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From: Colleen Thomas <MissColly@aol.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} [sapphic] "Inspiration" by Colleen Thomas
Date: Sat,  7 Sep 2002 17:10:04 -0400
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Colleen Thomas
MissColly@aol.com
09/07/02


                Inspiration


Clia Johansen sat at the very back of the darkened auditorium
fighting to keep her eyes open. At the podium Professor Roberts
rambled on about Alexander the Great or Hannibal or some other long
dead person that Clia really couldn't care less about. She had been
dumped in this class to fill her history core requirement and hated
it with the same passion she hated Algebra and Biology. Clia was
going to be a writer and she detested wasting her time in mundane
courses when she felt she should have been taking more important
things. Unfortunately for her the school had a large number of
journalism majors and all the good writing classes were filled with
upperclassmen before she was allowed to register. Her faculty
advisor had suggested she knock off a lot of her core classes this
semester and worry about the writing classes when she was a junior.
So instead of sharpening her skills as a writer she was the only
sophomore in an auditorium full of freshmen and one of several
students trying not to fall asleep while the professor droned on.

Clia had chosen the second to last row on purpose. Partially to
avoid the notice of the prof, she was sure she would be sleeping
away many of his lectures and partially to avoid unwanted attention.
She had avoided the very back row because she knew in classes like
this the Profs often had TA's patrolling to make sure the students
weren't napping.

Clia was tall and had the blonde hair, big bust and fair skin that
were a gift of her father's Swedish forbearers. Her mother's only
real contribution to her looks had been the dark eyes and soft
features of her Greek ancestry. She was exotically beautiful and
wore baggy clothes and no makeup to down play her looks. Clia told
herself she wanted to be known for her writing and not her looks,
but secretly she had never been comfortable with the attention the
young men had been giving her since high school.

Whenever she thought of this she was forced to grin. Here she was,
hoping to be a writer of love stories and she had never even been in
love. She had won a few local awards for her erotic poems and she
had never even more than kissed anyone. I should be in a class
learning about writing and not wasting my time in this godforsaken
auditorium, she thought bitterly. I hate history.

"Why?"

The softly accented voice came from behind her and she turned
towards it without thinking. The speaker was a girl seated behind
her and one seat to her left. She was small and had a very lush
figure with dark curls and dark eyes. The indirect light made her
olive skin seem to shine. The short skirt and poet's shirt she wore
accentuated her heavy breasts and wide hips. Her long legs were bare
and beautifully sculpted. From her vantage point Clia could almost
see up the girl's skirt and blushed in confusion when she realized
she was trying to do just that. The girl's dark tresses were held
back by a green hair band with tiny golden leaves embroidered into
it. Her dark eyes seemed to be bottomless and very wise for someone
so young.

"I'm sorry, did I say that out loud?" Clia stammered.

"No silly, I read your mind," the girl replied in that same softly
accented voice. It was musical, melodious in it's own way, but
deeper than Clia would have expected and the accent was very
sensual.

Clia wasn't sure if the girl was being sarcastic or not. Obviously
she has said it out loud and she felt like she should be angry, but
was unsure of exactly what she should be angry about.

"You still haven't answered my question, why do you hate history?"

Clia glanced around to make sure no one had noticed them talking in
class, but everyone seemed oblivious too them. She felt like she
should resent that last statement. The implication that she was
expected to answer annoyed her, but she found herself fascinated
with this girl and her strange accent. She wanted to impress her for
a reason she could not define. Not wanting to sound like your
average college kid complaining about classes and professors she
thought about it a moment before carefully wording her answer.

"I am going to be a writer. I don't need to know all this stuff, I
mean really, it's not pertinent to my life,"

"Indeed? What exactly do you write that is so brilliant that it
allows you to claim a right to ignorance?"

"I write love stories, epic romances, love poetry, I don't need to
know anything about history for that. I mean, they are all dead so
who cares? And I am not ignorant!"

The girl chuckled softly and picked up the single book on her desk.
It was a large volume, like an unabridged dictionary. She slipped it
into the simple canvas bag she carried and picked up the black
instrument case on the floor by her desk.

"Ignorance is not becoming to anyone especially an author," she
said.

"Stop calling me ignorant!" Clia exclaimed as her anger finally
overrode whatever power had been in possession of her before.

"As you wish," the girl said as she stood up, "class is over, by the
way, Miss. Know-it- all,"

Clia turned to find Professor Roberts gone and most of the students
as well. She turned back to find the dark haired girl had vanished
as well. Wondering how she could have missed an auditorium full of
freshmen bolting for the doors like a cattle stampede she grabbed
her books and walked briskly out the double doors.

By the time she reached the quad Clia knew she was cutting the rest
of her classes. She wasn't feeling quite right and wanted nothing
more than to get to her apartment and lie down. The long walk to
day-student parking left her feeling even stranger, her skin was
tingling and she was short of breath. The interior of her little
Celica was broiling and by the time the air conditioner finally
began to make some headway she was bathed in sweat.

Once home she stripped off the sticky clothes she had been wearing
and turned the small window unit in her room to full. Something was
wrong, but she could not decide what it was. Clia decided to take a
quick shower before putting on clean clothes. She started the water
and waited for it to get hot. Her father had always teased her about
liking hot showers even on the hottest of days. He was second
generation Scandinavian and loved the cold. Clia took after her
mother and preferred it to be warm, but she didn't tolerate it being
hot well either. She climbed in and pulled the curtain letting the
hot steam engulf her. There was nothing in the world that relaxed
her like a hot shower and soon her mind began to wander.

Who was that strange girl, she thought. Why have I never noticed her
before? What kind of accent is that anyway? Clia remembered what the
girl looked like, the dark eyes, beautiful skin, heavy breasts, and
long legs. She was startled to hear a low moan over the pounding
spray of the shower. She was even more startled to realize she had
made it. She was shocked to find her left hand gently massaging her
pubic mound. Confusion, embarrassment, and arousal all mingled to
leave her standing as still as a statue under the spray. Clia forced
the girl from her mind and quickly finished her shower.

She dried herself briskly and returned to the now cold bedroom. Clia
put on a comfortable bra and panty set and pulled her big nightshirt
on. She curled up in the bed, closed her eyes and was asleep almost
instantly.

----

She was standing on a beach with incredibly blue waters lapping at
the shore. In this distance was an island that was dark and it
resembled a woman in repose. The sun was directly behind it,
lighting the sky in a series of layers, purplish at the horizon,
turning to a rosy red, then a fiery red with yellows and oranges
above that and the deep blue of the heavens on top. Clia could not
tell if it was rising or setting, but it was breathtakingly
beautiful.

A woman sat on the edge of the sand with her back resting on a large
moss covered rock. She had a stylus in her hand and a tablet across
her knees upon which she penned lines occasionally with a dreamy
expression. Her clothing consisted of a simple white dress cut in a
style Clia had never seen before although it seemed very archaic.
The woman's eyes never seemed to leave the island and Clia's eyes
were drawn back to it. The resemblance to a woman in repose was
uncanny and the falling sun caused it to appear as if she were
tossing in her sleep.

Clia sensed a presence behind her, but try as she might she could
not turn her head from the scene of the writer and the beach. She
started when long, olive arms slipped around her waist and a soft
pair of lips grazed her exposed shoulder.

"What? Who's there??"

The arms pulled her back against a warm soft body with large breasts
and wide hips. The lips kissed up the rise of her shoulder and then
up her neck while the hands gently stroked her hips. It felt so
sensuous and so arousing that Clia was caught between fear and
enjoyment. She struggled to turn her head, but all her efforts were
in vain. When the lips reached her ear small sharp teeth seized her
earlobe and firmly nipped causing her to gasp.

"Ohhhh, please, what's going on?"

"Shhhh, it's just a dream," a vaguely familiar and softly accented
voice whispered in her ear.

"Why can't I turn around?"

"It is not time yet for you to see me. Now, relax, no harm will come
to you I promise," the voice whispered seductively. The warm breath
on her ear sent a shiver through her and when the soft tongue
returned to lightly trace her earlobe a stab of excitement shot
through her.

"Where am I?" she asked, the question seeming inane as soon as it
left her mouth. In a dream you idiot, she answered herself.

"On an island in the Aegean sea," the voice replied as the hands
traveled up her body to cup her breasts. Clia gasped when they began
to gently knead her tits and she had to bite her tongue to keep from
moaning out loud when the thumbs grazed her stiff nipples.

"Who is that woman?" she managed to ask, trying to find something to
focus on other than the magical hands and sensuous lips.

"She is a poet, from long ago," the voice replied in a breathy
whisper. It returned to delicately tonguing her ear and Clia found
it hard to think. The hands on her breasts were gentle but firm and
they slowly built the pleasure of their manipulation until her
nipples ached.

"Which poet?"

"What does it matter? She died a long time ago," the voice replied
before the lips slipped back to her neck.

The writer's face was now rapt and Clia was shocked to see the
woman's hand had left the tablet and was now rubbing gently between
her legs. Clia groaned when one of those magical hands slipped down
her tummy to massage the crotch of her panties. She felt certain her
own expression mirrored that of the poet.

"Please, I have to know, who is she?"

The hand rubbing her crotch slipped under the waistband of her
panties and the contact of that soft skin on her own excited flesh
nearly made her cry out. The index finger forced it's way between
her now slick lips and began to deftly stroke her clit. Clia's
pelvis humped involuntarily against that hand.

"Ohhhhhhh.. please," she moaned. Clia was no longer sure if she were
begging for the woman's identity or for release.

"You would know her as Sappho, this is the Isle of Lesvos, and
perhaps history is not as uninteresting as you think?" the voice
said. There was amusement in the tone, but before Clia's reeling
mind could put all of the information together the fingers suddenly
squeezed her clit.

Clia came awake as they dying echo of her scream reverberated around
her room. Her nightshirt was up over her bust and one hand was
squeezing a breast. Her other hand was wedged between her legs and
still furiously stroking her throbbing clit. Her hands slowly ceased
their attentions as the powerful waves of her orgasm passed. She
felt so calm, so relaxed and almost drifted back into sleep before
her mind put all the pieces together.

Sappho! Lesvos! Those lips and hands! That voice!  She sat up
violently in her bed while her eyes darting around the room seeing
nothing. In her mind's eye she was still seeing a sunlit beach, with
a small woman masturbating as she wrote. As the image faded her
bedroom slowly replaced the beach and her breathing returned to
normal.

"What a dream," she muttered to herself.

-----

Friday was the worst day of the week for Clia. Not only did she have
to contend with the anticipation of the weekend making her classes
seem longer, but also she had four in a row and she detested them
all. She looked at the stack of books on the dresser as she rose and
winced. Algebra, Biology, Chemistry and Statistics books sat there,
seeming to taunt her. She cursed her adviser and herself as she
stripped off her nightshirt. While it was true that she would have
all of her math and science requirements filled after this
semester,she was beginning to doubt she could pass them all. Looking
at the books again as she stepped out of her panties she realized
she hadn't done her algebra homework again. She was saying a quick
prayer that the Prof wouldn't take up homework when she noticed the
tell tale stains on the crotch of the pink garment.

The dream flooded back into her head as vividly as it had been the
evening before and Clia blushed deeply. She rarely masturbated and
never while thinking of a woman. The entire episode left her feeling
confused and a little disconcerted. The panties in her hand were
stark evidence of her enjoyment and she quickly tossed them in the
hamper by the bathroom door. This brought her eyes to the clock on
the wall and she realized she was going to have to run or she would
be late. The prof always took homework from late students and she
just couldn't afford a zero in his class.

