Getting Off at My Book Club Read online

  Getting Off at My Book Club

  Lesbian Explorative Erotica

  By Elle Nicolette

  I straightened my red and white striped Anthropologie apron over my yellow cotton tank top while I clicked my tongue and laughed at myself, or rather, at my billowy breasts, “Oh good God, ladies. Come on! Can’t you ever stay covered?”

  I took a sip of my glass of Cabernet wine, the remainder sitting in a decanter waiting for my eager book club members to taste of its spectacular velvet richness.

  Oh, my breasts.

  Even while wearing an apron designed to cover one’s entire front side keeping clothes spotless from cooking remnants—splatters of oil, marinara sauce, cupcake batter— it was pretty much impossible to have my busty breasts saved from anything splattering from the stove. Having been a full D cup since junior high thanks to my curvy Italian family lineage, I’ve been blessed with the curves early on. Yet not so blessed when it came to cooking, as the open skin could be quite a cooking hazard whenever dealing with hot oils on the stove.

  I reached for a dish towel and stuffed it in my tank top to cover my chest. I was cooking with hot olive oil and butter as I sautéed fresh garlic, diced tomatoes and onions while my home made freshly covered buttered bread grew crisp and hot in the broiler—the perfect combination when combined and sprinkled with a bit of fresh mozzarella cheese created a heavenly sensation dancing on one’s tongue—Bruschetta.

  I sampled the simmering concoction before placing the wooden spatula back on my turquoise holder. I dramatically kissed my fingers like only we Italians can—“Perfecto!”

  Nate King Cole sang warm melodies filling my home with greater joy. I loved book club and making my members feel like they were stepping into a safe haven, a home. And I truly loved making my home a home. I loved being at home, which was really starting to create an ache in me for that “special someone”, one that I had not realized was as strong until now.

  I thoughtfully surveyed my West Hollywood Hills bungalow as I stirred the Bruschetta mixture. Dozens of candles were lit, fresh roses in white cream French country pottery, my home screamed comfort. I had everything I’d ever wanted or dreamt of. My life was so full, yet there was one part still missing.

  A lover.

  A companion.

  A friend, an intimate friend.

  Studying hard in my twenties to obtain my masters in English Literature was no small feat, but attempting to write my dissertation as I received my PHD, well, my social life went out the window except for the saving grace of my book club. I was a busy bee, not to mention the freelance writing I did on the side to pay the bills, in addition to publishing essays, which provided a handsome salary for me while I was in school. It was one that did so well, I was able to purchase my first home, this adorable 1920’s two bedroom, and one bathroom bungalow with a small yard in the back. I converted the back yard into a rose and vegetable garden. It’s my favorite place to go and read and sip tea.

  Naturally introverted and shy, the last time I had a boyfriend was in college. He was my first and my only. I really liked the sex but he was inexperienced and not like anything I’d read about in the heaping pages of passion in my erotic romance books. Good God the heroines in the lusty pages of passion were so lucky and I longed to be them!

  I live for romance books, imagining to be the lucky woman in love, but lately the need for real human touch—beyond the touch of artificial devices, ahem, vibrators— to connect with another person in that special way has begun to get the best of me. It has become all I can think about day and night.

  As I read the pages filled with hot passion and my pussy gets all heated, thumping intensely begging for a loving or heck, even a rough touch, my aching nipples harden, and I’m left to bring myself to release, all the while feeling that excitement and longing desire of connection so strong I’m about to have to just go pick up a stranger, although that goes totally against my character.

  Sure, I could go out to a bar and meet a stranger this very night, but I don’t want to be just another piece of meat to a man who can't stop eyeing my breasts at a bar, with the fate of ultimately becoming a nameless body forgotten in the aftermath of his morning. I would no doubt feel connected far more than just for a day. I’m not built for one night stands. It’s clearly obvious I’m not created for that type of bump in the night activity, although sometimes I wish I could be a sassy and wild as some of the modern female leads in the modern books I read.

