We're partnering with erotica author and expert Rachel Kramer Bussel to bring you steamy stories written by women. Enjoy the selection below, and head to the collection to discover even more.
From To Italy with Love by Fiona Zedde.
“Show me your room.” It was Chrisanne’s voice that did it. Low and urgent with heat, it made Iris’ panties pull tight against her moistening flesh. But even though Chrisanne demanded to see her room, she pushed into Iris’ hips with her own. Iris whimpered at the press of her stiffening dick between them. She blindly reached for Chrisanne and slotted their mouths together. Twin groans filled the kitchen. “I missed the way you taste,” she gasped into Chrisanne’s mouth. It was more the way she kissed, an all-in sensuous dance of tongue and lips, her mouth latching on to Iris’ like there was no other sustenance she needed. A hot and sweet sucking on her tongue while her hands roamed over Iris’ back and low on her hips, pressing them urgently together. Chrisanne pulled back. “If you don’t want me to get pussy juice all over your kitchen counter, you need to show me to your room, now.” But Chrisanne was already moving them back, guiding Iris toward where she guessed the bedroom was. Her guess was good enough, so Iris closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of that hot mouth on hers, the firm pressure of Chrisanne’s thumbs tilting up her jaw so she could nibble and suck her neck. Iris shivered, then winced when her shoulder hit a doorway. Her eyes flew open. Yes, the bedroom…this way.
She guided Chrisanne past the guest bathroom and to the bedroom. She scrabbled backward with her hand for the door handle, turned it, and pushed it open. Chrisanne stopped dead. “Where is your bed?” Fuck.
In the rush of all the blood in her body flooding south, she forgot about the lack of an actual bed in her bedroom. Since Jasmyn left and took her bed — she’d called to curse her out and demand it back — she’d been sleeping on a pile of comforters in the middle of room. But that didn’t matter now. “My ex.” Iris squeezed Chrisanne’s breasts through her tank top. “She took it.” “Fuck her then.” “No.” She fumbled with the buttons of Chrisanne’s jeans. “You fuck me.” “You’re so corny.” But she seemed very much on board with that plan, yanking down the zipper of Iris’ dress and pulling it off to toss it carelessly aside. “Shit.” Chrisanne stepped back. “I actually forgot how beautiful you were.” She stared at Iris’ body, on display in (thankfully) matching bra and panties. Iris was soaking wet and desperate to get her mouth all over Chrisanne. She yanked down her own panties and got rid of her bra. “Stop telling me and show me.” “Fuck, you’re bossy.” But luckily, Chrisanne followed orders well. Once they were in the pile of blankets on the floor, Iris took control. It had been so long since she’d been with a woman who wanted all of her. She quickly peeled off Chrisanne’s clothes and pressed her down into the blankets, planting kisses over every inch of her she could reach. Chrisanne smelled like that same perfume she wore in Italy, and of lemons and desire. Iris licked and bit her all over, making up for the days she’d been without. She inhaled her, pressed her nose into the small creases, sucked her fingers, drank the sweat from her skin. When she couldn’t wait any longer, she lifted her mouth from Chrisanne’s breasts. “I want to taste you,” she said. “Can I?” "Yes!" Chrisanne gasped. “God, yes.” Iris made her slow way down the writhing body, pausing to kiss and stroke the curve of her belly, her sharp hipbones, the silken skin on the inside of her thighs. She felt so fucking good... When they’d fucked in Italy, Iris thought the magic of that night had been due to the wedding and the sounds of the night, the violin, and the faint rush of the sea coming in through the windows. But she felt the same sense of wonder now, her entire self focused on Chrisanne’s pleasure, her body burning with a need to satisfy, even as her pussy was slick with arousal and her dick was hard enough to pound through steel. She pressed her hips into the blankets to relieve some of her own ache, an unconscious movement that she intensified once she realized she was doing it. They both groaned at the first stroke of her