Sapphic Liasions Ch. 01byLadySappho69©
Sapphic Liaisons 1 - Augusta
e-mail from Lady Jane to Dame Isabella Wordsworth, Principal of Somerville College, Oxford
Dearest Issy, what news!
I hope you are well in mind, spirit and especially body and that your life in stuffy old Oxford is not too unbearable! For my part, I am more than well, I am positively thrilled to overflowing. Things here in the intellectual backwater of Sussex - as I know your prejudiced view would have it - are really going well. I have an excellent group of students working hard and playing harder. They keep me buzzing with ideas, inspiration and …
… fantasies, which brings me to the point. For reasons all too obvious I had this idea for a little erotic story featuring a beautiful and inquisitive young astronomer - you can probably guess most of it already, but if you are in the least bit interested you'll find Astronomy on Literotica. Anyhow, the thing is, Literotica readers send one all sorts of feedback, from the frankly bizarre - one odd-case wrote criticising my grammar, which kind of missed the point, I thought - to the deliciously intimate. And by far the most wonderful of all the e-mails I have received, I kid you not one iota, is from Oxford's very own Augusta Harlow. How do I know? Well, along with some quite beautiful and precious words the darling lady sent me the most delightfully risqué photograph, as a present of her affection. Here's what she wrote:
"My Dearest Lady Sappho
I just had to write to tell you how much I enjoyed your story - and I mean really enjoyed it. The Jane and Helen love scene is simply gorgeous, while the seduction of young Zoe echoes a fantasy I suspect many women harbour.
Let me tell you a little about myself. I am 49 and for the most part not in the least bothered about turning 50 next Sunday. I have a husband and two daughters, each of whom I adore and feel so proud of every day. I have enjoyed a successful and stimulating career which continues to offer me fresh challenges every year. And I have a wide circle of friends and contacts to keep me young and amused.
I confess also to a wonderful and secretly satisfying passion - I adore fantasising about intimate and fulfilling love between emotionally literate women. Why do I only fantasize you might ask - well, that is perhaps the one question I cannot answer and so possibly the one regret that will follow me into my fifties. Then again, when I find literature as good as yours, my satisfaction is as deep and meaningful as any I have ever known or been able to imagine. I found something magical in your words - they seemed to caress and excite me, seemed to touch my emotions while stroking the most sensitive parts of my body.
I so hope you will be writing more. You must, for I just know you will have an expectant readership waiting to masturbate in a fresh stream of your words ... as do I. Have many women been so bold as to admit that? I have to say I am a little surprised by my own forthrightness, but then that is the measure of your art … which has just led me to the purest, most delicious orgasm. My whole body tingled as I climaxed, as if charged with loving electricity, while my pussy seemed to burst with warm, creamy come.
Oh what joy you have brought to my life, what freedom to my soul. I know this is a bold and risky act, but as a token of my endless gratitude for the magic in your words, I am attaching a photograph of me just as I am right now - your most devoted disciple … lead me where you will.
Lots of love
Isn't that just wonderful? Now, I know you two haven't exactly been close friends over the years - though I've always assumed that was somehow for show? I think the two of you have just been acting out the historic competition between Somerville and Lady Margaret Hall. Well, whatever, girls will be girls - the point is, you have to admit that your rival really is a most intriguing, adventurous and sexy lady - and who could resist such a combination? Not me, that's for sure! I'm going to write something special and private just for her, as a gift to ease her into her fifties with lust in her heart. I'll let you know what happens.
Love and kisses
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e-mail from Lady Sappho to Lady Blue-Stocking
Dearest Lady Blue-Stocking
Thank you so much for your wonderful e-mail, I am really quite overwhelmed by your appreciation of my story. Thank you also for sending me such a fabulous photograph of yourself. You are a quite beautiful lady and I am so very pleased - flattered indeed - that my words helped you find such pleasure (I am also deeply envious that you seem to have found the lingerie boutique from heaven, your purple and navy lace camisole and panties are divine, and as for your blue silk stockings …).
