sorry yall liking old old OLD smut fics is so funny to me. i dont think my smut fics have gotten any better but like some of them are BAD and yall still be liking them 😂 ty for the support. pls read the newer ones too so u think i’ve gotten better over the years.
Summary: Bertha is stressed planning a last-minute ball for Mrs. Astor and needs to fill her need for George between her legs that has been growing for weeks.
a/n: she wrote something that isn't wlw?! what?! yes. yes I did. do not fret. there will be mostly wlw. i just had to write something for my two little idiots.
It was sweltering outside on the June day. The breeze barely whispered through the open windows of the cottage. Bertha sipped on iced tea as she watched the water crashing on the rocks outside her window. She’d not had a moment to sit since preparations continued that morning for the weekend’s ball. There were workers everywhere, moving plants and furniture around. Having to redo table settings and arrangements because Bertha wanted them to be perfect. She thought she ought to rest some as they were only halfway through, with only two days to go.
“Mother, Gladys, and I are heading out to meet with the others.”
She glared at the boy, her cup barely landing on the saucer. He was an adult now, she knew that. But his coming and goings were never at a good time. They had a ball with over 300 people attending in two days. She didn’t have time for him to leave like this.
“Am I to do everything around the house this week?”
She stood with a huff, straightening her blue satin dress. She knew she wanted things done a certain way, which meant she needed to oversee every detail. But having help to get it done would be nice.
“I’m sorry, we had planned this outing before you agreed to throw this ball. We will be back in a few hours. Is there anything we can get while we are out?”
“No,” she threw her gloves onto the chair she was sitting in, “I will figure it out myself. Where is your father?” She left no emotion in her voice for either of them. She didn’t have the energy.
“I believe he is upstairs taking a nap. He said he was not feeling well.”
“Of course. Why would he be when we have so much to do?” Her hand cupped her forehead as she began going through her list of things that needed to be done today. “Be back before five. One of your father’s business partners will be joining us tonight. Gladys, if you refuse to wear the red dress this weekend, then go and ask Francis to get you one you will wear. She knows what I accept, and the dress needs to be fitted immediately.”
“Yes, mother.”
Her children leaned in to kiss her cheek before leaving for their cab. She missed the days when they were younger. When they begged her to play with them. Or when she would find them in the kitchen helping with dessert and their main dish. When they wore what she put them in and didn’t make a fuss about it. The days when they were always home.
She’d thought about having another before. But as she and Mr. Russell grew older, their business and status grew with them. There was so little time in the day now. They could barely find time to have a kiss here or a touch there. Let alone the idea of having another child.
What she missed was the closeness with her family. Her husband, who only showed affection when he was on top of the world. When she wanted a moment with him, she was pushed away. If he were in his office, she knew she would go to bed without seeing him that evening. She had gone so many nights alone with her core and the pulse between her legs growing out of need. She wanted to release her stress. She wanted a release. And she wanted to see her husband.
“I’m going upstairs. I think I need to rest. Please keep this running smoothly,” she said to Mrs. Bruce, who walked in with a notepad and a group of workers.
“Shall we send your lady’s maid up?”
“No, she’s new. Please continue to train her. I will be fine for the time being.”
Mrs. Bruce nodded before leaving her. Church began to delegate while side eyeing the Mistress rising the stairs, a rarity for her to take such a break. But she could hear them barking orders and taking the lead. She was always happy and grateful she had competent people like them.
As she ascended, that feeling in the pit of her stomach grew with every step. It didn’t help that, as Larry and Gladys walked off, she began to think of her husband alone in his bed. She walked through the hallway, slowing as she got to his room. Maybe if she walked past and forced her way into her bedroom, it would go away. The heat in her cheeks would cool, and she would be able to take a deep breath within her corset again. She wished she knew how to douse the fire that grew between her legs as she walked further and further away from George’s door. The ache was almost painful; that was how long it had been for her.
It wasn’t until her hand gripped her door handle that she couldn’t let herself go any further. Her pulse quickened, her breath faltered, her balance swayed. Suddenly, her feet were running across the carpeted floors back to George’s bedroom.
“Bertha?” His voice rumbled and was almost stuck in his throat as he rolled over to see her entering the room.
“George,” she hummed, shutting the door and locking it. He drearily watched her as she crossed the floor to the bed. She tried to walk with a sway in her hips while keeping her heels from being too loud on the floor. “George, I am very stressed by this ball.”
“You should have said no to Mrs. Astor then.”
She glared. How dare he say something like that? What she really wanted was for him to show her sympathy. Make her feel better.
“One day you will have to stand up for yourself, dear.” He sat up, pushing a pillow behind his back against the headboard, not noticing the dramatic pout on his wife’s lips. He wouldn’t be finishing his nap any time soon, if at all.
“Well…,” she whined, almost childlike. “Until I do…might you help me…,” she sat next to him on the edge of the bed, her hand wrapping around the curve of his jaw, “…release some stress?”
“Oh, my dear, are you that stressed?”
His hand began to run up and down her arm as she leaned on it beside his waist on the bed. Her other hand ran through the curls by his ear. Twisting one around her pointer finger before pulling it between her knuckles. She let out a soft, sweet hum before moving further next to him. She chose to slide onto the bed, where there were mere inches before the edge. It meant he was forced to hold her around her waist as he moved to give her more space.
The dark tone in his voice was something she lusted over. It was rich. It was rugged. It was confident. She knew the voice he used when he was aroused. She was lucky that he was on board today.
She was almost embarrassed at how much she needed to feel him inside of her. They hadn’t been together like this in weeks. Her hunger for his touch grew every time he caught her in the doorway for a kiss. It was strong that morning when he grabbed at her skirts and bunched them up against her stomach, his body pressing harshly against her corset. How she whispered, “I need you,” and he smiled before turning away into his office. It only made her want him more.
