The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Erotica (11 page)

Lara told Natasha to sit up. “Oil for the pussy and cream for the rose,” she purred, pouring drops of gold from a stoppered bottle onto Natasha’s wide open cunt.

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” asked Natasha, breathing deeply as the warm lubricant landed in blobs on her raised clit. Lara took a fingerful of snowy ointment from a
blue-glass jar and anointed Natasha’s anus with it, slipping a long-nailed finger inside. She lay Natasha face down and began to bathe her back, shoulders and buttocks with her limber tongue.
Natasha had a desperately sensitive skin. The tonguing made her writhe like a snake, causing her to part once more her blushing, sticky thighs.

Lara bent scientifically between the girl’s open legs, gazing at her upraised rump. Natasha resisted the temptation to masturbate. She dare not peak and miss what was ahead. She felt that
sensation of fear and anticipation which is true desire, when the mind says: I don’t know what you mean to do to me, but I want you to do it.

The first thing she felt was something pushing at her cunt. Her lips were parted by cold wood and she felt a carved Russian lady slip inside. It was the second doll, a good size and she gasped,
contracting her vagina. It was pushed all the way in and she heaved her hips, thrilled at the sensation of being fucked by this beautiful woman. Then another blob of cold ointment landed just where
she needed it. Her sensitive rear was again invaded by the tiniest doll, its passage easier now after its first intrusion. It felt good, slipping in there on its bed of cream. It slid all the way
and she felt her asshole closing behind it. A lascivious smile played on her lips as the small doll in her back passage nestled up to the larger one in her front. Then, to her surprise,
Lara’s mouth returned. Another slightly larger Babushka, thick with cream, was nudged against her anus. Pressure was applied, the doll being pushed seemingly by Lara’s clenched teeth.
Natasha swore aloud as her anus was eased apart and the doll forced inside, pushing its partner in deeper. “Fuck,” was all she could manage.

“Good girl,” cooed Lara, working the doll in her vagina. That felt good. It slipped substantially in and out, its hippy contours stimulating beautifully. Natasha was now up on all
fours, her hair hanging down, watching between her legs as the woman in furs slowly fucked her with a painted wooden toy, slick with oil and honey. She reached for her clit but her hand was
grasped.

“Not yet,” teased Lara, and before Natasha could even cry out, a third little doll, the middle sized one, was inserted halfway into her dark passage. This was much bigger and
stretched her uncomfortably, stopping halfway at the nipped in waist of the saucy Russian lady, her hand-drawn smirk protruding. The pain flashed down her legs and into her stomach, her nerve
endings sparking, processing the discomfort automatically into sheets of ecstasy. She groaned a long “ohhhh” and drooled slightly. She wiped her mouth. She wondered what the toy looked
like, jutting between her peach-like buttocks, wagging like an ornate tail, her sensitive membrane stretched thinly around its modest bulk.

“Push out, my sweet,” said Lara, before taking the little woman in her hand. Natasha pushed out, feeling her tightness stretch, and Lara slid home the greased implement, driving all
the breath from the girl’s lungs and making her, with three Babushkas of various sizes in her bottom and a big one in her cunt, feel fuller than she had ever felt before. Her tongue lolled
out involuntarily and she moaned, the sounds beyond her control, a mixture of pain and deep, deep, chemical pleasure, as endorphins flooded her brain. The Babushka in her vagina was gently
withdrawn and Natasha was laid gingerly on her back. The three dolls in her bottom clacked together. The thrum of the horses’ hooves was having a peculiar effect on their position. They did
not seem to be empty. Could one . . . Were there stones in one? The middle one? Or beads? They throbbed ever so slightly. It was new. It was not altogether bad.

“Fare not too much?” inquired the coated woman. “Can you afford it?”

Natasha panted an affirmative and parted once more her legs. She had utterly surrendered.

Lara resumed her licking. She fell upon the young woman’s pussy and ate ravenously, sucking her clitoris as if it were a sweetmeat. As she licked, her left hand fingers toyed with the
lower entry, just as the right hand beckoned at the entrance of her vagina, agitating the occupants of that dark hall. Natasha, now well into the game, pushed and clenched, pushed and clenched,
easing out with difficulty the third doll, with which Lara fucked her at intervals, twisting it round, pushing it in. Expelling it gave her mouth a divine taste of copper coins. Soon all three were
out, lying lacy with frothy cream on the bed. Natasha felt loosened and slightly crazed. She was cresting a wave of desire which shrieked to be satisfied but could not bear to be dissipated.

