1. Sarah


    Date: 10/27/2017, Categories: Lesbian, Author: claire2013, Rating: 10, Source: LushStories

    Sarah had been in Paris for some six months when, out of the blue, I received a call from her asking if she could come and stay with me at my apartment in Rome for a week or two. Of course I said yes. I had not seen Sarah since we left college in Chicago three years previously and went our separate ways. She, with the ultimate aim of becoming a writer, went to work for a small publishing company in New York. I, on the other hand, decided to spend, or some would say waste, a year traveling the world. She was hoping to find her sense of perspective while I was hoping to lose mine. Ironically, in no small measure we both achieved what the other was seeking. Having written a novel and two volumes of short stories, none of which had been favorably received by any of the publishers she had submitted them to, for whatever reason she decided to embark on a stuttering and largely unsatisfactory odyssey as something of a femme fatale. Physically she was perfect for the role, with a sleek torrent of tousled, untamed, shoulder-length ebony hair, moonless and whispering eyes bathed in seduction, vertiginous cheekbones, and full, luxurious lips which seemed to reflect a natural, dark and sun-kissed cherry hue. She had several brief ‘affairs’, which lasted no more than a matter of days before she would make some excuse to end them. She would retreat discreetly into whatever solitary space she could find in a desperate attempt to reclaim her perspective. Having done so, she would exit her ...
    brittle, self-woven cocoon once more. A secret part of me had always loved Sarah. I had tried on more than one occasion during our college years to seduce her. However, I had soon realized that Sarah’s life was essentially lived within the velvet confines of her mind. Some would call her a fantasist, but that was unfair. I had formed the conclusion that she was simply afraid of relationships. It seemed to me that somehow every part of her, down to the warm, syrupy, insistent responses between her legs, was made for sensual pleasure. There was, however, a restraint within her which suddenly seemed to provoke the lowering of a dark veil over her ability to control the inevitable feelings and emotions that followed them. Eventually, partly in order to satisfy her all-consuming need to write, but more with the intention of building herself a soft, save haven in which to play out the desires of her alter ego to what she considered to be their natural conclusions, she began to write erotica, with increasing commercial success. She steadily began to build a reputation for herself within the genre. However at the same time she also found herself attracting the attention of some, primarily predator males, who simply wanted to slip inside her panties and enjoy the pleasure of her wild and vivid sexual imagination. They assumed that if she was creating a world of rampant sex and lust in her books that she would certainly be interested in enjoying them herself with just about anyone. In ...
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