It had been a while, but he was still quick with buttons. Her corset and skirt were strewn across the floor, with only some care leaving her in her undergarments. The heat had not ceased its beating down on the house, and she could feel the glimmer of sweat on her forehead.
“Please be faster, it is hot.” She groaned, wanting to be free of the fabric that clung to her. He gave a small cholt before stripping her of the rest of her attire.
His eyes were trained on hers as she mounted him, pushing the sheets towards the end of the bed. He’d not seen such a fire in her eyes. As tired as he was, he did welcome the soft rocking of his wife’s hips against him.
She hadn’t waited to remove his clothes before beginning to chase her high. It wouldn’t take long; he could wait. And she was desperate. She smiled, feeling him harden beneath her. Her head began to buzz just thinking of the sounds she would pull from him. Her breasts rose and fell as she took a deep breath, her eyes closing as she allowed her body to melt.
His warm and firm hands rested on her hip bones as he pulled her to and fro. She liked seeing his muscles flex a little. The way he clinched his jaw, trying to maneuver himself to feel her weight more on him.
“Oh, George, you’re hard as a rock,” she joked, biting her bottom lip and leaning her hand against his chest. She rocked harder onto him, pressing her center harshly against his clothed cock. She didn't care much if he got his high. Or if he became naked at all. She wanted him to help her. That was all. His pleasure was merely a bonus.
One of his hands pushed its way beneath her, and he groaned, feeling how wet she was. His mouth watered watching her jolt from the touch, her breasts shaking from the initial shock. Her eyes were shut as he took over, his fingers beginning to inch their way into her slick. His other free hand moved to hold one of her dangling breasts within it. They were in front of his face. He couldn’t just leave them alone.
He pinched her nipple between his fingers, rolling and squeezing at it, bringing coos and soft moans to Bertha’s lips. She thought she would torture him this way. Leave him clothed and unable to do anything about it while she gets her orgasm again and again. But she needed him within her. To feel him against her walls and how he filled her deeply.
As though she was shocked by electricity, she bolted up and quickly opened his pants, giving her easy access. She was likely dripping enough for an easy entry, but she was nice and allowed him to run his hand full of her against himself. He groaned and grunted, watching her baby doll eyes look at him. She bit her lip as her hands began to roam her body.
She squeezed her breasts, closing her eyes and letting out a deep moan. She could feel the length of her hair cascading down her back and wished she had kept it up because of the heat. But he loved seeing her hair down. It was sexier than up with pins, combs, and curls. It was just long enough to hit the lowest of her back, and she almost enjoyed the feeling. It meant she was free.
“George,” she gasped, watching him slowly build. He wasn’t the most vocal in bed. That was her job. Whether it was from true pleasure or a presentation for his sake, he never knew. He didn't really care.
Her hands moved further down her body, running over her stomach and then her thighs that pancaked out from sitting on her knees. She pushed her knees open, allowing her husband a slight view of what her hand was doing. He only saw down to her wrist, but he could feel it in his core. The feeling that grew within her. What her fingers felt as they swiped through her folds and hit her clit in a way that made her gasp and moan at the surprise of sensation. He was slow and wanted to make sure he waited for her. Bertha, on the other hand, allowed her middle and ring fingers to slide easily into herself.
“Oh- God-,” she gasped. He watched as her chest filled with air before she steadied her breath. She rarely, if ever, touched herself alone. How terrible a habit that was. Women were not to give themselves pleasure without their husbands. It was as taboo as kissing another woman. Bertha had done both, but only once. And a long time ago. (Not at the same time.)
She allowed herself to pant and give him a show as she began to rock against her hand. Her clit pressed harshly against the heel of her hand, and she groaned. She threw her head back, mouth agape. That feeling of her abs contracting and the way she held her breath were bad habits of hers. She could feel her cheeks burning and how tightly her eyes shut. George could see how close she was. He knew her tells.
“Come to me, Mrs. Russell.”
She opened her eyes at the name to see him hard and erect. George was never too harsh or possessive in bed unless Bertha asked him to be. But his calling her “Mrs. Russell” was enough for him to call her his own. And of course, she almost always required the name. She didn’t like the idea of being owned by a man. She never would. But being loyal to your husband was something she prided herself on. George was never one to show off his wife to the public. If anything, Bertha showed him off more. But in the bedroom? In the bedroom, she was his, and only his.
She was quick to guide him into her as she sat upon him. The sound they made in unison was enough for both of them to release. Bertha gripped the hair that covered George’s chest while her mouth dropped open. She was slow as she lowered herself flush against his pelvis. The feeling of him pressing deep within her almost pushed the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t help but pant for air as she allowed herself to become familiar with his girth. When she was finally down and filled to the brim, she sat there for a second. She was a lucky woman; she never denied that.
“Oh god-“ she huffed. She moaned and groaned as he began to move his hips gently. She knew she had to move as well but she was so overcome by the feeling she froze. He let out low grunts as he rocked harder. His hands gripping her ass in hopes she would join him. She almost couldn’t breathe. And she tried to keep her sounds as quiet as possible. If they were alone she would scream and groan for the animals in the forest to hear.
“No- George please," her eyes were still closed, her brows knitted together. He stopped his movement and allowed her a second. What she wanted was to lower where she was in her climb. She wanted to hold out for another few minutes before spilling over. She was dangerously close.
“You’re beautiful, Mrs. Russell.”
She smiled, gazing into his eyes before leaning over to kiss him. Her lids were heavy as she tried to center herself. He waited only another second for her before he began to gently buck his hips. She leaned over for a kiss and bit his lip by accident while she moaned loudly, not expecting him to begin again. She knew she was hungry, but she didn’t know she was this hungry. Ravenous almost.
