I awoke next morning, refreshed after a heavenly night’s sleep, naked, in a bed seemingly impregnated with the fluids and scents of Sue-Ann and of our previous day’s loving. For awhile, I lay there luxuriating in sensual memories, but I couldn’t do so for long. Although it was Sunday, there was work that, before meeting Sue-Ann, I had promised to do over the weekend. For a start, I had several proposals to write for presentations to potential clients. 

Now I also had to plan a programme of activities for Sue-Ann – both to make sensible use of her, and to help her learn enough about our business to be useful up in Nelson. Even though the idea of taking her to the conference centre opening had been born as a stratagem for possessing her, I owed it to my business partner Sarah to make it work at a business level, and I was determined to do just that.

I showered, dressed, breakfasted, changed the linen on the bed and, after one last indulgent inhalation of the scents of yesterday, put the used bedding in the washing machine. I then betook myself to my den and fired up my main work computer – a twenty-seven-inch-screen iMac that was my delight and joy.

An email message from the conference centre office confirmed receipt of my advice that my assistant Miss Sue-Ann Carmody would be accompanying me, and assured me that a place had been reserved for her at the gala reception that would be held on the Saturday evening, at which they looked forward to welcoming her.

I was tempted to let that email side-track me onto Sue-Ann’s programme of activities, but another email, this time from one of the potential clients, quickly brought my attention back to priorities.

I spent the morning working on the client presentations, and emailed the drafts through to Sarah. Then, I took a lunch break and started to think about my plan for Sue-Ann.

Sarah’s idea of Sue-Ann coming into the office was a good one in several ways. For one thing, we actually were a bit short-handed and there were some jobs waiting to be done when someone could get around to it – including assembling several piles of promotional material and packing it all up for us to take to Nelson. For another, of course, the experience ought to make her more credible in her ostensible role as my assistant, so that she would be less likely to be seen as just my bit of skirt on the side - something my business reputation couldn’t afford to have happen.

Part of the idea of the conference centre opening we were going to was to offer an opportunity for events-management companies like ours to showcase themselves to potential clients - potential users of the facility - who would also be attending with a view to assessing how well it would suit any conference, exhibition, seminar or other event they might want to put on. Our aim would be twofold: firstly to show off our track record - which, though I say it myself, is damned impressive - and secondly, to discuss with anyone who might think of employing our services what we could do specifically for them and, in particular, how we would be able to make this new venue work for them. The second of these goals would be more challenging and, in planning the division of labour between myself and Sue-Ann, I had assigned this role principally to myself.

How useful she could be depended a lot on how quickly and accurately she would be able to absorb and use a considerable amount of information, which I itemized in a list. I told myself she ought to be able to – after all, she was nearing completion of what I knew to be a demanding business degree course; but at the same time, if there was one thing I had learned from interviewing freshly graduated job applicants and from seeing them at work, it was that you could never assume that their degree meant they’d be any immediate use.

By mid-afternoon Sarah had emailed my presentation drafts back to me with some comments and suggested changes, and I had emailed her my draft programme for Sue-Ann, which had ended up little different from the induction plan I would have prepared for any ordinary new employee. We discussed it briefly over the phone, at the end of which Sarah merely said “Well, that looks okay – I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

I emailed a copy of the plan to Sue-Ann, then printed off a hard copy to take round to discuss with her, and phoned the Catesbys. Myra answered.

“Yes, of course, come over,” she said. “Sue-Ann will be here until a bit before six, then she’s going out to meet up with friends - they're going to a restaurant and then going clubbing."

A stab of jealousy took me by surprise, and I had to struggle to go on speaking normally. “Ah, that leaves plenty of time. I’ve just prepared a plan for the week she’ll be spending at our offices, and I’d like to go over it with her before tomorrow. Shouldn’t take long.”

“Well, dear, come as soon as you like. Keith’s off playing bowls, but Sue-Ann and I will be here. Oh, and if you don’t mind leftovers, it’d be lovely if you could stay to eat with us again.”

“My dear, if it’s leftovers from yesterday you’re talking about, that’s an irresistible invitation.”

