FicWad

Sappho:

Simone's Notes:

Sappho's poetry centers on passion and love for various personages and both genders. The word lesbian derives from the name of the island of her birth, Lesbos, while her name is also the origin of the word sapphic; neither word was applied to female homosexuality until the nineteenth century. The narrators of many of her poems speak of infatuations and love, sometimes requited, sometimes not, for various females, but descriptions of physical acts between women are few and subject to debate. Whether these poems are meant to be autobiographical is not known, although elements of other parts of Sappho's life do make appearances in her work, and it would be compatible with her style to have these intimate encounters expressed poetically, as well. Her homoerotica should be placed in the context of the seventh century (BC). The poems of Alcaeus and later Pindar record similar romantic bonds between the members of a given circle.

Bette lied naked in her bed about to fall asleep when she heard the door slide up. She looked up to see Laurel sawing in the doorway looking at her. Bette sighed.

"Oh, it's you," she said. Laurel blinked at her.

"What's that's supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Nothing!"

"Uh-huh..."

"Really, it's nothing!" Bette patted the bed next to her.

"And why should I?"

"Pleaseee!" Bette batted her eyelashes at her. Laurel sighed and dropped her shoulders.

"Fine." Laurel processed to walk over to the bed. Bette held up her hand.

"Wait!"

Laurel paused. "Why?"

"You're overdressed."

"Huh?" Laurel looked down at herself. "Oh..."

Bette nodded at her. "Yeah."

"Alright." The deity stripped herself naked and crawled into bed with her lover. The pair smiled at each other. Bette lightly tapped Laurel on the tip of her nose.

"So, how are things with you?" she asked.

Laurel sighed aloud. "Don't remind me!"

"That bad?"

"Yeah." Laurel sighed out in frustration. "Damn it! Edward keeps trying to change the rules every time I get close enough to get the upper hand!"

Bette held her hand. "Poor baby. I could help out a bit if you want me to."

Laurel shook her head. "Nah. I just need to change my strategy."

"Okay. How?"

Her lover shrugged. "I'm still working on that." Bette gave her a kiss on the lips. Laurel kissed back as if to help try kill her stress. She took about thirteen seconds before pulling away again.

"And what about you?" Laurel asked. Bette gave her a puzzled look.

"What about me?" she asked.

"Well, how are things at your end?"

"A living nightmare. We're running out of exam rooms for the two-year students to take their exams. The Fallen Ones are breeding faster every day. The paperwork keeps piling up. Oh god. Make it all stop."

Laurel cuddled up close to her lover's small breasts. "There, there."

Bette shook her head. "When did this mess get so complicated? I liked it better when it was all simple here."

"Me too. We can still get it all back that way."

"How? What are we going to do to get there?"

Laurel gave her a dirty little smile. "Give me a kiss and I might think of something."

Bette smiled back at her. "I like that!" She leaned in to kiss her on the lips, but Laurel put up her head. Her girlfriend pouted at her. Laurel leaned in close to her ear.

"Not there. Down there," she whispered as she pointed at her crotch. Bette became wet as she slid down under the sheets. Laurel spread her legs to let her in. Her mind disappeared into pleasure as she felt her beloved's tongue invade between her lower lips.

Next Night

Next Time: The war is closing in under the bloody eclipse.