Bubbling Over With Desire – Lesbian Erotic Story
Alone for the weekend, she indulges in self-love—until her lover returns early. “Bubbling Over with Desire” is a sensual lesbian erotic short story of passion, intimacy, and irresistible heat.
When you’re alone for the week, sometimes you sink into your own desires. Evelyn was out for several days, on her first ever business trip. I didn’t want to cause extra stress for her, or be too demanding, so I decided to enjoy my time solo, at home. For once.
I do so love indulging in this time.
I had already spent two nights indulging in myself, all by myself. Without having to think of anyone else, I ate whatever takeout I desired and frozen pizzas for dinner, that were washed down with red wine; I indulged myself in a spa night, and indulged in my favorite shows in enviable binge sessions. It almost felt foreign, but I sunk into my self-indulgence with unapologetic bliss.
By the third night, I began to miss her. However, I don’t get to do this often, so I decided I could enjoy the bliss a little longer. So, I drew myself a bath–the kind of bath you sensually indulge in until your skin begins to wrinkle. The kind that’s so hot it almost scorches my skin. If that’s bad, I do not care. Because right now it felt like the right recipe for solo bliss.
Loving Myself Never Felt So Good
I drew myself a bath, remembering I had some dried rose petals and essential oils I hadn’t used in ages. I made the water extra hot. Evelyn always hated when I’d do that, but since it was just for me, I could do whatever suited my sensibilities.
The water was warm. As I sunk in, my body became enveloped in muscle-relaxing heat that felt as pleasurable as an open-mouthed kiss all over my skin. I sank deeply into the tub, allowing the heat to fully enrobe my body. My breasts just broke the surface among the bubbles, nipples pebbled and sensitive from the temperature shift.
The bathroom was hazy with steam, the air thick with the scent of rose and sandalwood from the candles I lit before taking the plunge. This was a night of self-romance, and I spared no detail. My body began to relax from the day, as I simmered to the sounds of sexy lo-fi playing on my phone. I had the door locked, thinking I’d have at least two hours to myself. Just me, my body, and any fantasies that my brain spun in my most sensual state.
Oh, How I Loved Driving Her Crazy
My fingers idled in the water, drifting over my stomach, tracing slow circles around my navel to the beat of the music. Bubbles clung to my skin, flowing around my curves. I smiled, lifting one leg out of the water to watch bubbles cascade towards me.
As I began to sink into my personal bliss, the personal romance began to fade. I missed her. I drifted off into fantasy, as my fingers began to travel between my legs, for lazy pleasure.
What I didn’t expect, was that I didn’t have to miss her for long. I thought I imagined the click of the front door, dreaming of her being next to me. Then I heard her voice, low and smoky from the other side of the bathroom door: “Babe… what are you doing?”
The bathroom door handle jiggled. My eyes snapped open.
A half second later, the lock clicked. The door pushed open slowly.
And there she was.
Standing in the doorway in her favorite travel outfit–athleisure, of course–lips parted in surprise. Her eyes locked onto me instantly, seemingly surprised at the romantic sights I had set up for myself.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, slightly embarrassed to be caught in the middle of my solo romance. She dropped her bag to the floor, “Surprise,” she said with a wild grin.
“You’re early,” I said, pleased. I was unsure of how all of this would be received. Her gaze dropped to where my fingers were, now stalled between my thighs. A small gasp escaped her. “Without me?”
I giggled, “now you just sound like the corny men I used to date”. She laughed and kicked off her shoes. She knelt next to me, grabbing my head from just below the surface, my curls between her fingers.
“Well, I won’t disappoint you like they did, ever,” she said, adding a deep kiss. I melted with my head in her hands.
She knelt beside the tub, one hand braced on the edge, the other reaching out to brush a strand of wet hair from my face. Her touch sent shivers through me. “You’re so beautiful like this. This is the most gorgeous surprise I could imagine.”
“I’m always wet for you,” I quivered, anticipating her touch. I quickly lost embarrassment for her witnessing my self-romance.
Her fingers traced my jaw, then dipped down to my collarbone, leaving a slick trail. “Can I join you?” I nodded. Soon her shirt dropped, then her bra was tossed aside without care. Her tits sprang free, full and heavy, her dark nipples already hard.
“The water is too hot for me to think you planned this,” she laughed, slipping off her panties.
Completely naked now, I could tell she was telling the truth; she was glistening with her own arousal.
She eased into the tub behind me, her legs sliding along mine, her body warm and solid against my back. The water sloshed, bubbles tumbling over our skin and spilling over onto the floor.
“Maybe the heat isn’t the worst” she murmured.
