Past Loves Ch. 10: Bea and Harriet

10: London, Kingdom of Great Britain: April, AD1851

Beatrice and Harriet

A little over a month since its doors opened and it was still nearly impossible to get tickets for the Great Exhibition. The queue for open tickets ran nearly two streets back from the Crystal Palace at the centre of Hyde Park. And no wonder, for the newspapers had been filled with reports of the incredible, never-before-seen marvels inside. Exhibits such as Frederick Bakewell's amazing image telegraph, or the Koh-i-Noor, the world's largest diamond, or George Merryweather's Tempest Prognosticator.

Thankfully for Beatrice Bowles and Harriet Yuletree, they had managed to acquire tickets several months ago. As Beatrice had always had a knack for mathematics, statistics and business acumen, she had taken to balancing the books of several local and national businesses under a male pseudonym. It brought her amusement to know that even in a world dominated by the male sex, she was still able to skirt around their assertion that such tasks were the purview of men, simply by corresponding entirely through post. This work had also bought her important and powerful contacts, through which she was able to gain two tickets to the Great Exhibition, again all via letters.

And so, Miss Beatrice Bowles, well known local spinster, old maid, and sadly unmarried woman of twenty-seven walked through the doors of the Great Exhibition accompanied by her stalwart friend and companion, Miss Harriet Yewtree. The two women held hands comfortably as they pressed through the crowd around the entrance while the voices of the assembled masses echoed off the high glass ceiling above them.

As they moved along the maze-like paved paths of the inside of the colossal greenhouse, Beatrice and Harriet continually brushed off the numerous glances and side-eyes which were flicked in their direction by all around them. They were used to such glances, the sight of two unaccompanied women walking hand-in-hand was not common, but by no means unheard of on the streets of London. Mostly what the glances conveyed were looks of either pity or sadness. 'There go two more spinsters', the looks said, 'Two sad lonely women without husbands. At least they have each other, it's so important for such unfortunate creatures to have friends without a family to dote on.'

Such looks always made Beatrice smirk quietly to herself, and forced Harriet to stifle a giggle with a delicate gloved hand. Despite the magnificent achievements of the Empire of Industry and the myriad advances in science and technology, these stuffy, prudish men still could not get through their starched white brains the concept that two women, young and beautiful in their own rights, could find everything they needed in each other. That every night, the two of them went home together, gently undressed one another and laid together in the same bed. A bed that was sometimes filled with cries of glorious passion and ecstasy, and other times sweet and tender moments of quiet contentment, and everything in between.

- - -

Beatrice looked back at Harriet as she led her gently through the crowd and smiled a deep satisfied smile as she gazed on the gorgeous face of her paramour and lover. The look was reflected back at her sparkling blue eyes and the pretty smile of Harriet, who blew a quiet, secret kiss to her. Harriet was the shorter of the two, her celtic bloodline had given her a beautiful mane of long amber hair which flowed all the way down to her waist when let free. Currently this hair was tied up into a sensible bun behind her head. She was curvy but petite, her pale, freckled skin glowing like the sun shines through stained glass. Beatrice thought that she was the most beautiful creature that she had ever seen. Her sensuous curves and silky soft skin were currently constrained within a tight, well formed corset which magnificently accentuated her narrow hourglass waist and ample behind.

Harriet's smile was wide and full of life, with the cutest little gap between her two front teeth, or at least Beatrice thought so. Her cheeks, like her shoulders and arms were spotted with a constellation of freckles which multiplied in the summer sun. Beatrice had spent many happy hours attempting to count the myriad freckles across the body of her lover as they lay together. She had originally come to London from the Pembrokeshire Hills when her father's business had moved to the capital. Although the move had been when she was only a girl, Harriet still retained some of the adorable Welsh twang in her accent, which only made Beatrice love her all the more.

Beatrice on the other hand was medium height, for a lady, and as thin as a rake. Her brothers had teased her when she was younger, saying that if she donned a shirt and trousers and cut her hair, there would be nothing to distinguish her from another boy in the family. It was true that Beatrice did not have much in the way of curves or form to distinguish her as a woman, certainly in comparison to Harriet's gorgeous hourglass shape. But she was happy with the body that God had given her, Harriet certainly didn't seem to mind her boyish frame and skinny arms and legs.