  I want to be loved for real. Pursued. Touched. Kissed. Explored.

  Down there.

  God.

  Sometimes I felt people identify me as—Meg—the curvy gal who cooks kick ass food with the big tits. Textbook Italian housewife material, on paper, but off paper, none of this is coming true. Aside from my bi monthly book club I host, like the one tonight, normally nights like these would be filled with glasses of wine, yummy treats, Gigi my cat curled up on my lap and a good book.

  I sighed as I took the sliced toasted bread out of the oven. They smelled heavenly and were that beautiful golden toast color.

  “Gorgeous.”

  I spooned a good heaping size of bruschetta mixture on the sliced toast and placed a few sprinkles of cheese before popping them back in for one minute to broil one last time.

  When was the last time I was even kissed?

  Gosh jolly is if a full moon of passion outside or what? Gigi, my black cat, meowed at me in concern.

  "Oh I'm fine princess. Just tired of waiting for my prince. I wonder if he may never come. Then what?"

  I retrieved the bruschetta out of the oven and placed them on a serving platter. I brought the platter into the sitting room as well as the remainder glasses of wine for my four friends.

  And just like clockwork my friends arrived at 7:30pm and my house was filled with love and laughter. Lindsey and Shannon were the first to arrive. They knew the drill and formalities were so three years ago with us. They easily helped themselves to wine as they let off steam and chatted about their day.

  Kendall dragged in and informed us all that Lucia was running five minutes late and was bringing a friend, a newbie.

  Hmmm…normally, I am officially informed of new participants since I after all am host. But oh well. Kendall was a very accomplished friend of mine, an attorney with a good mind between her strong petite yoga used shoulders.

  Finally, the doorbell rang and I opened the door to Kendall’s beaming face. “Hi Meg! I’m so sorry I’m late! This is, Kelly, my friend I met in yoga. She’s new and moved here from Seattle. I thought she could use some new friends!” She winked at Kelly. Kelly smiled almost mischievously, her pearly white teeth encased with shimmery bronzed lips, her cheeks peachy with bronzer, but not the overdone way, the way in which implicated she knew how to apply her make up like a pro. She wore a white fitted tank, short tan shorts, and those flat gladiator sandals that wrapped all the way up tanned calves. She looked like a Greek Goddess!

  She was tall and lean like a model. I instantly thought she must be here looking for work, since it’s hello, L.A.!

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Kelly! And goodness, would you look at you? You look like a model!”

  She shook my hand with a pleasant smile.

  “Oh, that’s because she totally is! And an actress,” Kendall announced.

  Clearly!

  “Well, how lovely! Well, come on in, Kelly. Make yourself welcome in my home. I’m not sure if you’ve read the book we are discussing but—”

  “Oh, I have. I love to read. I read all the time while I wait for my scene or when I’m on set getting my hair and make up done. I read the book your discussing while I was in Tahiti actually on location.”

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nbsp; “Tahiti! How dreamy!” Shannon chimed in. “Would you like wine, Kelly?” She offered.

  “Oh please! Yes, it’s gorgeous. I still can’t believe it’s my job to visit gorgeous locales and wear pretty much couture.”

  I heard her say as I retrieved another wine glass.

  “Gosh, that sounded totally lame. Sorry, I promise this is not coming from a place of bragging, just of total honest complete gratitude!”

  “Oh yeah!”

  “You’re so sweet!

  “Totally!”

  We all chimed in as we made her feel comfortable in our group.

  “Well, since Kelly is new, why don’t we all introduce ourselves briefly?”

  After the brief round of introductions and after everyone had a few pieces of my food, we were already on our second glasses of wine and feeling oh so lose and free.

  The discussion was going rather well until Kelly’s words made me feel as if I had been injected with adrenaline or shocked with a light dose of electricity.

  “I personally just loved the description of how he made Cassandra feel right next to the sizzling fire.”

  Oh gosh, I remember that scene. I had read that scene at least three times!

