Forbidden Love (Sapphic Historical)

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Forbidden Love (Sapphic Historical) Page 4

by Anna Rose


  ***

  The snow began to melt a week or so later, and the day after it first began to drop, everyone came home again – and things reverted to their usual mundane monotony.

  My duties at work were a little more expansive now that I’d been there a while and I was no longer confined just to the kitchen.

  Now and then I’d pass Helen, and she’d smile before going on her way, something in my belly fluttering every time we’d alight at work or at home.

  Neither of us had mentioned what had happened the night the snow had started and now that everyone was home again, the house full, it didn’t seem it would ever be mentioned again.

  After a morning of helping with the Moreland’s breakfast service, I made my way to the laundry, pausing for a moment as I eyed Helen and her old lover, Liz, chattering.

  A dart of jealousy hit me – which was silly, of course, I told myself.

  “Help me with these linens, will you?” Helen said then as she spied me, moving away from Liz.

  She gestured for me to join her and we silently worked through the morning.

  “Helen – you’re wanted in the parlour,” a pale-haired girl announced from the doorway, and I steeled myself for a snide comment or filthy look from her; she didn’t disappoint.

  “What must it be like, I wonder, having to clean the scum of their lord and ladyships garments when you used to be on the other side of it, Miss Priss,” the girl asked, striding past me and jostling me out of the way as she went.

  My hip hit a table, pain shooting through my body, but as usual, I ignored her, making to leave the laundry.

  “You leave her alone Katie, do you hear?” Helen said then, voice firm, eyes flashing.

  “Or what?” the girl sneered.

  “Or you’ll see,” Helen said calmly, and the two of them stared at one another silently before

  Katie looked away, mumbling under her breath.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said as Helen and I left the laundry. “No doubt they’ll think me weak and unable to stand up for myself,” I sighed.

  “Who cares what they think,” Helen tossed her head. “If they say anything else they’ll have me to answer to and that’s the end of it. But you haven’t been having the worst luck – I’ve heard that you’ve made some friends.”

  “You mean the Smith twins?” I glanced at her askance. “Prudence invited me around for

  Sunday lunch,” I nodded. “She’s so easy to talk to – her and her brother are lovely.”

  “Well,” Helen said, sounding far from impressed. “Personally, I prefer a bit of meat on my women but if you fancy her then-”

  “Helen!” I muttered, shocked, looking around the empty corridor we passed through even though she’d spoken discreetly. “She’s is just a friend-”

  “Best to tell her that, then – I reckon she’s already half in love with you.”

  I thought of the quiet, pretty girl who was a year older than me and who shared my interest in literature, something we’d quickly bonded over.

  “She’s like us,” Helen said then, raising her brows in emphasis.

  “Well, there must surely be something in the water here,” I shook my head in disbelief as I came to library, pausing outside the door before I picked up my next task. “And as it happens, she really is just a friend,” I insisted, meeting Helen’s eyes.

  Helen’s previously unsmiling countenance lightened and she smiled broadly before shrugging, saying, “Well, it’s no skin of my nose either way. And Liz – Liz is just a friend too, in case you were wondering.”

  I watched her retreating figure, thrilled.

  ***

  I watched from the bed as Helen brushed her blonde hair, and then she rose, taking off her clothes, readying herself for bed.

  I quickly lay down, turning to stare at the wall, Helen’s mocking laughter floating over to me.

  “Still Miss Prim after everything?”

  “I’m simply reading, that’s all,” I huffed defensively, turning a page of the book in my hand loudly, and I continued to pretend to read as she joined me in bed.

  “Turn the lamp out when you’re done,” she yawned, flinging an arm over her eyes, and I set the book aside, bathing the room in darkness before trying to find a comfortable position in bed.

  Helen groped for my arm and draped it around her waist. “You’ll fall off the bed, ninny, if you scoot any further away,” she chastised.

  My hand rested on her belly; her hair pressed against my face, her bottom against my groin.

  Just as I made to retract my hand, Helen reached for my fingers.

  “Helen…” I whispered in embarrassed delight.

  “Hmm?” she murmured vaguely, the query turning into a small sigh of pleasure as my traitorous fingers started to stroke her stomach before she grabbed my hand and placed it on her breast.

  Her nipples hardened against my caressing hands.

  “You can suck them again, if you like,” she said after a lengthy silence, and at the languid invite, she moved onto her back.

  Hand trembling slightly, I unbuttoned her dress and circled her large, tight areolas slowly with my fingers, marvelling at how easy and natural it felt to be with her like this; how right it felt to fall into this intimacy with her so quickly, especially after how long it had been.

  “W-what if someone were to come in?” I whispered then.

  Helen snorted. “Why would they? They’re all abed themselves.”

  At the assurance, I became bolder in my caresses, the kisses to her breasts soon turning to drawn out suckling.

