The Lesbian Nights

Note: This is an original work of fiction. All of the characters are purely figments of my own imagination and any resemblance or similarity to any other persons, real or fictional, is entirely coincidental.

Note 2: This work contains graphic depictions of sexual acts between consenting women who, although entirely fictional, are over the age of 18.

Note 3: I intend for this to be a series of short stories with a light-hearted theme derived from the classic book, "A thousand and One Arabian Nights," in which a woman who faces a death sentence in the morning distracts her captor with a story that never ends and keeps him coming back for the conclusion, night after night, forever delaying her execution. Here, our heroine, Kelly, faces eviction from her home unless she can find a way to keep her landlady distracted.

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Catherine D'Boudec strode confidently up the little flagstone walkway to the little cottage that sat on the north edge of the estate. Before knocking, she straightened her blouse and tucked an errant wisp of hair behind her ear. "Ce soir! Je muste..." she said silently to herself. "This night I must tell this American girl that, if the rent isn't paid immediately, I am putting her out!"

Catherine was the grand-daughter of a wealthy industrialist and came from an aristocratic family that had roots in this part of Bretagne going back hundreds of years. The estate, a grand 18th century chateau and grounds perched high on a steep hilltop commanding views across the inlet to St. Malo in one direction and the pretty village of Dinard in the other, had been in her family since it was built. She had inherited it, along with a meaningless title that no one in France had cared about for more than 100 years, when her late father had passed away suddenly while covering the war in Syria for the French newspaper, Le Monde. Catherine had read law at Cambridge and was living in London when she got the news.

Being an only child, Catherine had dropped her cosmopolitan life out of a sense of obligation, and returned to a France she had not lived in since she was a child to run the family estate. The difference between the phrenetic and whirlwind world of London and this quiet little backwater tourist town could not have been more stark. What's more, although the family's fortunes were secure enough, managed as they were by bankers and accountants, running an historic estate was proving to be challenging. On the one hand, the economic crisis had left many in France openly hostile to the "old money" families, with many populist politicians calling for a redistribution of the nation's wealth and lands away from the hands of the privileged and into the public trust.

On the other hand, the crashing economy had severely impacted the tourism industry all over Europe, but especially in quiet, out of the way, seaside villages like Dinard. For many years, the estate had been run as a successful Chambre d'hote, or bed and breakfast, but that business was drying up. As a stop-gap to stem the money losses, Catherine had decided to rent out the little cottage across the garden from the main house on a long-term basis.

Her tenant was an American student who was supposedly attending a graduate program in Belfast, but was staying in Bretagne while researching a paper on local naval history or some such thing. The student was a beautiful and charming young woman who radiated health and energy and life. She had curly dark-brown hair and large doe-like eyes and a smile that seemed to shoot beams at whomever it was directed toward. She was fit, too, like an athlete, and she moved with a certain grace; not like a dancer, but more like a large, predatory cat. Catherine, with all of her pampered breeding, her Cambridge education, her doctorate in law, her big-city life, her family title and her gentrified estate simply wilted in the presence of this curious yankee girl.

Catherine had experimented in London, where being openly bisexual was all the rage in the trendy artistic circles she had moved in. But here in this small, heavily catholic town, she'd had to curb her wild social persona considerably. That she was in her mid-thirties and unmarried with no obvious male suitors earned her more than a few sideways glances during Sunday services from some of the older village women. She was careful, therefore, to look after her reputation in town and not to stir the pot. Business was hard enough as it was. When the American girl arrived, it awakened a hunger in Catherine that she had been denying for nearly three years. It was a treat too tempting to pass up.

The American girl, Kelly, had spotted easy prey and it was only a few weeks before she seduced the heiress, and only a few months before she had the heiress so wrapped around her finger that the payment of rent had been all but forgotten.

But Catherine was through being played with. She was going to march in there and tell this presumptuous little tart that it was time to pay up or get out. Catherine knocked sternly at the door. She was dressed in a crisp white blouse and blue pinstripe pants and her hair and makeup were both severe- she was the picture of cold, no-nonsense business. Kelly, however, was not. She opened the door wearing nothing but a housecoat tied loosely at the waist. It was opened almost to her navel and her pert breasts were nearly fully exposed. Catherine's resolve wrinkled... just a little.