* * * 
I was pleased at Sue-Ann’s response to the programme I had drawn up for her. The questions she asked showed a lively and intelligent grasp of what I was proposing. We arranged that in the morning I would pick her up, but that thereafter she would go to the office under her own steam.

After dinner Keith disappeared into his “man cave”, leaving Myra and me listening to some of our favourite music (some Fauré, as I recall) and companionably nursing generous measures of Frangelico - one of my favourite after-dinner tipples.

“Laura, dear…”

I forget what we had been talking about, but we had just paused to sip our drinks when she spoke, quietly but with a note in her voice that immediately raised the hairs on my neck.

“Laura, I know my niece. And I know you. I’ve known you since before she was born…”

I nodded.

“…and you can’t fool me – I know all the signs. You’re head over heels in love with that girl, aren’t you?”

Indeed I couldn’t fool her. I nodded again.

She nodded back, smiling gently at me. “Did you think I would disapprove? No. I’ve known for years about Sue-Ann’s preference for women. And I can’t think of a nicer woman for her than you. I don’t need to know what’s gone on between you so far,” she went on, “but I can tell that she’s very strongly attracted to you. She had a girl-crush on you years ago, and it looks as if she never really lost it.”

“She told me about that,” I said.

“I still remember how she described it to me back then, You were like a beautiful butterfly, and she felt like a humble stick-insect.”

“Well, she certainly doesn’t look like that now, does she?”

Myra chuckled softly. “No. I’m not surprised at you falling for her. Even Keith notices how beautiful she’s become.”

We both laughed. Keith’s general blokey lack of perceptiveness had been a standing joke between us for years.

“But that’s not the point, Laura. The thing is, I’m afraid for you – afraid that you could get badly hurt.”

“Me rather than her?”

“Mmm…” She nodded. “She’s young, strong, confident, and I know that for her age she’s very sexually experienced. She doesn’t know the half of what I know about her; she thinks I’m fuddy-duddy old Auntie Myra who has to be shielded from any knowledge of what she gets up to. Above all, Laura, she’s very resilient. She’s not going to be here for long; then she’ll be going back to uni to finish her studies and get on with her life. She’ll move on to new things – and new relationships. And where will that leave you?”

She was so right. The thirty-and-more years that separated Sue-Ann and me would one day, perhaps soon, stretch to breaking point any ties of attraction she felt towards me. I sighed: “I don’t know. It scares me – more than a bit. But I just have to trust that that’s something she and I will work out between us. The most hurtful thing is unkindness, and I don’t think she’ll treat me unkindly. She’s a very caring young woman, I think.”

“I agree, she is. But even so… sometimes kindness itself can hurt.” She reached out a hand to me. “Just remember, I’ll be here for you.”

“Bless you, Myra. Are you going to tell her you know?”

“Oh no. I’ll just go on being boring know-nothing old Auntie Myra who never notices anything and hasn’t the faintest idea about the birds and the bees…”

"Yeah, right…" We shared a chuckle.

* * * 
“That girl’s good, you know.”

It was the end of Wednesday, and our regular staff and Sue-Ann had all departed, leaving Sarah and me alone in the office. It was the first significant comment Sarah had made on Sue-Ann’s performance. “She’s made herself useful, and everyone enjoys working with her. She seems to have great people skills. She's an incredibly fast learner as well - and, best of all, she can think. I'm sure now that she'll be able to help you do a good job for us."

I was pleased to hear her confirm my own thoughts, which I had been afraid might be biased. But I was only half-listening.

The week so far had passed without Sue-Ann and me making love or even having more than a few snatched kisses. I had, of course, emphasized to her that there was to be not the least sign of affection, let alone intimacy, in the office, but I hadn’t anticipated how hard sticking to this injunction would be. The strain of being in her presence in conditions of enforced chastity was fraying my nerves.

We had made an arrangement to meet at my house for an after-work tryst, but that plan had been dashed by a text from Myra to say she and Keith wanted to take her out to dinner with friends whose son and daughter were back home visiting and wanted to catch up. There was, of course, no way in which either of us could object, and it was painful to be reminded that Sue-Ann had a whole other life, and that that life could snatch her away from me without warning.

