Art Class; Steamy Stories of Women Loving Women

By Susie Ray

Art Class - Steamy stories of Women loving Women

Art Class sees Lesley discovering a different side to her sex-life with Lucy, rather than the predictable sex she shares with her token boyfriend. Is it a one-off passionate encounter, or the way forward for her? Find out, just as she does!

 

In Splash, a gentle romance set in Spain, events conspire to change Tania's life forever taking her back to a simpler, more rewarding life-style with her new partner and faithful dog, fulfilling an age-old dream, and bringing her true happiness.

 

The other stories are rather more explicit and adventurous and I hope they will appeal, and turn the temperature up, accordingly. I'm interested to know what you think about the introduction of a transgender woman? I'm not sure if they qualify as truly naughty – I will let you be the judge. I did, however, enjoy penning them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S-Ray Press
• Release date: Mar 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201313197

Susie Ray

Susie Ray Author bio I love to read and lose myself in stories conjured up by the written word – I am a mature individual, but I can still recall love’s first sweet kiss and the sting of rejection; the elation of being brought alive, by another’s caress, or tender words. I write sapphic stories for my own pleasure as well as hopefully that of the reader, and my head is full of ideas and storylines that are desperate to be shared. Admittedly, it was a freebie, but the first sapphic tale I read, left me feeling wanting and empty. I thought ‘I could do better than that’, and I did! My stories draw on a lifetime of experiences and places I have visited, so there is always a piece of ‘me’ in them. My preference is for short stories; tales, in bite-size portions, although some topics, simply require a novella to do them justice. I feel my writing skill has improved and grown with me over time and I am pleased to offer some of my work for your pleasure. Come lose yourself for a while, like I do when I’m writing…

Book preview

Art class

Chapter 1

Ilay spread-eagled , naked on my bed, my wrists loosely bound to the headboard with silk scarves, one red and one blue, a beautiful woman between my legs, taking me to paradise. I was crying out with appreciation as she licked the entrance to my vagina.

Please fuck me! I begged.

The bedroom door swung open and we both looked up to see my boyfriend stood in the doorway, frozen in shock. His mouth was open as he stood there for what seemed an eternity, before turning and closing the door as he left. Part of me wanted to call after him to explain, but her tongue penetrated inside me and I forgot everything else.

Tom was thoughtful , if not the most romantic boyfriend a girl could wish for - one of the presents he bought me for my twentieth birthday, was a set of six art classes. I had expressed a wish to re-discover my artistic side; I used to sketch all the time, when I was at school, but had not picked up a pencil or stick of charcoal since. I was looking forward to my first class, tonight - I guess, I was hoping an outside interest would get me out of the rut I was in - work all week, make predictable love on a Friday night - shopping and see friends at the weekend, before starting all over again.

'Predictable, that was the right word, not quite boring, but predictable', I thought as I joined the students entering the classroom - the sparse room had desks arranged in pairs and I sat at the first available on the second row, soon to be joined by a very pretty girl, about the same age as me, but there the similarity ended. Maybe it was the hubbub of the students filing in and finding seats, but my mind was taken back to my high school days.

The girl sitting next to me was typical of my nemesis, in those days - she had everything, looks, figure, hair and all the boys making a bee-line for her - leaving me, a plain Jane in her wake. I was roused from my memories, when the tutor brought everyone to order and introduced himself. He suggested we work in pairs - he placed a vase on the desk to the side of him and placed a small box under the back edge, tilting it towards us. It was lit from one side only and he asked us to sketch it in charcoal, so he could assess our individual abilities.

There was a pot of charcoal sticks on each pair of desks and drawing paper, but I had bought a sketch pad to document my progress, over the weeks and in schoolgirl fashion, I had written my name and address on the cover - my neighbour leaned over and said,

Hello, Lesley Gray - I am Lucy, I haven't a clue how to begin can you help me please?

First we need to choose a piece of charcoal and get a feel for it. I reached for the pot and Lucy did too, our hands touching - I tried to ignore the spark between us. This looks a good piece; you have this and I will select another.

Lucy's fingers encompassed mine and I could not ignore this - I felt the onset of butterflies in the pit of my stomach - I relinquished the stick and Lucy raised her eyelids and looked straight into my eyes - I swear her eyes were smiling and was she batting her eyelids at me? Just then the tutor said,

When you are comfortable with the charcoal in your fingers, decide how large you want your vase to appear in your sketch - don't just draw what you see - draw what you feel too.

I watched as she made a start, faintly drawing the outline of the shape - I began on my own task, studying the object for a few minutes before attempting to capture it - mine filled my page. I started with the rim, trying to create the ellipse it formed from my perspective and worked my way down the neck of the vase onto the body, tapering down to the base. The tutor was walking slowly observing us all at work, offering suggestions here and there - he spoke to Lucy, but I was engrossed in getting the base right.

Some of the students had clearly finished and were chatting quietly, but I was laying the vase's decoration onto my sketch - next came the shading. For me, it was the shading that brought it to life, giving it depth and substance - I was pleased with the finished result and only then did I become aware that Lucy was watching me working.

That is wonderful, look at my pathetic attempt in comparison. I looked across and her sketch had not shown much change from when she sketched the outline.