tongue on Chrisanne’s pussy. A deep and shuddering connection clicked between them. “Jesus...I think you’re trying to kill me," Chrisanne’s hand dropped away from her head to clench in the blankets. Her slick pussy lips were meaty and hot under Iris’ tongue, sliding wet and humid, tasting of sex and everything good Iris had ever had. She pressed Chrisanne’s thighs open even wider, reached up to stroke her nipples and twist them while her mouth devoured and sucked and licked. Iris pushed her hips into the blankets, fucking into the firmness under her while she fucked Chrisanne with her tongue. “You’re so good to me...” Chrisanne whispered, bucking up so hard that Iris had to brace an arm across her hips to hold her down. With her mouth lavishing Chrisanne’s clit, Iris stroked her entrance with light fingers. Her pussy opened up for her, slick and greedy. Iris licked the soft pink flesh to prepare her, then slid in two fingers, curled them up. “Oh!” Chrisanne propped herself up on her elbow, staring at Iris. “More,” she begged, her eyes heavy-lidded, her mouth swollen. “Give me more.” Iris gave her another finger, stroking deep in her hot pussy, the slick sound of the fuck washing over her ears, grinding her hips into the sheets. “Yes...” Chrisanne moaned and dropped back into the blankets. “You’re so fucking perfect.” She gasped again. “So perfect..." She fucked Chrisanne deep and slow with three fingers until the muscles of her arm burned with the effort and sweat dripped down her face, down her spine. God, she loved this. She loved how Chrisanne’s face twisted, her look becoming desperate with each thrust of Iris’ fingers and every flick of her tongue on her clit. Even with her mouth full and her hands occupied, Iris kept her eyes on Chrisanne’s face, wanting to see every play of lust there. There was so much beauty. So much! The muscles of Iris’ pussy jerked tight. “Fu—!” She grunted as an unexpected orgasm burned through her own body. The rhythm of her fingers stuttered but she kept going. Her eyes slammed shut and her hips bucked into the blankets the same time she felt a clenching around her fingers. Chrisanne stiffened all over and cried out. “Fuck! Iris...Fuck..." They shuddered together, pleasure rippling between their bodies in a feedback loop until Chrisanne collapsed into the sheets, laughing through the last of her orgasm. “Glad I could make you happy.” Iris panted. Slowly, she pulled her fingers back from Chrisanne’s pussy and flopped onto her back. “I didn’t doubt you would.” Chrisanne whimpered and followed her across the sheets, draping her body on top of Iris’, kissing her, breathing hard against her parted lips, her eyes still bright with a mixture of lust and satiation. Iris gladly swallowed her kisses.
“Show me your room.” It was Chrisanne’s voice that did it. Low and urgent with heat, it made Iris’ panties pull tight against her moistening flesh. But even though Chrisanne demanded to see her room, she pushed into Iris’ hips with her own. Iris whimpered at the press of her stiffening dick between them. She blindly reached for Chrisanne and slotted their mouths together. Twin groans filled the kitchen. “I missed the way you taste,” she gasped into Chrisanne’s mouth. It was more the way she kissed, an all-in sensuous dance of tongue and lips, her mouth latching on to Iris’ like there was no other sustenance she needed. A hot and sweet sucking on her tongue while her hands roamed over Iris’ back and low on her hips, pressing them urgently together. Chrisanne pulled back. “If you don’t want me to get pussy juice all over your kitchen counter, you need to show me to your room, now.” But Chrisanne was already moving them back, guiding Iris toward where she guessed the bedroom was. Her guess was good enough, so Iris closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of that hot mouth on hers, the firm pressure of Chrisanne’s thumbs tilting up her jaw so she could nibble and suck her neck. Iris shivered, then winced when her shoulder hit a doorway. Her eyes flew open. Yes, the bedroom…this way.
She guided Chrisanne past the guest bathroom and to the bedroom. She scrabbled backward with her hand for the door handle, turned it, and pushed it open. Chrisanne stopped dead. “Where is your bed?” Fuck.
