Venus' Finest Ch. 01

"May I speak freely?" Molly asked.

"Surely," Elizabeth and Simon said, almost simultaneously. Molly glanced between the two of them with a smile.

"I look forward to Venus, and to what we might build there," she said. "But I don't want to wait for it." Without thinking, Simon reached out and took Molly's other hand. Now that she'd begun to speak, the words fell from her. "Miss Elizabeth, for years I have wished to kiss you, and to show you my affection in other ways that this society cannot allow. When you planned to meet Simon tonight, I was afraid that I would have to lay those dreams to rest. But...if we all feel this affection for one another, I need not let it go."

Elizabeth looked over at Simon, afraid that his tolerance for social deviation might have been exceeded. His hand was still on Molly's, though, and his expression was one of concern.

"Whatever you both wish, I will be your confidant," he said. "When I said I hoped you would be happy this evening, I meant it, and I hope that you can remain so."

Molly looked at Elizabeth. "Pardon me for saying, miss, but you quite fancy the gentleman, don't you?"

Elizabeth blushed, but she met Simon's eyes as she nodded. "I am...very fond of you both. I wish to explore this further. But my mother will ask how the evening progressed, and I don't know what I could say."

"You don't need to lie to her," Molly said. "We can...walk carefully enough that you can tell her the truth."

Elizabeth smiled sadly. "I can't tell her that I'm romantically interested in the Duke and my maidservant."

"She won't ask that, though," Simon said slowly. "She'll ask if I was gentlemanly, and if you and I did anything inappropriate with one another."

Molly bit her lip, which Elizabeth knew meant she was holding excitement at bay. "So, miss Elizabeth. If you'd like, I can pass your messages along to the Duke, and deliver his to you."

Elizabeth's mind raced. The thought of deceiving her mother without truly lying was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure. Beyond that, though, she had spoken true when she said she wished to explore further. She wished to pursue her affections for Molly and Simon, as much as the world would allow, and until they could found a better world entirely. She wanted them. She wanted to feel joy at their presence, their voices, their bodies; she wanted to make them smile and laugh and make indecorous noises. She wanted to hold them and be happy together.

With her pulse pounding and her nerves alight, Elizabeth nodded. The play had progressed into the third act at some point, and she'd taken no notice of it.

"That would be to my liking," she said. She squeezed Molly's hand, then let go. Haltingly, her heart in her throat, she wrapped her arm around Molly's waist and set her hand on her hip. She didn't move - indeed, she was certain she couldn't move, her every thought focused on the sensation of closeness.

Molly exhaled. She'd touched Elizabeth before, on more occasions than she could count, but she'd had to wear the mask of decorum every time, knowing that the Countess could dismiss her at will. This was the first time she'd touched Elizabeth without even feigning respect for proper British morals. It felt like running out into the sunlight for the first time.

"That's nice, miss," Molly whispered.

She glanced over at Simon. "I'm sure the Duke will be happy to receive your message."

Simon stiffened momentarily as Molly slid her arm behind his back and rested her hand on his hip. Even through his well-tailored shirt, she could feel the edge of his hip, and she ran one finger along it, back and then forth. She wasn't copying Elizabeth's motions, but she reasoned that every message loses or gains something in the translation.

"Oh," Simon whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then smiled. "Elizabeth, I have received your missive of 21 April."

Elizabeth laughed, not the restrained laugh of the Victorian court but unbridled joy. Luckily, the action onstage was at a comedic passage, so the sound was not too incongruous. Simon reached out with one foot and slid the box's transit barrier closed, dampening the sound of the outside world to near-silence. He hoped that no one was looking closely at their box.

Simon set his left hand on Molly's leg near her knee. "I hope my reply finds you well and in good health," he went on. He slowly slid his hand up and down Molly's leg, each motion reaching a bit higher. Molly moaned, the sound filling the newly-enclosed space.

"I have not received it and it still finds me well," Elizabeth whispered.

"Sorry, Miss," Molly replied. She reached down and caressed Elizabeth's leg. Elizabeth gasped, despite the thickness of the fabric.

"Oh, no need to apologize," Elizabeth managed.

"I don't mean to keep you waiting, miss," Molly said. "Not too much, at least. Just enough."