Opening windows to pleasure was my ambition with Astronomy. I wanted, in particular, to help my lady readers find that most exquisite of all womanly pleasures - an orgasm inspired by fantasies of Sapphic love. You ask whether many women have admitted finding such pleasure through my story and the answer is Yes, a number - but none, I must say, with greater poetry or candour than you. I would love to her more from you Lady Blue, hear more about the fantasies you dwell on when alone. Hear more about the way you make love to yourself. Do you undress slowly, imagining a lover's touch on your skin? Do you imagine that your fingers are stroking and caressing another woman's body, her breasts, her hips, her thighs? Do you fantasize about being watched …
When I was sixteen, during the long summer holiday home from school, I lost my heart and my inhibitions to a lady who had recently moved into our village. She was everything I wanted to be: elegant, attractive and independent. More than that, as I discovered by the most delightful accident, she was very much a free-spirit. The garden to her cottage backed onto some dense and dark woods, the privacy of which I had taken to using to explore my licentious fantasies. I had found a number of secret hideaways but, always curious, on this one afternoon I chanced upon another. Oh what a find. From a sleepy and hidden hollow I could see clearly into the lady's garden. From the first, as I watched unseen and unimagined, I was mesmerized by her. She was tending her flowers, clipping some, watering others, breathing the scent of some, caressing others. As she moved around her garden, delighting in all she saw, her long loose white dress seemed to float and dance like a cloud … until she stepped between me and the light, at which point the thin cotton seemed almost to disappear like a wisp revealing her delicious body naked beneath. Oh dearest Lady Blue, what else can I say - I was sixteen, she was maybe forty and quite the most luscious woman I had ever seen. There, hidden in the fringes of her garden, I leaned against a tree, closed my eyes and without a care for modesty or discretion, slipped my hand inside my shorts and panties and reached, within moments, the deepest climax I had then ever known. Just as you described it, orgasmic ripples continued to tingle through my body long after I came.
When I opened my eyes she was gone … but tomorrow is always another day. After a night and morning of quite obsessive longing I slipped back into the woods and hid in my spot. I waited an hour or so while the fierce heat drummed down into the lonely garden … and then she appeared, as if from nowhere, dressed this time in a short dress of faded orange. For a moment my heart missed a beat, I thought she must have seen me for she seemed to be walking right towards me. But then she stopped, knelt down and began to read from a book I had not even noticed she had with her. The book had a very plain cover so I have no idea what it was, but whatever it was it had a delicious effect. As she turned the pages she seemed to grow more excited - almost without noticing it herself her free hand began to caress her breasts till, no-longer oblivious to her sub-conscious desires, she slipped her fingers inside her dress and began to love herself tenderly. Reluctantly she removed her hand for a moment to turn the page and then slipped it back inside to ease the longing in her nipples once more. As I watched her, I copied her, slipping my hand inside my t-shirt and bra to caress my tender young bosom. Then, as she lifted her hand from her breasts and dropped it to her thighs, I did the same. And then, when she put her book down and pulled up her dress, I lifted my skirt … and seeing that she was naked beneath I hurriedly pushed down my panties so that I too could feel the breeze licking me as my fingers pleasured me.
That was the summer of my true awakening. Whilst I only saw her masturbate once more, I have never forgotten her, nor will I ever. Of course, I don't know what fantasies she was exploring, but I had no doubt about mine - I wanted not just to come with her, but for her. I fantasized that I one day she might be inspired to love herself while thinking of me, whilst knowing that the reality of watching her would inspire me for a life-time.
Imagine, Lady Blue, how many girls would be similarly inspired by such a vision of you. Must you always hide your passion? Imagine being that lady in the garden - and then go right on and be that lady … and then write and tell me how wonderful you felt.
