Best Lesbian Erotica of the Year Volume 2 Read online

  Copyright © 2017 by Sacchi Green.

  All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, television or online reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.

  Published in the United States by Cleis Press, an imprint of Start Midnight, LLC, 101 Hudson Street, Thirty-Seventh Floor, Suite 3705, Jersey City, NJ 07302.

  Printed in the United States.

  Cover design: Scott Idleman/Blink

  Cover photograph: iStock

  Text design: Frank Wiedemann

  First Edition.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Trade paper ISBN: 978-1-62778-254-8

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62778-255-5

  “Shaved,” by Pascal Scott, is an excerpt from Hard Limits by Pascal Scott (Blackout Books, 2017).

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Six Dates • A. D. SONG

  Arm’s Length • THEDA HUDSON

  Mojave • DENA HANKINS

  Super • HEATHER DAY

  Silent Passion • ROSE DE FER

  Bicycling Puts the Fun Between Your Legs • JANELLE RESTON

  The Diary • EMILY L. BYRNE

  Relics • SARAH FONSECA

  Fine Lines • M. BIRDS

  The Sale of Two Titties • NANISI BARRETT D’ARNUK

  Shaved • PASCAL SCOTT

  Strawberry Surprise • ANNA WATSON

  Cinema Fantastique • VICTORIA JANSSEN

  Origins • AMANDA RODRIGUEZ

  The Lady Inventors’ Club of Kink • ANDREA DALE

  Prove It on Me • CARA PATTERSON

  Eat at Home • LOUISE BLAYDON

  The Truth about Tara • ANNABETH LEONG

  About the Authors

  About the Editor

  INTRODUCTION

  The Best Lesbian Erotica series has been making our pulses pound now for twenty-two years. Some girls who weren’t even born back then are old enough now to read erotica—and to write it. The title has changed, beginning with the 20th Anniversary Edition—this year’s is The Best Lesbian Erotica of the Year Volume 2—but the aim is the same: to present the best lesbian erotic short stories of recent years. “Best,” that is, in the eye (and imagination, and sensual responses) of the beholder. For an anthology it also means not only the best-written work, but the most varied, intriguing, downright hot stories that can be fit together in one balanced, absorbing book.

  The choices are, of course, entirely subjective on the part of the editor, so here are just a few hints as to what pushed my buttons this year. The settings range from a Korean restaurant to the Mojave Desert to a comic book store to a silent-movie theater. The protagonists are all ages, from young students to seasoned self-identified dykes to elders whose fires still burn fiercely. You can find love and romance, power exchange, over-the-top sex toys, a superheroine, a Prohibition-era detective, and much more. And, of course, there is sex as varied and vivid as the settings and characters: explicit, often inventive, sometimes transformative, always steamy. Each story is distinctive in its way. Don’t try to swallow too many all at once; take time to savor your favorites. Getting there is half the fun.

  So what pushes your buttons? I hope you’ll find it here, and even discover buttons you didn’t know you had. Or zippers. Zippers are hot, too. Variety can be the spice of lust.

  Sacchi Green

  Amherst, MA

  SIX DATES

  A. D. Song

  On their fifth date, Jesse took Nina to a tiny Korean restaurant tucked between a hair salon and a drug store. Smoky scents of meat and ban chan—side dishes—rose hot and heavy in the air. If Jesse closed her eyes and inhaled the fumes, she could imagine her parents’ restaurant in the Koreatown back in Midtown Manhattan. Her mother would be manning the kitchen ferociously, punctuating each barked statement with a crack of her ladle. Her soft and steady father, eyes creased in quiet good humor, would be nudging Jesse, who waitressed more often than not, toward the customers spilling through the door, hungry for bowls of searing, spicy kimchi jiggae despite the summer heat. Koreans believed hot soups were perfect for hot nights, something Jesse carried with her despite moving across the country to her new job in Los Angeles.

  They sat at a corner table, as Jesse always preferred when she was making her moves. And she would have to use every single one of them on Nina.

  Nina kept Jesse on her toes, and had done so since they met along the aisle of colorful, multi-shaped dildos at the queer sex store where Nina worked. The first glance Jesse gave Nina was because, like Jesse, Nina was Korean; the second was because of Nina’s fluid but fierce femininity.

