Forbidden Love (Sapphic Historical) (6 page)

“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.

***

“Has Helen already
departed?” I asked the coach driver, Andrew, as I made my way to the stables following the working day.

“Aye – she left at five.”

I grumbled, annoyed to have been kept behind at the Moreland’s late today.

By the time I reached home – for that was truly how I thought of the place now – I walked into the living room to find everyone settled down with cups of tea in their hands – and two extra people.

“Oh, Lara! You’re home!” my mother cried, hurrying over to me and pulling me into the room.

“Say hello to Mr Allen– you remember him?”

I nodded, taking in the handsome older man who rose to greet me.

“He’s been abroad and learned belatedly of papa’s passing.”

“Indeed,” Mr Allen said, patting me on the arm. “Terribly uncouth how everyone turned their backs on you all– shameful, I say.”

“Yes…” I blinked up into the man’s face, feeling bewildered.

“Suspect you must miss London! And Surrey, no doubt! Well, it shan’t be long before you’re back-”

“Back?” I repeated, staring at my mother and brother, who were both wearing identical looks of blinding happiness.

“Mr Allen has asked for my hand, darling. We are to be wed!”

I shook my head slightly, wondering how I could have been so blind to have missed that look in their eyes; that look that spoke of intimacy…and it would seem they’d known each other intimately for quite some time. I hadn’t really thought much of the man who’d lived in our village in Surrey for years, other than that he seemed pleasant enough, but to think that my mother had likely been carrying on an affair with him behind papa’s back…

“Well, we had best head off.”

“You mean we’re leaving tonight?”

“Of course, dear,” my mother’s thin brows rose in fond exasperation.

My eyes met Helen’s but she quickly looked away, saying calmly. “I’ll put dinner on,” before striding from the room, and I followed behind her.

“Well, everything turned out right in the end,” Helen said, not looking over from the stove.

“For mama and William, perhaps.”

Helen looked over her shoulder at last.

“You know where my fate lies that way,” I looked at her meaningfully, speaking of an unhappy marriage with a faceless, nameless upstanding young gentleman. “And I was rather happy with how it was turning out right here,” but we couldn’t continue the conversation for

William was trundling happily up the stairs to bring the luggage.

Aunt Sophia served everyone tea but it was plain to see that my mother was itching to get going – we were to travel for about an hour, London bound and separately from Mr Allen, of course, as propriety dictated – before staying the night in a hotel.