Clia ran a quick shower and threw on the first things that she
pulled out of her drawers. A red bra and panty set, tight jeans and
a white tee shirt. She was already in the car and on her way when
she noticed that her bra could easily be seen under the shirt. There
was no time to turn back even though she dreaded the unwanted
attention it might bring. Day student parking was almost full and
she lost time finding a parking spot. Clia jogged to class and made
it a full fifteen minutes early.

This class had assigned seating and she had just settled in when she
noticed several guys in the front row whispering conspiratorially
and looking her way. The sniggering, obscene gestures and hungry
looks made her want to find a hole to hide in. The short jog to
class in the early morning heat and humidity left her shirt even
more see through. She had never been so happy in her life to see the
professor come in and call the class to order. The moment she
dismissed the class Clia practically ran out of the class and from
the building.  She couldn't bear the thought of one or more of those
guys approaching her.

Biology was in an auditorium and she sat near the back. It was dark
and she received none of the stares that had so unnerved her in the
smaller classroom. It was cool and dark and as the professor droned
on about mitosis she began to nod off.

She was standing on the beach again but it was darker. The sun
smoldered on the very edge of the waters turning them a molten red.
The poet was still there, her hand still inside her toga, but she
was no longer staring at the island. Clia followed her eyes to see
two nude figures entwined on a blanket that had been thrown
carelessly on the white sand. The two figures were writhing in each
other's embrace as the poet watched. Something was different this
time and it took Clia a few moments to realize she was alone this
time, her phantom lover was not there and she could turn her head
and examine things freely. She glanced back to see towering cliffs,
but her attention returned to the poet.

As Clia watched she said something in a language Clia did not
recognize and the two figures on the blanket changed positions. The
poet's free hand slipped inside the neckline of her gown to caress
her breast as she watched the two figures on the blanket. The motion
of her hands was slow, sensuous and unhurried, but it belied a pent
up intensity. Clia felt that the poet would bring herself to the
edge of bliss, but would not allow herself to cross over and once in
that heightened state of arousal she would take up the tablet and
write. Clia had used the same technique without the visual aids in
her own erotic poetry.

The strange scene before her piqued her curiosity. Clia wondered
just what it was that the poet found so engrossing and so powerful
that it could move her to write verse that was still held in highest
regard centuries later. Clia moved closer and closer, intently
scrutinizing the poet as she played with herself. Her expression was
indescribable; a mixture of abandon and concentration, while her
dark eyes were wild, euphoric and dreamy all at once. Clia stood
close to the writer now, and she observed the soft rippling of the
woman's small breasts under the tunic. Clia could see the thick
black pubic hair that covered her mound and could smell the musky
aroma of her arousal faintly on the breeze. The woman's hands moved
quicker now, but as Clia had predicted the poet tore her hands from
her body before orgasm overtook her. She snatched at the tablet like
a drowning woman would grab a live preserver and began to write at a
frantic pace.

The poet's eyes lifted from the tablet too the two figures and then
back to the tablet as more lines poured from her hand. It was then
that Clia realized she wasn't visible; the poet had looked right
through her. Entranced by watching the artist at work Clia had
totally forgotten the figures behind her until a ragged moan
eclipsed the sound of the surf and brought her attention back to
them. It was no surprise to Clia that both of the nude figures were
women. In the position they were in she couldn't see either of them
well. They lay one atop the other, but inverted, so that she could
see the woman on the bottom's long legs and only the top of the
other woman's head and her back.

Clia felt drawn to them, and moved closer making no more sound than
the wind across the sands. The woman on top was small with a thick
head of dark curls. She lay on atop the other woman, with her arms
under the other's thighs and her head buried in her lover's crotch.
Clia could see noting of the woman on bottom save her long legs;
even her sex was hidden from view by the brunette's hair, which
obscured her hips and inner thighs as well. As Clia watched the
woman on bottom began to thrash and moan. The smaller woman kept her
face glued to the bucking hips of her lover and without warning an
animalistic howl rang out.  The long legs tensed fiercely and then
slowly relaxed. Clia had moved closer or perhaps it was just a trick
of the dream, but she was looking down on the pair when the
brunette's head came up.

Clia gasped and sat up straight in her seat. The students near her
turned to look at her, many smiled sympathetically and returned
their attention to the black board. Clia wrote furiously, trying to
get all the notes on the board that she had missed, but her thoughts
were disjointed and sluggish. Only with great effort could she keep
her thoughts off what she had seen in her dream. The face she had
seen when the brunette had looked up continued to float before her
vision. It was beautiful and soft with lovely dark eyes, and a
rapturous expression and glistened in the red light with the juices
of her lover. It was none other than her mysterious classmate.

Clia stumbled through the rest of her day in a dreamlike trance. She
could not seem to make the distinction between reality and her
suddenly very vivid dreams. Everywhere she looked she would see her
mysterious classmate. She was always a face in the crowd or a
glimpsed figure moving just out of her line of sight. If she stopped
moving or stopped making her mind focus on something tangible she
found herself on that beach drenched in the red of a fading sun like
liquid fire.

She found herself in the cafeteria at a table by herself. She was
unsure of how she got there and of how long she had been there. A
plate of food was sitting in front of her and a half empty mug of
coffee. She sipped the coffee and found it to be cold as was the
food. Clia noticed that the place was nearly empty and the
janitorial crew was already at work. She glanced at her watch to
find it was nearly 4:30. Her last class had been over before noon
and she was almost certain she had been to it, but try as she might
she could not recall the lecture or the intervening hours.

Once she got to her apartment she felt the overwhelming need to
write. On rare occasions she had felt this need, the frenetic,
nearly delirious feeling had led to some of her best works. Writing
in this manic state, where 10 pages in an hour was not uncommon Clia
had discovered a joy that was almost orgasmic. She started a pot of
coffee and then grabbed a fresh composition book and several pencils
and sat down at the dinette in the kitchen. She opened the
composition book and picked up a pencil and fully expected to
explode into a frenzy of writing, but instead she just stared at the
blank page. She started several times during the next half hour, but
never got farther than a sentence or two before she crossed it out
and tried to begin again.

By evening she was becoming frustrated and angry. The feeling was
there, her body thrummed with it, but the words would not come. Clia
passed on going out with her roommates and stayed at the table, she
felt certain that inspiration would hit her at any moment and she
did not want to be far from her tablets when it did. The hours
passed slowly and nothing happened. By three o'clock she had
finished two pots of coffee and had two pages of starts crossed out.
She was startled by the door opening and her roommates retuning from
the clubs.

Sharon was drunk, as usual and hanging on the arm of some blonde
guy. Shelly was less inebriated, but was also with a guy Clia had
never seen before. Beth was the only one who seemed sober and as
usual she was alone. Clia was in no mood to deal with them or make
small talk with guys who only had one thing on their mind. She was
thankful that they barely spoke to her before heading down the
hallway. Only Beth stopped to ask how she was doing. Clia's
frustrated growl of a reply seemed to convince the petite brunette
that it wasn't a good time to talk and she retreated to her room.

Clia's apartment was one of the many new ones put up to house the
burgeoning population of the university. The walls were paper-thin
and soon the muffled sounds of sex drifted into the kitchen. Bed
springs squeaked and the occasional muffled groan filtered to her
ear. The sounds seemed to act as a catalyst and she found herself on
the beach of her dreams again. Sharon's crying out jerked Clia's
mind back to reality. Clia shook her head and went to get more
coffee.

I have such odd roommates, she thought as she made her coffee.
Sharon was a tall blonde and a complete slut, different guy every
night, never had a relationship that lasted more than a few rolls in
the hay. Shelly was shorter and stockier than Sharon, but still tall
for a woman and platinum blonde. She had just been dumped by her
high school sweetheart and was almost as bad as Sharon, but she
seemed to be looking for more than just a one- night stand. Beth was
the odd ball in most every respect. She was a small, petite,
brunette and very quiet, though not shy. She went out with them
every weekend, but to Clia's knowledge she had never brought anyone
home or gone home with anyone she had met. She was closest to Clia
in temperament and was probably her best friend at the university.
They could talk, but the enigmatic girl seemed to live apart from
the rest of the world and Clia often found her unapproachable. There
had always been something there, lying just beneath the surface that
Clia could never quite grasp.

Clia returned to the table and her open composition book. The house
was quiet now and the rhythmic ticking of her grandmother's clock
seemed to be beckoning her to sleep. Neither sleep nor words would
come and Clia was wide awake when first one and then the other guy
slipped out of the house. Time dragged on and her false starts came
less and less often. She was still filled with the urge to write,
but the words seemed to have deserted her.

The sun was already up before she finally gave up and padded down
the hallway to her bedroom. She passed Beth's doorway just as it
opened and Beth stepped out into the hallway. She was bleary eyed
and her mused hair and dazed expression lead Clia to believe she
must have just woken up. Beth wore only a thin t-shirt and black
silk boxer shorts, Clia had seen her dressed like this many times,
but today she seemed different. Clia noticed Beth's small breasts
and how they stood up and strained against the thin material of her
shirt. She found her eye attracted to the gentle curve of the
brunette's hips and noticed for the first time the girl's firm and
shapely legs. Clia's eyes returned to Beth's face, the girl was very
attractive; there was no doubt about that. She was staring and Clia
was startled to realize Beth was speaking.

"Cli?"

Beth's voice startled her and Clia felt her face flush. Rather then
respond she turned abruptly and hurried to her room. Clia could feel
the brunette's eyes on her back all the way to her room. Clia's
attempts at sleep were thwarted by the restless energy and feeling
that she should be writing. The disturbing encounter with Beth also
left her feeling restless and edgy. She tossed and turned in her bed
until she finally gave up and returned to the kitchen and her
writing tablet.

Clia barely noticed anything going on around her until Sharon asked
if she was going out with them. Clia begged off and was actually
relieved when Sharon didn't push the issue. She watched her roomies
leave for the evening from her place at the dinette. Sharon wore a
tight red mini dress that showed off her figure and left her long
legs bare. Shelly had on a white western shirt with a sting tie and
black flared skit and cowgirl boots. Beth wore a green body suit
with a short black fringed jacket and blue jeans. She also had
cowboy boots on and her black Stetson. Must be Bronco's tonight Clia
thought.

She studied her roommates with a detached view that she only
achieved when on an insomnia binge. Sharon was pretty, but not
overly so. She made up for it by dressing and acting in a way that
exuded sex. Guys flocked around her almost as if they could smell
sex and she reveled in it. Shelly was a little heavier than Sharon
and not quite as pretty. When she had first moved in she had been as
shy as Clia, but her boyfriend breaking up with her had changed her.
She had become as wild as Sharon and just as brassy. Clia felt like
it was a knee jerk reaction and that she would calm down some over
time. Beth was dressed the least sexy, but to Clia's eye she was the
most attractive of the three. She didn't exude sex appeal, but there
was a far away quality to her, something intangible, that Clia found
extremely appealing.

What am I thinking? She asked herself. She realized her scrutiny
hadn't gone completely unnoticed. Sharon and Shelly were chatting
away about this guy and that, who would be out, where they would go
if Bronco's was dead, but Beth was staring at her curiously. Clia
felt herself blush and looked away. She didn't look up from her
blank comp book until she heard the door close.

By the time they returned Clia was close to tears. She had never
experienced writer's block like she was now and that powerful need
to create was making it even worse. On top of that her mind would
not stay focused and returned again and again to her mysterious
classmate and if she could have admitted it to herself, to her small
roommate as well. The swirling emotions, lack of sleep, sexual
frustration and buzzing need to write all culminated in a whirlwind
that left Clia dazed.