She wrapped her arms around my curves, her hands gliding over my stomach, then up to cup my breasts. “So soft. So perfect.”
She gently pinched my nipples, and I moaned, tilting my head back against her shoulder.
“You like that?” she whispered in my ear, her breath hot.
“Yes,” I whimpered. “God, yes.”
She Possessed Me With Desire
“I love how you respond to me,” she said, her voice low and possessive. “Like your body was made just for me.”
She pinched one nipple a little harder, then the other, rolling them between her fingers until I was squirming, my hips lifting slightly in the water.
“It was,” I breathed. “I missed you.”
Her hand slid down my stomach again, lower, parting my folds beneath the water. I gasped as her fingers found my clit, already swollen and desperate.
“You’re so wet,” she moaned. “Did you do this just for me? Get yourself all slick and ready?”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” I admitted. “Thinking about how you make me come just by looking at me.”
She kissed my neck, biting softly. “You’re going to come for me now, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whimpered.
“Please, Evelyn… make me come.”
Her fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles over my clit, building the pressure just right. Her other hand still played with my nipple, teasing, tugging, driving me higher.
The water rocked with our movements, bubbles clinging to our thighs, our stomachs, the space between us. I reached back, gripping her hip, pulling her closer.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, letting out a moan that echoed unexpectedly.
“I won’t,” she promised. “Not until you’re shaking, baby.”
Her fingers sped up, pressing harder, circling faster. I could feel the orgasm building deep in my core, as my muscles tightened with every pulse of pleasure.
“I’m close,” I panted.
“Let go,” she urged, with a nibble on my neck. “Let me feel how much you need me.”
And I did.
My back arched, my pussy clenched, and a cry tore from my throat as the orgasm crashed over me like a wave. My hips bucked in the water, my body trembling as pleasure exploded through every nerve.
Evelyn held me through it, her fingers still working me gently, prolonging the waves until I was gasping, weak, collapsing back against her.
“God… fuck…” I breathed.
She kissed my shoulder. “You’re incredible.”
We stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other, the water cooling slightly around us. Then she shifted, slipping her hand from between my legs, bringing her fingers to her lips.
She sucked them slowly, tasting me.
“Mmm,” she said, her tone deep with desire. “You taste like heaven.”
“You know what else tastes like heaven?” I asked, turning in her arms.
“What?” she whispered.
“You.”
Before she could respond, I kissed her.
She melted with my deep kisses. I stood up and led her from the tub. She watched me, confused at first, as we moved to the bed.
Then her eyes widened as she realized what I was doing. “Baby…” she breathed. “You don’t have to…”
But I was already there. I pushed her to lay back as I surfaced between her legs. Her pussy glistened above me, pink and plump and so fucking perfect.
“I want to,” I said, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. “Besides, you look like you taste delicious”
And then I tasted her.
Salty, sweet, musky. Everything. My god. I groaned as my tongue slid through her folds, finding her clit already hard and begging for attention.
“Fuck!” she cried, her hands flying to my hair. My desire was palpable.
I sucked her clit into my mouth, gently, then harder, flicking it with the tip of my tongue. She writhed above me, her hips lifting, her breath coming in gasps. I knew she was on edge.
“You like this?” I asked, pausing just to torment her. “You want more?”
“Don’t stop,” she begged. “Please, don’t!”
I didn’t.
I dove back in, licking deep, circling her entrance with my tongue before plunging inside. My fingers joined me, two sliding into her tight heat as I moved back to her clit. I felt like a demon.
“God, yes! Just like that! You’re so good—so fucking good!”
Her legs trembled. I could feel her getting close, her walls tightening around my fingers.
“Mmmmhmm,” I managed to get out, as I focused on delivering her pleasure.
And she came right for me. Just for me.
Her back arched, her cry loudly taking over the room. I left her writhing, my fingers still inside of her as she pulsed around my fingers, which were now wet from her pleasure.
I sucked the last bit of her off my fingers, and kissed her deeply so she could taste herself on me.
“You’re insatiable,” she whispered, stroking my cheek.
“And you love it.”
“I do,” she smiled. “I love you.”
As I rested my head on her chest, our bodies tangled, and listened to her heartbeat, I realized that this was so much better than being alone.
“Best welcome home ever?” I asked, knowing it already was.
She laughed, kissing the top of my head. “Next time, I’ll draw the bath. And you’ll be the one walking in on me.”
I grinned. “I can’t wait.”
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About The Author
Amara Francesca
Amara Francesca is the Editor-in-Chief of PeachKisser.com, where sass meets sensuality, blending sharp cultural critique with unapologetically femme storytelling. Part critic, part storyteller, she covers the adult industry and self-love with a sharp, playful edge.