  “The way she said his fat tongue warmed her kitten making her purr and beg to roar, among other descriptions. I just really loved that.”

  Was it hot in here, or was it just I?

  We all took a moment of silence obviously reminiscing the very, extremely explicit erotic scene of a man in love with his woman, and showing his love through, well, by making love to her lady lips.

  Goodness, I recrossed my legs thinking about it, I could feel the heat and moistness growing in my aching mound.

  “I mean, it made me feel as if I were right there feeling every juicy soft lap of…oh, I’m sorry! I think it’s the wine. I’m a lightweight!”

  “No, no you are right.” Kendall came to her rescue. “I mean, I’ve had my fair share of erotic reads, Fifty Shades of Grey, Bared to You, what not, but that scene, well, that scene was very um, memorable.”

  “Here. Here.” Lindsey raised her wine glass and we all toasted, while we each blushed with giggles.

  “I’m sorry, I should also mention Kelly here swims in the lady pond.” Kendall blurted out.

  “Ugh! Are we not a progressive bunch here? Come on, we know every lady in suburbia to the city to the farms has read Fifty Shades of Grey. That was mild compared to what we read. And just because I may fancy ladies does not mean we can’t all appreciate the receiving of love, down there.”

  You could hear a pen drop across my bamboo floor, or the sizzling of the fire if there was one.

  “Who wants more wine?” I interrupted. I didn’t mean to but I was beginning to feel myself getting a bit well, irritated. Sexually frustrated, I guess. I had my vibrator in my room but it had been forever since someone so eloquently explored me down there. With a real life tongue and wet gentle lips.

  I fetched more wine as I tried to clear my head while my eager friends asked our new friend how long she’s been a lesbian.

  “Oh, hmmmm I guess for a while now.”

  “So your bi?”

  “I haven’t dated a man in almost a decade.”

  “Oh, same as me.” Our eyes locked as I poured more wine into Kelly’s glass.

  “Oh really? Are you swimming in the same pond as I?”

  I snickered as I poured new wine into the remaining empty glasses. “That’s funny! But no, I’ve just…been busy and well, frankly, yeah, busy.”

  An hour later book club was over and we all had places to be, except well for me. Some had a late night date, others errands to get ready for the weekend. It was a steamy book club night for sure and we all agreed on something milder and more literary for next month, all tongue in cheek, of course.

  Everyone had a place to be except Kelly who lingered, her long lean legs crossed as she sat on my white sofa. I secretly prayed she would not spill a drop of red wine, yet she didn’t strike me as the clumsy type at all.

  “Soooo…. Meg, come sit down with me! You clearly are an incredible hostess. Come relax and tell me why you haven’t dated in a decade. I’m a stranger practically. You can tell me anything and I won’t judge you.”

  Her light brown eyes sparkled at me. The shimmery eye shadow swept across her lids made her puppy eyes dance. No wonder why she was a model. She felt so warm, too. And inviting. I felt like I could trust her. I plopped down on my favorite chair and poured more wine into my glass.

  “How much time do you have?” I teased.

  “All the time in the world.” Something about her tone alluded to the fact that she wasn’t joking.

  “Well, like I mentioned. I’ve been busy with my studies and completing my PHD. Oh, and reading. I love to read.”

  “But no man? In all this time?”

  “I’m actually very shy. And the men here, well you know how L.A. men can be? Oh wait, I forgot you just moved here.”

  “No, I get you. It’s the industry.”

  “I think books ruined me. But I’m still waiting for my Mr. Darcy who will appreciate who I am on the inside.”

  “Hmmmm…I definitely understand that. I say, don’t settle. He’s out there. Everyone deserves love and to be loved for whom they are on the inside. You’re a very beautiful woman. Gals kills for curves like yours, that or spend lots of money on surgery.”

  Her smile warmed my heart. It was the sweetest thing to say!

  “Awww…you really are a sweetheart you know that?”

  “Well, I’m serious.”

  Her eyes narrowed in on me and I felt a strange sensation growing between us.