Only one more day, and then she would be spending Thursday night with me – a whole night of bliss before an early start on our journey north, with more nights together to follow. But, as well as mounting sexual frustration, I felt desperately thwarted. Like an addict deprived of her fix - that thought alarmed me, deepening the sense of insecurity that Myra's words had awoken in me.

Only one more day… But tonight, Sue-Ann or no Sue-Ann, I needed to get laid. Urgently. I needed to find in another body not only the sexual release that nothing I could do for myself would bring me but also reassurance that I was not totally bound to her.

As soon as I got home I was surfing the internet, trawling through the sites I often used for casual hookups, but I found no-one who appealed to me. Then I suddenly knew where I wanted to go.

When Chloe Marquand and her South African expat partner Viv DuPlessis started the women-only club “C&V” in a side-street of up-market suburban Merivale, few expected it to become the success it now is. Most of its clientele are lesbian, bi, or at the very least bi-curious, but quite a number of straight women too can be found there on a typical night, just enjoying the ambiance, the contents of a well-stocked bar, and the excellent music for which the club's name is a byword. It’s a place where a woman of any age can go for a safe and civilized evening, to hook up or not as she pleases, and if hooking up is what she want to do she is unlikely to come away disappointed. It’s where Sarah, who once unblushingly described herself as a “sleeping partner” in the enterprise, introduced me to my first lesbian lover Zoe – but that’s another story.

After a hasty supper I indulged in a bubble bath to dissipate the tension that had been building inside me, then I made up, scented and dressed myself ready for what I hoped would be a successful pussy-hunt, with an alluringly packaged exterior but stripped for action underneath: a clinging mid-thigh-length dress in soft merino wool with a plunging neckline, no bra and – after a debate with myself as to whether to go commando - just a thong for underwear.

The Sapphix, the club’s resident band, were playing that night. They are an unabashedly lesbian group, but their musicianship, their style and their extensive and varied repertoire have gained them a much wider audience of fans, and their contract allows them to do gigs elsewhere in between their club appearances, both as a group and individually. The vacant spots arising from their away gigs are keenly sought after, enabling Chloe and Viv to host the pick of the South Island music scene.

When I walked into the main lounge, a few deeply entwined couples were on the dance floor and The Sapphix were giving their characteristic variation treatment to the Beatles’ “Yesterday” – a treatment consisting of a more-or-less straight delivery of the song, sung by vocalist/saxophonist Rowena (Ro) Kennard, followed by usually two or three instrumental variations, and rounded off with a vocal reprise of the song. Rowena was delivering the melody more or less straight on her alto sax, while pianist Liz Lelievre was weaving an intricate countermelody with her right hand and adding harmonies and textures that the Fab Four could never have imagined. Bassist Connie Macmahon was away on a melodic journey of her own that somehow, seemingly by some form of musical telepathy, harmonized with Liz’s piano, and percussionist Lucy Sharples was extemporizing a complex pattern around a strict-tempo beat.

Among the couples was a sight that filled me with instant desire. Her back was to me. She wore calf-hugging knee-high boots of lustrous black leather with killer heels. Shapely thighs rose to perfect globes tightly encased in black leather pants that extended down to just above the tops of her hold-up stockings. An abundance of blonde hair hung down to her shoulders. The sinuous way she moved in her partner’s arms was sheer erotic poetry..

Then the couple did a slow hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. And there, her eyes widening in surprise, beaming at me over her partner’s shoulder, was Cindy Mayhew, the woman who had served Sue-Ann and me when we were buying clothes for her at "Pour Elle".

Almost immediately I was distracted. “Laura, darling, long time no kiss,” Chloe exclaimed, blocking my view of Cindy as she clasped me to her very ample bosom and all-but devoured my mouth with hers. “I hope you’ve been keeping well and cumming often, even if you haven’t been coming here of late.”

“I guess I haven’t been doing too badly,” I said, trying to sound mock-demure. “How about you and the lovely Viv?”

“Oh, we keep our ends up,” Chloe chuckled. “Quite regularly, as it happens. Now, what d’you want to drink – your usual?” My usual is a double Frangelico on ice.

“Yes thanks. And tell me, what’s Cindy’s favourite tipple?”

“Ooh, darling – interested are you?”

