Trigynia 03

Lady Sappho revealed

... concluding the Trigynia Trilogy

Ruby felt elated and sated as she closed her IM link with Suzanne. She had come more times than she could remember - and with more power and passion than she had ever known. The feeling that she had, for the first time in her life, made another woman come was so warming she thought nothing of wandering the house completely naked, her mind reliving every moment with Suzanne. The knowledge that she had made herself come for another woman made her blush, but with pride and joy - she felt not a trace of disquiet for all the sexy, intimate and occasionally dirty things she had thought and said. On the contrary, as she opened the French windows in the lounge to let the cooling autumn air caress her nude body, she felt shamelessly pleased with herself for having undressed so willingly for Suzanne, and more so for having offered herself so openly to her e-lover's every suggestion and desire, and more so still for surrendering so easily to the fantasies they wove together, of masturbating for each other in Starbucks, making love together in a changing room with the door flung open, licking the come from each other's panties. But what elated her most was the feeling that she had discovered a window into Cristabel's secret world.

"Oh Cristabel," she sighed to her empty garden, "let me be your next Suzanne, let me kiss you and lick you again and again, make you come again and again, into my mouth, over my breasts, against my thighs ... oh, heaven," she breathed, her hands gently caressing her soft breasts, her nipples chilled and hard with desire between her fingers, "oh god", she sighed, "I want her so much ... oh to come against her, come over her beautiful bottom and then kiss her and lick her there ... oh god, please," she moaned, her fingers now dancing between her tender and swollen labia once more, "please let me be with her, just once, let me kiss her like Suzanne did, make her bottom come creamy and syrupy into my mouth and then masturbate while she pees over my breasts, my thighs, my pussy ... and then ... on no," hurriedly, she ran to the downstairs bathroom, sitting down just in time and then finding the lust within herself to hold her fingers in the stream, feel the warm, musky water running down into her palm.

After a long shower to clean her body and calm her mind Ruby dressed and started to prepare a meal for her and Dominic. She was, as always, pleased when he arrived home, pleased to share time with him, hear about his day and just generally confirm that the secret little world she had been exploring was not going to have any effect on her relationship with the man she had loved for approaching thirty years. She went to bed contented, her mind free of lust for Suzanne and Cristabel. Nothing woke her until Dominic kissed her forehead to say he was off to the surgery. She smiled tenderly as he left the room, by the time she heard the front door close her mind was once again absorbed with and obsessed with Cristabel. She threw off the covers and explored her naked body with her eyes, "oh my darling Cristabel," she moaned, "how I would love to lie naked like this in front of you."

Excited by the last thought she had had before her shower the previous evening, she threw on a gown and skipped downstairs to the study, opened up the link to Literotica and searched for Lady Sappho. "Found you, my sweet," she smiled on scanning a list of stories. At first she could not see the one Suzanne had mentioned, Dans L'Intimité, but guessed by the description for 'Sapphic Liaisons 2' that that was it.

As soon as she started reading Ruby felt more certain than ever that the authoress who had so enflamed, used and rewarded Suzanne, was her very own Cristabel. All the coincidences had told her it had to be, but the flowing confidence of the writing and the location of the story in Oxford was the final confirmation she needed. She read the story through slowly, delighting in every subtle phrase, every erotic hook, every sensual detail. As she read she felt a warm, glowing sense of arousal easing through her body, like an inner caress. She felt herself transported into the story, into the lingerie boutique, inside the rapturous mind of the lucky Augusta. As intoxicating as the story was she resisted the calling temptation of her body, determining to read and enjoy the story in full before enjoying her own desires fully. Gradually, as the story unfolded, as the characters developed, she realized that the model, Jane, was Cristabel herself - a few descriptive differences could not mask the tender personality of the girl. "Oh you sweet, sweet thing," she breathed delightedly, "I really have found you."

Generously, Ruby felt nothing but delight for Augusta. Of course, a small part of her was jealous to know that she, like Suzanne, had tasted and been tasted by the young woman she wanted more than anything in the world, but it was a benign jealousy, born of nothing but a heartfelt desire to give herself to Cristabel some day soon.

On finishing Dans L'Intimité Ruby got up and walked calmly back upstairs, let her gown slip from her shoulders and made love to herself on the bed, dreaming that there would come a day when she would do the same with Cristabel watching her.

