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Archive-name: Samesex/sappho.ff

Archive-author: Sarah Jahn

Archive-title: Sappho

I looked at her studying on my bed, from my place at my desk. Every 

week she came over, sometimes more often. I thought it was a ruse 

to get to flirt but I wasn't going to bring it out into the open. It 

was more enjoyable to just enjoy her company and conversation as she 

gave it. We had been friends for over two years. This past year we had 

gotten much closer, each of us telling the other things we had never 

told friends before. Since a few months ago, the teasing we often used 

with each other had become more and more sexual. I wasn't sure what 

to think, as she smiled and touched my arm while she flirted. It was 

always in front of others, in public, so it was safe for her.  

Watching her bent over her book, reading so intently she didn't notice 

me staring, I wondered how she really felt. I had been having dreams 

lately that I woke from disturbed and excited...

Just last night I had dreamed I was dancing with a woman, dressed in 

heels, skirt, blouse, and surreally, a black feather boa. We had circled 

each other, gradually moving closer, then she was pulling me to her. I 

pressed my hips against hers, as she pushed me back upon the couch behind 

me. I sat abruptly, and she moved between my legs, rubbing against me, 

still kissing me deeply. Dazed, I moved my left leg behind her, difficult 

because of the skirt I wore. It slipped up my thighs and she ran her hands 

up to my bare hips, grinding herself against me. I felt myself getting wet,

warmth flowing inside me. Our mouths opened further, I moaned as she 

slipped her hand into me, her tongue sliding into my mouth as sensually 

as her fingers touched me. Then I was awake, confused and more than a little

alarmed. I remembered her dark curly long hair, piled on top of her head,

soft spiralled curls floating down over her ears, and blushed lips.

I whispered, gay? Me? At the least, the thought of sex with a woman excited 

me, or my subconscious. The more I thought about it, sitting in that dimly lit

room, with the Christmas lights glowing at the steamy window, I realized I 

relished the idea.

I got up, throwing the sheets aside, and went to the window. 

I leaned my forehead against the window, watching my breath condense on 

the icy glass. Looking at the white birches far below, I shivered. They 

swayed back and forth like dancers to a beat I couldn't hear, 

beckoning to me. I opened the window, letting in the freezing air. The 

breeze carried in the scent of wet earth and snow and old leaves, whipping 

the papers scattered on my desk around. The hills were almost black in 

the distance, distinquished from the sky that was full of brilliant 

stars shining above. I stared out the window, losing myself in the cold 

breeze that blew over my flushed skin. After becoming aware that I was 

shivering, I leaned out and drew the window handle to me, shutting it.

Getting back into bed, I felt a wetness between my thighs, and reached 

down to see what it was. My hand came back glistening clearly in the soft 

colored light. I lifted one finger to my lips and tasted it. With the 

residue of salt on my lips, I leaned back and shut my eyes. What would 

another woman taste like? I wondered. I imagined putting my hands on soft 

breasts, nipples asking to be mouthed, then stroking down along a rounded 

stomach, beside the dimple of the navel... Into the curve between strong 

thighs, my fingers surrounded by curling dark hair, into a familiar yet 

strange wetness and warmth, a body breathing and arching under my gestures.

As my mind drew me into this imaginary experience, I let my own hand pull 

up my nightgown, bunching up the fabric above my breasts to reveal my 


The coolness of my searching fingers made my nipples darker, harder. I 

felt the echo of the swelling I summoned deeper inside and drew in a 

small shallow breath. In my mind, I moved down further on the bed, my lips 

tracing the curves of the anonymous woman beneath me. I didn't see her 

face, only the light breaking over her body, the shadows as mysterious as 

her sex. I caressed her body, feeling the ladder of ribs under her taut 

fair skin, their rising and falling increasing with my attention. I bent 

my mouth to the intersection of her, my hands smoothing over her thighs, 

lowering to taste her as she let her thighs drift apart. I looked 

surreptiously at the rose-colored folds and the glistening hair above them,

sliding her open further with my hands, to see the wetness gathered there. 

Her scent reminded me of musk and vaguely of the sea. I tasted it on 

my tongue, feeling my own body respond to her low moans. I brought her 

smooth calves above my shoulders, and let her responses guide my movements. 

Under my lips, I felt her fervered skin tremble, her legs shudder in my 

arms. Her head was thrown back, her breath coming in gasps. She had

thrown her arms back behind her, and was grasping the bedframe, quivering up 

and crying out more and more. I savored her movements and taste, each moan 

bringing me intense enjoyment. In my own bed, I bit down on my bottom lip

to choke back my loud groan of release, corresponding to her orgasm in 

my imagination. My eyes squeezed closed, then I opened them with a sigh, 

relaxing again into the warmth of the covers. Sleep came quickly, and 

I dreamed of things and people that disappeared from my mind as I woke

the next morning, but left me with a sense of unfulfilled desire. I didn't 

remember any more scenes with the dark-haired woman. 

I went through classes as usual, but in the back of my mind was a new 

undercurrent that rose up every so often to remind me of my leanings. I 

passed women on the way to lecture halls who returned my gaze, and in 

their eyes I saw they knew it was not out of friendliness that I looked 

at them, and that the curiousity was returned. Walking around campus was 

now filled with sly glances and blushes, not all mine. I smiled thinking 

about it, pretending I was listening to a lecture about linguistics. The 

professor misinterpreted my small smile and half closed eyes, and 

looked at me bewildered but with his own smile. This amused me more. My 

smile got bigger. Classes went on and on, and now I was looking at my 

study partner in my room. 

She flipped a page in her thick hardcover book, mulling over the literature 

of the 1800's. I reached behind my stereo to pull out a cassette, and 

inserted it into the machine. Pressing "Play", I knew the music would 

disturb her and knew also that was why I was doing it. I wanted to talk. 