  With a pierced brow and limbs covered with an array of fine-lined, black-and-gray tattoos, Nina was tiny and graceful, even in her ridiculous, fat-heeled platform boots. She was as delicate as a music-box ballerina, complete with long black hair ribboning down her back in loose curls.

  When Jesse found her stocking the bunny vibrators, Nina pretended not to notice her.

  “Come here often?” Jesse asked.

  Nina looked down at her name tag and looked back up, cocking her head ironically.

  “Only on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

  “Great.” Jesse smiled, leaning against the boxes of Vibratex Pearl Thunders. She knocked the turquoise one over. “Now I know where to find you.”

  Nina laughed and when Jesse asked her out, Nina swept her heavy, hooded eyes over this new specimen— from Jesse’s short, sharp pompadour to the tips of her combat boots. Nina said, playfully, lightly, “We’ll see,” and gave a twinkling little smile full of promise and sin. And with that, Jesse was smitten.

  Jesse did take her out, to an old movie theater, a record store, and a punk show. Despite—or because of—her job at the sex store, Nina claimed she was a traditional girl and refused to even kiss Jesse until they’d had six dates.

  “Why six?” Jesse asked.

  “It’s a proper number.”

  “Oh, come on,” Jesse protested. “Come on, you’re really telling me I can’t even give you a tiny”—she backed Nina slowly against a wall—“little”—she lowered her head until her mouth skimmed a breath above hers— “kiss?”

  Nina knocked Jesse a full step back, with both her hands and the power of those dark eyes.

  “No!” she snapped. She was smiling a little but still held firm. “Six dates.”

  Jesse had tried. But even when she made her moves on her against walls and into dark corners—and once on Jesse’s bed, using her four-inch height advantage—Nina refused to be seduced. Even when Jesse kissed along the curve of her plant-stem-slender neck, making Nina shiver; even when Jesse smoothed her hands alongside Nina’s sides and cupped her small breasts; even when Nina let Jesse stroke her outside her pants until their bodies were damp and trembling with desire, Nina would nudge her back and whisper, “Six dates.”

  And she would glide away—or roll away—with that unperturbed grace, trailing clouds of jasmine perfume and leaving Jesse very, very frustrated. And excited.

  It was only their fifth date, but sitting at the corner table in this little Korean restaurant, Jesse sensed something was going to happen.

  Nina wore red, a dark crimson the color of ripened plums. Her lips were painted the same color and they curved up now, teasingly, at Jesse. Nina had done something magical and feminine so that her eyes were smoky and her eyelashes long and black. There was a teasing female awareness in them, almost smug and entirely too aware of the havoc she was currently causin
g in Jesse’s boxers. Something about that knowing femininity always fascinated and intrigued Jesse—even though, or maybe because, she wasn’t born with it herself.

  Nina leaned forward frequently so Jesse got a good eyeful of what she wore under her shirt—it was as red as her lips. Nina glanced at Jesse now and then, eyes bright, a small cat-smile curling her lips. She seemed excited, expectant, waiting for something. Entranced as Jesse was, she knew Nina would get whatever she wanted; Jesse’s only power was how Nina would get it. Call it butches’ intuition: Jesse was going to have her tonight.

  She looked at Nina now, who sipped her barley tea.

  “I’m surprised at you,” Nina commented. “I didn’t think we would come here.”

  “Would you have preferred a fancy French restaurant?”

  “No, this is perfect. It’s . . . us.”

  “Not quite.” Jesse took Nina’s hand, entangled their fingers. “Now it is.”

  The dark, rich raspiness of Nina’s laugh tingled Jesse’s skin.

  They ate rice with platters of smoked meat, bowls of steaming soup, and small ceramic stone pots of steamed egg, all the while picking through side dishes of kimchi, seasoned spinach, boiled eggplant, and chunks of julienned white radish. They spoke of their families, Nina’s part-time job at the sex store, and Jesse’s time at the Culinary Institute.

  And when Jesse mentioned the dessert she had made back at her apartment, Nina only said, “Why don’t we do just that?” with a little smile.

