cute lesbian touches her girlfriend until she cums hard | intimate lesbian

The sun allowed a warm glow to illuminate the dimly lit room, as Beverly stretched her petite frame in the soft light. Her raven locks cascaded over the crisp white sheets, dark against a light background. Though diminutive, Beverly’s mien carried an unmistakable aura of sensuality, her ruby lips parted slightly to release a luxurious exhale.

Beverly’s definition of “breakfast in bed” was unconventional. While most people savored toast and coffee, she indulged in a different kind of sustenance – the delicate touch of a lover. Today, her confidante was Yasmine, a petite beauty with an alluring smile and silky chestnut locks.

Lying beside Beatrice, Yasmine’s fingers traced playful patterns along Beverly’s smooth skin, the feathery caress setting off tantalizing tingles in her lover’s body. Beverly’s breath hitched as Yasmine’s hand glided up her thigh, pausing teasingly at her sensitive inner knee. Leaning in, Yasmine’s lips brushed against Beverly’s earlobe in a whisper. “Mmm, you’re so soft,” she purred. The honeyed timbre of her voice sent a delicious shiver down Beverly’s spine.

Yasmine’s hand ventured higher, now skimming along the hem of Beverly’s cotton shorts. The fabric rasped against her skin, the sound obscenely loud in the charged silence. Beverly’s hips lifted ever so slightly, silently beseeching for more. Yasmine obliged, her fingers delving into the waistband and tugging them down. The shorts drifted to the floor, leaving Beverly bare. A slight flush dusted her cheeks; a telltale sign of her building excitement.

Yasmine’s palm smoothed over Beverly’s abdomen, reveling in the smooth expanse. Upwards it glided, pathways of heat left in its wake. Beverly’s nipples pebbled into stiff peaks as Yasmine’s hand closed over one breast, tweaking the hardened bud. Beverly arched into the touch, a breathless whimper escaping her lips. “Yasmine…”

In response, Yasmine’s fingers slid further down, parting Beverly’s slick folds. A gasp tore from Beverly’s throat as Yasmine’s digits found her throbbing clit. “Oh, god,” she panted, her hips rocking into Yasmine’s hand. Yasmine’s touch was skilled, unerring, as she rubbed her lover’s most sensitive spot. Each circling motion sent bolts of pleasure coursing through Beverly’s veins.

Lost to the sensations, Beverly clung to Yasmine’s shoulder, fingernails digging into smooth skin. Her breathing grew ragged, chest heaving as she rapidly approached the precipice. The telltale tightness coiled low in her belly, an impending storm threatening to burst. Above her, Yasmine’s brown eyes smoldered with intensity. “That’s it, baby. Let go for me,” she encouraged, her voice a husky command.

As if those words were the key to unlock Beverly’s release, her body shattered. “Yasmine!” she cried out, back bowing as ecstasy rippled through her. Her thighs trembled, muscles locking up as wave after wave of bliss crashed over her. Yasmine rode out her climax, fingers continuing their ministrations until the last flutter died.

Collapsing back against the pillows, Beverly gasped for breath, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. Yasmine leaned down, claiming her lips in a searing kiss. “You’re exquisite,” she muttered. Beverly smiled radiantly, tracing Yasmine’s cheek with a fingertip. “Even better than hazelnut coffee.”

They shared a chuckle, basking in the afterglow. Post-orgasm, Beverly felt languid, her limbs heavy. She nuzzled into Yasmine’s shoulder, sighing in contentment. “I love waking up like this,” she confessed. Yasmine tightened her embrace. “I love making you feel incredible,” came the murmured reply.

As their bodies entwined, shifted positions, a sense of intimacy settled over the pair. This moment felt elemental, visceral on a cellular level. With Yasmine, Beverly felt a deep, soulful connection that transcended the physical. To be touched so tenderly, loved so fiercely – it was the most profound experience she had ever known.

Wrapped in Yasmine’s arms, Beverly were reminded of a quote she once read: “Love should be a verb, not a feeling.” In this instance, the act encapsulates the sentiment perfectly. Yasmine’s fingers on Beverly’s skin conveyed adoration, a genuine passion. Stroking her lover to the pinnacle of ecstasy, then holding her as she tumbled over the edge – that was love. Verb-ified, wholehearted, and raw.

As the sun crept higher in the sky, painting the room in a golden nimbus, Beverly and Yasmine remained entwined. This stolen slice of tranquility, peppered with affection, felt sacred. An interlude removed from the noise and distractions of the outside world – just two beings expressing their utter devotion for each other.

Time loses meaning, dissolving into a timeless continuum of soft caresses, feather-light kisses, and whispered endearments. In this intimate dance of connection, Beverly and Yasmine lose themselves, becoming one. Two halves of a single whole, perfectly complementary. This is the ultimate intimacy – two souls merging as one.