“George-,” she gasped, her forehead pressing against his. Her hot breath mixed with his as he grunted from his exertion. “Oh- God, George, I’m- please…hard-er.”
She kissed him to keep her moans at a lower decibel. He was animalistic with his grunts and he couldn’t help but push her hips higher so he could thrust harder into her.
“OH- GEORGE-”
He picked her up and shoved her onto the bed face down. She let out a laugh before squealing as he pulled her hips up into the air. His hand wrapped around her waist to circle her clit as he entered her again. This was the view he loved. Her head shoved into the sheets to muffle her screams. Her breasts rocking back and forth from his hips slamming into her. He tried to watch for as long as he could but his eyes squeezed shut as he felt his cock painfully pulse within her.
She gripped the sheets and screamed harshly enough to ruin her throat. One last thrust within her and she was allowed her orgasm. Tears came to her eyes. She needed this more than she thought she did. She secretly hoped that he was giving her another. He filled her so full that they both dripped into the sheets as it spilled over. Her entire body jerked and spasmed before she crashed beneath him. Her moans only briefly turned into sobs as she collapsed. He was gentle as he came down. He lay on top of her, his arms and legs keeping some of his weight off of her. His lips kissed her neck and her shoulders as he heard muffled cries.
“Are you alright, my love?”
She shook her head, still shoved into the white sheets.
“Hmm?” he hummed, his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. He knew to be sweet after a session like that. He knew not to pull out until she was ready. He knew to be soft and kiss her neck and shoulders. To speak softly and in a tone that wasn’t belittling. To wait for her.
Her breathing steadied. Her whimpers ceased.
“Thank you.”
“I love you.”
“Come, lie down.”
This was a part of their evening she loved as well. Her husband may be rough at first. But he knew how to take care of her. He knew how to be soft, and he knew how to bring her to another orgasm that left her happy and fulfilled after something as harsh as he was before.
She gasped and let out a sigh as he released himself from her. She didn’t like how long it took for her to turn over and for his tongue to find its way to her center. She was so sensitive, and she knew she wanted another high for herself. She needed a nap, and she wanted to expend the rest of her energy before dinner. This was the best way to do it.
“Mmm, I love- oh-” she huffed. She didn’t know how she was so lucky to be with a man like this. She was slightly surprised they didn’t have more children, considering how often they did this. Was it her? Was it because she was always so stressed? Is that why their marital duties were often but never successful?
“Stop thinking, hm?” he hummed. “I can see your mind spinning. Just relax into me.”
He was gentle. He was slow. His fingers were soft as they entered her, and he said sweet nothings in hopes she would release one more time. It took a bit of convincing. But she felt her back arching and her toes beginning to grip the sheets after a while. Her breathing labored as she watched him between her legs. His eyes gazed up at her with no retreat.
“George-” she sighed. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I- oh- GOD don’t stop- please.”
She begged him to let her come. She begged for more. She begged for another finger to stretch within her. She gripped his hair and pushed him deeper within her legs. Her body shivered as she began to pulse. Her abs contracted, and his mouth filled with her juices as she squirted against his lips. He gave a gentle laugh in his low tone as he watched his wife lose herself in the feeling.
When she finally came back to earth, she smiled and cooed.
“Thank you.”
“Did I help in the way you wanted me to, Mrs. Russell?”
“You did, my love. Thank you.”
He gently kissed up her torso to her lips before lying next to her. It wasn’t long before she was fast asleep in his bed. With her lack of clothing and the gentle breeze coming from the window, she was finally relaxed enough to drift away.
“I’d do anything for you. I love you,” he whispered into her ear. She was asleep, he knew. But she would hear it in her subconscious. That was all she needed for the day.
He’d wake her up when she needed to wash up and begin to dress for dinner. He'd let their guests know that she was behind because of ball planning, and she was incredibly busy if she was late. He'd carry her in a blanket to her room and dress her in her sleep clothes so her ladiesmaid could dress her without raising questions about her being in his room. He was a good husband. He prided himself on that. And she did too.
I’m devastated that I stopped writing this half way through because I fell asleep. Like what was i writing. WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT DID AURORA DO?! I LITERALLY COULDN’T TELL YOU. I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT INSPIRED ME TO START THIS.
“I want to go home.”
She looked into blue eyes that were heavy. She didn’t know what else to do. What else to say.
“I don’t know how we would do that. You heard them when they said-“
“I KNOW what they said. YOU let me fucking do it.”
Aurora stepped back. She pushed her hair behind her ear and turned away from this woman who she didn’t recognize anymore. A view overlooking Central Park met her with the sun setting.
“Aurora- I can’t do this anymore. I miss my kids, I miss George. I- I never got to see Larry get married. We never saw- I-“
She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to rip her clothes off because of how suffocating they felt.
They never should have gotten in that stupid time machine. Why would they trust some nut from Nebraska? They’d read the papers. Aurora Fane lived a long healthy life. As did Bertha Russell. That timeline went on without them. But they both remembered everything up until they sat in that chair. They remembered saying goodbye with a smile because they didn’t believe it was real to begin with. They said they would find their way back into the lives they were living. They wouldn’t be gone for long.
It had been ten years. Ten years of learning about society in the 21st century. Ten years of lying to people they’d met. Of trying to surface any memory after the machine. Of trying to figure out how to get back.
Aurora’s shoulders shook as she cried. Bertha watched.
“I hate you.” It was through gritted teeth. It was low. It was dark.
“You- you don’t mean that,” Aurora spun around quickly.
“I do. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We aren’t supposed to be here.”
“What did you think was going to happen?!” Aurora yelled. She felt it scratch her throat.
“NOTHING.”