In the rush of all the blood in her body flooding south, she forgot about the lack of an actual bed in her bedroom. Since Jasmyn left and took her bed — she’d called to curse her out and demand it back — she’d been sleeping on a pile of comforters in the middle of room. But that didn’t matter now. “My ex.” Iris squeezed Chrisanne’s breasts through her tank top. “She took it.” “Fuck her then.” “No.” She fumbled with the buttons of Chrisanne’s jeans. “You fuck me.” “You’re so corny.” But she seemed very much on board with that plan, yanking down the zipper of Iris’ dress and pulling it off to toss it carelessly aside. “Shit.” Chrisanne stepped back. “I actually forgot how beautiful you were.” She stared at Iris’ body, on display in (thankfully) matching bra and panties. Iris was soaking wet and desperate to get her mouth all over Chrisanne. She yanked down her own panties and got rid of her bra. “Stop telling me and show me.” “Fuck, you’re bossy.” But luckily, Chrisanne followed orders well. Once they were in the pile of blankets on the floor, Iris took control. It had been so long since she’d been with a woman who wanted all of her. She quickly peeled off Chrisanne’s clothes and pressed her down into the blankets, planting kisses over every inch of her she could reach. Chrisanne smelled like that same perfume she wore in Italy, and of lemons and desire. Iris licked and bit her all over, making up for the days she’d been without. She inhaled her, pressed her nose into the small creases, sucked her fingers, drank the sweat from her skin. When she couldn’t wait any longer, she lifted her mouth from Chrisanne’s breasts. “I want to taste you,” she said. “Can I?” "Yes!" Chrisanne gasped. “God, yes.” Iris made her slow way down the writhing body, pausing to kiss and stroke the curve of her belly, her sharp hipbones, the silken skin on the inside of her thighs. She felt so fucking good... When they’d fucked in Italy, Iris thought the magic of that night had been due to the wedding and the sounds of the night, the violin, and the faint rush of the sea coming in through the windows. But she felt the same sense of wonder now, her entire self focused on Chrisanne’s pleasure, her body burning with a need to satisfy, even as her pussy was slick with arousal and her dick was hard enough to pound through steel. She pressed her hips into the blankets to relieve some of her own ache, an unconscious movement that she intensified once she realized she was doing it. They both groaned at the first stroke of her tongue on Chrisanne’s pussy. A deep and shuddering connection clicked between them. “Jesus...I think you’re trying to kill me," Chrisanne’s hand dropped away from her head to clench in the blankets. Her slick pussy lips were meaty and hot under Iris’ tongue, sliding wet and humid, tasting of sex and everything good Iris had ever had. She pressed Chrisanne’s thighs open even wider, reached up to stroke her nipples and twist them while her mouth devoured and sucked and licked. Iris pushed her hips into the blankets, fucking into the firmness under her while she fucked Chrisanne with her tongue. “You’re so good to me...” Chrisanne whispered, bucking up so hard that Iris had to brace an arm across her hips to hold her down. With her mouth lavishing Chrisanne’s clit, Iris stroked her entrance with light fingers. Her pussy opened up for her, slick and greedy. Iris licked the soft pink flesh to prepare her, then slid in two fingers, curled them up. “Oh!” Chrisanne propped herself up on her elbow, staring at Iris. “More,” she begged, her eyes heavy-lidded, her mouth swollen. “Give me more.” Iris gave her another finger, stroking deep in her hot pussy, the slick sound of the fuck washing over her ears, grinding her hips into the sheets. “Yes...” Chrisanne moaned and dropped back into the blankets. “You’re so fucking perfect.” She gasped again. “So perfect..." She fucked Chrisanne deep and slow with three fingers until the muscles of her arm burned with the effort and sweat dripped down her face, down her spine. God, she loved this. She loved how Chrisanne’s face twisted, her look becoming desperate with each thrust of Iris’ fingers and every flick of her tongue on her clit. Even with her mouth full and her hands occupied, Iris kept her eyes on Chrisanne’s face, wanting to see every play of lust there. There was so much beauty. So much! The muscles of Iris’ pussy jerked tight. “Fu—!” She grunted as an unexpected orgasm burned through her own body. The rhythm of her fingers stuttered but she kept going. Her eyes slammed shut and her hips bucked into the blankets the same time she felt a clenching around her fingers. Chrisanne stiffened all over and cried out. “Fuck! Iris...Fuck..." They shuddered together, pleasure rippling between their bodies in a feedback loop until Chrisanne collapsed into the sheets, laughing through the last of her orgasm. “Glad I could make you happy.” Iris panted. Slowly, she pulled her fingers back from Chrisanne’s pussy and flopped onto her back. “I didn’t doubt you would.” Chrisanne whimpered and followed her across the sheets, draping her body on top of Iris’, kissing her, breathing hard against her parted lips, her eyes still bright with a mixture of lust and satiation. Iris gladly swallowed her kisses.