The Miniaturists Desire Eliz

September 2018

The rain poured relentlessly outside, its soft patter against the windows echoing in the empty chapel. Eliz sat in one of the back pews, her shoulders hunched as she stared at the floor, lost in a sea of her own thoughts. It had been a rough day--one of many recently. She had done poorly on a test, despite studying for days. Her professors, strict and unforgiving, offered no comfort, no understanding.

She felt herself slipping further away from everything she had once known--her parents' expectations, the rigid rules of Bailey University, the constant pressure to be perfect. She had come to Bailey, a conservative religious university, in the first place because her parents insisted it was where she'd grow into a strong, faithful woman, but now, sitting alone in this cold, cavernous space, she wondered if they were wrong. Or if she was wrong.

She felt out of place. She pushed the boundaries a little like many college kids. She pushed a little more than most. When she was feeling down, which was too many days, she made herself feel better by dressing a little sexy. She was wearing a miniskirt and no panties. A strong gust of wind and her secret wouldn't be much of a secret anymore.

Eliz had always been a little different from the other students, and now, more than ever, that difference felt like a burden. She was homesick--longing for the comfort of her family, for the small town where everything was familiar. She felt isolated and adrift in this sea of expectations, trying to live up to the impossible standards around her.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about how far she'd drifted from the person she once thought she'd become. She sniffled quietly, trying to stifle the sobs threatening to break free. But there was no one around. The chapel, usually a place for reflection and prayer, felt like a vast and lonely space now. It was as if the walls were closing in on her, and she didn't know where to turn.

That's when she heard footsteps. Soft at first, and then louder as someone approached. Eliz wiped her eyes hastily, embarrassed to be seen crying in such a sacred place. She didn't want anyone to know how vulnerable she felt, how broken she was inside.

But the footsteps didn't stop. A figure appeared in the aisle--a woman with calm eyes and a gentle presence, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the chapel. Alex.

Alex, the wife of one of the ministers on campus. Eliz knew of her--everyone did. Alex was everything Eliz wasn't supposed to be. She was graceful, composed, the embodiment of the university's ideals. Alex had a quiet strength about her, a quiet understanding that made people feel seen.

Alex was beautiful in a way that seemed effortless, as though her every movement was poetry in motion. She was about eight years older than Eliz, with sharp, striking features framed by chestnut-brown hair that fell in soft waves just past her shoulders. Her hazel eyes, warm and piercing, seemed to look right through Eliz, as though she could see every hidden thought and unspoken word. Alex wore a proper pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse, the kind of outfit one might expect from the wife of a minister at Bailey University, but there was something undeniably sensual about her appearance. The skirt hugged her hips and legs with perfect precision, and the blouse, while modest in cut, clung to her figure in a way that emphasized every graceful curve. She had natural double D breasts that were stretching the fabric of her blouse and revealing her lace low cup bra between the gaps of the buttons.

Eliz felt a jolt of something unfamiliar and uncomfortable when she looked at her. It wasn't just admiration; it was a pull, a magnetic draw she couldn't explain. She noticed the way Alex's lips curved when she smiled, the way her slender fingers rested lightly on the pew. Eliz tried to suppress these thoughts, but the more she tried, the more aware she became of Alex--her beauty, her presence, her closeness.

A pang of guilt shot through Eliz as she caught herself staring too long. She had been taught her whole life that thoughts like these were sinful, that they would lead her away from righteousness. But the harder she tried to push them down, the more persistent they became. Her mind fixated on Alex's warmth, the way her presence felt like a balm to Eliz's loneliness. And with every passing moment, Eliz's internal conflict deepened. This was wrong, she told herself, but even as she thought it, her heart ached to be near Alex, to soak in the kindness and comfort she offered so freely.

Alex, noticing the young woman in the back pew, approached with quiet grace, her soft footsteps barely audible over the rain. She paused when she saw Eliz's tear-streaked face. There was no judgment in her eyes, only concern. Without a word, Alex sat beside Eliz, their legs touching side by side. Eliz could feel the warmth radiating from Alex, stirring her own warmth between her legs.

The silence hung between them for a long moment before Alex gently spoke.