Tell me also what you would do if I was there with you. I would love to be your Zoe, sat there on your desk right now in a skirt so short you can see the desire throbbing beneath my panties. Mmm, I want to come for you now dearest Lady … will you slip your hand up inside my skirt right now, feel the warm wetness of my pussy, run your knuckles between my tight labia up to my swollen clitoris … now press her and squeeze her for me Dear Lady, rub her gently at first … now more firmly … now more and more urgently till I burst with come for you …
… now sweetest Lady, unbutton your dress and slowly caress yourself, let your fingers slide up inside your lace camisole to love your breasts and then down inside your lace panties. Masturbate for me Lady Blue, let your fingers slide into the smooth soft slipperiness of your vulva, then up to your clitoris, tease and please her a moment and then drive your fingers back down to your waiting pussy … push your panties down, let the air dance around your warm wet jewel while you slip your fingers inside her … explore her desire and your own wantonness while imagining that your are being watched by someone who is excited beyond endurance by your passion …
Reply soon, lots of love
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e-mail from Lady Blue-Stocking to Lady Sappho
Darling Lady Sappho
Thank you so very much for your reply … oh what joy, what passion, what lust and ecstasy your honeyed words have brought me. Though I know you only by your nom de plume I feel more intimate and sexually liberated with you than with any woman I have ever known. Till now, the mistresses of all my Sapphic adventures have been imaginary - either characters in poems and stories or real women oblivious to the inspiration their grace and beauty has given erotic fantasies of my lustful invention. With each of these virtual lovers I have found real physical pleasure. With confident alacrity I have masturbated for them in the privacy of my study, come as they massaged perfumed oils into my skin after my bath and slept naked with them when my husband was away. But, in the past hour or so, guided by your loving spirit, I have masturbated with more wanton desire and fulfilling delight than I had ever imagined could be possible.
You, my sweet angel, had been in my mind all day, as a private consolation during a dull symposium I attended in London, then as a delicious temptation on the journey home. As the train left Paddington I closed my eyes and relived the passions and desires you explored in Astronomy. Knowing that I would have the house to myself all evening, I spent my time on the train delighting in the lustful longings that warmed my body and flourished in my pussy. Then, as I closed the front door behind me I sensed magic in the air - I just knew there would be a reply from you waiting in my in-box. My hands were shaking with anticipation as I waited impatiently for the computer to shake off its stand-by lethargy. My heart started to pound with expectation the moment I saw your name amongst my new messages. I made myself comfortable at my desk, unbuttoned my blouse, unfastened my slacks and hit 'open'.
As I read your opening words I slipped my hand down inside my cream silk panties, letting my fingers dance through my trimmed bush while blushing at your appreciation of the photograph I sent. As you spoke of the exquisite pleasure you find in masturbating to fantasies of Sapphic love, I let my fingers slide down into the softness of my vulva, my flesh already warm and sticky from the hour I had spent thinking of women-only love on the train. I stroked myself calmly, gently, tenderly, while imagining that somewhere you would be doing the same, maybe even doing so with my photograph on the screen before you. Then, giving way to the irresistible temptation to imagine you as a sixteen year old girl, confident of her desires and generous with her affection, I began to caress and excite myself with greater purpose. Oh angel, I was feeling so wanton already. Quickly, I scrolled down the page so as to release my free hand, which I let caress my breasts inside my cream silk camisole while the fingers inside my panties began to tease and please my clitoris with greater urgency. Rolling my sweet bud lovingly between finger and thumb I felt her swell with ardour and engorge with want - her pulse quickened still more as I twisted a fingertip inside her folds, parting her petals.
Closing my eyes I imagined myself watching your elegantly attractive lady reading from some forbidden book in the presumed privacy of her garden, her hands gliding absent-mindedly over her delicious body, caressing her breasts, stroking her thighs, enjoying the curve of her hips and the softness of her bottom until, totally inflamed, she lifts the hem of her short orange dress to let me watch her play with her juicy naked pussy. With that image in mind I began to rub myself more ardently, more zealously, more lustfully, wanting myself so, wanting to make myself come with free and licentious abandon.
Still picturing that lady masturbating with assured dissipation, displaying her sumptuousness for my delectation, I began to imagine also myself doing the same for you. I wanted to move beyond coming while thinking of other women. I wanted to be Lady Blue for you. I wanted to offer myself to you shamelessly, I wanted to cuckold my dear sweet husband by surrendering my body to your every command and demand. Oh it was so wonderful, heavenly … my nipples grew hard and dissolute, my pussy began to cream impiously … and my mind began to swirl with unrestrained joy, knowing that I was about to enjoy the ecstasy of coming ravenously with and for another woman.
