Older women/younger girls - a lesbian picture/story thread

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EllaFord

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Her first touch is electric, liquid fire on my skin. Unexpected, but not surprising; terrifying, but yet still a relief. I close my eyes and try to control the rhythm of my pounding heart, but the absence of light intensifies the sensation of her caress. It dizzies me, I fall back into her arms.
"It's okay baby," she whispers, the voice of trust, the avatar of security, breathing warm words into my ear.
I shiver as she hooks her fingers under my bra, as she slides the straps over my trembling shoulders, as the cool night air pricks at nipples already hard as stone.
I know that this is wrong, this betrayal, this trespass. I know that I must leave, that I must break the spell that Ms. Ford has cast upon me. But I cannot. I could no more fly to the moon than flee her cloying embrace.
"Lie back," she says, touching her lips to the nape of my neck, pushing me gently down to the waiting bed. Her soft perfume invades me, intoxicates me, and realisation seeps into my mind. I know where she means to go, what she means to do, though it is instinct rather than experience that informs me.
A warm flush rises from between my legs, igniting my senses, pushing me deeper into the hazy trance of my desire.
"Lie back," she repeats, barely a whisper, no force or threat, but I find myself moving, falling, turning, opening myself like a spent marionette with no more resistance left to offer. And then she's on me and my innocence fades like an afterthought...
 
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It wasn't until her hand slipped into my panties that I knew there was anything wrong. Do you believe that? Perhaps not, I wouldn't blame you.
I was eighteen, naive, prone to flights of fancy and an abundance of trust. In the depths of my innocence I fell for their soft words and whispered compliments like a rube, nodding along to their pretty talk and promises of discretion.
Was I complicit in my own downfall? Not consciously. When two older women tell you there's nothing to be ashamed of in nakedness, that you have a beautiful body, that you're just going to pretend you're a model and pose for photos, it seems like a game among friends. When two older women that you trust say these things, two older women that your mom trusts, you play along. Because every step seems natural, each sordid progression is but a short hop from the last.
But when she slips her hand between your legs, breaching the defensive line of your pretty lace panties with a sigh, you suddenly realize. When she pushes her fingers into that uncharted region that once seemed so forbidden, you know that your fate is sealed. When she whispers into your ear, telling you in exquisite and deliberate detail just what she and her friend are going to do to you, the myriad ways that they'll use your body, every sordid perversion and lingering humiliation... When she speaks these words you feel something different, something new, something that excites you though you don't yet know why.
And when she asks you, with calm precision, if you'll be a good girl for your new mommies, all you can do then is nod.
 
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"What's going to happen, Abigail? What did you think would happen when you came over here, when you came to my house? That we'd make out and eat cake? You know what I am, what I do, your mom must have told you that much. So, here's what's going to happen, honey... You're going to change into that cute little outfit I've picked out for you, then I'm going to spank your ass till you cry. When I'm done with that, I'm going to fuck your tight little pussy hard with my plastic cock, followed by your dirty little ass, then I'm going to ride your face until you beg me to stop. I'm going to make my pussy the center of your fucking universe, the reason you get up in the morning, the last thing you think of when I send you to bed at night. You're going to call me mommy and you're going to do every fucking thing that I tell you... But I get it, people make mistakes. If you want to leave, there's the door. I won't stop you. So what is it to be Abigail, will you stay?"
"... yes, mommy."
 
