214 lines
13 KiB
Plaintext
214 lines
13 KiB
Plaintext
SAPPHO
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-by Sarah Jahn
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I looked at her studying on my bed, from my place at my desk. Every
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week she came over, sometimes more often. I thought it was a ruse
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to get to flirt but I wasn't going to bring it out into the open. It
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was more enjoyable to just enjoy her company and conversation as she
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gave it. We had been friends for over two years. This past year we had
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gotten much closer, each of us telling the other things we had never
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told friends before. Since a few months ago, the teasing we often used
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with each other had become more and more sexual. I wasn't sure what
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to think, as she smiled and touched my arm while she flirted. It was
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always in front of others, in public, so it was safe for her.
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Watching her bent over her book, reading so intently she didn't notice
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me staring, I wondered how she really felt. I had been having dreams
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lately that I woke from disturbed and excited...
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Just last night I had dreamed I was dancing with a woman, dressed in
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heels, skirt, blouse, and surreally, a black feather boa. We had circled
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each other, gradually moving closer, then she was pulling me to her. I
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pressed my hips against hers, as she pushed me back upon the couch behind
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me. I sat abruptly, and she moved between my legs, rubbing against me,
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still kissing me deeply. Dazed, I moved my left leg behind her, difficult
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because of the skirt I wore. It slipped up my thighs and she ran her hands
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up to my bare hips, grinding herself against me. I felt myself getting wet,
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warmth flowing inside me. Our mouths opened further, I moaned as she
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slipped her hand into me, her tongue sliding into my mouth as sensually
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as her fingers touched me. Then I was awake, confused and more than a little
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alarmed. I remembered her dark curly long hair, piled on top of her head,
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soft spiralled curls floating down over her ears, and blushed lips.
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I whispered, gay? Me? At the least, the thought of sex with a woman excited
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me, or my subconscious. The more I thought about it, sitting in that dimly lit
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room, with the Christmas lights glowing at the steamy window, I realized I
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relished the idea.
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I got up, throwing the sheets aside, and went to the window.
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I leaned my forehead against the window, watching my breath condense on
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the icy glass. Looking at the white birches far below, I shivered. They
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swayed back and forth like dancers to a beat I couldn't hear,
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beckoning to me. I opened the window, letting in the freezing air. The
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breeze carried in the scent of wet earth and snow and old leaves, whipping
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the papers scattered on my desk around. The hills were almost black in
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the distance, distinquished from the sky that was full of brilliant
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stars shining above. I stared out the window, losing myself in the cold
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breeze that blew over my flushed skin. After becoming aware that I was
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shivering, I leaned out and drew the window handle to me, shutting it.
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Getting back into bed, I felt a wetness between my thighs, and reached
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down to see what it was. My hand came back glistening clearly in the soft
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colored light. I lifted one finger to my lips and tasted it. With the
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residue of salt on my lips, I leaned back and shut my eyes. What would
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another woman taste like? I wondered. I imagined putting my hands on soft
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breasts, nipples asking to be mouthed, then stroking down along a rounded
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stomach, beside the dimple of the navel... Into the curve between strong
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thighs, my fingers surrounded by curling dark hair, into a familiar yet
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strange wetness and warmth, a body breathing and arching under my gestures.
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As my mind drew me into this imaginary experience, I let my own hand pull
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up my nightgown, bunching up the fabric above my breasts to reveal my
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arousement.
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The coolness of my searching fingers made my nipples darker, harder. I
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felt the echo of the swelling I summoned deeper inside and drew in a
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small shallow breath. In my mind, I moved down further on the bed, my lips
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tracing the curves of the anonymous woman beneath me. I didn't see her
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face, only the light breaking over her body, the shadows as mysterious as
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her sex. I caressed her body, feeling the ladder of ribs under her taut
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fair skin, their rising and falling increasing with my attention. I bent
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my mouth to the intersection of her, my hands smoothing over her thighs,
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lowering to taste her as she let her thighs drift apart. I looked
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surreptiously at the rose-colored folds and the glistening hair above them,
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sliding her open further with my hands, to see the wetness gathered there.