Beverly’s release haunted her long after the events transpired. For days, the memory of Yasmine’s touch lingered on her skin, each caress replayed in her mind. Even now, in the quiet solitude of her room, she could feel a phantom pressure against her clit, Yasmine’s fingers circling, teasing, bringing her to the brink of oblivion.

Her body remembered the way she had been laid bare, a writhing bundle of nerves and desire. In that moment, nothing existed except pure sensation. Yasmine’s fingers, slippery with arousal, had drawn tight circles over the swollen nub until stars burst behind Beverly’s eyelids. The coil inside wound tighter and tighter, a spring hyperextended to its absolute limit.

And then – sweet oblivion. Release crashed through her in a tidal wave, pulling her under, drowning her in sensation. Wave after wave of ecstasy swept through her, sweeping her out to sea. She was adrift, lost to the crashing surf, drowning in a sea of pleasure.

Even now, her body responded desperately, hips rocking into empty air. She craved that sweet torture again, Yasmine’s fingers drawing her apart until she shattered, remake pieces by the intensity of it all.

But these were just shadows, faint specters of a memory. Yasmine wasn’t here. There was no soft skin against soft skin, no breathy whimpers or gasps of pleasure. Just the ghostly echo of a touch.

Beverly’s hand crept into her shorts, seeking that remembered pressure. Perhaps she could reclaim even a fraction of that pivotal moment, the world tuning out until all she knew was sensation and release.

Her fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves, slick and swollen. A moan escaped her lips as she circled the nub, pressure building with each pass. Her free hand crept beneath her top, tweaking one peaked nipple. Sensation sang through her, similar yet so different than before.

The pleasure climbed higher, sweet and sharp as Beverly Increase her efforts. She could almost feel the stirrings of orgasm, that most addictive and maddening sensation. Just a little more, just a few more circles—

And then, oasis. Her climax crashed over her, not as intense as that day with Yasmine but still satisfying. From what had been merely a memory and a longing, she had created a duplicate of that pivotal moment.

Beverly rode out the waves of pleasure, each leaving a warm afterglow. As they faded, reality returned in a sudden rush. The bulbs of the staircase sconces, the grand piano glinting from the hallway. Her hand still nestled in her shorts, sticky and spent.

But in her mind, she was still there. Therwith Yasmine, entwined as lovers. Skin and saliva and sweat, the most primal expression of intimacy. In the haze of afterglow, she had felt little more than an anchor, guiding her to brave new depths of pleasure.

And the memory lingered still. Inescapable, in plain sight, a constant reminder of that pivotal moment. The world could move on, change so completely, but she would always treasure that instance above all else.

For even in the chaos, it was a resolute certainty. That one perfect moment, captured igniting the matchstick of memory when struck. And even now, it was a glowing ember, waiting to be coaxed to life again with proper kindling.

Just a thought, a dream, a phantom of her imagination and all the retired hypotheticals that plagued her. All of these united under the same cause: bliss with Yasmine.

The seduction was subtle. A soft touch here, gentle fingers tracing her bare skin, setting nerve endings aflame with desire. A husky murmur there, her name falling from those full lips like a prayer. Each stimulation coaxed her closer to the edge, heightening her anticipation.

She surrendered completely to Yasmine’s ministrations, reclining on the soft bedding, her body taut as a bowstring. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, sensation coil tightening in her core. Each caress, each kiss, stoked the fire raging within, threatening to consumes her utterly.

Her lover knew her body so well, each touch a well-choreographed dance. Nimble fingers glided over sweat-slicked skin, painting a trail of fire in their wake. Beverly arched and squirmed, lost to the dizzying pleasure, all control surrendered to Yasmine’s masterful hands.

Pressure built like a gathering storm, pleasure coiling so tightly it threatened to snap. Her release hovered just out of reach, a tantalizing mirage slipping through her fingers. She clutched the sheets, knuckles bloodless, as Yasmine’s touch slid over her most sensitive spots with maddening precision.

And then, at last, ecstasy crashed over her in a tidal wave. Her body bowed, back arching clear off the bed as sweet oblivion consumed her. Wave after wave of pure sensation pulsed through her, leaving nothing but a boneless, satiated shell in its wake.

As she drifted down from that dizzying high, she felt Yasmine’s weight settle beside her. Two hearts pounded in tandem, a lullaby of passion and companionship. She turned to meet her lover’s gaze, a satisfied smile curling her lips. “That was incredible,” she managed to gasp out. “You’re incredible.”

Yasmine’s grin was Cheeky, self-satisfied. “I aim to please,” she purred, leaning in to deliver a searing kiss. Beverly’s lips parted eagerly, welcoming the invasion of that clever tongue. Tasted like salt and woman, Yasmine’s essence now forever a part of hers.

Variety is the spice of life. And this time, Beverly knew there would be many more delicious adventures to come.