Sharon was draped over the arm and shoulder of a huge guy with a
crew cut. Clia decided he must be on the football team from his huge
muscles and obvious athleticism. Shelly was with a short swarthy guy
with black hair and black eyes. Clia took an immediate dislike to
him. He had the arrogant look of an abusive bastard and since that
was the kind Shelly went after Clia had no doubt he was just that.
Beth was alone as usual, but she seemed far less bombed than she
normally was. She was just in that giggly state of being buzzed.

Shelly and Sharon made no attempt at conversation; they both had one
thing on their minds and retired to their bedrooms without more than
a casual hi to Clia. Beth started a fresh pot of coffee and leaned
against the counter. She was staring at Clia with an expression that
left the tall blonde hot and flushed. She made two cups of coffee
then sat down and pushed one across the table to Clia.

"Soooo, whats up?"

"Nothing," Clia said, hiding her discomfort by looking down to sip
her coffee.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing, why do you ask?"

"Well let's see, You have been walking around in a trance since
Thursday, you haven't backed out on us going out two days in a row
since you were sick last semester, You haven't eaten or slept in two
days, you tell me," Beth said with amusement evident in her tone.

"Two days?"

"Who is it hunny?"

"Who is who?"

"Oh come on, you can tell me. Is it Bobby? Or Jordan?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Cli, you have a crush on someone. It's so obvious. You can tell me,
I'm your best friend,"

"A crush?" Clia asked. It all became so clear to her then. Beth was
right she did have a crush on someone and the someone she had a
crush on caused her to feel sick to her stomach.

"Okay, so not Bobby or Jordan, a guy in one of your classes?"

"Oh God," Clia exclaimed. It all came pouring out then, the girl,
the dreams, everything. Clia was sobbing by the time she had
finished. Beth said nothing, simply listened until Clia had no more
to say.  She moved to the chair next to Clia and held her as she
sobbed.

"Shhhh, it's not as bad as all that. It's going to be all right,"
she whispered.

---

By the time class started Tuesday Clia was a nervous wreck. She
didn't know what to say or what to do, she found herself torn
between praying the girl wouldn't be there and hoping she was. Clia
arrived in class a half hour early and took her normal seat. She
started each time someone entered the room, twisting in her seat to
see who it was. Dr. Roberts arrived to call the class to order and
there was still no sign of the girl. Clia was not sure what she
felt, disappointment of course, but also a curious relief. On the
other hand she had to wonder if the girl had ever existed at all
outside of her imagination.

Clia found herself listening to the lecture today and actually
enjoying it. Rather than being boring she found her mind conjuring
up images of times long past. She found her fertile imagination
beginning to place characters of her own design in among the
historic personalities. She felt the creative energy begin to build
inside of her and she hastily pulled out her notebook and began to
scribble down ideas.

"You needn't write so fast," a soft voice behind her said. Clia
stiffened and then slowly turned her head. The girl with the dark
eyes was sitting behind her. Today she wore a simple white dress
with a modest neckline and hem that fell to mid calf. Clia felt her
breath catch, she had never seen anyone so lovely and her heartbeat
quickened in her chest.

"I...I mean..." Clia stammered.

"I am going back to my apartment after this class. Will you come
with me?" the girl asked in that soft voice Clia had come to love.
Clia tried to respond but no words would come. Her heart was
hammering in her chest and it hurt to breathe. She was so confused,
pulled in so many different directions and so unsure of her feelings
and of herself. This strange girl was inviting her back to her place
and Clia felt sure she knew what for. She was not at all sure she
was ready for this, but she knew she could not refuse either. In the
end she simply nodded her head.

The class was almost over, but the last few minutes seemed to last
an eternity to her. When the professor closed his book and gave out
the homework assignments Clia felt herself becoming incredibly
nervous. She was sweating and shaking and suddenly not at all sure
she could go through with this. The auditorium emptied out quickly
and soon it was just Clia and the girl. The girl was standing, her
book already in her bag and holding the black case Clia assumed held
an instrument of some kind. Clia felt her resolve melt and she tried
to think of a way to get out of going. She started to say something,
but her eyes caught the girls and she felt her will to resist fade
away like ice under the Aegean sun. She followed the girl out of the
history building and across campus in an almost trance like state.
She did not hesitate to get in the girl's car with her and
throughout the short drive to her apartment not a word was
exchanged.

The apartment was small and tidy, very comfortable and pleasant. The
girl fixed drinks and sat on the sofa next to Clia. It was only then
with their bodies so close together that Clia could find words.

"I don't know what I am doing here, I must be mad,"

"You are here to begin a great adventure. I, not for what you are
now, but for what you can be, have chosen you. In a very short time
we shall see if you are worthy of the gift I can bestow,"

"I don't understand,"

"No, but you shall," the girl said as she stood. A gleaming light
seemed to come from her body and as she disrobed Clia could only
stare in fascination. The light became intensely bright, so bright
Clia had to shield her eyes, when it faded she was awestruck. The
woman who stood before her was not the Greek girl she had known, but
a tall, statuesque woman with unearthly beauty and the wisest eyes
she had ever seen.

"What?"

"Do you not know me?" the woman said in a voice that was both
musical and wonderful.

"No, I don't,"

"I am Clio," the woman said simply.

"Clio? This has to be a dream,"

"No little one, it is no dream. I am the muse and I have chosen
you,"

"But, I don't even like history," Clia protested. Somewhere in her
reeling mind it occurred to her she was arguing with a figment of
her imagination. It seemed so real, but so had the beach dream. She
wondered if she was dreaming in Professor Robert's class at this
very moment.

"No, but you do not know history, or yourself, but that will change,
NOW!"

The final word echoed like a thunderclap and the world spun away in
a dazzling kaleidoscope of colors and tints. Swirling patterns of
light and color coalesced around her and she had the sensation of
falling, but not fast, almost floating downwards. This seemed to
last forever and yet happened in an instant. The paradox was such
that she nearly blacked out from the influx of stimuli. She closed
her eyes and tried to block out the colors but it did not work and
she became aware of sounds. Millions of sounds, the roar and clatter
of battle, the gentle patter of a summer rain, the voice of a man
crying out in pain, the scream of a woman overtaken by ecstasy, the
cry of a new born infant, the dirge of a funeral, and so many
others. She heard each with clarity, but at the same time they were
one cacophonous roar in her ear. She felt as if she would loose her
mind and then suddenly all was still.

Clia found herself standing on the beach of her dreams. There was no
poet this time, only the Greek girl from her class. She was sitting
on the rock that the poet had been leaning on and staring out at the
sea. Clia approached her carefully. The girl looked at her and
smiled.

"Clio?" Clia asked.

"In one of my many guises. This is the one you are most comfortable
with is it not?"

"Yes. Where are we?"

"You have asked that once before, but I will answer again, we are on
the Isle of Lesvos, in the Aegean Sea," she replied with amusement
evident in her voice.

"Why?"

"History has no beginning child and no end. If I am to be your guide
I had to start somewhere. Your own latent potential and desire lead
us here. So it is here that we will start,"

"Start what?"

"Your grand adventure. I am going to show you history, show it to
you in a way you cannot imagine, and in doing so give you the unique
insight into it that will mark you as one of the greatest of
writers," the muse said.

"Why me?"

"You have the potential, you lack only the direction and
inspiration. You are also unknown to man and you must remain so.
Should you ever have intercourse with a man, my gift is wasted, that
is the price you must be willing to pay for inspiration,"

Clia was unsure of what to say. She had always planed on getting
married and having children one day. That dream was a nebulous one,
with no particular husband in focus. For that matter, she realized
she was more enamored of the concept than any particular dream or
plan. Five days ago she would have laughed if someone had broached
the quaint idea of her having a muse. Now she believed with all her
being that the mythical patron spirits of creativity existed.

The bargain Clio offered was one that many people would have refused
out of hand. Clia weighed the options, but she knew before she
finished what she would do. She had always felt a deep commitment to
her art. Now she was being offered the chance at inspiration beyond
mortal ken. There really wasn't that much of a choice to make.

"Show me then," she said at last.

Clio smiled and nodded. She climbed down off the rock and motioned
for Clia to come nearer. Clia approached without fear or trepidation
this time. The pretty girl gently touched her shoulder and the world
dissolved around her again. The sounds and colors engulfed her again
and she struggled to keep her sanity.

"Relax," the soft voice of the muse urged her, "trust me and let go.
No harm will come to you,"

Clia forced herself to relax. The swirling colors and cacophonous
sounds crashed in on her and for an indefinite period of time she
lost herself in the storm. Slowly the colors began to coalesce into
scenes, the sounds wore away to a sound track and time began to flow
past her like a river. She was everywhere at once and saw everything
that had happened through time. An impartial observer, unaware of
her existence as a single being, she watched the rise of Greek
culture and it's fall. She saw huge empires rise and fall in the
dense jungles of South America and the long voyages of the Vikings.
There was far too much for her to ingest it all, but some things
remained clear in her mind even after years had passed. Clia sensed
the guiding hand of her muse, directing her attention to specific
events and people. The muse's choices in scenes that stuck out seem
capricious but Clia detected a common theme, they were always scenes
involving women.

Clia watched the mysterious workings of the cult at Delphi, she saw
the high priestess of an Assyrian cult conducting an orgiastic
ceremony where all the participants were women, in the far north she
watched a woman rise to lead a tribe of Celts on a bloody rampage,
and she saw a pharaoh's daughter control the mightiest empire in the
world from behind the scenes. In every case Clia witnessed women in
positions of power and authority, women who made significant
contributions to art, literature, statecraft and civilization. She
was conscious of the fact that none of these women had ever appeared
in any of her history lessons.

Clia felt the gentle urging of her guide pulling her attention
towards England. She felt her mind slowly focusing first on the
island, then on a particular castle, then on one room in that
castle. With a suddenness that was disconcerting Clia found herself
standing on the cold flagstones in a large room. Clio stood behind
her taller now and no longer wearing the guise of her classmate. She
could see the muse but she somehow knew that the occupants of the
room could not see her.

The room was huge, it's vaulted ceiling lost in shadows. Tapestries
decorated the walls and a large fireplace held a roaring fire. A
large poster bed dominated one wall. It was made of intricately
carved red wood and the canopy was made of a white gossamer. The
coverlet was black and appeared to be silk or satin. Across from the
bed a woman sat at a vanity, peering into a burnished steel mirror.
She wore a gown of gold brocade with a skirt so full Clia wondered
how she managed to sit. Two servant girls were busy brushing out her
long golden tresses.

The heavy oaken door swung inward and a woman walked into the room.
Clia was instantly struck by the woman's air of command and power.
She was tall and very slim with almost no hips or breasts. Angular
was the word that came to Clia's mind. There were no soft curves,
just planes and angles. Even her face seemed sharp and predatory
without being unattractive. She wore a simple black dress with a
scooped neck that showed off the small amount of cleavage she did
have. It was cut high on her hips and slit so that one could see
flashes of her bare legs when she walked. Her eyes were dark and so
was her hair. Something in those eyes sent a thrill through Clia, a
thrill that was part fear and part desire.

Both of the servants turned their heads to glance at the newcomer.
Each of them froze and Clia felt they were both feeling the same
thing she did, but more acutely. Their impassive faces lit with a
hungry look Clia recognized from the faces of the many men Sharon
and Shelly brought home. It was pure lust and Clia wondered if her
own countenance looked the same.