She volunteered "It is alright to laugh, I know its rubbish!

Normally I would never dream of criticising someone else's work, but because she had put the idea into my head, I could not help myself and she joined in too. I quickly recovered my decorum and said,

You have a charcoal smudge on your nose - let me remove it.

I only succeeded in making it worse due to the charcoal all over my fingers, so I took out a fresh tissue, licked it and wiped the smudge from her nose. Lucy said smiling,

I don't let many women put their spit on my face! I was embarrassed and lowered my beetroot red face from her gaze.

The tutor came to my rescue and said Well done class, same time next week and do try to get some practice in during the week.

Lucy said I hope to see you next week.

Me too, I replied, picked up my bag and fled from the class.

My stomach was still churning from her first touch and taking the liberty of wiping her nose, like a mother might do to a child. I knew I was not thinking straight, from the moment she touched me; it reminded me of the first time I felt the butterflies, when my French teacher, Mr Jackson, accidentally touched my hand whilst handing back my homework - I had a crush on him for weeks.

At least at home, I was safe - I knew where I stood, where my priorities lay - Tom would be round tomorrow and I would forget all about Lucy. I was beginning to relax with a glass of red wine and ignore the churning I still felt inside - I had just settled on the sofa when the doorbell rang. I put my glass down and made my way to the front door, straightening my clothes and checking my hair in the mirror in the hall, before opening the door.

There stood Lucy - for once in my life, I was speechless - she said,

Hello again Lesley Gray. You left the class in such a hurry you forgot your sketch pad. I do hope I am not disturbing you.

If only she knew - I found my voice and invited her in and she followed me through to my living room. Lucy reached into her voluminous handbag and handed me the pad - I took it making sure we did not touch, and thanked her, offering her to sit. She removed her coat and draped it over the easy chair and sat, right in my spot - seeing my glass, she asked,

I don't suppose you have another for me?

Chapter 2

Where were my manners - I went to the kitchen and poured another glass - when I returned, Lucy was drinking from my glass, and I sat beside her.

I offered her the fresh glass and she took it from me, handing back my own - again we touched as we exchanged glasses, both hands this time, stirring the butterflies inside me once more. A devil in me made me drink from the same spot Lucy had, my lips covering her lipstick print, as if stealing a forbidden kiss from her - she saw what I did and smiled at me, melting any resolve I had to block her effect on me. She was staring into my eyes, but my eyes were transfixed on her lips - they were getting closer, or was it wishful thinking?

Suddenly it was November 5th; 4th of July; and midnight of the new millennium, all rolled into one, as fireworks exploded in my mind - she kissed me! I was desperate to give into my desires, but sensible Lesley stepped in and I pulled away,

I am sorry - I do not know what came over me. I am not gay and have a steady boyfriend.

Lucy smiled "I am not gay either, but I am attracted to you - are you giving off pheromones or something? I know you are attracted to me and we are just kissing."

I kissed her back and she pulled me to her, our bosoms colliding. It did not stop at just kissing - she stood, encouraging me with her - I felt her hands exploring my back, before making their way to the front and she began slowly, deliberately un-buttoning my blouse and pulling it from my waistband. I stopped breathing in anticipation as she spread it open and cupped her hands on my breasts - the heels of her hands below and her soft fingers gently kneading them above my bra-cups. I could not take much more of the wonderful sensations and was pleased when she paused, but her hands travelled around me and unhooked my bra, before returning, slipping inside and making full contact with each breast.

I wanted to reciprocate, but I seemed frozen with delight and now her hands were on my hips - I felt my zipper opening and my skirt fell around my ankles. What was happening to me - I had never experienced anything like this.

Lucy asked Where is your bedroom?

I led the way holding her hand, lest the spell be broken. I climbed onto the bed and lay watching her as she stood above me, removing her blouse and her skirt, before taking hold of my panties - I eased my bottom from the bed to assist in their removal and trembled, knowing what I wanted and that I was sure to get any moment now.

Mesmerised by her, I watched as she opened and closed the dresser drawers, until she found what she was looking for, two silk scarves, one red, the other blue. Lucy leaned over me, smiling with her mouth and her eyes - her bra touched my nipples and I whimpered and watched fascinated as she loosely secured my wrists to the headboard. I could easily pull free if I wanted, but I didn't - I wanted her to take me - she kissed my yearning breasts and then my areolas and nipples before moving between my legs. My trembling had turned to shaking with desire as she approached my pussy and licked along it. Then the door swung open.

Hussy that I must be, I just wanted to feel her inside me, Tom would have to wait, but he didn't and closed the door on his way out. Lucy's tongue penetrated me and I cried out in amazement, that anything could feel this good, but my pleasure was only just beginning, as her tongue emerged and explored my clitoris. I buried the back of my head into my pillow and arched my back, merely trying to cope with feelings that were alien to me, but as natural as breathing - I needed more and there it was. Lucy's fingers explored my vagina - the cherry on top of the cake of my desire.

My brain could not assimilate all the wonderful sensations, resulting in a humungous orgasm, as I thrust and clenched on Lucy's fingers as it surged through my body, every nerve