"Kelly, we must talk."

"Of course, Mdme. D'Boudec! Please. Come inside." Kelly held the door open and Catherine strode into the little living room. A fire was going in the fireplace and Kelly had light jazz music playing. Her laptop was opened on the sofa, along with a haphazard stack of papers. "Let me move this," said Kelly, scooping up the computer and papers and relocating them to a small round table in the kitchenette. "I was just ready for a break anyway." Catherine took her place on the sofa, sitting far to one corner. There was a comfy chair across from the sofa, but when Kelly returned, she plopped herself down on the opposite end of the sofa, turning herself to face Catherine. One tanned and muscled leg curled up on the sofa while the other dangled to the floor. The housecoat fell open even wider and Catherine could now see Kelly's right breast, framed with a small patch of white where her bikini had been, and capped with a small, pink strawberry of a nipple. Kelly seemed to not notice or care, but Catherine's heart began to pound in her chest.

Kelly was holding two wine glasses filled with pink champagne. She handed one to Catherine. "Champagne?" asked the older woman, somewhat taken aback. "What is the reason for celebrating?"

Kelly's nose wrinkled as she smiled and said, "My research has been approved by the university. If I can finish my work here, I can put in for my PhD by the end of the summer!" With that, Kelly held up her glass and clinked it against Catherine's. They drank. Kelly took a long swig, Catherine took a small sip. She was immediately amazed by how smooth it was. She drank some more.

"This champagne is.. c'est magnifique," she said, sounding surprised. Such a prize must have cost more than five hundred euros. "Where did you get this... and how did you afford it?" she asked. The barb at the delinquent tenant was intended.

Kelly wrinkled up her nose again. "Good, isn't it? It was a gift from a woman I met in Epernay last season. Have I ever told you about my trip to Eparnay?"

"No..." began Catherine. She wondered if this conversation was about to go off track. Kelly refilled their champagne glasses and began her story:

"I was on holiday and I had heard that the Champagne region was a good place to visit. So I went by myself. I just hopped on a cheap flight to Paris, hired a car and drove out to see it for myself. I didn't even have a hotel or reservation. It was completely spontaneous.

Anyway, I got to the little village of Cramant in the early afternoon. The guide book said that there were some lovely little champagne houses there, which there were, but there was no place to stay. A man at le petite marché in the center of the town told me that I might find a room in Epernay and he gave me directions. Of course, I got lost. I mean I had the GPS, but what fun is that? I was driving around little roads through hills covered in grape vines as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful and I figured that I'd find the town eventually. Anyway, as I was driving around, I began to get absent minded. In Belfast, they all drive on the other side of the road, and so, without thinking, I was drifting over to the left side. I came around this curve and there was a woman in a car coming the other way. I freaked out and spun the wheel. My car spun around and I ended up in a ditch in the middle of nowhere with a broken car and a mobile phone that had no service.

This other woman can running to see if I was alright. I was, but I was stuck. I told her about trying to get to Epernay and about needing a hotel, and she tells me that we are, like, two kilometers from Epernay and that I can stay the night at her house because she rents rooms out during the season.

When we got there, I saw that she had a very beautiful little house on the edge of the village, with a huge barn on the back where she makes her own champagne. She gave me a private tour and showed me the whole process for making champagne. Then, she took me down into the caves. I was amazed... The house above seemed so small, but the caves seemed to go on forever, and stacked everywhere with thousands of champagne bottles. I must have seemed very impressed and she must have liked that because she picked out an old, old bottle... maybe from the 1950s or something like that, and popped it open, right there in the caves. It was the most amazing thing I had ever tasted and we drank together and talked and laughed. Just the two of us alone in that dark cave, surrounded by the most amazing champagne in the world...

It was very romantic and I couldn't help myself. I kissed her. I kissed her and then she kissed me... hard. It surprised me. She was very rough. She pushed me up against a stack of the bottles and held my hands over my head. With her other hand, she pulled up my shirt and pulled down my pants. I stood there, held there by her like a captive, with my shirt bunched up at my shoulders and my pants bunched up at my knees. I was helpless. I said, 'What are you going to do with me?' and she just kissed me again...deeply and roughly. It was so hot. I became wet and I stopped resisting. How can you resist that?

