Trigynia 01

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Headmistress' lesbian infatuation.
8.2k words
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 04/26/2009
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Ruby and The Rector's Wife

Ruby Herrington was a happy, contented lady. She did not think of herself as lucky - she and her husband, Dominic, had worked hard to achieve all they had - but she knew well enough that many others would work equally hard and never realize their dreams. In fact, this understanding was a central driver in her and Dominic's life. He had supported himself through five years at Med School, slogged his way through two years of 80 hour weeks as a Junior, followed by a further two years as a locum, before finding the backing to set up his own practice with two friends. She had worked equally hard to qualify and practice as a teacher while taking on virtually all the challenges that come with bring up twin girls. None of these life moments had seemed like a trial to either of them - on the contrary, they were both full of fiery ambition to do some good in the world.

Now, aged 48, her daughters both through university and into careers of their own, Ruby had found a delicious, delightful and joyful reason to feel blessed by the gods. Her fourteenth year as Headmistress of St Cecilia's Primary School had begun with some bad news - one of her most gifted teachers resigned to follow her husband to a new job in Seattle. Making a good appointment in September is notoriously difficult, yet whether she owed it to good luck, good judgment or fate, Ruby found the absolutely perfect replacement. Just returned from two years in Australia came Cristabel Pozzi.

From the moment Cristabel walked into her office Ruby knew she was just ideal for St Cecilia's. There was something about her that seemed to shine, seemed to fill the space around her with a priceless combination of levity and seriousness. She had presence. She was also breathtakingly beautiful. Her Italian heritage was clear in her dark eyes, lustrous hair and olive skin, whilst from her English mother she had inherited fabulously high cheekbones, pouting lips, a pretty little nose, a perfect figure and what can only be described as an aristocratic demeanour. Ruby appointed her there and then.

By the end of Cristabel's first week it was as though she had been at the school for years. Her class adored her and - as Ruby noted through several observed lessons in that first week - responded with their fullest attention and commitment. So did the staff. Like so many English primary schools, all the teachers and support staff were women. Supportive of each other though we women always are, it is sometimes hard to resist the call of jealousy when first joined by someone younger, prettier and, frankly, classier than oneself - and everyone else. Not so with Cristabel. She was, as people would term it, quite public school in her accent and mannerisms - but that was a fact, not an attitude. Yes, she was the daughter of Italian Count and an English Lady, so what - she was also touchingly modest and unaffected ... and funny ... and a serious, dedicated and excellent teacher. All of which made her someone it just felt good to have around the place. Similarly so, the parents - the few men who regularly came to collect their children were soon joined by others, suggesting parents' evening later in the term would be a sell-out. Equally, the mothers quickly took to her - not because of or even despite her looks and poise, but - simply because she was so obviously dedicated to helping their children learn and achieve.

The mere fact of having Cristabel in and around the school added to Ruby's contentment, but it was something else that made her feel the touch of a divine presence. That very first meeting with the beautiful young woman had aroused in her feelings so unusual that it took her a while to recognize and understand them for what they were. As a friend, confidant or simply as a caring acquaintance, Ruby had loved many women. She had admired many for their beauty, acknowledged the glamorous magnetism of some, the charm of others and the animal power to arouse lust in a few. She had never found it the least awkward or unconventional to admit to finding some women physically attractive. But, until she met Cristabel, she had never imagined being sexually aroused by another woman.

It actually took Ruby over a week to realize that the strangely warm yet troublesome feeling she had every time she thought of Cristabel was desire; and another couple of weeks to accept it. Initially, she tried to convince herself that what she felt was admiration. She felt an inner glow when watching a skilled teacher teach and she was always happier with vivacious people around - they made her feel all the more at ease with the world. She was also confidant enough of her own attractiveness to feel positive and self-assured in the presence of beauty.

So, she did not instantly connect her detailed appreciation of Cristabel's sensual sexiness with a heightened sense of her own sexuality. Whilst she had never been one for the most risqué of underwear she did pamper herself with exquisite silk and lace bras, knickers and stockings, to compensate for the professional restraint of the simple suits and dresses she wore to school. Admiring herself semi-nude had long been an innocent, if slightly immodest, morning ritual. There was therefore, to begin with at least, no reason why she should connect the subtly increasing pleasure she found in dressing each morning with the feelings she experienced being around Cristabel. Until, one morning, absentmindedly caressing her breasts while trying to decide between two bras, she found herself wondering how the young woman's nipples might compare to hers.

