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“You really think my breasts are lovely. Mrs. Fletcher?”

“Oh yes. You know Sappho’s Sisters now has over 200 women members throughout New England. I visit the chapters periodically, and I get to, ummm, shall we say sample,” she laughed, “some of the members. I’m very familiar with breasts. Geraldine, will you let me kiss them?”

Very reluctantly, Geraldine opened her arms.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Fletcher kissed her on the mouth. Kissed her on the mouth with her tongue for a few minutes. Only then did she venture to those young, firm, but small breasts. “Like I said, they’re lovely. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

She was, and the young girl sighed. Her breasts had never felt like this. Her nipples had never felt like this. Geraldine Johnson had never felt like this. “Lovely, your breasts are lovely,” she whispered as her tongue played with a dark nipple. A first for Mrs. Fletcher, too.

“I’ve never felt like this, Mrs. Fletcher, but I have to tell you, I’d like to feel like that again.”

“If you mean it, and are ready, I can make you feel even better.” She slid her hand between Geraldine’s brown legs, which were closed.

Those legs didn’t open. “I-I-I don’t know. I’ve never . . .”

“Of course, you haven’t, but I think you came here hoping that just maybe, you’d learn about womanly love. Your poems say so.”

“Yes, but . . .” Her thighs opened wider, not too wide, but wide enough for Mrs. Fletcher’s hand to reach her kitty which she rubbed, gently of course, through her panties.

It wasn’t long before Lillian was on her knees. “Let me help you out of these.” And just like that Geraldine Johnson’s panties were off and she was naked.

A woman of Mrs. Fletcher’s experience knew exactly where her fingers belonged. Not immediately; she started by just rubbing Geraldine’s almost bare pussy lips. “You like that, Miss Johnson, don’t you?”

“How can you tell?”

“When a woman is excited, her pussy becomes damp; even wet. You’re damp; very damp.”

“Mrs. Fletcher, you called me a woman, not a girl.”

“Oh Geraldine, you’re definitely a woman.”

“I-I-I’m going to trust you, Mrs. Fletcher. My kitty is yours to do whatever you want.” She spread her legs wide.

“Your poems tell me that you know what I want.” Old Mrs. Fletcher was considered the matriarch of the sisters, not because of her age; there were older women. It was because numerous women; too numerous to list, could attest to her skillful tongue. Now, young, black Geraldine Johnson was experiencing it.

Mrs. Fletcher, like I said, had eaten a lot of pussy, and in recent years, she made sure to become acquainted with the newest members. All those eighteen or nineteen-year-olds. None of them tasted as delightful as Geraldine Johnson.

When she came up for air, “Miss Johnson, you have the most scrumptious pussy. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to keep eating you.”

“Mrs. Fletcher, I feel like my pussy is so wet. That’s what you do to me. Please.”

The older woman smiled. Yes, Geraldine was wet; juicy even, but Mrs. Fletcher was smiling because she hadn’t got to her clitoris yet. Now, she would.

There was little doubt that it was the greatest experience of Geraldine’s young life. As you’d expect. she’d never fucked a boy, but she was fucking Mrs. Fletcher’s tongue. “Oooooooh, ooooooooh, oooooooooooh. Oooh, oh God. Mrs. Fletcher, Mrs. Fletcher.”

“Call me Lillian,” Mrs. Fletcher mumbled. “Tell Lillian, you love her tongue.”

“I do, Lillian. You’re sending me to places I’ve never been. I love your tongue. My kitty loves your tongue. Please keep giving it to me.”

A half hour later, Geraldine Johnson was beside herself. “Mrs. Fletcher, whatever you want, I’ll be happy to give it to you. Do you want me to do you like you’ve been doing me?”

“Do you know how?”

“No, I’ve never, but who better to teach me than you?”

“Maybe when we’ve been together a few more times. I think it would be a very bad look and set a bad precedent if, on your first day with us, you were in a subservient position to me, by that I mean a young black woman on her knees pleasing my old white pussy.”

“But I’d like to learn,” Geraldine pouted.

“Don’t be so disappointed. In due time. Right now, you and I are going to walk arm in arm back to the parlor just like this.”