When she finally released my arms, I pulled my clothes all the way off and told her to take me. I took the bottle of champagne and I poured a little over my breast. This woman put her tongue under my nipple and drank the champagne from my breast. The cold of the wine and the heat of her mouth made me go weak, but she held me up. She was very strong and she lifted me to sit on a stack of bottles. She spread my legs and poured the champagne over my pussy. Again she drank the champagne and again I felt the cold of the wine and the heat of her mouth... but she would not let me orgasm. She toyed with me. I was her champagne glass and she drank it from my body wherever she wanted. She put me on all fours and poured a puddle of it into the small of my back and then lapped it up like a kitten, all the while she was playing with my pussy from behind.

She took a sip of champagne and held it in her mouth while she kissed me, the sweet wine shared between us as our tongues danced on one another. She made me drink it from her breast and her pussy, too. We were covered in the wine and we liked every part of each other's bodies. We became more and more passionate and more and more desperate for release. When I couldn't take it anymore, I wrestled her to the ground...on her back... and I forced myself onto her, lowering my pussy to her face. She attacked my pussy. I threw open her legs and buried my face in hers...using her pussy to muffle my cries. We came like that. Together. Her into me and me into her.

When we were done, we dressed and went back up to the house. She showed me to my room and we didn't speak of it again. I went out for a while and, later that night, I soaked in the giant claw-foot tub and went to bed early.

The next day, when I awoke, there was a case of pink champagne just inside the door. There was a note on it. My French is not so good, but I understood this note. It said that three of the bottles were for me, but the rest, I was to deliver to some names. But there was only one address. It was for a woman named 'Vinka' with an address in Augsburg.

When I dressed, I discovered that I was alone in the house. So I left and found a train station. A few hours later, I was back in Paris.

Isn't that the most curious thing? Of course, the only way I would find out what I was supposed to do was if I went to..."

Kelly stopped mid-sentence. She couldn't tell if Catherine was still listening. Catherine was breathing shallow and quickly. Kelly leaned across the sofa under the guise of placing her now empty champagne glass on the lamp stand on Catherine's side of the sofa. To do so, she had to stretch across Catherine, leaning very close to her. As she did, her housecoat fell fully open, and her right breast passed very close to Catherine's lips. She set her glass on the table and as she began to pull back, she shifted closer to Catherine, brushing her breast across Catherine's mouth. Instinctively, Catherine's lips closed around Kelly's nipple. It stiffened.

Kelly steadied herself and draped her arms over Catherine's shoulders. She kissed the top of Catherine's head and whispered, "Oui, mon petite chouchou. Shhhh. Yes. You can have me now." Kelly closed her eyes and rested her chin on Catherine's head, reveling in the soft suckling and teasing on her breast. She felt Catherine's hand slide along her smooth thigh, from her knee to the place where her legs were crossed. Kelly shifted her legs to give Catherine access. She was rewarded immediately. Catherine's slender fingers completed their journey, coming to rest in the patch of curly hair just above her pussy. Gently, they began to probe and caress, seeking out the places where the folds parted and the lips gave way to the wetness within. Kelly gasped a tiny gasp and then sighed deeply. "Oh, chouchou!"

Catherine finally released Kelly's breast. She held Kelly's sinewy body away from her and looked up into her eyes. Kelly's eyes sparkled and her grin grew slowly across her face. It was the face of a predator who had cornered her prey. Catherine gave in. She pulled Kelly down into a strong embrace and kissed her deeply. Kelly broke the kiss and took Catherine's hand by the wrist, the one that had been exploring her pussy, and brought it to her mouth. Slowly, she drew the wet fingers across her lips and then slipped them into her mouth, sucking them and tasting her own wetness.