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"Honey, you're shaking," Sasha said, standing behind me, looming over me like a goddess."You ever been with a black woman before?"
I shook my head nervously. I hadn't. In truth, I'd never been with any flavor of woman, neither black nor white and all stops in between. I tried to pull away from her, to excuse myself and run downstairs, to forget this whole misunderstanding ever happened, but she pulled me back to the bed. How on earth did I get myself into this mess?
Sasha Wilson was the eldest daughter of my boss, the owner of Wilson Pharmaceuticals, where I was an intern. Older than me, more confident, fashionable and self-assured, Sasha was everything that I wasn't. And, at that precise moment, her hands were roaming over my back and tugging at the thin lace that held my shirt in place.
"You must want to though, baby," she purred into my ear. Her tone was friendly, almost lyrical, but with a subtle hint of menace that made me shiver. She reached down and gripped my hips, pulling me towards her. "Otherwise, why would I find you sneaking into my room, looking through my things?"
She glanced down at the bed and the collection of dildos and vibrators spread out before us. Truthfully, I'd slipped away from Mr. Wilson's BBQ for a few minutes to look for the bathroom, stumbling into Sasha's bedroom by mistake, turning left when I should have turned right. Sasha's toys were out when I got there, arrayed haphazardly like a child's playthings. I'd turned to leave quickly, to forget what I'd seen, but Sasha had been standing in the door, her hands on her hips, gazing at me with narrowed eyes. And now here I was...
"Let's get this cute little thing off you," she said, pulling my shirt up my body and over my head. I opened my mouth to resist but found that I couldn't speak. The cool breeze of the late summer afternoon touched my exposed skin, inciting a rash of goose flesh, making me shudder.
Sasha placed her hand on my stomach and I gazed at it, unable to look away, captivated by the sight of her dusky skin against my pale flesh. Her fingers felt velvety soft and enticingly warm. I shuddered again and felt my heartbeat quicken. She began to stroke upwards, over my bra, onto my chest.
"Oh honey, your heart is pounding like a jackhammer," she purred. Her breath was warm and sweet, red wine and pure desire. "Do I scare you, baby?"
I nodded, I was terrified. I had no idea what was going to happen, no idea how to stop it, or if I even wanted to.
"I won't bite you, baby," she said, then her full lips curled up into a sultry smile. "Unless you want me to?"
I sighed as she slipped her hand down, pushing her fingers beneath the waistline of my skirt.
"Now, you can go on back to that boring old barbecue if you really want to," she breathed, creeping her fingers into the shock of hair between my legs, sliding ever downwards into the aching warmth of my sex. "Or you can stay here, and I can show you what a real woman can do to a pretty little thing like you."
She gripped my chin and turned my head, forcing me to look at the collection a plastic toys laid out on the bed before me, a buffet of pleasure and pain.
"So, what is it to be?"
I thought for a millisecond, then whispered my response.
"I didn't hear you, honey."
"Stay, Miss, I want to stay."
And I really, really did.
 
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"Oh, honey, don't look so appalled. After all, I've seen the pictures on your phone, I've seen the things you do when you're alone with your filthy little college girlfriends, the sinful, depraved things you let them do to you. Things you definitely wouldn't want your mom to see now, would you? So here's what we're going to do. When I give the word, I want you to lie back and put out your tongue. And when I sit my delicious, wet pussy down on your pretty little face you're going to thank your mistress and show her what a college slut like you can really do."
 
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"Were you expecting my idiot husband, honey? Surprised to see me instead? Well here's the thing... He and I have been talking, and he's agreed that being caught fucking his pretty little slut secretary has left him in somewhat of a sticky situation. He owes me big time, basically, but I'm a reasonable bitch, and I told him that if he wanted to avoid me taking half of everything in a messy divorce, he could simply give you to me. Being a spineless turd, he agreed without thinking about it. So you belong to me now, missy, and I'm going to pound that tight little asshole of yours harder than he ever did and there's not a single damn thing you can do about it. Now get down on your knees and call me mommy."
 
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"What's going to happen, Abigail? What did you think would happen when you came over here, when you came to my house? That we'd make out and eat cake? You know what I am, what I do, your mom must have told you that much. So, here's what's going to happen, honey... You're going to change into that cute little outfit I've picked out for you, then I'm going to spank your ass till you cry. When I'm done with that, I'm going to fuck your tight little pussy hard with my plastic cock, followed by your dirty little ass, then I'm going to ride your face until you beg me to stop. I'm going to make my pussy the center of your fucking universe, the reason you get up in the morning, the last thing you think of when I send you to bed at night. You're going to call me mommy and you're going to do every fucking thing that I tell you... But I get it, people make mistakes. If you want to leave, there's the door. I won't stop you. So what is it to be Abigail, will you stay?"
"... yes, mommy."