  “Harder,” Helen demanded on a low grunt, and I increased the pressure of my mouth happily.

  I pulled away for a moment, rubbing my fingers over her jewel hard, wet nipples.

  “Hmm – I wish there was more light in here so I could see them,” I said wistfully then.

  “Put the lamp on then,” Helen said simply.

  “Oh – oh I couldn’t. What if someone should see the light on and-”

  “Will you give it a rest?” Helen said in fond exasperation, reaching over me to light the lamp on her bedside table.

  As mellow light filled the room, I blinked, my eyes adjusting slowly. I took in Helen’s flushed cheeks and bare breasts, the bold sight wonderfully erotic.

  “Beautiful,” I murmured shyly and Helen grinned.

  “Glad I meet with your approval,” she said archly, snuggling up beside me, throwing a casual arm over my hip as we lay facing one another.

  I touched her pink areola, now soft and wet from my mouth, the nipple no longer hard but flat and soft to the touch.

  I watched in wonder as it hardened once more beneath my massage, and then watched

  Helen’s capable fingers as she subjected my own breasts to like treatment.

  She kissed me suddenly – and briefly – her eyes holding mine the whole time.

  “I just thought – isn’t it strange you’ve hand your lips on my tits but we ain’t kissed yet?”

  Helen mused then, smiling, her eyes admiring as she smoothed a hand over my chest. “I promise I’m not usually so easy – a girl has to woo me a bit before she can get into my bodice,” she grinned.

  Our bare breasts touched as we held each other, and I gave her a quick kiss in return. It went on like this for a little while; quick presses of the lips, breasts touching, hard nipples rubbing, and it was bliss.

  And then the kisses weren’t quite so brief and chaste.

  Helen moaned quietly into my mouth.

  “Oh, bloody hell,” she muttered, pressing her face into my neck. “The last thing I feel like doing now is being quiet. You make me want to scream and shout,” she giggled, and I smiled into her hair.

  We kissed again before pulling reluctantly apart.

  “Suppose we should turn the light off,” Helen said grudgingly before giving me a saucy look.

  “Unless there’s anything else you want to see?”

  “Yes please,” I bit my
lip, and her eyes twinkled.

  We both lifted our night dresses and pushed our undergarments down before admiring one another’s bodies, sheets kicked down to the foot of the bed.

  Despite the cold room, I barely felt the chill.

  Helen’s bush was darker than I’d expected, given her blonde hair, and it was shaved so that she was left with a neat line of hair – in comparison, I felt a little embarrassed by my own natural bush.

  “You shouldn’t be – it’s lovely,” Helen said quite firmly when I voiced such aloud. “I only do it because I got into the habit of it. I once shaved it all off completely. Lord, it was a pain growing it back,” she shuddered. “I like a full bush,” she nodded, her eyes fixed squarely on my groin.

  “Well…yours looks better. I never knew people did such – I wouldn’t know how to do it.”

  “I’ll show you on the weekend,” Helen said, and at the invite, my entire body shook as desire coursed through my limbs; through my swollen breasts and leaking cunny. “But don’t take off too much.”

  We shut the light then, pulled the blanket up again, kissing beneath the covers, touching one another until we both climaxed in silent pleasure in each other’s arms.

  ***

  On Sunday after attending the morning Church service, everyone on Maypole Street stopped by for a birthday party of one of Simon’s friends – but Helen and I left soon after popping in for a quick hello, Helen giving some excuse for our leave-taking: an empty house, even for a short while, was a wonderful concession we couldn’t refuse.

  I knew it without a doubt – I was falling quickly for Helen. Had probably already fallen fully.

  Her boldness was refreshing – both regarding her general outlook on life and her sexual desires…but I wondered if she felt the same. Given how experienced she was, this could very well be a simple liaison for her.

  Helen was all business one we reached the house. She marched upstairs and we filled the bathtub with warm water before Helen ordered me to undress whilst disrobing herself.

  Anticipation made me clumsy and restless, and in the raw light of day, I took in Helen’s glorious body; her breasts stood large, the nipples erect in the chilly room; her belly was soft and slightly rounded, her hips wide and shapely. The mere sight of her had my centre throbbing with desire.

  “Bet you never spent a Sunday like this back at home,” Helen laughed suddenly.

  “Just think…we were listening to the Sunday sermon not an hour ago,” I shook my head in wonder. “I feel guilty…I’ve been thinking about this all day,” I bit my lip then.

  “Not whilst the good Reverend was lecturing and posturing, surely!” Helen laughed, stepping into the water.

  “Well…I tried not to,” I looked away.

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed about,” Helen waved for me to join her, reading my discomfort clearly. “I’m sure you weren’t the only one in there thinking about such things, nor will you be the last.

  ”

  “Hmm – but I was probably the only one thinking it about my cousin,” I sighed.

  Helen chuckled. “Well, that does sound dirty – but we know the truth.”

