Nothing but a Fling: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

“I wish I could take this blanket off,” she murmured. “I wish I could show everybody what I’m doing to you. How powerless I make you. I want them to see the exact moment I. Make. You. Come.”

And with that, Vanessa went over the edge.

Her entire pelvis trembled when the pleasure finally exploded. Her insides convulsed rapidly and her walls gripped Megan’s fingers frantically. Her come streamed out of her and drips of it made their way towards her ass.

She had to fight to stifle the cries she wanted to release and in so doing forgot to breathe for about fifteen seconds. When she finally blew out the breath it weakened her even more. Megan, meanwhile, coaxed her through the orgasm by curling the fingers she had inside Vanessa and pressing the heel of her hand firmly on Vanessa’s pussy, providing a surface for Vanessa to grind against while the climax expended itself.

Miraculously, Vanessa did not make a sound but her eyes watered from the effort and a couple of tears streamed down her cheeks. It was not lost on her, even in that moment, that this was the second time Megan had caused tears to fall from her eyes by making her come so hard.

This woman isn’t human.

When she was spent and all that remained was her gently throbbing clit, she managed to whisper, “Oh my fucking God.”

Megan kissed Vanessa’s sensitive spot, on her neck, just below her earlobe.

“Good girl,” she murmured.

Megan finally removed her hand from between Vanessa’s legs.

“Now, look at me,” Megan ordered quietly.

Locking her eyes with Vanessa’s and making sure she had her complete attention Megan removed her hand from underneath the blanket and brought her come-slickened fingers up to Vanessa’s mouth. She then rubbed one of the fingers first along Vanessa’s bottom lip and then her top one until both lips were glossed with her own come. And then Megan leaned in and kissed her deeply.

Vanessa thought she was going to lose her mind.

Less than a month ago, Vanessa was not imagining spending a night like this anytime soon. Yet here she was, on a beautiful California night, on the deck of a beach house, cuddled against a gorgeous woman that not only had given her a great business idea earlier but had just given her a secret, thigh-quivering orgasm under the noses of their friends and who was now kissing her using her own come as lipstick.

This was living.

Chapter 38

“So, finish telling me about Kat. Is she the woman you were telling me about who winked at you in the grocery store a couple of weeks ago?” Megan as

ked Abby the next day.

She and Abby were out on the deck because where else would they be? The day was almost cliché Southern California in terms of weather and both women were in lounge chairs that faced the beach, deriving entertainment from watching a group of novice teenage surfers fail badly at mastering the tame Carlsbad-area surf. Megan was wearing one of her favorite bikinis, a stringy number that had made Vanessa talk seriously about keeping La Vida Mocha closed for the day when she saw Megan in it, while Abby was more covered up in cut-off denim shorts and a black tank.

It was just after lunch and Kat and Sienna had gone to the supermarket to buy ingredients for tonight’s dinner that Kat planned on making later. Angela and Desiree were back upstairs in their room, the window closed this time. Megan and Abby had the deck to themselves.

Megan realized that lately, she hadn’t had much chance to just sit and chat with Abby. Part of it was because of the pandemic, sure; she and Abby simply just didn’t get together as often; but Megan also knew that most of it was because of what she had going on with Vanessa.

“The one and the same,” Abby answered Megan’s question. “So, after that first time I saw her, when she winked at me, I went back to Von’s every day at the same time, hoping to see her again.”

“Stalker,” Megan teased.

“You bet!” Abby declared. “Four fucking days I went back until she finally showed up and when she did, I just happened to crash my cart into hers.”

“Oh my God! So sitcom!” Megan said, laughing.

“Fuck, it worked,” Abby said, raising the red plastic cup containing the vodka cranberry she was drinking in an apparent salute to the sapphic goddesses.

“Well, she seems nice,” Megan said, meaning it. “I’m enjoying her company and I can tell you are too.”

“Yeah, she’s good people,” Abby responded. “So, um, can I assume those bruises on your ass are consensual?” Abby asked pointedly, looking at the marks Megan’s bikini bottoms could not hide, even though Megan was sitting.

“Totally,” Megan assured her. “My roommate just could not control herself last night.”

Abby rolled her eyes.