Random LGBT STORIES

"Cheers," we both say at the same time, our glasses clinking together.

Katy thirstily downs another rum n coke, successfully getting it in her mouth this time.

She had chucked half the last glass down her top whilst she was dancing, she had been so busy gyrating her hɨps to the pounding music that she hadn't noticed that she had completely soaked herself.

And I was so busy watching those hɨps, that I didn't notice either. Until I saw her nɨppŀės, pert and wet, Poking through her shirt.

We burst out laughing, her cheek flushed a bit, she looked awkward and horny in similar amounts. She then grinned mischievously at me before chucking her wet shirt to the ground. Hence why she was sitting here in just her yellow wellies, with her tɨts out, toasting marshmallows.

I can't say that I'm complaining though, quite the opposite in fact—I'm very happy to admire her divine nɨppŀės.

She has such beautiful brėȧsts, I had always imagined that they would be, but hadn't banked on them being quite so heavenly.

Now it's starting to get colder and her nɨppŀės are becoming even more magnificent.

This camping trip away has started to feel more and more like a good idea.

The chemistry between us is really beginning to ignite, just like the campfire.

Things had been heating up for quite some time now, and that energetic delicious feeling of buŧŧerflies in my stomach was increasing in pŀėȧsurė by the minute.

It all started a couple of months ago.

We had been chatting in the office about going to a festival for ages. Covid had been a real ċȯċk-block to having fun times like this and we had both just about had enough.

We went out after work to celebrate. It was such a fun night, we already had festival vibes running through our bodies, we were so ready for a party it was unbelievable.

We were in quite a packed club, people haven't been dancing for so long, there was so much pent-up energy in the room it was palpable.

On the dance floor, people's bodies were twisting and moving together, gyrating to the garage beats, their bodies almost like migrating birds, all moving together in rhythm to the music.

Our eyes met, as we were both in the throes of an epic tune. We'd been dancing for some time. I didn't want to leave but I was dying for a wazz.

"I'm just going to the loo," I mouthed.

"I'll come with you," Katy shouted over the din of the music.

We were both fairly sozzled on slippery nɨppŀės. .

We made it into the toilets, practically stumbling over each other, the slippery floors, as well as the slippery nɨppŀės, had something to do with that.

We were so close our bodies were almost touching, just for a second, our eyes met. I'm sure we could both feel it, I just knew deep down that she felt the same way, we very nearly started pashing.

It wasn't Darlene's fault necessarily, bad timing and the floor really was slippery, but had she not interrupted, I know that my mouth would be hungrily exploring Katy's by now.

And since that evening, the chemistry between us has just been growing, the banter getting flirtier, work has definitely become a more fun place to be.

We don't sit next to each other, but whenever we get an opportunity it seems we are magnetised towards each other.

We always seem to use the photocopy machine at the same time for example.

And of course at lunchtime, always well-timed and mostly alone. We meet in our little office kitchen, that magnetic feeling in my ċunt is potent.

My pussƴ always throbs as I watch her walk towards me, it makes me fumble ordinary tasks like putting bread in the toaster.

Damn, she is one fine woman. Her energy is so sovereign, as she walks down the corridor, she gives not a shade of shit what others think of her. I find that aspect of her so hot and very inspirational.

Having not long 'come out' it is all still feeling very new. And I love it. It is all so exciting and fresh and sėxy and smells good. Women's bodies smell so different to men's.

Like toasted marshmallows and campfire musk.

I'm drawn to the memory of a particular lunchtime, our bodies, once again in close contact.

"Hello you," she'd purred, flicking the kettle on with expert motion.

My ċŀɨt twanged at the thought of it being on the end of those fingers. I could practically feel her breath on my leg as she bent down to get the milk out of the little fridge.

I'm sure I turned white as her face got closer towards my crotch causing blood to rush to my ċunt.

I was so tempted to bury my hands in her hair, hike my skirt up around my waist, and pull her mouth towards my juicy wet pussƴ.

I was wearing stockings—it would have been horny as fuċk. I'm sure she could smell my love juice, she was so close.

This whole scene caused so much pŀėȧsurė to rush up my body that it practically made my legs buckle. Even now as I reminisce…

She took the milk from the fridge and turned around, looking slowly up my body, all the way. She reached my eyes and twinkled at me mischievously, it was as if she could read my mind, or perhaps, she was thinking the same.

"Cup of tea?" she'd asked innocently.

That was the day that we got the email about the festival being cancelled.

Covid had been such a ċȯċk-block to us partying and frolicking in a field now for too long!

I was determined to not let this stop us.

I knew that spending this time with Katy had to happen.

We both needed it.

So here we are.

Fast forward to 2 am. Saturday night, Somewhere on Hampstead heath.

You can picture it now.

A tent, complete with fairy lights and a big, comfy blow-up bed. No home comforts spared.

A raging campfire, sticky marshmallows, enough food to last for days. Just enough alcohol to loosen us up… and some.

I'm sitting next to the fire whilst Katy is dancing topless in her knickers and yellow wellies.

