1. Displacement activity


    Date: 9/16/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: monica3, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    did scream then. I also ran down the stairs and almost tripped over my dress which was lying on them. I staggered into the kitchen and sat in a corner, arms around my knees barely aware of the wet on my cheeks but very aware of the pounding in my chest and ears. A few moments later the capped head poked around the kitchen door and smiled a ghastly, gap-toothed smile. ‘Don’t take it to heart, sweets. Just a little fun with your friend while lovergirl is away. If you don’t like nasty surprises you should stick to your travel plans.’ I threw something, God alone knows what, vaguely in the direction of the sneering bitch who laughed and left. I heard the front door slam behind her. ‘Look, Charlie.’ Fran’s voice was sheepish as she stood in the doorway. I didn’t let her finish whatever she wanted to say. ‘Just go. Go now.’ ‘But…..’ ‘Go.’ This was delivered in a whisper but felt like a scream. She went and a little while later I heard the door close behind her too and I sat on the hard wooden floor and wallowed in my misery. And so it was that six months later I was sitting on the tennis club’s verandah with Eva. Eva is as straight as a roman road. She is tall, Aryan blonde and has the legs of a model and the tits to go with them. She had been, she once told me, a lesbian but it had lasted for no more than two hours and then ‘I straightened myself out. Girls are OK but just not for me.’ This had not been a great disappointment at the time since Fran and I were well in love and ...
    very, very exclusive, except of course and as it turned out, when Fran wasn’t. We watched as two girls played a singles match. They were a lot younger than us, probably in their twenties and had that coltish quality as they ran, clad in their shorts and shirts, around the court. They were good. ‘God, I wish I could play like that.’ Eva smiled. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘all you need to do is practice a lot and lose twenty years.’ ‘Thanks!’ ‘Why don’t you get some lessons, Charlie? You know Helen would be happy to help.’ Helen was another member, a sports teacher at a local and exclusive public school for girls and coached club members for a small fee. Another girl of about our age wandered onto the verandah. Her deep black skin contrasted with the white of her tennis kit. ‘Hi Chuck, Eva.’ Lola is American and built like a Williams sister. Her nipples poked bravely through her shirt and her shorts were drawn to a very revealing camel toe which always had a significant effect on the male members’ members and both were a deliberate ploy she used to win mixed doubles games. She called it her biological tactical set. They also served to advertise her prolific libido which meant she was never short of men. She called me ‘Chuck’ because, apparently, that is a common name used for men called Charles in her home country. I sort of liked it. ‘Hi Lola. You playing or pulling?’ ‘Both, darling,’ she drawled in her southern American accent and sat beside me. ‘Harry and I’ve been drawn against that ...
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