Within a rural province of an area outside of Les Fuente, California, a tall house stood. Save for a few trees, it stood alone.
Within, a lesbian group grew. They gathered. At the top, a lesbian in green stockings and a dark green bodice, invited her attending lesbian in waiting to her dresser.
Among lesbians: she was Glen, or ‘the Green Duchess’.
She had unmistakable Germanic ancestry with a touch of Indian and Celtic blood. Her thighs thick, shapely, and strong, parted and drew her lesbian in waiting to the soft lips of her vaginal region.
After a work-through, her vaginal area quivered and burst. And her partner sealed their affair with a kiss.
From the third floor: Glen surveyed her small dominion (a small area of land). In waiting, a dozen lesbians lived with her across rooms. On the second floor, a woman named Grace, in blue. She wore blue garments and by night: a blue laced underwear and nothing else.
She was the ‘Blue Countess’.
And they lived with spouses. Usually gay men: socially their euphemism for beards. And no one glanced first or secondly at them, with men in waiting on their arms.
It allowed for privacy, and some freedom. And so the Green Duchess and Blue Countess hosted their games, when their sexual interest turned bored. And they looked for adventure.
As a rule: the Glen and Grace wore their color coded underwear. Lesbians on their floor wear the same color they wear.
Glen had to wear hers on her floor: it was proof she led. If she visited Grace’s floor, she had to leave her floor. Glen wearing hers was untouchable to Glen or any other.
If she removed them, she was open to any request for sex (on Grace’s floor). That was their little game. One night, the Green Duchess slide out of her underwear. She was paying a visit to a lesbian on the second floor: one with a little, but perfect smile. (She was ‘Ducy’).
Shapely, from her Germanic build, and covert, from her slight native ancestry, Glen slid down the stair well and snuck into the second floor, with nothing but a tiny belt on her thigh.
Ten feet, twenty, success: she snuck into Ducy’s room. Ducy waiting: Glen rested on the bed, her legs spread. Her daring! If the Blue Countess knew!
With a slight smile, Ducy went to work on Glen’s vaginal zone. An ache that hung on her nether regions lifted, and her limbs became soft and pliant.
Glen felt no ill will to Grace. All within a woman’s fold were primarily that of trust, and the rules were well-known. So daring was the rule of the game: all was okay, if they didn’t get caught.
Glen’s vaginal region burst: she felt triumph. Her vagina felt a burst of pleasure, from a mountain of pleasure that crested, grew, and gripped her hardened vaginal region and her thigh.
She sighed and slid to the floor. Ducy rested on her breast. Glen slipped out before morning. After her lover’s soiree, no one was wiser the next morning.
It was in many countless lesbian love making that this game: excitement that somewhat made sexual loving more intense. And both Glen and Grace were skiers, so adrenaline made everything, even love, that much more intense.
It did so happen that when caught (once), Glen spread her legs for a sentry in Grace’s hallways, and was stopped to allow a sexual exploration from the lesbian sentry. Such was the rules: reward and loss. Glen left disappointed, having been sexed by an unknown lesbian. (Cruelty was not the rule of the game: only an random, arbitrary rule that made nothing but an obstacle that made it truly a game: one would win it; or ‘lose’).
She did succeed in future visits: as one wiser, and agile, and shapely and beautiful, in a tall house, on her floor with lesbians who respected her, a (fake) rival (the Blue Countess) and a beard (her gay male partner ‘Lloyd’), she was:
‘The Green Duchess’, eminences of her little plot of land, and adventurer in lesbian love, both bold and secret, and by night, clandestine within a cozy house behind trees. (By morning: it was forgotten, for what happened by night, stayed in the night).
Afterword: A few of their entourage wore color-coded rings from their brief years in Les Spirites, and others wore a garner thigh belt around their legs, in numbers of 1, 2, or 3. One even had ten up and down her thighs. Some still were part of their lesbian sub-cultures in Les Spirites: some left, a few were killing time with a summer jobs under Glen and Grace. When summer ended, they returned to Les Spirites to resume school. Others resumed their usual lesbian clubs on their own.
*****
Submitted by a lesbian creative writing group (on the West Coast USA); no copyrights, free to use provided the following names are included as part of the credits: Karen McGill, Kelly LeBrock, Clare Erin.
Note: All writings and works shared with the expressed permission of their writers. They do not express the ideas or views of A) this website, B) this profile. All political / social / fantasy ideas are duly referenced here.