"Leave us," the woman said in a commanding tone. Both girls released
the blonde woman's hair and hurried out with their heads down. The
dark haired woman watched them go and then sauntered over to the
vanity. The blonde never said a word, but her shoulders were
hunched, almost as if she expected a blow.

When the dark haired woman took up a brush and ran it through her
hair the blonde flinched as if burned. The brunette smiled a wolfish
grin but continued to gently brush out the blonde's hair. She did
this for a few minutes in absolute silence and then pulled the
woman's long tresses out of the way and scraped her nails along the
blondes shoulder. A hiss escaped the woman's lips, but nothing more.

"Come dear sister, is that anyway to greet me?" the dark haired
woman said. She emphasized the word sister in a way that made it
seem ironic.

"Half sister. And only in law," The blonde said. Her voice was
tremulous and had a quality to it that invoked pity in Clia. The
dark haired woman smiled and lowered her face to the blonde's
exposed shoulder where she gently traced her lips over the alabaster
skin.

"Morgan, please, No..." the blonde whimpered. The brunette paid her
not the slightest attention and continued to kiss and lick along her
shoulder and up her neck. The blonde's hands fluttered to her breast
and back to her lap ineffectually. She seemed powerless to stop the
dark haired woman from taking such liberties as she pleased.

"Poor little Gwynevere," the brunette whispered, "your words say no,
but your body says yes,"

"Morgan? Gwynevere? This isn't real, it's just a legend," Clia said
as she turned on Clio to find the muse smiling at her. The scene
before her was frozen, like a move on pause, but unlike a freeze
frame for the fire still crackled and roared. Her mind was reeling
and things seemed to have more than one meaning and definition.

"This is your first real lesson, child. Legends abound and so do
myths. In every legend, every myth, every parable however there is a
grain of truth. These people existed, as did Arthur, Lancelot and
Galahad. They were not necessarily anything like the characters you
know but they lived, breathed and died nonetheless. For the
historian getting to the truth behind the legends is important.
Separating historical fact from popular fiction takes diligence,
research and above all a willingness to accept that the legend or
myth may be totally factually correct. Watch now what happens here
and learn a few of the secrets that have been lost to time,"

The scene before Clia began to flow again as the muses voice faded.

"Morgan please. We can't!" the blonde implored.

"Bah, just because you chose to marry my simple minded half brother
is no reason for me to stop taking my pleasure with you,"

"We can't Morgan, we just can't"

The dark haired woman growled and Clia saw anger flash in her eyes.
She hurled the brush across the room and grabbed the blonde by the
shoulders, bodily jerking the smaller woman to her feet. The blonde
tried to pull away but the darkhaired woman spun her around and
caught a handful of her long blonde hair. Morgan jerked her head
back and fiercely pressed her thin lips to the blonde's full soft
ones, effectively stifling her protests. The blonde's hands were
balled into fists and she smashed them against Morgan's chest
weakly. After three or four times her hands slipped around the
brunette's shoulders and her body melted into the embrace.

Clia could see the brunette's tongue exploring Gwynevere's mouth and
she felt her own body responding. Morgan released Gwynevere's
shoulders and scooped the startled queen up into her arms. Gwynevere
kicked her legs and under the white petticoats Clia caught flashes
of her stocking covered legs. Morgan unceremoniously dumped the
queen on her bed and stepped back. She kicked off her sandals and
grasped the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head. She
was naked underneath and Clia found herself staring.

Morgan's body was tight, muscular and lithe. She had almost no fat
on her and Clia could count ribs and clearly see the woman's pelvic
bones. Her pubic bush was thick and black and it covered her labia
and most of her pubic mound. She was not at all soft or lush and her
breasts were barely B cups, but she was elemental and powerful and
all together sexual. Clia felt the muse's arms slide around her
waist and she stepped back against the woman's body without
thinking.

Gwynevere was staring too and Clia could see the flush on her
cheeks. Morgan climbed on to the bed and straddled Gwynevere's hips.
She began to kiss the queen's neck, lips, cheeks and eyelids all the
while her hands plucked at ties, undid buttons and efficiently
loosened the queen's gown. The blonde still seemed hesitant and she
struggled against Morgan's hands, but the fight was not very
convincing. The gown seemed to take forever to get undone, but
Morgan's mouth was busy and her hands stopped often to caress and
knead. Clia was still a novice, but she had the impression Morgan
was deliberately taking her time, slowly working the blonde to an
ever higher state of arousal and need.

Clio's hands and lips were not idle either. Clia felt the soft lips
on her neck and the magical hands caressing her hips, but where
Morgan seemed intent on immediately arousing her partner, Clio
seemed to have the opposite intent. Her attentions were exciting and
sensuous, but not urgent and did nothing to take Clia's eyes or
attention from the scene being enacted before her.

Morgan dug her fingers into the gown and pulled it down. As it slid
across her body Gwynevere planted her feet on the bed and raised her
hips. Morgan slid all the way down her body until she was kneeling
at the foot of the bed with the rumpled gown in her hands. The
brunette tossed the garment to the floor and licked her lips as she
stared at Gwynevere. The blonde looked simply delicious, she wore
only her white stockings, which ended at mid thigh. Her pale skin
and those stockings lying on the black comforter formed an arresting
contrast. Where Morgan's body was all planes and angles, Gwynevere
was all curves. Her breasts were large, almost as large as Clia's
and capped with delicate pink nipples. These were hard now and stood
out from the small aureoles. Her hips were wide and lush and her
pubic hair was as blonde as that on her head. Her bush was thick and
luxuriant, but the pouting lips of her labia were easily
discernable.

Morgan clucked in her throat and then threw herself on top of the
supine woman. Their lips met and Morgan began to hump her hips,
forcing her mound to rub against the queen's. Gwynevere began to
respond, her hips pushing up to meet her lover's thrusts, but as
soon as she responded Morgan stopped.

Morgan sat up and began to stroke the blonde's hips. Her hands
lightly traced along the blonde's skin, brushing her mound but not
giving firm contact.

"Perhaps you were right, maybe we should stop,"

"Nooo," Gwynevere wailed.

"No? But you said we shouldn't" Morgan teased as her fingers moved
to the queen's now soaked slit and began to slide up and down it.
Gwynevere moaned and thrust her hips up, but Morgan kept the contact
to just a feathery tease.

"Please," the blonde whimpered when she realized Morgan was not
going to give her any release.

"Changed our mind have we? Well, you know what you will have to do
now,"

"I can't," the blonde whined.

"Too bad, your little kitty seems to be aching for some attention,"
Morgan said as she slipped one long finger just inside the slick
lips. Morgan pumped her finger slowly in and out of the queen's
pussy. Clia watched in fascination and the long digit became slick
and coated with the queens juices. In and out it sawed with a
maddening regularity. The blonde humped against it, trying to drive
it deeper. Morgan crossed her fingers and pushed them both in then.
The queen gasped and her hands slid down her body towards the
juncture of her thighs.

"No!" Morgan commanded. The queen's hands seemed to stop of their
own accord and then withdrew.

"If you want to spend, you are going to have to earn it little cow,"
Morgan said as she grasped one of Gwynevere's tits in her free hand
and roughly manipulated it.

"Please," Gwynevere gasped.

"Are you ready then?" Morgan asked in a too sweet tone.

"Yes,"

"The beg for it, little trollop"

"Please, can I lick you? I am dying to taste your spendings,"
Gwynevere groaned. Morgan laughs and withdrew her fingers. She moved
up the queen's body and placed a knee on either side of the blonde
head while her ass rested on the slope of the blonde's tits.

"Very well your majesty" Morgan said sarcastically, "get to work and
lick my quim like the harlot you know you are,"

As she said this Morgan rose up and then pressed her pussy directly
to the queen's quivering lips. Clia could only see the blonde's eyes
and nose but from Morgan's contented sigh she had to assume that
they queen was indeed eating her sister in law's pussy. Morgan
leaned back and rested her hands on the queen's full tits. She began
to pinch and pull the little blonde's nipples as she started to rock
back and forth.

"That's it harlot, use your tongue. Mmmmm, you are such a talented
licker, even better than your serving girls. Maybe I shall have you
service both of them, in appreciation for all they do for you. Would
you like that? I think you would,"

Morgan moaned and began to thrust her hips back and forth on the
queen's face. She moaned again and then sighed as her hips went into
a paroxysm of wiggling and she came. When she finished she slid down
the queens body. Clia couldn't take her eyes off Gwynevere's face.
The blonde's chin, lips and nose were covered in Morgan's juices. In
the strange light they glistened and Clia was caught between being
slightly repelled and wondering what it tasted like.

Morgan settled between the queen's legs and forced two fingers into
the blonde's snatch. She started to pump them in and out furiously
while her free hand massaged the upper part of Gwynevere's mound.
The queen began to jog her hips and make small noises that Clia
found very erotic. Her hands went to her breasts and kneaded them as
her orgasm approached. With little warning a cry burst from her lips
and she tensed. Her body thrashed violently on the bed and then
slowly she relaxed.

Morgan slid up next to her and held the queen in her arms, gently
stroking her hair. Gwynevere's eyes fluttered open and she smiled
contentedly and then frowned.

"What are we going to do my love? This cannot last forever,"

"Do not worry my little dove. I have taken steps to insure that
Arthur looses interest in you. It will be hard on you at first, but
trust me. In time you will be held up as the model of virtue and
tragic love, while I will be reviled as a temptress, perhaps even a
sorceress."

"You're no sorceress, unless one counts the magical way you make
this cold body respond to you," Gwynevere said. Morgan laughed
softly and while she smiled and tweaked Gwynevere's nose, Clia could
detect the sadness in that laugh.

"Men must find a reason, and a scapegoat. I do not mind the iniquity
I shall have heaped up on me, as long as you are mine,"

"I shall always be yours. No man can stir me to such heights. But
tell me, why do you think you will be reviled?"

"I am not without some skill at scrying my love. That old fool of a
court magician has shown me a few tricks. But that is neither here
nor there. Those idiots are still at the tournament at Trielle so I
have hours in which to pleasure you,"

With that Morgan gently kissed Queen Gwynevere and Clia found
herself floating back into the altered state of consciousness where
she, Clia did not exist. Time flowed once more and Clia watched
England enslaved by the Romans. Her eye roamed far and wide, always
drawn to the scenes Clio wanted her to witness first hand, but also
aware of all that transpired. She saw a redheaded queen lead the
Celts in an uprising against Rome, witnessed the orgies and
degradations of that fabled city and saw it fall. She saw what
really went on in the convents of the dark ages and the nightly
escapades in the boudoirs of the nobility. She saw the Spanish
enslave the new world, watched fleets of treasure ships sunk and saw
England rise to prominence. She was there when an anonymous Corsican
woman gave birth to a boy child. She watched this child grow to rule
all of Europe.

Suddenly she was herself again, standing on a rainy street in
London. She was less disconcerted this time, more comfortable with
the drastic shifts in her state of consciousness. A solitary figure,
wrapped in a voluminous cloak moved purposefully down the dimly lit
and empty street. From the seductive sway of her hips Clia knew it
was a woman. The figure stopped outside the doorway to a large home
and entered after a moment's hesitation.

Clia was instantly inside the home watching as a liveried butler
closed the door behind the woman. He then gestured for her to follow
him and led the way into a richly appointed parlor. A woman was
sitting on the settee and glanced up from the book she was studying.

"Your guest has arrived Mi'Lady," the butler said stiffly.

"Very well Codsworth, you may take the rest of the evening off," the
woman on the settee replied.

