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Message-ID: <34475asstr$1010185806@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: zagreus@aol.com (the lizard king)
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
NNTP-Posting-Date: 4 Jan 2002 21:25:49 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} The Accidental Sappho (FF)
Date: Fri,  4 Jan 2002 18:10:06 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

"OK everyone, be quiet, it's time time call this meeting to order.
First let's all give Daphne a big Delta Chi thank-you for baking the
delicious cookies."

"Thanks, Daphne!" The sound of thirty college-age girls shrilly
shouting in unison was a bit much for Gretchen, who sat in the back
and nursed a hangover from the Homecoming party of the night before.
Some of the sorority meetings could drag on forever, as the sisters
debated endlessly on insignificant details, and Gretchen was praying
fervently that this would not be one of those times.

Shielding her eyes against the bright sunlight streaming through the
window, Gretchen watched as Suzanne smiled warmly out at the assembled
sisters and smoothed her dress. Suzanne certainly had poise, Gretchen
had to admit--her mother had taught her well. She was always dressed
impeccably, her hair always seemed to be perfect even first thing in
the morning, and she always displayed perfect manners. Suzanne was
such an image of style and grace that you could almost forget that,
inside, she was a demon from hell.

"OK girls, ordinarily we'd use this time to run down the sorority
finances and make plans for the Spring Formal, but the Council and I
have a little something special that we think you'll all enjoy."
Something in the way she smiled when she said that made Gretchen's
stomach twist suddenly. She had that feeling a lot since Suzanne was
elected sorority President. Gretchen wasn't the only girl who knew
about Suzanne's mean streak, and there were a lot of sisters who
opposed her candidacy. But it turned out that Suzanne was like a pink,
perfumed version of Richard Nixon--no matter how much everyone seemed
to distrust her, she always seemed to put together enough support to
get what she wanted. Once she was elected President she could pretty
much name her own council, and so Gretchen could do nothing but watch
as Delta Chi fell completely under the sway of the Bitch Goddess and
her closest friends.

That was two months ago. Gretchen had been sure that something
horrible would happen as a result, but so far everything had remained
quiet. Something about the feeling in the air and the look in
Suzanne's eyes told Gretchen that the quiet was soon to be disturbed.

"You all know how I feel about the way a sorority should conduct
itself," Suzanne began, clearly reciting a speech she had memorized in
advance. She did it very well, though, sweeping the room with her eyes
and making eye contact with each sister so they all felt that their
president was talking to them alone. "We represent something on this
campus, and we should embrace that role -- we should stand up for what
is right, and oppose what we know to be wrong. I've spoken with the
Council, and we all agree that we have an opportunity to make a
powerful statement about the values upon which this nation is based."

Gretchen's stomach nearly did a back flip. This was it, no doubt about
it. Suzanne was about to use the power that she had accumulated, and
Gretchen didn't like the idea of that one bit.

"Our nation now has a President who took office with the country's
instructions to restore family values to our culture. Our country
stands alone in the world, surrounded by enemies both without and
within, and it is only by holding true to the values upon which the
nation was built that we can hope to stand against the challenges that
confront us." Suzanne was really swinging now, her voice rising in
enthusiasm and her face flush with excitement. Gretchen had to give
her credit--she was really good at this sort of thing.

"Our soldiers are in the field now, fighting to keep our way of life
safe. But there is another attack underway, one that is more insidious
than a terrorist's bombs. This is the war that seeks to make a deviant
lifestyle seem normal. This is the war that seeks to make us lose our
way and forget about what we are. This is an attack that is being
waged right here on campus, by those who would make our own college
campus a modern Sodom and Gomorrah."

So that was it. Gretchen almost laughed incredulously--almost but
quite, since she suddenly realized that no one else in the room was
laughing. She looked around her suddenly and was confronted by a sea
of grim and determined faces, some nodding solemnly. Could it be that
they were buying this crap?

Suzanne wasn't done; indeed, she was only getting started. "The time
is at hand to strike back in defense of what is right. The Council and
I have been in touch with the men of Alpha Sigma, and we've worked out
a coordinated plan. Alpha Sigma will be pursuing a plan of their own
to "out" the secret homosexuals in our college and, God willing, drive
them from campus."

Gretchen winced. Her boyfriend was in Alpha Sigma, like many of the
campus jocks, and she could only imagine the sort of plan that they
were cooking up. It would be pointless, she had no doubt, and it would
certainly be cruel; Gretchen could only hope that the plan would not
include physical violence, though even then she wasn't so sure.

Suzanne was still speaking. "Our part of the plan is to do the same
for the secret lesbian community. Sally, will you give the specifics?"

Gretchen was aware that her mouth had fallen open, but she couldn't do
anything to close it. Unfortunately this wasn't the first time she had
heard about "secret lesbians" from Suzanne--the girl was obsessed with
the idea that a hidden lesbian community was infiltrating the campus.
An openly gay woman didn't bother her nearly as much as the idea of
one who pretended to be straight. But now Sally had risen from her
chair among the Council members and was beginning to speak.

"Hi girls. You all know that my father owns a home security firm,
right? Well, Suzanne and I talked to him about our little plan, and he
agreed to help! We have at our disposal ten miniature video cameras --
you might have heard them referred to as 'NannyCams.' What we're going
to do is sneak into Tri-Sig during their Gay Pride Week party next
Saturday and install them in the bedrooms. Then we'll know who's doing
what to whom."

A spate of nervous laughter swept the room. Gretchen's mouth was so
far open now that a goose could have flown in and built a nest there.
Sigma Sigma Sigma was the lesbian sorority on campus, and Delta Chi
was going to install hidden cameras in their bedrooms?! This had to be
a joke.

"Isn't that ... ummm ... kind of illegal?" Gretchen didn't see who
asked the question, but she couldn't have said it better herself.
Suzanne may have the Council wrapped around her finger, but she
couldn't order the sisters to commit a crime. After the uproar died
down she'd certainly be impeached. Gretchen began to feel a little
relieved; maybe some good would come of this.

