About Sappho's Interim Affair: The Sappho Trilogy, Book Two

By Jonathan Biernot

A chance encounter with a Black Investment Banker gives Sappho the outlet she needs to square her emotions. Sappho literally collides into Jackson in a local supermarket. The elegant black businessman is six feet tall and built-like-a-track-athlete. The chemistry between them is instantaneous, their conversation filled with innuendo, leading to Jackson’s invitation for lunch. During one their subsequent dates, Jackson introduces her to his twin brother, Johnston – Johnston, in turn, introduces her to his friends. Following is the story of how Sappho’s addiction to cock is transformed to an addiction to Black cock.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pink Flamingo Media LLC
• Release date: Nov 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781945648113

Book preview

About Sappho’s Interim Affair

An Erotic Interlude

by Jonathan Biernot

ISBN: 978-1-945648-11-3

A Pink Flamingo Media Ebook

Copyright ©2016 by Joanthan Biernot

Smashwords Edition

The characters in this novel are pure fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. The situations described herein are also fictitious and should not be attempted by any persons. Any efforts to duplicate the events or conditions can result in serious injury or even death.

Preview

Jonathan Biernot writes Erotica for men and women of all ages and social groups in many corners of the world.

Whatever your gender, it’s easy to imagine a personal inclusion because each Novella has realistic settings that are empathic to both; they blend irony with graphic imagery but the work is tasteful and there is no tendency towards pornography.

"About Sappho’s Initiation" recounts how a chance encounter changed the life of a beautiful, young, vanilla-housewife and mother and led her into the realms of submissiveness and an addiction to cock.

The sequel, About Sappho’s International Role, tells how Sappho uses her new found craving to become the facilitator for an Arms Trader in the pursuit of his African and Global transactions.

However, on returning to her Master, she recalls an interlude before her adventures in the Indian Ocean. In About Sappho’s Interim Affair she explains how her addiction to cock was transformed to an addiction to Black Cock. Readers of The Sappho Trilogy might wish to embark on this novella, first.

An Ode to Sappho

"Well remembered are your almond-green eyes

Your high cheek-bones

And your cherry-like lips

Set into a pale visage

Beneath your heavy, auburn tresses:

These sit atop

Your small, firm and well-rounded breasts

Formed high above your flat belly, narrow waist and slender hips

Which skirt your depilated mound:

All afront

Your perfect ass with its easy and unfettered access:

And each is surmounted on

Long, slim and shapely legs adjoining tiny feet"

To you, Sappho, goes this Further Salute

About Sappho’s Interim Affair

An Erotic Interlude between

About Sappho’s Initiation

And the sequel

About Sappho’s International Role

Prologue to The Sappho Trilogy

About Sappho’s Initiation is a well-crafted love story that brings a new dimension to erotic literature. The Novella is an anthology of the real events that led a beautiful young housewife and mother into the realms of submissiveness and an addiction to cock.

It ended in a sub-penthouse where four, young, Afro-Caribbean men were on Sappho; but the next time I saw her was in a photograph taken, and sent to me, by her husband who had shot it using a long-lens camera.

It showed Sappho looking radiant and strolling down a street flanked by two middle-eastern-looking gentlemen. Sappho was sun tanned and her long, auburn hair was wafting in the breeze and flowing, lazily, over her shoulders. She was magnificently bejewelled, carefully made-up and wearing a white, diaphanous dress but, this time, she wore flat court shoes.

What interested me were the handcuffs that manacled her to the two men. Beyond, her breasts were swollen and so was her belly.

About Sappho’s International Role describes how Sappho came to be in this condition. She recounted it shortly after her return to me and, in the course of her narrative, explained how a makeshift relationship had transformed her addiction from one form of cock to an addiction to Black cock.

She recalls this in About Sappho’s Interim Affair, which, like its precedents, will arouse men and women from all ages and social groups in many corners of the world.

For the record, Sappho is a young, North American housewife and mother of Greek descent who emerged from a state of naivety into an unparalleled level of sexual maturity under the mentoring and tutelage of a Guiding Master.

As well as her natural beauty, Sappho is intellectually astute, emotionally mature and spiritually aware; a more elegant, dignified, wise and compliant partner no man could wish for: she brings a perfect blend of responsiveness, assertiveness and submissiveness to her lovemaking.

All-in-all, Sappho is an icon but there’s nothing flamboyant about her: it’s all down to her radiance, natural poise, beauty and bearing. If anything, Sappho is understated and she does not take long to make up her mind.

Chapter One

An Incident In The Supermarket

It all started, innocently enough, in a local supermarket when two shopping trolleys crashed.

Oh, I’m so sorry! That was careless of me; here, let me pick up your supplies!

Sappho was cruising the aisles when the collision occurred; she’d stopped to check a row when the top layer of her packages started rolling around her feet and, as she turned, she saw an elegant, ebony-coloured, fellow looking straight into her eyes.

Look, I just wasn’t watching where I was going and I’d be happy to pay for your groceries into the bargain. Anyway, let’s get this stuff back in and we can take it from there.

Sappho hadn’t responded; she just stood there, looking chic, calmly letting him talk himself out, and then, all of a sudden, she opened her lips, flashed her teeth and smiled; Ok, you great big clumsy oaf, you can pack it and then you can pay for it!