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Her scent reminded me of musk and vaguely of the sea. I tasted it on
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my tongue, feeling my own body respond to her low moans. I brought her
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smooth calves above my shoulders, and let her responses guide my movements.
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Under my lips, I felt her fervered skin tremble, her legs shudder in my
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arms. Her head was thrown back, her breath coming in gasps. She had
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thrown her arms back behind her, and was grasping the bedframe, quivering up
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and crying out more and more. I savored her movements and taste, each moan
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bringing me intense enjoyment. In my own bed, I bit down on my bottom lip
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to choke back my loud groan of release, corresponding to her orgasm in
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my imagination. My eyes squeezed closed, then I opened them with a sigh,
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relaxing again into the warmth of the covers. Sleep came quickly, and
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I dreamed of things and people that disappeared from my mind as I woke
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the next morning, but left me with a sense of unfulfilled desire. I didn't
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remember any more scenes with the dark-haired woman.
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I went through classes as usual, but in the back of my mind was a new
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undercurrent that rose up every so often to remind me of my leanings. I
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passed women on the way to lecture halls who returned my gaze, and in
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their eyes I saw they knew it was not out of friendliness that I looked
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at them, and that the curiousity was returned. Walking around campus was
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now filled with sly glances and blushes, not all mine. I smiled thinking
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about it, pretending I was listening to a lecture about linguistics. The
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professor misinterpreted my small smile and half closed eyes, and
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looked at me bewildered but with his own smile. This amused me more. My
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smile got bigger. Classes went on and on, and now I was looking at my
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study partner in my room.
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She flipped a page in her thick hardcover book, mulling over the literature
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of the 1800's. I reached behind my stereo to pull out a cassette, and
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inserted it into the machine. Pressing "Play", I knew the music would
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disturb her and knew also that was why I was doing it. I wanted to talk.
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As the first notes started up, she looked up from reading questioningly. I
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smiled and asked "Do you mind taking a study break for a few minutes? My
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notes are starting to look like secret code."
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"No, no I don't mind at all. You have any soda left? My throat is killing
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me from that cigerrette."
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"Yeah, coke or ginger ale. Which do you like?" I bent to open the fridge,
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waiting for her reply.
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"Ginger ale."
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I picked out the plastic bottle and poured some into a mug. The foam crept
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over the side, I dipped my finger to it and wiped it off, and absentmindedly
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sucked the liquid off my finger. I looked up to see her looking at me oddly.
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Actually oddly was not quite the right word. It seemed more like a realization
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surfacing. Of what I wasn't sure. I got up from the chair and handed the
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cup to her, turning it so she could grab the handle. Instead of taking it
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that way though, she let her hand slip over mine. I stood there by the
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bed, holding this cup, unsure of what exactly to do next. I smiled nervously,
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my tongue moistening my lips. She let her hand linger a moment longer, enough
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so I was now painfully aware of her body heat and the subtle softness of her
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fingertips pressing into my hand. She took the mug and took a sip, keeping
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her eyes on my face. I didn't sit back down immediately but paused, watching
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her. As her tongue darted out and licked the rim, curving around the edge,
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I realized the rather unpleasant sensation of my heart racing, and my
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palms getting moist. Oh God, I was so unsure. Maybe it was just my deranged
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mind that was misinterpreting her actions, I didn't want to make an
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absolute fool of myself and lose her friendship. She held my eye, and
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licked her lips, mimicking me. She stretched her arm out and put the cup
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down on my desk, then rearranged her body on the bed, so she was sitting
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there cross-legged, hands under her chin.
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"Why don't you sit on the bed? Standing there doesn't look too comfortable."