"Yes, it might be seen as a crime if we used the tapes for
pornographic purposes, or were selling them or something," Suzanne
said, clearly prepared for this question. "But if we're caught we'll
just say that it was a stupid prank. If there's any real trouble then
Daddy and the other Trustees will tell the school to leave us alone.
But that won't happen, because we won't get caught--I've been able to
get a complete set of keys to the Tri-Sig house. They'll all be at
their disgusting little party, and it won't take us more than a few
minutes to set the cameras up. Once we're in and out, even if the
cameras are found, who's to say that we're the ones who put them
there? After that it's only a matter of waiting a week or so, then
sneaking back in to get the tapes. Then we'll have all the footage we
need to show the entire school who the secret lesbians are on our
campus. Anonymously, of course."

In her mind Gretchen counted down the seconds: it couldn't be more
than twenty before Suzanne was shouted down, and the whole idiotic
plan was discarded. Secret lesbians my ass, she thought--the whole
idea was laughable.

She wasn't laughing several days later when, clad totally in black,
she found herself hiding in the bushes besides the Tri-Sig house. When
she thought about it, Gretchen had to admit that it was a sad
commentary indeed that she was here in the bushes, rather than in the
University President's office, or in a police station, or anywhere but
here. A stronger person would have left the sorority as soon as it
agreed to go along with Suzanne's insane crusade. A woman of principal
and substance would have taken a stand against the intolerance and
illegality of Suzanne's plan. But Gretchen had to admit that she was
not strong; her social life depended on the sorority, and she wasn't
ready to walk away from all of friendships and personal ties that she
had so laboriously nurtured. She wasn't strong enough to go it alone,
and so now she was crouched in the bushes, waiting for the sisters of
Tri-Sig to empty out of the building so she could sneak inside and
commit a crime.

There were five of them in this group, each sister holding a camera
and assigned a room to hide it in. Gretchen knew that another five
sisters were on the other side of the building, ready to go in the
door that led to the kitchen. She was in the group heading in the
rear, and as they snuck up towards the door her heart was pounding so
hard that she felt certain that it could be heard from a hundred feet
away. It was actually a relief when they opened the door and snuck
inside; anything was better than crouching in plain sight around a
building's rear door, dressed in black as if to say, "We're criminals:
come arrest us!"

Gretchen had memorized the location of her assigned room, and she
wasted no time getting there. Up the stairs and down the hallway to
the left. One, two, three doors passed, and then there it was: a
closed bedroom door with a k.d. lang poster on the front. Gretchen
slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open, hideously frightened
that one of the lesbians had stayed behind, that even now she was
watching the door open as she dialed 911 on her telephone. But then
the door opened to reveal a dark and empty room, and Gretchen slipped
inside.

Quickly she looked for a place to hide the camera and tape, which
taken together was not much bigger than a tape recorder. The cameras
were pretty cool, really--they came with motion detecters so they only
recorded when someone was in the room. There was only one bed in the
room so it was clear which direction to face it, and then Gretchen saw
the perfect place: a bookcase made out of wooden boards and cinder
block. One side of the bookcase was up against the wall, but the
cinder block was far enough out for the camera to fit and a thick
layer of cobwebs made it clear that the room's occupant was not the
sort to tidy up in such remote parts of the room. Gretchen placed the
camera, arranged the lens, and then pressed the "activate" button. The
little red light said that the camera was active, and she slipped out
of the room and then hurried out of the house.

It wasn't until she was back at the sorority and in her own bed,
curled up beneath the covers, that she began to relax. It was over--it
was a stupid, pointless, insane thing to do, but it was done and she
could stop worrying for a little bit. It had all been pretty easy,
really; just sneak into the room and take her camera and ... just take
her camera ... her camera. The camera that had been given to her. The
camera that had been helpfully labelled by anal-retentive Suzanne with
a bright yellow Post-It that had Gretchen's name on it. The bright
yellow Post-It that Gretchen had forgotten to remove before she placed
it in an unsuspecting lesbian's bedroom.

Shit, shit, shit! Oh holy fucking god damn shitting mother fucker!
SHIT!!! Gretchen leapt up to do a little dance of dismay right there
on her bed. She couldn't believe, could not fucking believe that she
had left her name on the camera. What sort of idiot would leave her
name at a crime scene?

The sort of idiot who would have to go back to the crime scene, that's
who. Gretchen quickly slipped into jeans and a sweatshirt and hurried
back to the Tri-Sig house, trying all the while to move as fast as
possible without seeming to hurry in a way that might appear
suspicious. But she knew without even looking at her watch that she
was too late. The party was over, the lesbians were back home in their
rooms. There was no way she was going to be able to sneak in.

But still. Gretchen stood in the street outside the house and
considered her options. She could go home, of course, but the next
week would just about kill her, worrying that the camera would be
discovered and that she would be expelled. Despite all of Suzanne's
assurances, Gretchen knew that a student who could be placed at the
scene of a crime would be expelled, trustees or no trustees. So there
was no going home. And maybe it would be possible to sneak in--most of
the windows were dark already, including the window of the room where
Gretchen had placed the camera. Maybe the girl who slept there wasn't
back yet. Maybe she had met some fine young thing at the party and was
now munching carpet miles away from here. Maybe Gretchen could just
sneak in, grab the Post-It, and be on her way.

It wasn't until she was halfway up the staircase that Gretchen took
the time to wonder if this was such a good idea. But by then there was
no going back. Luckily there was no one out and about so she made it
up the stairs unseen, and though she could hear talking behind some of
the doors, it was silent behind the door in question. Her heart was
pounding again when she opened the door slowly and, slipping inside,
pulled it shut behind her.

"WHO'S THERE?!"

The shout was followed by a sudden flood of light as a bedside lamp
was switched on, catching Gretchen where she stood inside the closed
door. She could see a girl with long black hair lying in the bed,
staring wide-eyed at her as her right had groped for the telephone.
Wildly Gretchen groped for some explanation of why she would be found
in the middle of the night in the bedroom of a strange woman. A
strange lesbian woman. She could think of only one reason, and grasped
at it the way a drowning woman would clutch for a life vest that came
floating by.

"Don't be scared, please. I ... I saw you at the party, and..."

"And what?" the girl demanded, obviously very suspicious. Gretchen
thought she seemed a little familiar now, and wondered if they had a
class together sometime. This was not the time to waste on such
thoughts, though; this was the time to lie like a dog. She worked up
her confidence and played the only card in her hand.