Truthfully, neither of them thought it would work. And if it did, they thought that they’d be able to use the same mechanism again to get back. Articles stated after their attempt when it didn’t seem like anything happened, the scientist junked the idea. But out of caution he burned it. And he never shared the blueprints. They would never be able to recreate the time machine. They would not be going back.
“Bertha, I’m sorry. But- you- you like me believed the same thing. You knew there was a possibility we would end up somewhere else. You knew-“
“But I can feel them. I could feel when Gladys was in labor and I wasn’t there. I could feel when Larry and Marian married. I could feel when you-“
She cut herself off.
“When I what?” Aurora’s words were pointed.
“You know what you did. I can tell, you felt it too.”
“I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know why I
WHAT DID SHE DO. I DONT KNOW. I DONT REMEMBER WHT I WAS GOING TO HAVE HER DO.
someone explain to me why i am the one that pours energy into people i think are friends yet it i not reciprocated. But i cant ask why of the 30 40 50 posts they reshared on their story why my story tag was not shared. why was i not told about this but our other friends were. why am i the one on the edge of the group when i am the one who is out here publicly celebrating and making sure your names are in the right mouths and bla bla bla bla bla. like why has that been the story of my life for idk how long. and it’s not even that i think i’m not a friend it’s the fact that my friends are lovely talented people and fans work get shared. but. mine doesnt? am i less than a fan or like what is the deal? am i the annoying friend who is a fan??? dont u want ur friends…….to be fans?????
im sure my search engine is confused because i will be out here searching landmarks of the gilded age but then also asking when fuck was first used to confirm whether one would actually use that word during or to talk about sex during that time too. but then im also asking which conjunctions were used because i always feel like scripts don’t usually use them but like- they were used. just not as often as we use them now.
I’m devastated that I stopped writing this half way through because I fell asleep. Like what was i writing. WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT DID AURORA DO?! I LITERALLY COULDN’T TELL YOU. I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT INSPIRED ME TO START THIS.
“I want to go home.”
She looked into blue eyes that were heavy. She didn’t know what else to do. What else to say.
“I don’t know how we would do that. You heard them when they said-“
“I KNOW what they said. YOU let me fucking do it.”
Aurora stepped back. She pushed her hair behind her ear and turned away from this woman who she didn’t recognize anymore. A view overlooking Central Park met her with the sun setting.
“Aurora- I can’t do this anymore. I miss my kids, I miss George. I- I never got to see Larry get married. We never saw- I-“
She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to rip her clothes off because of how suffocating they felt.
They never should have gotten in that stupid time machine. Why would they trust some nut from Nebraska? They’d read the papers. Aurora Fane lived a long healthy life. As did Bertha Russell. That timeline went on without them. But they both remembered everything up until they sat in that chair. They remembered saying goodbye with a smile because they didn’t believe it was real to begin with. They said they would find their way back into the lives they were living. They wouldn’t be gone for long.
It had been ten years. Ten years of learning about society in the 21st century. Ten years of lying to people they’d met. Of trying to surface any memory after the machine. Of trying to figure out how to get back.
Aurora’s shoulders shook as she cried. Bertha watched.
“I hate you.” It was through gritted teeth. It was low. It was dark.
“You- you don’t mean that,” Aurora spun around quickly.
“I do. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We aren’t supposed to be here.”
“What did you think was going to happen?!” Aurora yelled. She felt it scratch her throat.
“NOTHING.”
Truthfully, neither of them thought it would work. And if it did, they thought that they’d be able to use the same mechanism again to get back. Articles stated after their attempt when it didn’t seem like anything happened, the scientist junked the idea. But out of caution he burned it. And he never shared the blueprints. They would never be able to recreate the time machine. They would not be going back.
“Bertha, I’m sorry. But- you- you like me believed the same thing. You knew there was a possibility we would end up somewhere else. You knew-“
“But I can feel them. I could feel when Gladys was in labor and I wasn’t there. I could feel when Larry and Marian married. I could feel when you-“
She cut herself off.
“When I what?” Aurora’s words were pointed.
“You know what you did. I can tell, you felt it too.”
“I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know why I
WHAT DID SHE DO. I DONT KNOW. I DONT REMEMBER WHT I WAS GOING TO HAVE HER DO.
Aurora/Bertha smut after Bertha stood up for Aurora at Mamie's. Bertha was also going through it with George at that point, so some joint hurt/comfort would be good.
just for tonight.
Summary: Bertha puts her neck out for Aurora at Mamie's. Next thing she knows, she's begging to hear her name moaned from the woman's lips.
Warnings: Angstyish, some comfort, but mostly smmmut, NSFW, 18+, oral, fingering, forbidden love
A/n: she's long. had to get that pre stuff in before we got to it. i think it is a little clunky but, it gets prompt done. so. i'll take it.
Mamie had assumed Aurora would not be attending her luncheon in Newport. Especially after the divorce being splashed across the papers. She wouldn’t have if she’d gone through a divorce that became public conversation. Aurora didn’t think about the fact that she was Mrs. Charles Fane when the invitations went out. In fact, it wasn’t until she began to be avoided like the plague when walking through the house did she realize why she shouldn’t have attended.
The walk of shame leaving the luncheon was dreadful. Aurora was seconds away from tears as she and Marian left for the cab. She wanted to yell. She wanted to ask the women why they were as cruel as he was. Frankly, she wanted to be alone. But Marian was nice to accompany her back to her house. And it was kind of Bertha to volunteer her leave with Aurora after the scuffle. She almost wished Bertha stayed true to her words. But she wasn’t going to bring her down with her. There was no point in that.
She hadn’t noticed Bertha watching them leave. It was kind of her to threaten her appearance. Aurora wasn’t sure if she would have gone through with it. But she knew she’d never find out. Mamie would have done anything to keep her there. Aurora wouldn’t stay where she wasn’t welcome. Especially not because of pity or a trade of a guest.
