SAPPHIC SENSATIONS..................................

I’m in my dressing room; my bosom still clutched tightly by the boning and laces of a purple silk corset. My full-length skirt hangs over the seat of a chair, and I am adjusting my stockings, as my garter belt has begun to allow the fabric to slip down my thigh.

There’s a knock on my door and her sweet voice requests permission to enter. I eagerly dash toward the door and let her in, lamenting a need for help with removing this damned corset.

She’s wearing a short, flowing and flowered skirt with a tight black deep v-neck top. I can see her breasts all the way to the bottom of her cleavage, and just a sliver of her nipple peeks out, visible behind her curtain of hair, as she leans over to set down her bag.

She’s wearing lipstick red as roses today. She spots me staring, so I turn and bend down to take off my shoes, making small talk. She loved the show. She especially loved the costume they put me in – the colors really brought my features to life, made her believe I was the queen.

She could hardly believe we’d only started rehearsals two months ago. As I listened to her talk, her eyes lit up with excitement, I noticed she’d put on the subtlest shade of eye shadow today. And, perfume. She smelled like berries, sweet, delicious and ripe.

I let her keep talking and turned around, letting her loosen the laces of the corset, helping free my breasts and lungs from its grasp.

I listened to her with my eyes closed, trying to picture her naked skin, wondering what panties she might be wearing. She’d asked me a question, I realized, as she helped pull the corset off, over my head.

I turned, as she repeated herself, realizing how few layers of clothing now lay between us.

My breasts, now revealed, were mere inches from her bare skin; I could almost feel their heat. Her pillowed bosom mirrored mine, threatening to collide. She stared at me, expectantly, waiting for her answer. And, suddenly, I could contain myself no longer. I leaned in, and pulled her face to mine. I kissed her with passion and lust, pressing my bare chest into her and her deeply low-cut blouse, feeling the warm, soft skin of her breasts on mine.

At first she tensed, taken-aback by my sudden advance. But, as I began to pull away, unsure of her reaction, she looked at me with such hunger in her eyes I felt myself moistening at the prospects. She reached for my face and kissed me greedily, whilst I pulled her body closer to mine, pulling her into me. I caressed her shape with my hands, gasping her half-naked tit in my hand and squeezing.

Out escaped a quiet moan, as she dug her fingers into my hair. We danced this way, in a tight, caressing embrace, for some minutes, gasping and releasing quiet moans as we explored the curves of each other’s bodies, until she suddenly detached herself from me. She stepped away, putting her hand on my chest, and looked directly at me.

“Follow me,” she said.

And I did.

Bare breasted, naught but garters and stockings, I followed her through the dressing room, into the hall, and back onto the stage.

“Shhh” she told me, as she giggled, holding my hand as we tiptoed across the dark set toward the fainting couch. I could barely make out her face in the dim glow of the safety lights; she wanted me.

And I wanted her.

So overcome with the desire to feel her skin on mine, I grabbed her around the waist and thrust her onto the couch, climbing on top of her, then slowly leaned in. With my face a hairs breadth away, I began running my fingers along her body. As I reached the edge of her blouse, I began slowly pulling the fabric over her torso. She shivered at the light touch, and I leaned in to kiss her freshly naked belly.

I moved my lips ever-slowly upward, lifting her shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside, until I was kissing her now fully naked breasts. I nibbled and licked her nipples, feeling her narrow waist and the small of her back with my hands. Her skin was soft like a peach, and smelled like berries.

I lightly dug my nails into her back as I continued kissing and nipping at her skin, biting here and there. As I moved farther down, seeking out those touches that made her gasp and cry out, she started breathing heavier and scratching at my shoulders with her fingers.

I used my hands to slowly slide up under the bell of her skirt, making circles in places foreign hands rarely touch. Then, with a slow, torturous motion, I pulled her skirt down over her hips, and thighs, and calves, until she was left, before me, topless and in her red lace panties, her eyes begging for more.

I smirked and laughed, hovering just over her right thigh, my lips lightly brushing against her skin. She shivered and moaned in complaint, so I bit her. I bit her, and she moaned even louder. So I turned my head to her left thigh, and bit her again.

She gasped, winding her hands into my hair, lifting her hips up and pushing herself toward me. I could smell her real smell now – beyond the perfume. She smelled like skin and sex and strawberries. “You smell delicious,” I told her, and she, pulling her panties off, pushed me toward her.

She was hot, and wet, and I could feel her pulsing under me. I started with my hands, gently touching her most private parts. I rubbed her vulva, lightly brushing against her inner lips, and began softly kissing the trail my fingers left behind. She shivered and rocked her hips, urging me on. So, I slowly spread her lips and ran my fingertips down the center, stopping at her hot, wet hole, running my fingers around its edge and back up again.

Then, I did it again.

And again, a third time. Each time, she moaned and arched her back, begging for more. So, I pressed my fingers, spreading her lips, and began softly stroking her clit with my tongue. Slowly, at first, and then I started making circles around it, picking up speed with each round. I used my other fingers to tease her wetness, while my tongue circled her clit, matching and then reversing directions, feeling her twitch and pulse with pleasure.

As my fingers circled more, and my tongue traveled down and then back up the length of her vulva, she pulled at my hair and scratched at my back. And, when she was breathing so heavily I thought she might run out of air, I pushed my finger into her; first one, and then two, caressing her from the inside out. I nibbled and sucked on her clit while I curved my fingers inside, feeling her soak my hand and cry out in ecstasy.

“Oh!” She cried as I felt her tighten around my fingers, cumming at my touch. My face was well drenched in the scent of her, and the look on her face was better than any I’d ever dreamed.

As she came back down, she looked at me, eyes glazed over with pleasure and lust, held my eyes for just a moment, and then pushed me back down. “As you wish,” I said with a smile and started to stroke her again with my tongue. She squirmed and twitched and bucked, until she came again to my coaxing fingers and teasing mouth.

She came another two times before she finally let me go, and I was dripping with the wet of her. She pulled me to her face and kissed me with a ferocious and grateful passion. “Next time, I’ll do you,” she breathily promised, and curled into me.

We stayed like that, her: bare, soaked in her own cum and me: mostly naked, in the darkness on stage for what felt like an eternity – a blissful eternity.

“Next time, we turn on the lights.”

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