An Introduction to Sappho

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An unexpected introduction to the sapphic ways.
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Beats thumped from the sound system set up in the lounge. It was some mix of electronica that Claire hadn't heard before and was pretty sure she didn't want to hear again. The plastic cup she held in her hand was supposed to have just soda in it, but it currently was filled most of the way to the brim with a sweet mix of vodka and soda into which someone had dumped a handful of coloured candy. The result was a rainbow coloured sweet cocktail that she was fairly sure she had never seen or tasted before. Claire didn't drink beer, and she was fairly sure that she didn't drink a lot of spirits, either. That particular milestone had been several hours ago and she was currently swimming in a happy haze that was going to be quite painful in the morning. At least she was already home, so it wasn't going to be a very far crawl.

All around her, the sounds of a reasonably happy house party were mixing with the shouted conversations of those nearby. Someone was reliving some sporting glory from years gone by; another group trying to recall snatches of a forgotten weekend, but failing hilariously. All those little snippets were lost to the room when she overheard one of her close friends, Samantha, admit that she found the female form more attractive than the male, and loved nothing more than the feel of another woman's body against hers.

At the time, Claire was engaged in a conversation with some random guy that was going nowhere. Because of the limited space available to them, she was pressed back-to-back with Samantha, and when she said she loved the feel of another woman, Claire could swear that Samantha pressed harder into her. It was enough, combined with what she had overheard, to make her forget all about the conversation, her drink, and the guy standing in front of her.

They were somewhere in the midst of a completely forgettable line of conversation, but Claire stopped dead in her tracks, completely stunned into silence.

Eventually, with no response coming from her, the guy moved on to another group, shaking his head at the random chicks that were at this party.

Claire didn't even notice, still lost in her thoughts. She had always suspected there was something a little bit special about Samantha; it had been years since she had seen her with a partner, though everyone suspected that she'd had at least one in that timeframe. Perhaps she was just a very private person. The pressure against her back suddenly lessened as Samantha realised that someone was pressed into her, and that the same someone hadn't moved since she had finished her conversation.

Samantha turned around and hugged Claire.

"I take it you were there the whole time?" she asked, a little bashfully.

Claire didn't answer; she was still processing the shock of what she had heard.

"Did something surprise you?" She cooed.

"Umm, I think so," was all that Claire could reply.

"That wasn't the way I planned on telling you, and certainly not here. I hope you can accept that."

"Look, I really don't know how to take what I've heard, let alone what any of it means." Confusion was starting to be replaced by questions. "I mean — how, who, what, where, when, why? Most of all, why?"

"Okay, since the why seems so important to you, I'll address it first, but I really want to do this privately. How about we move this conversation somewhere a little more secluded, like the balcony upstairs?"

It was a fair suggestion; the only people who had been seeking out the balcony so far were couples seeking a bit of privacy. Once upstairs, the need to yell the conversation disappeared.

Samantha took Claire's hand and gave it a helpful squeeze. "I'll give you all the answers you want, just please respect my choice."

"You're still my friend. That's not going to change because you like girls more than guys — or even instead of guys. What about the boyfriends you had in the past?"

They pushed through the French doors to the balcony and found a relatively quiet spot where they wouldn't be disturbed.

"I thought you were more interested in the why, but since it's the last thing you asked, my boyfriends were all wonderful. I've just moved along from them; I've found something that I enjoy more."

Rather than answer, Claire took a much-needed hit of her drink that she still held in her free hand — she was beginning to feel that she would be needing something much stronger before they got through this conversation.

"Okay, since I'm the one talking, I'll address your questions as you asked them." Samantha stared out into the darkness to compose herself before actually commencing with the reply.

"How is easy enough. My partner and I at the time had been joking about a threesome, when he suggested we actually do it. Not knowing what I was getting in for, I agreed, if only to watch him squirm and sweat trying to sort it out. Sort it out he did, though, and one wonderful evening a couple of years back, we had a fateful ménage à trois. I don't remember her name, only that it started out simple enough, a bit of social lubricant, a little bit of kissing and awkward groping. She knew what she was doing and he was getting really into it. I wasn't so sure, but as the evening went along, I ended up coming a number of times, so that's a success in one aspect.