“She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, right,” Chloe retorted. “Heard that one before. Well, hers is usually a margarita. But she’s not just anyone’s for a drink, you know – not an easy lay, that girl. Mind you,” she added pensively, “she does look as if she’s putting it out a bit tonight, don’t you think?”

“Tut-tut, Chloe dear, honi soit qui mal y pense… “ I wagged a mock-reproving finger. “Anyway, get her one on my tab, please – but bring it to me.” There was a vacant table nearby, and I sat down, spellbound, to watch Cindy and her partner dancing.

By the time Chloe departed with my order, Ro had put aside her saxophone and was singing the reprise of the song, signalling the approaching end of the number. Her voice was full of the husky vibrancy for which she is renowned, and her subtle phrasing and embroidering of the melody gave the words a capacity to tear at the heart.

… I’m not half the girl I used to be…

As the final cadence died away, Cindy and her partner, like the other dancing couples, broke their embrace to join in the applause. I was expecting that they would stay together after dancing like that – her partner was an attractive young woman – bur instead Cindy said something to her, she smiled and nodded, and the two hugged briefly, exchanged kisses on the cheek, and then Cindy turned away from her towards me, with a smile that melted me instantly. As she approached, she crossed paths with Liz who was on her way to the bar with her colleagues, and had a brief conversation with her before continuing on her way to me. As she got nearer I saw that she too was braless beneath her semitransparent white blouse and big floppy red bow tie. I had often wondered what her naked breasts looked like, and the hint of their voluptuous firmness and large, dark areolae made me shiver.

She bent to kiss me on the mouth and then slipped into the chair beside me.

“Laura, this is such a wonderful surprise. You’re the last person I would have expected to see here on the prowl, what with that gorgeous Sue-Ann you were spending large on the other day.”

“I haven’t bought her,’ I said mock-ruefully. “She’s very much her own woman.”

“Ah, yes,” Cindy said meditatively. “And young. And sometimes needing the company of youth, no? And with beauty like hers, I would imagine she’s in hot demand.”

I couldn’t remember when I had last heard so many nails being hit on the head at once, so gently but at the same time so brutally. I suddenly wondered if she was speaking from hurtful experience. Being so much older than her myself, I had never thought of her in the role of older woman; but at thirty-whatever-she-was it was entirely conceivable.

“I’ve ordered you a drink,” I said, anxious not to dwell on the pain her words had awoken, “Chloe suggested a margarita would be in order, so I went with that.”

“Perfect, thank you.” She paused, giving me another heart-melting smile, then went on. “Isn’t it incredible – we’ve known each other for, what, twelve years? And this is the first time we’ve met outside the shop – simply as women together rather than as salesperson and customer. I’m surprised we haven’t met here before now." She let her hand come to rest on my thigh. "I’m so glad we have at last.”

“Me too.” The line I had disciplined myself never to cross for so many years had suddenly ceased to exist. “By the way, I hope you haven’t left that lovely young woman broken-hearted – the one you were dancing with...”

“Oh, Yolanda? No, she’s straight is that girl. We enjoy each other as dancing partners, but that’s all. She’s a wonderful dancer.”

I was surprised by the strength of the feeling of relief that filled me. “So are you, judging by what I saw.”

One of the girls from behind the bar arrived with our drinks. We clinked glasses and enjoyed a first sip in companionable silence. “And now,” she said at last, “tell me all about you and Sue-Ann.”

And I let it all spill out. I didn’t hold back in describing the sex, and I could see Cindy becoming aroused at my descriptions. When I related our session in the changing room she chuckled with a knowing smile.

“I guessed as much – the two of you looked as if you could hardly keep your hands off each other.”

“Oh my god, was it that obvious?”

She nodded. “Trust me! I thought the least I could do was give you a hint that a little discreet dalliance would be quite all right.”

I felt myself blushing furiously. “To think that we were so transparent – it’s so-o-o embarrassing!”

She squeezed my thigh comfortingly. “Believe me, you were super-discreet compared with some of the girly couples we get. Remember, when you’ve been in the business for as many years as I have, the body language gets to be like an open book – especially if you have gaydar like mine. I had you sussed years ago, by the way.”

