Just dessert

This good sex story, excerpted from the lesbian erotic fiction Taste of Sin by Fiona Zedde, is published with permission.

Hotter>10 minsAdult FFContemporary
Erotic lesbian sex story excerpt from Fiona Zedde Taste Of Sin

Anticipation slowly uncurled like a fanged snake in Dez’s belly as the evening progressed. She didn’t want to eat, at least not food. Victoria’s face captured her attention and held it. The full curve of her mouth, her throat moving as she swallowed her food, the nervous fire in her eyes. Dez couldn’t remember being this anxious to have a woman, to have anything.

When the waiter came back, she ordered wine for them both, toasting Victoria’s beauty and her good judgment in saying yes to Dez’s proposition.

She wanted her to say yes again, say it later when she had the soft woman spread out under her on the bed, when she had those legs in the air, those thighs clasped around her ears. She forced herself to calm down. At this rate she wouldn’t last more than five minutes in Victoria’s bedroom. She felt like a horny teenaged boy. With a hand that shook, she lifted her glass of wine.

When their dinner came, she couldn’t eat. But Victoria didn’t have that problem.

“You really enjoy your food, don’t you?” She tipped her chin at Victoria’s dwindling plate of pasta. Just keep talking. If I keep talking, I won’t think so much about fucking. Victoria licked a spot of Alfredo sauce from her bottom lip and Dez clenched inside her jeans.

“Yes.” Victoria looked suddenly bashful. “I told a lie the other day when I said that I liked to cook more than I like to eat.”

Dez’s raised eyebrow begged her to continue, anything to keep her from thinking about licking a different kind of moisture from a different set of lips.

“I like both. Very much.”

“Ah. I never would have guessed.”

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Victoria blushed and smiled when it became obvious that Dez wasn’t making fun of her appetite, was in fact pleased by it. Very pleased.

After the main course was finished, they ordered dessert to share. Two forks and tiramisu. Victoria’s preference. She ate while Dez, the happy voyeur, watched and took only occasional bites of the rich and creamy cake. While they talked, Victoria gestured with her fork, tapping it against her mouth, pointing it in the air, but always licking it clean after each bite of the tiramisu. Her lipstick was long gone and her mouth shining wet and slightly pink in the dim, low-hanging light when Victoria pushed the half-finished dessert away with a sigh of deep satisfaction. Dez reached for her cigarettes.

“Mind if I smoke?” She was already taking one from the pack.

“Yes, I do.” Victoria leaned across the table. “You have to know that smoking—no matter how expensive the tobacco” — she made a dismissive gesture at the slim green box— “is not good for you.”

“I do, but I like smoking.” But she put the cigarettes away.

“There are much better things to put in your mouth,” Victoria said.

“I wouldn’t deny that.” Whatever game this was, she liked it already. “But this is all I have right now.”

Victoria dipped a finger in the remains of the tiramisu that sat between them. “Here,” she said and leaned across the table toward her dinner companion.

Intrigued and suddenly in desperate need of a fix that had nothing to do with nicotine, Dez pushed her wineglass aside to brace one arm against the table. She opened her mouth. Before the finger could touch her lips, her tongue snaked out to lick its underside.

She pretended not to hear Victoria’s quick intake of breath.

Her tongue curled around that finger, licking catlike at the sticky crumbs before pulling the digit into her mouth. Unseen, her tongue worked vicious magic, dipping into the flesh between Victoria’s fingers then retreated, only to begin a suggestive suck and release motion. The crotch of her briefs was wet. But that happened the moment she saw Victoria get out of the truck and begin her slow ascent up the restaurant steps. Now it was much worse. She was soaking in her own juices, legs splayed wide under the table, and the seam of her pants tight against her clit.

“Do you want to continue this elsewhere?” Breathless anticipation made Victoria’s question a demand.

“No.” Dez released the finger and sat back in her chair. “I would have enjoyed my cigarette here. Why not this?” Her voice deepened. “Come closer.”

Victoria started to lean across the table again but Dez shook her head. “Here, next to me.”

Their table was intimately placed, blocked from most of the restaurant by several large plants, but they weren’t completely hidden from view.

Thankfully, Victoria didn’t seem to care. “Where do you want me?”

“It doesn’t matter. I work well with both hands.”

And she wanted them both on this woman right now. She wanted to feel the slide of her wet pussy, to curl inside Victoria and hear her gasp. When the chair moved next to hers, she sighed with anticipation. Under the cover of the tablecloth, she started to lift Victoria’s skirt.

“May I?” Dez asked.