I think my mission has been very successful so far.

We might not be at a festival but it doesn't mean we can't party and enjoy each other.

Penetrating the marshmallows and dangling them over the fire, I tease the sweet flesh with the flames, watching the skin change colour.

I know I need to treat them with a tender touch. Too heavy-handed and they burn.

I pull it out the flame as it starts to caramelise… mmm.

Blowing seductively on the marshmallow, I wink at Katy.

"Check this out!" I squeal with glee as I nibble it deliciously.

Katy crouches down next to me, our arms brushing, our skin sparking with electricity.

She plonks herself down and starts to toast her own.

I shuffle over so she can get closer to the fire. My legs are getting really hot next to the flames anyway, but it's a good excuse to get nearer to her.

She hovers her marshmallow into the heat, flirting with the flames, the white skin turning a delicious shade of golden brown.

She hikes it out the flames and blows on it.

Giggling and laughing, she tries to eat it and covers her face in the stickiness.

The air practically crackles as I lean in and lick the sweet goo off her mouth.

I've been so hungry for this, fantasising about this moment for so long, my pussƴ reflects this build-up and is already wet and throbbing like the bass music.

She tastes so delicious.

"Fuck, that felt good."

Katy spits out her marshmallow, more molten sugar sticking to her cheeks.

"Help me!" She pleads dramatically.

No need for encouragement. I'm in there like a cat devouring its prey.

Passion runs through my body as my fingers wrap up in Katy's hair, pulling her head to one side, exposing her neck. I buzz hard as I start ŀɨċkɨnġ and nibbling the creamy sugar from her skin.

We tumble onto the blanket.

It's not just the sugar making me rush—her scent fills my senses, her soft skin on my lips makes my ċunt quiver and pulse.

I squeeze my legs together, pinching my ċŀɨt in between my thɨġhs as I had done so many times in my dreams.

I can feel the creaminess in between my legs and it is so good. The dėsɨrė to have her mouth wrapped around my ċunt drinking my juices is driving me wild.

It is so good to be under the stars, by the fire, tunes pumping, pussies throbbing.

We kiss. Hard, wet and hungry.

Our soft lips smash against each other's, clashing and smothering with passionate embraces.

My shirt opens exposing my brėȧsts as they pop out. They want to join the party—to be suċkėd and held and squeezed.

I push her back onto the blanket and move my way down her body, my hot tɨts pressing against hers, our bodies moving as one.

Our hearts are dancing in our ċhėsts next to each other, as we lie skin to skin, the pulsating and fluctuating energy between us dances like fireworks.

Her body moves beneath me, yearning for my touch—oh how long I've waited for this moment.

I breathe in with gratitude and satisfaction.

Once again, I'm all over her body, smothering her with licks and kisses, my passion flowing from every pore.

I run my hands up and down her smooth skin and she trembles under my touch.

Her peachy ȧss fits really well in my hand as I pull her towards me, so desperate to crush my ċunt onto hers, pulsating pŀėȧsurė ripples through me.

My breath becomes hot, erratic.

I move down her body, kissing her stomach, down that line of her groin, making her squirm harder.

Ripping her knickers off. I bury my face in between her legs. Covering myself in her juices, pussƴ ŀɨċkɨnġ the soft skin feels like velvet against my face, my lips kissing her pussƴ lips feels incredible.

My heart races, my pussƴ throbs, I've been waiting for this moment now it's here I can hardly believe it.

I clamp my mouth onto her exposed ċunt, and suck at her ċŀɨt as she wriggles, bucking into my face, pushing her hɨps up to meet me as I flick and ŀȧp ŀɨċkɨnġ at her delicious flower.

She starts to get really worked up, her breathing irregular. I don't want her to come too quickly, so I break away and inhale deeply.

Giggling and sighing, we make eye contact and her head falls back in pŀėȧsurė.

Taking my time, I slowly ŀȧp her ċunt like the cat who's got the cream—all over my face.

Flicking my tongue quickly and ŀɨċkɨnġ my fingers, I cover them in my saliva and slowly slide them into her pussƴ. Two fingers to begin with then more and more as her ċunt expands and contracts around them.

In and out I stab and point them upwards towards her G spot, in a ċum hither motion.

She moves up and down on my hand, which makes me even hornier.

Her warm ċum drips down my hand and her G spot feels like a Velvet buŧŧon—a magic pad that holds magical powers.

We kiss and make intense eye contact as I fuċk her harder and deeper.

Her G spot becomes engorged with blood and throbs against my touch. I widen my hand and take the pressure away, wanting to prolong her ȯrġȧsm. I change position, tugging at her lips, rolling my finger around her tight bud of an ȧsshole.

Everything is covered in her wet juices,

Everything is asking to be filled.

I plunge into her ċunt as she wriggles onto my hand, her muscles clamp down and spasm around my fingers and she pushes my head back down.

We 'cum clutch' hands tightly as I fuċk her with my face, as well as pumping my fist into her rubbing my lips backwards and forward and flicking my tongue, my eyes rolling in my head.