  After making their way to Jesse’s apartment, Nina clapped as Jesse brought out the dessert.

  “You made this?”

  “I didn’t just wait tables back in New York. I had to do something to graduate from the Culinary Institute.”

  It was a towering confection with mounds of cream, dotted with berries and shards of chocolate, dusted lightly with powdered sugar.

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  When Jesse offered a tiny, long-handled spoon, Nina merely said, “Feed me,” and opened her mouth.

  Willing to play along, Jesse fed Nina berries with cream, letting her slowly suck the cream off the spoon, watching her eyes close in pleasure as she savored each bite.

  And when she leaned toward Jesse, offering her parted lips, still sticky with cream, Jesse only skimmed a berry along her lips and popped it into her mouth. Nina opened her eyes in surprise but Jesse merely said, “Let’s take this to my room.” Satisfied, Nina smiled and let Jesse sweep her into the bedroom.

  Jesse cocked an eyebrow, unsurprised, when Nina took bondage cuffs out of her purse.

  “My safeword is ‘dessert,’” Nina told Jesse, her eyes gleaming in the settling darkness. With the shadows crisscrossing against her skin, she looked predatory and silkily beautiful, like some otherworldly creature, a feral hunt-ress, all sharp teeth and impossibly smooth skin.

  Jesse grinned in response and took her time undressing Nina, letting the clothes fall off in achingly slow motion, and tying her up, cuffing her hands together.

  As she finished, Jesse was awed by her date’s beauty. Nina was proudly, defiantly naked—save for her panties— her ochre skin glowing in the slivers of silvery moonlight, all five feet of her stretched out on Jesse’s black sheets. Her hands were cuffed together, bound by black leather and silver chains, nestled into the sheets above her head. Her ankles were bound, knees pressed together and bent to one side, a teasing recourse to withhold her pussy from Jesse just a little bit longer. Jesse hovered inches above her body, relishing every spot their heated skin met in a light, magnetic touch.

  “Kiss me,” Nina breathed. Her lips were parted, ready. A lovely pink flushed her cheeks.

  Jesse inhaled the musky scent of Nina’s sweet pussy, her arousal already permeating the air. She was so incredibly wet, soaking through the thin, silky fabric of her red lace panties. Jesse looked at Nina, their eyes meeting hungrily in the dark. Nina, eager and impatient now that she’d started the game. Jesse, calm and still, her mind swiftly sliding into that dominant role, anticipating Nina’s needs, her limits, and relishing, savoring the power.

  “No.”

  Nina looked startled.

  “It hasn’t been six dates yet,” Jesse pointed out.

  At that, Nina cursed out loud, a string of invectives that could blister paint from the walls.

  Jesse only narrowed her eyes, smiling a little. Bratty little girl, so used to guiding tops from the bottom, so accustomed to easily getting what she wanted. Well, she wasn’t going to get that from Jesse. Instinctively, Jesse slid one hand under Nina’s hip, the other hand grasping Nina’s opposite shoulder. With a deft quickness and ease that caught Nina off guard, Jesse flipped Nina onto her stomach, pulling her up by her hips in one smooth, fluid motion so that she rested on her elbows and knees, ass thrust up in the cool night air.

  Smack!

  She spanked Nina across her small, round ass.

  Nina half yelped, half moaned in response. Then, with a huff of outrage, she tried to twist around, trying to find purchase on the smooth sheets despite her bondage, wiggling deliciously in the process.

  Smack!

  Jesse smacked her across her ass again, just a touch harder than the first time.

  “The first was for using bad language. This one is for questioning Daddy,” Jesse said coolly.

  Nina stilled, then turned her head and strained to look up at Jesse from her facedown position. Long strands of hair fell messily onto her face and pooled on the bed, as glossy black as raven feathers. Her pupils were dilated, her irises swallowed up by black. A hint of a smirk still lingered on her lips. She opened her mouth.

  “Fuck you,” she said.

  With that, Jesse unlooped the belt from her jeans. Metal clinked against metal as she drew the leather out. Nina stilled when Jesse laid the belt firmly across her ass. Jesse could hear her breathing, soft catchy gasps of anticipation.