“Well done,” cried Lara, coming alongside her mate and kissing her warmly. Their tongues played together. Natasha, in her wantonness bit Lara’s full lips.

There were blotches of red on Lara’s breast, her nipples were hard and a spider-web of silky threads was strung between her knees where her own juices had trickled and become enmeshed.
Nevertheless, her briskness did not abate.

“Now we begin,” she said. In front of the panting, supine Natasha, she laid out the five, gradated dolls. The first three were warm from her bottom, the second-biggest was slick from
her cunt. She threw the smallest into the shadows of the cabin.

“We do not need her,” she said. “These,” she said, touching the next three, including the one with the whatevers inside, “these I am going to slide into your pretty
arsehole. Is that too much?”

The last one of the three had just been in her pussy. It was quite big. Natasha bit the inside of her cheek in wonder.

“This,” she said, holding up the longest and largest, the queen of the dolls, “this I will put up your cunt. Do you want me to fuck you in your cunt, until you come?”

Natasha moaned her permission.

“With this little lady doll?”

“Yes, please.”

Lara set about her work. Natasha was bent over on all fours once more, her face on the covers, her arse in the air. Lara creamed the three dolls liberally and inserted them, in reverse order,
into Natasha’s well-worked rump, the biggest first, slathered with cream. The shapely mannequin made Natasha wince and puff out her breath like a train.

She yelled as Lara forced it in deep with two slippery fingers. Natasha felt the top of her head trying to come off. The next was easier but lumpy and full of beans, and the last, the little
nut-shaped one, popped in like a button. Lara licked shut the full arsehole and stood up.

At the foot of the bed she dropped her coat and stood naked before Natasha for the first time. Natasha, splayed on her back, simply stared. The structure of the shoulders, the round belly, the
glory of the breasts, swaying in time to the horses’ gallop, overwhelmed her. Where were they by now, wondered Natasha, half mad with pleasure and crammed to capacity. Mongolia?

Lara took a series of straps from a trunk. Natasha wondered if she was to be flogged. She simply did not care. She felt that she would come, and come hard, if she were flung naked from the
coach, such a state was she in. No. No flogging. Lara was passing the straps between her legs, fastening them behind her regal buttocks. She took the largest of the dolls, a pert madam with the
decency at least to blush in two cherry-red drops of lacquer, and, filling each half with fine black sand, reconnected her, and slipped her into the straps. The little woman stood out from
Lara’s body like a beautiful, dark, painted horn, springing from the woman’s luxuriant hair. She bobbed with her newfound weight. Lara looked terrifying in the shadows, the swinging
lanterns casting umbrae and flames across her awesome, sculptural nudity. Natasha’s eyes widened. She could feel her clitoris swelling.

“Be brave, my dear. My pretty little dolly is very big. I don’t want to split your little cunt.” She spread golden oil over the doll’s bulging head then lay down on her
back next to Natasha.

“Ride me now,” whispered Lara. “Ride me for your fare!”

With difficulty, as she was very full, Natasha swung one leg over Lara, straddling her partner. She crouched over the curvy doll and lowered her craving cunt onto Lara’s hips. Lara urged
her on, cradling her buttocks from beneath, kneading and stroking. Natasha eased herself onto the doll, feeling the mouth of her passage stretch, feeling the honey ooze around the doll as she was
filled to her utmost, front and back, arse and cunt, Lara kindly but firmly driving the doll in to the hilt from beneath. Their private hair curled together. Natasha’s breasts hung soft over
Lara’s neck and tears of sweetness fell onto the woman’s eager face.

The horses plunged ahead. Every bump in the ground, every rut the wheel took askance sent a tremor up the doll and throbbed against Natasha’s cervix. They caught the rhythm of the coach,
Natasha raising and lowering herself onto the luscious woman beneath her, Lara still cradling Natasha’s bottom in one hand, squeezing her swollen breasts with the other, rolling her hips
gently, fucking the girl fully and certainly from beneath. Each thrust rattled the secreted Babushkas, vibrating the beads, making them roll and shift and fuck subtly her unspeakably beautiful
arse.

Natasha rode Lara until she began to moan urgently. She was getting close to orgasm but knew she couldn’t come with three Russian dolls in her rectum. “I’m close, L . . .
Lara,” she sobbed.

