It was Wednesday evening when Miss Pauline, after taking a leisurely stroll on the winding pathways of the Hawley estate, found herself passing the stables. Evening shadows were falling and it would soon be dark, but she couldn't resist paying a visit to her favorite of the Hawley's horses, a magnificent black stallion named Finn. The stable was shadowy and...
Welcome dear readers to this, my erotic lesbian romantic ghost story and entry for the "HALLOWEEN STORY CONTEST 2015". I hope you will enjoy reading it but I feel I should warn t you that it is a lengthy story -- for those who have read some of my other work I hope this means you'll think "Oh goody!" and not "Oh no, not again!" My thanks, as ever, to my wo...
I could feel her eyes on me before I woke up. Half-asleep, I lifted my head. For a brief moment, our eyes met in the dark. Her eyes glittered under dark bangs, an outlaw's hat, high cheekbones casting shadows in the dim light. Her eyes narrowed as she cocked her head, one eyebrow raised. A challenge. Was I crazy, or was that a half smile on her face? Just...
The first rays of sunlight crept through the casement window with the unhurried stealth of a Samarian thief. Stirred from her dream-sodden sleep, Sarila reached across to embrace her lover, Mansur, but found yet again only emptiness in her bed. Wistfully she turned over and, hitching the thin night shift above her hips, slipped her hand between her thighs....
As a math major, I am used to thinking logically, concentrating long and hard on abstract, abstruse concepts, and following long chains of reasoning. But after a while, once I reported for pledge duty at the sorority house, I found it more and more difficult to think clearly. We were always chanting something or doing something repetitive or running ourselve...
I. Take the afternoon, said Mr Hubert. There was no need for both of them to sit with the girls and be bored to horsehair in Madame Salle's villa all afternoon. Courtesy visits, he added dryly, and didn't she need to do anything? Postcards home, or something. They'd see her in the evening, sometime after supper. Not too late. She could sort something out on...
Part the Final: In Which Miss Esme Winterblossom, Now Wearing The Mantle Of The Late Sapphic Pirate Miranda, Conceives An Extraordinary Plan Of Escape For Her Crew From The Sargasso Sea, Through The Use of A Rite Suggested By Her Catamite Hippolyte, And Boldly Goes Where No Sapphic Pirate Has Gone Before * * * Sept. 17, 17-- And Beyond The Infinite Capta...
Note: This story was inspired by Khachaturian's Masquerade Waltz, so in an attempt to try something new, I've set it this piece to music. Though the music isn't entirely period correct to New York's Gilded Age where our story takes place, I hope you'll enjoy it all the same. -AG Suggested Playlist: Jazz Suite No. 2: VI. Waltz -- Dmitri Shostakovich (1938)...
This story deals with themes of reluctance and coercion in a lesbian setting. If you feel you might be offended please try another story. Chapter 1 She looked so innocent, and I was going to ask her to give her life. Neither the drab grey of her prison uniform nor the harsh overhead lights of the interview room could detract from her natural beauty. The f...
Chapter 3 : Pix. As I said earlier, I've never wanted to belong. I simply do not do 'community'. Give me one or two people with whom I can have the odd chat, and one at any given time to indulge my nastier side, and I'm happy with my books and music. But even I don't live in a complete vacuum, and I had a passing familiarity with others in my line of work...