Elizabeth closed her eyes. The warmth of Molly's presence - her hip beneath Elizabeth's hand, her side pressed against Elizabeth's, her hand sliding up and down the pleats in Elizabeth's dress - was almost too much for her. She'd tried not to think about Molly in these terms before this, but dreams are not so easy to tame. Everything about the moment, and the closeness, was bringing those forbidden dreams out of the attic and setting them on display.

Elizabeth glanced over at Simon. He, too, was trying to maintain control, and mostly succeeding. His hand had wandered up, and was stroking the inside of Molly's thigh. Elizabeth smiled at him as she reached up and pulled Molly's head against her chest, running her fingers through the curls of Molly's hair.

"I dare say this wasn't the evening you expected," Elizabeth said.

He smiled back. "In the broadest sense, I hoped that I would get to know two of my friends better, and I am."

"Your dress is far too thick, miss," Molly murmured. She reached down and lifted the dress up, revealing Elizabeth's silk stockings, and meandered a path up from Elizabeth's knee to her inner thigh. Elizabeth held Molly tight, looking in Simon's direction even if she couldn't see straight.

"Oh dear," Elizabeth gasped.

"I'm supposed to see to your needs, miss," Molly said, her fingers gliding along the edge of Elizabeth's undergarments, right at her hip. "But you've had these needs for some time and I've never seen to them."

"Come now," Simon said, his fingers parallelling Molly's own. "You have your own needs as well."

"She does," Elizabeth gasped. "She spends so much time thinking of me, she hardly tends to herself."

"Perhaps we should help her, then," Simon said. "Without touching each other inappropriately, of course."

"Yes," Elizabeth whispered. She lifted Molly up, gazing into her deep green eyes. "Let us help her." She leaned in close, holding Molly's gaze as long as she could, then closed her eyes as their lips touched.

Elizabeth could feel the heat of Molly's breath, feel the tenderness of her lips, hear the quiet almost-moan she made as they kissed. Elizabeth's first-hand experience with kissing was almost nonexistent, but she knew that she wanted it, wanted more of it. She pushed gently forward, her lips exploring Molly's, her blush rising until she was certain it covered her entire body.

It was something like a dance, Elizabeth thought, the way they moved together. It didn't follow a strict form, but it had much of the same art to it - figuring out how to move together, how to give your partner space to breathe, when to spin and when to draw your partner close. She'd had no instruction in it, and yet she'd never had a partner quite so enjoyable with whom to learn.

Molly pulled back and glanced over at Simon. "Excuse me for a moment?"

"Certainly," he breathed.

Molly smiled and moved in again, turning to face Elizabeth and wrapping her arms around her. Their lips met, and this time Molly led, pushing Elizabeth back into her seat with a flurry of kisses, touching every corner of her lips. Molly ran her tongue ran along Elizabeth's lips, then once Elizabeth opened herself up, she moved inside, her tongue exploring. How she had spent so much time with Molly and never acknowledged that this was what she wanted? Elizabeth didn't know, but Molly seemed determined to make up for the lost time, and Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to follow where she led.

After an exquisite moment Molly pulled back. She bit her lip, and looked down at Elizabeth's body, and glanced back with a question in her gaze. Elizabeth nodded, unhesitatingly. She didn't know quite what she was agreeing to, but she wanted nothing more than to find out.

Molly lifted her dress up to her thighs. Then, holding Elizabeth's gaze, she straddled Elizabeth to sit upon her hips. The seats were not designed for this sort of behavior, Molly thought, but she wrapped herself around Elizabeth all the same. She pushed their hips together, feeling Elizabeth's heat even through her thick dress. She wrapped her arms around Elizabeth and leaned in to kiss her again.

This time, the dance was of a wholly different sort. In every dance Elizabeth had learned, one person led for the entire dance, but here they shifted easily, effortlessly. Molly came forward, her kisses pushing Elizabeth back slowly until her head was resting against the seat. Then as her energy waned, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Molly, one just above her hips and one between her shoulder blades. She held her close and kissed back, her lips holding Molly, embracing her, keeping her steady. They spun around one another, saying without words what they'd wished to say for so long.

Molly began to gently rub her hips back and forth. Elizabeth could hear her breath catch, ever so slightly, each time. Molly withdrew from the kiss and leaned down, her head on Elizabeth's shoulder, her bosom close against Elizabeth's, her quiet gasps in Elizabeth's ear.

Elizabeth saw Simon watching, and gave him a smile. "Miss Molly," she whispered, "I fear we're neglecting our dear friend."