Kelly withdrew the fingers and smiled. "Oh, chouchou, you're going to make me cum so hard!" She began to undo Catherine's blouse, button by button. Catherine was transfixed. Her hands sought out Kelly's body. She ran her fingers lightly over the young woman's skin, tracing the contours of her body. She felt Kelly release the clasp on her bra and sensed the release as her full breasts expanded to their natural state. Kelly grasped them greedily and put her lips near Catherine's ear, teasing her earlobe and her neck with mouth, whispering dirty little secrets. Catherine's nipples stiffened into hard nubs. She wrapped her arms around the young girl and pulled her close. Kelly's hands went to Catherine's waist and felt around for the buttons and zipper. Catherine raised herself up off the sofa to allow Kelly to slide her pants, panties and all, down over her butt. Catherine wriggled her legs, shifting her pants down to her ankles and, finally off onto the floor. Kelly's open housecoat fell away and like that, they were both naked.

Catherine took charge, rolling them so that Kelly was laying under her on the sofa. Their lips came together and their hands sought out each other's pussies. Gentle caresses soon gave way to frantic rubbing. Catherine slipped two and then three fingers inside the younger woman while her thumb pressed into her clit. "Yes. Oui. More. More!" Kelly grunted into Catherine's mouth without breaking contact. Catherine responded. A fourth finger slipped into the girl, then her thumb. With her hand entirely inside, Kelly stiffened, clamping Catherine's hand inside her. A guttural, almost animal-like noise rose up from deep within Kelly's chest. She shuddered and spasmed, losing control over her body. Her inner walls gripped Chatherine's hand, trying to draw it deeper inside. With one last violent shake, Kelly shouted blasphemous epithets and a torrent of fluid gushed out of her, soaking Catherine to her elbow.

For a moment, Kelly just lay there, pinned under Catherine, breathing heavily and trying to regain her composure. A moment later, her heavily hooded eyes opened bright. "Mon dieux, chouchou! Qu'avez-vous fait pour moi? What have you done to me?" Catherine smiled and kissed Kelly on the forehead. Her strength now restored, Kelly shimmied her way under Catherine, planting little kisses on her bare skin as she made her way to Catherine's womanhood. Catherine shifted and positioned herself to give the girl open access, access the girl immediately accepted. She licked all around Catherine's pussy in wide circled with her tongue flat against the bare skin, savoring the musky smell and the tangy taste.

Catherine murmured and began to rock slightly back and forth. Kelly then slipped two fingers inside... slowly, agonizingly slowly, millimeter by millimeter, all the while sucking Catherine's clit between her lips. When her fingers finally reached their full depth, she began to swirl them around. Her pinky sought out the tight pucker of Catherine's ass and caressed it with feathery touches. Catherine responded by spreading herself wider and arching her back, inviting the girl to explore her more intimately. Kelly pressed firmly against the tight ring with her pinky and was admitted within. The tip of her pinky rubbed just inside the opening in tiny, undulating circles. She was rewarded with a deep moan from Catherine. Kelly pressed further, and then withdrew her hand so that only the tips of her fingers were inside of Catherine, two in her pussy and one in her asshole. She lingered there for a moment, building the suspense, and the rammed all three fingers home in one hard shove. She increased her pressure and her speed, faster and faster. Her tongue flicked wildy at the clit still sucked into her mouth as she pounded both of Catherine's holes. Catherine went silent and then she went rigid. She remained rigid for what seemed like an enternity, and then she collapsed and rolled off of Kelly, off of the sofa, and onto the floor.

Kelly propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at the spent woman. She lifted her fingers to her lips and sucked at them in an exaggerated and playful way. "Mmm. I like the taste of chouchou. Maybe I can make a bottle of this?" Kelly giggled at her own joke and then crawled down onto the floor besides Catherine, who was still gasping for her breath. Kelly curled up beside her and rested her head on Catherine's heaving chest.

They lay like that for some minutes, neither saying a word to the other. Catherine idly stroked her fingers through Kelly's dark, curly hair. Finally, after some time, Catherine asked, "Did you ever go to Augsburg?" Kelly didn't respond. Catherine looked down to discover that the girl had fallen into a deep slumber. As gently as she could, Catherine extricated her limbs from under the sleeping girl, whose only response was a sort of soft, purring snore. She gathered her cloths and put most of them back on, catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror over the fireplace mantle. Her hair was a tangled mess and her outfit wrinkled, but her cheeks glowed a rosy, healthy hew.