As the first notes started up, she looked up from reading questioningly. I 

smiled and asked "Do you mind taking a study break for a few minutes? My 

notes are starting to look like secret code." 

"No, no I don't mind at all. You have any soda left? My throat is killing 

me from that cigerrette." 

"Yeah, coke or ginger ale. Which do you like?" I bent to open the fridge, 

waiting for her reply. 

"Ginger ale." 

I picked out the plastic bottle and poured some into a mug. The foam crept

over the side, I dipped my finger to it and wiped it off, and absentmindedly

sucked the liquid off my finger. I looked up to see her looking at me oddly. 

Actually oddly was not quite the right word. It seemed more like a realization

surfacing. Of what I wasn't sure. I got up from the chair and handed the

cup to her, turning it so she could grab the handle. Instead of taking it 

that way though, she let her hand slip over mine. I stood there by the 

bed, holding this cup, unsure of what exactly to do next. I smiled nervously, 

my tongue moistening my lips. She let her hand linger a moment longer, enough

so I was now painfully aware of her body heat and the subtle softness of her 

fingertips pressing into my hand. She took the mug and took a sip, keeping 

her eyes on my face. I didn't sit back down immediately but paused, watching

her. As her tongue darted out and licked the rim, curving around the edge, 

I realized the rather unpleasant sensation of my heart racing, and my 

palms getting moist. Oh God, I was so unsure. Maybe it was just my deranged 

mind that was misinterpreting her actions, I didn't want to make an 

absolute fool of myself and lose her friendship. She held my eye, and 

licked her lips, mimicking me. She stretched her arm out and put the cup 

down on my desk, then rearranged her body on the bed, so she was sitting 

there cross-legged, hands under her chin. 

"Why don't you sit on the bed? Standing there doesn't look too comfortable." 

Unthinking, I climbed up on my own bed, and sat next to her. She kept her 

body angled away, then reached out again, this time to grab her book and 

open it back up to where she had stopped. Her hair fell forward, hiding 

her profile. I looked at her sitting there, at her bright hair flowing over 

her shoulders, revealing the pale skin at the back of her neck, and the 

hem of her shirt, that curved down closely over her torso. Before I could

think about what I was doing, I had leaned forward and reached up to turn 

her face to mine and was kissing her deeply. Inwardly shocked at myself, 

I reached down and pushed her book away. She didn't protest, but instead 

pulled me closer. Her mouth, tongue, smell, hair, breasts, were all I 

knew. My hands were under her shirt, pulling it up, over her head, tousling 

her glossy hair. She lifted her arms to the ceiling as I unclasped her bra, 

stroking the topography of her back as I did so. The lace and nylon bit

was thrown to the floor along with her shirt, and soon the rest of her clothes

were there too. 

Her lips turned up into a secretive smile, looking at me, sitting on the

blanket casually, her legs open. 

"So, do you like what you see?" she whispered, then leaned to me.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was naked too. She embraced me, and 

lowered me to the bed. We lay side by side, feeling the warmth of each 

other's bodies down the edges of our hips and ribs. My hand trailed over 

her ribs, into the valley of her waist, then up over her hip, down her

thigh. At my touch, she turned to face me and opened her legs, letting one 

dangle over the edge of the mattress.

She was as excited as I was, I soon discovered. I held my breath 

as I touched her, gingerly pushing a finger into her, letting the heat and 

moisture take me in. I put in another, and stroked her rhythmically, 

watching her rock back and forth against my hand. Something was warming in 

me, I felt myself loosening up. I bent over her prostrate body to take 

in a nipple. I took it into my mouth, sucking it gently then harder, 

increasing the pressure to a light bite that she shivered at, letting out 

a quiet drawn out "yes". I sucked at her like a baby, feeling her getting 

harder between my lips. I moved my hand out, slick with her wetness, 

caressing her lips, up to her center, then down again, then up, liberally 

covering her. I let my fingers slide to the top of the folds, and frigged 

the nub lightly.

She shuddered hard and pushed down towards me. She had spread herself out 

fully on the bed, her mouth opening to draw in breath then close into a 

tight line to suppress moans. Her cheeks were flushed pink, heightening the 

whiteness of the rest of her face. I pushed myself lower over her, then 

pulled her legs apart, holding a calf in each hand, feeling the muscles in 

them tense as I sucked her. She had abandoned all pretense at modesty, and 

was now moaning openly. I loved the sound. She pushed herself up against me, 

trying to get me to give in to her demand for instant sastifaction. I felt 

myself sliding down towards the end of the bed, along with the quilt and 

blanket. Regaining my position, I forced her back up, and paused to smile 

at her. Frustrated, she growled and said sternly "I wouldn't start a job 

then leave it unfinished if I were you." 

I laughed, and responded by nipping her. She squealed, then quieted

again as I resumed. The slickness on my lips had spread to my chin, bringing 

up disjointed memories of Thanksgiving turkey dinner. I pushed these away, 

concentrating on the sounds filling the tiny dorm room. As I did, I felt 

a sympathetic wetness between my thighs, as I moved closer to her. My skin 

dragged on itself, pulling the sensitive folds back and forth. I gasped, 

tightening my grasp on her legs. I closed my eyes and forced myself to 

concentrate on her alone. She was now moving regularly to meet me, the 

movement of her and taste was increasing to a climatic point. Her shriek did 

not go unnoticed, by me, or I'm sure, by my suitemates.

Her orgasm was glorious, matching her expression. She quivered, then relaxed,

drawing herself up, to take me into her arms and hold me. I kissed her 

lightly on the mouth, letting her taste herself. She licked my lips and 

smiled, drawing me down with her to the bed. I closed my eyes, and let myself 

go to her attentions....

The End


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