"Not at all," Simon replied with a warm smile. "This will not work if we grow jealous of each other's pair time."

"It also won't work if we do not take care of one another," Elizabeth said. "Molly?"

Molly raised her head and met Elizabeth's gaze. "Yes, miss?" she asked, her hips still rubbing against Elizabeth's.

"Could you please remind Simon that we must take care of one another?"

Molly smiled and leaned in to give Elizabeth one more lingering kiss. "As you wish, miss."

She lifted herself off of Elizabeth's lap. Then, keeping her dress raised, she stepped across to Simon and settled herself on his lap. She locked eyes with him.

"Hello, sir."

Simon tried to decide what form of address was appropriate for the situation, and came up short. Victorian rules of politeness hardly acknowledged that this sort of scenario occurred.

"Welcome aboard," he managed eventually.

Elizabeth laughed once again. Molly smiled, setting one hand on Simon's cheek. Gently, she began to rise up and down, rubbing her hips against his. She could feel him stiffening, his hardness rubbing against her and stoking the fire inside her.

She bit her lip. His eyes were blue like a tropical sea, and she stared into them like she was trying to see the bottom. "I am happy to come aboard, sir."

He smiled. When he'd begun collaborating with Elizabeth, her letters had entranced him. Their wit, their kindness, the forethought they showed - he'd considered himself blessed to work with such a talent. When Elizabeth had mentioned her assistant, and the collaboration that they were able to do, he'd wondered what it would be like to work so closely on such an inspiring project, and wished he could be there. This was not the project he'd initially imagined, but the collaboration was every bit as exciting as he'd hoped and more.

Molly moaned quietly. "Oh sir," she said. "Thank you for welcoming me aboard. I wish I could climb the mast."

Simon raised an eyebrow, and she smiled bashfully. "I recognize that's a bit forward of me."

"I don't know if it's that forward, given where you are," he noted. He walked his hands up her legs, circling her hips and cupping her bottom. "But besides that, I can't credibly say that I don't want that too."

She leaned in to kiss him. He was a different partner from Elizabeth - his chin was rough with stubble despite his clean-shaven appearance, his jaw was wider, his motions more methodical. But he shared a characteristic with her - he neither insisted on leading nor completely ceded the lead to her. He pulled her in, the heat of his breath on her face, the touch of his lips everywhere on hers. They danced, exploring and being explored, until they both had to pause for breath.

Molly touched her forehead to Simon's, letting him hold her and steady her. "When we get to Venus," she said, "we shall be able to do as we wish."

Simon took a deep breath. "If we want to build a society without prejudice in that area, we'll need to do a good deal of work. We'll need to select the other colonists carefully, for one."

Molly kissed him again, quickly and sharply. "You are right, and we will discuss that. But Miss Elizabeth asked me to make sure you discuss subjects other than Venus, did she not?"

"I did," Elizabeth murmured.

"So, for now," Molly went on, "why don't you tell me what you will do once we're there." She began swaying her hips back and forth once again, to give him a direction.

"Oh," he moaned. "Well. I want to build a house by the sea." He closed his eyes, working to gather his thoughts, then continued. "I want to live with you both, and dance with you. There aren't any dances for three on Earth, so we'll have to create them."

"Yes," Molly gasped.

"I want to make love to you," he went on. "Without having to keep secrets from anyone. I want to give myself to you both."

Molly kissed him again. She felt that she could spend hours kissing him, or hours speaking to him, and she wanted to get the most of both. Every moment they had until they left Earth would be stolen, and there's no use stealing something that you won't use to the fullest.

She felt a touch, and saw that Elizabeth had taken her hand. Elizabeth had lifted her own dress, and her left hand was invisible somewhere in the tangle of skirt around her waist. Her gaze was fixed on their faces, though. Her face was a battleground of emotions, her joy at seeing Molly and Simon so happy at war with her excitement and her frustration.

Molly reached out and caressed Elizabeth's face, her fingertips taking in the warm softness of her cheek, the sharp angle of her chin, the elegant line of her straight hair as black as the night sky. Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned into the caress, letting Molly hold her, savoring the touch.

"Please don't be sad, miss," Molly whispered. Simon said nothing, but his eyes seemed to be saying the same thing.

Elizabeth took Molly's hand and kissed it. Then, slowly reached out towards Simon, as if mimicking Molly's gesture. She caught Simon's gaze, and she moved her hand within an inch of his cheek before she paused, motionless save for her breathing.