Even then the significance of that thought did not strike Ruby straightaway. Standing in front of a full-size mirror in nothing but a pair of lace front panties, she caressed her breasts and nipples lovingly for a moment while daydreaming about the glimpse she had caught the day before of Cristabel's breasts. She had entered class near the end of a lesson to find her new recruit kneeling on the floor, surrounded by attentive seven year-olds captivated by her telling and acting of the Jungle Book. All, save Ruby, had been completely oblivious to the fact that the top three buttons of the young teacher's blouse had come undone. Smiling encouragingly, as if in appreciation of the lesson, her eyes had been captivated by the perfect roundness of Miss Pozzi's bosom, caressed by a navy-blue satin bra.

Closing her eyes in the privacy of her bedroom, Ruby's daydream drifted into fantasy. Caressing her breasts with greater urgency she imagined herself in the classroom with Cristabel. As the children leave the room her most beautiful member of staff smiles at her sweetly and, with her eyes slightly lowered to accept her dominance, unfastens the remaining buttons of her blouse. Smiling, with her Headmistress' eyes upon her, Cristabel slips her blouse and the straps of her bra off her shoulders. As the fantasy took hold, as Ruby imagined the seductive lines of Cristabel's shoulders and the soft magnificence of her breasts, she squeezed and caressed her bosom urgently, excitedly. It felt so deliciously decadent to be naked - but for a pair of gossamer thin lace panties - in front of Cristabel.

Slowly at first Ruby stroked and pleased her nipples for the young woman to watch, but quickly her desire turned to unquenchable lust. Panting now, she hurriedly slipped a hand from her bosom to her pussy, stroking herself tantalizingly through the delicate lace for a moment before rushing her fingers inside to feel the trembling eagerness of her plump labia, the warm stickiness of her soft vulva.

With sudden self-awareness and embarrassment Ruby opened her eyes, pulled her hands from her body and rushed to the bathroom to cool her face and her passion.

The rest of the day had been a trial, a torment. She felt anxious and disturbed by the depth of arousal that had taken such a hold of her, and tongue-tied and uneasy every time she saw its inspiration. Unable to concentrate properly, she had let the day pass her by and left early, her mind all the more troubled by the simple fact that none of the trial and torment she had suffered had actually lessened the attraction she felt for Cristabel. Rather, what worried her - frightened her even - was the realization that, with each passing hour, the longing she had to make herself come while thinking of the young woman grew stronger. She did not - could not - understand where that feeling had come from. Never had she ever previously imagined herself making physical love with another woman. Not because she thought of lesbian love as in any way wrong or abhorrent. On the contrary, she had never doubted the beauty in such love, just her desire for it. Now, suddenly, without warning or expectation, she could no longer ignore the fact that her feelings for Cristabel were both Sapphic and physical.

She didn't want to go straight home and there was no-one she felt she could trust enough to discuss such intimate thoughts. She had plenty of friends, some of whom she had known virtually all her life. Good, close and supportive friends, all of whom, she felt sure, would be shocked speechless by a confession of lesbian infatuation with a woman a little more than half her age. She drove out of town to one of her favourite places - a desolate lookout spot with views across the South Downs in one direction, out towards France in the other. There, with a warm autumnal breeze rolling in from the sea, she sat alone on a bench and tried to rationalize her situation. After an hour, during which her thoughts had been routinely interrupted by an inescapable longing to explore a fantasy of caressing and being caressed by Cristabel, she accepted the plain simplicity of her situation. No matter that she could not explain why, the fact was she was deeply and sexually attracted to Miss Pozzi. That simple admission was a release. In accepting the existence of such a longing she recognized that it need not lessen any of her other desires. There was no reason why her feelings for Cristabel should weaken her love for Dominic, or her daughters, or her close friends; nor need it reduce her commitment to the school; nor diminish her determination to achieve her many ambitions. The unexpected desire she felt for Cristabel could be, she rejoiced, an addition to her life, not a replacement of any part of it.