“Naked?”

“Yes, naked, and everyone will know by the expression on my face that I, Mrs. Lillian Fletcher was honored and privileged to deflower your delicious pussy.”

For Geraldine Johnson it was new. For members of Sappho’s Sisters, it was part of a long tradition.

They always met in private homes with the curtains tightly closed. Soon after arriving, women undressed. They read poetry naked, played music naked, discussed the latest novels they’d read, naked. And when they returned from their private rendezvous arm in arm, they were naked.

It was obvious to long time members when Mrs. Fletcher and Miss Johnson walked into the room that the older woman had been enjoying Geraldine’s honeypot. Lillian’s face was flushed and she had a big smile on her face. As she passed other couples, she whispered, “delicious, beautiful, tasty.”

As for Geraldine, she was embarrassed to be seen by everyone naked. She was ashamed of her small tits. It bothered her that other women, women of all ages, all white women were ogling her; even leering at her. Mrs. Fletcher whispered in her ear, “they all want a taste of your treasure. Embrace it, Geraldine.”

The following months saw Mrs. Fletcher’s tongue become more and more familiar with Geraldine Johnson’s pussy. She ate and ate until her knees ached and her tongue was worn out. She praised the young black woman’s deliciousness.

All the while, Geraldine was moaning, sighing, humping Lillian’s face. By their third meeting, she knew what was happening. “Ooooooh, Mrs. Fletcher, I’m coming again. Ooooooh, ooooooooh, oooh Mrs. Fletcher.”

When they departed that day, “Geraldine, I think you are ready to be introduced to the taste of a woman. Next time, I promise.”

It was a week until the next scheduled meeting of Sappho’s Sisters. Geraldine couldn’t wait, the very next day, she had her carriage take her to Mrs. Fletcher’s Beacon Hill mansion. A black servant, Bella, a woman, answered the door.

Over the years, women of all ages arrived unannounced. Bella wasn’t stupid; she knew why they were there. Old women, middle-aged woman, young woman. Shortly after their arrival she was dismissed for the day. As she gathered her things, she heard them. Those women and sometimes Mrs. Fletcher, herself, made loud noises. Noises that could be heard throughout the mansion. They were the same noises she made when her husband’s tongue was pleasing her.

Bella couldn’t imagine what this young black girl wanted with an old lady like Mrs. Fletcher or what Mrs. Fletcher wanted with a girl so young; a black girl at that. Well, she could imagine but couldn’t believe it.

She made it a point of slowly putting on her coat and street shoes, making sure she had all her belongings. Bella walked as close to Mrs. Fletcher’s boudoir as she dared. She heard it. ‘It’ was the moaning, sighing, whimpering of the young woman. “Ooooh, ooooh, Mrs. Fletcher, oooooooh, oooooooh.”

Quickly Bella left. Her husband would be home from work in a few hours. If she hurried, she had time for a quick shower. Bella wanted her husband to give her what she was certain that young black girl was getting.

The servant woman wasn’t wrong. Geraldine rushed to Mrs. Fletcher’s arms. “Lillian, I couldn’t wait for you to fulfill your promise.”

“I’m impressed with your enthusiasm, Miss Johnson, let me do you first to get in the mood.” They couldn’t get out of their clothes fast enough. Soon Geraldine was on her back, her ass on the edge of the bed. Mrs. Fletcher on her knees. “You’re more beautiful than yesterday. Just the sight of your kitty has my juices flowing. Then she started. It wasn’t too long before Bella heard those sounds that had her juices flowing, too.

An hour later, the young black girl had her first taste of a woman. Her first taste of pussy. “Slowly Geraldine, my pussy isn’t going anywhere. Lick it slowly. You have a marvelous tongue. With practice, you will be the most talented woman in the sisterhood.”

Geraldine mumbled, “Mrs. Fletcher, I never knew the taste of a woman could be so tantalizing. Will you let me practice all the time?”

“Let’s just concentrate on today. Just a little higher, dear.” The smile of Mrs. Fletcher’s face could not have been any wider.

TO BE CONTINUED

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