"As you wish madam," he replied and withdrew, drawing the doors shut
behind him.

"Do you have them?" the seated woman asked.

The cloaked figure produced a roll of parchment and said, "All is
there. Ships complements, sailing times, ordinance and commanders"
Her voice was sharp and had an air of command as well as a musical
quality, but the accent was soft and undoubtedly French.

"Give them to me, I must get them to Horatio as quickly as
possible," the seated woman said extending her hand.

"Not so fast ma Cherie, there is the little matter of payment,"

"Very well, name your price,"

"You know my price, do not play coy with me. This information is
vital and you have no time to waste in coquettish games. I have but
an hour, two at most before my ship must set sail. Come dawn I must
be miles from the English coast or I risk capture. If the papers are
so important to you then let's begin, if not then say so and I will
away. I already risk much just by coming here."

The seated woman nodded and stood up. Her hands went to work
removing the dress she wore while the cloaked figure sprawled in a
wingback chair and watched. As the dress fell away in parts more and
more of her lovely body was exposed. Finally she stood before the
cloaked woman in only her stays. Her body was lush and soft with
wide hips, pendulous breasts and long trim legs. Her pubic hair was
as thick and curly as the long dark tresses on her head. The seated
woman held a finger up and made a circular motion with it. The
aristocratic brunette pirouetted slowly on her toes. Her ass was
full and shaped like a teardrop. Clia found the woman attractive,
but she did not cause a quickening of her heartbeat like the
sorceress had.

The seated woman hooked both of her legs over the arms of the chair
and pulled her cloak up. She was naked underneath and with her legs
spread wide over the arms of the chair her fat labia were exposed.
The sparse hair covering her mound was dark, but seemed to have
reddish highlights that made it look auburn when the light hit it
right.

The finger beckoned and the other woman dropped to her knees and
crawled between the widely splayed thighs. There was no hesitation
on her part, she used her fingers to pull the prominent outer lips
apart and exposed the bright pink inner folds. The brunette pressed
her face tightly against the seated woman's sex and began to lap
delicately at the soft flesh. Clia was reminded of a cat tasting
something for the first time.

The seated woman sighed and cooed, allowing her body to relax while
pressing forward with her hips until her ass rested on the very edge
of the chair. Clia watched as the seated woman's pussy became wet
and swollen. The aristocratic woman continued to lick at it,
concentrating her efforts on the now erect clit. The cloaked woman's
hands tangled in her lover's hair and pulled her face tightly
against her dripping sex. Her voice became throaty and her breathing
ragged as she murmured exhortations in French. Soon her hips began
to jog and the aristocratic woman pushed a finger, then two in and
began to pump them in and out as she licked.

This seemed to be all the added stimulus the cloaked woman needed.
She mumbled something unintelligible and then moaned loudly as her
body began to shake. The brunette redoubled her efforts driving her
fingers in wildly and sucking the erect clit into her mouth to lash
it with her tongue.

Slowly the aristocratic woman slowed her attentions as her lover
came down from her orgasm. She continued to tongue the seated
woman's slick lips, but it was gentle now and seemed more of a
soothing caress. After a while of this gentle attention the seated
woman sighed and sat up straighter.

"That was delightful as always Ma Cheri," she said in the husky but
musical voice that Clia was growing to love.

"And you taste as divine as you did when last we met my love, but I
really need to send that information on," The brunette replied
seriously.

"Very well Ma Cherie, I shall let you take leave for a few moments
to get the information on its way, but only if you will allow me to
take you when you return,"

"As if you could escape without doing so," she said as she rose and
took the papers. She stuffed them into a leather pouch and hurried
out of the parlor. The cloaked woman did not stir from the chair but
waited patiently, her hand idly stroking her pussy. After a long
time a horse was heard galloping away from somewhere behind the
house. Moments later the brunette came in pulling a dressing gown
off her shoulders and tossing it over the back of a chair.

"Now my dear, how do we wish to proceed? Do we have time to adjourn
to the bedroom?"

"No ma Cheri, it will have to be quickly. As I said before my ship
must depart while it is still dark for obvious reasons. I should
really go now, but this is a risk I will run,"

"Damnable war," the Brunette said and she got on the settee on all
fours. She then let her weight fall onto her elbows, which forced
her posterior high into the air. Clia could see her pussy clearly;
it was open and exposed and also had a slight sheen to it.

"Yes, Damnable," the cloaked woman said as she approached and sat on
the settee. She ran her hands up the brunette's thighs and then
caressed the fleshy cheeks. With a gentleness Clia had rarely seen
she pried the aristocrats cheeks apart and then began to tongue her
wide open pussy. This continued for some time, until the Lady began
to moan and squirm.

The cloaked woman sat back then and slipped a finger into the other
woman's pussy. She worked it in slowly, taking her time and then
pumped it in and out for a few strokes before she added a second
finger. She continued to gently frig the brunette with two fingers
while Clia watched over her shoulder. When both fingers were slick
the woman's copious juices she pressed her two fingers together and
laid her index over them to form a triangle. This she pressed
forward slowly forcing it into the woman's spread pussy. A groan was
torn from the brunette as the three fingers dilated her opening. She
groaned again and whimpered softly as the cloaked woman's fingers
finally sank all the way in.

The sight of the woman's spread pussy with all three fingers buried
in it had a strange effect on Clia. She felt her breath quicken and
her nipples harden. The sight was so erotic and so strange, three
fingers inside with just the pinky and thumb outside. The cloaked
woman gave her lover time to adjust and then began to slowly fuck
her with her fingers. As the brunette's moans grew more and more
urgent the cloaked woman slammed her fingers in with increasing
force and speed. Clia was fascinated by the spectacle of the
aristocrat's pussy holding onto those fingers, almost as if it did
not want them to leave. Soon the room was filled with the liquid
sounds and moans of the brunette. When her hips began to jog and
Clia was sure she was close to coming the cloaked woman suddenly
stopped. She withdrew her fingers until just the tips were still
inside and Clia was stunned to see her pull her pinky in under the
others and press forward again.

"Ow!" the Brunette gasped.

The cloaked woman ignored her and pressed her hand forward. The
tight ring of muscle resisted for a short time and then yielded. The
fingers sank to the first knuckle into the tight space and Clia
found herself leaning forward to see close up. Clia felt the muse's
hands on her hips, pulling her ass back against he muse's pelvis,
but Clio added no stimulation. She merely rested her chin on Clia's
shoulder and watched the show with her.

The cloaked woman was now working her fingers deeper into the
brunette's pussy. She seemed to be walking a thin line between being
gentle and overcoming the resistance to the intrusion.

"Relax ma petite, " she cooed in that husky but musical voice.

The brunette groaned but exhaled and Clia saw her body relax. The
cloaked woman pressed harder and Clia watched in awe as her fingers
slowly disappeared. When the wide part of her hand reached the ring
of muscle there was the briefest pause and then her hand sank in
until her thumb was the only finger visible. With her free hand she
stroked the brunette's ass and whispered endearments to her. Clia
watched the aristocrats muscles gradually cease to tense and relax
as her body adjusted to being so full.

The cloaked woman began to slowly pump her hand in and out, but
adding a twisting motion as well that seemed to drive the prostrate
brunette wild. In no time she was thrusting back to meet the cloaked
woman's hand.  Her moans were continuous now, but punctuated by
little squeaks and groans. The cloaked woman worked her lover up to
an almost frenzied state and then pulled her hand out again until
Clia could see each finger up to the first knuckle. Clia couldn't
believe what she was seeing when the woman's thumb slid under the
other fingers and she pressed back into the brunette's quivering
cunt.

The Lady gasped then, making a sound that was half surprise and half
encouragement. Clia watched as the fingers slid back in, back to the
point where the widest part of the hand was caught on the ring of
muscle. Clia could see the strain as the muscles in the woman's
forearm stood out.

"My god," Clia exclaimed.

Before she could say anything more the tight ring of muscle gave and
the cloaked woman's whole hand, right up to her wrist disappeared in
an instant. The brunette let out a squeal that Clia could not
categorize as surprise, delight or pain. It seemed, rather to be a
melding of all three.

"Ohmygod," the brunette hissed, the words running together into one
stream of sound. Her haunches were quivering and the muscles in her
stomach and sides were knotting. The cloaked woman held her hand
there and did nothing more. Slowly the Aristocrat relaxed and ceased
making anything but mewling noises and little gasps. Only then did
the cloaked woman begin to work her hand in and out, twisting it as
she drove it in. Clia was rapt as she watched it, the small muscled
in the woman's forearm stood out and Clia realized she was flexing
and spreading her fingers inside her lover. The brunette's moans and
groans rose to a howl of animal lust as she began to orgasm. Her
juices poured down the cloaked woman's hand in a torrent as her cunt
contracted and spasmed around the fist inside it.

When the cloaked woman withdrew her hand the brunette collapsed on
the settee and rolled up into a fetal position.  The cloaked woman
rose and wiped the copious juices of her lover on the outside of the
dark cloak.

"That was well worth it," the cloaked woman said "but now I must
go,"

"Wait!" the brunette said, mastering herself and sitting up.

"Oui?'

"The information you brought will surely allow Horatio to best the
French and Spanish fleet. I have been seeing you for over two years
now and have never seen your face, or learned why you betray your
country or why you demand carnal pleasure with me as the price of
your betrayal. In truth I no longer care, I have found ecstasy in
your arms that no man, not even my Horatio can bring me. Will you
not answer my questions?"

The cloaked woman stood in deep thought for a while and then she
spoke. She was hesitant at first, as if trying to find the words but
became more confident as she went on.

"Very well, dear Emma, I will answer your questions. You have held
your tongue long enough and I think you are ready for the answers.
But I must be quick about it, the night is fading and I must be away
from England before the light of dawn betrays me. First the why.
Napoleon controls the continent, but he cannot rule the world as
long as the English fleet thwarts him. A man who rules the world has
no need of a woman, but a man kept from his goal will always need
someone to cry to. It is in my best interest that Napoleon controls
most of the world, but never all. My price was at first simply a
whim, something you could afford to pay for the information I wanted
your country to have. That has changed. I have found that sex with
men no longer satisfies me and I yearn for my next meeting with you
even as I moan in their arms to satisfy their egos. As to my
identity, have you not guessed already?"

With that the woman threw back the cloak from her head. The Lady
Hamilton gasped, as did Clia while Clio the muse chuckled.

"Josephine!" the Lady exclaimed in shock. The scene froze, like a
movie again and Clia looked to Clio.

"Your second lesson. Inexplicable things often occur for a reason.
Rarely do the strange twists of fortune so many put down to chance
actually depend on luck. In your studies keep an open mind and never
accept the trite explanations of so-called experts. Nelson's victory
over the French and Spanish fleet was indeed due in large part to
his valor, genius and determination, but he also had the great
advantage of the papers you saw exchange hands here. Always look
beyond the trite and you will find that fact is often far stranger
than fiction."

Clia nodded and looked back once again at the figures frozen before
her. They began to move again, but they were no longer in sharp
focus. Her perception expanded and she was once again the impartial
observer as time ran by. Wars were fought, empires rose and
crumbled, the boudoirs of the nobility were just as jaded and the
lot of the common folk just as full of sexual escapades as they had
ever been. Everything changed, but nothing really did. Clia saw the
millions perish in World War One where men fought for days over a
few feet of muddy territory, she saw the vileness, corruption and
utter disregard for life of the Nazi regime, she witnessed the
repression of the Communists and found herself unable to separate
the two, she watched the agonizing fear of a world living under the
threat of nuclear extinction and the build up of the cold war to
it's crisis point over the small Island of Cuba.

