Am I? A First Time Lesbian Discovery

By Violet Addison

Intense, erotic, thrilling that will keeping you cumming to the edge of your seat. Are you tired of short lesbian first time stories? These intensely descriptive stories will have you wet and weak between the knees. Am I? First Time Lesbian Encounters enthralls the reader with amazingly written stories and will keep you cumming back for more.

These stories include:
The Maids of Honor: A teens encounter with an older female.
The Runner: An experience lesbian runner leads a younger inexperienced woman to her climax.
The Pussy Hunter: A beautiful black woman dominates two white shopworkers into complete submission, leaving them wet and wanting more.

This book will leave you wet, breathless and wanting more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Violet Addison
• Release date: Oct 9, 2015

Book preview

Am I?

A First Time Lesbian Discovery

by Violet Addison

Copyright 2014 by Violet Addison. © All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons living or deceased, is strictly coincidental.

Table of Contents

One: The Maids of Honor

Two: The Runner

Three: The Pussy Hunter

The Maids Of Honor

She looked so delightful in her pale blue satin bridesmaid’s dress, its tightly-fitted cut highlighting the budding curves of her slender eighteen year old body – her small perky breasts, her slim waist, her trim hips and her cute tiny bubbly ass. Josie was a very pretty and attractive teenager even in her everyday clothing but in this classically-simple and elegantly-shaped sheath of satin, she looked absolutely eatable – and I had plans to do just that.

We both had been the maids of honor at the marriage of my sister, Jennifer, to Josie’s brother, Xavier. The bride and groom had met five years ago when attending the same university, and were now aged twenty-five. I am three years months younger than Jennifer, and a college student myself, but there is a much wider gap of more than eight years between Josie and Xavier. There are no other siblings in either family, and so it was natural that my sister would ask Josie to act as a bridesmaid as well.

The ceremony at the church had been beautiful and everything went very smoothly, Josie and I were feeling pleasurably satisfied and relieved. The whole party had come back to a large hotel for the wedding ‘breakfast’ – actually a large buffet lunch – and reception. As it was winding down; the speeches had been given, the toasts had been made, and the guests were now mingling in a hubbub of conversation, whilst the radiantly-happy new husband and wife circulated around the long room. In the early evening there was to be a party, with a dance for the younger generation, but there would be an interval of a couple of hours before this, to let everyone digest their lunch and catch their breath, and to allow the hotel staff to clear the room and set it up for dancing. This allowed the bride and bridesmaids the opportunity to change their dresses. Xavier and Josie’s family and many of their relatives and friends were staying at the hotel, and my parents – the hosts for the wedding – had also booked rooms for themselves, Jennifer and me, so that we could change into and out of our wedding finery, and also stay overnight and not have to worry about driving home after the reception.

Josie and I were standing side-by-side together in a quiet corner of the big room, with just the wall and a couple of potted palm trees behind us. We gazed at the throng and chatted inconsequentially in the way that you do with someone with whom you feel in tune, but don’t actually know very well – the town that the groom came from was nearly a hundred miles away from New York, where I grew up, and so Josie and I had only met each other at the fittings for our bridesmaids outfits, for which she had come up by train on a series of Saturday afternoons.

I glanced down at her and smiled, with the advantages of being three inches taller, four bra sizes bigger and several years older. No one else was paying attention to us for a few moments, and this seemed like the best opportunity to set things in motion. I leaned closer to Josie and murmured in her ear,

‘Now that we are sisters-in-law, I really want to get to know you better...’

I paused for a second, and traced a finger horizontally across her bare back to her waist. She gasped a little, and then a soft mewl of pleasure as I drew my fingernail back, this time lower down, just under the curve of her sweetly jutting buttocks (as I know well, this has a tantalizingly erogenous effect), whilst completing my sentence:

‘... intimately.’

Josie’s lips parted and I saw the tip of her tongue flick along to moisten them. She turned slightly to look up at me; for a second, she nibbled her lower lip with her teeth, looking suddenly even younger than her age, but what she saw in my warmly admiring gaze eradicated any lingering doubts. She gave me a radiantly beaming smile and slipped her hand into mine, giving it a confirming squeeze.

‘Oh, I would like that, Jacqueline – yes, I would like that very much!’ she whispered eagerly, her eyes bright and her face slightly flushed with excitement.

