My Lighthouse Lesbian Lover

By Lauren McAllister

The old formula for marriage was that it was a bond formed between a man and a woman. But when you end up marrying a lighthouse keeper, it is really and only between a man and a woman! Robert’s dream wasn’t always to live and work in a tall, thin building in the middle of storm tossed Lake Superior. If it had been, he’d be out there by himself trying to get laid by fresh-water mermaids.

No, Bobby wanted to be a dentist. Not the most exciting job in the world but he had a reasonable sized cock and our dentist drove a Range Rover so I thought, why not? If our marriage got too, too boring, I’d always have access to some world class drugs. But Bob didn’t really have what it took to drill great big holes in people’s decaying teeth.

Real estate wasn’t his bag either. He liked being a bouncer until that one night he regained consciousness in a dumpster with a dead rat in his mouth.

After that occupation fizzled, Bobby became less of a people person. When the job came up for a lighthouse keeper, he had only one question. “Does it have any rodents?”

In reality, Stannard Rock Lighthouse doesn’t really have much of anything. I mean, it’s in the middle of the middle of nowhere. But the pay was good and it came with room and board. There was no commute because it’s situated 32 miles from the fucking nearest tree.  The water is so unbelievably cold; bears crack their teeth on the fish.  

Bobby and I did a lot of fucking in that lighthouse. TV reception was crap and the internet was worse. Watching a light go round and round all night is not nearly as entertaining as it sounds. So, once the sun went down, he’d spend most of the night playing “Hide It In The Hole.”

Our big escapes from suicide-inducing boredom were the once-a-month supply ship and our once a year visit from Arnold. Arnie was the maintenance guy. He’d stay with us for a week and grease and hammer at shit and then he’d be gone. As lonely as I was, Arnold was never on my pussy radar. Number one, he was always covered in grease and smelled like and abandoned deep-fat fryer. Looked a bit like one, come to think of it.

But in our 5th year of living in the “Penis on the Lake,” Arnold retired and was replace by Janice. She was pretty significant change from our previous guest. For once thing, you couldn’t smell her ten minutes before she entered the room. At first I was afraid that Bobby would start to become interested in her. I was the only woman that Robert had been around in a long time and Janice may have been a sturdy girl but very good looking. After a day or so, though, I found that I was the one who was becoming interested and in a less than wholesome way. I started bringing her cups of coffee and snacks and hanging out to talk. She had a way of looking deep into my eyes and really listening to me when I talked. Quite frankly, it was a new experience for me and it turned me on. I found myself sneaking some quick, stealthy looks at her amazing ass as she bent over the winding shaft or lens drive gear. Yum.  To be honest, I was a little taken aback about by these feelings I had rushing around inside me. Wanting her to be rushing around inside me. 

It also made me nervous. I hadn’t really been with a woman. Oh, I’d had the odd girl-on-girl drunken necking session in college. But those were mostly to turn the boys on at the dorm party. Actual in-the-buff, muff-diving? I wasn’t sure I was ready to take the plunge in her sponge.

And, I didn’t know whether Janice was interested, either. This could have just been my lonely twat making something really juicy out of nothing.

She sure looked deep into my eyes, though. And I seemed to be really juicy most of the time I was around her.

On her third day there, I dropped down into the big engine room. This is where the motor for the rotating light was located. It was really hot down there. And so was Janice. She had stripped down to some tiny shorts and a small, sleeveless t-shirt.

“Hey,” I shyly stammered, my swollen clit beating faster than my heart.

“I hope you’re not bringing me coffee,” she smiled, wiping some sweat off her forehead with her wrist.

“I, ah, didn’t know whether you liked lemonade, so I just brought you some iced water.”

“Aren’t you a little sweetheart,” she teased, taking the glass from my hand.

I watched her impressive bicep grow as she raised the water to her lips. My vagina had been turned into quivering Jello by this point. Her mix of manly toughness with womanly beauty was intoxicating.

“You’ve got a little grease on your cheek,” I said, wiping it off for her.

Suddenly, Janice put her arm around my waste, pulled me forcefully towards her and kissed me hard on the mouth. There were so many reactions going on in my mind and body, I was practically dizzy.

Eventually, and certainly not because I wanted her to, Jan let me go, looked deep into my eyes and said, “Are you okay with that?”

“I… ah… “

That must have been a sufficient answer, because the next second Janice was in my mouth again and searching for my tonsils.

