Straight Until Her Tongue: a Dirty Debut Lesbian Romance Court

I was straight. Capital-S, church-raised, boyfriend-kissing, never-once-looked-at-a-girl straight. Then Naomi Hartley, 6’1″ of dark-skinned, thick-thighed, Brooklyn-bred basketball goddess, body-checked me in the hallway and ruined me for every man on earth in three seconds flat.One collision. One raspy “baby girl.” One caramel-sweet kiss that tasted like the end of everything I thought I knew.Suddenly I’m the shy, nerdy freshman wearing her jersey in the bleachers, screaming myself hoarse while she drops thirty-foot daggers and winks at me like she already owns every inch of me. And she does.From stolen library orgasms to shower-stall worship, from rooftop proposals under Barcelona stars to mile-high reunions that fog entire airplane windows, Naomi Hartley teaches me exactly what my tongue was made for: her name, her clit, her forever.Enemies-to-lovers? We never hated each other. We just didn’t know we were soulmates until her mouth was between my thighs and I was speaking fluent lesbian in screaming, sobbing, squirting tongues.This is the filthy, funny, heart-shredding story of how one straight girl got posterized by love, learned that “baby girl” is a prayer and a promise, and discovered that some women don’t just steal your breath; they rewrite the entire way you breathe.Warning: extremely high heat, size-difference deliciousness, possessive Black domme energy, first-time everything, and enough devotion to make you genuinely believe in love. If you like your lesbian romance dripping wet, emotionally devastating, and laugh-out-loud real, one-click now and let Naomi Hartley wreck you too.