The luncheon went on as planned. Bertha sat at the table as the guest of honor. She smiled, she laughed, she made comments about liberal topics that the others seemed to question. But in truth, she was only half there.
She had George on her mind. How they had argued and how distant he had been. His vague threats of leaving but not divorcing loomed over her head. She had made a good choice in introducing Hector and Gladys. George just didn’t understand. But that mattered not. They would never see eye to eye on that. On their only daughter.
She also had Aurora on her mind. How awful she felt, watching the woman leave after all the time she had spent getting ready. She had wished Marian had stayed, and she went with Aurora. If they weren’t going to accept Aurora at the table, then Bertha did not feel fulfilled by the event. It made her uneasy. It made her think about the people she surrounded herself with. None of these women would get her higher up in society. Though they kept her where she was. But one misstep and she’d be knocked to the ground as quickly as they did Aurora.
She wished to see Aurora’s blue eyes on the other end of the table. Aurora was one of the first to show her around. She knew it was begrudgingly. And she knew that George had given an ultimatum. A friendship made on money. But how else does one make a friend these days?
“Ladies, shall we move to the parlor?” Mamie stood.
“I’m afraid I must be off, but thank you for having me. I hope to see you at Lena’s end-of-the-season ball?”
“Leave? Now? We’ve only just started the afternoon.”
Bertha gripped the gloves that she prepared to put on. She did what was asked. She had lunch. And now she was done.
“I have stayed for your lunch. But your character showed flaws today. I hope next time you will allow my friends to stay. I would hate to lose touch with you, Mrs. Fish.” She whispered not to make another scene at the door.
“Well, I-“
“I will see you at the end of the season. Or I’m sure at another luncheon soon.” Bertha turned to the rest of the party. “I apologize, ladies, I am beginning to feel unwell. I think my lack of sleep has caught up with me.”
Mamie nodded her head in defeat and turned to usher the women out of the dining room. They said their goodbyes to Bertha, and she slipped out to a cab.
-
“Thank you for staying and dining with me.”
Aurora sipped a cold cup of tea in her quiet cottage with Marian.
“I enjoy it, Aurora. I’m sorry, this is what has happened.”
“Me too.”
The two sat in silence for a moment. The sound of cabs on the gravel passed by, and the seagulls flew by with their cries.
“I feel rather tired, I think I may go lie down. Will you be home tomorrow when I stop by?”
Aurora was lying, saying she was tired. She was, emotionally. But she wanted to find a way to politely ask Marian to leave. Marian could see the sadness in Aurora’s eyes. They had been that way for months. She grieved for her cousin. The loss of the life she knew. The life she had built for herself.
“I may. I had plans on meeting with Miss Peggy, but that won’t be until later in the day.”
The two hugged as Marian exited towards the front door.
“Be well, Aurora.”
“I will. Eventually.”
Aurora watched her leave before retiring to her drawing room. The tea and food had been taken away. She kicked off her shoes, leaving them trailing through the room. She wanted to undress and wear something less constraining. She wanted to rest somehow. She wanted to feel lighter and to forget why she was there. She knew her cases of clothes would arrive soon. All of her things from the house would arrive within the week. She would be living there for the rest of her life. She loathed that.
The more she thought about it, the faster her tears sneaked up on her. And for the first time in a while, she let them fall. She let them land, fall down her cheek, and wrap around her jaw before falling on her dress. She counted the sound of them hitting the satin. She wished even more to be out of her layers. Out of her corset that would not let her take a breath.
“Mrs. Bertha Russell is here, ma’am.”
Aurora’s head jolted towards the man, who looked away so as not to make her feel embarrassed.
“Oh- thank you…she can come in.”
Aurora quickly wiped away tears and tried to fix her makeup that was surely ruined by now.
“Aurora?” Bertha stood at the door.
“Bertha! What a surprise,” Aurora laughed, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to check on you.” Bertha’s eyes never moved from Aurora’s who moved about the space trying to put her heels back on and fix herself. “I left early. Got home and felt…” she took a deep breath to reset. “I just wanted to see how you were. I’m sorry about Mamie.”
“It’s my life now,” Aurora’s voice cracked. Badly. And she couldn’t help the tears that fell. She covered her face in embarrassment before falling to sit on her couch.
“Aurora,” Bertha rushed to sit next to her. She didn’t know how to explain that she felt the same pain somehow. It was hidden from the public. But she was watching herself lose George more and more.
“I’m sorry. I just l-“
“I-“
Their eyes locked. And it was as if they were seeing each other for the first time. Bertha wanted to hold the woman in front of her. She wanted to fix the society they had volunteered themselves for. She found something in those blue eyes that she wished to heal.
Aurora could see Bertha’s loneliness. She always thought the woman had so many people around her. But that wasn’t true. They were there for her status. They pretended. Some of them did. Just as she did when she first met Bertha. And that plagued her mind still. How terrible it was to dismiss Bertha the way she did. Aurora wasn’t always great at deciphering people. She often chose to see the good. She believed everyone had good intentions. She had been wrong before. Many times. But her optimism got the best of her.
She never thought Bertha needed someone as badly as she did. Bertha had George. Bertha had Larry and Gladys. And now the Duke. Bertha was lonely in her own house. She was breaking away. Her light, her lust for society. It was all fading. Aurora wished for it back.
Aurora embraced Bertha, who had begun to pinch her lip to the side to keep from crying. They held each other for what felt like minutes. Their breath cycled together. The tightness of their arms around each other felt so grounding. Neither had had an embrace like this in a long time. Bertha remembered the last time she felt this from George. He kissed her on the forehead before kissing her on the lips.