She found herself standing in a conference room. There was a large
table with many chairs around it at the center of the room. Seated
alone on one side was a tall blonde woman in the dress blue uniform
of a U.S. Navy Captain. On the other side was a tall brunette in the
drab green uniform of a Soviet Colonel. The blonde was speaking and
Clia became aware of the words in that disconcertingly sudden way.

"You'll never win Colonel, if those ships don't turn back we will
board them and if necessary sink them,"

"Bah, you Americans. So self-righteous, so proper. But you know your
blockade is illegal under international law, no one in the world
community supports you," the brunette countered in a strong voice
with a charming Russian accent.

"It isn't a blockade, it's a quarantine,"

"Play your semantic games, it is the same thing,"

"You are going to start a war," the blonde said ominously.

"We are going to start a war?!" the Brunette said jumping to her
feet, "you are about to start a war!"

"You're the aggressors here!" the blonde shouted as she rose to her
feet.

"Aggressors?! I'll show you aggressor you bitch!" the Russian
shouted and practically leapt across the table, riding the blonde
woman down to the floor. Clia was sure they would come to blows but
instead the blonde giggled.

"No fair!"

The brunette was sucking and licking her neck while her hands
plucked ineffectually at the American's coat. Frustrated in her
attempt to open it she took each lapel in her hands and ripped it
open sending brass buttons flying. Clia could see the large mounds
of the blonde's breasts heaving under her starched white shirt.

The blonde pushed the Russian woman up and ripped her coat open as
well. They stared at each other a long moment and then both laughed.
When they had mastered their mirth the Russian woman gently kissed
the American and then stood up. When the American woman gained her
feet there was an awkward silence.

"Are you sure about this solnishka?" the Russian woman said.

"Absolutely," the blonde said in a sorrowful voice.

"Very well, the rules are the same as last time?" the Russian woman
said as she began to unbutton her blouse.

"The same," the blonde said as she unzipped her skirt and stepped
out of it. The two women continued to disrobe in silence until they
both stood nearly naked. The Russian was tall and had an olive hue
to her skin. Her dark eyes and dark hair gave her a sultry and
exotic look. Her breasts stood out proudly and were larger and
fuller than even Clia's. Her hips were slim and her dark pubes were
trimmed into a tight triangle. The pouting outer lips of her pussy
were visible and Clia again felt her own arousal at the sight of
this lovely creature.

The blonde was even more spectacular. She was shorter than the
Russian, but had an even fuller figure and massive tits that a
stripper would have envied. Her blonde pubes were trimmed neatly and
her pink lips pouted open slightly. Long legs, wide hips and
flawless skin set off her blue eyes. She was intoxicatingly
beautiful, the kind of beautiful that aroused a pang of jealousy in
Clia. She still wore her black garter belt and stockings, which only
seemed to add to her sexiness. The two women stared at each other
for a few moments and then the Russian removed a coin from her
jacket pocket.

"Flip of the coin for first position?"

"I won last time so I will grant the option to you," the blonde said
with a wink.

"I'll take top then,' the brunette said as she tossed the coin onto
the pile of clothes at her feet.

The blonde nodded and retrieved her brief case. She set it on the
table and turned the dials on the combination lock set into the
cases front. When she opened it Clia could not see what was inside
but both women giggled.

"The worlds greatest instrument of diplomacy," the blonde intoned
with mock solemnity.

"Is that the same one?" the Russian asked.

"No, it's a new one. The old one was thinner. You had unfair
advantage with it cause you're used to Yuri's moose cock. This one
is even wider than he is,"

"But the advantage is still mine is it not? If it is wider than my
pig of a husband's tool it is far wider than your husbands noodle,"

"That's true, Bert is such a looser in bed, but you get no
advantage,"

"Really? And why is that?" the Russian said as she arched an
eyebrow.

"I been practicing," The blonde said and began to giggle.

Clia's curiosity got the better of her and she moved around the big
table to see what they were talking about. When she did she burst
out laughing. The inside of the brief case was red velvet and held a
massive double-ended dildo with a bottle of lubricant in each side
pocket. The blonde pulled it out and smiled at the Russian.

"Table of floor?"

"Table, the floor allows you to squirm too much," the Russian said
smiling.

The blonde nodded and her face suddenly became blank, like the
expression men used when playing cards, Clia thought. The Russians
face was just as blank. The blonde handed the dildo to the brunette
and climbed up on the big conference table. She lay on her back and
spread her legs wide. The Russian handed her the bottle of lubricant
and watched impassively as the blonde squirted a large portion into
her hand and worked it into her pussy. The Russian took the second
bottle and worked a generous amount into her own pussy before adding
copious amounts to each end of the dildo.

The Russian girl climbed onto the table and slowly forced a good bit
of the dildo into the groaning American. She then straddled her
opposite and fed a good portion into her own slippery pussy. She
looked down on the American girl and rode up and down a few times
experimentally. She adjusted her position slightly and tried again
and this time seemed satisfied.

"Whenever you're ready," the blonde said between clenched teeth.

"Go," the Russian said and immediately rode down hard on the thick
dildo. The blonde groaned. The Russian woman quickly established a
rhythm that was to her liking, driving her hips down and thrusting
forward in the same fluid motion. The blonde adjusted her hips to
allow the dildo to slide more freely and relaxed. Clia watched the
game with interest. She had already guessed that the first one to
orgasm would loose.

The Russian girl continued to drive down on the dildo, forcing it
deeply into the blonde and herself. The blonde moaned and stuck a
finger in her mouth, which she began to suck. Clia was fascinated
with the Russian girl. She was like a machine, driving down and
forward in a seemingly tireless rhythm. Her brow was knit in
concentration and Clia could see she was doing her best not to enjoy
it, but Clia could see that each thrust drove the fat dildo as
deeply into her snatch as it did into the blonde's. Her large
nipples were hard and Clia could see the sheen on her widely dilated
lips that was no longer just lubricant.

While the Russian girl seemed to be intent on not enjoying what she
was doing the blonde seemed to have taken a different approach. She
moaned and sighed around the wet finger in her mouth, producing
little sounds that were very erotic. She seemed to be totally into
the fucking she was getting and Clia felt certain she would cum very
soon. The Russian girl reached out and roughly massaged one of the
blonde's large breasts, which caused the blonde to gasp and then
moan louder. Her hips began to buck upward meeting the Russian
girl's thrusts so that only a small portion of the big dong was
visible.

The blonde's bucking caused the Russian to release her tit and use
both hands to steady herself. She increased the tempo and a smile
creased her face. It was obvious to Clia that she knew she was close
to winning. The blonde moaned louder and arched her back, apparently
on the very brink of cuming and Clia saw the Russian's face relax.
It was almost as if she had said to herself a few more strokes and
this bitch is mine.

A few more strokes and the brunette moaned loudly, the first sound
she had uttered since the word Go. The blonde responded in an
instant. She jerked the finger from her mouth and forced herself up
on her elbows. With an almost lightning quickness she reached
forward and cupped the Russian's pussy in her hand. The finger she
had been sucking and wetting slipped between the thick lips and
started to furiously stroke the Russian girl's clit.

"Neyt," the Russian gasped. She was driving to hard to stop and both
of her hands were tied up in keeping herself atop the blonde. A few
more strokes of her sensitized clit and the Russian girl screamed
and went wild riding down on the dildo with rapid, jerky thrusts of
her hips as she rode out her orgasm. When it subsided she collapsed
on the blonde and lay panting.

"No fair," she said huskily after she had regained some of her
composure.

"All's fair in love and war," the blonde responded with a smile.

"I should have known something was wrong, you never get hot that
fast,"

"Not true Natasha, just seeing you naked gets me going. That is
neither here nor there however, you lost and I won. Another victory
for capitalism,"

"Yes, you won, fair and square. I will return to the consulate and
prevail upon Yuri to convince the chairman that you Americans are
serious and a diplomatic solution is the only possibility of
avoiding war,"

"And I will give Bert a nice blowjob tonight and convince him to
tell Bob that we are not prepared to fight a war and he should
convince the President to offer some face saving options to the
Russians,"

"Ugh, I cannot stand the though of your lips upon that man," the
Russian girl said making a face.

"It doesn't exactly turn me on to be going down on you when I know
Yuri has been there either love," the blonde said with a rueful
smile.

"Solnishka, I am tired of being apart. Let us do this one last thing
to save the world and then leave it in the hands of others,"

"What are you proposing?" the blonde asked in a suddenly soft voice.

"I will defect. I have already made all the preparations. I am
prepared to never see mother Russia again, but I can only make that
sacrifice if it means having you as my own,"

"Oh Nat! I thought you would never ask. As soon as this is over I
will start divorce proceedings with Bert. I have proof he's fucking
that little cunt Lieutenant secretary of his,"

"I will meet you in London in six months then. I am defecting
through the offices of the British secret service. Where will we go
from there?"

"I don't care," the blonde said hugging the Brunette tightly to her,
"as long as I'm with you anywhere will be heaven,"

The scene faded and Clia found herself standing in blackness. She
looked around in a panic but Clio was there beside her.

"My time grow short little one. Do you know what lesson this taught
you?"

"Ummm.. That I have to pay close attention to the minor players.
History is filled with great people making earth shattering
decisions, but often it is not they, but the nameless faceless
people who do the most?"

"That's very good and true, but not what I wanted you to take from
this," Clio said with a smile.

"I don't know then," Clia said.

"The lesson here is that love can move mountains. Any divide, even
that as great as east and west can be bridged by love. Even the gap
of social acceptance. This last lesson was a personal one. There is
someone in your life who loves you desperately. Whether you choose
to accept that love or spurn it is up to you. You will always have
my guidance and inspiration, but you will never reach the peak of
potential you have unless you are happy and fulfilled in life. This
lover can bring you such fulfillment and happiness," the muse's
voice seemed to come from farther and farther away.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" Clia shouted. She could no longer see her
guide in the inky blackness.

"I shall always be with you, but for now I must go. There are laws
even the Gods cannot break. Fair the well!"

"Clio? Wait please! Who is it?" Clia screamed almost hysterically.

-----

"Cli? Clia please wake up!"  the insistent voice called.

Clia opened her eyes to find Beth looking down on her with an
expression approaching panic. The little brunette was shaking her
violently.

"What the...?"

"Thank god you are awake! Are you all right?"

Clia looked around and realized she was lying on the floor in the
kitchen of her apartment. She sat up slowly, tuning out the frantic
questions Beth was asking.

"How did I get here?" she asked at last.

"I don't know. Professor Roberts stopped me in the cafeteria and
asked if you were all right. He said you got up in the middle of his
lecture this morning and walked out of class in some kind of trance.
I was worried sick,"

"I am all right," Clia said getting shakily to her feet.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I just need to get some sleep," Clia said as she made her way
to her bedroom. Something made her turn her head as she was closing
the door. She saw Beth standing in the hallway wringing her hands
with a look of concern on her face that was heart rending.

Clia slept all of the rest of Tuesday away and straight through
Tuesday night. It was sometime in the early morning of Wednesday
that she felt the presence of Clio. The muse was behind her again
and Clia only made one attempt to turn her head. When she couldn't
she relaxed. Clio's arms slipped around her waist and she shivered
when soft lips planted a light kiss on her shoulder.

"Hello little one,"

"Mmmmm, so this is what you meant by seeing me again? In my dreams?"

"Yes, whenever you are troubled or at a loss for words I will know,"

"And now?"

