looked her straight in the eye and walked over, pulling a ruler out of her sleeve as she approached. Bridget gurgled behind the gag, gasping in shock at the sight of Vic in full Catholic drag, rosary and all.

She was in full character too. She looked at Bridget sternly and asked in a voice slightly deeper than her normal one, “Have you been tempting these innocents into sin? Have you? Have you exposed yourself in order to make your schoolmates think lustful thoughts?” Vic frowned fiercely as Bridget tried to look innocent.

Whack! The ruler landed on her bare thigh. Bridget yelled through the gag. Vic pulled the hockey stick away from her pussy. “I still can’t hear you, Miss O’Halloran. Perhaps this will help loosen your tongue.” Vic yanked off her rosary and began stuffing it up into Bridget’s soaking wet slit. When she had gotten as many beads inside her as she could fit, Vic found a stray length to stuff up her ass. Bridget could feel the crucifix dangling between her thighs, and it made her feel incredibly sacrilegious.

It also made her come again, so hard she would have dropped to the floor if her bound hands weren’t holding her up. “Did I give you permission to indulge in that disgusting behavior?” Vic hissed as the ruler met the exposed flesh of Bridget’s ass. Her eyelids flew open in time to see Sharon go down on Mary Eileen while Monica slid a dildo into a harness. Vic twisted the rosary inside her and rubbed one of the dangling beads against her clit while she watched them. Whenever she felt Bridget wasn’t paying enough attention, she brought the ruler down on her ass or thighs.

Bridget gulped the air like it was water, her knees trembling. The pressure on her clit was unrelenting as she watched Sharon come, face still pressed into Mary Eileen’s pussy. Bridget joined her a second later, shaking so hard that Vic had to catch her. Vic untied her then and pulled the gag off. Then she yanked the rosary out. “I believe that you need to do some penance, young lady.” She pressed down on Bridget’s shoulders and Bridget dropped to her knees on the locker room floor.

For a minute, she pretended she was going down on Sister Agnes. She closed her eyes, imagining the spanking she’d have gotten. A sharp slap like the one she’d been thinking about cracked across her ass. She tried to glance around to see whom the hand belonged to, only to have Vic hold her head in place and order her to lick harder.

Whoever it was that was spanking her was a pro. A firm hand came down over and over until Bridget’s was hot and her thighs were soaked. Then Bridget felt the pressure of a dildo against her asshole. Monica. It had to be Monica. She was going to get Vic and Monica at the same time? This was the best birthday ever.

She licked Vic as Monica stretched her out and shoved her way inside. Vic came then, hands buried in Bridget’s hair, legs shaking around her ears. Monica worked the dildo all the way inside her and began riding her, driving her face into Vic with each thrust. Bridget tried to make her tongue rigid, using it to fuck Vic until Vic came again.

Monica was groaning now and Bridget could feel her playing with herself. Monica came before she did, collapsing on Bridget’s back with a shuddering yell as Bridget’s legs trembled from her own orgasm. She shook under Monica’s body for another minute or two, then started laughing. She grinned up at Vic from the floor and said, “Should I say ten Hail Marys as penance, Sister?”

Vic gave her a stern frown. “Make it twenty and I want to hear every one of them, young lady.” Bridget dropped back onto her knees and clasped her hands, beginning the litany and being sure to work in a new section thanking the Virgin for the field hockey team.