Over the last four weeks my interviews, exploring people’s sexual nature, have been going well. Not only have friends and colleagues made suggestions by word of mouth, as you do, but I have also received many emails.

Then there was the letter. I am not sure how they found out my address, but I arrived home to find a letter on my doormat. I normally just pick up the junk mail every evening and throw it in the recycling. On this occasion, the pink envelope stood out.

I dropped my bag just behind the door, picked it up and flipped it over to find a heart-shaped scrawled on the back. It was addressed perfectly, my name and address, correct to the letter. It was also scented. I had to read it.

I grabbed a knife and slit it open along the top edge. Picking out the letter, I unfolded it and watched in dismay as a thousand glittering stars fell to the floor. The contents fluttered down and over the kitchen tiles, chair and table.

Fuck! I thought. I could do without all this crap.

I walked to the lounge and sat down in the chair. I was a little angry with the mess but I read the letter.

Surprise!

I would like to be your next interviewee. I’ve heard a lot about you and I reckon you would love to talk to me.
I can’t tell you my name – not yet anyway. It may come as a bit of a surprise!
I have one phrase that I think will convince you – I’m a Lesbian.

Emxxx

07465408632 to arrange
PS, I will help clean up the mess as well.

I looked at the writing, then at the number and then at the offer to help. Unless she could get within the next ten minutes then the help would be no fucking good. I looked at the mess in the kitchen. I hurled my trusted Dyson out of the cupboard and looked at the mess one more time before switching it on and cleaning it up.

Halfway through, I stopped, picked up the phone and started to dial the number. The phone rang and rang, and finally, a voice, stating the name of Emily, answered.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m looking at a mess on my floor at the moment and you said in your letter that you would come and help clean it up?”

I nodded as she replied that she was unavailable until Saturday. It was seriously looking like I either did it myself or waited two days. There was no real option available to me. We chatted for a while, I asked her why she thought that her name would be a surprise to me and she informed me that she would let me into the secret when we meet.

“When we meet?” I questioned her. She was adamant that we would, and told me that my curiosity would demand that we did.

She was right, of course. I found myself smiling and I knew that her assumptions were correct. We set a date and a time for the interview. I had to do it.

oOo

Saturday was too far in the future as far as I was concerned, but it came around quickly enough. Mystery guest number one was about to arrive in an hour and I was busy getting things ready for her.

I kept wondering how the interview would go. A lesbian. Why was I interviewing a lesbian for fuck's sake? I considered the situation carefully. There would be no spanking and no caning. Certainly no sex, well, not with me anyway. I came to the conclusion that this would be purely a discussion about lesbian relationships.

I was out of my depth on this one but excited at the same time.

Six o’clock arrived. There was no knock on the door. Seven arrived and still nothing. I watched the clock on the wall tick by, I made myself another Nespresso coffee and sipped it gently, passing the time of day. I doubled checked the recording device and looked at the door one more time.

The coffee was getting to me and I decided to go for a piss. I was in full flow when-

The doorbell rang out. Fuck! I thought, why does this happen every time I’m doing something personal.

The doorbell rang again, Mystery guest was getting impatient, but fuck it, at my age, things didn’t happen that quickly.

I eventually finished and rushed to the door. No-one was there, I looked outside and caught a woman halfway down the corridor. I shouted after her.

“Hellooo!”

It was a stupid phrase, but what do you call someone that you don’t know. The words registered and she turned around to face me.

I could see a wry smile on her face, a pout emerged too and she started to exercise her long legs back in my direction. When she approached the door, she raised her eyebrows and smiled at me.

“Good evening.” She said, “I thought you had got cold feet?”

“Emily?” I asked as she extended her hand in my direction. I took her hand and gave it a polite shake; ignoring her comment about my feet. I actually couldn’t believe I was touching a lesbian.

“Why don’t you come in, take a seat.”

I motioned to the nice leather chair against the mirrored wall and followed her to it. Emily dropped her bag down by the side of the chair and I wondered what a lesbian carried in a bag like that. It was Mulberry and a little larger than most handbags.

Emily turned to face me and I sat on the arm of the chair facing her.

I guess the interview started a little informally and I didn’t have time to switch the recording machine on. I was admiring her long legs, to be honest about it.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked.

“I’d love one, please, Gin and Tonic if you have it.”

I nodded, got up and made my way to the kitchen.

“Nice place you have here,” shouted Emily.

“It’s not bad,” I shouted back. The clink-clink of the ice into the glass rang out through the kitchen and I gathered up the tonic water and took it back into the lounge.

“I hope you don’t mind,” said Emily, “I switched the machine on for you. Don’t want you missing anything important.”

I could tell she was playing with me. I looked behind me and nodded.

“That’s very nice of you. Thanks.”

I measured the gin and poured it over the ice, opened the can of Fever Tree and poured it into the glass. By the time I turned around Emily was sitting with her legs crossed in the chair. I handed her the drink. She took an immediate and long sip before cradling it in her hands.

