The New Leda

Adele had always loved swans. As a child, she’d loved being taken to the park to feed them, tearing pieces off slices of bread and throwing them into the lake. The swans would thrust towards her, pushing up little bow waves, and as they came close, she’d giggle, and hide behind her mother’s legs, as if they were after her.

She was in her teens when she came across the story of Leda, and Zeus turning himself into a swan, which she thought had been written just for her, with ‘Leda’ being almost ‘Adele’ backwards. Overnight, Johnny Depp seemed to grow white feathers, and her erotic dreams changed direction. She looked at the pictures of Leda on the computers in the library, and although she didn’t think she looked at all like the voluptuous women in the paintings, there was enough variety that she reasoned there would be room for a flat chested skinny girl with glasses somewhere.

She tried reading more Greek myths, but the other images of Zeus, muscular, violent, and bearded, she found distinctly unappealing, so she read about swans instead. One of the first things she discovered was that a male swan was called a cob, which she imagined as the combination of ‘cock’ and ‘knob’. Unfortunately, she also discovered that male swans didn’t have a cock (or knob), just a kind of general purpose hole, called a cloaca, which was the Latin for ‘sewer’. It only briefly dented her enthusiasm, and she decided that ‘cob’ was a much better name for a penis than ‘willie’. She took to collecting swan feathers from around the lake in the park on her days off, which she used to tickle her girlie bits until she could no longer hold back, plunging two fingers inside as her thumb scrubbed against her burning clittie, squeezing out her orgasm. The feathers were definitely single use, ending up soggy and bedraggled, and often bent where the shaft wasn’t strong enough to withstand the demands she put on it.

She took a break from the feathers when she was nineteen, and she started going out with Dave Swann, her first proper boyfriend. He worked with her in Sainsbury’s, and it wasn’t just his name that attracted her. He was tall and handsome, slim and clean shaven, with smooth skin, and not at all like Zeus. To begin with, she enjoyed having him stick his cob in her bits, but it never lasted long enough, so she always ended up having to use her fingers to reach a climax, while he sat and watched. After a couple of months, she dumped him, and went back to using the feathers.

As winter burgeoned leafily into spring, she continued feeding the swans on the lake in the park, and she began exploring around the edges, hunting for a nest. She never found a nest, but she did find a secluded gravelly beach, strewn with white feathers, and hidden from the paths by a dense stand of cherry laurels. When Adele stumbled upon it, it felt as if it was the perfect spot for a tryst with Zeus, in spite of all the blobs of swan shit, and her thoughts of finding a nest fell away. She collected half a dozen of the long feathers, as precious as angels’, planning to use them later, but her girlie bits were already tingling with anticipation. Wishing she’d worn a skirt or a dress, she kicked off her shoes, struggled out of her jeans, and squatted on the little beach, going to work with longest of the quills.

She was already oozing when the swan arrived, with little swishing noises as it pushed through the water towards the beach. Adele kept on going. She couldn’t have stopped, even if it had been a policeman, or her mother. Dropping the broken feather, she slipped her fingers inside, and moaned as her thumb hit the spot. “Oh, Zeussie.”

The swan stepped up onto the beach, its big black feet slapping in the shallow water, and Adele wished she’d kept some bread back, so that she could feed him. She wasn’t actually sure that the swan was male, but since it wouldn’t have a cob in any case, it wouldn’t matter. As she got her breath back, still squatting with her hand between her legs, she whispered to him. “Hello, Zeussie. I did that for you.”

The swan made a chuckling noise, as if he’d understood, and he rattled his big orange beak. He took two steps towards her, and sat down, watching her, and reminding her of Dave Swann.

“I’ve already come. Do you want me to try to do it again?” she asked, still keeping her voice down, as if someone might be listening.

She might have been mistaken, but she thought the swan nodded, and he certainly made the chuckling noise again.

“Okay.” Her bits were sore, but she picked up another of the feathers she’d left next to her jeans and pants. Working around the outside, and keeping an eye on the swan, she tickled herself until the soreness was replaced by the familiar tingling. The second time around, she was gentler with her fingers, but her orgasm was no less intense when it came. The swan just watched.

She stood up carefully, in case she should startle the swan, but he seemed no more surprised than he had when he’d watched her, merely turning his head to follow her movements as she picked up her jeans and shoes. Once she was dressed, she thanked him for the feathers. “Bye, Zeussie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When she went to bed that night, she thought about masturbating again, but she was still sore from the afternoon, so she just held her fingers against her bits to keep them warm, until she fell asleep, and dreamt of Zeussie. In her dream, he had a proper cob, like Dave Swann, but unlike Dave Swann, he brought her to a climax, his feathered belly between her spread legs, like in the paintings.

The knocking on her bedroom door woke her up. “Are you all right?” her mother asked.

Half asleep, Adele tried to reorient herself, as the swan disappeared into the darkness. “Mmh. Yes. Why?”

“You were crying out. Can I come in?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Light from the landing flooded past her mother’s silhouette as she entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Were you having a nightmare?”