Then, suddenly, I was filled with inhibiting anxiety and unwanted fear. Trying to overcome these negative thoughts I began to masturbate with greater urgency and intensity, tried to drive myself on to the climax I so craved, tried to force my way past the demons of misplaced virtue to reach you in the garden of Sapphic delights. Yet, the harder and more vigorously I rubbed and twisted my aching clitoris, the further away my orgasm slipped. For an agonising minute or more I had to concentrate intensely on willing calmness back into my body and confidence back into my mind. Stroking myself more tenderly now, I willed a return of the unashamed lesbian desire with which I had made myself come so many times before.
Then, as quickly as anxiety had tried to keep me away from Sapphic fulfilment, so it admitted complete defeat. Unrestrained once more I was free to caress and please my clitoris with all the practised loving skill I have accumulated since I discovered the joys of masturbation in my mid-teens. Exploring once more my mind's every longing, my body surrendered afresh to a glorious, delicious and unchaste desire to come. Oh my sweetest Lady, such an orgasm I had. Scintillating tremors coursed through me as the climax built inside. Like a volcano ready to erupt I quivered and moaned. Dirtily, believing you to be with me, I begged you to take me, to use me for your own pleasure and to guide me to mine. Then, like a river breaking its banks, like a sunflower bursting pollen, like lava finding freedom, I came … magnificently - more powerfully and more incessantly than I can ever recall, panting and crying with ecstatic joy as my whole body quivered with the unalloyed delight. As I slowly calmed, as my breathing slowed, as my pussy began to throb with reduced intensity, I cried a few tears of joy for knowing that I had crossed that subtle line that separates the appreciation of lesbian love and genuine immersion in love between women. And for that, dearest Lady, I shall be forever in your debt.
Euphoric now, I quickly re-read your e-mail, committing every word to memory. Then, encouraged by your words I determined to share my passion. Standing, I slipped off my shoes and slacks and skipped lightly out into the garden and down to a summer house that catches the last of the evening sun. As I sat in my favourite rattan armchair I eased my panties down my thighs and, kicking them onto the lawn with an audacious flourish, sat back and let the sun's rays kiss my pussy while my hands slipped inside my camisole to caress my breasts and nipples. Sensing that your spirit was with me, if not your presence, I closed my eyes, opened my legs and slipped my hands down to my waiting sex. She was so warm, so juicy, so responsive, so eager for more pleasure. I let my fingertips dance lightly along my labia for a while, teasing and tempting myself, delighting in the tingles that filled my lower body, delighting also in the wanton desire filling my mind.
For a tender moment I held my pussy lips open for the sun to lick and taste before hungrily pushing two fingers inside. I made love to myself with an immodest passion. Holding my thighs wide apart with my free hand, I drove my fingers in and out of my succulent hole - effortlessly, they slid between my oily lips into the hot, deep wetness of my vagina. I felt so sexy, so alive, so unrestrained - every nerve in my body was wantonly excited. Knowing I was about to come with staggering force I slipped a third finger inside and took myself the way infatuated lovers do. I cried out uninhibitedly as my orgasm burst, careless who might overhear. My pussy seemed to explode, sending powerful ripples of ecstasy all through my body. Warm creamy come oozed through my fingers, into my palm, onto my thighs. Opening my eyes I looked down in wonder on the fabulous potency of my sex, smiling proudly at the way her sticky-wet lips refused to release my fingers. Milking the last wave of orgasm I twisted my fingers slowly inside myself, teasing and pleasing the sensitive walls of my vagina before easing them free and rushing them to my mouth.
With my legs still wide apart to welcome the sun into my pussy once again, I drank my come down, savouring every sweet sticky drop, licking my fingers with a lasciviousness born of a long-harboured fantasy of being able to pleasure myself with my own tongue. I stroked myself languorously for a few minutes whilst watching flowers swaying gently in the breeze, watching birds hunting their final feed of the day, watching the sun go down over the trees. As I did so, I felt you with me, my enchantress, my temptress and my mistress. Lead me where you will, I had entreated in my first e-mail and your reply took me to Sapphic heaven.