‘Well’, I said, ‘we need to change out of these bridesmaids dresses – why don’t we do that together, in my room, and then we can properly ... get acquainted?’

Josie swallowed and nodded, her nervousness not due to any fear of what might happen in my bedroom, but rather a lingering residual doubt that it might not, that she might be misreading my signals – unsubtle though they had certainly become. Still holding her hand – for I had no intention of allowing anyone else an opportunity to cut in and carry off this deliciously wholesome girl – I towed her through the crowd to where my parents and hers were chatting amicably together.

‘Excuse me’, I interrupted politely; ‘Josie and I are going up now to get changed, and maybe take a bath before the party.’ I made the latter point quite deliberately, to account for us being gone for quite some time and to explain why we could not answer if anyone came knocking at our doors. Josie’s mother nodded approvingly, saying that she would take a rest herself in a few minutes; my mother enquired, rather vaguely, if we would need some help with removing our bridesmaid’s outfits. I hastened to reassure her,

‘Oh, no, don’t worry about that! If Josie brings a robe along to my room, we can manage it together, and then she can go back to hers – it’s only three doors down – and have a soak in the bath or take a nap, or whatever.’

Josie – the sweet thing – supported this by nodding vigorously (I don’t think she trusted herself to speak at this stage), and both sets of parents smiled benignly at us and waved us on our way – of course, with no idea of what I was intending that we could ‘manage it together’, and that Josie seemed to be looking forward to so avidly. In fact, I had picked up a number of tell-tale signs during the fitting sessions for our bridesmaids costumes, and so my pass at Josie had not been much of a gamble – but it was still a relief to have had my suppositions so positively confirmed.

We trotted up the hotel staircase, lifting the hems of our long satin dresses as if we had stepped out of a Jane Austen novel, and almost ran along the first-floor corridor to my bedroom. Once inside, I quickly hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside handle, and then closed the door and put the deadbolt on from the inside. I turned back towards Josie, who was standing in the middle of the room, gazing at the double-bed (this was one of the larger rooms); she was in profile to me, and I admired again her trim slender youthful silhouette, such a contrast to my own full swell of breasts and hips.

As I came up behind her, she turned to face me and almost naturally came into my arms, so that my heavier E-cup breasts rested upon the top of her chest. She looked up at me in silent question, and we both saw the desire in each other’s eyes. Her lips were already parted and her eyes half-closed as I brought my mouth down to hers and kissed her – slowly at first, and then with a fierce passion which she matched with a hunger of her own. So the last threshold was crossed, for such a kiss could not be dismissed as ‘sisterly’ affection – it was unmistakable sexual lust. My hands slipped down her back, cupping and then kneading her adorable ass; after only a few seconds pause, she did the same to me. Although she was less assertive, I could sense the pleasure with which she stroked my bottom, whilst her nipples hardened into rigid prominent pinnacles that I could feel pressing into my softness through the thin satin of her bridesmaid’s dress.

After a minute or two, I drew back and gazed at the girl, and told her with simple candor,

‘I want you ... you’re so pretty, I just want you so much!’

My directness was all the more arousing for the innocent teen, and she breathed softly in reply;

‘Oh! ... please, yes ... please, Jacqueline, I think you’re wonderful ... oh, I want you too!’

The signs had been there at the fitting sessions in the wedding-dress shop, in fact I had started to notice them from the first one. I know that I am an attractive young woman, with my tumbling blond hair and deep hazel eyes with long lashes. I have an even fuller figure than my sister, despite being younger, and my most striking feature is undoubtedly my breasts – high, firm mounds of femininity which fill my 32D bras and leave a deep cleavage. The flare of my hips and sway of my ass gives them counterpoint, and with a fairly narrow waist I have something of an hour-glass profile. When I arrived at the first fitting session, interested to meet my future sister-in-law and companion maid-of-honor, I had deliberately worn a jersey wrap dress which draws the eye to my breasts and accentuates my bust and cleavage; it then falls to a pleated skirt which swirls around my knees, with an opening that parts to show an expanse of leg with every step that I take. I had wanted to make a strong impression, and Josie’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened in admiration when I first swept into the room and gathered her up for a hug as introduction. My feeling that there might be the potential here for something more than friendship began from noticing the way that she glanced at me sideways when she thought my attention was engaged elsewhere, and the look on her face as her eyes lingered