Bertha was lost in her thoughts. She thought she was in her memories. She didn’t realize that she pulled back and placed a gentle kiss on Aurora’s forehead. And she surely didn’t realize that she continued what she knew, placing a kiss on Aurora’s lips. Her eyes were closed. She’d gone numb. Truly.
Because George was the one who always showed that kind of affection outside of the bedroom. It was not for a woman to do that in public. But Bertha often thought about how he would steal a kiss as they walked down the street together. In a carriage together. How she wished sometimes she could be the one to initiate. To be the one who pulled him in close. She pulled Aurora in close. And Bertha didn’t connect who she was kissing until she opened her eyes to see Aurora staring back at her. She panicked.
“I- I’m- I didn’t realize- I mean I forgot- I don’t know what came over me- I-“ Bertha stuttered, pushing herself back. Why didn’t Aurora stop her? How did she not know what she was doing?
“I have not been so passionately kissed in a long time,” Aurora whispered.
Bertha did not reply. She sat trying to wrap her head around her actions. Her eyes grew big, and the color in her face drained as if she had met with a ghost.
“Oh- god, what have I done?”
“Nothing wrong.”
“Aurora, I apologize for- I-“
The woman was frantically trying to distance herself, but her feet did not move. Instead, still seated, she turned, looking for her exit through tear-filled eyes.
“Bertha, Bertha-“ Aurora grabbed at Bertha’s shoulders. “It is okay. I liked- never mind.” Aurora looked down at her lap, throwing away her last word.
“Oh.”
Bertha couldn’t remember if she liked the kiss. She was thinking of George. She was dreaming of George. She had not had physical touch like that in months. And she wanted more of it. She didn't mean to force it upon Aurora. She had lost her bearings for a moment.
“I did.”
Aurora had missed that touch as well. She was alone in a home that felt foreign to her, even though it had been her summer cottage for decades. There were pieces of Charles that were scattered throughout the house. His books, his cigars, some of his old paperwork.
“I needed…that,” Aurora finally said. There was a shift in her tone. Slightly darker. Slightly…sultrier.
Bertha’s eyes shifted again. Into curiosity. And she finally put together how lonely the two of them were. How alone and barren they had been the last few months. Yet, they were only a few minutes away by carriage. Aurora knew she would never be able to call on Bertha. She wouldn’t do that to her. How would that look for Bertha if a divorced woman entered her house? But then again, it was no better for Bertha to be paying Aurora a visit.
“May I?” Aurora asked with slight embarrassment and hesitation. Only because of how society had viewed such actions. But she wanted it. She needed it too. She could almost cry at how hungry she was for someone’s touch on her bare skin. She thought that at her age it would have gone away. That feeling between her legs. But she was still fertile, which she was annoyingly reminded of every month.
“Just one more.”
Aurora was slow to lean in, keeping track of Bertha’s reactions. If Bertha moved back, Aurora would too. She was ready to abort the plan if need be. But Bertha didn’t. In fact, she leaned in too.
There was a warmth that filled the women’s bodies. The color heated Bertha’s face again, and Aurora noted her rosy cheeks. She could feel her own cheeks burn from their sin. And the thing about this sin is that neither of them cared. Not one bit.
The way Bertha’s soft lips hit Aurora’s made her sigh. How Bertha’s tongue began to dance with Aurora’s. And how they’d agreed to one more, but they stole more than one. Enough to make their breaths hitch, to make their hands grasp at the other’s back. Enough to mix colors of lipstick and for both of them to be breathless by the time they parted.
“Just one,” Bertha laughed at herself, her fingers touching her lips.
“Stay the night.”
There was a pause in their laughter. Aurora meant it. She didn’t stutter. She didn’t take it back. She didn’t falter where her hand lay on Bertha’s hip or how close they still were.
“We are choosing risky business.”
“Business is business. I owe you for standing up for me at the luncheon. You could have been cast away the same as me. You make bold moves in your game of chess, Bertha. And I’m grateful for your friendship.” Aurora’s voice was shaky, worried about what Bertha would think about her proposition.
Bertha’s smile slightly faded. She knew she could have had problems speaking for Aurora. But she knew the odds were far in her favor. And still, she was willing to risk it for this woman. She’d never given thought to that part.
“I had not thought of that. It has been so long since George kissed me. I haven’t seen him since Easter. Nor Larry. I just mean to say, I am grateful for your friendship as well.” The lump in Bertha’s throat was back as she revealed her issues with George. Aurora’s face wrinkled with concern. The Russells were having marital issues, and here she was crying about a divorce that took place months ago.
“Just for tonight,” Aurora whispered, “we deserve to feel wanted again. One night.”
“We do. You do.”
Aurora stood to lock the drawing room door and release her staff for the afternoon. As she turned back to return to Bertha, she was met in the middle of the carpet by the woman. And another kiss. A wet, plump, hot kiss. Bertha’s hands were quick to pull pins and combs out of Aurora’s hair before throwing them on the floor. As she felt the blonde hair fall from its weaving, she stepped back to look at the woman. Her hair fell down her back with a slight curl. She was stunning with her hair down.
Bertha began to pull the pins and combs from her hair as well, throwing them down with Aurora’s. She wanted to be free of this clothing and the tight hair that sat on her head.
Then back they went to each other like a dance. Bertha’s fingers pulled at the root of Aurora’s hair. She pulled at George’s hair. She loved the texture of his thick curls in her fingers. And he loved the sensation. Aurora gasped.
“Oh-“ she voiced.
“Should I not do that?” Bertha asked quickly. Her hand released into the air, a plume of blonde locks flying behind it.
“Please do. Please-“
Aurora shuddered, feeling Bertha’s fingers in her hair again. Aurora initiated a kiss. She took control this time. And oh, how Bertha moaned. Bertha liked control, she did. But when George took over in bed, she did nothing but melt like a puddle.
