1. Every Sign I Read is Wrong, Baby


    Date: 9/17/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: puddleduck, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    glitter - was it perspiration? - your boobs more pronounced. You were radiant, and your body more athletic than I thought. I drank in the sight. You were kneeling between my legs and your thighs weren't thin, but toned. The skin on your flat tummy shone like gold and between your legs your pussy looked dark and soft, like coal dust. I reached out to touch it, and just as I reached it – and it really felt soft – I was woken up. My boyfriend was shaking my shoulder. He was like: “What are you talking about?” And I said “What do you mean?” I was actually angry that he’d ended my dream. He said, “You just said ‘You have such a beautiful cunt’.” And he was looking at me, like all confused. “What’s that about?” I was proud how quickly I thought of my excuse. “Oh,” I said, “Just vanity. I was just talking to myself again.” * I felt weird about that dream and weirder still because I was so ridiculously wet after it, and it started me thinking about you sexually. Pretty much all the time. But the weirdest thing is that some of the things I pictured felt real. I’ll explain. Remember our bike ride on that beautiful autumn day? It was the weekend after the dream and it was what you wore that struck me. You had full-length Lycra leggings that hugged your profile and I saw the same muscle tone I'd seen so clearly in my dream. But above that you wore a cool white hoody – and looked just as I'd dreamt about you in your toga. That day I said I used my fuckability at the bike hire shop to ...
    persuade the owner to give us a free loan. But really it was you I think, standing looking distant at the shop door. We cycled out of the city through little former mining villages that had looked so drab every time I passed them on the train. But in that sharp autumn sunlight with you they looked bright and pretty. We freewheeled down one hill, your legs akimbo, cold air rushing through our hair. You so unreserved for once. So looking like the girl in my dream. When we stopped in the valley we threw our bikes into the trench at the roadside and sat back on the cold, damp grass. You lit a cigarette and puffed it into the air above our heads like a little industrial chimney. And you said, ‘That was better than sex.” And I was thinking: “Maybe you're fucking the wrong person.” * And another time. You know how I go on about Shakespeare and when you came into my room I’d want to share the latest sonnet I’d found with you? Did you know that when I read them to you, I’d lift my eyes from the page and look at you? And I’d get away with it because usually your eyes would be closed, listening to me. I like my voice. So do you; you said. And I’d choose something I’d learned by heart. Like the one about our heads being together on the pillow and your breathing intoxicating me. That time I was in your room and you were getting changed, half-dressed, down to your t-shirt and knickers. You were moving about as I was demanding you listen. Your knickers were sort of ocean blue. The top of your ...
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