Fan Fiction

    This story has been set to a rating of NC-17. Age verification is required to proceed.

    Age Verification

    I am years of age as of today, October 20, 2026

    Enter your current age into the field provide above. Stories with a rating of R or NC-17 may contain material not suitable for children. LesFan requires that all individuals wishing to read these stories confirm they are of at least 17 years of age. LesFan uses the MPAA rating labeling system for all stories.

    LesFan will also make a best attempt to filter profane words in stories that are not rated R or NC-17 unless the individual confirms they are of at least 17 years of age.

    LesFan uses the following rating scale for stories.






    Submit

    The escape and The escape…in the mirror (Part 27)

    Part 27

    The escape

    Bathed in sweat I have woken this morning. It’s cold, I tremble, I’m afraid. All my courage, all my strength, all my plans … everything had left me. I am not able to, Tina. I am so sorry, but I am not able to. If you saw me now, a small heap of misery, my own courage broken down like a chart house. What have I thought? What was that supposed to be? Did I really think, I could simply knock at your door and say: "Hello, how are you?", I could simply go to the Planet in which you enjoy your Sunday breakfast with Alice, Dana, Shane and Kit and ask you if there’s a free seat at your table? How childish naive I am, nevertheless to believe, it could be easy, easy to be here and everything would sort itself out. I should have written a letter, like well Losingthelight had said. But no, not Bette Porter, Bette Porter doesn’t realize well-intentioned advices of others, Bette Porter has her own will and she still wants to go right through every wall with it. And once again I got myself a mighty bump. Damn, have I learnt nothing in all the years? Yes, I should have written the letter instead of waking up here bathed in sweat in a bed of wonderful memories. I remember me as if it had been yesterday:

     

     

    When I returned from the shower, you were already in bed. You sat upright with the back leant at the back wall of the bed, dressed with a cream-white sateen shirt, the cover pulled up to the hips. The outlines of your nipples showed themselves at the material, allowed to foresee the beauty of your breasts. You smiled at me, expectantly, with the rogue in your eyes that seemed to say that he’d get everything whatever he wanted. I slowly came nearer, my heart started to beat fast, louder and louder. "Can you hear that?" "What?" "My heartbeat." You got up, positioned yourself in front of me, let your hand glide under my bathrobe and laid your hand between my breasts. " Not hear but I can  feel it and I want more of you." I love your expectations and I like to increase your desire. And I love it when I do nothing immediately, but to wait a little moment. I approached your face, so near that I could feel your breath.

    Page 1 of 41234

    Leave a Reply