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Blurb
Three lesbian erotic short stories from
popular writer Lucy Felthouse.
Girls Rule, Boys Drool
Boyish dyke Toni is working at the
local golf club, serving champagne to arrogant, privileged folk when
she spots Clarissa. She’s one of the posh people, but she looks
like she’d rather be somewhere else—anywhere else. Toni’s
immediately smitten and wants to put a smile on the older woman’s
beautiful face, so she decides to show Clarissa just why girls rule
and boys drool.
Making An Impression
Joely’s holiday has consisted mainly
of chilling out by the hotel pool, having the occasional swim and
reading lots. That is, until a hot brunette arrives and suddenly,
Joely has trouble concentrating on anything else. Her gaydar
non-existent, Joely decides on an unusual course of action to find
out whether the newcomer bats for the same side as she does.
Fear as an Aphrodisiac
Girlfriends Nikki and Sonya are on
holiday in Edinburgh, Scotland’s capital city. They’re having fun
sightseeing, until a super-scary tourist attraction sends Nikki into
meltdown. Once outside again, Nikki slowly starts to feel better—and,
much to her surprise, horny. Quickly realising that the fear has
acted as a potent aphrodisiac, she decides to take advantage of that
fact, right there in the middle of the city.
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Excerpt:
Finally, Nikki and Sonya found the
turning off Edinburgh’s Royal Mile that they needed. They’d
expected a road, but Mary King’s Close was nothing more than a
narrow passageway that looked like it led to the next street along.
Glancing at one another, it seemed both girls suspected they were in
the wrong place—despite the name of the alleyway—but as they
headed along the close, they came across more signage and discovered
they were wrong. The signs proclaimed that they were indeed at The
Real Mary King’s Close, and this time they exchanged a relieved
look and moved inside the tourist attraction.
After paying their money, they were put
into a group that was already waiting, and after a few minutes was
called to attention by a member of staff. The young man, dressed in
incredibly old-fashioned attire welcomed them to the attraction and
gave some brief information about what they should expect from the
tour, as well as some health and safety spiel.
Then they were ushered deeper into the
building and down some stairs. Another peculiarly-dressed actor met
them and gave his talk. The group soon learned that Mary King’s
Close had been a town of sorts, a collection of streets and houses,
named after the most prominent local—Mary King. It had functioned
well, this part of Edinburgh—in its day. But it had also befallen
hard times and tragedy, including the Black Death.
It was rumoured
that people affected had been bricked into their houses to prevent
the disease spreading further. It had never been confirmed nor
denied, but the very idea sent a shiver down Nikki’s spine.
As they advanced into the underground
town—now covered over by modern Edinburgh—they learned more about
the inhabitants, their lives and, in some cases, their deaths. By the
time they were shown the shrine of a young girl, covered with
offerings both old and new, Nikki was clinging onto Sonya’s arm so
hard that the other girl gave her a nudge.
“Oi, you’re hurting me! What’s
the matter with you?”
“Sorry,” Nikki replied. “I’m
getting a little creeped out, that’s all.”
“A little? The way you’re squeezing
my arm, I’m beginning to think you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
“I said I’m sorry. God. Don’t you
think it’s spooky down here?”
A meaningful glance from the tour guide
shut them up. Nikki dropped her hand to Sonya’s and held it. The
group continued through the subterranean labyrinth, listening to more
tales of the past, the things that had happened within the very place
they stood, over four hundred years ago.
Some periods of total darkness with
recounts of history later, and Nikki was a nervous wreck. She’d
always had an overactive imagination, and although she’d never seen
a ghost—despite Sonya’s words—she believed in them and was
really succumbing to the eeriness of the ancient place. She had
gotten to the stage where she fully expected to see the spectre of
little Annie—having left the site of her shrine—peering around a
corner, beckoning to her. Or the chilly finger of a plague victim
trailing down the back of her neck. She grew so paralyzed with fear
that she fell silent and didn’t take in a word of the rest of the
excursion—simply holding onto Sonya’s hand as they walked through
the rooms and tunnels.
When they eventually emerged into the
outside world once more, Nikki heaved a sigh of relief. “Sonya,
darling, take me for a drink, now. A stiff one. A double vodka and
coke sounds perfect right now. Maybe even a triple.”
“Were you really that scared?” The
other woman looked disbelieving.
“What do you mean, were? I still
bloody am. I’m sure I’d have found it interesting if I wasn’t
so busy being terrified. I’m surprised I didn’t wet myself.”
“Aww, babe.” Sonya pulled the other
girl into her arms. “I didn’t realise you hated it that much. We
could have left if I’d known.”
“No,” Nikki shook her head. “It’s
okay, I didn’t want to ruin it for you. I just got to the stage
where I blocked it all out. But I’d still really like a drink, if
you don’t mind.”
Sonya gently pushed Nikki against the
wall of the alleyway and hugged her once more. “Okay, we’ll go
for a drink soon. Let me hold you for a few minutes, first.”
The other girl said nothing, just
relaxed into her lover’s embrace and slowly, very slowly, felt the
fear ebbing away. With not a small amount of horror, she realised
that she was turned on. Her knickers were damp and sticking to her,
and the heat emanating from between her legs was unmistakable. What
the actual fuck? She kept quiet, instead nuzzling into Sonya’s neck
and pressing a kiss to the delicate skin there.
“Ooh,” Sonya said, shuddering,
“that was lovely. What was that for?”
“For being nice.” Nikki’s voice
was muffled, and she kissed her girlfriend again.
“Hey,” Sonya said, grabbing Nikki’s
hands and squeezing them, “you’d better stop that, otherwise I’m
going to get turned on. And that’s the last thing you want right
now. I’m trying to be understanding here, sweetheart.”
Nikki came to the conclusion that she
didn’t mind if Sonya got turned on, not at all. In fact, some sexy
fun might just take her mind off the creepy underground place they’d
just visited. It was damn weird that being scared had turned her on,
but the more she thought about it, the more she figured it kinda made
sense. Nothing, in her opinion, was scarier than death, and the
French word for orgasm translated to ‘the little death’—so it
was widely accepted that sex and death were connected. Sex was about
life, death was about, well, death. So, in an attempt to stop
thinking about things that confused the hell out of her, she was
going to embrace life, wholeheartedly. And if that meant experiencing
the little death, then so be it.
“I don’t mind,” she whispered
into Sonya’s ear.
“What do you mean, sweetie?” Sonya
replied, grabbing her shoulders and moving her back so she could look
at her face. “You don’t mind what?”
“I don’t mind you getting turned
on.”
About Lucy
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman!
She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and
pairings, and has over eighty publications to her name, with many
more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage
Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014.
Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and
co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small
publishing house. She owns Erotica
For All, and is book editor for Cliterati.
Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk.
Join her on Facebook
and Twitter,
and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
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