....yes mommy:heart:
 
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"What's going to happen, Abigail? What did you think would happen when you came over here, when you came to my house? That we'd make out and eat cake? You know what I am, what I do, your mom must have told you that much. So, here's what's going to happen, honey... You're going to change into that cute little outfit I've picked out for you, then I'm going to spank your ass till you cry. When I'm done with that, I'm going to fuck your tight little pussy hard with my plastic cock, followed by your dirty little ass, then I'm going to ride your face until you beg me to stop. I'm going to make my pussy the center of your fucking universe, the reason you get up in the morning, the last thing you think of when I send you to bed at night. You're going to call me mommy and you're going to do every fucking thing that I tell you... But I get it, people make mistakes. If you want to leave, there's the door. I won't stop you. So what is it to be Abigail, will you stay?"
"... yes, mommy."

I've been called " mom". There's nothing like it.
 
Something I wrote years ago. This looks like a good place to repost

The room is lit only by the DVD playing on the TV mounted on the wall at the foot of the bed. The sound turned off so I can hear my lover when she gets home. I have been waiting for what seems like forever for her arrival. I need her so badly, it has been almost a week since she left on her business trip and we have never been apart this long since we met almost a full year ago.

I softly stroke my breast with my free hand while I think about her. We met at, of all places, a bowling alley. She was in the next lane with a group of friends from work. I was there with my boyfriend at the time. Sitting side by side at the scoring table we started chatting and I felt an instant connection to this beautiful woman. Her eyes were so deep and piercing, it was if she could see directly into me. I was mesmerized every time she looked at me, and I felt an attraction to her soul, long before I realized how gorgeous she was.

We agreed to meet at the bowling alley the following Friday, and I moved in for good one week later. The first time we made love, I knew she was all I would ever want or need in my life. So giving, so strong, so tender, so absolutely sexy, I have never known sex to be so complete.

Thinking about our first time together, I catch my free hand moving between my outstretched legs, my index finger slowly circling my clit.

"Stop it Teri", I tell myself. "You need to wait for her to return".

But it is so hard to wait. I have been preparing for her for hours. A long hot bath with oils and scented lotion. Clean shaven, and wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, I phoned her just before her flight.

"I'll be home in three hours Hun", she said. "I miss you, be ready for me when I get there".

I knew what that meant, and I almost came just thinking about it.

"Come straight home from the airport Lover", I replied. "I will be waiting for you".

I cleaned the house and put fresh sheets on the bed. I thought about wearing my sexy red bra and matching thong, but decided she would probably want me nude upon her arrival.

I look up at the TV and watch the girls as they play. The blonde is face deep in the oriental girl’s crotch, greedily sucking away at her hard little clit. I don't need to hear the sound to know the little Asian one is cumming, I can see it on her face and by the way she is clenching the sheets tightly in her fists on either side of her body. A few minutes later the scene changes to three young girls poolside. Why is it, I wonder, porn always cuts away after the climax and you never get to witness the afterglow? The tender caresses of two lovers, the whispered endearments.

I catch myself stroking my clit again and stop. I am so wet I can feel the juices running down the crack of my ass. I smile to myself, natural lubricant. I hope she notices. But I know she will. She never leaves me wanting, and always knows what I need. Again, it is her eyes. They see right into me.

My legs are tied to the bed posts. There is some slack in the restraints, just enough for me to lift them a little if she wants better access. I look down at the binding on my ankles and smile. She has taught me so much about myself. I never even thought about being tied up before. Now, we play this way often. I love to be totally at her disposal. The feeling of giving her total control. I trust her completely.

My left wrist is tied to the headboard above me. Pulled tight, the restraints have my back arched slightly. This causes my 34B breasts to appear slightly larger than they are. I look down at my nipples, pulled tight and very erect. I can't wait for her to come home and nibble on them. She likes to gently bite them and pull on them with her teeth. I love it when she does this. They are so sensitive; I feel her touch all the way to my clit when she softly chews.

I feel more of my wetness running down between my thighs. Come home Lover I plead to the empty house.

I glance at the nightstand on my right. Everything she may want or need is there. I smile at the collection. Several vibes of differing sizes, two but plugs and some beads, lotions, oils, and a leather crop. Hanging on the wall above the nightstand is her harness. A medium sized purple dildo already inserted into the opening. What will she choose to use tonight I wonder. All of these items, none of them, I catch my breath in anticipation.

