Jayne's Intro.
Though not critical, I strongly suggest that you read this long, seven part story in chronological order. Not only will you then see how I drifted towards my lesbian lifestyle and why that was, but also the reasons why I did that.
Most of all, though, do enjoy my story,
Love
Jayne x
Having spent most of my career in the ad industry I'd kept up with my contacts after retiring in my early-forties although I'm still not sure why I did that, retire that is as I have regretted it ever since! I was, however, able to keep my hand in and stop myself going insane or turning to drink or random sex by handling some freelance projects from home and having odd spells of basic copywriting in a couple of agencies. Having missed the fervid, highly-charged atmosphere and the camaraderie and banter of agency life I really enjoyed those periods of going back to work albeit usually for only short periods.
"So how was your week?" I asked Jessy a young art director I'd been paired with on a few modest sized account for an agency that was run by a guy who used to work for me.
"Fucking awful," she replied, flashing me a lovely smile that rather worryingly reminded me of Lindsay who had a month or so ago moved in with her longer-term lover and now business partner causing our regular sessions that I thought of as a hair wank and two blow jobs, to end. I'd had three or four meetings with Jess and I'd impressed her with my copywriting that, for such an oldie, she felt was very on the mark and up to date, rare praise indeed from such a youngster!
Jessy was truly gorgeous. She had long, corn-blonde hair that she often wore down or, as it was today, in bunches and sometimes in pigtails which made her look much younger than the early twenties I had been told she was.
Around six one evening, when she slid through the door into the Creative Director's office that I was using for the time I was in the agency, a surge of unwanted lust ran through me and I gulped when I saw what she was wearing. Mike, the CD an old work colleague and near lover had mentioned that the kids in the agency were becoming more and more outrageous in their get ups, "We seem to have got a group of particularly tasty young birds in there all at the same time and they try to outdo each other. It's like going into a fucking brothel," he'd told me a while ago.
"Is there any other sort"? I quipped back.
"What?" he replied clearly not getting my joke.
"Oh never mind and in any case what do you know about brothels?" I asked to which he didn't reply.
She was wearing a thin, pale blue with orange markings skirt that came to mid-thigh and had a slight flare so that when she moved or bent over she almost flashed her knickers and certainly showed most of her gorgeously long, tanned legs. On top she was wearing a simple, white, cotton blouse through which the outline of her bra could be seen. It had buttons all the way up the front, with one more undone at the neck than there really should have been hence, giving occasional glimpses of the deepish cleavage between her quite full breasts. She was wearing the blouse outside the waist of the skirt with some of the lower buttons undone, thus occasionally giving flashes of her bare waist and tummy. Around her neck she was wearing one of those highly fashionable at the time, very long multi-string necklaces with beads, little squares and round pieces of what looked like glass and other bits and bobs attached to it. As she moved it rattled and some of the necklace slid inside the blouse and some stayed outside often resting on one of her boobs with some of the hanging things slipping between them. Her long, dangly earrings matched the necklace and as they also swayed around there was a lot going on when I looked at her. Her legs were bare but unlike many youngsters she was wearing heels, albeit not very high ones like mine.
Considering she was working in the creative department of the agency where there are few if any rules and certainly no dress code, she was dressed smartly and quite conservatively whereas I was wearing a white silk tee shirt under a pink, vee-neck, cashmere sweater with tight blue jeans.
"Drink?" I asked.
"Lovely, yes please. So that's what you bigwigs do behind closed doors after hours is it?" She smiled as I poured two glasses of wine and walked across the office to where she was sitting on the long couch and handed it to her.
"Oh you'd be so surprised Jessy what goes on in here," I said smiling down at her as she looked up at me with her face just about level with my lower stomach, I couldn't help thinking.
"Would I?" She replied seriously as she looked straight into my eyes.
"So why was it so fucking awful?" I asked propping myself on the edge of Mike's huge power-desk with my legs stretched out before me pointing at where she was on the sofa.
Since my husband had finally persuaded me to agree to have sex with a woman as he watched which I hadn't done as it was down to him to arrange it, I had become more interested in my bisexual persona that had lain dormant since my late and early-twenties before I met him. After we'd been married a while I had rather foolishly told him about my girly escapades when I was at uni and then when I Iived in the US for a year or so. Regularly, but infrequently since then, he'd raised the topic and for several years now he'd been onto me as we had pillow talk after sex to go with one as he watched. My refusal and saying that I was only into men now didn't deter him but was probably the reason why he changed and asked me to have sex with a guy as he watched and about a year ago, he finally wore me down and I'd half agreed to do that. He hadn't come up with a woman, though he did with a guy which didn't come off, but he had rekindled my interest in the bisexual side of my sexuality and I'd had two flings with women since then without his knowledge.
"Oh I broke up with my boyfriend, had a smack in my car and had a massive row with my mum."
"Oh dear, that sounds tough," I said walking behind the settee where she was sitting to the bar and picked up the wine bottle, "You still live at home then?"