"You don't have to be alone here," she said, her voice low and soothing. "I know this place can feel... overwhelming."

Eliz looked up, startled by the kindness in Alex's voice. It was so rare to find someone who didn't expect something from her, someone who wasn't pushing her to be better, to fit into the perfect mold the university demanded. She sniffled again, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater, feeling suddenly foolish.

"I'm just... so tired," Eliz whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Tired of trying to be everything they want me to be. I just don't know how to do it anymore."

Alex reached over, gently placing her arm around Eliz's shoulders and her other hand on Eliz's arm. "It's okay to feel that way. We're all allowed to have moments where we don't have the answers. You don't have to carry it alone."

Before Eliz could stop herself, the floodgates opened. The weight of everything she had been holding back--the loneliness, the confusion, the frustration--came pouring out in quiet sobs. She leaned over and buried her face on Alex's shoulder and into the nook of her neck. She felt utterly broken. She felt like a vulnerable child in a mother's loving embrace. The loving feeling confused her inside since she found Alex so attractive.

Without a word, Alex hugged her tightly, pulling her gently into a comforting embrace. Alex's hand shifted from caressing Eliz's arm down to her lap. Eliz's heart raced, she didn't pull away. She leaned into the affection, finding solace in the warmth of her body, in the quiet comfort she offered. The hand gently rubbing her upper leg, the tips of the fingers curled just slightly into her inner thigh lit a fire just inches away in her bare pussy. She could feel herself getting wet. Soon she would be dripping onto the pew.

It had been so long since anyone had cared for her this way--without expectation, without condition. She continued crying into Alex's shoulder, her tears dripping onto Alex's blouse.

Alex had always had a nurturing streak, a deep maternal instinct that made her want to comfort and care for those in need. She had seen it countless times during her five years as the minister's wife--a role she loved, despite the constant scrutiny and expectations that came with it.

But this was different. As she sat there in the quiet chapel, Alex was acutely aware of how beautiful Eliz was. The young woman's auburn hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, her delicate features damp with tears. Even in her sadness, Eliz exuded a raw, vulnerable beauty that tugged at something deep within Alex. She found herself drawn to Eliz in a way that went beyond compassion, a way that sent a flicker of both excitement and shame through her.

Alex had known she was bisexual since she was a teenager, but it was a secret she had buried so deeply she almost never thought about it anymore. She loved her husband, Dave, truly and deeply. He was kind, steadfast, and devoted to her in every way that mattered. Yet there was a part of her--a part she had forced herself to ignore--that longed for something she couldn't have. In the strict religious community of Bailey University, where appearances were everything, admitting such desires was unthinkable. Even the smallest hint of impropriety could shatter everything they had built.

And yet, here was Eliz, a student at the university, sitting beside her with tear-streaked cheeks and trembling shoulders. She was forbidden in every sense of the word--young, vulnerable, a woman, and under Alex's care in the eyes of the community. It should have made Alex recoil, but instead, it drew her in. The forbidden nature of it all only made the pull stronger, more irresistible.

Her heart ached with the desire to ease Eliz's pain, but it also raced with the awareness of just how close they were. She could feel the heat of Eliz's body against her own, the soft brush of her hair against Alex's cheek. It was intoxicating. Dangerous. She could smell the faint scent sex arousal juices, or was that just in her head?

As Eliz clung to her, Alex struggled to keep her thoughts in check. She couldn't afford to let her feelings show, couldn't let her heart betray the perfect image she and Dave had worked so hard to cultivate. And yet, as Eliz leaned into her, seeking solace and comfort, Alex couldn't help but hold her just a little tighter. She told herself it was purely out of kindness, but deep down, she knew better. Her hand lovingly caressing Alex's thigh started to arouse her. She subconsciously creeped it up her thigh and inwards. Oh how she wanted to slip it under her skirt. Alex's emotions were a confused mix of maternal nurture and intensifying sexual being.

"Shhh," Alex murmured softly, her voice low and steady as she tried to calm Eliz's sobs. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're not alone."