She carried on smiling, which helped her suitor to break into a grin, then he introduced himself; Ma’am, I’m Jackson and I shop here every now and then. I’m hosting a dinner party tonight and need a few things.

Oh, you cook, too?

"Well, I can cook but this is a special occasion so I’ve arranged for Caterers to do the job; all I’m doing is backing up my stores to make sure there’s something in there for tomorrow."

You know, I’m so pleased to hear that because the way you drive your trolley makes me wonder how you’d tackle anything in the kitchen!

Sappho still hadn’t moved; she’d straightened-up, turned on the spot and was facing him, almost front-on, but her poise matched his. She was wearing a heavy cotton, loose-fitting white blouse, a few buttons open at the neck, the collar half turned-up at the back; the sleeves were billowing, buttoned at the cuff and the whole lot was tucked under a broad leather belt into a below-the-knee red pencil skirt.

She wore red, high-heeled shoes and flesh-coloured hold-ups accompanied by simple jewellery; a signet ring, hoop-earrings, a watch, bracelet and a thin gold chain around her neck. Sappho’s hair is auburn, heavy, shoulder-length and the delicate perfume surrounding her was already catching Jackson’s nostrils. As he scanned her face he picked out her subtle eye-make up, the ruby lipstick and knew he was on his way to heaven.

What he couldn’t know was that Sappho never wore underwear. Since her initiation she’d abandoned bras and panties and maintained a depilated pubic mound. Now, the camel’s foot in that mound was secreting moisture and Sappho knew that she, too, was hooked.

So, an erotic connection had been made and the delicate process of courtship was begun.

Jackson, at over six feet tall and built like a track-athlete, was a businessman dressed in a single-breasted, dark blue suit with a tiny pattern in the weave. He wore tassel-loafers, a classic cut, plain white, herring-bone patterned cotton shirt with a yellow silk tie. No rings; just gold cuff-links, tie-clip and a slim Rolex. His cheek bones and his fragrance were prominent, his nose was aquiline, his mouth was full but his lips were thin and contained in a square jaw. Like his chin, his head was shaved and, as Sappho would soon discover, his balls were as bald as his bonce.

For what seemed like an age the players stood looking at each other: neither was staring nor feeling any embarrassment; they were just exuding all the signs of an easy comfort and then Jackson broke it.

He knelt down, started gathering Sappho’s groceries and re-stacking her basket and then, just as the last items were lodged, Sappho leaned forward, placed her finger on his bald head and said, Arise, Sir Jackson, and take your place in the checkout!

Ma’am, you are something else! And, even though you’ve never told me who you are, I have a feeling you’re a celebrity; have I seen you on television, in the newspapers or, maybe, at a Gallery or Museum?

Well, I’m not sure about the term ‘celebrity’ but I’m a Specialist at the City Gallery of Art, Fine Arts and Culture. Do you ever go there?

Yes, Ma’am, my Bank is a Sponsor and those soirees are a gig-and-a-half. What’re your interests?

I do Impressionist stuff and, every-now-and-then, there’s a Panel Event where major, potential clients come along to a preview and we give talks; history, genre, positive critiques, all that kind of thing. Sometimes we include a compare-and-contrast discussion about similar works. So, you’re a Banker? Investment, I presume?

Yes, Ma’am; I’m a Banker and that first letter is a ‘B’!

They both understood the connotation and their smiles gave way to an audible chuckle before Jackson wheeled his own trolley in the direction of the checkout and Sappho followed.

Please take payment for both of these loads and I’ll settle the lot.

Sappho’s came to over $200 and his to a meagre $80; so, en route to the car, she reflected on how good fortune had smiled on her.

Where’re you parked?

Mine’s the black Range Rover; it’s the Vogue on the next row; what’re you driving? A Porsche, I bet?

No, Ma’am, it’s a Ferrari; no need to tell you the colour and, as it happens, it’s right there, almost alongside yours!

When they got there, Jackson hesitated before saying; Look, Ma’am, you’re a lot of fun and, as well as still not knowing your name, grovelling at your feet, paying for your groceries, and escorting you to your car will you accept my invitation to lunch?

Yes, and my name is Sappho!

Sappho? Are you Greek?

Yes, right again. I’m of Greek descent; my parents emigrated here and my husband is from an immigrant family, too; European but not Greek.

Oh, you’re married?

Yes, and I have two children; two sons who’re about to fly the nest back to Boarding School.

Oh, ok; but you’re not wearing a Wedding Band!

No, I’m not but I’m not wearing a bra or panties either. Do you still want to have lunch?

Jackson was a bit taken-aback at this but, gathering himself, shot back; Sure; why not?

So they made arrangements to meet at a downtown hotel the following week. Sappho explained that she’d make her own way there and that he should be in the lobby to receive her.

No problem and, between now and then, Jackson’s mind was awash with thoughts about this magnificent woman.

When the day dawned and his date walked into the lobby it was not only Jackson whose head was turned and whose attention shifted to Sappho. She has this affect on everyone everywhere she goes and this date, in her home town, was no exception.

What they saw was a tall, slim woman dressed in a navy blue, silk mini-dress gliding across the floor; she carried a navy leather clutch bag; her high-heeled shoes matching the soft leather: her stockings were flesh-coloured hold ups. The dress was close fitting,