Temporarily sated she dressed in a casual tweed skirt and unexceptional cardigan, over a see-through black lace bra, matching knickers and black silk hold-ups. Her mind absorbed but calm she went back downstairs, drank a tall glass of orange juice and walked out in the early morning freshness, adoring the feel of the breeze teasing her most sensitive parts through the loose weave of her skirt and cardigan and the thinness of her lace underwear. She bought a paper, took coffee and a croissant in the little cake shop - it wasn't Starbucks, nor would it ever employ a waitress pretty enough to risk being openly dirty for - but the coffee was good.

As she walked back into her driveway Ruby wondered whether she could ever have been as bold as Suzanne and Cristabel. By the sounds of it, the situations of their houses was quite different - Ruby's front garden was completely open to the peering eyes of half-a-dozen neighbours. But so what, isn't the whole point of making love in the open air that one might be seen? "Of course I couldn't," she thought to herself, "I have a reputation ... and somewhere just as good and infinitely safer."

Back at her computer Ruby began to read through more of Lady Sappho's work, enjoying first the riotous lesbian orgy of Erinna's Garden (Sapphic Liaisons 4) and then the subtle, erotic seduction of Flagrante (Astronomy 2). Then, her whole body tingling with desire for the delectable Lady Sappho, she went back into IM to re-read Suzanne's gorgeously subtle yet open description of her night with the young Cristabel. She smiled vivaciously at the casual unbuttoning of Suzanne's blouse, whispering "you know I want that too" while imagining the young woman's fingers unbuttoning her cardigan and then slipping inside to caress her breasts through the lacy cups of her bra, "so much."

As she reached the line where she confessed to stroking her pussy she blushed slightly, knowing that her thoughts by that time were exclusively focused on Cristabel, on the idea of her and Cristabel. Re-reading Suzanne's lovely confession of having wanted to wander the party naked and free beneath her blouse and skirt - so that Cristabel might feel and smell her body whenever she was near - Ruby replayed the thought that had filled her head at the time: an image of herself, in a similar state, observing Cristabel's teaching from the back of a classroom, scheming a chance encounter through which she could prove the depth of her desire for her young teacher.

"Shall I do that for you now my angel," she whispered, "oh Cristabel, what would you think, what would you do if you called round and found me dressed all demurely for that first impression, but wantonly nude beneath for later submission?"

Not waiting for her own answer Ruby skilfully slipped the her bra off, down through the sleeve of her cardigan and then lifted her bottom off the chair to slip off her knickers, which she held to her nose for a moment, breathing her scent before smearing the traces of her creamy goo over her lips.

"Mmm, my darling, will you let me lick the come from your panties before insisting that I please your pussy with my plump bosom and hard nipples?"

Ruby could hold onto her calm restraint no longer as she re-read Cristabel's words, as recorded by Suzanne - 'make yourself come over my bottom'.

"Oh yes, angel, yes, a thousands times anytime", she cried, sliding her hand up between her smooth thighs to find her hot and impatient sex. "Oh god, Cristabel," she moaned, "make me do it for you ... let me do it for you in my room, after school, when everyone else is gone, let me press my pussy against you and come just like Suzanne ... yes," she breathed excitedly while squeezing her plump and hungry clitoris, "oh I love masturbating for you my darling, love squeezing and pleasing my beautiful bud for you, making her flower just for you ... mmm, can I rub myself against your bottom angel? ... smell your bitter-sweetness while I make myself come? ... oh god," she cried as she neared orgasm, "god, I want you more than ever, I want you to lie over my desk, pull down your panties and let me kiss your silky stockings, your creamy thighs, your beautiful buttocks ... oh yes," she panted, her climax starting to burst deep inside her, "and then I'll lick your bottom and then your pussy and then your bottom again, hour after hour, making you come again and again and ... oh god Cristabel I want you so much, want to taste all your secrets ... mmm, you make me want to come so much, feel my pussy baby, feel how wet and creamy she is for you ... yes, your naughty Headmistress is coming just for you ... oh angel," she moaned as her breathing eased, "I am so yours, take me whenever you want me ..."

"Who can that be?" Ruby sighed petulantly as the ringing telephone interrupted the afterglow of her latest fantasy love with Cristabel. Her respectability and her duty would not allow her to ignore what might be a call about some village affair, or related to Dominic's practice, or concerning St Cecilia's. "Yes," she answered neutrally.

"Ruby?"