"Yes, with a forty grand student loan to repay I need to for a year or so, I only get a fucking pittance here until I finish training and, hopefully get a permanent post."
"Yes they do that on purpose to test the grads sticking power, or so HR says."
"It's bloody terrible for my sex and social lives, living at home."
"Yes it must be."
"I have had more shags in more bedsits and been half undressed in the backs of more cars in the last year than when I was at uni," she laughed adding quickly, "Just joking boss."
As a vision of her half undressed on the back seat of a car, as I had been several times in my teens swept into my mind I replied, "I'm hardly your boss Jess, I don't even work here," as I topped up her glass looking over her shoulders from behind and down her slim body and legs where her skirt had ridden well up almost to show her panties. 'God she's so attractive and so fucking sexy' filled my mind as I ogled the lovely sight and wondered if there was any chance of something happening between us. Mentally slapping my hand I tried hard to push such thoughts from my mind but as I looked down at her from behind and sipped my wine, I failed completely to do that. In fact, the failure was so poor that as I looked down at her the blouse and skirt seemed to vanish and she was sitting there in her underwear!
My mind again went back to those early times with Melissa and a couple of others at uni before I was married and to that amazing sexual education and experiences I had with them. Until Lindsay, my ex-hair-stylist, had surprised me during some pillow talk by telling me that pretty much all the younger women who worked in the salon had done something with other girls and, of course, with my current enhanced interest I wondered what Jessy had got up to? As an afterthought, I also wondered about my daughter Sara who was now in her late teens and having left school with great A level grades was about to go travelling during her gap year.
Casting such thoughts or, were they hopes I wondered, from my mind I said, jokingly "Well I do have a spare bedroom in Docklands," adding, "Yours for a small fee any time and you can er entertain there for I'm at the house most weekends though I'm staying at the tonight as my husband's away on business and it saves me fighting my way through the traffic in the mornings and evenings."
"I might take you up on that sometime, but then I'm now off men," she replied adding, "I thought you lived out in Barnet or up that way somewhere or that's what the office grapevine says."
I was still standing behind where she was sitting on the low couch with her bare, tanned legs stretched out before her. I rested my hand on the back of the sofa, just inches from her back as I replied. "Yes that's where Kevin and I live but we bought a flat in Docklands when they were almost giving them away after the credit crunch but then, you wouldn't remember that it was in two thousand and nine and ten."
"Well I have read about it and Docklands sounds great why don't you rent it out?"
"We let it as an air bnb now and then but Kevin likes to keep it flexible as he uses it if he has a late night in town and doesn't fancy the schlep out to Totteridge or," I paused not sure whether to tell her or not so I hedged my bets by saying, "He has a guest or a er, um friend he wants to put up but he doesn't use it that often."
"That's not too far, nowhere near as far as Chelmsford where I live."
"Well the offer stands Jessy, anytime you've been out on the town and don't fancy the slog out to Essex let me know and if it's available it's yours."
"Is going out on the town first an essential?" She asked looking sideways at my hand resting on the back of the couch beside her shoulder. I don't know what prompted me or gave me the courage, but I slid my hand along the sofa so that my fingers were almost touching her back as I replied, rather hoarsely, "No Jessy, you could use it any time that you don't fancy the journey home or should you want somewhere private with a boyfriend."
My hand was just inches from her shoulder. I wanted to stroke it, but I couldn't pluck up the courage to make that move so, instead where she was leaning forward a little, I slid my hand behind her back. Turning her head, looking up at me and smiling, she leaned back so that she was pressed against my hand. I didn't know whether it was an accident or whether she was showing out and giving me a sign. I was quickly learning that pulling a woman is fraught with far more challenges than a man but was it me pulling her or her tempting me, I was wondering when she didn't lean forward away from my hand.
"The trip to Chelmsford can be rather a tiresome," she said holding my gaze as she went on, "Especially after a long day in the agency."
I smiled as my heart started beating faster. Was she wanting to stay tonight I wondered enjoying the feel of her back against my hand and purposely not moving it from where it was squashed between her and the back of the couch? It hit me that she must have known she was pressing against it and that it wasn't a coincidence that it was where it was right behind her.
"Especially on a late Friday night Jessy," I managed to say as I wiggled my hand a little enjoying and being thrilled by the feel of her body against it.
"Yes Jayne, especially then and does it have to be with a boyfriend?" she replied putting the emphasis on boy as she moved her back slightly against my hand trapping it tighter between her back and the sofa. By doing that she as good as confirmed to me and acknowledged that she knew what was going on between us as she said, "I mean now, not then, I know how particular you copy types are with the use of your words."
I laughed, "Then or now doesn't matter and of course not by yourself or with a girlfriend or whatever would be fine."
"So do you or, would you is probably more accurate, need much notice Jayne?"
"No not really, not usually, we have someone look after it so the beds are always changed and everything's stocked up and in good order."