Her face was narrower than that of her lover, with sharp cheekbones and a delicately pointed chin and nose. Her hair was a simple mousy brown colour, and she too wore it in a tidy bun behind her head. Her eyes were a pale brown with flecks of blue near the iris, and she sometimes wore a set of gold-rimmed glasses to read, which currently hung on a chain around her neck.

- - -

The two women continued to make their way through the crowded Crystal Palace, marvelling at the numerous wonders and inventions around them. Here and there announcers and salesmen called out above the hubbub, extolling the virtues of this marvellous new device, or that fantastical new product. As they passed by an iced refreshment stand, Harriet eagerly pulled Beatrice over and the two of them enjoyed a delightful cone of crushed ice with raspberry juice dripped through it. The ice quickly melted on their tongues and lips, and Beatrice had to resist the temptation to lean over and kiss the sweet juice directly off of her lover's face.

The two of them were always very careful about displays of their affection in public. For some reason, society seemed to be able to accept the concept of two unmarried women being very close friends, who lived together and shared their lives and interests. But the concept of those same two women being anything more than 'close friends' was a sinful and aberrant concept to them. Thankfully, people rarely saw what they were not looking for, and so Beatrice and Harriet's relationship was able to pass completely unnoticed by nearly all around them.

But that didn't mean that they shouldn't be careful. Holding hands, and walking arm in arm was fine. Intimate conversations across small cafe tables, and sitting close on chilly park benches went without a second glance. But any more extravagant public displays of affection were strictly out of bounds. In such a tight-collared society even men and women rarely showed physical affection for each other, let alone a lesbian couple. To touch intimately or, God forbid, even to kiss in public would have been most scandalous.

Which didn't mean that Beatrice wasn't tempted every now and then, especially in moments like this when the bright red juice of the iced treat was dripping so deliciously down Harriet's lips. How decadent it would be to lean over and plant a full lipped kiss right on her face, to allow their lips to part and devour the flavour of each other's mouths with their tongues, right in full view of a crowd of thousands. Beatrice blushed even thinking of it, God above knows what the reaction would have been.

So instead she merely smiled demurely and offered a lacy white handkerchief to her 'friend', who smiled and dabbed politely at her lips in the proper way before taking another small bite of the sweet treat.

With their ices in hand, the two of them continued to stroll the enormous crystal chamber of the Great Exhibition, stopping every now and then to marvel at something new and exciting. But the real reason that they had come was that they had an appointment with a very specific part of the exhibition run by the American journalist, Mr Mathew Brady and see his amazing new daguerreotype method. Beatrice had read in the paper that with a mere few minutes of exposure, Brady could perfectly capture a moment in time and preserve that moment on a silver plate forever more.

Harriet took the lead again and led Beatrice by the hand over to where she could see the large black canvas tent that Brady had set up for his demonstrations. There was a small queue outside of others who clearly wanted to have their images captured, so the two of them joined the end of it. Outside the tent were set up several display boards with demonstrations of the many crisp duotone images that Brady had already managed to capture over the course of the Great Exhibition. There were dozens of the strange little still moments on display, ranging in size from nearly postage-stamp size all the way up to dinner-plate size. They displayed everything from bowls of fruit, to house plants, to pets and people.

Beatrice even saw that Brady had attempted to capture the magnificence of the exhibition itself, with the distant metal framework of the Crystal Palace just noticeable as a lattice in the background, the many large tents and apparatus of the other stalls in the foreground, and a wash of blurred movement before, which she supposed must be the hundreds and thousands of people moving through the hall, their passage through the hall represented as a grey smudge along the bottom of the plate.

As the two women admired this amazing new demonstration of 'photojournalism' the queue moved forward and they stepped forward to be greeted by an excitable young man who explained that he was Mr Brady's assistant.

'Thank you for coming ladies, and for taking part in this experiment. The whole process shouldn't take more than two minutes. If you could please sit as still as possible once inside the tent, and your daguerreotype will be available for you to pick up from our offices in a week.'