Her face turned sober when I began to speak of the depth and strength of the impact Sue-Ann had had on me in such a short time, of how addicted to her I seemed to have become and how vulnerable this made me feel.

She knew. She understood. She had been there, with a young woman about Sue-Ann’s age. “To this day I don’t think Amy meant to hurt me. But the way she just moved on, as if all the passion between us had just been a peripheral incident in the grand scheme of her life – that hurt. My god how it hurt.”

She fell silent, the remembered pain all too visible on her lovely face. Then she brightened. “…but then I discovered that, after all, there was life after Amy. So I’d like to propose a toast.” She raised her glass. “Here’s to life after Sue-Ann.”

We touched glasses and drank; then she added quietly, “I’d like to be part of that life, Laura.”

Her words transfixed me as keenly as the steady gaze of her cornflower-blue eyes.

“Yes, Cindy,” I heard myself murmur. “I would like that, too.”

“Funny, isn’t it?” she went on at last. “In all these years that I've served you as a customer I would bet the professional me has probably seen about as much of your body as a lover would. I’ve always behaved professionally and properly, I hope.”

“Mmm, you have indeed. I’ve sometimes wished you hadn’t.”

“Well, the personal me hasn’t always been absent from the situation, and she hasn’t always wanted to behave properly. I’ve been able to keep her under control, that’s all.”

By this time The Sapphix had returned to the platform to start another set; Liz had seated herself at the piano and was already idly sketching some Debussy-esque harmonies and figurations. She glanced in our direction with one eyebrow raised questioningly, and Cindy nodded back. “I’ve put in a request,” she said. “This will be it. I’d like you to come and dance with me.” She tossed back the rest of her drink, stood up and held out her hand.

I too drained my glass and yielded a hand to her. The Sapphix launched into “Blue Moon” as I followed her onto the dance floor and surrendered to her embrace.

And she took possession of me. It was as if over the years the professional Cindy had built up a mental map of every curve, contour and crevice of my body, and now the personal Cindy had got hold of that map and was subtly exploring the terrain. Fingertips made surreptitious forays, gently probing, tracing lines on my skin and through the thin fabric of my dress; breasts brushed against mine through the material of our clothing, the friction on my nipples sending delicious pulses of sensation through me. From time to time the movement of a thigh or a hip rubbed briefly against my groin or my pubic mound, making my clit twitch and starting warm wellsprings of juice inside me.

"Close your eyes if you like," she murmured. "I'll steer."

By the time Ro had finished singing the song and was picking up her saxophone in preparation for the group’s first variation, I was already on a plateau of simmering pleasure from which I knew it wouldn’t take much to push me to the edge and beyond.

“Cindy, if you don’t stop this I’m going to cum, right here on this dance floor, in front of everyone. Please, Cindy…”

“Please, Cindy, what?” Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she ignored my protests. And I could protest no more. The struggle to hide my arousal from anyone watching was only adding to my excitement, but so too was the thought that others might actually see how aroused I was becoming.

Through three full variations of “Blue Moon”, she kept me on the plateau of arousal to which she had brought me. Then, with the fingertips of one hand she began to trace an intricate pattern of delight on the nape of my neck, my shoulders and shoulder blades, while the other hand started moving up and down my spine, reaching right down into the crevice between my buttocks. At the same time she gently eased one thigh between mine, and began a slow, barely perceptible twisting movement of her body, her breasts rubbing more insistently against mine while her thigh applied a gentle, rolling, side-to-side pressure against my mound, a soft pressure that was instantly transmitted to my clit. I bit my lips together to suppress a sudden strong impulse to moan aloud.

She must have sensed the currents of feeling that were coursing ever more strongly through me, must have known I was close. “Cum for me, darling,” she whispered into my ear, “Hold onto me. Trust me, I’ll make sure you don’t fall over. Cum, darling, cum for Cindy! Cum now!”

If it had not been for her supporting me in a strong embrace I think I would have collapsed in a quivering heap as my orgasm tore through me. The muscles in my belly, buttocks and thighs went into rigid spasm, thrusting my mound against her thigh. I buried my face in the hollow of her neck and my arms and hands clamped behind her back, holding on desperately for support.

