Book Extract: Dreaming of Her by Maggie Morton

Isa was walking down a dimly lit hotel hallway. Every foot or so a seashell-shaped wall sconce glowed with a gentle, golden light. A door to her left caught her eye—room sixty-nine. Did Lilith await her beyond the door? There was, of course, only one way to find out.

Inside the room, candles burned on every surface, a much more pleasant glow than the artificial light behind her. “Come in,” said a woman, lounging on a large, circular bed right inside the door—a woman who happened to be Ming. “Come in, and help yourself to anything you want.”

After walking a few steps toward the bed, and toward Ming, she saw that this wasn’t actually a small room like she’d expect in a hotel. No, it was expansive, full of beds, couches, and tables. And beautiful, naked women. When Ming had said, “Help yourself,” she couldn’t have been referring to the women…could she?

“Yes, you may help yourself to any of us you wish. Or, of course, you could choose to come directly to me. It’s up to you.” Ming moistened her lips, her tongue almost drawing Isa to her.

But instead, Isa decided to go down the stairs. “I…think I’ll explore a little, if you don’t mind, Ming.”

“No, not at all. Explore away. Indulge away. But I would be delighted if you managed to find your way back to me once you’ve had your fill of the other ladies scattered about this room. I’m who you came here for, after all, and it would be disappointing if you and I didn’t get to enjoy each other…didn’t get to taste each other.”

Isa was suddenly very, very wet, and moments after noticing that, she noticed that she was now completely naked. But none of the women were clothed either, so she certainly wasn’t out of place.

She decided to follow Ming’s suggestion, so she walked farther into the room, past Ming and her bed, and down some wide, carpeted stairs. On the floor, women were draped over couches, over beds, over each other. It was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.

At the bottom of the stairs, she thought of Ming telling her to help herself to anything she wanted. So she did.

The first woman she saw who wasn’t with anyone else, who was only fucking herself with a dildo, was the one she approached, ready to offer herself…or maybe, the woman would be the one who became an offering? Isa wasn’t sure if she was appealing enough for one of these absolutely beautiful women to want to dally with her, to want to touch, taste, or fuck her.

But this woman certainly did, turning languid, golden eyes toward her. “Can I have you? Because I want you,” she purred, and Isa couldn’t stop herself. She nodded in assent.

“Yes, I’m all yours.” Isa was surprised when those words came out of her mouth, but she was even more surprised when this woman yanked her to her bed. And then, without a moment’s warning, her fingers were inside Isa’s cunt.

And her fingers certainly hadn’t had to fight their way in, because Isa was dripping wet. The woman now slid in a second finger, two fingers fucking Isa’s cunt—the way a dick might, she thought, only better. They had more control than a man’s dick, and Isa had heard once that lesbians thought of their hands as a woman’s version of a cock. Oh, she could certainly see why now, but the way they felt, curving up into her, touching places she hadn’t even known she’d had, well, that was miles beyond anything she’d ever felt with a man. No, it was no question which team she wanted to bat for, no question which team she wanted to fuck.

The woman’s two fingers had now turned to three, almost without Isa noticing, but she certainly noticed how full she was starting to feel. All of the woman’s fingers were curved toward Isa’s stomach now, all of them hitting the inside of her cunt in just the right way. Then she started filling up, like something was building inside her, wanting desperately to be released. And then the pressure built up so much Isa almost couldn’t hold it back any longer.

 “Oh, are you going to come, baby? You gonna come for me?” Isa looked down and saw the woman’s grinning face, and those words and her smile were all it took to push Isa, screaming, over that final peak. And as she did, something happened that had never happened before. She came all over the woman’s face, ejaculating on her lips, her cheeks, her chin.

Isa collapsed onto the couch, and then her partner crawled up Isa’s body, her face only a few inches away from Isa’s. “Here, sweetheart, I want you to taste yourself. I want you to taste how delicious you are.” She pressed her lips to Isa’s in a messy, sticky kiss. And yes, Isa realized, she did taste good—sweet, fresh, like nectar. She sighed into the woman’s mouth, relaxing into her touch, her kiss, too, and then the woman slipped her tongue into Isa’s mouth.

It was Isa’s very first kiss from a woman. And this woman was so much better at it than all the men Isa had kissed—gentle, yet firm, and her lips incredibly soft. Soon, Isa was kissing her back, their previously gentle kissing turning hungry and rough, obscene, as the woman grasped each of Isa’s breasts, squeezed them, twisted them. Isa hadn’t done even the slightest kinky thing before, and now she had just ejaculated, and she was letting these delicate hands attack her breasts. It never got to be too much, though, because every second of it felt surprisingly good. And then she was coming again, coming in waves, her passive body yielding to the woman above her in every way possible.

“Good girl,” she whispered into Isa’s ear, and those mere words made her come again.

The woman pushed herself up a few moments later and stood, then gestured toward the top of the stairs. “She’s waiting for you,” she said.

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