The endearment slipped out before she could stop it, and she immediately felt a pang of guilt for feeling aroused. But Eliz didn't seem to notice. Instead, she buried her face deeper into Alex's shoulder, her small, muffled voice breaking through the silence. "I just... I don't know what to do anymore."

Alex swallowed hard, her own emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "You don't have to do anything right now," she said gently. "Just let it out. I'm here for you." She caressed Eliz's hair, cradled her head and pulled her onto her breast like a mother would her child.

As the minutes ticked by, Alex's mind whirled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. She had to keep her distance, she reminded herself. She had to protect both of them from the storm that would surely follow if anyone knew how she truly felt. And yet, as she sat there in the stillness of the chapel, holding Eliz in her arms, she couldn't deny the undeniable connection that was forming between them--a connection that, no matter how wrong it might be, she couldn't bring herself to sever.

Unaware both were feeling similarly conflicting emotions. Through her tears, head resting on Alex's shoulders, facing downward Eliz saw nothing but Alex's firm swelling breasts in front of her. She saw the points of her nipples pushing through fabric. She felt Alex's gentle squeeze pushing her head down to her breasts and she willingly went with it, resting on Alex's breasts like a shelf. In the same motion she adjusted her hips and schooched forward trying to will those fingers on her thigh to touch her wetness. Alex's nipple was now a lick away from Eliz's mouth.

When Eliz shifted Alex's fingertips briefly slipped under her skirt. It felt like a few strands of soft damp hair. Or was that her imagination? Stop that! She scolded herself and deftly restored her hand to just outside the skirt.

More minutes ticked by. Perhaps too long to be natural but neither wanted to break their embrace. Eliz hadn't realized how badly she needed someone to care, to show her tenderness without trying to fix her. It also reminded her that she also hungered for the physical embrace of someone who wanted to touch her all over.

"I'm sorry," Eliz whispered, her voice hoarse. "I don't know why I'm like this."

Alex smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair from Eliz's face. "You don't need to apologize. Sometimes, we just need to feel heard. And you are. I'm here, Eliz."

It was that simple kindness and the alluring tone of her voice that began to unravel something deep inside Eliz. Eliz couldn't stand it anymore. In a moment of uncontrollable instinct and desire, she put her hand on top of Alex's and moved it an inch up and under her skirt. Not far enough to touch her lips, but unmistakable in her intent.

Without thinking, Alex responded with another inch, and one finger now rested on the nub of her clit.

Both women sharply inhaled and held their breath waiting for the other to object. Then Eliz squeezed Alex's invading hand. Alex responded by stroking the nub at her fingertips, evoking a moan from Eliz and a shudder that shook her entire body.

Although they were the only two in the chapel they froze in place as best they could, too scared to move and reveal what was happening. Except that rubbing continued. Eliz's pussy was on fired. It hungered to be violated completely but just the finger tips teased her and drove her wild. She started rocking her hips. She tried to press Alex's hand into her, but Alex resisted.

Alex's maternal disposition was giving way to her suppressed Dom curious side. This is a side that she knew she always had but never explored. From comfort and caring to controlling and caring. Alex felt a taboo urge to make Eliz beg for release. She continued to rub her clit and pinch it with her thumb and finger until Eliz's rocking hips became involuntary mini thrusts. She rimmed the opening of her vagina with her back fingers. Short small moans became a prolonged guttural hum. The mini thrusts became long clenched pelvic thrusts that almost slid Eliz off the front of the seat. The sounds of the creaking pew now echoed in the empty chapel. If anyone was in the chapel there was no mistaking what was happening.

Eliz was building up to go over the edge when the fingers pulled away. Her hips rammed forward to reconnect. She desperately grabbed at Alex's hand and shoved it back between her legs, but the fingers laid there motionless on her mound. She whimpered. The frantic hunger excited Alex. Her nipples, previously created a small ripple on her shirt now pushed through like a metal thimble. She was sure she was as wet now as she felt on Eliz. The smell of her fluids, the sexual hunger Eliz exuded, and the power she felt started her craving release too.

