Passing as Elias (19 page)

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Authors: Kate Bloomfield

Tags: #Gay

BOOK: Passing as Elias
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With a swift movement Elizabeth lifted Merrill’s skirt until it was around her waist. She did not wear underpants, and a neat patch of dark hair could be seen between her thighs.

An intoxicating scent reached Elizabeth’s nostrils. It was like a drug, and she inhaled deeply. This made Merrill blush, and she looked deeply ashamed of herself as she parted her legs wider allowing Elizabeth more to gaze upon.

Elizabeth did not know what she was doing, but it felt so natural as she dropped to her knees as though about to worship her lover. She kissed Merrill’s inner thigh, her breath cascading over Merrill’s wetness.

“Sir, please,” Merrill tried to cover herself, “please, do not stare.”

Merrill was embarrassed, and Elizabeth smiled as she tried to shield herself. This reminded her of the first time she had lain with Captain Greenwood, how he had stared upon her like she were the most beautiful thing in the world.

Elizabeth now understood.

She wanted to smell Merrill. She wanted to taste her.

She inhaled, and was overwhelmed with the blissful perfume, the natural scent. It was heaven.

Elizabeth lowered her mouth and kissed around the patch of dark hair between Merrill’s thighs. She heard Merrill gasp audibly, and shy away.

“What are you doing?” Merrill said in a shaking voice, “Please, do not. I am embarrassed.”

Elizabeth ignored this, “You smell amazing.”


Do not say things like that,
” Merrill breathed, squirming.

“I want to taste you,” Elizabeth said glancing up at the expression on Merrill’s face. Never before had she considered doing this to another woman. Never before had Elizabeth imagined it being done to herself. She was not sure if it was a normal part of love making, yet it felt so right. She wanted to taste, to feel, and to smell Merrill.

Merrill was shocked. Her eyes were wide, and her face showed apprehension. Elizabeth could not resist her.

“May I?” Elizabeth asked.

Merrill did not say a word. A moment passed, and then she nodded.

And so Elizabeth lowered her mouth to Merrill, and kissed her there. Merrill gasped when Elizabeth’s tongue met her sex, and Elizabeth found her own body shaking.

“What a thing to do, sir!” Merrill gasped as Elizabeth’s tongue parted her and lapped up her essence, swirling and dipping inside her. The simple act of tasting Merrill caused Elizabeth such physical pleasure that she found it difficult not to moan as well. Merrill’s gasps shot through Elizabeth like an electric current.

Elizabeth licked, and suckled, bringing Merrill to the brink of climax. Merrill’s back arched, and with her hands on the back of Elizabeth’s head, she forced her tongue deeper. Fingernails dug into Elizabeth’s scalp, and she wanted to touch herself while she tended to Merrill, for she was itching to feel the pleasure too. Yet, she must not.

Elizabeth sank two fingers inside her, and flicked her tongue furiously over Merrill’s clitoris, making her squirm.

Finally, Merrill cried out and clenched her thighs. She convulsed upon the bench, writhing as though being tortured. It lasted an eternity, and Elizabeth lapped up the fresh wave that poured from her.

Panting, Elizabeth got to her feet and kissed Merrill on the mouth so she could taste her own sweetness.

They embraced, trying to catch their breath.

Five minutes passed before either of them spoke.

“Are you still leaving?” Merrill said.

Elizabeth did not reply and stared into the distance. She did not wish to rid herself of Elias’ persona, but she really had no choice. When Captain Greenwood returned it would be game over. It was best that Merrill forget all about Elias Searson.

Merrill seemed to have guessed the answer, and buried her face into Elizabeth’s chest.

“How long do we have?” she asked in a muffled voice.

Elizabeth inhaled deeply through her nose, “A month,” she said.

 

~

 

Elizabeth dreaded Captain Greenwood’s return. She found herself wishing that he would get lost at sea. She felt immediately guilty when she thought these things, for he was a good man who had never done wrong by her. But Elizabeth had done so much wrong by him. She had lain with another woman, and enjoyed it far more than lying with her own husband. True, Elizabeth had married George Greenwood out of convenience, yet that did not explain her attraction to the same sex. She knew she would go to hell for her actions, but Elizabeth felt sorry for Merrill more than herself.

Merrill was depressed, and quiet over the following days. She had stopped visiting Elizabeth during the night, though this did not stop Elizabeth remaining in disguise just in case.

Throughout the workday, they snuck kisses in the laboratory while the shop was empty, and on numerous occasions Elizabeth found her hands underneath Merrill’s skirt. Their forbidden love, and limited time made for excellent foreplay.

Every evening when the shop was closed, Elizabeth found herself between Merrill’s thighs. Elizabeth loved doing it, and was getting quite good at it. It also distracted Merrill from the fact that Elizabeth would not make love to her in the way a man should. Countless times, Merrill tried to return the favor, insisting that she take Elias into her own mouth, but obviously Elizabeth always declined, for there was nothing to take.

When there was only a week left before Elias’ “departure” Merrill wanted to spend every waking moment together.  They lay in Elizabeth’s bed, holding one another.

Merrill cried a lot, and wished Elizabeth would stay. It took Elizabeth all of her strength not to weep along with her lover, though, of course she did not because that would not have been very manly of her. Elizabeth kept strong by reminding herself that she was not actually leaving, and she would still get to see Merrill while she was a woman.