Her challenge was how to live with that addition. The more she thought of it, the more she felt she would have to do so alone. After reaffirming her intuition about the impossibility of discussing her feelings with her closest friends, she pondered whether she could share them with Cristabel, quickly accepting that this would be as if to blame the beautiful young woman for innocently bringing out a previously dormant passion. This reasoning also acted as a release. If she could neither turn off the lesbian longing burning inside her, nor share it with the woman she desired, then she would have to find physical and emotional satisfaction alone. Instantly, she felt liberated and intensely aroused - she felt a wanton urge to make love to herself, with Cristabel in her mind, as soon as possible, perhaps even right there and then. She looked around hurriedly to confirm that she was indeed completely alone. Then a renewed sense of calm eased her mind. She wanted to savour, not rush and crush her newly discovered love, she wanted to explore every emotion, realize every sensuous possibility.

She walked back to her car and drove home, her spirits lightened further as she remembered that Dominic had a PCT meeting that evening, meaning she would be alone till well after nine. It was a little after six thirty when she parked up. With a knowing assurance as to her destiny she calmly hit the button to close the garage door, sorted the alarm as she opened the front door, walked through to the kitchen, poured herself a large glass of chilled white wine, walked back through the hall and upstairs to her bedroom. She took a sip of the cool, dry wine, placed the glass down and looked at herself in the mirror. She tried to see herself as a woman of twenty-seven might see her, tried imagine how Cristabel saw her.

Slowly, Ruby had no need to rush the moment of her first lesbian seduction, she unbuttoned her dress and slipped it off. As if with Cristabel's eyes she examined her body. Her thighs were firm, the soft flesh above her dark grey stockings creamy and smooth; her hips curved symmetrically, easing into a waist as narrow as any 48 year old mother of twins could hope for; her stomach rose smooth and flat up to her full and rounded bosom; her neck was unlined, her face unblemished, the sparkle in her eyes undiminished. Her shoulder length brown hair, flecked with natural grey and golden highlights, shone lustrously; her lips, touched with a trace of gloss, pouted confidently; her cheekbones, lightly dusted, stood beautifully proud. I want you Ruby, she imagined Cristabel's voice whispering in her head.

"And I want you Cristabel," Ruby breathed aloud while unclasping her black and grey bra.

Watching herself avidly, Ruby caressed her naked breasts, feeling and adoring their soft plumpness, squeezing and teasing her nipples. Her touch was good, sure, loving and expert. She ran her fingertips around the dark, wide disc of her aureole, exciting herself, wanting to have herself. With more wanton urgency, she rolled her hardening nipples between finger and thumb, tightly, temptingly, excitingly, breaking free to caress the soft flesh of her bosom for a moment before returning her full attention to her enflamed nipples. Still caressing her bosom with her left hand, she eased the experienced and skilful fingers of her right down the smoothness of her belly, into the tightness of her black silk and lace panties, between the slippery warmth of her plump labia, down to the wet opening of her lusciously succulent vagina.

"Take me," she sighed, stretching her panties with unforgiving urgency as her lustful fingers sought her hungry pussy. "Oh my," she cried as she slid two fingers deep into herself, "oh I want this so."

In a sudden yet controlled rush Ruby released her breasts and used both hands to push her panties down her thighs. Holding her labia apart she gazed with wanton adoration at her shamelessly aroused clitoris and slippery vulva. "Take me Cristabel please, my body is yours, teach me how to love and come like a lady ... oh my sweet angel, I want you to make me come."

Losing herself to her passions, Ruby stepped back from the mirror, lay down on her bed and let herself enjoy the tender, caring, loving touch of her fingers. Masturbation was her only selfish pleasure - and one she had never tired of enjoying to the full since a chance discovery of orgasmic bliss as a teenager one boring rainy afternoon. She had, on a variety of occasions, let Dominic watch her, always finding such moments wonderfully erotic. But, she reasoned, if the fundamental ambition was self-fulfilment then the purest and deepest pleasure would always be found alone.

