Absolute Lesbian Sex - Volume 2 Read online

  Title Page

  ABSOLUTE LESBIAN SEX

  Volume 2

  A HOUSE OF EROTICA COLLECTION

  Publisher Information

  Absolute Lesbian Sex - Volume 2

  published in 2015 by House of Erotica

  an imprint of Andrews UK Limited

  www.houseoferoticabooks.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © House of Erotica 2015

  The rights of the authors have been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Lipsmacker

  Ashley Hind

  “This is the ballad of Fanny Spänkka, who fell in love with the beautiful drummer and then had her heart broken by Yours Truly. It’s not actually a ballad, obviously. It’s more of a swift tale, but I use the term for the musical connotations, since dearest Fanny does so love to boast to all her girly conquests that she is the lead singer of a rock band. She doesn’t mention that it’s a crap rock band. This isn’t even much of a tale, if I’m honest - more a cautionary note not to get ideas above your station where I am concerned. Because if you get me uncharacteristically drunk and perform your particularly nasty kink upon my person, you can bet your sweet ass that I, as the most luscious natural dominatrix imaginable, am going to bring a hefty bum-load of retribution straight round to your back door. And that’s exactly what I did...”

  This is the ballad of Fanny Spänkka, who fell in love with the beautiful drummer and then had her heart broken by Yours Truly. It’s not actually a ballad, obviously. It’s more of a swift tale, but I use the term for the musical connotations, since dearest Fanny does so love to boast to all her girly conquests that she is the lead singer of a rock band. She doesn’t mention that it’s a crap rock band. This isn’t even much of a tale, if I’m honest - more a cautionary note not to get ideas above your station where I am concerned. Because if you get me uncharacteristically drunk and perform your particularly nasty kink upon my person, you can bet your sweet ass that I, as the most luscious natural dominatrix imaginable, am going to bring a hefty bum-load of retribution straight round to your back door. And that’s exactly what I did.

  I never took Fanny that seriously. I mean, her band is called Q.W.I.M. for goodness sake! It stands for Queens Who Idolise Music, apparently. Queens Who Butcher Music, more like - but changing the I to a B prevents the “hilarious” joke of forcing people to use the word quim whenever they mention the band. Their Unique Selling Point is lipstick lesbianism, which is a little tenuous considering that, out of the four-piece, two of them are bisexual at best. Nonetheless, they have built up an unfeasibly loyal fan base of presumably deaf young ladies, who think it cool to dip a toe into the Sapphic pool. And yes, you can sense my bitterness at the fact that ridiculous Fanny has all these nubile rock bitches panting after her.

  She’s not the type I would usually let into my undies. She’s good-looking enough but she talks rubbish all day long and believes her own hype way too much. Moreover, she is an utter fraud. Her trademark kink, the one that inspired her stage name, was stolen off another Rock Goddess who was indeed the genuine article, and became the lead singer of Slikbitch. The two of them had slept together a few times when they were both starting out on the club and student circuits, and young Fanny - then plain Ingrid - had been on the receiving end of this naughty act. She decided she needed an edgy image of her own, so she stole the kink and made it the centre of her sexual repertoire, and then changed her name so that it looked like it was her idea all along.

  I know this to be true because when Slikbitch supported U.S. metal giants Wrath’s Child on the European leg of their world tour, I was invited to come along and take pictures. I got very up close and personal with the aforementioned Rock Goddess, so I know what really happened. Last summer, over the festival season, the paths of the two bands seemed to be permanently crossed. Fanny was around almost constantly. Because of the connection between the two lead singers, Q.W.I.M. got invited to a much better class of aftershow party than their lowly status would normally have allowed.

  Right from the first time I saw Fanny she was trying to make a big noise, but then I guess fame has always been about blagging your way up. Her band was all about sex and sexuality, the mantra being that all girls, gay or straight, should be forever kicking no-good boys into touch in order to try a bit of lady lovin’ with their sexy female mates instead. They had songs called things like “I Turned Her”, and their closest thing to a hit, “Friends with Benefits”. The latter contained the poetry-dodging line, to be shouted in unison by the frenzied female crowd, of guzzle down your BFF’s honey til she screams! Classy.

  It was imperative that everyone knew of Fanny’s sexual preferences. She mentioned it whenever possible and tried always to have a girl in tow. She had the legend “Gorgeous Lesbian” tattooed upon her left shoulder, which is going to look cracking when she is sixty. In spite of her in-yer-face desperation, in spite of the fact she was barely even on the very fringes of fame, she was bewilderingly never short of groupies - more often than not nice lookers, though seldom much out of their teens. The magic word when it comes to sex is clearly not “abracadabra” but “I’minaband”.

  It was seemingly illegal for her not to be seen unless she was snogging the face off one of these groupies. At parties she swapped from one to another. Her favourite stunt was to have a line of them service her as she sat with her legs over the arms of a chair. Part of her regular stage costume was a pleated grey skirt from a school uniform. She would wear this so girls on their knees could easily get their heads up it and give her a good time without compromising her modesty. But one girl was not enough for her, oh no. She would have a caterpillar of them - three, sometimes four in a row, waiting their turn. And she would have the waiting girls put their head up the skirt of the one in front on her knees, or pull down the jeans and panties to get at their privates from the rear.