"I've always wondered, is it true that you've never really had oral
sex until you've had it with a woman?" And with that she slipped the
sweatshirt up over her head and let it drop to the floor.

Gretchen had never had trouble attracting men; in fact, she often had
to beat them off with a stick. She knew that she had a pretty face
accentuated by bright blue eyes, but she also knew that what kept the
men coming was her body. And so she worked on that asset, making the
best of it she could: a careful diet combined with regular aerobics
gave her the sort of firm yet voluptuous body that made men drool. And
now, from the way the girl was looking at her naked breasts, Gretchen
could tell that some women might drool over her as well. Time to seal
the deal, she thought, and silently stepped out of her shoes and jeans
to stand naked in the middle of the room.

Her hands stretched involuntarily to cover her breasts and Gretchen
watched as thoughts hurried across the girl's face. Clearly she was
still suspicious of why a beautiful girl had arrived unannounced in
the middle of the night to undress in her bedroom, but clearly she was
also increasingly intrigued by the idea of having sex with the
aforementioned girl. Suspicion and lust were at war with each other
for just a moment before lust won out. Hurriedly she pulled her
nightgown over her head and reached out to pull Gretchen into the bed.

Gretchen was stiff at first; she kept telling herself to relax and let
it happen, but it was hard at first. Her plan was to fool around with
the girl a bit and then sneak out when she fell asleep, taking the
Post-It with her. And so she lay back and passively allowed the
lesbian to do whatever she wanted, thinking all the while how strange
it was to feel a woman kissing her lips and neck, to feel a woman
caressing her hips and legs, to feel a woman sucking tenderly on her
breasts .... oh that was nice! She didn't much like it when her
boyfriend sucked on her tits, but the way this girl did it felt much
more sensuous. The lesbian (in her mind Gretchen started thinking of
her as Lizzy) clearly knew what she was doing, and she moved across
Gretchen's body like a painter on a canvas. At first Gretchen planned
to close her eyes and fantasize about her boyfriend to make the
lesbian sex bearable, but soon it was clear that this would not be
necessary. Lizzy almost made her come just by the way that she kissed
her way down Gretchen's chest and stomach, and when the girl's tongue
finally found Gretchen's clit the effect was astonishing. Gretchen
moaned and arched her back, her eyes screwed shut and her hands moving
to the back of Lizzy's head. She was suddenly carried away on a tide
of pleasure; she wrapped one leg around Lizzy's neck and pressed down
hard on the back of her head, enjoying the girl's skillful tongue more
than she would ever have imagined. When the orgasm came it was like an
earthquake, the trembling building deep in Gretchen's body and
exploding outward in wave after blissful wave of that left her gasping
and covered in sweat. Finally the tremors passed and Lizzy kissed her
tenderly while she floated on the afterglow. Gretchen gratefully
kissed her back, inwardly marvelling at the intensity of her feelings.

Then came the hard part. Now she had to return the favor, and hoped
that she would be able to make the lesbian come hard enough that she
would quickly fall asleep. Gretchen knew there was no point in delay,
so she kissed Lizzy deeply and rolled her over until she was on top.
Lizzy held her in a tight embrace and so they continued kissing for a
long while, during which Gretchen began to discover how delicious a
woman's soft mouth could be. Then, doing unto Lizzy what Lizzy had
done unto her, she began kissing her way down her body. The breasts
were a pleasant diversion and she spent some time there; Gretchen felt
fortunate that she had blundered her way into the bed of a woman with
a nice body, and was happy to squeeze and kiss and suck on Lizzy's
nipples while she felt the woman squirm with desire beneath her. She
held onto the tits while she continued down with her lips, coming to
Lizzy's flat stomach and kissing a circle around her navel. Then there
was nowhere to go but between her legs, and already Gretchen could
smell the musty odor it emitted. There was no going back now; she
kissed the inside of Lizzy's thighs, and then slipped downward towards
the woman's secret garden.

To Gretchen's surprise the hardest part was avoiding sneezing when
Lizzy's pubic hair tickled her nose. The act of going down on a woman
wasn't that difficult, really, and actually was kind of fun once she
got into it and really let go. Gradually she grew more adventurous.
She played with Lizzy's clitoris, stroking it with the tip of her
tongue and then flicking it, rubbing it with her thumb for a few
strokes and then diving in again for long licks. Lizzy loved every
minute of it, and Gretchen enjoyed the knowledge of how much pleasure
she could give. It was time to finish the game, though, and she could
tell that Lizzy liked it best when she went in deep, so she dove all
the way in. Her face ground against Lizzy's cunt and she stuck her
tongue as deeply inside the girl as she could manage. Looking up she
made eye contact with Lizzy and that sent the girl over the edge; her
orgasm was long and violent, and Gretchen had no choice but to ride
the bucking out since Lizzy had wrapped both thighs around her head.

Then finally it was over, and Gretchen took a moment to wipe her
sopping face on a sheet before she came up for the traditional
post-coital kiss. Lizzy pulled the sheet and blankets up over them and
they lay cuddling for a while, exchanging light kisses and speaking in
whispers.

"Did you like it?"

"You know I did."

"Mmmmm. Me too. Are you sure that was your first time?"

"Yeah."

"Oh baby, you're a natural."

For a long time they just lay quietly, Lizzy's head resting on
Gretchen's chest. No one had ever done that before--Gretchen was
always trying to cuddle with her boyfriend, but like most guys he
didn't much care for it--and she kind of liked the feeling, the girl's
head rising and falling as Gretchen breathed in and out. Her feeling
of afterglow added to the warmth of the woman's body made Gretchen
feel drowsy, but she fought to keep awake; she had to slip out when
Lizzy fell asleep otherwise this whole thing would be a waste. Finally
after ten minutes or so the girl's breathing grew deeper and Gretchen
could tell that she was asleep, though it would still be tricky to
slip out from beneath her. Slowly, inch by gradual inch, Gretchen
lifted the arm up and slipped out from underneath, quickly placing a
pillow under Lizzy's head as she exited the bed. Somehow it all worked
and she pulled her clothes on as quickly and quietly as she could.
Then, her heart pounding at the thought that the girl might wake up,
she hurried across the room and grabbed the Post-It off of the hidden
camera--mission accomplished!