I hear the garage door open downstairs. I reach over with my right hand and grab the strap above my head. Quickly I slip my hand through the slipknot as I hear the door open off the kitchen. I pull my arm back, tightening the restraint around my wrist. I wait.

Soon I hear her heels as she climbs the stairs. There are fourteen of them and I silently count each step, my anticipation growing. Now she is in the hall, her steps coming closer, I clench my eyes shut. The footsteps cease and I open my eyes. My lover is standing in the doorway staring at me with those deep, dark eyes, a half smile on her face.

"Welcome home Lover", I say, as she approaches .....
 
Hot! Love it! :)

I also hate when porn doesn't show more post-orgasmic bliss. My gf always laughs at how I skip forward to the end in porn videos to make sure that everyone had a good time :)
 
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I caught them on my bed of all places, as brazen as you like. The daughters of my neighbors; eighteen and leaving for college in the fall. They were normally such wide-eyed innocents, polite and studious, grade-A students. So I was surprised to find them cavorting in their underwear like bordello hookers! Surprised, but not disappointed.
"Ms. Ford!" said the blonde Talia as I stepped into the room.
"We weren't doing anything," protested Cindy, the angelic brunette. Her smeared lipstick and tussled hair told a different story.
"What would your mothers say?" I purred, shutting the door behind me. "On a Sunday, after church as well!"
"Please don't tell! We'll be good girls!" wailed Cindy. I could see the damp wetness on her pantyhose between her legs. It made me hungry.
"Oh, I don't think anyone is going to be telling anyone anything," I said as I sat down beside them. I reached down and slipped off Talia's pretty little heel, revealing the soft arch of her foot, the perfect sapphires of her painted toes like muted jewels beneath her pale pantyhose. My heart skipped a beat. "After all, this will be just between the three of us... But only if you're good girls for your Aunt Ella."
 
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"Ms. Ford, you really shouldn't... my mom thinks you've taken me to the opera and... oh, Ms. Ford, I'm not sure I feel comfortable with you touching me there and... oh, oh god... oh shit Ms. Ford, your hand feels so good... Promise... promise you won't tell my mom?"
 
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@tericloth
I clearly remember that I read this story of you in another thread before. it definitely worth to read it again, thank you ;)
share more if you have any btw :)

@EllaFord
the more I think the less I understand why those 2 hotties were making out on your bed, you lucky lady :D but it really doesn't matter, does it? :rolleyes:
thank you! :)
 
@tericloth
I clearly remember that I read this story of you in another thread before. it definitely worth to read it again, thank you ;)
share more if you have any btw :)

@EllaFord
the more I think the less I understand why those 2 hotties were making out on your bed, you lucky lady :D but it really doesn't matter, does it? :rolleyes:
thank you! :)


Very, very erotic
 
Love it.

I'm trying to find material with mature straight women being seduced by young lesbians; such material seems very difficult to find!
 
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If someone had told Kelly a month ago that kneeling could feel so good, she would never have believed them. But that was the old Kelly, the wilful, disruptive Kelly. The Kelly whose life was out of control and going nowhere, a constant struggle to find something that she couldn't articulate, the endless weight of expectation, the ceaseless burden of responsibility.

Was it really only a month ago? She could scarcely believe it. It felt like a lifetime. That distant, formless time before Ms. Masters found her. Before the older woman plucked her from a dingy downtown bar, saving her from another tawdry encounter with a faceless suitor, another crushing failure to give meaning to her empty life.

It felt like a dream now, but Ms. Masters had saved her with a single word, a solitary command, irresistible in its simplicity: "kneel". Delivered with neither violence nor threat, no hidden agenda, merely the requirement of obedience. "Kneel."

And obedience did come, in time. Reluctant at first, resistant, unwilling to embrace what her soul yearned for the most, she rebelled and tested the limits of her patron. But Ms. Masters was patient, delivering gentle encouragement as much as cruel discipline; a soft word or the bitter sting of her hand, both delivered with the same love, establishing structure amidst the chaos of Kelly's life.

Now, the old Kelly is gone, and in her place is the perfect pet, an obedient slave who strives to express her adoration for her Mistress in everything she does, in pleasure or pain, in the endless pursuit of submission.

