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Blonde babe plays with her girlfriend.
Just as you had regained your composure and was ready to return to the
party, you heard the sharp click of a heel coming down on the floor at
the doorway behind you. You turned, slowly, knowing that it couldn’t
be her, both hoping and fearing that it was. And, of course, it was:
she was wearing her hat and carrying her riding crop, dressed as if
ready to depart. She continued to walk up to you as you stood
motionless, your mouth dry and heart pounding so loud you were afraid
it might drowned out the band. She stopped her confident stride only
three feet from you, and then (with an ironic smile) doffed her hat in
a graceful bow.

One last dance? she asked, eyes smiling and deep, velvet over steel.

Yes, you said, so softly you were sure no one else could hear. But
from your body, your face, you knew what you were saying to her: Yes.
Please. Anything. I beg you.

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And, again, she turned away, but this time with the most delicate and
private of smiles; a smile that was kind and cruel, loving and harsh
all at once. And you could bear it no longer; as swiftly as you could
you hastened out of the room, down the long carpeted hall, across the
cold wood floor of the study to the window, casting it open and deeply
drinking the night air, feeling tears of joy? shame? rage? well up on
your face.

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Two best friends

She was tall, at least six feet. She was dressed in black, in a
perfect coachman’s uniform. She wore tight pants fit into calf-high
boots, shiny and well-polished. Her vest, cut to give her a tight
V-figure, was closed with a double row of bright silver buttons.
Those, and her white cravat, were the only thing which were not black,
black to the point of absorbing the light around her. Her hands and
fingers were long and delicate as she casually tapped the palm of one
hand with a riding crop. Her features were strong, aristocratic, not
feminine except in their beauty. Her close-cropped hair was nearly
completely concealed by a coachman’s top hat. But her eyes drew you
most of all. Large, intense, as dark as her clothing, they held to the
promise of lust, passion, power and even cruelty

The band struck up a waltz on a slightly off note, shocking you back to
reality. You dimly were aware of your partner taking your hand and
leading you onto the dance floor, and the movement gradually brought
you to earth. Occasionally as the dance progressed, you would glimpse
her dancing with women (and always leading). But after every dance,
she was someplace else, asking someone else to dance; you could never
seem to get near to her. Finally, the impression of her first
appearance faded, and the evening continued.
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Busty Lesbi Sex

“Just go with it Suzy,” Candy unbuttoned the tiny blouse and revealed two huge tits cramped up in a black see-through bra. After unbuttoning the bra the tits sprung out and slammmed Candy in the face. Meanwhile Jenny jumped under the table and pushed up the miniskirt. She felt the wetness of Suzy’s pussy pushing … [Read more…]

Dirty Lesbo Krystal

If you know this hottie lesbo Krystal, you know that she often has very dirty thoughts in mind. This is especially true when shes in the kitchen, as if all those strange-looking devices would inspire her to be kinky! Check this sensual lesbian sex gallery for free. And join LezCuties!