She hurried out of the room and out of the house and this time didn't
stop running until she was back in her own sorority. Yes, things had
gotten a little complicated, and she had needed to bed a woman--that
was something she would have to give more thought to when she had a
chance to catch her breath--but now there was nothing left behind to
incriminate her. The prospect of meeting up with her one-time lesbian
lover was a little frightening, but she'd cross that bridge if and
when she came to it. As she fell asleep Gretchen had to say that she
had patched matters up about as well as could be expected.

It wasn't until the following afternoon, in the middle of an art
history lecture, that Gretchen suddenly dropped her pen and let out a
little yelp. The tape! She had been so focused on the camera and the
Post-It that somehow she had completely forgotten that all the while a
tape had been running in the recorder! Recording her when she entered
the room, when she took off her clothes, when she ... when she did
those other things!!! Her problems hadn't been patched up at all, they
were now much, much worse--being expelled was nothing compared to what
would happen to her if her sorority sisters caught sight of her in bed
with a woman! Oblivious to the curious stares that were aimed at her
by the students in the lecture hall, Gretchen rested her head in her
hands and quietly moaned in despair. She would have to go back again,
this time to get the tape.

It was all too much--it seemed like life was conspiring against her,
forcing her to commit the same crime over and over again until the
police finally caught her. After class Gretchen went to a coffee shop,
intending to sulk for the rest of the afternoon. As she stood in line
to pick up her latte, the idea of just dropping out of school and
moving to some place far, far away was starting to seem more and more
appealing. She couldn't bear the thought of breaking into the same
building a third time. How much of this torture was she supposed to
endure?

She had to admit, though--the sex had been pretty good. She wasn't
sure what she had liked so much about it. Maybe it was the fact that
there was no pregnancy risk, it was sex just for the sake of sex and
so she had felt more free to let go. Or maybe it was the kinkiness of
it all: lesbian sex when Gretchen knew she was straight; sex with a
stranger; sex to avoid being charged with a crime. When she thought
back on it, the night before played out in her mind like a scene from
a bad porno movie, which in a way made it all the more fun. It was all
so strange, she almost wondered if she had dreamed the whole thing.

"Oh! My mystery girl! Hi!"

Gretchen looked up across the counter into the eyes of the woman she
had slept with the night before. She was so surprised that at first
she was struck dumb and could only gape wordlessly. Yes, "Lizzy" had
looked familiar last night--because Gretchen had seen her many times
before at this same coffee shop! Now she could remember quite clearly
that the girl worked here; they had even chatted once, briefly, while
Gretchen was waiting for her coffee. How could she have not remembered
to avoid this coffee shop? Gretchen grimly thought to herself that if
she was going to be any more stupid this week, she'd have to buy
herself a dunce cap and become the village idiot. "Ummm ... hi," she
finally managed.

The woman gave her a shy little smile. She was very pretty when she
smiled. Gretchen could imagine that, with her lustrous black hair, she
might be quite beautiful if she ever gave it a real effort. "I
couldn't believe it when you were gone this morning. You never even
told me your name."

'Fake name, I need a fake name,' Gretchen thought frantically. Sally?
Beth? Hermione? "Gretchen," she blurted out, and immediately started
kicking herself.

"Hi Gretchen," the woman smiled, the sort of intimate smile that says,
'I fucked you last night and I'd really like to do it again.' "My name
is Amy."

"Hi Amy," Gretchen said, wondering how she was going to get out of
this situation. Maybe she could spill coffee on herself and rush out
in search of medical attention? But then she suddenly realized that
maybe this was just the opportunity that she needed. It came with some
risks, of course, but as she turned it over in her mind it seemed
quite a bit better than the alternative. "Would you like to join me
for coffee?" she finished.

Soon they were sitting at a corner table, far enough away from the
other customers that they could enjoy some privacy. That was good,
because Gretchen knew some of the students here and this was one
conversation that she did not want overheard.

"That wasn't very nice of you," Amy said, "sneaking out like that. And
I was going to make you breakfast, too!"

"Sorry," Gretchen said, speaking into her coffee. "I had some things
to think through. It was my first time with a woman and ... well, it
was a little too good, if you know what I mean."

Amy reached out to squeeze her hand. "I do know. I went through the
same stuff, after my first time. It's not the end of the world."

"I know it isn't. But I need to take it slow. Last night was great,
but I'm not ready for a relationship with a woman. And I guess
spending the night with you would have seemed too much like a
relationship."

Amy smiled at her again. She was obviously taking the warm, supportive
route, though Gretchen had no doubt that her long-term objective was
still to get into her pants. "So where do you want to go from here?"
Her hand slowly stroked Gretchen's fingers, and her eyes sparkled with
the eagerness that she carefully kept out of her voice. 'This is one
horny chick,' Gretchen thought to herself, 'and that's what's going to
get me that videotape.'

"Well," she said slowly, as if feeling for the words, "like I said I'm
not ready for a relationship. But I would like to get to know you
better. How about we go back to your room and talk?"

An hour later she was seated on Amy's bed, slowly sipping a cup of
tea. Outwardly she was calm, but inwardly frustration raged--her plan
had been to wait for Amy to excuse herself and use the bathroom, but
the girl's bladder control was superhuman! Meanwhile Gretchen was
running out of excuses for staying there, and she could tell from the
look in Amy's eye that the girl now believed that they had come back
to the room for sex. It was a reasonable conclusion; they had made
love just the night before, Gretchen had invited herself back into the
girl's bedroom, and now they sat and talked about nothing while both
were acutely conscious that they were sitting on the same bed where
they had done nasty things to one another less than twelve hours
before. Gretchen could almost see the clock above Amy's head that
counted down the minutes until the girl would simply leap on her and
tear her clothes off.

And the truth be told, Gretchen was starting to feel a little horny
herself. She was straight, she did not want to sleep with this woman a
second time, she did not want anything to happen between them--and yet
her body would not let her forget how much pleasure Amy had given her,
in this very room, on this very bed. Every time Amy got up to do
something and came back to the bed, she would sit a little closer to
Gretchen. Every time Gretchen could feel the proximity of her body as
if there was an electrical field that stretched between them and made
her skin tingle and itch. She knew that Amy was going to kiss her, she
knew that it was going to happen soon, but she couldn't leave the
bedroom without the tape. No matter what, she couldn't leave until she
had what she needed.