  It was quite amusing to watch, in truth - very rock ’n’ roll for sure. Fanny did her best to ruin a good thing by calling out a loud, look-at-me commentary of bizarre phrases, like “worship at my creamy temple, you pussy disciple!” And “drink your queen bee’s dirty nectar!” I don’t think even she knew what the fuck she was on about. What with her strange carnal proclamations and cheesy lyrics, I dubbed her band “Vaginal Tap” - something that irked her more than she let on, as I later found out.

  Sometimes she would strike gold and find a groupie game enough to let her show off her party piece. The first time I witnessed it she had cajoled a girl of Chinese extraction to strip naked, save for a leather choke collar and a pair of purple Doc Marten boots. The Chinese girl was cute looking, still carrying a bit of puppy fat, and with creamy-white skin. She had a plump, dark-lipped bare slit. The girl sat on the lap of Fanny in her chair, leaning back into her and opening her legs wide. The girl strained her head round to kiss her lesbian idol and then Fanny lived up to her name by reaching around and smacking the girl’s pussy lips over and over with her fingers.

  It drew quite a crowd, to Miss Spänkka’s delight. The girl moaned and ground he
r backside into her idol’s crotch, and we ooh-ed and aah-ed as we watched the little labia dance and colour up. Fanny kept on until the girl was writhing and squealing, then she slid a couple of fingers up the soaking, punished puss and finished the girl off. I’d seen and done plenty of botty smacking, but never seen it done live to a pussy before this. As sex shows go, I rather liked it. It was fascinating, as well as very rude. Fanny was as pleased as Punch that her efforts had caused such a stir. I don’t think she even minded that the bassist of Wrath’s Child subsequently did the naked girl of Chinese extraction over a table and finished very messily on her back. The impact had already been made.

  So, the wannabe star was beginning to turn heads and get noticed. It followed that the best thing to do was to bare as many groupie pussies as she could and spank them with the same aplomb. It was not a sight we were ever going to tire of. As her reputation built she would have girls come to her already stripped from the waist down, desperate to sacrifice their sensitive bits on the altar of lesbo rock and roll. All these lambs seemed to enjoy their punishment tremendously and I’m fairly sure Fanny never failed to make any of them come. She was a girl seemingly on the way up, getting all the sexy pussy that she could handle.

  However, things were not entirely rosy in the garden of Fanny. Of all the young girls she could get there was one who steadfastly refused to be seduced, and that was her own bandmate, drummer Millie Minks. Sadly for Fanny she had a HUGE crush on Millie, one that drove her to distraction and drink, and to do all those nasty things to her groupies. I will say right now that Millie is one of the most gorgeous females I have ever set eyes upon. If it wasn’t for her I would have been less keen to mix with her band at all. She has sleek black hair almost as long as my own, huge bright blue eyes and cute dimples. She also has a bit of muscle on her which I found curiously rather attractive.

  Despite an appearance of strength, and even though she is in a band, Millie is really rather shy and lacking in self-confidence. She would make appearances at the aforementioned parties but sit quietly drinking in corners, fending off advances, particularly from long-haired tattooed males waving their bare cocks in her face, not quite understanding that lesbians didn’t get turned on by that sort of thing. I shared some common ground with her, because as much as I love sex and kinkiness, I’m not one to expose myself and perform for strangers, which all of the females there were essentially invited to do. I liked the fact that these parties were little short of drunken orgies, with some of the most outrageous antics going on that you would ever see, but I wasn’t going to be just another of the naked tarts being used and abused by all and sundry. That is not how I roll, baby!

  I would sit and chat to her sometimes, fending off advances for the both of us. During our chats she admitted she had something of a crush on me, news I found highly interesting until she let me in on her biggest secret: that she was the most vanilla girl ever to walk the earth. I mean, seriously. Kissing, licking, and fingering were acceptable, but anything more than this just totally freaked her out. She told me all this whilst we watched Fanny first shave and then spank the puss of a pretty blonde on a kitchen worktop in some German record exec’s house. She used a spatula that time, as well as her hand. Millie shivered and said she couldn’t believe girls could do such rude things to each other. She then revealed her borderline frigid ways to me.

  That’s when I realised there was little point in falling for her. I love to be dirty with my female partners and I liked and respected her too much to push her limits. OK, I might have given her a quick going over in her hotel room later that night, but that was only to see if she was as gorgeous down below as she was up top. She was. I didn’t want to lose my heart to someone I couldn’t even put over my knee. It would have got messy and deeply frustrating and would have ended in heartache all round. So, as great as the temptation was, I decided it best not to pursue her, even if out of all those sexy people on show, it was invariably her I went to bed thinking about that long summer.