I had just about recovered my breath, and Ro had put her saxophone down and was singing the reprise of “Blue Moon”, when I felt Cindy’s hands grip my buttocks tight, pulling my hips towards her and pressing my right thigh against her sex, and heard her whisper quietly but urgently: “Hold me tight, please, Laura, I’m close, oh god I’m so close, oh darling, I’m going to cum – hold me! Oh god, I’m - aaahhh…,!”

I braced myself to support her weight as she thrust herself against me, rubbing her crotch hard against my thigh. I looked around the dance floor; fortunately it was full of couples entwined as intimately as we were, so it seemed there was a chance our activity hadn’t been noticed.

But when we got back to our table, there was Chloe, holding a glass out to each of us. “Darlings, you must need a drink after all that. On the house, with your tabs for tonight wiped clean as a thank-you for such a lovely show!”

“Oh my god, Chloe, do you think everyone saw us?” Cindy didn’t sound anything like as agitated as I felt.

“I doubt it. You need a practiced hankypanky-spotting eye like mine. Viv and I were practically creaming our knickers watching you, though. We had no idea you two were such an item!”

“We weren’t until tonight,” I began.

“That's true,” Cindy chimed in, “but it’s been brewing for years, eh, Laura?”

“Mmm.” I nodded. We touched glasses and drank.

After Chloe had returned to the bar, Cindy said: “I walked here. I live quite close by. Will you come home with me?”

* * * 
As we walked to where I had parked my car, arms entwined about each other, memories began to flood into my head of times when I had masturbated to fantasies of fucking her, when I had cried her name aloud in the throes of orgasm. In no time at all I was helplessly adrift on a rising, surging tide of sheer animal lust. We passed a deeply recessed shop doorway, and I pulled her into its shadowy shelter, muttering “Oh god, Cindy, I can’t wait, I want you, I wanna fuck you right now!”

“Yes, Laura, fuck me please! Here! Now! Quickly!”

I knelt down, pulled off her pants and her cum-sodden thong, pressing it to my face and stuffing some of the fabric into my mouth to taste what I could of her love-dew. Then I greedily licked at the dried juice that had trickled down her thighs back on the dance floor. At last, pushing her thighs and labia apart, I plunged my tongue greedily into her savorous, warm, wanting wetness. She shivered and moaned and seized my head with both hands, pressing my face deeper into her, thrusting with her hips at the same time, emitting explosive guttural grunts, ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh, in time with her thrusts, until suddenly she gave a long-drawn-out, shuddering growl, and I felt her whole body convulse as cum gushed out from her all over my face, hair and shoulders.

I removed my own thong and stood up, pulling my dress up to my armpits. She had unbuttoned her blouse, and I pinned her against the wall, rubbing my naked breasts against hers.

I knew what I wanted to do next, and I knew I was so driven by lust that I would find the strength to do it. I cupped her buttocks with a firm grip, got her to put her arms tightly round my neck, swing her legs up and clasp me round the waist, and hold on. Then, leaning towards the wall as I took her weight, I began to thrust with my hips.

I started slowly, both of us searching for the right point and angle of contact and for a mutual rhythm. Then at last we found what we needed, grinding on each other’s engorged clits, my gaping wetness pushing and sucking at hers, hers at mine.

I heard her groan “Yes… Ohhh yesss!!!” – and that triggered me to begin thrusting harder and faster. Soon the build-up of force and pace was out of my control; I was driven by a rutting frenzy that I knew would not let go of me until I had reached complete satiety and fulfilment of the deepest and strongest need I had ever known. I was dimly aware too that the animal noises Cindy and I were making must be audible throughout the near neighbourhood, but I didn’t care – if anything, the knowledge probably fed my growing arousal.

Afterwards, as the two of us sat in a state of complete dishevelment at Cindy’s kitchen table, drinking ice-cold beer straight from the bottle accompanied by generous tots of Glenmorangie single malt, we looked back in shared wonderment at that elementally passionate, animal coupling, whose shattering climax had left us collapsed in an exhausted heap in the shop doorway.

The sense of wonder was spiced with laughter at an incident that had occurred just after we had managed to stagger to my car and were sitting recovering our breath and putting our clothes into some semblance of order.