"It was only at the end, watching him come all over her face that I realised he hadn't touched me at all. It turned out, later, that he'd been wanting to fuck her for some time and wasn't game enough to cheat in the normal fashion. What we didn't know was that it unlocked something inside me. A secret desire suddenly burst into life. I agreed to another few ménages, but as the two of them paid more attention to each other than me, it wasn't much longer before I got rid of the both of them. At no time was he touching me — and, at the end, he wasn't allowed to, but I still came healthily and easily. It was exhilarating."

Claire was amazed at Samantha's openness and forthrightness. If the rest of her answers were like this, it would make an even more interesting night.

"Who — well, I never bothered to learn her name. I could label her a slut for taking my partner from me, but I have to thank her for opening me to another world of pleasure. Since then, I've had a handful of partners, some for as few as a couple of weeks, and others for months. The difficult thing is that because I am still fairly new to this part of sexuality, I haven't quite worked out the keepers from the one night stands, short flings, or fuck buddies."

Samantha paused for a quick drink from Claire's cup and continued: "What — well, that's easy enough. Sex. Without a guy. It doesn't always have to be sex. There are some partners I know of who probably have never had sex, but are in a dedicated lesbian relationship. It's the companionship and deep emotional love that binds them.

"Where. I've had a live-in partner only once since turning lesbian, and that was for a few weeks before we discovered some irreconcilable differences. It does make clearing out the bathroom cabinet more difficult in a breakup after having a live-in relationship. Most of the time, it's only one or two nights at each other's place. I generally spend my time at home by myself. In fact, if you can recall a small party I had six months ago, my partner at the time was there. I just introduced her as a friend from summer vacations when we were younger. And, yes, when we disappeared early, it was to go and fuck each other's brains out. It didn't last much longer after that, though."

Claire continued to stare dumbly, recalling the mental images of the woman in question. She had been quite attractive, if she remembered correctly, and Claire wouldn't have immediately thought she was a lesbian.

"When. I think I've covered that already. Why. Well, to be honest, I don't really understand why. I don't know many lesbians who can definitively say why, either. Or, at least, many who will openly tell me. I think I just found that I liked female companionship, both in and out of the bedroom, better than the male companionship on offer, and went with it.

"I know that no one knows if I have a partner or not and, to tell the truth, at the moment I don't. For now, I'm on my own."

"But what's it like?" Claire asked, peering into her drink, bemused. Perhaps the alcohol had taken over, but there was an intrigue in the back of her mind, an itch that it seemed was only going to be scratched by another woman.

"Well, it's kind of like sex with a guy, but there's no risk of razor burn from the kisses. There's one less dick — well, one less that is attached to the asshole behind it. There's another clitoris." Samantha ticked the items off on her fingers as she went. "There's another set of real tits, that respond properly to stimulation — not the crappy male equivalent. The oral's exactly how you want it, and how you want to give it. There's no mess afterwards. You can use toys on the other person without it being weird. There's only anal if you really want it. Sleeping afterwards is simple — there's no hairy ass farting its way through the night, and there's no wet spot you'll be made to sleep in."

Claire was about to take the gap in Samantha's monologue to ask a question, but she'd been stunned into silence.

"Oh, and if you want a guy's come in you, there's always turkey basters." Samantha was now done, and sat there smiling at Claire, who was running through it all in her mind, trying to make sense of what Samantha had said.

"Uh... is that true?" Finally, her mind had caught up to her mouth.

"Well, all except the turkey basters, but I'm sure there's some lesbians out there—" She gestured out over the balcony. "—who're using them like that, or even just to play with, but I've never seen the need yet. There is no exact replacement for a hard cock inside you and being fucked by a guy. It's different, but something I can do without for now. I do miss it a little, but it's another world of experience that I am going through at the moment."

That reply didn't help Claire's processing of everything, and she sat there in silence again.

"You really don't need a dick or a vibrator to make things happen," Samantha offered, trying to be helpful.

