Author’s Note 1: These short fantasies started off as weekly mini-stories for my readers, but the newsletter was shut down because autoresponders do not accept adult content. I thus decided to publish these fantasies for free for my readers to enjoy. It is meant to entertain, so please do not leave hateful comments if everything is not perfect. I am only human after all.

Author’s Note 2: Although this fantasy can be read independently, it was written as part of a series. For full enjoyment, please read “The Barbie Lez Fantasies: Week 1-103”.

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Have you ever had one of those fantasies? You know, the ones that feel so real you begin to wonder if you are actually imagining them. Well, I do… because I have them all the time! Sometimes, they turn into a story, but mostly they remain trapped inside my brain. That is, until now…

I have two best friends. Lexi Lust and Sexxi Lexxi. For the longest time I managed to keep the perverse nature of my writing from them, but it was not meant to last. This is the story of how they discovered how I spend my days writing perverse stories of lesbianism, bestiality and incest.

My friends—their names are not really Lexi Lust and Sexxi Lexxi, but for the purposes of this story, that is how I will refer to them—and I had known each other since childhood. We were just about as close as three friends can be.

I know what you’re picturing—three beautiful young women having pillow fights in their underwear—but real life is seldom that perfect. As much as I would have loved to see my friends strip down to their bras and panties for a good old-fashioned pillow fight, it was not meant to be.

Over the years I was lucky enough to see them in nothing but their skivvies, yet that was as far as things ever got. They knew I was a lesbian and, though I seriously doubt they were afraid I would make a move on either one of them, they were always careful when disrobing in my presence. That left me with only one option. Fantasizing!

I have lost count of how many times I fantasized about my friends over the years, but the number must be up there with picturing myself sharing an intimate moment with a studly canine. When they first discovered the true nature of my writing, they bugged me for days, wanting to know which of my many published fantasies were about them.