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Unthinking, I climbed up on my own bed, and sat next to her. She kept her
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body angled away, then reached out again, this time to grab her book and
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open it back up to where she had stopped. Her hair fell forward, hiding
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her profile. I looked at her sitting there, at her bright hair flowing over
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her shoulders, revealing the pale skin at the back of her neck, and the
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hem of her shirt, that curved down closely over her torso. Before I could
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think about what I was doing, I had leaned forward and reached up to turn
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her face to mine and was kissing her deeply. Inwardly shocked at myself,
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I reached down and pushed her book away. She didn't protest, but instead
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pulled me closer. Her mouth, tongue, smell, hair, breasts, were all I
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knew. My hands were under her shirt, pulling it up, over her head, tousling
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her glossy hair. She lifted her arms to the ceiling as I unclasped her bra,
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stroking the topography of her back as I did so. The lace and nylon bit
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was thrown to the floor along with her shirt, and soon the rest of her clothes
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were there too.
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Her lips turned up into a secretive smile, looking at me, sitting on the
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blanket casually, her legs open.
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"So, do you like what you see?" she whispered, then leaned to me.
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The next time I opened my eyes, I was naked too. She embraced me, and
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lowered me to the bed. We lay side by side, feeling the warmth of each
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other's bodies down the edges of our hips and ribs. My hand trailed over
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her ribs, into the valley of her waist, then up over her hip, down her
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thigh. At my touch, she turned to face me and opened her legs, letting one
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dangle over the edge of the mattress.
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She was as excited as I was, I soon discovered. I held my breath
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as I touched her, gingerly pushing a finger into her, letting the heat and
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moisture take me in. I put in another, and stroked her rhythmically,
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watching her rock back and forth against my hand. Something was warming in
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me, I felt myself loosening up. I bent over her prostrate body to take
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in a nipple. I took it into my mouth, sucking it gently then harder,
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increasing the pressure to a light bite that she shivered at, letting out
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a quiet drawn out "yes". I sucked at her like a baby, feeling her getting
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harder between my lips. I moved my hand out, slick with her wetness,
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caressing her lips, up to her center, then down again, then up, liberally
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covering her. I let my fingers slide to the top of the folds, and frigged
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the nub lightly.
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She shuddered hard and pushed down towards me. She had spread herself out
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fully on the bed, her mouth opening to draw in breath then close into a
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tight line to suppress moans. Her cheeks were flushed pink, heightening the
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whiteness of the rest of her face. I pushed myself lower over her, then
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pulled her legs apart, holding a calf in each hand, feeling the muscles in
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them tense as I sucked her. She had abandoned all pretense at modesty, and
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was now moaning openly. I loved the sound. She pushed herself up against me,
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trying to get me to give in to her demand for instant sastifaction. I felt
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myself sliding down towards the end of the bed, along with the quilt and
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blanket. Regaining my position, I forced her back up, and paused to smile
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at her. Frustrated, she growled and said sternly "I wouldn't start a job
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then leave it unfinished if I were you."
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I laughed, and responded by nipping her. She squealed, then quieted
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again as I resumed. The slickness on my lips had spread to my chin, bringing
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up disjointed memories of Thanksgiving turkey dinner. I pushed these away,
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concentrating on the sounds filling the tiny dorm room. As I did, I felt
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a sympathetic wetness between my thighs, as I moved closer to her. My skin
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dragged on itself, pulling the sensitive folds back and forth. I gasped,
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tightening my grasp on her legs. I closed my eyes and forced myself to
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concentrate on her alone. She was now moving regularly to meet me, the
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movement of her and taste was increasing to a climatic point. Her shriek did
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not go unnoticed, by me, or I'm sure, by my suitemates.
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Her orgasm was glorious, matching her expression. She quivered, then relaxed,
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drawing herself up, to take me into her arms and hold me. I kissed her
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lightly on the mouth, letting her taste herself. She licked my lips and
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smiled, drawing me down with her to the bed. I closed my eyes, and let myself
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go to her attentions....
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The End
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