Alex's fingers reawakened and circled the engorged clit. Teasing it, brushing against it. Eliz was crazy with the need to cum. She squirmed her hips around following where the fingers went, begging for them to return. Finally Alex relented. She fingered the rock hard clit while her middle finger danced just inside her opening. "Don't stop. Please. Please. Please. Don't Stop." Although Alex didn't stop, she made only the smallest of movements. Enough to stimulate and keep Eliz on the edge, not enough to throw her over. Alex needed to cum to. This was edging her as much as it was edging Eliz. In a move with almost frantic urgency, Alex hiked up her own skirt and ripped her panties down to her knees and dropped them to her ankles. Alex grabbed Eliz's hand and roughly thrusted it under her skirt, mentally commanding Eliz to rub finger fuck her too. Alex returned her fingers to their original spot on Eliz's snatch. Their fingers started moving in unison with each other. Their hips responded in kind and vibrated in sync. They came up to the edge together and over. Eliz muffled her scream into Alex's ample breasts. Alex muffled her groan in Alex's hair. They squeezed each other for convulsion after convulsion for over a minute before it finally started to subside.

When the primal instincts from all the rushing hormones finally subsided, both women realized what they had done, in the middle of the holy chapel. They didn't even know each other. They had never had a conversation before today. With a mix of embarrassment and guilt, both rushed out in different exits without saying another word.

==

The next few days were a blur. Eliz began to find herself drawn back to the chapel at odd hours, hoping to see Alex. And sure enough, the next time she walked into the chapel, there was Alex, sitting in a pew near the front, her eyes closed in quiet contemplation.

Alex looked up when Eliz entered and smiled warmly. "I was hoping to see you again."

The words felt like a lifeline, a sign that maybe, just maybe, Eliz wasn't as invisible as she had felt all her life. Slowly, over the next few weeks, they began to connect more and more, spending time together in the chapel. Talking and sharing. They avoided touching each other like the first day. In fact they avoided talking about that day for the guilt that weighed on both of their minds. What began as shared moments of quiet reflection and solace grew into conversations about life, faith, and the pressures they both faced.

Eliz found herself looking forward to those moments, to the way Alex's presence made her feel seen in a way no one else had. And Alex, for her part, began to drop by the chapel more often, making sure she was there when Eliz arrived.

It wasn't long before the two women began to talk more openly--about their lives, their struggles, and eventually, the budding connection between them. Alex's kindness was something Eliz couldn't ignore. It was something more than friendship. It was more than the physicality of that first day. It was something neither of them had expected but both felt pulling them together.

And thus began their secret meetings--small moments, stolen in the quiet sanctuary of the chapel, where the world outside seemed far away, and the two of them could simply exist together. It was in these moments that Eliz's heart began to change, that her walls, built over years of feeling disconnected, started to crack. It was the turning point of her accepting her own sexuality.

But even as their bond grew stronger, Eliz knew that their relationship could never be fully free. Bailey University was a place of strict morality, and anything outside of the prescribed ideals was dangerous. Their connection, though real and undeniable, had to remain a secret, hidden beneath layers of silence and stolen moments.

And still, despite the growing tension, neither of them could resist the pull.

The chapel became their haven, a place where time slowed, and the weight of expectations faded into the background. Eliz would arrive first, slipping into a pew as if she were there to pray. Sometimes she would kneel, hands clasped in front of her, staring blankly at the altar. Other times, she'd sit, her heart racing with anticipation. She didn't have to wait long. Alex always followed, her footsteps soft but purposeful, her figure poised yet filled with a quiet urgency.

Alex had never been one to linger in the chapel before meeting Eliz. It was a space she visited out of duty, accompanying her husband during services or leading women's study groups. But now, it had become something entirely different--intimate and sacred in a way she hadn't anticipated. Every time she stepped through the doors, her eyes immediately searched for Eliz, her pulse quickening when she found her waiting.

One evening, as the last light of day filtered through the stained-glass windows, Eliz was standing by the altar, her head bowed. All the services of the day were long finished. Alex approached quietly, her footsteps echoing softly in the empty chapel.

"Eliz," Alex said gently, her voice pulling the younger woman from her thoughts.

Eliz turned, her eyes locking onto Alex's. The way Alex looked at her--tender, caring, and something more--made her heart race. Without thinking, Eliz stepped closer.