"Now you are troubled, but I cannot help you. I can only say that
you should trust your heart,"

Clia nodded and felt those wonderful soft lips on her shoulder
again. She sank back into deep sleep and into dreams she could not
remember upon waking.

Wednesday Clia woke early and called each of her professors. She
told each she was cramping very badly and couldn't make class. All
of them were very sympathetic and told her not to worry. She used
this excuse about once a semester when she really needed a mental
health day. She had discovered, quite by accident that it was the
perfect excuse. Her female Professors all understood and immediately
sympathized with her while her male teachers were all so embarrassed
by the subject that they gave her no trouble at all.

Clia was sitting at the kitchen table writing down things she
remembered from her journey with Clio when Sharon stumbled into the
kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Without her makeup and
the false smile she always wore she looked older than her years. Her
eyes had a hard edge to them that Clia associated with girls who
slept around a lot. Rather than the semi contemptuous feelings she
had always harbored against Sharon today she felt only pity. Her
trip through time had showed her far to many women who simply
couldn't be happy with themselves. They needed to have their ego's
propped up by attention and sex was certainly one way to get
attention.

Sharon said good morning and returned to her room. Beth came into
the kitchen about an hour later as Sharon and Shelly were walking
out the door. The two blondes had a 7 AM lab together in Butler Hall
on Wednesdays and always rode in together. Beth avoided looking at
Clia, got her coffee and returned to her room. She came out dressed
for class about half an hour later and quietly exited the apartment.

All day Clia wrote, filling Comp book after Comp book with notes,
ideas, remembrances and impressions. At 1:00 Shelly and Sharon came
back in. Both were chatting and in a bubbly mood. Clia remembered
the concert was tonight over in Monroe. Clia was forced to answer
the door a few minutes later. The tall athletic guy and shorter guy
from the weekend were standing there. Clia let them in and motioned
them to the sofa with a distracted wave. She returned to her writing
and after a few monotone responses to their questions the guys
stopped trying to make conversation.

Shelly and Sharon came out and the four of them left without even
attempting to disturb Clia from her writing. Clia barely noticed
them leave; she was so engrossed in what she was doing. It was only
when she heard the door open around three that she looked up from
her nearly full comp book. Beth walked in looking very tired and
very down. She started off towards her bedroom with her eyes
downcast but Clia felt the urge to talk suddenly.

"Beth? Are you all right?"

"Hmm? Yes, I suppose I am," the small brunette replied.

"Ya sure? You seem very down,"

"I'm fine. How did it go with your classmate?" she asked with a
half-hearted smile. Clia could see that the smile was forced. She
was suddenly very curious about Beth's reason for asking. Clia chose
her words with care, watching the smaller girl for her reaction.

"It didn't pan out. She is not staying in school, in fact I won't
see her again I am sure," Clia said slowly. Beth's face showed
conflicting emotions but to Clia's now practiced eye they were as
readable as any of her beloved books. There was sorrow there that
things hadn't worked out, but also elation. An elation that was
filled with hope renewed. How many times had Clia seen that same mix
of emotions in her trip through time? A million? More? She would
never know, but for the rest of her life she would be able to read
people with an uncanny precision that amazed her friends. The only
question left unanswered was why the expression was there.

"I'm sorry Cli, I really am," Beth said.

"It's all right. I'll get over it," Clia said. Beth nodded and
started down the hallway but stopped. Clia watched her as she seemed
to be fighting some inner struggle. Finally she turned on her heels
and blurted out "Cli, you wanna go out tonight and get some dinner
or something?"

"No," Clia said. Beth looked crestfallen but before she could say
anything or turn around Clia continued, "I would rather stay in
tonight, but how about we get some Chinese?"

Beth smiled and nodded. The smile was so radiant and happy that Clia
found herself smiling. She returned to her writing and Beth
disappeared down the hallway. Clia stopped writing and puzzled over
that smile and Beth's strange reactions. It was then that the words
of the muse came back to her.

"The lesson here is that love can move mountains. Any divide, even
that as great as east and west can be bridged by love. Even the gap
of social acceptance. This last lesson was a personal one. There is
someone in your life who loves you desperately. Whether you choose
to accept that love or spurn it is up to you. You will always have
my guidance and inspiration, but you will never reach the peak of
potential you have unless you are happy and fulfilled in life. This
lover can bring you such fulfillment and happiness,"

The words were the same, but the puzzle behind them was suddenly
undone. The final veil of naivety was lifted from Clia's eyes.
Everything made sense to her now. The looks, the glances, the
compassion and concern as well as the inapproachability at times all
made sense. The someone who loved her desperately was Beth. Clia
smiled and shook her head. What a fool I have been, she thought to
herself. She realized she had also been very cruel albeit
unintentionally. Clia giggled then. Perhaps I can make up for that
tonight, she thought.

----

Clia stepped out of the shower and dried off. She looked at herself
in the steamy mirror and frowned. She was getting nervous already
and that boded ill. Clia shook off her apprehension and finished
drying off. She combed out her hair and then took the make up case
from under the sink. She did her makeup slowly and carefully. She
already knew what she was going to wear and she knew exactly how she
wanted to look. Once she was done she eyed herself critically in the
mirror. She released a long sigh and hugged herself tightly. I have
no idea what I am doing, she thought.

Clia shrugged off her misgivings and made her way to her dresser.
She had never tried to dress seductively for anyone before and she
wasn't at all sure how to go about it. Most of her underwear was
functional and comfortable rather than sexy, but her eyes were drawn
to the white satin set her mother had given her on her last
birthday. The set was still in the gift box and Clia took it out and
opened it. She pulled out the tissue paper and took out each piece.
First was the white lace garterbelt. Clia had not worn one since her
Jr. Prom. To this she attached the white stockings that were
packaged in a separate box. Over the garters she pulled up the
panties, which were high thighs. The bra was a demi-cup and took a
few adjustments before it was comfortable.

Over this Clia pulled on her school sweatshirt and a pair of loose
fit jeans. She had thought about something dressier but it wasn't a
date and she didn't want to seem out of place. She sat on the bed
and was tying up her sneakers when she heard the door close. Clia
walked out of her room to find dinner on the table. Beth had killed
the main lights and lit a few candles.

"Hey Cli, dinner is served," she said and smiled.

They ate dinner and talked about school, friends, the idiosyncrasies
of their roommates and a lot of other things. It was nice and Clia
didn't even feel like declining when Beth produced a bottle of wine
after dinner and poured them both glasses. The conversation turned
to more intimate things then, life, their plans, passions, and
ideas. After her second glass of wine Clia was a bit tipsy but she
also felt very mellow. She had forgotten how easy it was to be
around Beth, how comfortable the little brunette made her feel, the
very reasons they had become such good friends in the first place.

"How bout a movie?" Beth asked.

"I think I have seen all the ones we have a dozen times at least,"

"I have a couple in my room I don't think you have seen,"

"Like what?"

"Just let me pick one," Beth said with a giggle and headed to her
room. Clia walked over and sat on the sofa, curling her legs under
her and snuggling into her favorite corner. Beth came down the
hallway with a DVD in her hand and popped it into the machine.

"So what is it?"

"Be patient, It's a romance,"

Beth sprawled on the sofa, leaning on the other armrest with her
legs stretched out under the coffee table. Clia tried to watch the
movie but it became apparent to her quickly that neither she nor
Beth were spending half as much time watching the movie as they were
watching each other. Her own glances at the small brunette almost
always revealed Beth watching her rather than the movie, but Beth
just watched and made no move. Clia was at a loss now, unsure of
what to do. She had no experience at initiating things and Beth
seemed so scared that she was going to do something wrong she was
paralyzed.

Beth was absolutely beautiful Clia decided. She was also nice and
caring and supportive, the epitome of what Clia wanted in her life.
Clia made a tough decision then, she decided to go against every
reservation she had and try to initiate something. She scooted
closer to Beth and curled up next to her resting her head on the
little brunette's shoulder.

Beth looked shocked, but quickly placed her arm on Clia's shoulder
and held her tight. Their eyes met and for a long time they just
stared. Clia's eyes darted to Beth's lips and then back to her eyes.
Beth leaned forward hesitantly and Clia did the same, their lips
touched almost by accident. Both of them drew back like they had
been burned and Clia blushed furiously. Indecision was written all
over Beth's face; she started to speak, then to lean close again,
stopped herself and then licked her lips.

"Cli, I want to kiss you more than anything in the world, but I
don't ever want to hurt you. Are you sure it's what you want?"

Clia couldn't speak. She was shaking like a leaf in a summer storm.
Finally she managed to nod. Beth leaned forward again and Clia
closed her eyes. She felt Beth's soft lips upon her own and it sent
a thrill through her body. For a few breathless seconds their lips
were simply touching, but then Clia felt the tip of Beth's tongue
swirl gently over her lower lip. Clia's lips parted and Beth's
inquisitive tongue was soon exploring her mouth. Clia was enjoying
the kiss when Beth worked her legs under her and then pushed Clia
back on the sofa, levering herself on top of the blonde. Through the
whole maneuver their lips never parted.

Clia twisted her lower body so her legs were out of the way and Beth
settled down between her thighs. Beth's kiss became more demanding
and her hands slid down to pull Clia's sweatshirt up. Clia just held
on to Beth's shoulders and kissed back. Beth's small hands found the
large soft domes of Clia's breasts and began to squeeze and stroke
them. Clia felt the blood rushing to her center and her back arched.
She felt a tenseness building in the pit of her stomach and rising
into her breasts until they felt like they would be torn from her
chest by the power of the sensations. Clia moaned into Beth's mouth,
which seemed to arouse the brunette tremendously. Her small hands
dug into the firm flesh of Clia's breasts and roughly massaged them
while her pelvis rubbed against Clia's. This new stimuli provoked a
small squeal from Clia and Beth instantly ceased all her attentions
and broke the kiss.

"I'm sorry Cli. I don't want to go to far or too fast. I know it's
all new to you, but God you turn me on so,"

"How far do you want to go?" Clia asked when she caught her breath.

"As far as I can get away with," Beth said and then smiled.

"Seriously, Beth,"

"Seriously?" she replied as her brows knit. She seemed to be
fighting an inner struggle over what to say, but reached a decision
and took a deep breath.

"I want to fuck your brains out Cli, I have since I first met you,"

"Fuck my brains out? How would you go about that?" Clia asked. Beth
smiled and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Never you mind. Suffice to say I could if you would let me, but I
don't expect that from you, at least not yet,"

"How?" Clia asked seriously. Beth started to laugh but managed to
keep it to just a chuckle when she saw that Clia was serious.

"Your naivety is so refreshing. I have a strapon dildo I use with
the girls I'm with. I'm what they call a butch. I am attracted to
pretty feminine girls. I know I don't look like what you probably
associate the word to mean, but I am,"

"What am I then?"

"Confused," she said with an impish grin, "And one hundred different
kinds of sexy,"

"Seriously," Clia said as she wrinkled her nose.

"You are what's called a femme,"

"Which means?"

"It means you dress and act in a feminine manner. Femmes are usually
attracted to butches, but not always. Femmes can be attracted to
femmes or to both,"

"So I am a femme and you are a butch,"

"If you need labels, yes,"

"I don't think I need labels," Clia said in a small voice. Beth's
face turned serious and she lowered it until it was just inches from
Clia's.

"What do you need?"

The evening had been so nice and comfortable. Clia had enjoyed
herself without having to think ahead, but now was the moment of
truth. With the question of what she wanted staring her in the face
Clia found herself utterly serene.

