A romantic first time lesbian love between neighbours
Author: Max Scratchman Categories: Romantic Sex, Written by Men, Couples Fucking, Lesbian PornComment
The drapes were white and gossamer thin, and they undulated softly in the warm breeze, their caress on her almost-naked body a lover’s promise. She has lived with Lana in this beautiful flat for several years now, but when they make love she still feels like she’s been abducted to some other-worldly palace. Magical. The high terraced windows that overlook the bay with its bobbing yachts and their strings of coloured lights. The almost overpowering scents from the distant lavender fields on summer nights, the soft moth-wing touches of the billowing nets like a third person stroking her nakedness. She shudders to Lana’s kisses and waits impatiently for her lover to ease her pants down and put her tongue into her wet and willing cunt.
And yet she still remembers another time, another room, another life, far, far away.
It was her first flat. Well, it wasn’t really a flat, strictly speaking, just a big attic room at the top of the house with a dormer window where she could see all the streets of the town stretching out like her Dad’s old motoring road maps. Tiny metallic-coloured vehicles buzzing about like die-cast toy cars, the river with its mostly derelict docks flowing by like a silver ribbon. There was a kitchen in the basement, but she never used it, getting by with the tiny wash hand basin in her room and a toaster and electric kettle. She had meant to buy a microwave when she moved in, but had never got round to it, surviving on buttered toast and sachets of dehydrated soup mix made up in cups, fruit when she remembered to buy it and biscuits at night when she treated herself to hot chocolate.
The bathroom was downstairs and she shared it with the girl who lived on the floor below, who she hadn’t met yet, though she’d inhaled her floral scent and seen her footprints in the spilled talc on the worn linoleum floor. The whole room was a bit of a relic, actually, with a big iron bathtub, faded fish-patterned wallpaper and a funny single bar electric heater on the wall that was attached to a meter that literally ate pound coins and did nothing to keep the room warm, the whole place filling up with steam and the walls running with condensation every time she took a bath.
And she was just emerging from the selfsame room that fateful night—she still remembers the time to this day, twenty minutes past seven on a wet Thursday at the start of term—one very frayed towel around her body, another mismatched one turban-style on her head, when a door opened across the hall......to read the rest of this story please login or register to read the full story free.
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