Adele said, “I don’t remember. I don’t think so.” At least the second part was true.

Her mother touched her hand to Adele’s forehead. “You feel a bit hot and sweaty. Maybe you’re sickening for something. Who’s Susie?”

“Susie who?” Adele asked.

“I don’t know. It’s what you were calling out. ‘Oh, Susie’. Over and over.”

“I don’t think I know anyone called Susie.”

Her mother fetched her a glass of water, and sat with her while she drank it, as if she might cheat, and pour it away somewhere. “You know you can tell me anything you want,” she said, as she took the empty glass.

“Thanks, Mum. I expect it was just a dream. I don’t think I know anyone called Susie.”

In the morning, her mother asked her again if she was all right.

“I’m fine. Thanks for the glass of water.” After breakfast, she took a slice of bread, put on a cotton skirt, and set off for the lake. She hadn’t put on a pair of pants, and in the cool of the morning, the breeze wafting around her bits felt delicious. On the other hand, fighting her way through the cherry laurels to the little beach had been much easier in a pair of jeans. The twigs and the brambles caught on her skirt, as if trying to keep her from her destiny.

Zeussie wasn’t anywhere to be seen when Adele finally got to the beach, but she didn’t mind, she was prepared to wait. She found a patch of gravel that didn’t have any swan shit on it, and sat down, pulling up her skirt to let the sun warm her thighs and her bits. The swan arrived a quarter of an hour later, announcing its approach with the familiar swishing in the water.

“Hello, Zeussie. I’ve brought you some bread today.” Adele hadn’t actually planned what she was going to do, apart from feed the swan and masturbate, so she waited while Zeussie slapped his way out of the shallows and came towards her. Opening her legs, she tore off a piece of bread and threw it between her ankles, wondering if Zeussie would come that close.

He did. Waddling slightly, he bent down, and gobbled the piece of bread, clattering his bill. The next piece of bread went between Adele’s knees, and Zeussie snapped that up as well, taking a couple more steps to get close enough. Trembling with anticipation, Adele put a piece of bread on her thigh, near the top, hoping that Zeussie wouldn’t bite her.

Zeussie took another step, so that his body touched the inside of her leg as he bent forward to eat the bread. He didn’t bite her, and the nibbling tickled. Adele crumbled what was left of the slice of bread as close to her bits as she dared, right up to the edge of the hairs, and as Zeussie worked away, hoovering up the crumbs and catching her hairs in his beak, she felt herself getting wet inside, as if she were playing with a feather.

When the last of the crumbs had gone, the swan seemed to look at her, and then he settled down between her knees, the way he’d sat further down the beach the day before. Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Adele slipped her fingers inside, and pressed her thumb on her clittie, biting her lower lip to stop herself from crying out, in case it frightened him.

Zeussie was unperturbed, but after she’d come, and she took her fingers away, he nosed between her legs, as if sniffing her, and he clacked his bill.

“Thanks, Zeussie,” whispered Adele, reaching out to stroke his neck. The swan appeared to like the attention, stretching out his neck and making little muttering sounds.

She stayed there until her back began to ache. “Sorry, Zeussie. I have to move. Sorry.” Carefully, she eased herself away from the swan, who remained where he was, following her with his small dark eyes. Adele patted his head before she left, but she resisted the temptation to bend down and kiss him. “Goodbye. I’m afraid I have to work tomorrow, but I will be back, I promise.”

The morning had warmed up, but the air around her hot bits still felt cool as she sauntered home, humming T Rex’s ‘Ride A White Swan’ under her breath. She cleaned herself up in the bathroom, and reluctantly put a pair of pants on under her skirt.

It was a couple of days before Adele was able to return to the little beach, but when she did, the swan was already there, as if waiting for her. “Hello, Zeussie,” she whispered, lifting up her skirt to show him that she wasn’t wearing pants. “I’ve brought you some bread, too.”

The swan chuckled, and turned to face her as she sat down on the gravel.

Adele didn’t bother throwing a piece of the bread between her ankles. Instead, she just crumbled the whole slice over her upper thighs and her pubic hair, and by the time she’d finished and was leaning back, Zeussie was already settling between her legs and nibbling, his beak making the little rattling noises. He tugged on the hairs as he tried to get the bits of bread out, which made Adele gasp with pleasure, and when she brought her knees up, he nipped her clittie with his bill.

“Oh, Zeussie,” she murmured. “If only you had a cob.”

By the time he’d finished the bread, Adele was so aroused that she scarcely had to touch her bits to bring herself to a quivering climax, so that even Dave Swann would have been able to deliver. Afterwards, she squirmed down, so that her bits were touching the swan’s breast, which she hoped might make her look a bit like Leda in one of the paintings, except for the glasses, and Zeussie didn’t appear to object.

The following day, the weather wasn’t as good, with the sky overcast, but it was still warm, so she wore just a summer dress and a pair of slip ons, and took the Leda theme still further, undressing completely on the little beach, except for her glasses, which she left on so she’d be able to see properly. Zeussie just stood and watched, and when she sat down, he waddled up to settle between her legs, even before she’d crumbled the bread.