Then the invisible countdown reached zero and Amy began to lean
forward slowly. With a sigh of resignation Gretchen closed her eyes
and waited for it to happen, feeling more willing than she cared to
admit. Their lips met in a deep and slow kiss, Amy's hand holding the
back of Gretchen's head as their mouths worked together. It was a
sweet kiss that developed into a very nice kiss that developed into an
incredible kiss, the sort of kiss that inspires bad poetry. Gretchen
groaned against Amy's tongue, completely entrapped by the sensuousness
of the girl's delicious mouth. Her body pressed tightly up against
Amy's, and she could feel two firm breasts squeeze against her own.
Later she might still deny it, but right now she wanted those breasts,
she wanted to taste that skin, she wanted Amy every bit as much as the
girl wanted her. Amy was wearing overalls, and breaking the kiss
Gretchen tugged the straps down and lifted her tee shirt to nuzzle her
chest and kiss her nipples. Amy groaned and fell back onto the bed,
pulling Gretchen down on top of her. The bed creaked beneath them as
their bodies intertwined.

As Gretchen wrestled with the buttons, zippers, and snaps that held
Amy's clothes together, she stole a quick glance over her shoulder at
the hidden camera and the tape that was even now recording her second
lesbian experience. That was still the real prize, and she was going
to get it. Things hadn't gone the way she planned, it was true, but
the opportunity was still there; all she had to do was make love to
Amy, wait for her to fall asleep like she had done the night before,
and then escape with the tape. Later on she could deal with questions
at her sorority about what had happened to the tape. Certainly it
would be a lot better to look like she was careless than to be
identified as one of Suzanne's secret lesbians.

Finally the overalls came away and eagerly Gretchen pulled off Amy's
panties in the same movement. She fell hungrily on the girl's naked
form, her mouth sucking at everything it could reach: breasts, belly,
kneecaps, toes. Gretchen moved up Amy's naked form to kiss her again,
very hard, then impatiently she spread the girl's legs and went down
on her with abandon.

Amy let out a cry like a wild thing, her back arching slightly.
Gretchen used her hands to spread the girl's legs out even further, as
far as they would go, while her tongue worked furiously at Amy's clit.
She felt voracious; it was like she was starving to death and Amy was
a banquet laid out only for her. She attacked the girl's sex eagerly,
and her own passion added to Amy's excitement and brought her to a
loud climax after only a few minutes. Gretchen flung herself on top of
her for a passionate kiss while Amy tugged at her clothes. Gretchen
impatiently helped her: she felt that she could not be naked quickly
enough.

Finally two naked bodies were intertwined on the bed. Amy kissed her
deeply and insistently while she fingered Gretchen's sex. She knew
just how to do it, neither too fast nor too slow, and Gretchen was
already so excited that she came hard on Amy's fingers, moaning her
ecstasy into the girl's mouth. Amy wasn't done, though; she repeated
her path from the night before, kissing and tonguing her way down
Gretchen's exquisite form until, once again, she had Gretchen gasping
on the edge of orgasm. Lifting up Gretchen's legs she put them on her
shoulders, and then lifted Gretchen's hips so she could eat her from a
kneeling position. Gretchen felt quite overcome; dangling from Amy's
shoulders was a little like being tied up, and the feeling of helpless
submission heightened the eroticism of her emotions, which were now
very intense. She felt her second orgasm coming, and this time she
groaned Amy's name at the moment of climax, her hips bucking in
mid-air as Amy lapped furiously at her cunt.

That was more pleasure than Gretchen had felt in years, but still Amy
wasn't done with her. After a tender interlude of kissing she pulled
away with a mischievous smile and lay down with her head at Gretchen's
groin. She pulled gently at Gretchen, encouraging her to roll over on
top of her, and soon the two girls were pleasuring each other
simultaneously. Gretchen thought it was possibly the most erotic thing
she had ever done; she had sucked her boyfriends off before, of
course, and some of them had gone down on her, but they had never gone
69 before. She would lick and finger Amy for a while, and when Amy's
ministrations were particularly pleasurable she would rest her head on
the girl's warm thigh and just focus on the feeling for a while. Then
she would return her attentions to her partner, enjoying the fact that
she could give pleasure and receive it at the same time. In this way
they continued on for what seemed like an hour; since they had both
already climaxed neither one was right on the edge this time. But
eventually Gretchen could feel it coming along: an orgasm that was
going to dwarf the other two, and she was just beginning to give in to
the trembling climax when suddenly the bedroom door banged open. "Hey
Amy, guess what I just ... OH SHIT!"

Gretchen looked up from between Amy's thighs to stare straight into
the eyes of another woman, this one as butch as Amy was femme. For
three long seconds there wasn't a sound, then the dyke suddenly burst
out laughing and ran out of the room, pulling the door shut behind
her.

Gretchen would have preferred it if that had been the end of her
encounter with Amy, but to her surprise the moment of inadvertent
exhibitionism only heightened the arousal that she was already
feeling. Amy had stopped tonguing her, so she ground her hips in the
girl's face in an urgent plea that said, "Bring me off!" Quickly Amy
resumed her magical lovemaking, and again the trembling started
between Gretchen's legs. She plunged her face down between Amy's
thighs and thrust her tongue deep inside the girl, screaming her
ecstasy into Amy's sex even as she heard answering cries from the
other side of the bed. The two girls shook in a thunderous,
simultaneous orgasm, and for long moments afterwards lay side by side
as if stunned, feeling the sweat evaporate from their bodies.

Some time later Gretchen lay in Amy's arms, enjoying the warmth of her
smooth skin even while her thoughts were troubled. It seemed she was
having more and more trouble extricating herself from this situation:
getting the Post-It meant being recorded on the tape, and now getting
the tape meant being discovered in the arms of another woman. Gretchen
didn't know who the dyke was, and that scared her--she might be able
to trust Amy to keep a secret, but if the dyke spread stories about
Amy's new lover, or worse if the dyke recognized Gretchen from
somewhere and spread her name around ... yikes! In her mind Gretchen
imagined the tale already sweeping campus, every student abuzz with
the news of how she was a closeted lesbian given to random trysts with
the sisters of Sigma Sigma Sigma. She knew she was being paranoid, but
still ... it couldn't hurt to speak with the dyke and ask her to be
discrete, could it?