  We sat opposite each other in the small tub rather awkwardly some moments later, limbs entwined, and Helen washed herself briskly, rubbing between her legs, under her arms.

  “Get yourself washed quickly,” she advised. “I suspect they’ll all be home within the hour.”

  I was disappointed at the realisation and did as bade – it would have been bliss to linger in the warm water with her, to put my mouth to her wonderful nipples again.

  As I stepped out of the tub and started to dry myself, Helen said,

  “No – not yet. Sit down over there,” she gestured to the wooden stool by the sink.

  I did so hesitantly, feeling vulnerable in the cool air, more so when Helen knelt before me and said efficiently, “Spread your legs, then,” all the while holding a razor in her hands.

  “Don’t worry,” she laughed, “I’ll be careful,” and then she was gently pushing my legs apart, rubbing a foaming soap into my slit, her fingers thorough. I held onto the cold porcelain sink to keep myself from keeling over as pleasure thundered through me.

  Moving her hand upwards, Helen rubbed the soap into my still wet bush before slowly putting the razor to it.

  She was finished quickly, barely taking off much, just enough that it was a little neater.

  “Oh,” I said, eyeing her work critically, knowing my face must be flaming red. “I thought you’d take off a little more…”

  “Well, if you want me to,” she mused, staring at my groin, and suddenly her manner wasn’t quite so professional and efficient – in fact, I had quite missed that look in her eye all the while she’d worked on me, too intent on watching the sharp razor near my flesh. “Only, I think it looks beautiful – it was beautiful before, too,” Helen smiled widely, and then she bent over my lap and kissing my nether hair, shooting me a quick, nervous look afterwards before looking away.

  She stood then and reached for a towel, handing it to me, but I didn’t take it. Instead, I settled my hands over her hips and pulled her towards me until her cunny was level with my face, and I kissed her, as she had me, and looked up to see her peering down at her, nipples tight and belly taut.

  “May I kiss it?” I said then, stroking her bush.

  Helen nodded. “Oh, darling – you don’t know the things you make me feel,” she sighed hoarsely. “Of course you can…but – but we’ll have to be quick.”

  We changed positions until she sat on the stool and I was on my knees before her. She parted her legs wordlessly, her eyes hot and bright, and as much as I wished to admire her pink, wet lips at leisure, time was depressingly short.

  Making love at night in the blissful privacy of her room at the back of the house – with the bathroom between her room and the next one, making it even easier to do so – was one thing: but touching each other, looking at each other in the light of day was quite something else. It felt less secret, more real.

  I kissed her damp slit, her hard clit. I licked at her entrance, throbbing and glistening, her taste strong and delicious, her scent musky and better than any expensive bottle fragrance my mother paid hefty coin for.

  As I moved my eager mouth over her cunny, my own responded with alarming swiftness, and as Helen lifted and wrapped her legs around my shoulders, holding me to her groin in urgency, I rubbed at myself, the both of us finding desperate release in almost perfect synchronisation.

  “You’ve no need to worry that I’ll run away in shocked horror after doing – well, that,” I said as we dressed hurriedly. “You taste wonderful,” I said shyly, licking my lips to savour the last of her essence. “I always imagined what it would be like but it was far beyond my anything I thought.”

  “You truly mean that?” Helen cupped my cheek, and we stood in the now spotless bathroom, eyes intent on one another.

  “Truly,” I nodded firmly.

  Helen kissed my cheeks, my lips, her eyes wet, smile wide.

  “Look at me – acting all daft!” she chuckled, wiping at her eyes. “I’m not upset,” she said on a broad smile then, reading my confusion. “I’m so bloody happy, that’s all!” she laughed loudly, and then we descended the stairs and attempted to look blasé as we waited in the living room for The Family to arrive, all the while grinning stupidly across at one another.

  Everyone arrived about an hour later – a fact that exasperated me.

  “Well, better to be safe than sorry,” Helen whispered as I discreetly complained, but she looked equally as annoyed.

  “Fiona and her mother are staying with us for the night, Helen,” Aunt Sophia said as Helen and I set the table for dinner. “They’ve got an infestation in their house – mice, I believe. Poor things. Fiona will bed in your room.”

  “Well, there isn’t any space in the bed,” Helen frowned, looking put out, and I, too, struggled to hide my disappointment.

  “
They’re bringing some pallets along – she’ll be happy to bed down on the floor,” Aunt Sophia dismissed, and that was that.

  Fiona was around young Simon’s age and snored with gusto once she finally got to sleep after chattering for hours.

  “Thought she’d never drop off,” Helen whispered over Fiona’s snores, and I squeezed her hand.

  “Goodnight, then,” I murmured.

  Helen gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and I moved away on a squeal of nervousness, but when we awoke in the morning, Fiona still snoring away, our hands were still entwined beneath the sheets, and the sight brought a big smile to my face.

 

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