“Please…” Victoria’s voice trembled. “Please do.”

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That was all she needed. Dez traced a finger along the smooth skin of her thigh, lifting the skirt as she went. “I would rather have your pussy as a second dessert.” Her fingers found the damp crotch of silk panties. “But this will have to do for now.”

A low moan came from Victoria’s throat when Dez touched her.

“Remember, you can’t be too loud. We are in a public place after all.”

Then she proceeded to test Victoria’s self-control.

Dez would have liked to see Victoria’s breasts, the hardening nipples with the pucker of raisins, the imagined taste of sweet milk. With a quick flick of her fingers, Victoria loosened the first button of her blouse, then a second. Dez held her breath and slowed the downward stroke of her fingers. A third button, then the silk bra with its lush weight teased Dez’s eyes and brought sudden moisture to her mouth. She unconsciously leaned forward and bit her lip.

Now it was Victoria’s turn to laugh. “We’re in a public place, remember?”

The last word was barely whispered before Dez’s fingers continued their dance. They slid between the slick petals, around her clit, alternatively stroking and pushing until Victoria’s breath came in little gasps. Her hand clutched the white tablecloth and spilled the rest of Dez’s water into the unfinished dessert, sending the glass rolling from the table to the rug on the floor. They both ignored it. Victoria’s thigh, pressed alongside Dez’s, began to shake.

“Uh uh. It won’t be that easy.” She slowed her strokes then pulled back until her fingers were barely touching Victoria.

“What?” The trembling at her thigh gradually faded as Victoria opened her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Dez didn’t know. She had every intention of teasing, of bringing Victoria to the very edge, then pull back just before she could fall over. But those bowed lips were pussy-wet, teeth marked from her self-control. And she didn’t look happy. Neither would I, Dez thought. She reached out again and whispered something she hadn’t said to anyone else in a long time.

“I’m sorry.”

Victoria came all over her hand, dripping come into the crevice between each of Dez’s fingers, even splashing the prominent veins in Dez’s wrist. At the last moment, Victoria bent into her and bit into the soft skin where her neck and shoulder met in an effort to stifle her moans. “Thank you,” she muttered hoarsely when she could, then straightened in her chair.

“You’re welcome.” Dez didn’t try to disguise the tremor in her own voice.

Victoria sat, dreamy-eyed in her chair, mouth full and passion-bitten, her blouse still unbuttoned to allow a glimpse of sweat-dampened cleavage.

Dez dropped money on the table for a check that hadn’t come yet.

“Are you ready?” Desire clawed under her skin. She didn’t want to play games, didn’t want to force Victoria to admit who was running the fuck. Her old impulses had resurfaced, then, thankfully, died a quick death. Beside her, Victoria blinked and nodded slowly. She cleared her throat.

They were silent as they stood on the curb waiting for the valet to bring Dez’s truck around. Silence reigned still as they drove through the nighttime glitter of South Beach, past the midweek partiers, the beautiful people on their way to the next beautiful place. In Victoria’s driveway, Dez set the alarm on the truck and walked her date up the cobblestoned walkway.

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“It’s been an interesting evening,” Victoria said. She stopped Dez at the door. Her eyes were no longer dreamy and unfocused.

“I know what you were doing tonight and I didn’t like it.” The awareness that the night wasn’t going to end where she wanted it, where she hoped it would, settled into Dez like a lead weight.

“I want you, but not like this.” At Dez’s silent look, she continued. “I won’t play power games and I certainly won’t play by your rules.” She put her key in the door and turned it. The look she leveled on Dez clearly said she was not invited in. “Besides I have to be at work early tomorrow. This thing we’re doing is about pleasure. Mutual pleasure. I think you’ve had your fun for the night. Call me tomorrow.”

And for the second time in their short acquaintance, she closed her door in Dez’s face.

*

Begging for more? You can buy Taste of Sin here.

Fiona Zedde was born under the Jamaican sun but now makes her home in Spain. Since getting the writing bug, she’s published about thirty books and short stories, mostly of black lesbian romance, including the Lambda Literary Award finalists, Bliss and Every Dark Desire. Her novel, Dangerous Pleasures, received a Publishers Weekly starred review and was winner of an About.com Readers’ Choice Award for Best Lesbian Novel or Memoir.

At this very second, she’s probably writing another book, and it has 100% chance of having queer romance and queer women in it. Her pseudo-healthy obsessions are French pastries, English cars, and Jamaican food.

Her latest novel, A Lover’s Mercy, is available now. You can follow her on Twitter Facebook and Instagram or give her five stars on Goodreads.

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