When she finally let me up for air, I couldn’t even remember what a man looked like. Those lips sucked every molecule of heterosexuality out of my very soul (I eventually got it back but it was a heck of a lot of fun while it was gone). I stared at her, not quite sure what to do. Women hadn’t been my thing but at this moment, I was a happy convert.

Luckily, I didn’t need to worry. Janice spun me around and pulled me close to her. I could feel her breath on the back of my neck and her hand slipping down the front of my sweats. Before I could take a single shocked breath, her fingers slid down between my legs and right into my girlie lips. The second her fingertip stroked my clit, my entire body band started playing a marching song. Up and down and around. Up and down and around. I could feel my hips responding to her rhythmic rubs and how aquatically wet I’d become. Oh my God, did she know how to please a woman. I was sighing and moaning and… did I mention sighing. Luckily, the loud machinery drowned out my absolutely obscene sex noises or Bobby would have come running. Janice now had both hands rummaging around my candy crevice. Her right hand continued to glide and slide while her left had two fingers inside me, searching and finding my G-spot. By now, I was on the rutting runway, breathing like a choo-choo train and my thighs were squeezin’ to her pleasin’. Jan bit gently into my neck as the slow, powerful build started to make my eyes vibrate. Sweet god almighty! My cunt exploded like a Spinal Tap drummer. The knees buckled, my stomach spasmed, my eyes jammed shut and my quim quivered. When I regained my senses, I discovered that I was lying on the floor with Janice looming over me, licking my essence off her fingers.

She helped me back to my feet and kissed me, forcing me to taste my own hoo-haw honey on her lips.

“Your husband’s been calling you,” she informed me with a mischievous smile.

Fuck! All of a sudden, I felt as guilty as the Trump administration and ran out of the room. It didn’t last very long, though. That night, I got Bobby to fuck me. Really fuck me. I wanted to put him into a deep sleep because all I could think about was heading down those stairs and stealing into her room.

Around midnight, he was out like an armless boxer and within minutes I was nervously opening her door. Janice was waiting for me. That confidence that she knew I would be there, really steamed up the soup in my tureen. Jan was laying naked on the bed. As I entered the room she spread her legs, exposing her puffy mound to me, her ring finger sliding up her left outer lip. My fuck cave twinged as I waited for her instructions.

“I want you to lick me,” she commanded.

Casting my nightie off, to offer up my body to her, I crawled onto the bed and placed my face between her legs. This was a new experience for me but a revelatory one. Bathing my cheeks and lips in her savory sex sauce as I slipped my tongue inside her labia practically set my hair on fire with desire. I feasted upon her tumescent twat, avidly tasting the very core of her womanhood.
She grabbed my hair roughly as I continued to lingually please her. Ordering me to speed up or slow down. Higher. Lower. I obeyed every last direction. Finally, I was told to suck hard on her clitoris as she came all over me. Literally. She squirted over my face and hair, with her lady liquids dribbling down my chin and onto my tits. After a last pelvic heave into my nose, burying it in her love tunnel, she released her iron grip on my head.

I so wished she had a cock. I wanted her to fuck the shit out of me at that very moment. Janice didn’t really leave me wanting, though. She flipped me on my back and inserted couple of fingers into my custard maker and she proceeded to do me with those two little appendages like no cock could. Wild orgasmic blasts shot up inside me like I had a gatling gun firing cum bullets up my spunk tube.

We lay together for about half an hour, stroking each other’s breasts and indulging in the odd upper-thigh dry hump. Then I got a little nervous, and headed on back up to Bobby.

For the rest of the week, I was thoroughly at her disposal and Janice took the lead in everything we got up to. I didn’t even know it was possible to climax from being finger-fucked up the ass! I obviously had so much to learn.

Now, I take regular overnight trips to the coast to do some shopping. Once I get there, Janice and her gorgeous wife pretty well fuck me ragged but I can’t get enough. Don’t worry, I more than make it up to Bobby upon my return.

I used to long for the day when we’d get off that goddamn rock and live a normal life. Now, a “normal life” is that last thing I want in the whole world.   

The End

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When a horrible tragedy befalls all-world nice guy, Eddie, his best friend convinces his wife to help cheer him up. Life may suck, but luckily, so does Johnny’s bride.

Copyright Lauren McAllister 2022

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