A Twisted Bard’s Tale (An Erotic Lesbian Short)

A Twisted Bard's Tale (An Erotic Lesbian Short)





Did you ever wonder what started the feud between the Capulets and the Montagues? Check out this naughty version of Romeo and Juliet--you'll be surprised and delighted by this twisted Bard's tale!

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(Warning: This title contains graphic language and f/f sex.)

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EXCERPT:

The Lady Capulet still wore only her dressing gown in the early morning hours. The Lady Montague had come dressed for an outingâ€"her long gown sweeping the floor, her full breasts pressed up as an offering in the tightly laced bodice. Their hands found one another, the thin material of the dressing gown giving one greater access than the other, to which Lady Capulet’s moans could attest.

“These damnable garments.” Lady Capulet pressed her cheek to her lover’s bodice, her fingers groping along her back. “Turn.”

Lady Montague turned and leaned against the bedpost while the other woman began to unfasten her gown. “Oh, Elizabeth… hurry,” she whispered, aching to be skin to skin with her lover. Her gown fell to the floor in a bright puddle of color and she couldn’t wait any longer, she turned and they kissed again, less clothing between the heat of their bodies now.

“Catherine, it has been longer than I can bear!” Elizabeth Capulet, mother of Juliet and wife of the House of Capulet, sank to her knees before the wife of Montague and worshipped at the only temple she had ever known to move her completely.

Untying her petticoat at the waist and wiggling it down her hips, Catherine Montague bent for a moment to kiss the other woman, breathing in her scent as she stood, leaning back against the bed post for support and spreading her legs wide. She was wearing just her corset now, her blonde curls tumbling over her bound breasts. Catherine moaned as Elizabeth’s mouth met her flesh, parting it with a gentle, side-to-side tonguing, and she reached behind her to grab onto the bed post, her knees weak at the sensation.

“Catherine!” Elizabeth gasped between her thighs. “You are like heaven’s own scent.”

Elizabeth’s tongue was as familiar with the other woman’s body as a fruit-bearing tree was familiar with the sun. She drank her in as if she had been winter-starved for her, her own body ripening like fruit against the heat of her lover’s radiant light. Catherine’s gasps and moans filled the room, her juices flowing thick and copious, soaking the front of the other woman’s gown, her knees growing so weak she began to sink to the floor.

“The bed,” Elizabeth offered, pressing their bodies together and her mouth to Catherine’s, letting her taste her own sweetness. There was the matter of their clothes, and they both paused, smiling as they unfastened one another, freeing their bodies to the cool air and to each other’s warmth.










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