Instead of putting all of it around her bits, she spread some of the bread over her belly and her chest. She hoped that Zeussie might start at the top and work down, but in fact he picked up the biggest pieces first, dipping his head here and there, and nibbling. It was still exquisite. He caught one of her nipples in the tip of his bill, which caused her to squeak, but it didn’t faze the swan, who just kept on nibbling, leaving the crumbs tangled in her pubic hair till last, probably because they were the hardest to get at.

When he’d finished, she fingered herself quickly to orgasm, and lay back, naked except for her glasses, with the swan between her thighs, as if they’d really made love. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, it was starting to rain, with big cold drops hitting her warm skin. Trying not to disturb the swan, she struggled to her feet and put her dress back on. “Sorry, Zeussie, got to go.”

It didn’t rain especially hard, but by the time she reached home her dress was wet, and clinging coldly to her skin. She took it off and hung it over the banisters on the landing before she fetched a towel to dry herself off.

The dress was still damp when her mother came home, and asked about it.

Adele just shrugged. “I went down to the park, to feed the swans, and it came on to rain. I got a bit wet.”

The rain marked a change in the weather, so Adele had to resort to masturbating with feathers again, which she found disappointing after her adventures with the swan. To make matters worse, her bits started to itch, leaving her with an almost uncontrollable urge to scratch. She made an appointment to see her doctor, who said she’d better take a look.

“Just slip your bottom things off and climb up there,” she said, pointing at a leather couch.

Adele took off her jeans and pants, and lay back with her knees in the air while the doctor’s rubber gloved fingers poked and prodded. Unlike Zeussie’s bill, the fingering was just uncomfortable.

“Hmm. It looks a bit red. Can I look inside?”

Adele nodded. “I suppose so. What is it?”

“Probably an infection. Are you sexually active?”

“No.” It was almost true.

“Right. Let’s have a look. This might be a bit uncomfortable.” The doctor picked up a plastic speculum, but when she opened and shut it, it clacked, the way the swan’s beak clacked, setting Adele’s mind racing.

Adele heard very little of the rest of what the doctor said, and apart from the initial intrusive thrust as the speculum was inserted, she barely noticed what was going on. She realised that Zeussie didn’t need a cob, when he had such a magical orange beak that he could use instead.

“I don’t think it’s thrush,” the doctor was saying, as she withdrew the speculum. “It looks like a bacterial infection of some sort. You can get dressed now.” She dropped the speculum in the sink and started to peel off the rubber gloves. “I’ll prescribe some pessaries, which ought to clear it up. You just put them in like tampons, and they’ll dissolve, and I’ll prescribe some ointment for the outside. If it hasn’t gone in a week, come back and see me again. I’ve taken a swab, which I’ll send off, but you should be fine. You might just have wiped your bottom from back to front, that’s the usual cause.”

“Okay.” Adele took the prescription, but she wasn’t thinking about what the doctor had said, she was thinking about Zeussie’s bill in her bits. She was tempted to ask if she could take the speculum away, to practise with.

The itching eased in the first couple of days, and Adele started to imagine that the pessary was a piece of bread, which she’d rolled up, and as she pushed it in, she thought of Zeussie sliding in after it, opening and shutting his bill as he tried to eat it. She was sure that the ointment wasn’t supposed to be rubbed in vigorously, but she couldn’t help herself.

On the other hand, she stopped using the feathers, thinking that they might have been the source of the infection, with all the swan shit on the beach, and not incorrect bottom wiping at all. She didn’t throw them away, but she stuck to fantasy and fingers, which worked just as well.

The week went by, the rain stopped, and Adele’s day off dawned warm and sunny. She waited until her mother had gone out, then she took off her bra and pants and slipped her summer dress on over her naked body. There was plenty of bread in the bread bin, and she was tempted to take two slices, but she worried that Zeussie might have had enough to eat after the first one.

On the way to the park, she relished the breeze around her girlie bits, which tingled with anticipation all by themselves. The bushes seemed to have grown since she’d last been there, but she managed to fight her way through the cherry laurels, and when she reached the beach, the swan was there, sitting with his back to her, looking out over the lake.

Trembling, she took her dress off. She didn’t think she was in the least bit voluptuous, but she did feel beautiful. “Hello, Zeussie,” she whispered. “I’m back.”

The swan clambered to its feet, and turned, clattering his beak.

Adele lay down on the gravel, and crumbled most of the bread over her chest and bits, keeping back a couple of crusts hidden in her hand for the end. For a moment, she thought the swan wasn’t going to approach, but after a moment of hesitation he waddled up, and settled between her knees, eyeing her carefully before he started on the bread.

It was bliss, and by the time he’d mopped up all the crumbs, she was ready to come. “Here, Zeussie, look what I’ve got,” she said, holding up the crusts so that he could see them. She was so wet and open that the crusts slid easily inside, taking her even closer to the edge. Scarcely able to believe what was about to happen, Adele lay back, her heart pounding, and the swan brought his wonderful beak down towards her bits.