"Amy?"

"Hmmmm?" The sleepy reply came from just behind her left shoulder,
where Amy's face rested, the two girls spooning. Her left arm
encircled Gretchen in a snug embrace that left her hand cupping
Gretchen's breast.

"Who was that girl who walked in on us?"

"Oh." Amy stirred at that and rose up on her right elbow. Her hand
moved slowly to stroke Gretchen's naked hip and stomach. "That was
Bela. She's sort of a friend of mine."

"Bela? That's really her name?"

Amy laughed. "Actually I think she took it in honor of Bela Abzug.
She's really political."

Gretchen had no idea who Bela Abzug was, but figured that wasn't the
most important thing right now. "She lives here?"

Amy nodded and snuggled up to spoon Gretchen again. "Don't worry about
it, though. She won't say anything."

'That's what I need to make sure of,' Gretchen thought, but first she
closed her eyes. It wouldn't matter this time if she fell asleep, and
it felt really nice to cuddle with Amy between her soft white sheets.

Two hours later she hurried out of the building, the videotape safe in
her purse. It felt strange to finally leave Tri-Sig house by the front
door, in broad daylight. Bela hadn't been in her room when Gretchen
knocked, but by then she remembered that she had seen her before at
the library. She was pretty sure that Bela worked there. Her plan was
to meet with the woman and ask for her silence, which was certainly a
reasonable request. Even so Gretchen was prepared to offer her money,
if that's what she wanted. Whatever it took she needed to make sure
that this one last loose end was tied up, and after that everything
would finally be OK.

She went to the library the next day, and soon spotted Bela pushing a
wheeled cart loaded with books into the stacks. She hurried after her
and caught up in a remote section deep inside the stacks. It was a
good place to talk, no one came back there so there was no one around
who might hear the embarrassing details that Gretchen would have to
bring up.

"Hi, Bela?" she called.

"Yeah?" the woman answered in a low, husky voice. She was the very
image of a dyke: heavy athletic build, shapeless clothing, crew cut,
and from the looks of it no makeup had touched her face in years. Part
of Gretchen wondered, if she wanted to look like a man so badly, why
she didn't simply pay for the sex change operation and get it over
with?

"Ummm ... do you remember me?" Gretchen asked, suddenly
self-conscious.

Bela looked her up and down, her gaze openly lingering on the place
where Gretchen's breasts swelled against the cotton of her tee shirt.
"Yeah, I remember you. You're the sugar tit who was going down on
Amy."

"Right," Gretchen answered, by now feeling very embarrassed. Sugar
tit--was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult? "So anyway, I
wanted to talk to you because I'd really like it if you, y'know, kept
this between you and me."

"You and me," Bela said, as if weighing the words. "Is there a you and
me?"

"I mean I'd like you to keep it a secret. You see, I have a lot..."

"A lot to think through, yada yada yada," Bela answered, her voice
thick with disgust. "You straight chicks are all alike. You come to
graze in our pastures, 'just for fun,' and then hope that the whole
thing will go away when it's time to run back to your football-player
boyfriends. So I saw you eating Amy's pie and now you're afraid that
I'll tell everyone about it, right? Is that it?"

Gretchen's mind wildly searched for the right words. This wasn't going
the way she planned. "No, really, I...."

"You want me to keep it a secret. But why would I want to do you a
favor like that?"

"I...."

"Maybe you could do me a favor in return?"

Gretchen paused, suddenly wary. But what choice did she have? "Sure,
whatever you want," she said without enthusiasm.

"Whatever I want eh?" Bela asked, her eyes suddenly alight with
amusement. "What I want is to be Amy."

"Amy?" Gretchen asked, suddenly knowing where this was headed.

"Yeah, Amy--Amy from about 24 hours ago, when your pretty little face
was buried between her legs. That's what I want. So tell me, sugar
tit: are you willing to fuck one girl to keep her from telling
everyone that you fucked another girl?"

It was interesting, kissing Bela; it wasn't quite like kissing a boy,
but it wasn't like kissing Amy either. It was somewhere in between,
combining the tenderness of a woman's lips with a man's eager,
assertive tongue. Gretchen found that she liked it more than she
thought she would. She didn't have to think too much about what they
were doing, either, she simply let Bela take her in her arms and do
whatever she wanted right there on the floor, between the rows of
musty-smelling books. Part of her mind realized that another student
could come along at any time, but she actually found that thought sort
of arousing. It was like she was in a race against time: could Bela
make her come, and could she bring Bela to orgasm, before someone saw
them? It was dangerously titillating.

Happily Bela was a fast worker; in less than a minute's time
Gretchen's shirt and pants were in a heap on the floor, soon to be
joined by her bra. Bela pushed her back onto the cold linoleum floor
and kissed her deeply, her tongue venturing so far into Gretchen's
mouth that she nearly gagged. Soon Gretchen's breathing was ragged and
she reached out her arms to encircle Bela's neck and pull her mouth
down even tighter over her own. As long as she was going to get
fucked, she wanted to be well and truly fucked.

Bela's breath soon grew heavy as well, and the dyke moved down to
Gretchen's chest to take in a mouthful of her right breast while her
fingers slipped into Gretchen's panties to probe her sex. Gretchen
found it to be glorious; in her mind she imagined that she was a young
virgin being plundered by a lesbian pirate. She lay back and spread
her arms and legs wide, surrendering all her treasures and arching her
back to bring her chest to Bela's eager mouth. Bela gorged herself on
this feast, moving over Gretchen's voluptuous body with tongue,
fingers, and mouth, sucking, kissing, tonguing, and fingering her
until Gretchen was close to climax.