“I know all about you, you know.”

“Do you indeed. Why does that not surprise me? Your letter was very secretive.”

I just smiled at her. She bit her lip and smiled back at me. I would hazard a guess that if I were female, I would be standing here naked and her hands would be pawing at my body. Kissing my nipples and pushing me over the chair to take me, lesbian style of course.

I kept quiet for a while, pondering those sexy thoughts and drinking in her beauty while waiting for her to tell me something important.

“My names Emily…”

“I know,” I nodded.

“Emily Trantor.”

My face moved, lots of it moved. My eyes opened, my mouth dropped open a little bit and my smile definitely disappeared. I suddenly felt sweat bead on my forehead.

“Emily Trantor.” I retorted, “related to Bill Trantor, chief executive of News Line 24.”

Emily nodded with a broad grin on her face. Her smile beamed like a search beacon.

I rubbed my finger against my face, covered my mouth with the arch of my hand and drew my hand down over my face, finally cupping my chin and leaving out a big sigh.

“You’re Bill Trantor’s wife?” I blurted out in disbelief.

“No, not his wife –  his daughter.”

I closed my eyes and bit the side of my mouth. I looked up to the ceiling and pondered for a few moments. This was getting worse and worse.

“Youngest daughter – I’m in College, University of East London, studying social photography, of all things. Nice place, London.”

I contemplated switching the recording machine off and erasing the tape, but I kept being interrupted by this voluptuous woman that could not stop providing me with her details.

“I’m finding all sorts of interesting things to do in this wonderful city. You must love working here.”

“Yes, it’s a nice place, lots of opportunities.”

“Tell me about it.” She winked. “So, where are all these questions then?”

I settled back into the chair and for the first time, I was dumbstruck. I kept looking into her shining eyes. She picked up her phone and fiddled with it while returning my stare. She finally put it down by the side of her and crossed her legs; making her short skirt slide along the outside of her leg.  

“What attracts you to women?” I blurted out, quickly.

“Tits, nipples and that sweet scent that lies deep down between someone’s legs, waiting to be released and tasted by my hot tongue.”

“Really?” I nodded my head. She was direct if nothing else.

“I just love everything about a woman: long hair, lips that glisten, sensuous curves, prominent breasts, nipples that grow and shrink just like a penis, slippery pussies and like I said, that scent and taste that you can’t get anywhere else in the world. The same taste and smell you probably like.”

I admitted to myself that she was right. “I can see your logic, so why do men turn you off?”

Emily smiled. “You don’t smell the same. There’s no sexual anticipation, men get turned on, they get hard and they erupt. End of story. Women on the other hand – can feel urges when their nipples are sucked and licked, some can come just by being kissed and some need the attention span of a saint to pleasure them. Everyone is different and they all pose a challenge.”

I knew what she meant but there was something deeper that I wanted to get at. Something unsaid.

“Do you hate men?”

Emily looked down at her thighs and then back into my eyes.

“Not all men, not you, yet!”

“Why not me, yet?”

“When I was younger, I was put off sex by men. One man, in particular, it was not a pretty sight but one that will live with me forever. From that moment on I turned to women, mainly older women too.”

“What about genetics? Does that not play a part?”

“In my case, I don’t think so. I’m attracted to women because I want to be. If I feel something towards a man then I think of – ”

Emily nodded and raised her thumb in the air, shaking it over her shoulder.

“- And that generally makes the feeling go away, I guess.”

Emily nodded.

“I have to say you’re very attractive. Do you find it easy to attract other women?”

“Easy – that’s an understatement. They’re generally gagging for it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“All women want to be pleasured – in a nice way. I think women do that more easily than men. There’s a common denominator, they want something that they know they can give – lustful and passionate loving.”

“And you think men can’t do that?”

“For some women, perhaps, but not for me.”

“Have you ever had a bad lesbian experience?”

“Once, she was a bitch. A real bitch, more like a guy, I guess. She was also my teacher. I tell you now, she could fuck better than any bloke.”

“Do you find that you need penetration?”

“I don’t – that’s why I don’t like men, but I allow it if my girlfriend or lover wants to use a Feeldoe or a strap-on. It’s what they want as much as what I want.”

I nodded in approval.

“But given the choice, it wouldn’t be something you would choose to use?”

“No.”

Emily’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it and smiled. The doorbell rang and I glanced towards it not expecting anyone to call. I apologised to Emily and rose to open the door.

I was faced with a dark-haired woman that I vaguely knew from work, though her name eluded me. I hesitantly glanced over to Emily who was sat in the chair smiling at me; biting her lip and rocking her body to and fro.

“Let her in,” Emily told me.

I opened the door and Emily called Melissa over to her.

I closed the door and allowed Melissa to strut towards Emily. I resumed my seat and watched as Melissa walked behind her and nonchalantly slid her hands over Emily’s breasts as she bent down to kiss her on her head.