"This will be the worst kind of torture," Elizabeth whispered.

Simon smiled, his expression one of sadness undercut by hope. "If we are diligent, we can make it the best kind of torture instead."

Elizabeth smiled. "Be my partner in diligence, then."

"Nothing would give me more pleasure," he said.

"What do you have in mind?" Molly asked.

Elizabeth turned to look at her. "Let us be diligent in helping Molly reach her climax."

Gently, Simon lifted Molly from his lap and deposited her in the center seat. Molly seemed unsure of exactly what was happening, but she was excited to find out. Elizabeth kissed her, her fingers running through Molly's curly hair, her lips imploring Molly to bear with them.

As Elizabeth stared into Molly's eyes, Molly suddenly gasped. Elizabeth heard the rustle of cloth, and saw Simon lifting Molly's dress out of the corner of her eye. Elizabeth was blocking her view of what Simon was doing, but she didn't seem to mind.

"One of the few amorous things Simon and I may do together," Elizabeth noted, "is to please you together."

"Oh," Molly gasped. Elizabeth smiled. She kissed Molly, first on the lips, then along her cheeks, up her temples, on her forehead. Molly was letting her and Simon lead completely, and she intended to be as welcoming and pleasant as a Victorian lady was expected to be.

Elizabeth touched her nose to Molly's, enjoying the delicate sensation. She felt Molly stiffen and make a sound, something between a gasp and a moan. She heard Simon's hands begin a slow rhythm, and she looked back to see him stroking Molly's cleft through her white undergarments. His hands moved slowly, gently, and Molly opened her legs in a wonderfully indecorous fashion to give him better access.

Elizabeth turned back to look at Molly's face. Her blush had risen to completely cover her cheeks, and she panted softly with each breath. She caught Elizabeth's gaze, and they stared into one another's eyes.

"Are we good for you?"

"Oh, yes, miss."

"I'm glad," Elizabeth whispered. She caressed Molly's face, feeling her heat and the beginning of her sweat. Proper Victorian ladies were not supposed to sweat, but Elizabeth supposed that she and Molly both were merely pretending to be proper.

"I've always suspected that I make you happy," Elizabeth went on, "and I could tell how much you enjoyed our correspondences with Simon. But I didn't know we'd be enjoying each other's company quite like this."

"It is such a welcome surprise," Simon said.

"To be honest, miss," Molly gasped, "I've been thinking about this for years." She took Elizabeth's hand and kissed it delicately, even as she rocked gently in time with Simon's strokes. "We both knew these thoughts weren't proper, and so you tried not to think them. I just tried not to show them."

Elizabeth kissed her ferociously, her hands questing up and down Molly's sides, forcing Simon to shift over so that they didn't touch. Molly took the kisses, and guided Elizabeth's hands to her bosom. Even through the coarse fabric of Molly's servant's dress, Elizabeth could feel the shape of her breasts, feel her excitement at the forbidden touch.

"We have so much lost time to make up for," Elizabeth breathed.

"We're already beginning," Simon said. He leaned in to kiss Molly, Elizabeth moving out of his way, then reached down to pull at the edges of Molly's knickers. "Is this alright?" he asked.

"Yes," Molly whispered.

Simon pulled the knickers down and slid them off. Molly's legs trembled as she spread them, and Molly watched Simon's face as he took in the sight of her. She had a shock of red hair, just as unruly as the hair on her head, leading down to her lips. Victorian rules of propriety barely allowed Elizabeth to think about her own nethers, let alone anyone else's, but she was far beyond them now. This was a part of who Molly was, and Elizabeth wanted to explore it with her.

"You should touch her, Simon," Elizabeth whispered.

"Of course," Simon said. He ran his hand up her thigh, eliciting a gasp, then snaked one finger through her bush to her lips. He ran the finger along the surface, feeling her wetness on his finger, then began to rub her, tracing a long oval with two fingers.

"Oh," Molly sighed. Elizabeth marveled at how willing she was to share so much of herself. She held Molly close, touching their cheeks together and watching. She wanted to kiss her, but she didn't want to interrupt the sounds she was making.

"You are beautiful," Simon murmured. "All of you."

"Hmm," Molly moaned. "I thought men were supposed to say that sort of thing before they got here."

"Perhaps," Simon said. "But I'm not supposed to fall for you both. And yet, here we are."