And still Bela hadn't ventured between her legs, and Gretchen found
herself eagerly anticipating that moment. If the woman was this good
at foreplay, the sex should be unbelievable. The bitch sure made her
wait, though--Bela stripped her panties away but she only feinted at
her snatch, kissing and licking the inside of her thighs and making
moves at going down on her, but always veering away at the last
second. Gretchen was aroused and pissed off at the same time; she kept
trying to grab Bela's head with her hand to force the woman down on
her, but the dyke was nothing if not elusive. Finally Gretchen was
almost howling with frustration, consumed with the urgent desire to
reach climax.

Then, when her need was at its greatest, Bela finally descended on her
like a bird of prey seizing its next meal. Gretchen felt a tongue
envelop her clitoris, swirling around it rapidly and flicking it in
confident, practiced movements. The feeling was electric; she gasped
loudly and closed her eyes, her hands moving to roam her own body and
massage her breasts. As good as she hoped Bela would be, somehow the
dyke was even better. Bela performed a clinic of oral sex on Gretchen,
who could only groan and shake as the waves of pleasure grew ever
higher. Still she had not come, because every time Bela recognized the
early signs of orgasm she would pull back and slow the movements of
her tongue and mouth until Gretchen's body had subsided. The
excitement grew continually though, until Gretchen was afraid she
might hyperventilate and pass out. Finally she took matters into her
own hands: she grabbed great handfuls of Bela's short, wiry hair and
forced the woman's mouth down on her sex. Grinding her hips
lasciviously into the dyke's face she finally climaxed with a great,
gutteral moan and a shudder of her hips. For long moments it was as if
the air had been forced out of her; Gretchen was captured in the
moment of greatest ecstasy and saw nothing but the stars that swam in
front of her eyes. Then the moment passed, and with a slow shuddering
gasp she drew air into her lungs and collapsed back onto the dusty
linoleum.

Afterwards she could not say how long she lay there with her eyes
closed, oblivious to the rest of the world. The entire student body
could have marched past, remarking loudly on her nudity, and she would
not have noticed. Her first sensation was of a calloused hand stroking
her breasts, and of nimble fingers lightly pinching her nipples.
Finally she opened her eyes to see Bela, now as naked as she was,
lying beside her. "I'd say you liked that, sugar tit. Has a man ever
fucked you like that?"

Gretchen would have shaken her head no, but she still didn't want to
move. The orgasm was past but her body still glowed with the memory of
it, and she wanted to savor the sensation a while longer. She could
feel her hair plastered against her face and the cool air that brushed
over her skin, and could only imagine the sweat that must have covered
her body in a thin sheen. 'Unbelievable,' was the word that kept going
through her head. She had never known that sex could be that good.

It would have been intimidating, trying to pleasure Bela after a
virtuoso performance like that. Gretchen was relieved to find that
Bela didn't want to be pleasured; instead she simply french-kissed
Gretchen while riding on top of her, rubbing her clit against
Gretchen's thigh. It was a simple procedure but effective, and Bela
came to orgasm two times before Gretchen had even fully caught her
breath. Just as a way of saying "thanks" Gretchen brought her off a
third time by lifting her hips to rub Bela's sex vigorously with her
leg, while she stuck her tongue deeply into the woman's eager mouth.

They got dressed without a word. Gretchen's hair and clothes were
covered with dust, and not too long ago such a situation would have
horrified her, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to care this
time. Maybe it was because the situation had become so surreal; she
wasn't gay--she was still pretty sure of that--but somehow she had
managed, despite her best intentions, to have three lesbian encounters
in the space of three days. What was next--would the walls and
bookshelves be wheeled back to reveal that she had stumbled onto the
set of an erotic lesbian film? She could only shake her head ruefully;
it was all so strange.

Finally the buttons were buttoned and the snaps were snapped, and it
was time to go. Gretchen found that it was strangely awkward, saying
goodbye to a stranger you had just fucked; "see ya" didn't seem quite
appropriate to the situation. Just then she saw that Bela was looking,
not into her eyes, but at her lips, and so instead of saying anything
she simply moved in close, kissed her hard, and left. Walking out of
the library her legs felt a little unsteady. "That's it," she said to
herself, "no more anonymous lesbian sex until I've had something to
eat."

Things were quiet for the next few days; Gretchen found herself
thinking quite a bit about Amy, but she stayed away from the coffee
shop and so successfully avoided dealing with that situation just yet.
Eventually a week passed and a second team of sisters snuck in to
recover the cameras. There was a bit of a hubub when the tapes were
collected and the one from Amy's room was missing, but no one could
say whether it had been lost when the cameras were deployed or when
they were collected and so nothing much came of it. The tapes
themselves proved to be completely useless to Suzanne's ridiculous
plan; ironically enough there was only one lesbian in Sigma Sigma
Sigma who was getting any action at all, and Gretchen had already
stolen that tape. With no "secret lesbians" to expose, Suzanne sulked
for a few days but then returned to her regular routine of pointless
malice.

As for the tape, Gretchen found herself strangely reluctant to destroy
it, as she knew she should and as she had intended to do from the
beginning. The fact was that she had good memories of Amy; she wasn't
a genius of sweaty, gasping sex like Bela was, but she was a sweet and
tender lover and Gretchen's mind kept returning to the memory of Amy's
lips on her skin. Every now and then, when no one was around, she'd
take the tape out to play it on her VCR, which always got her into the
sort of mood that her boyfriend really enjoyed. He might not have
enjoyed it so much, though, if he had known that, when they made love,
she often fantasized about a girl.

Then one afternoon she came back from a lecture to find a yellow
Post-It on her door, with instructions written in Suzanne's girlish
handwriting to come and see her immediately. As Gretchen walked to
Suzanne's room she had the definite impression that she could hear her
chickens coming home to roost.

"You wanted to see me?"

Suzanne was seated at her desk, dressed in a perfect pink and white
woman's suit that made her look like a Mary Kay catalog come to life.
"Yes, Gretchen, thank you for coming. Please close the door behind
you."

Gretchen knew something was up then; Suzanne had never shown any
interest in talking with her before, and certainly not in private. She
desperately scanned back over the recent days, wondering what might
have given her away. Had someone seen her with Bela?

Suzanne's face was grave as she held something up in her hand, and
Gretchen's stomach dropped like a stone when she realized what it was:
a videotape. "Two of our sisters borrowed your VCR today to watch a
movie they had rented, and they found this tape inside. They suspected
that it was the missing Tri-Sig tape, and so they delivered it to me
immediately. You were lucky that they didn't watch it themselves
first."