“Good girl. Now let me have it.”

“Uh?”

“The first little woman? Hmn? Just the little one. Push her out.”

Natasha kept up the fucking motion of her shaking thighs, but staggered into a crude squatting position and squeezed. The smallest doll was right at the head and slipped out easily, giving the
girl a shudder of joy.

Lara changed their positions, rolling Natasha off her and then dragging her onto all fours. Again the two rear dolls moved, scraping with sweet discomfort. Lara mounted Natasha like a donkey,
pushing once more into her sopping cunt. The girl moaned afresh as Lara began to fuck her in earnest from behind, again, again, fucking to the pounding rhythm of the coach. She was so full, front
and back. Natasha’s breasts grazed the silk of the bed. She bit the pillow and swung her hips to the rhythm of Lara’s hammering. She could hear the kneeling woman grunting with the
effort of driving the slippery doll in and out of her pussy and as the sounds reached her ears, her rectal muscles twitched involuntarily around their welcome intruders.

It did not take long for Natasha to reach the trembling, whimpering stage. As she looked round at her perspiring assailant, her face was a mask of appalled arousal. Lara said, her breath
ragged:

“Okay, the next little woman. Show her to me.”

Natasha groaned, maddened by the perversity of it, her mouth full of the burnt taste of desire. She knew her lover was looking between her buttocks – at her pleated little hole, she
relaxed, felt it open, and the head of the doll peep out.

“Can you see it?” she gasped.

“I can see it,” she purred, “come on now, give it to me. Give – me – my – doll!” With each word she fucked the shaking Natasha with a swing of her
hips.

Natasha pushed, feeling her tight ring widen and stretch. She felt the itching, burning pleasure of that special stretching and the slippery caress of the doll’s sinuous, substantial body
passing out of her anal cavity. The bump, bump of Lara’s belly knocked the doll, fucking her ever so slightly in the arse as she fucked her cunt, but Natasha fought it and expelled the
intruder with a wave of triumph and a wash of terrible pleasure.

“Precious!” crooned Lara as the Babushka rolled past her pubis and onto the bed. She fucked Natasha extra hard as a reward, grabbing a fistful of her young flesh on each side and
pulling her yawning cunt onto the stiff doll. Natasha wailed her joy, the bed beneath her soaked with her sweat, saliva and spots of pearly juice.

Lara withdrew and Natasha collapsed onto the bed. She was as close to coming as she was to a kind of delirious sleep. Lara sat in the middle of the bed, her strong back straight, and asked
Natasha to straddle her lap. Once more Natasha lowered her pussy onto the doll, wrapping her legs around Lara’s buttocks. Lara took the shaking girl in her arms and holding her haunches,
raised and lowered her onto the doll. Natasha cried with pleasure as she felt Lara’s strong arms take over, the doll fucking her cunt, the woman fucking her mind.

“Now when you come, give me the last doll. The big one. Only when you are about to come.”

Natasha was seconds from coming. Her every sound was a warble of need. Lara pulled Natasha’s arse cheeks apart and she rode and rode the doll, squeezing and releasing her anus until, as
the storm gathered in her cunt, and the blood rushed to her head and her toes, she bore down on the last, large, bumpy doll, stretching her poor anal ring wide. It came out half way and Lara,
minx-eyed and panting with exertion, took it in her hand and forced it back again.

“Ah! Ohhhh!” yelped Natasha, as Lara fucked her arse to the same rhythm as she was fucking her cunt. The double assault had the desired effect.

“I’m coming. Oh, shit, I’m coming,” howled Natasha, as Lara forced the doll deep in her tunnel once again. She bounced savagely on both the dolls, soaring impossibly high
on wings of climax and then it hit her in a sweet wave: the orgasm. The rapture which starts as magma in the pit of the stomach and travels like the ripples in a pond, like the wrath of a typhoon,
until it turns the hair to seaweed, caught in the current.

“I’m fucking coming,” she screamed, holding Lara in a ferocious grip. She howled as her orgasm turned her inside out, wrapped her in oblivion, so strong she could not at that
moment have told you her name. Lara released her hand and Natasha passed the last doll from her bottom. She rode and rode, wringing the pleasure from every inch of her body, feeling her very skin
catch fire as her paroxysm slowly ebbed.