It was a cold, windy Tuesday when everything came crashing down around Elizabeth. She left Merrill sleeping in bed that morning, thinking to escape to the apothecary rather early to complete some custom orders. She wore her usual shirt, vest, breeches, and shoes. After giving the wig a quick brush in the washroom, Elizabeth was ready to leave. She noticed that there was a rather large bruise upon her neck. Merrill had branded her again. She touched it lightly and smiled. The memories of the night before came flooding back, and Elizabeth felt instantly aroused. Yet there was no time to satisfy her urges. She needed to finish some work, for she had fallen quite behind lately. Having a love life did indeed put the apothecary in second place.

Elizabeth took the stairs two at a time, picked up her briefcase, umbrella, and hat at the door, and stepped outside into the chilly morning air.

She had barely taken two steps away from the house when a voice called out to her.

“You! What the devil are you doing in my house?” Elizabeth spun around to see who had called, for obviously there had been some kind of mistake, as this was
her
house. She turned to face the direction of the voice.

Thwack.

Elizabeth crumpled to the ground, holding her face in her hands, blinded by the immense pain. Someone had hit her.
Someone
had punched her right in the eye.

Elizabeth swore and rolled onto her back, lights blinking rapidly in front of her eyes. Everything was blurry. For one horrible moment she feared that she had indeed become blind from the blow. Yet things were slowly coming back into focus. It was such a pain that she had never felt before, but it did not end there.

“What. The.
Fuck
. Do. You.
Think
. You. Are.
Doing
. In. My.
House
!” Each word brought another blow to Elizabeth’s body. She cried, and flailed, trying to fight the attacker off. Somewhere deep in her mind she knew that this voice was familiar.
No, it could not be
, she thought dazedly. Again and again, the blows kept coming. Her ribs cracked and she spat blood.

“Where is my wife, you mongrel?” Elizabeth felt the front of her shirt being grabbed, “Is that her mark upon your neck?
IS IT
?”

And Elizabeth realized.

“George!” Elizabeth cried desperately, “George!”

The beating ceased.

Silence hung in the air. The only sound came from Elizabeth, who coughed and spat blood onto the pavement.

It was a wonder how George Greenwood managed to recognise Elizabeth through the swollen eye he had just given her, yet he said her name.

“El-Elizabeth?” He dropped his grip from her shirt and took a step back.

Tears streaked her face, and her whole body ached, yet she managed to nod.

“Christ,” she heard George mutter. He did not rush to her side, and did not ask if she was all right.

“Why are you dressed that way? What have you done to your hair?”

Yet Elizabeth did not have time to answer. She heard footsteps, a scream, and then someone threw themselves on top of her.

It was Merrill. She crouched over Elizabeth, still in her nightdress. The yells must have woken her.

“What have you done?” Merrill cried at Captain Greenwood, who stood back, watching.

“Merrill,
no
. Please, go inside,” Elizabeth muttered dazedly.  She tried to get up, yet the pain in her ribs was too much. She winced and remained on the ground.

“Mister Searson, are you all right?” Merrill tried to wipe the blood from Elizabeth’s face.

George stepped forward, and Merrill yelled at him, “Get back, sea dog!”

He ceased.

“What did you call … what did you call her?” George said, staring at Merrill.

“He did not call me
anything,
” Merrill said angrily to George.


No,
” George spat, pointing a finger at Elizabeth, “what did you call
her
?”

Utter dread pierced Elizabeth. She stared into the face of George, willing him to be silent. Pleading silently that he not speak another word. Yet it was too late.

“How dare you! This is Mister Searson!” Merrill said, anger flaring in her eyes, “a great man!”

George’s eyes traveled from Merrill’s tear-streaked face, to Elizabeth’s bloody, beaten, and swollen one. His eyes flickered downward to the bruise on Elizabeth’s neck. Understanding blossomed in his dark eyes.

“Did you give
Searson
that mark?” George pointed to Elizabeth.

Merrill looked to Elizabeth and then back to George, “What of it?” she hissed.

“So,” George said, “sweethearts, are you?”

Merrill did not answer, but tried to help Elizabeth to her feet.

Crossing his arms over his wide chest, George said, “This is how it is then? You know, I have heard of wives being unfaithful whilst their husbands are at sea, yet I have never heard of two women becoming lovers.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and hoped she might vanish from the spot. George was glaring at her with such animosity that she recoiled from his stare. Merrill looked between them, confused.

“You are mad,” she accused George. “
Mad
! They should lock you up before you hurt someone else!”

“You mean you do not know?” George turned to Elizabeth, “Is this a new hobby, my dear? Luring young women into your bed?”

Elizabeth did not speak.

“Well?” George waited.

“What is he talking about?” Merrill said, “Do you know him? Is he mad?”

“I know him,” Elizabeth whispered. She could feel blood oozing from her nostril, “He is not mad.”

Merrill did not understand. She did not yet comprehend the situation that she had walked in on.

“Are you not going to tell her?” George asked lightly. His voice was full of malice, “Do you not think she deserves to know? After all, she has been hoodwinked.”

“Stop it,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth.

“I guess I must be the one to break the poor girls heart. How old is she, my sweet? Sixteen? Seventeen? Quite a pretty thing too. You have good taste. I might like a taste for myself, if you are not opposed to sharing.”

He tried to grab Merrill’s arm, but she swatted him away, “Do not touch me!”

Elizabeth surged with anger, “Keep your hands off her.”

George’s eyes flashed. Elizabeth had never seen this look on his face before.

“You choose her, do you?” George glared.

Elizabeth wiped away the blood dripping down her lip with the back of her hand.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“So, tell her what you have done, or I will,” George said.

Elizabeth looked between them. They both stared at her, waiting. Her heart pounded, and she was drenched in sweat. Her mind screamed, D
o it, do it now
.
You must be the one to tell her, you must show her.
The truth could not come from Captain Greenwood.

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