  I learnt another thing from her that evening. I discovered that Fanny sent Millie constant secret messages proclaiming her love. These were always rebuffed because, although the attraction was mutual, the drummer was petrified of being romantically involved with someone so kinky. Fanny always promised it was an act and she could change, but at every next party, drunk and a slave to her image, she would be up to her usual dirty tricks. I try not to do jealousy, but it tore at me a little to think that if silly Fanny could just put her ego aside for one moment, she might well end up with someone as gorgeous and wholesome as Millie. It wasn’t that I hated Fanny, it was just that I found her so shallow and facile. If the two of them ended up together, Fanny would eventually resort to type. She would cheat on and abuse her bashful bandmate because she was too worried about not appearing rock and roll enough if she didn’t. Millie deserved better. I’m convinced if she were less cripplingly shy she would have set her sights much higher. Like on me, for instance.

  So, we had a difficult situation. On one hand we had a very pretty girl who wanted to give her heart, as long as it was to someone who respected her timid ways in sex; on the other was a wannabe star, hopelessly in love with the pretty girl but unable to snare her because of her habitual raunchy antics. The more groupies the wannabe star seduced and the more depraved acts she openly carried out upon their young bodies, the less chance there was of capturing the pretty girl’s heart. Of course, the more the pretty girl rebuffed her, the more desolate the wannabe star became and, in sinking into her need for self-aggrandizement, the more groupies she drunkenly seduced.

  Then there was me. I could see that Fanny wasn’t addicted to dirty sex like I was; she simply wanted to create an infamous image for herself. If she had just knocked it on the head, Millie might have forgiven the countless groupies and allowed things to develop between them. If Fanny knew there was such a chance, she might have avoided wallowing in self-pity, getting drunk and taking out her frustrations on the naked pussies of the pretty groupies. I was privy to both sides of the coin. I could have sat them down and talked them through these differences and perhaps left everyone happy. Well, all except for me, that is. I still thought Fanny a posturing nonsense of a girl who did not deserve Millie. Rather than setting them straight, I decided to put the pretty one on the back burner and enjoy the antics of the silly one, encouraging her in every way that I could to continue her naughty ways.

  My encouragement was helped by the fact that Fanny was jealous of me, and more than a little in awe. She thought I had already “made it”, although in truth I was merely a visitor to the rock and roll scene, briefly coming along for the ride. But because of my looks I had power and no one messed with me. I could say and do anything to anyone. I was lusted after; revered by some. It didn’t help that I casually let Fanny know of Millie’s crush on me. It drove her wild knowing I could have what she could not at the drop of a hat.

  I developed something of a love/hate relationship with the silly singer. She was entertaining to be around because she was just so damn ridiculous, and because she was ever desperate to push the limits of her naughty ways. She was always worried that I might steal her thunder and so at opportune moments I ensured that I did exactly that. However, I was very careful to do it when Millie was not around to witness it. I didn’t want the pretty drummer to lose that crush on me!

  If Fanny was dealing out one of her trade-mark spankings, I would get a prettier girl in the same room to commit a greater depravity. Fanny would then try and up the ante, and her efforts would become ever more eye-opening. She became a terribly, terribly dirty bitch, but I could always trump her because I had the greater imagination. When two Dutch girl fans caught us as we were heading out of our hotel foyer, she made them kiss right there and slide their hands down the front of their jeans as they did so, in front of all the staff and a few guests. To top that I had the girls peel off completely, and totter down the street in front of our car in their h
igh heels, their G-strings hanging from their backsides. They gave us an escort two streets to the bar we were heading for.

  When I learned that Fanny was to attend an aftershow bash dressed only in black boots and a sheer bodystocking, with only a tiny pair of knickers to keep her honest, I showed up in a skin-tight purple latex catsuit with a built-in smooth plastic dildo at the crotch. I drew the bigger gasps, to her obvious chagrin. Wearing a similar outfit, travelling with Fanny in a lift up to her room with only a chubby but pretty Parisian hotel receptionist for company, I seduced the receptionist by floor four, stopped the lift and did her in her fat bottom with my built-in dildo. Fanny had already crashed and burned with her “do you know who I am?” chat-up line that received no more than a lukewarm Parisian smile.

  At this point I don’t know if Fanny hated me or was besotted by me. She certainly seemed to want to be around me as much as possible. She tried to seduce me several times but I would just laugh at her.

  ‘If I wanted to fuck a girl in a band, I’d just go fuck Millie,’ I used to say to her, cruelly.

  I think she loved me, hated me, and wanted to be me in equal measure. Now there were two girls she desperately wanted but couldn’t have: one that couldn’t abide her dirty ways with other girls, and the other, me, who loved to watch them. She put all her eggs in one basket with me and tried ever harder to seduce me through kinkiness. I should applaud her really because she’s a gal after my own heart, but then she tricked me and took advantage, so all niceties went out the window.

  I don’t drink much, sticking usually to champagne, which there was always plenty of at the bashes I attended. I should have known better than to let Fanny fetch my drinks that night, but I was feeling sorry for her. The night before I had made her come with my fingers in front of a roomful of girls, then publically refused her the chance to return the favour. I wasn’t being spiteful, I’m just very picky about who does and doesn’t get to see me in compromising positions. However, I felt guilty about leaving her beside herself with frustration and close to tears. Maybe it was just the champagne, but I strongly suspect some glasses had the addition of vodka sneaked in for me to drink, because by midnight I was very giggly and not my usual level-headed self.