And the new Kelly knows what her old self never would have believed - good girls kneel, and being a good girl is the most important thing of all.
 
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If someone had told Kelly a month ago that kneeling could feel so good, she would never have believed them. But that was the old Kelly, the wilful, disruptive Kelly. The Kelly whose life was out of control and going nowhere, a constant struggle to find something that she couldn't articulate, the endless weight of expectation, the ceaseless burden of responsibility.

Was it really only a month ago? She could scarcely believe it. It felt like a lifetime. That distant, formless time before Ms. Masters found her. Before the older woman plucked her from a dingy downtown bar, saving her from another tawdry encounter with a faceless suitor, another crushing failure to give meaning to her empty life.

It felt like a dream now, but Ms. Masters had saved her with a single word, a solitary command, irresistible in its simplicity: "kneel". Delivered with neither violence nor threat, no hidden agenda, merely the requirement of obedience. "Kneel."

And obedience did come, in time. Reluctant at first, resistant, unwilling to embrace what her soul yearned for the most, she rebelled and tested the limits of her patron. But Ms. Masters was patient, delivering gentle encouragement as much as cruel discipline; a soft word or the bitter sting of her hand, both delivered with the same love, establishing structure amidst the chaos of Kelly's life.

Now, the old Kelly is gone, and in her place is the perfect pet, an obedient slave who strives to express her adoration for her Mistress in everything she does, in pleasure or pain, in the endless pursuit of submission.

And the new Kelly knows what her old self never would have believed - good girls kneel, and being a good girl is the most important thing of all.

Wonderful. :cattail:
 
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If someone had told Kelly a month ago that kneeling could feel so good, she would never have believed them. But that was the old Kelly, the wilful, disruptive Kelly. The Kelly whose life was out of control and going nowhere, a constant struggle to find something that she couldn't articulate, the endless weight of expectation, the ceaseless burden of responsibility.

Was it really only a month ago? She could scarcely believe it. It felt like a lifetime. That distant, formless time before Ms. Masters found her. Before the older woman plucked her from a dingy downtown bar, saving her from another tawdry encounter with a faceless suitor, another crushing failure to give meaning to her empty life.

It felt like a dream now, but Ms. Masters had saved her with a single word, a solitary command, irresistible in its simplicity: "kneel". Delivered with neither violence nor threat, no hidden agenda, merely the requirement of obedience. "Kneel."

And obedience did come, in time. Reluctant at first, resistant, unwilling to embrace what her soul yearned for the most, she rebelled and tested the limits of her patron. But Ms. Masters was patient, delivering gentle encouragement as much as cruel discipline; a soft word or the bitter sting of her hand, both delivered with the same love, establishing structure amidst the chaos of Kelly's life.

Now, the old Kelly is gone, and in her place is the perfect pet, an obedient slave who strives to express her adoration for her Mistress in everything she does, in pleasure or pain, in the endless pursuit of submission.

And the new Kelly knows what her old self never would have believed - good girls kneel, and being a good girl is the most important thing of all.

Oh wow! You empower me Ella! your ability in picturing the thoughts that's inside the minds of every domme and sub with such details is just wonderful. :rose::rose:
 
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“Shh, baby, lie back, don’t say anything. After all, we wouldn’t want anyone to find out about us, would we? We wouldn’t want anyone to find me with my hand down here, sliding between your legs, pushing apart your thighs, slipping my fingers into your little white panties. What would your mom think if she knew you’d invited her best friend to your room, if she knew that you’d let her best friend touch you here, or even here… Oh, baby, you like that do you? Promise me that you’ll remain perfectly quiet and perfectly still and I’ll show you what else I can do with my fingers.“
 
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“Shh, baby, lie back, don’t say anything. After all, we wouldn’t want anyone to find out about us, would we? We wouldn’t want anyone to find me with my hand down here, sliding between your legs, pushing apart your thighs, slipping my fingers into your little white panties. What would your mom think if she knew you’d invited her best friend to your room, if she knew that you’d let her best friend touch you here, or even here… Oh, baby, you like that do you? Promise me that you’ll remain perfectly quiet and perfectly still and I’ll show you what else I can do with my fingers.“

:heart:
 
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