Twenty scorching tales about lesbians who lust after each other. From steamy Latin dance lessons to tender female lovers making the most of their last day on Earth, all of our wanton women have one thing in common: they don’t need a man to satisfy them. Whether you like your women to take control, play the submissive or are just keen to read about hot ladies exploring their sexuality to the full, these stories are guaranteed to tease and titillate.
Ludmilla’s eyes smouldered and her carmine lips parted in invitation as she gazed at Sophie’s sex with its brush of thick dark hair so completely opposite in appearance to her own.
She held out her arms and they danced, except this time, Ludmilla’s hands searched between her legs and Sophie, unable to sustain the rhythm of the dance, kept faltering.
Ludmilla gripped her wrist and together they ran, giggling, through the studio and up a staircase and into Ludmilla’s tiny bedroom high up at the top of the apartment where the curtains were drawn and only a tiny slither of light showed.
Ludmilla tumbled onto the bed as, down below, the strains of tango that would provide the perfect accompaniment to their tangoing bodies, echoed throughout the building.
Ludmilla’s strong legs tangled with Sophie’s, pinning her to the bed and then she sat up, smoothing her hands down her fabulous body.
Sophie peered at her legs with the tiny sex nestled at the top. It was an extraordinary sex, she speculated. Boyish, flat and barely there and yet strikingly erotic in its seeping ripeness, and with enough of a hint of the masculine to start a raging fire in Sophie.
Ludmilla held herself very still in a totally self-controlled state of passion. But Sophie could feel the energy thrumming beneath the skin.
‘Tango makes me so passionate.’ Ludmilla sighed, as her finger squeezed Sophie’s sex and slithered up and down the wet slit. ‘The tango opens me up and now it opens you.’ Throwing back her head she laughed. ‘Now, you know why Argentineans are so passionate. It’s because the music of the tango is always flowing through our veins, and it makes us into sex.’
She cupped Sophie’s chin, fondling her mouth with her lips; the tip of her tongue caressing while her hands moved over Sophie’s body, starting small fires here and there.
‘Oh.’ Sophie gasped as Ludmilla seized her clit between her finger and thumb and tugged on it gently.
‘You dance with passion now.’
‘Yes.’ Sophie smiled. ‘But only with you.’
‘Good, good.’ Ludmilla purred as she placed her knees on either side of Sophie’s hips and began lowering herself slowly up and down to the accompaniment of the sultry sounds of the tango. Each time she came down, she ground her boyish, barely-there sex into Sophie’s, and soon Sophie began to rise to meet her and her hands came onto Ludmilla’s hips.
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