Lying across her bed in nothing but lace-topped stockings, her legs wide apart, her plump breasts rising and falling with ever deep and desirous breath, her fingers caressing and combing her lush bush, her pouting labia, her soft thighs, her gooey vulva, Ruby felt wonderfully alive and adventurous. The pleasure she sought was both familiar and completely unknown - familiar in that she had used her fingers and her imagination to make herself come a thousand times before; unknown in that unlike any previous moment, this time she wanted, intended coming exclusively with and for another woman. The desire to experience something spiritually lesbian was a massive turn-on for her. As she squeezed and teased her swollen clitoris she appreciated intuitively the difference between fleeting curiosity and abandonment to intently and entirely Sapphic desire.

As a woman who felt comfortable admiring the beauty of other women, Ruby had often allowed fantasies involving those she found most attractive to inspire her pursuit of orgasmic pleasure. Occasionally, she had imagined spying on two or three beautiful women caressing and pleasuring each other. Sometimes, reprising the erotic impact of masturbating for Dominic, she had imagined herself being secretly watched by one or more of her closest friends. Now and then, she had helped herself come while showering after her weekly gym class, moved by the untroubled and near-naked beauty around her. But, luscious as all these moments had been, in none of them had she actually imagined herself coming with or for another woman. Her pleasure had been inspired by the sensuality of women, not by a more focused desire to know, feel and reciprocate their sexuality.

But there, lying alone and all-but naked, she sought a very special kind of pleasure - she wanted to come believing she was doing so with, for and because of Cristabel. She wanted to believe that the fingers caressing and exciting her clitoris belonged to that beautiful young woman. She wanted to believe that such an exquisite beauty would want her. She wanted to believe that Cristabel would match her own nakedness, would slip off her own blouse, bra, skirt and panties and lie beside her, warm and nude. She wanted to believe that the gorgeous young thing would allow her to stroke her soft olive skin and caress her perfect round bosom. She wanted to believe she might feel the softness of Cristabel's luscious thighs, breathe the aromatic fragrance of her young pussy, kiss her lips, her nipples, her labia. She wanted to believe she could hear Cristabel's voice in her head, confessing her desire and moaning through her own pleasure: I want your pussy Ruby, she imagined Cristabel whispering, I want to love you there, feel inside you, make you come.

Exciting herself more and more, Ruby eased two long fingers inside her hungry and waiting sex while using her other hand to meet the longing beneath her clitoris. "Mmm, I love what you're doing to me," she moaned, her fingers sliding more quickly in and around her wet pussy, her clitoris pulsing more urgently beneath her fingertips. "Oh yes," she cried, "I want to come so much, make me come Cristabel, make me come like I've never come before, make me come like a woman who knows and adores the love and touch of another woman."

In the full grip of her fantasy Ruby took herself to a previously undiscovered Sapphic heaven. With commanding dexterity she twisted and massaged, rubbed and squeezed, pressed and caressed her clitoris, swooning beneath the previously unfathomed intensity of her lesbian arousal. Sensing the coming of an orgasm of violent and significant meaning, she drove a third finger inside her hot and slippery vagina, shuddering gorgeously as ripples of lustful pleasure began to fan out through her body. Rocking side to side with pleasure and desire she felt her hard nipples flow across the softness of her breasts, like ships laden with Sapphic want. She took herself completely, took full and complete possession of her body, teasing and loving herself towards a new dawn of lesbian satisfaction. Still, Cristabel lived in her head, her beauty present in both the luscious vibrations coursing through her body and the fantasy she had of herself being made to come by the girl's fingers. Yet, as she felt herself slipping closer and closer to an orgasm Ruby felt less and less in need of a specific woman's touch, more and more open to the lust of any gorgeous sister.

"Mmm, oh my god, I want to come so much," Ruby moaned, her fingers exploiting the depth and intensity of her lust, "I want to feel myself come, taste my come ... taste another woman's come ... oh yes," she cried out , her mind flooding with a riotous tumult of salacious thoughts and impious longing.

She wanted to share her lesbian epiphany with every woman she had ever admired, from close friends to those she had passed in the street. She closed her eyes and imagined her body stroked and caressed by innumerable loving hands and lips. As she felt the first tremors of climax quivering inside her she craved the feel of a woman's lips around her excitedly-hard nipples, and of another woman's tongue inside her succulent pussy, and of another's lips around her clitoris, and of another's against her mouth, kissing her with passionate abandon, encouraging her to abandon herself to any woman's passion.