“A gentle kiss on the forehead,” said Emily, “loving hands on my breasts,” she added as she put her own hands over Melissa’s.

Emily squeezed her own breasts along with Melissa.

“Do you want to know what it’s like to be me?” Emily asked.

I nodded.

Emily stood up and pulled on Melissa’s hand; guiding her around the chair to stand before her. She kissed her full on the lips. It was a sensual and erotic kiss. A lingering kiss. A passionate kiss. Both girls pressed their hands onto each other’s breasts but it was Emily that undid her skirt first and let it slide to the floor.

She looked at me. “Did you notice that? Something happened between us then, did you notice it?”

I shook my head.

“We were kissing and fondling and while I undid my skirt – what did Melissa do?”

I couldn’t think, I was watching them kiss and fondle each other. I struggled to make sense of her question.

“She parted from me to sit on the chair. She already knows what I want and she knew that from the way I was kissing her.”

“I see,” I added, knowingly or rather not knowingly.

Melissa did indeed slip to the floor and rest her head on the edge of the chair. Emily’s skirt hit the floor and all I could see was her round elegant bum and hold-up stockings in plain view. She fiddled with her blouse and before long that too joined her skirt along with her bra.

Melissa’s hands were all over Emily’s thighs before pulling her in. I heard the sigh of relief from Emily’s lips but could not see the touch of Melissa’s tongue on her pussy or it sliding between her silken lips but I could smell the aroma of their sexual tryst.

“She knows what I want and the urgency with which I need it,” Emily said aloud.

I could feel my cock twitch as one woman’s tongue devoured the other’s sexual fruits.

I saw Emily grasp Melissa’s head and pull her inwards towards her sex. I saw her hold Melissa’s head in a tight grip as Emily, more or less, fucked her tongue.

My cock had grown large by the time I heard Emily cry out and half collapse on top of Melissa.

With urgency reversed, Melissa arose from the floor and discarded her clothes as quickly and as elegantly as Emily had done.

“What are you thinking about now?” I asked Emily.

“I’m panting and feeling pleasure roll through my body, I feel that my partner is in need and I want to give her as much pleasure as I have just received.”

“Is that any different to a man and a woman having sex?”

Emily thought for a while, “yes, because when we have finished we will swap our needs and start again, rolling our pleasures together one after the other.”

By the time she had finished speaking, Melissa was lying on the couch to the side of the chair. Emily knelt and started to lick between her open thighs; parting her lips and entering her fully. Emily’s hands came up on Melissa’s breasts and squeezed them in turn before running down her body and cupping her bottom. She squeezed them as her tongue entered Melissa.

All I could hear were the sounds of moaning and groaning from both women. Emily humming tunes into Melissa’s pussy before sucking her clit into her mouth.

Melissa groaned loudly; panting and convulsing on the couch under her lover. The simplest sounds left her mouth in a quiet effusion of words, “fuck me.”

Emily pulled herself up from her lover and lifted her leg into the air. She carefully positioned herself between Melissa’s thighs making sure that their clits were touching before starting a fucking motion with her hips.

“What do you like about what you’re doing now?” I asked quickly.

“Intimacy,” gasped Emily, “our sexes touching like this is so intimate and special, slippery and wet, a little concentration from both of us and I know we will come together.”

I wanted to come with them. The two women had turned me on so much. My cock was hard and I stupidly asked whether I could masturbate. Emily shrugged the question off as she thrust her pussy over Melissa’s while clinging hard onto her leg and told me to do whatever I wanted. I undid my trousers, pulled my cock out and masturbated furiously to the two women tribbing, right in front of me. I waited and waited until I could hear the sounds of their completion. The moaning and groaning increased before both women were swearing and telling me they were coming.

I pulled on my cock harder and harder and I too erupted as they collapsed in a heap on top of each other.

It was Emily that recovered first as she looked over at me with my very own liquid cream running over my hands and onto my trousers.

“See what I mean,” Emily said, “you got turned on, you got hard and you erupted. We had a wonderful time though!”

We chatted some more as Melissa and Emily dressed and the night ended more like an interview with a lesbian and a bi-sexual. At one point I did become a little quiet as they described how they met on the sixth floor of my own building in an office that was not four metres from where my desk was situated. All that time at work and I could have easily have walked in on them making out on the boardroom table. I knew one thing for sure; it would be hard looking Melissa in the eye from now on.

Both women eventually readied themselves to leave the flat which left it feeling a little empty. In truth, I could have watched them all night and every night at that. It was a shame to see the door close behind them.

The following morning I handed my boss the transcript of my interview with a lesbian for publication. I described each and every part of their bodies that titillated my interest and interleaved that with the words. I had, in effect, written every man’s dream. I just hoped, with all my heart that my boss would not recognise his own daughter spread out so vividly in black ink on white parchment.