Erotic Stories by Alicia Night Orchid

Sitting there on the balcony of our hotel, over a bottle of wine, Kate asked about the first time I'd been with another woman and how I'd known it was right for me. I had to think back a ways, but I still remembered that hot summer in New Orleans, when a red-headed woman 15 years my senior seduced me.

I was in law school at Tulane. I was hanging in there with my studies, but I was struggling personally. I needed an outlet for my creativity. I wrote short stories on the side. I took a job at a famous French Quarter restaurant, where I worked the cook line. Lark was the sous chef. She was tall and curvy and angry most of the time, with a snarling red mouth and hot green eyes. She spoke with a Europen accent, but never said exactly where she was from or how she got there. She was a lesbian, through and through, the kind who dislikes, even disdains, men. She made it plain from the outset that she wanted me.

She settled next to me one evening while I removed the skins and seeds from tomatoes to be be used in a sauce. "Your ass, girl, it is beautiful." she hissed in my ear. Her long red hair was piled on top of her head, he green eyes flashed. "You should let me buy you a drink some night."

I didn't know what to make of it. I'd had plenty of men come onto me, but never a woman.

One night, after closing, she backed me against the wall and kissed me. I didn't resist those sensual lips, that searching, darting tongue. By then, I wanted her. I wanted those voluptuous breasts and those broad hips. I wanted to feel her large, red nipples on my tiny brown ones. I wanted to inhale the tangle of red hair between her legs and taste the pink inside.

She took me back to her place and fucked me. She taught me how to eat pussy and finger a woman. She taught me how to savor the moment.and make it last. She showed me how to throw a shit-kicking bitch fit and introduced me to her friends. Lark and I were an item. After a while, I learned she had many items, serial tems, multiple items at once. But that was Lark.

After law school,  was still living in New Orleans. I had a period of a couple of years where I wrote and cooked and danced on tables and had phone sex with men for money--but my real sex life was devoted only to women. In fact, I'd pretty much decided I was a lesbian and would only want women again. I loved their fingers and their lips and their rubbery nipples. I loved their asses and the way it felt to spoon with a woman deep in a hot, damp New Orleans night. I loved their tongues dancing inside me, their moods, their clothes, and their jewelry.

Lark and I drifted apart. I rubbed the night away with other women. Out pussies chafed, our nipples clashed.

Eventually, I moved into an artist's house with both men and women sharing space and sex. I found my way back to men. Since then, it's been mostly men in my life, for better or worse.

But I still enjoy the scent and the taste of a woman, still get aroused sometimes by another woman, still think back to those first, early nights with Lark.

Damp sheets and wet pussies, that's what I remember of those times.

That's what I told Kate on our balcony, overlooking the sunset, through a wine-enhanced glow.