"Cristabel!" she chimed, excited beyond measure, "oh you sweet thing, I was just thinking about you."

"Really - nice, I hope, I mean, I think I've settled in at the school now, I'm sure I'll ..."

"Cristabel," Ruby sang benevolently, "you have settled wonderfully and we all think you are just perfect for St Cecilia's ... while I ..."

"Yes?" I breathed with just a touch of exploratory tease.

"I think you are quite the best thing to happen to the school in ages," she replied, without missing a beat. "Now, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Of course, at the time I knew nothing - well, OK, I kind of suspected she had a bit of a thing for me, but one is never sure until one is sure - but, while I had no good reason for suspecting half the meaning she put into that simple word 'pleasure', I was sensible enough to notice the way the word died into a husky sigh. So, I teased some more:

"Well, I hope this is a 'pleasure' you can't refuse - I was wondering if we could spend a little time planning my class' lessons for the second half of term ..."

"Of course," she interrupted.

"Yes, good and, er, do you usually do anything for St Cecelia's day?"

"Not really," she replied, "why?"

"Well, I just thought that perhaps we could try to get the children, like each different class, to get a piece of music ready ..."

"Yes, er, why?"

"St Cecelia - she's the patron saint of musicians," I pointed out with more exasperation than I intended.

"Oh yes, of course," Ruby replied a little sheepishly, "guess we're not as up with our saint as we ought to be."

"Yes, well," I chided, "so, what do you think?"

"I think it's a lovely idea Cristabel," Ruby replied, her mind desperate for the confidence and idea to turn my call to the advantage she so wantonly craved. By chance, I gave her that.

"So, shall we meet up for a coffee, or something?"

"Today?"

"Yes, that is, if you're not doing anything?"

"Hold on," she replied with a refreshed girlishness, "let me just check with my social secretary ... no, seems you're in luck Cristabel."

"Superb ... where shall we go?"

"Er, why don't you come here?" she replied casually, "I've got good coffee, comfy sofas and, if you want it, a piano at the end of the garden."

"Really, how cool," I replied, "just one problem though ..."

"What?"

"I've no idea where you live!"

She told me and I drove round there straightaway, took me about twenty minutes. As I drove my old MX5 onto the driveway she opened the door to greet me, a knowing kind of smile on her lips as she examined the car.

"Nice," she smiled, "have you had it long?"

"Er, yes, actually, Daddy bought it for my 21st," I replied, trying hard not to sound like a spoilt little rich girl.

"Lucky thing, did you take it to Australia?"

"Oh no, well, no point really, it was cheaper to ..."

"Buy one out there?"

"Er, yes," I admitted sheepishly, "I let my little sister take this up to Oxford ..."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"No? - guess it never came up ... she's not like me, I mean she's really pretty and much much cleverer ..."

"Prettier than you Cristabel," Ruby smiled, "she can't be!"

"But she is," I insisted honestly.

"No, I can't believe it," Ruby smiled with such a kindly openness that I realized it was foolish to argue. Besides, a girl should never argue against a compliment, however misplaced. "Come on, come inside, I've got the coffee on."

Hers was a nice and very well kept house, all neutral colours, modern furniture and no clutter. I liked it, it suited her, she looked good in it. She also, I couldn't help but notice, looked radiantly good in a plainly cut knee-length tweed skirt and simple, nut-brown cardigan. Somehow, both seemed to caress, not just dress, her body, accentuating the curve of her hips, the firmness of her thighs and the fullness of her bosom. In fact, the more I looked at her the more I had to fight away the thought that she wasn't wearing any underwear; then, as she turned to pour the coffee, the gentle wave with which her breasts seemed to flow beneath her cardigan brought the thought flying back. But why not, I reasoned, she's on holiday, she's in her own home, why shouldn't she feel relaxed ... save a bit of me couldn't help wondering whether she consciously chose not to put any underwear on after inviting me round, or took it off after doing so. I blushed.

"There," she said, placing an expensive white mug of deliciously strong coffee in front of me, "first the coffee, now the chat ... what's in your mind?"

Should I tell her the truth?, did I dare - well, yes, actually, I generally don't lack for confidence if the signs are all pointing the same way, and they did seem to be; but then again, she was my boss, she was married, she was respectable and she was so naturally open that one could easy mistake a casual gesture for something more enticing. So I settled for a carefully phrased:

"Well, if you want the complete truth Ruby I was thinking how much that cardigan and skirt seems to suit you."

