Okay. I like to write and I like erotica, but erotica is often difficult to do well. (I've seen some excellent examples on this site, actually - I'll get to them in a moment.) I honestly don't know if this... works or not. I'm not a woman and I am fully aware that male and female sexuality operates on quite different levels. I've tried to make this, well, sensuous. To what extent I've succeeded, I'm not sure. I haven't written anything in a while, so it is entirely possible that this is a bit rubbish... :D
Anyway, enough waffle. If you like it, that's great. If you don't (and this is the potentially tricky thing), please let me know why. (I can take criticism. In fact, I really value it. :) ) I've included the pic that inspired me. It's not an SG pic, because, quite frankly, writing erotica based on pics of people you can actually interact with online is something I find a bit... weird.
"Perhaps we should…"
Sally felt Amy’s hands slip round her waist. Involuntarily, she closed her eyes.
"Amy…"
"Shhh…"
She could feel her friend moving in closer, feel her body as a silken presence behind her. All around them, their clothes were strewn like the discarded husks of alien, magical creatures. It had been a great night. The matching tuxedos had been Amy’s idea. The execs and their sycophantic hangers on had gaped and gawked and she had basked in their attention, proud to be at Amy’s side, proud to hold her hand, proud to weave her way through the standing knots of delegates and guests, whose idle droning chatter stuttered to a halt when she and her lover passed them by.
And the hotel room had been Amy’s idea, too. Sally had protested. She hadn’t minded getting her own room, but Amy had insisted and…
Sally’s body brushed against hers as the hands on her waist began to move, gliding across her skin in exquisitely gentle motions, feather-light touches igniting sparks of pleasure deep inside her. She began to tremble, her body signalling its intention to yield fully to her friend, to submit to each and every one of Amy’s desires, to make herself her… lover.
"Amy…" The name was a summoning, an incantation, a hoarse articulation of abject need.
Amy’s hand shifted suddenly. No longer content with exploring the taut, satin-smooth landscapes of her waist and stomach, it now made its way purposefully to her breast, cupping it briefly before moving higher to rest on its upper slopes, a stray finger rubbing the very edge of the areola gently. Oh, so gently.
Without fully realising she was doing so, Sally turned her head towards Amy’s, mouth open. She saw through half-open eyes Amy’s face come closer to her own, shivered once more as she felt the warmth of her breath, smelled the sweetness of the wine they had shared. She felt the softest of touches on her lips, felt her friend’s grip tighten on her body, felt herself becoming something more than just a friend.
The kiss grew as kisses tend to do. Feelings bloomed quickly, intense and passionate like fire-edged flowers. Sally brought her hand up to her friend’s face and broke the kiss to say…
"I love you."