With that, the two of them were ushered quickly into the dark interior of the tent where they fumbled briefly with the long backless sofa that sat in the middle, before seating themselves on it and facing the small point of light that they could see at the far end of the tent. It took a moment or two for them to adjust their skirts and posture to a point where they were satisfied, and just as Beatrice had set her back and expression to what she thought of as a neutral civility, she felt Harriet reach around behind her and firmly grasp her bottom with her gloved hand.

At the same moment, she heard a soft click from the far end of the tent and had to work extremely hard to keep her face neutral and not let out the scandalous giggle which was trying to escape from her throat. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Harriet, sitting upright and still, just as she was, the perfect picture of innocent, sincere perfection. At the same time, her hand, hidden from the lens of the light box, stroked gently at the plump roundness of Beatrice's behind, gently squeezing and fondling. If anyone would have walked in behind the two of them in that moment, there surely would have been quite an uproar, but that would ruin the daguerreotype, and so Harriet's mischievous hand went completely unnoticed.

Although she could feel the heat rising in her face from having her lover touch her in such a risky and intimate way, Beatrice fought all her instincts and kept her expression the same. The seconds seemed to tick past infinitely slowly, she wanted to laugh and slap Harriet's hand playfully away and then lean over and kiss her for being such a tease. She knew that when they got home, she would get her payback.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity in the dark room, there was another click from the other end as the light-box closed and a distant voice with an American accent called out 'thank you!' Harriet removed her hand from where it had been resting and stood up quickly, for a moment the two women's eyes met in the gloom and the flash of mischievous glee that crossed her face was enough to make Beatrice purse her lips and cover her mouth to stop from laughing out loud again.

The tent curtain was pulled open and the young assistant outside thanked them for their patronage and reminded them to collect their image in a week's time at their offices. Both Beatrice and Harriet curtseyed politely and wound their way back into the crowd

The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the magnificent corridors and displays of the Great Exhibition. Harriet seemed to know that every playful smile, every small squeeze of the hand and every batted eyelid just made Beatrice want her more. It was so frustrating. All she wanted to do was to lean over and kiss her, or gently stroke the loose strands of hair out of her face, or even gently squeeze her bottom back in retribution for earlier. But she couldn't, not here, not now. It would all have to wait until later.

- - -

As the day started to draw to a close and the spectating crowds began to filter out of the Crystal Palace, the two women joined the masses heading back into the streets and finding their way home. Thankfully Beatrice and Harriet didn't have far to go and before the sun had even started to go down and the two of them were crossing the threshold of their humble third floor flat off the high street.

The moment the door closed behind them, Beatrice grasped Harriet firmly by the waist, and pulled her towards her for a long, passionate drawn out kiss. As their lips met and she felt the warm, solid feeling of her lover pressing hard against her, she felt the sexual tension and frustration of the day melt out of her. She felt Harriet's arms reach around and hold her and return the embrace as she leaned her head back, sinking wistfully into the taller woman's arms.

Beatrice opened her mouth into the kiss and felt Harriet's hot tongue flick out between her lips as she breathed in deeply, inhaling her delicious scent. Each reached up behind the other's head and released the pins which held up their hair in their tight restrictive buns. Harriet's long mane of light blond hair fell down the back of her neck and off her shoulders like a beautiful molten waterfall of gold. Beatrice's own tight curls bounced freely from their restraint and she felt her scalp relax for what felt like the first time in weeks. Their hands were roving all over each other's bodies, exploring and tugging at the thick constraining fabric that their society forced them into.

With stumbling, distracted movements the two women moved towards their shared bedroom, shedding skirts and crinolines as they went, leaving them discarded on the ground where they lay. Finally, as Beatrice pushed Harriet forcefully against the door to their bedroom, she shed the last unwanted petticoat and kicked it off down the corridor. The two women now stood in just their undergarments, mouths pressed tightly together as Harriet fumbled for the door handle.