"This, but it's just something old I hadn't worn for a while," she replied.

Had I offended her by praising something she didn't think was the least flattering?, but surely, she would have changed if she really felt she was wearing something horrid when I called.

"Well, even so," I dared, "it hangs really nicely on you, I mean, the cardigan especially seems to, I don't know, kind of flow over you."

"That's nice of you," she replied while lowering her eyes shyly.

Maybe I was right, I thought, how lovely. Even so, I was careful not to jump to any beguiling but false assumptions, nor to let the moment dissipate without trace.

"Still, I guess the whole point of half-terms is for us to relax a little, rejuvenate the spirit, and you certainly look as though you've been hogging first row all week at the fountain of youth!"

"Cristabel!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining her delight in my flattery even if her voice tried to pretend otherwise, "you're teasing me."

"Not at all, Ruby, not one teeny bit ... you look great - now," I continued, breezing into work mode before she had the chance to say something silly that might weaken the effect of my sweet talking, "can I tell you about my music idea?"

For the next twenty minutes or so we chatted teacher-chat, working up ideas for keeping the long half-term through to Christmas fresh and interesting, knowing that by mid-November the children would already be dreaming of new toys, new games, new whatevers. Ruby seemed genuinely enthused by the idea of something for the whole school to focus on before their minds turned to Carols and parties, all the more so actually once I'd admitted that 22 November is my birthday. Soon, we were plotting a concert for St Cecelia, convincing ourselves that the children would love it, the staff more so and the parents more so still. "Oh yes," she cried excitedly at one point while refilling my mug with more of her delicious coffee, "we'll even make some money to spend on the children's Christmas!"

She asked me what more I knew about St Cecelia, which wasn't much besides her date and her connection to music. "We need Butler's Lives of the Saints," I suggested.

"Of course," she replied, "d'you know, I think we've got a copy somewhere in the study."

"Great," I said, "let's get it."

So, we got up and I followed her back through the hall. "Oh, no," she said seemingly agitated by something.

"What?" I asked.

"I-I-er," she stuttered, giving me the - false, of course - impression she had no idea where the book was and didn't want to waste my time.

"Come on," I said, assuming the door we were stood outside led to her study, "we'll find it."

Well of course, I noticed the black knickers on the desk next to her computer straightaway, and the abandoned bra hanging from the chair, light seeping through the lace. I said nothing but thought lots. So, I had been right, she was nude beneath her cardigan and skirt, but why, I wondered, what's her story and what does it mean for me? I wasn't being immodest, I'm really not like that, but no matter the reason why her underwear was lying on her desk, the fact was she had chosen not to put it back on before I arrived.

"I think the book's down here," she said hurriedly, dragging me down to the far end of the room. I thought, at first, it was just a rouse, that she had noticed me noticing and was embarrassed. But actually, she found the book in no time and with amazing calm read out the full entry on St Cecelia.

"Well, so now we know," I smiled.

"Yes," she said, suddenly pensive again, "Cristabel," she whispered, her voice husky with what I instantly recognized as nervous passion.

"Yes," I replied simply, my eyes suddenly hypnotized by the longing I saw in hers.

"Can I tell you why?"

"Why what," I breathed encouragingly.

"I think you know," she said enigmatically, but of course, by now, I did, "I, er, met a friend of yours ..."

"Really?" I replied in surprise.

"Well, when I say 'met' I mean sort of met, met sort of virtually ..."

"Who?" I asked, not following her rather impenetrable digression, save, of course, it wasn't a digression at all.

"Suzanne."

"Suzanne?" I repeated, not to tease, simply because I have known a few Sues, Susans and Suzannes, though I confess the thought that she might mean the Suzanne she did mean was already exciting me ... and making me just a tad ashamed, actually. The hour she and I spent making love on her driveway was one of the most fabulous of my life. I had never been so demanding, certainly not of an older woman. The flings I had had with girls at school and in college, satisfying or not, had always been quite equal, in a rather competitive way - each trying to convince herself she had the deepest, longest, most profound orgasm. But with more complete, more emotionally literate women, women who really know how to seduce me and make love to me - women like Stephanie and Isabella - I had always been happily and contented compliant and, curious though it may sound, chaste. I guess, therefore, there had just been something in the air that night, something in the stars. I was twenty-five, had just got married, was about to go and live in Australia ... and, like girls do, I just wanted to have some fun.