  “Listen, I don’t want to come across too strong, but well, I couldn’t help but to notice that you seemed a big, agitated when we spoke of that one scene. How long has it been since you know…?” The look said it all.

  “How long has it been since I’ve been licked in the twat? You can say it.”

  “Okay, Meg. How long has it been since you’ve been licked in the twat?”

  “Since college.”

  “How many boyfriends.”

  “Just one.”

  “Just one!”

  I nodded and sipped more wine, feeling tipsy and hazy.

  “Haven’t you been just a teensy curious of how it would feel for someone as experienced as the men you read about in your books to, you know, tickle your fancy?”

  “Only every other hour!”

  She set her wine down on the table, the light clank sounding louder than it was. My heart rate was rising and my pussy clenched in desire.

  “Well, this may seem, I don’t know, strange, but I rather enjoy licking pussy. I could lick yours tonight. It wouldn’t mean we were, you know lovers. It doesn’t even have to be romantic. It could be like, you know, a spa treatment for you aching pussy.”

  “Your joking right?”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  My pussy ached so hard, it was hard to think. It was hard to reason. Here this gorgeous model who no doubt really knew how to get someone off, just offered to explore my untouched flower.

  “Ummm…”

  “You can say no. It won’t offend me. But you can say yes and I promise it will be as if nothing happened. But, I promise you, I will make you see stars.”

  My lips quivered and my cheeks flushed. And before I knew it, her hand was leading me into my bedroom.

  “Just relaaaaaax baby. I’m going to make you see stars.”

  “Um…okay.”

  “And this…this does not make you a lesbian. In fact, if it makes you feel better, I won’t even kiss you. Does that sound okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Just lay back and pretend you’re getting a nice relaxing massage. A pedicure.”

  This sent riffles of laughter through my body as I covered my belly, “Oh God! A pedicure!”

  “A pedicure. But better. Here, why don’t you just cover your eyes? Just feel the sensation.”
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  “Are you sure about this?”

  I covered my eyes with a soft faux cover. I loved the way it felt against my skin.

  “Honey, you’re wound tighter than a Christmas bow tied by an A type housewife. It would be my pleasure to see you relax. After all, orgasm is God’s gift to us women.”

  I sighed and covered my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to engage in this. But I was tipsy drunk and horny as hell.

  I felt my panties being slide down my sides and felt the last bit of the lace scrap over my toes. And wala. There I was. Bare. Well, sans my dress that felt to be above my waist.

  “You have a beautiful flower.”

  “Oh my God!” I threw off my cover.

  “Sorry! But you do! Now cover your face back up.”

  My pussy throbbed in cursioutity of the forthcoming sensations that would “make me see stars”, as she said. My heart rate elevated and I nearly quivered at the first peeking touch of her light tongue against the hood of my clit.

  “Oh God!”

  I instantly cried out in a soft moan as she twirled my nob just lightly before softly and slowly, licking carefully down to the opening of my inner walls. My hips instantly bucked and my inner walls clenched in pleasure.

  I cried out as I felt her soft thumb pads trace all the way up my labia, holding my slick walls back as her soft tongue pressed deeper into me, making me feel chills up and down my spine, my arms and leg. Naturally my leg responded as I lifted my foot off the bed and back down in a stomp. My hips slowly rolling into her hot mouth. I wanted more. I wanted more. This felt so damn good.

  “Shhhhhh…. relax.” Her hand was on my lower abs. I could feel they were tight. “Breathe and just relax. Don’t tense. It’ll last longer this way.”

  “Okay…” I was breathless.

  She trailed her tongue all the way around my labia teasing me this time. Up up up, and just before she reached the hood of my clit, she swiped just below and traced the other side. She did this again drawing her tongue all the way down now to my juicy opening, her thumbs still keeping my lips partly opened giving her greater access to my clit. A good move I realized. I had never been licked like this before. She knew what she was doing and she took her sweet slow time, treating my pussy like it was a delicacy.