I sink my face into her again and again as she rides my hand. Pleasure makes her stretch her legs wide and I ŀȧp her slowly—savouring every delicious drop.

She pulls me to her ċhėst and I take her hint—sucking her brėȧst into my mouth, playing with her nɨppŀė as it hardens and puckers.

It's so horny pleasuring Katy, I knew it would be. My knickers are totally soaked with my love juices.

I stick my ȧss further into the air as my G string bites into my pussƴ beautifully.

I devour her ċunt with my mouth before plunging my fingers in and out of her nȧkėd pussƴ again.

She pants and whimpers underneath my touch, her breath faltering.

She is so close to ċummɨnġ now, whimpering as I kiss her, smothering her noises with my mouth.

Squirming together, we kiss hard as she comes hard in my arms, her body convulsing against mine.

Catching her breath, she giggles and her eyes roll with pŀėȧsurė. Her cheeks are flushed from ȯrġȧsmic bliss.

"Your turn babe." She says bending me over, grabbing my ȧss and stroking it, lightly slapping my buŧŧ cheeks. She licks me from behind, from my creamy ċunt all the way up to the tight ring of my ȧsshole.

"Damn, this feels so fuċkɨnġ good."

You can picture it now, I'm on all fours, she's on all fours, pleasuring me from behind. Her face buried in my buŧŧ, her kisses so gentle, teasing me with the lightness of her touch.

I back into her, harder, wanting her to bury her face deeper into me.

I am filled with ecstasy, her mouth causing my whole being to fluctuate.

She spanks my arse.

Just a gentle spank, inside I ache for her to leave a red mark on my milky white skin—to properly make me squirm under her hot hand.

Lapping up my tight ring she flicks my fanny with her tongue and slides her fingers into my wanton pussƴ, fuċkɨnġ outdoors, me from behind and rimming my ȧsshole and it puckers with pŀėȧsurė.

The fire crackles and the heat of the flames licks our bodies.

I writhe on her fingers, pŀėȧsurė contorting my face as she plunges into me again and again.

I wish I'd packed the strap on, I would have asked her to fuċk me hard at this point with that.

Oh well, I suppose there is always next time… because there will be a next time.

I tell her and she giggles, deepening the pressure of her hand, adding more fingers, fisting me, stretching my ċunt, fuċkɨnġ me harder and deeper and wetter, damn it feels so good.

My pussƴ is gushing and stretching, her hands sliding, as she pumps her hand into my hungry wet hole.

She shifts positions and clamps her other hand on me from behind—holding me from both directions.

The pressure in my ċunt is unbelievable.

I squeeze my tit, my brėȧsts aching to be touched. She spanks me again.

"harder," I plead, "spank me harder."

Crying in pŀėȧsurė, I climax over and over again, riding her hand, screwing myself onto her fingers, feeling like my pussƴ is going to explode.

Turning, I kiss her hard, her, my heart pumping in my ċhėst.

Looking down at her hand I see it dripping with my juices. Such a horny sight. She sees me looking and lifts her creamy fingers to my mouth.

I hungrily suck my tart, sweet, musky, sėx juices from her fingers.

Fuck that tastes good.

There is so much pŀėȧsurė flowing between us, nɨppŀės both hard, skin both hot, ċunts both wet.

"Now it's your turn," I say with a mischievous grin.

She parts her legs and, takes a long inhale. The scent of her excitement fills the air. She smells delicious and it makes me want to drink from her ċunt even more.

But, I am playing it cool…ish.

I sit on the ground behind her with her legs parted in front of the fire, her pussƴ getting warmed up by the glow.

Her wellies are still on, blond hair flowing down her back, she is so beautiful in this light.

As she arches into my body, I play her as though she is an instrument, two fingers inside her wet hole as I strum her like a sweet guitar, the tips of my fingers dipping in and out.

She starts to make that noise again. That whimpering sound, I want to make her ċum so much.

The power and heat in my hand feel immense.

I fuċk her harder and deeper. Pumping my hand and moving my fingers seductively and passionately. She feels amazing on my fingertips.

Our kisses and groans are pounding together like the rhythm of the music.

She quivers between my legs, shaking as she ċums hard, her beautiful face thrown back in ecstasy, her lips full, her eyes rolling in bliss.

She pushes her hɨps up to meet me as she squirts onto my hand clamping her muscles around me again and again.

Writhing in ecstasy, we giggle and look at each other, any tension has been broken between us. chemistry now out in the open as we kiss deeply.

"Wow, who needs festivals?" Katy says, "when you can have parties like this!"

She takes my hand and leads me towards the tent all covered in fairy lights.

Crawling through the door, we sink down onto the air bed.

"Camping is officially my new favourite thing," I sigh as we giggle and fall on top of each other, like rolling onto a passionate bed of jelly.

And unlike when you usually go home from a festival, I'm actually looking forward to being in the office next week. Looking forward to the mischief and fun we can have.

Girls' trips to the toilets seem much more adventurous now!

And bring on lunchtime in the tiny kitchen.

Happy days.