***Author's Note***
This story is a companion piece to my earlier story "A Time-Traveler's Lust" and any stories in the "A Time-Traveler" series.
You don't have to read those to understand this story. They are all meant to make sense individually, as well as together.
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Victorian London: A rat-and-smog-filled show of human ingenuity, and perhaps a trickster god's experiment in entropy.
These were the early times of humans learning how to immortalise themselves through hazy and speckled, colourless photography. How to speak into an object and hear someone houses away.
A time where the rich traded in horse power for steam, and the poor traded fingers and breathable lungs for a sliver of however many shillings it'd take to feed their eight starving children.
Lee was eternally grateful 38th century medicine and technology made sure she didn't get or give diseases, and when she wanted, poor scents could be covered by better ones. Even more grateful to have such a useful device as her automatic translator.
In spite of its faults, or perhaps in part because of them, she loved to visit. It was one of her favourite places. It also happened to be where her frequent rival and lover was from, but she wasn't there for him that day.
Apparently, she was there to clean.
'Good morning! It's always good to have more help.'
A pale-and-clearly-relieved brunette welcomed Lee into one of the many guest bedrooms she was to sweep and sort, and whatever else. All before the master of the lavish estate returned from his work or possible prostitute-fucking, if the whispers are to be believed.
'Yes, good morning,' Lee smiled bright.
The two women wore long, maid's dresses, and light bonnets - a stark contrast against Lee's tight, dark curls, and glowing caramel skin. The maid was tall and a little on the thick side, like the goddess of a Renaissance painting.
They'd been feathering at shelves and drawers when the light woman gave the smallest gasp. 'Ooh, pray do forgive me. I've forgotten to ask your name.'
'I'm Lee.'
'Splendid,' she smiled, 'and your surname?'
'Lee. My name is Bahiti Lee.'
'How exotic,' the maid replied, 'I assumed you were simply mulatto, but perhaps you're of the Ottoman Empire? Master Snow does have a fondness for Turks.'
Lee raised a brow.
'Oh, I-' the other woman chuckled softly, pale face now coloured a pomegranate hue, 'I only mean to say that you're very beautiful.'
Lee puffed the smallest laugh through her nose, 'thank you. You're also... very beautiful.'
The two locked eyes, the maid's shimmering cerulean meeting the depths of Lee's dark chocolate.
Lee slipped, ever so slightly, into a silkier tone. 'And what is your name?'
'Ester Percy.'
'Ester.' Lee spoke softly, as though only to feel the name upon her tongue.
There wasn't a head's length between them. Perhaps there never had been.
Ester made small glances upon Lee's lips, and back again at her eyes. Shallow breaths escaped her, however quietly. Soft breathing on Lee's skin.
Noses gently touched. Breathing slowed.
A kiss. Another.
The rushed removal of Victorian garments, of which there seemed all-too-many layers, though Ester's had far more than Lee, who'd opted for basic aesthetics with little beneath.
If Ester noticed, she didn't mention.
She only traced kisses upon Lee's bare flesh, looking up to her dark eyes as Ester's soft lips caressed Lee's breasts.
Lee made the faintest hmms. Nipples hardening. Her sex wet with lust.
She led Ester up to her, meeting her mouth, kissing her neck, her collarbone, and back up.
Lee kept kissing upon Ester's flesh, trailing down a little further than before, going back up to Ester's sweet face, then trailing down further still.
Ester giggled, running delicate fingers through Lee's curls.
The curvaceous caramel woman took the light woman's hands in hers, guiding her to the nearby bed.