  “Is that any way to talk to Daddy?” Jesse crooned.

  Jesse pulled Nina’s panties down roughly over her thighs, stopping to finger the sodden material. She wound the buckled end of the belt twice around her grip, and started out slow and steady, soft little love-taps against Nina’s cheeks, pausing now and then to draw out the anticipation, the fear.

  “Is that any way to talk to Daddy? Hmm?” Jesse repeated, swatting Nina’s ass with one hand. She watched her asscheeks jiggle and sway in response. “Answer me.”

  When Nina gave no response, Jesse increased the force of her whipping, bringing the belt down and across Nina’s ass faster and harder.

  “Are you going to answer me, brat?”

  Nina only grunted in response, her ass twitching, but otherwise staying resolutely silent and still. She was a proud little thing, the most dedicatedly stubborn brat. Considering her brassy fierceness, what else could she be? Nina’s cheeks were tinged pink with embarrassment and arousal in equal parts, her wet panties still bunched at the crook of her knees. Jesse almost laughed out loud but kept a stern expression on her face.

  Jesse began to smack her in earnest, drawing her arm back and putting her substantial strength into it. The belt whistled through the air and whipped Nina’s ass in cracking snaps that echoed through the room. Nina started to make high-pitched little noises, breathy gasps melting into moans. Her ass started to glow, bright red welts rising against her skin. Jesse could see it flush even in the darkness.

  Nina pressed her face down as the belt came down again, her cries muffled by the mattress. Her body started to jerk, no longer able to keep still.

  “Stubborn brats are bad girls,” Jesse hissed. “Daddy gets to do whatever he wants with a bad girl.”

  Jesse leaned over Nina’s body, pressing down with enough force so Nina could feel her weight. She jerked Nina up a little and dipped a finger between her legs. Her pussy was so swollen and slick and wet, Jesse had to bite off a groan, clenching her teeth. Nina bucked her hips and tried to back onto Jesse’s fingers, searching for friction.

 
“Oh no you don’t.” Jesse turned her head and bit Nina’s ear roughly, tonguing it a little. Nina cried out in response.

  Jesse got up, drew her arm back, and whipped Nina one last time with every ounce of strength she had. With that, Nina gave a deep shudder, her whole body collapsing onto the bed. She started to writhe, trying to relieve the burn that was surely spreading over her ass. She cried out, “No, Daddy. Daddy, please. Daddy . . . ”

  Jesse dropped the belt and rolled Nina gently back onto her back. She was no longer smirking; instead, tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, her lips puckered in a pout—the picture of a repentant little girl. A flood of tenderness and pride filled Jesse.

  “What do we say to Daddy?” Jesse asked, softly, smoothing back Nina’s rumpled hair.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry,” she sniffled.

  Jesse got her a glass of water, and let her drink from a straw.

  “There’s my girl,” Jesse murmured. “You okay? You did so well. Good girl.”

  “Yes, Daddy. Daddy, please.” Nina wiggled against her binds.

  Jesse unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off along with her boxers. She pulled on her harness, buckled it in and ran one hand over the length of her cock, but left her T-shirt and binder on. She released Nina from her restraints and let her massage her wrists.

  “Get back on your knees.”

  When Nina got on her hands and knees, Jesse lubed up her cock and positioned it against Nina’s entrance. Her pussy gleamed wetly, bare folds parting as she perked her ass up. Jesse eased slowly inside. Nina moaned deep in her throat as she rocked back, trying to take more of Jesse’s cock.

  Jesse rotated her hips, sliding around experimentally. Nina gasped, arching her back. She found that Nina liked it hard and fast, with short, rough strokes, and gave it as good as she was given, bouncing back on Jesse’s cock wildly.

  “See what you get when you’re a good girl? You get what you want when you’re a good girl.” Jesse pumped harder, her hips slapping against Nina’s ass. Their bodies smacked together.

  “Yes, Daddy. Please, Daddy!” Her small hands clenched and unclenched on the blanket. Nina spread her legs wider and lifted up her ass, rocking back and forth faster and faster.