A police car had appeared and stopped outside the shop. Two officers had got out and shone lights into the doorway and through the front window. Then they had got back into the car and driven up to where we were parked, stopping just behind my car. One officer had come to speak to me.

“Good evening, madam – er, ladies. I wonder if you could help us.”

“Hello, officer. Yes, of course, if we can.”

“Well, we had a message that a resident had phoned in complaining about some kind of – er, rumpus - in the vicinity of that shop back there, but we’ve just looked, and there doesn’t seem to be any sign of anything having happened. Except for – er – this…” He had raised a hand to display my thong dangling from his thumb and forefinger.

“God, Laura,” Cindy recalled, replenishing my glass, “you were priceless. Oh, goodness gracious me, officer…what is that object?… no, we never saw or heard a thing...”

I raised the glass. “Here’s to our next  er, rumpus…” We giggled as we drank.

“Seriously, though, we must have made quite a racket,” I added.

“You stunned me, Laura. I mean, even before we had our first – er - dance, I’d guessed that behind your very proper exterior you might well be a very sexual woman, but I just wasn’t prepared for the you I’ve met tonight. God, you’re so fucking strong, so awesomely powerful. The way you lifted me up and pussy-pounded me… You just – you just took me by storm. I’ll have to call you Cyclone Laura…”

What was it Sue-Ann had said? It just blew me away that you were so spontaneous, so hungry. I didn’t expect it somehow, because you’re, well, such a proper lady...

“Well, I didn’t know that me either.," I confessed. "I’ve never been like that with anyone. Not even with Sue-Ann. I’ve no idea where that me popped up from.”

“Helluva  pop!” Cindy giggled.

“All I can think of is, it must have been the company that lured her out of the closet.” I blew her a kiss, which she instantly returned.

“I mean to say,” I went on, “I’d fancied you for years, so maybe tonight was a release of all that long-pent-up desire.”

“Same here, perhaps.” We leaned across the table and our mouths met in a scotch-flavoured kiss. “Talking of company,” she said musingly, “have you ever had a threesome? An all-women one, I mean.?”

“Yes, I have. And very much enjoyed it.” I told her about my triangular relationship with Megan and Helen. In the middle of doing so, I saw a dawning expression of mischievous interest on her face. “Cindy!” I exclaimed. “You’re not thinking of you and me and…?”

“…Sue-Ann? Absolutely. You know how attracted to her I felt. And the sex between you and her is pretty fabulous from what you tell me. Between you and me it's been absolutely awesome already. So…?”

“I don’t know, Cindy. I love you both, and you both arouse me enormously, but in different ways. Bringing those two different lovings together might confuse me… And anyway, she might not want to. All the same, though…” In my mind’s eye I had a sudden, clit-teasing vision of Cindy and Sue-Ann ecstatically entwined. "...it's a tempting thought."

“It is, isn’t it? Perhaps if we ever do it, though, we should make sure we do it somewhere else, not in Christchurch. It could have seismic consequences.”

“Maybe in Wellington. Time those bloody politicians got a shaking-up.”

“Shit, yeah – I’ll drink to that!”

Later we showered together, lovingly washed and dried each other’s hair, gave each other several comparatively gentle but deeply satisfying orgasms on the way, and eventually went to bed, where passion flared up into another er, rumpus before we drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. I woke before six the next morning to find Cindy already up and immaculate in her work clothes, making breakfast. We greeted each other in a long kiss that was not physically deep but was profoundly intimate, and when our eyes met it was as if we were looking into each other’s souls.

“Enjoy your trip with Sue-Ann,” she said softly. I’ll be thinking of you. Both of you. And I won’t be jealous – you know that, don’t you?”

Yes, I knew. What had brought Cindy and me together was beyond petty thoughts of jealous possession. We had become part of the bedrock of each other’s lives. Yes indeed, much as I loved and lusted after Sue-Ann, I drove home that morning feeling secure in the knowledge that there would indeed be life after however much of her time she might give me. Now I would be able to enjoy her without reserve or insecurity, without fear of the loss that would inevitably come one day.

(See Part 2 for more about Cindy Mayhew and her part in Laura's life hitherto )