Best Lesbian Erotica 2011 by Kathleen Warnock

Author:Kathleen Warnock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2010-12-19T16:00:00+00:00

SIGNS

Theda Hudson

“Do you want to see my tit?” Trish asks, just like she was asking, “Do you want to see my puppy?”

I look at her in the passenger seat of my old Subaru as we head toward the mountains and smile the way I do every time she asks. She knows I do. It’s just an opportunity to show it off and for her to practice being brash.

There’s also a deeper question about trust under it that I’m not sure I’m ready to answer or that I even completely believe she knows she’s asking.

So I answer the easy one. “Yes.”

“Which one?”

I pretend to ponder. It’s really a toss-up but I like to keep her off balance so I say, “The left one.”

She looks disappointed for just a sec and then lays the flat of her right hand in the center of chest. Such a closet hedonist. I know she’s enjoying the smoothness of her skin, teasing herself before she angles her fingertips so her hand dives across the front of her breast.

She loves her tits almost as much as I do. They’re beautifully shaped, round, large but not too large, with big, beautiful, responsive nipples that, surprisingly, she loves to have pinched.

She blushes to be doing this now, which makes me wonder why she does it, but it’s a good sign and I’ll give her a cookie to keep her coming back.

Trish pushes her bra off her tit and cups it in her hand. She pinches the nipple with her thumb and forefinger, but it’s not necessary; she may be embarrassed but it’s eager as all hell and stands up tall for me.

I reach out, taking my eyes off the road, and slide my hand across the tight flesh and let my fingers slip down. She moves her hand down to keep the bra in place while I touch her. I remember how smooth and slick it was last night when I slipped my cock up and down between them.

I smile at her as she watches me touch her. I love the way her boob feels in my hand, the heft of it, the way it’s salty sweet in my mouth, the way she lifts them for me, offering them like a gift. I love the way she squirms and the breath hisses between her teeth when I pinch that peg sharply. She looks at me and we smile at each other like idiots for a moment.

She looks out the windshield abruptly and says, “Take this exit.”

I pull my hand out and she pulls her bra back in place and—poof!—there’s the little English teacher again.

She slips her hand onto my thigh and lets it rest there lightly. Life is pretty good.

“Turn up there,” she says suddenly. Everything is “now” for her; there’s no segue or easy on. It drives me crazy, but I get that’s how she is, so I can go with it. That’s an interesting sign.

We’re driving right at the foothills now. They don’t really have any trees, just a covering of golden grass.

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