"I need you to fuck me," she whispered.

Beth pushed herself up on her arms. She looked down on Clia with a
strange expression.

"Cli, I... I have dreamed about hearing you say those words to me, but
are you sure? You don't have to do anything, I am content with just
the evening and the kiss," she said earnestly. Clia felt her resolve
melting. She had not expected Beth to have reservations.

"If you don't want to I understand," she said.

"Don't want to? Are you out of your mind? I have spent so many
nights dreaming of taking you to bed it isn't even funny. I'm so in
love with you. Watching you fall for someone else was awful, but I
at least consoled myself with thinking you were Het. When you told
me it was a girl I wanted to crawl up in a hole and die. I spent
hours kicking myself for never having had the courage to hit on
you," she said. The words coming hesitantly at first but then became
a rushing torrent.

"Now you are lying here under me, like I have dreamed so often and
saying the words I have longed to hear and instead of jumping at the
chance I am acting like a fool. Worrying about how you will feel in
the morning if we do. I must be loosing it!"

"No, you aren't loosing it. Well no more than anyone else who falls
in love. Beth, I should have seen it but I never did. Now I realize
it and recognize it in myself. I love you too," Clia said.

Beth seemed too stunned to move, she just held herself there
staring. Clia laughed and pulled her back down, feeling the slight
woman's weight on her. She pressed her lips to Beth's and after a
moment felt Beth's tongue slip back into her mouth. This kiss was
long, sensuous and unhurried. Beth's tongue explored every
millimeter of Clia's mouth and Clia's did the same. Beth tasted
sweet, like the wine but even sweeter and Clia found she couldn't
get enough of that taste. She stabbed her tongue into Beth's mouth
and searched out pockets of sweetness until there were none to be
found.

When the kiss finally broke both Beth and Clia were flushed and
breathing heavily. Beth stood up and caught Clia's hand. She pulled
her to her feet and led her down the hallway to her bedroom. Clia
had only been in here a few times but now she saw things that had
never made an impression before. The lack of anything overtly
feminine impressed its self upon her. The room was tidy and clean
but almost Spartan. Beth didn't give her a lot of time to look
though; she led Clia to the bed and gently pushed her back onto it.

Beth caught the hem of Clia's sweatshirt and pulled it over her
head. Clia raised her arms and felt the cool air on her skin as the
thick maroon sweatshirt was removed. Clia lowered her arms and
rested them on the bed behind her. Beth stood back and stared,
seemingly lost in her admiration.

Clia had always been ashamed of her body. The hungry looks she had
provoked in boys and men since puberty had always left her feeling
somewhat dirty, but in Beth's eyes and expression she read such love
and adoration that she felt good about herself for the very first
time. Clia arched her back slightly, which forced her breasts
forward and caused the satin of her bra cups to stretch taut over
her large tits. Her nipples were semi hard and formed small buttons
behind the white fabric.

Beth's eyes were glued to Clia's ample breasts and she unconsciously
licked her lips. The little brunette reached out tentatively and
began to stroke and caress them through the soft material. Clia
sighed as she felt those small warm hands caress her. They were
gentle in the extreme and somehow the love and care that Beth felt
for her seemed to be transmitted to her skin through that caress.
While never one to openly display her charms Clia found herself
wishing that the bra were not between her heated skin and those
gentle little hands. Beth cupped her breasts, gently kneaded them
and stroked them until Clia was biting her tongue to keep from
moaning. When the little butch took Clia's nipples between her
thumbs and forefingers and pinched Clia did moan, a soft shuddering
moan that caused Beth to smile all the more.

Emboldened by Clia's obvious enjoyment of her caresses Beth leaned
forward hesitantly and slipped her arms under Clia's and around her
back. Her hands were trembling as they undid the hooks of the
delicate bra. Beth took in a sharp intake of breath as the bra came
away in her hands and Clia's tits were exposed to her view.

The little woman climbed onto the bed and gently pushed Clia
backwards. Clia yielded and lay back on the soft bed, sinking into
it. Beth's hands again seized her tits and began to knead and stroke
them. In no time she took one of the hard nipples into her mouth and
began to swirl her tongue around it as she gently sucked. It felt to
Clia like her nipples were directly connected to her clit. The more
the little brunette's tongue teased them the hotter and itchier her
pussy became. Before long Clia was moaning loudly and tossing her
head from side to side. A feeling was building in her, tension rose
and slowly coiled in the pit of her stomach while she felt the slick
wetness in her panties as her pussy began to lubricate.

Beth reluctantly abandoned Clia's aching breasts and stood up. She
quickly unbuttoned Clia's jeans and tugged them past the tall girl's
hips and down her legs. Beth tossed Clia's jeans on the floor and
then knelt next to the bed, between Clia's long legs. Beth kissed
and licked up Clia's sensitive inner thighs while her hands stroked
her hips and over her mound. Clia felt the tight knot in her stomach
begin to constrict, but before she reached the breaking point the
little butch stopped her ministrations and rose.

The small girl quickly shed her own shirt and the sports bra she
wore. Her breasts were small but beautifully sculpted and capped
with tiny pink aureole and hard little nipples. Clia barely had a
chance to look at them before Beth shucked her jeans and stood
before Clia clad only in her black silk boxers. She smiled and
slipped the boxers off. Clia's eyes were drawn to the juncture of
Beth's legs. She caught only a glimpse of her roommate's pussy
before Beth turned and opened the drawer to her nightstand. From it
she took out a black harness with a sturdy black dildo attached to
it. She expertly pulled it on and tightened the straps at her hips.

Clia stared in fascination; the sight was very strange but
undeniably arousing. Beth stood before her with the dildo bobbing
obscenely in front of her. She looked so feminine and lovely, save
for that large black weapon jutting out from her slim hips.

Beth knelt between Clia's legs again and with one hand pulled her
panties aside. The little butch wasted only a moment to drink in the
sight before she attacked Clia's flower with her tongue. Clia had
never felt anything like it. It was both soft and hard, gentle and
demanding, smooth and rough. It was all of these things and more,
but most of all it was always at exactly the right place to make her
feel the most wonderful.

Beth licked along the lips and then dipped her tongue in to tease
Clia's inner folds. She nipped and sucked around Clia's clit, slowly
drawing it out of its protective hood and making it ache with need.
Beth's tongue then dusted over it with quick feathery soft flicks
until Clia groaned. Beth quickly brought Clia to the brink or
orgasm, but stopped just short of taking her over the edge. She
softly kissed Clia's inner thigh and her tummy above her mound until
the blonde had recovered somewhat before she dove back in and built
up the level of stimulation again and again. With each trip to the
edge of bliss Clia was more and more aroused until finally she was
crying and begging for Beth not to stop.

Beth stopped again leaving Clia pounding the bed with her fists in
frustration, but the little butch gave Clia no chance to protest.
She stood quickly and brought the head of the dildo to Clia's slick
lips. Stroking it up and down just inside her lips drove Clia wild
with desire. She moaned loudly and her hips bucked.

"Ohh, looks like my baby is ready for some of this," Beth said in a
husky voice. Clia only groaned in response.

"Tell me what you want baby, I have wanted to hear it for so long,
come on, tell daddy what you need,"

"I want you to fuck me!" Clia nearly screamed. Beth smiled like the
Cheshire cat and drove her hips forward, the big dildo stretched
Clia like she had never been stretched before and she gasped when it
bumped against her hymen. Beth drove her hips forward again
apparently not grasping the reason for her access being thwarted.

"What the fuck??!" she growled in frustration. She grabbed the dildo
and held it tightly and seemed about to ram it in when she stopped
stock-still. Clia's whimpers were the only sounds in the room.

"Cli? Are you still a virgin?" Beth asked in a small voice. Clia
could only nod, the full feeling of the dildo and the peak of sexual
excitement her dreams and now Beth's tongue had taken her too were
too intense for words.

"Cli are you sure about this?"

"Don't start that again," Clia said through clenched teeth.

"Cli, I can't. It's going to hurt you,"

"Please Beth, I want it to be you," Clia said. Beth nodded but still
seemed unsure. She braced her legs apart and held the middle of the
shaft and then looked at Clia.

"I have never done this before, so bear with me," she said quietly.
Clia just nodded again. Her pussy was beginning to get used to the
intruder, but it was still an uncomfortable feeling. Clia closed her
eyes and held her breath. She felt a tiny bit of movement and then a
ripping tearing pain that caused her breath to shoot out of her. The
pain was accompanied by a feeling of being full that was totally
alien to her.

Her breath had been knocked out of her and she struggled to breath,
fight the rising panic, and adjust to having the big dong inside her
al at once. She was finally able to inhale and slowly got her
breathing under control, the pain was still there but had faded into
the background of her consciousness. The thing that was foremost in
her mind now was how the feeling of fullness had gone from
uncomfortable to pleasurable.

"Are you all right?"

"Mmmm-Hmmmmmm," Clia hummed as she wiggled around on the bed,
delighting in the sensation caused by the dildo moving slightly
within her.

Beth smiled and experimentally jogged her hips causing Clia to gasp.
With that reassurance the little butch caught Clia's hips and began
a slow in and out motion of long fluid strokes. To Clia it was
heaven; she could feel every inch of the big dildo as it slid in and
out of her. The sensation of being full, then empty, then full again
was addictive and she was sure she would never want it to end.
Through slitted eyes she glanced at Beth. The small woman was
beaming, seemingly living out her most cherished dream. While the
physical gratification was intense, knowing she made the small woman
feel that good was even more intoxicating and Clia moaned again as
Beth changed to a stronger deeper stroke.

Clia was rapidly approaching orgasm when Beth slipped her arms under
Clia's legs and lifted them onto her shoulders. The angle of entry
changed and the amount of stimulation to her clit as well. It took
Beth only a few driving thrusts before Clia felt her inner muscles
grip the plastic cock. Moments later an orgasm so powerful it
blotted out all else washed over her. Red, heady waves of pleasure
pulsed through her body and overrode everything in her mind. The
orgasms she had had by her own hand paled in comparison.

She had barely begun to regain her senses when she realized Beth was
still plowing into her with reckless abandon. The little butches
hands found Clia's sensitive nipples and began to roll them between
her fingers. The added stimulation sent a second orgasm crashing
over her. This one was so intense she nearly blacked out. She was
still riding those waves when Beth screamed and collapsed on top of
her. They held onto one another tightly as each experienced bliss in
the others arms.


Epilogue

Clia's fingers were cramped and her face hurt from wearing a smile
for eight hours solid. She hated book signings, but it came with the
territory when you made the NY Times best seller list for the third
time in as many years. Her newest book Emma & Josephine was the new
rage and had set of scholarly debates across Europe and the Americas
too.

Clia glanced at the line, at least another hour she thought. Her
eyes darted to the reading area where Beth sat quietly. Beth never
missed a book signing or anything else. She was still beautiful to
Clia after the years together. Beth caught her eye, glanced
furtively left and right then spread her legs widely apart and
stroked the outline of the strapon she wore under her leather pants.
Clia was forced to smile, which in turn made Beth smile. It was just
the inspiration she needed to get through the rest of the fans.

Clia Johansen, world-renowned author signed many more books that
day, but her mind was on the little Brunette and the fucking she
knew she was in for as soon as the door to the limo closed. There
are many forms of inspiration and many muses, Clia thought. She
glanced again at Beth, including small brunette ones who packed
large strapons. Clia smiled a real smile and signed another book. I
name you Beth muse of happiness, she thought as the last hour ticked
by.

                            END

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