Gretchen nodded miserably, though she didn't feel very lucky. That was
it--she was out of the sorority. Her only hope was that Suzanne didn't
have something even more nasty planned for her.

"Of course I could see why you concealed the tape, once I had watched
it. I can only imagine why you didn't destroy it immediately, not to
mention why you were so indiscrete in the first place. I never thought
of you as a stupid girl, Gretchen--your GPA is the highest in the
house--but I think we can agree that you were very, very stupid this
time."

Gretchen nodded emphatically at that, her eyes beginning to brim with
tears. Very stupid indeed. She had tried to cover her tracks, but no
matter what she did she kept falling deeper and deeper into the trap!

Suzanne was rambling on, not looking at Gretchen now, as if she was
not even talking to her. "I always knew that the conspiracy existed,
but I never dreamed that it was so close to home. It's especially
shocking to find that the secret lesbian community has infiltrated
your own home." She looked at Gretchen accusingly. "At first I
couldn't believe it. I had to watch that ... that filth several times
before I was sure that it was you."

Several times? The germ of an idea began to grow in Gretchen's mind.

"Once you find a weed in your garden, you must root it out! Pull it up
and cast it far away!"

Gretchen wasn't listening to the words anymore, but was looking
closely at Suzanne's face. Her skin appeared to be flushed, and was it
Gretchen's imagination or were her clothes ever so slightly rumpled?

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Gretchen did not. She knew that words would be useless now, and so
instead she was going to try something. It was a pretty wild gamble,
but if she lost it wouldn't make matters much worse, while if she
won.... She stood up from her chair and walked over to where Suzanne
was sitting. Reaching out, she stroked her hair once, and then put her
hand behind the woman's head and leaned down to kiss her passionately.

Suzanne's entire body tensed when Gretchen's lips met her own. For two
seconds, then three, Gretchen wondered whether her hunch had been
wrong, but then Suzanne gave a little moan and her mouth surged up
into the kiss. Triumphantly Gretchen pressed her tongue between
Suzanne's lips and swirled it around in her mouth. Her hunch had been
right--Suzanne was a rabid homophobe because she was afraid of her own
lesbian desires!

It was a good thing that Gretchen had closed the door when she came
in, because the two of them were soon so distracted that they might
not have bothered with privacy when there were lips to kiss, tongues
to suck, and clothing to remove. Gretchen still didn't like Suzanne
very much, but she liked the way she kissed and she had to admit that
the girl was great looking. It was quite fun to reveal her body bit by
bit, unwrapping her like a Christmas present and savoring each patch
of naked skin as it was revealed. Suzanne looked so delicious in her
matching pink Victoria's Secret bra and panties, her blonde hair
splayed out across the bed and her full breasts pressing up and out
around their material confinement, that Gretchen pulled back for a
moment to suck on the girl's perfectly manicured toes and drink the
vision in. That's where she was when Suzanne climaxed the first time,
and her second orgasm came when Gretchen was nuzzling her naked
breasts and flicking the nipples with her tongue. The third orgasm
came with Gretchen's tongue against her clit and was accompanied by
such ear-splitting screams that two sisters knocked on the bedroom
door and asked if everything was OK. Suzanne called out in a hoarse
voice that everything was fine, it was only a cramp. The girls left,
which was a lucky thing since the door wasn't locked and a certain
Delta Chi President and crusader against secret homosexuality would
have had a lot of explaining to do if she was found with a naked
woman's head between her legs.

After that the theatrics were pretty much over. Suzanne tried
enthusiastically to give to Gretchen as much pleasure as she had
received, but in the end it was the thought of the Ice Queen giving
her head that brought Gretchen to climax more than anything that
Suzanne was actually doing to her. She spent that night in Suzanne's
bed and kept her up until late in the night, moving slowly over her
lean, tanned body and bringing her to orgasm after orgasm with slow,
insistent kisses and strokes of her tongue. She scoured her memory for
tricks and techniques that Amy or Bela had used to make her whimper
with desire, and she used all of them to bring her new partner to
unimagined heights of pleasure. Suzanne returned the favor each time,
clumsily at first but with ever greater confidence and skill as hour
followed hour and the stars circled overhead. When they woke up in
each other's arms late the next morning, Gretchen was happy to witness
the first sign of tenderness she had ever seen in Suzanne's face. With
a little more romancing, and a lot more lovemaking, Gretchen figured
that she just might make a decent person of this soon-to-be-former
Bitch Goddess.

In her own mind Gretchen felt more free than she ever had before.
There would be no more talk of "secret lesbians" at Delta Chi, now
that Suzanne's own secret had been revealed. This also meant that she
was free to see Amy again, if she wanted to--and increasingly that
seemed like a good idea. The sweet girl with the long black hair
promised to be a very pleasant companion, and not only in bed.
Gretchen's boyfriend wouldn't like that much if he found out about it,
but she was starting to get a little sick of his macho posturing and
his loudmouth, alcoholic fraternity brothers. She even figured that
she might swing by the library to see Bela once or twice; she knew of
a few other places in the stacks that might be good for a brisk,
breathless sexual interlude. She certainly liked the idea of
experiencing Bela's polished lovemaking again, and the thought of what
an expert-class dyke might be able to do with a strap-on left Gretchen
breathless and weak in the knees. Then there was Suzanne, and the
world of possibilities that she represented. All in all Gretchen
figured that even without her boyfriend she wasn't going to have too
much trouble finding someone to keep her bed warm during the long
winter nights.

Looking back over the past several days, she had to laugh: she owed
Suzanne a big thank-you. The Delta Chi campaign against the secret
lesbian community had introduced Gretchen to a whole new world of
pleasure, one that she was only beginning to explore. She would have
to thank Suzanne for that inadvertent favor, and knew just how she
would do it. Yes, she knew exactly how she was going to thank her, and
she made a mental note to stop by the grocery store on the way home
from class--she'd need about a gallon of whipped cream and chocolate
sauce before Suzanne was properly thanked.

The End. Hope you enjoyed it. Post comments to alt.sex.stories.d.

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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