“Turn around,” Bertha huffed. Her hands found the buttons that lined Aurora’s back. One by one, she opened them. No tool, though she wished she had one. It took longer than she had expected. But once she got the corset off, she went for the skirt. She tried her best not to ruin the dress. But a button broke from the skirt.
“It’s fine, it is an old dress.”
After another handful of buttons, Aurora stood in only her undergarments. It was not long before Bertha matched.
“Are we making a mistake?”
“No.” There was slight hesitation in Bertha’s voice, but she recovered quickly. She walked to Aurora and unclasped the woman’s final corset. What soft, white skin the woman had. A few freckles, a few beauty marks here and there. Bertha could only stare and scan. But Aurora didn’t let her look for long as she moved to release Bertha from her final layers. Instead of drinking her in, Aurora pressed against Bertha, her eyes locked in.
“One night.”
“One night.”
Aurora’s arms snaked around Bertha’s body. She felt so soft, so delicate. Aurora’s skin pricked with goosebumps. She blamed the chill of a draft flowing through the room in her mind. But she was beginning to feel the burning of her skin as the two fell to the couch. Bodies melded together, and heat rose.
“I need this,” Aurora whispered. “I need it, please.”
Aurora pulled Bertha’s hips closer, forcing her legs to open wider around Aurora’s hips.
A squeeze of Aurora’s breasts made her jump slightly. But she moaned with her head pressed against the back of the couch.
Bertha did what she knew she liked from George. His hands wandering her body. Warming her up. Lying her down so her hair fanned against the pillow and placing himself between her legs. Aurora smiled, watching Bertha go through the motions. Bertha noticed details of Aurora she hadn’t before. Her cupid's bow top lip. A small scar that rested on her rib. The wave of her hair. The way her face scrunched with anticipation and confusion.
In the back of Bertha’s mind, she wondered where the scar came from. A childhood mishap, perhaps. A fall off a horse or playing too hard with cousins in the summer. Maybe she would ask later.
Bertha’s fingers began to find their way to Aurora’s center. She was so starved that she herself pushed Bertha’s hands down faster. She was already shuddering as she felt Bertha’s fingers slide between her folds. She was drenched.
“Oh my.” Bertha never knew she was capable of this to a woman. Capable of letting herself go. Let alone making someone else, a woman, drop to this state so quickly.
“Yes. Oh-“ Aurora began. She stopped herself, biting her bottom lip. But Bertha’s fingers began to roll and pinch at her bud, and she couldn’t help from moaning something loud.
“Shh, we don’t want them to be suspicious,” Bertha whispered, talking of the workers outside the door.
“I have sent them away for the afternoon. They will not be back until dinner.”
Bertha did not respond. Instead, her free hand found her center, and she moaned with Aurora as they both began to feel their bodies tingle. They were finally getting what they had been craving.
“Kiss me.” Those blue eyes gazed deep into Bertha’s. There was a yearning she’d never seen in this woman before. She wondered if this was the first time Aurora had lived this with Bertha or if she had dreamt it on long nights in the past.
Bertha obliged, fixing herself on top of Aurora. The sounds the woman made were addictive. Bertha wanted more. And so she pulled another move that George had done with her for many years. She moved down the couch and pushed Aurora’s knees up to her chest before attaching her lips to the woman. Aurora almost screamed. Her hands involuntarily gripped Bertha’s hair.
They moaned in sync, and Bertha’s tongue slipped inside of Aurora. Her hips bucked, and she panted as a finger entered. God, she hadn’t felt like this in ages.
Aurora’s jaw clenched and her abs contracted as she lost control of her body. It belonged to Bertha now. Her skillful tongue and those eyes that watched from below. Aurora tried to be quiet. Anyone could be passing by the house after all. Her breath caught in her chest, and her face turned red from the lack of oxygen.
“No, no.” Bertha stopped. Her eyes burned into Aurora’s. “I want to hear you. You said you’d sent them away.”
“I did-“
Bertha was sometimes loud in bed. Not always. But she knew she could be. She knew George loved it. She never quite knew why. He was not loud. He did not moan her name. He called her beautiful. He reminded her he loved her. He cursed the Lord’s name. But Bertha never understood why he asked for her sound. For her voice.
Until now.
“Please, let me hear you.”
Aurora gave a weary smile before resting her head back onto the decorative pillow that matched the satin of the couch. And a wave of embarrassment passed over her. How she had secretly yearned for this moment. How she had dreamt of it differently. How she thought Bertha would sound or how she would control. Aurora knew Bertha loved control. But there was something soft about this Bertha. She did not demand. She did not beg. She simply asked with a please.
As Bertha began to circle her tongue, Aurora obliged the woman’s request. She moaned and huffed. She wasn’t sure which parts were performative for Bertha’s sake and which came from deep within. But she knew she was close. And it was closer than she had been in years with Charles. It wasn’t long before she had no control of the sounds that escaped her. Bertha began making her own sounds as she responded to Aurora's melodic tones. She was fully present for what was in front of her. And she loved every inch.
“Oh, God-“ Aurora yelled. There it was. The words Bertha knew from George. She was doing well. Better than she ever thought she would, at least. Sure, she knew what George did that she liked. But on someone else, with no practice, was a different kind of challenge.
“Bertha-“
Bertha moaned at the sound of her name coming from the depths of the woman before her. Aurora gasped before letting out a guttural cry. Aurora’s nails dug into her scalp. Bertha watched as the woman’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. This was the view George got every steamy evening in Bertha’s bedroom? She now understood why he sometimes begged for it. This view was bliss. This view, the music of this woman’s moans in her ears. How had she gone so long before realizing this was what it felt like?