It was a little distressing for Claire. Rather than answer, she looked off into the distance as she mulled things over.

"Umm..."

"Yes?"

"I, uh, don't know about it all. Why are you telling me all this?"

"Well, you did ask." That part was true. "Plus, I'm your friend — at least, I was before tonight. As my friend, you should know that I'm not interested in guys for now."

"Thanks. I guess. It's a lot to process. I think there's some stuff I need to work through, first. You're still my friend. I'm not going to kick you to the kerb just because you can no longer be trusted in the gym change room."

"It's not like that. I don't see a woman and think to myself that I want to fuck her. Just because there's no guy in the equation, it doesn't mean that one of us has to think like them."

Samantha paused. Something momentous was in the air, and it seemed that the universe was holding its breath to see what happened next. She put her hand over the top of Claire's and squeezed gently. What came next was almost in a whisper.

"Well, there is at least one person who I do look at like that, who doesn't know that I think of them that way. I have seen them naked and it hurt me so much that I couldn't be with them at the time. It's hurt me every time I've seen them since I became a lesbian."

Claire's heart melted at Samantha's plight.

"At least, they didn't know until I told them tonight."

Samantha stopped and looked Claire evenly in the eyes.

Claire could see she was vulnerable. Claire was having her own problems to deal with, though.

Her heart had stopped melting. In fact, it had stopped completely. Was Samantha coming on to her? In the midst of everything else going on? Was the object of Samantha's affections her? Fear and panic were dominant emotions, but a flame of desire was sparked.

Confusion reigned on Claire's face for a little bit, but gradually the desire teamed up with compassion and concern for her friend and her face softened. She smiled, pulled Samantha in, and kissed her on the forehead.

"I think that they know, now. And they're honoured that you see them in that way." Claire took a breath, this next bit was going to be difficult. "If I've got it right, they have never considered anything like that before, but you've opened their mind." Her heart was racing, now. Nerves and a little bit of passion were running her body. There was no conscious control at the moment.

Samantha leaned in as if she was going to kiss Claire's cheek in thanks — but, at the last second, she adjusted her trajectory and seized Claire's earlobe in her teeth. She bit down gently, pushing her tongue up against the section of earlobe in her mouth, and closed her lips, hiding the display. She pulled back, with just enough pressure to make sure there was no hiding her broader intent, and she hoped that Claire would be receptive.

"Look, if you're so interested, let's go find your room, and I can show you in person."

Claire's mouth was still half-pursed, waiting to reciprocate the kiss on the cheek that never came. As soon as Samantha released her earlobe, it all changed; her mouth dropped open in a reflexive moan, her eyes rolled back, and her knees unlocked. Samantha hadn't quite been ready for this response, but she quickly caught her and pressed her close. Their contours didn't fit together like male and female, but they fit well enough that each could feel the other's heartbeat quicken.

Samantha was still waiting for her answer and was searching Claire's eyes, looking for the answer in the unfocussed eyes that stared back at her.

"Unnh, mmm," groaned Claire as she sank further into Samantha's arms

"So, do you want me to show you?"

Claire couldn't muster more than a whisper. "That would be nice."

Since there was no one else on the balcony paying any attention to them, Samantha didn't mind openly helping Claire back inside and along the upper hall to her room. The noise of the party filtered up from below, happy and boisterous. It was the perfect cover for any noises that Claire would soon be making.

Samantha wasn't about to challenge Claire's sexuality, or have anyone else questioning it, but it was always nice to have cover when people explored. Once they were both safely in Claire's room, Samantha locked the door with a soft click; now they were unlikely to be unpleasantly surprised. The risk of discovery from the party below was a real one and hastened her heartbeat. Claire looked not to care and sat herself down on the edge of her bed to compose herself. She pulled Samantha down to sit on the edge of the bed with her and leaned in to hug her. Samantha returned the favour with one arm.

Her other hand began slowly unbuttoning Claire's blouse. As her hand passed Claire's cleavage, she gently trailed her fingers over Claire's mounded breasts. It was obvious Claire had dressed sexily for the evening, but Samantha knew she was not the catch Claire had thought she was going after.