As they entered the room, the pale orange light of the distant setting sun illuminated them both in a golden glow of serene beauty. Unable to wait any longer, Beatrice pushed Harriet back onto the padded bed in the centre of the room and stood there for just a moment to admire the beauty of her lover lying sprawled and horny on the sheets.

Harriet's torso was still constrained in a tight fitting, scandalously dark red satin corset which wonderfully accentuated her narrow grabbable waist and full bounteous breasts. Beatrice bit her lip and drew a deep breath in as she admired her lover's amazing cleavage and full pale milky thighs. At her groin she wore a very nice set of matching red lace trimmed crotchless drawers. Harriet was lying on her back with her limbs in a state of disarray which also allowed Beatrice a tantalising view of the thin bush of blond hair between her legs, and the delicious salty wetness she knew lay below.

For herself, Beatrice was similarly attired in a tight fitting black waspie corset which covered only her waist, allowing her small pert breasts to fall free in the evening air. She also still had on her long black lacy stockings, held up by the straps attached to the base of her corset. And scandalously, she wore no underwear at all; she always loved walking amongst the public with nothing but her skirts between her and the world, a dangerous yet sexy secret known only by her and Harriet.

Harriet beckoned her coyly from the bed, her eyes alight with passion for her, but Beatrice was not ready yet. She moved slowly and deliberately over to one of the chest of drawers that stood beside the bed and pulled something out of the top drawer. Harriet smiled and bit her lip when she saw what it was, this was one of their favourite toys. With the work of a moment, Beatrice fed the long leather straps of the device through their belt loops and harnessed the toy around her hips. The long rubber phallus attached to the harness now sat perfectly poised above Beatrice's bare vulva.

'Darling please,' Harriet whimpered from the bed, 'I can't wait any longer, I need you inside me now!'

'Not yet, sweet thing,' Beatrice replied playfully, 'first I think our rubber friend needs a little love and lubrication.'

Harriet rolled her eyes in sexual frustration, but with a compulsion driven by the fire in her loins, she twisted around on the bed until she was kneeling obediently before her lover's artificial phallus and took it willfully into her mouth. Although she couldn't feel anything through the device of course, Beatrice loved the desperate slurping sucking sounds that Harriet made when feasting on the rubber dick. She reached down tenderly and stroked the side of her face, encouraging the smaller woman to cover every last inch of it with her lips.

'Good girl my sweet,' she teased playfully as their eyes met.

Harriet looked up from where she knelt, her blue eyes filled with desperate need for more and Beatrice looked down imperiously from where she stood, her own brown eyes sparkling with tender affection. Finally, satisfied that the rubber phallus was sufficiently wetted, Beatrice pulled a handful of Harriet's long blond hair back and left her gasping for air on the bed.

'Please Beatrice!' she moaned again, 'Please, my love, I need you now!'

'Yes my darling, you shall have all of me and more.'

Beatrice knelt up onto the bed as Harriet rotated her body around until she was kneeling too, her head buried amongst the pillows at the top of the bed and her behind rose up in the air like a pair of gorgeous pale round hillocks. Her legs were spread wide and Beatrice licked her lips when she saw that the slit between them was now dripping with anticipation. She gave each cheek before her a light playful smack with her palms and positioned herself so that the fake cock she wore had its wet, rounded head pressing ever so lightly against Harriet's needy entrance.

'Are you ready my darling?'

'Yes! Please my love, I need it in me now! Please fill me up!'

This was all the encouragement that she needed and so with one long, slow unstoppable thrust of her hips she sank the entire length of the rubber cock deep inside her lover. Harriet moaned and cried out in pure bliss as she felt it enter her, her voice muffled slightly by the pillows beneath her.

'Oh heavens above, Yeeeeeeessssss!'

Beatrice followed up with two more quick light spankings of the large perfect buttocks in front of her before she grabbed Harriet's waist firmly in both hands and pulled back out for another thrust. Harriet thrust her own hips backwards into the rubber phallus, desperate to have every last inch of its hard smooth length inside her. With each thrust a small moan of pleasure escaped from Harriet's lips and she gripped the bedsheets in her fists. The waves of sensations spilled out from her as the rubber head flicked every tender fraction of her insides.