Bertha smiled, feeling Aurora pulse around her fingers. She watched the woman’s abs contract and her mouth pry open with a moan that even Bertha could feel through her body. She went until she could stand it no longer, pulling Bertha up by her hair.
A lip bite. A tongue. A moan. Aurora’s head felt as though it was buzzing, and she could barely see Bertha through the blur of tears in her eyes. She’d felt happiness for the first time since the divorce. And now all she wanted was to return the favor.
“Tell me what to do,” Aurora huffed. She hadn’t been with someone like this in years. She’d not seen Charles this way in years. Maybe she should have noticed something was wrong.
Bertha pulled Aurora up, pushing her back against the couch. Their lips never parted as Bertha straddled her legs across Aurora’s hips.
“Just watch,” Bertha whispered, her voice full of hot air. Her hand grabbed Aurora’s and wrapped it around her lower back. The other pulled close to her center. Bertha’s brows knitted together as she felt Aurora’s fingers against herself. She knew she was dripping with anticipation. That show before was exactly what she needed to feel her stomach drop and the yearn for someone’s touch.
Aurora gasped, feeling how wet Bertha was. She did that. She did that.
Bertha’s hips began to roll against Aurora’s hand. She let out soft moans as she kissed Aurora, her free hand pinching and squeezing at her own breast. Her hips moved freely until she needed more. She needed to feel Aurora within her. She slowed, stood, and positioned Aurora’s hand with her fingers ready for Bertha to descend on.
“Wait,” Aurora said, stopping Bertha from sitting back down on her thigh.
Bertha’s chest rose and fell out of breath.
“I just wanted to see you like this.”
Bertha smiled before moving forward, placing her hands atop Aurora’s shoulders for stability. And down she went. Their eyes locked and never left each other. Aurora’s fingers slid easily into Bertha’s center, and they both groaned at the sensation. Bertha bit her lip as she settled onto Aurora. Aurora’s eyes dilated, waiting to hear Bertha’s moans. She wanted this woman to be loud. She wanted to see her face turn red and for her nipples to harden from the high.
Bertha began to grind herself against the heel of Aurora’s hand while trying to force Aurora’s fingers against her. The pressure on her clit was more than she’d felt on her own in the last weeks, and she almost couldn’t keep herself upright.
“Aurora,” Bertha huffed. Her throat began to dry, and she could feel her ears ringing every time she shouted from the pressure on herself. Aurora’s free hand replaced Bertha’s at her breast. Seconds later, Aurora’s lips found themselves wrapped around the plump breast in front of her. Her free hand moved back to Bertha’s lower back, her nails dragging against the skin.
It was a stretch, but Bertha was able to find Aurora’s center with one hand, the other gripping the woman’s shoulder. For the first time that evening, the two harmonized with their moans and grunts.
“B-bend, bend your fing- GOD-”
Aurora felt Bertha’s juices soak her thigh. She was dangerously close and was begging for it.
“Bertha-” Aurora huffed, her eyes slivering from the feeling between her legs.
Three chesty yells came from the brunette as her head was thrown back and her body shook above the other. She could do no more, her energy spent with her orgasm. Aurora dreamily watched Bertha in her ecstasy, her fingers still rolling inside her. Aurora’s other hand began to roll against her own center, filling the absent touch from Bertha’s hand.
When Bertha could take it no more, she stood, dropping to her knees on the ground between Aurora’s legs. Without hesitation, her lips attached to Aurora. Neither wanted it to end. They hadn’t felt this lust, this passion, this ache in their centers in a long time. They knew they would regret it all later. They would feel embarrassed at church on Sunday and assume everyone could smell it on them as they walked through Newport. But at the present moment, they don't care. They just want to hear their name in the other’s mouth. To feel the heat between each other.
What started as an afternoon of public embarrassment ended with an afternoon of realization. They needed each other. They always had. Maybe it wasn’t a sin if they were allowed this far with such a feeling between each other. Maybe it was written for them by the stars. Or maybe, they were just lonely and forced themselves to believe it. For tonight, it didn’t matter. Because tomorrow they would pretend it never happened. Tomorrow, Aurora went back to the lonely woman who was divorced, and Bertha would be at the top of society.
“Thank you,” Aurora moaned. She didn’t know what else to say. But her fingers gripped Bertha’s hair as she came. Bertha just smiled into Aurora’s center as she slowed her tongue to bring Aurora back to Earth.
“I want more,” Bertha hummed. “I need more.”
Aurora’s eyes opened and looked down at the woman, whose eyes immediately dilated as they met hers. She never in a million years would have thought she would have a night like this. “Kiss me.”
Just came home from a dinner party with the friendgroup at which several people kept saying "Ask Pedro" or "Pedro will know" and I was terrified that they were referring to an AI like Claude but no, thank fuck, they were referring to a cardboard cutout of Pedro Pascal that someone left upstairs and who has been designated a kind of patron saint status in the household.
i love reading the titles people have chosen for aurora fics bc like me they too are kelli fans which means we are using songs and ideas from the musicals she has been in as our themes and main ideas for her fics.
pretty much all of the aurora x bertha fics i've read on ao3 are good (and there aren't that many so i think i've read most/all of them)
I’ve read a lot of them. Not all. Some are just types of fics I don’t read. I wish there were more 😭 I’m tryna add to the collection but I also wanna read what isn’t mine.
does anyone have any good aurora fics or aurora x bertha. Ok the fics im looking to read if u know of any:
- aurora x bertha (or just ab them singularly)
- elsbeth x kinda anyone honestly. any elsbeth. but bonus points if it’s wlw.
- some good melissa stand alone like about her mostly. or x barb i guess. Same with Chessy.
- Chessy x meredith.
- mmm if there are fics you think i would like but might not fit these u can still rec them but i really dont watch a lot of tv so i might not know who you’re talking ab.