Claire nuzzled into Samantha's neck in response to the touch. She was dreamy, aroused, but not really paying attention to her environment. Samantha quickly undid the rest of the buttons, and her own, and helped Claire out of her blouse. As it cleared the arm held around her, Samantha removed hers in the same motion, acting smoothly so as to not break the building mood.

Samantha moved her rear hand gently down Claire's back, to the top of the zip holding her short skirt up. Deftly, she released the clasp at the top of it and slid the zip all the way down. Looking over to check on her progress, Samantha was rewarded with a beautiful view of Claire's minuscule underwear hugging her ass. Allowing her fingers to linger at the base of the zip, she stole a quick feel of the tight ass cheeks Claire was sitting on. Her other hand was also busy, shifting down Claire's front to the top of her skirt. With the zip now undone, it was a simple matter of sliding her fingers inside, searching for the top of her underwear.

Samantha's hand descended a lot further than she'd expected to have to. Claire was certainly leaving no doubt about what she had planned for. Well, Samantha was sure she wasn't going to disappoint her. The other discovery from the descent down the front of the skirt was that Claire was smooth. Not even a hint of peach fuzz; she was clean, neat, and tidy. That encouraged Samantha. This was even better than she had expected. Yes, Claire was who she had been longing for, and now it was turning out that she was everything she had hoped, physically. Soon, she would be able to find out if she was everything Samantha had been hoping for sexually, as well.

A gentle lift from the hand under her buttocks got Claire to raise herself half off the bed, and her skirt was quickly pushed to the floor. The helping hands disappeared as Samantha undid, then shimmied out of, her jeans.

They were both down to their underwear now, Claire in her matching black set, Samantha's in white.

Samantha stopped.

"If you really don't want to go through with this, we can stop. I don't want to take advantage of you because you've been drinking. You're a very attractive woman, and I have long felt physically attracted to you, but I really don't want to be taking advantage of you. We can stop here, get dressed, and leave — nothing has happened." She looked intently at Claire.

Claire paused, looking directly back at her. The pause became longer and, when Samantha deemed it had gone on long enough, she stood up.

"Okay, then. I'm sorry to have done this to you. Not everyone is receptive to it. Please don't think any less of me for having tried." She moved to gather up her clothes when Claire stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"No."

Samantha looked at her, waiting for whatever came next.

"Don't be sorry for it."

Ah, that was it; oh, well, nothing gained, nothing lost.

Claire continued. "I'm sober enough to make my own decisions. I'm also drunk enough to overcome the inhibitions that would stop me from trying this at any other time. If you want me, I don't know if you'll ever get another chance, especially if we stop now." That last part was true. The moment they'd entered Claire's room, their relationship had changed forever. "Take me. Show me what you know. Show to me the wonder that is this side of lovemaking."

With that, Claire guided Samantha's hand up to her chest, resting it for a second in her cleavage before encouraging it inside the cup of her bra.

Samantha leaned in to kiss Claire's cheek, thinking it probably wouldn't do to kiss her on the lips just yet — but Claire turned her head and took the kiss on the lips, giving enough encouragement to Samantha to actually start plying the breast in her hand. Claire reached behind herself and undid the bra clasp, dropping it to the floor to mix with the other clothes. Now free, her breasts bounced to their normal fullness, and before they could bounce back, each was captured by one of Samantha's hands, which slowly began to knead, cup, caress, and shape them, stopping by the nipple occasionally to remind Claire that there was more to stimulation of her breasts than just her nipples.

The attention to her breasts was unexpected, but it was certainly wanted. Claire didn't know quite what to make of the sensations. They were all pleasurable, and they were beginning to find a response between her legs. Her little V-string was now stuck to her, her lips opening up nicely from the arousal Samantha was awakening in her.

The kisses were a little weird. Claire knew she was kissing a female, but to have passion like that in those kisses felt a little bit out of place. It was by no means unpleasant. Far from it. It was arousing and engaging — but, still, it felt out of place.

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