Four Weeks

This story is based on lesbian love, seduction, reluctance and coercion. It is fantasy, for the enjoyment of people who take pleasure in such themes. But if this type of storyline is not for you, thank you for stopping by but please pass on.

JENNY

Jenny Walker walked out of the shower room and into the bedroom. The plush carpet cushioned her bare feet as she crossed towards the floor-length mirror in the corner. It was the same mirror which used to make their lovemaking sizzle as she and Annabelle watched their sexy reflections as they fucked on their king-sized bed.

Sadly, those days seemed a long time ago...

She dropped the fluffy white towel to the floor and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her body was in better shape than she'd ever been in her life. Her dark nipples sat beautifully high on her full breasts and her flat stomach was actually showing the beginnings of a six-pack. All those hours spent in the gym were definitely paying off.

So why didn't Annabelle find her attractive anymore?

How long had it been since they had been intimate? She couldn't remember. It wasn't as if they had argued or fallen out, but the long hours her girlfriend was working had led to them spending less time together. When they did, Annabelle was always too tired or stressed to do anything other than sleep.

Her eyes drifted lower to her thin black landing strip. She'd often thought of going bare but her girlfriend had never been in favour. She had always said that look was for sluts. Maybe it was ... but in her recent masturbatory fantasies that was exactly how Jenny depicted herself—a clean shaven slut.

Edie Phillips featured regularly in those fantasies, too. That was even more worrying.

The black dyke was in her mid-forties—twice Jenny's age—and there was something about her that was undeniably hot. She wasn't particularly attractive, though she had curves in all the right places and the way she swung her exquisite ass as she walked gave Jenny thoughts she shouldn't be having.

She had come on to her ever since she had secured the job at the clothing manufacturer and despite the constant knock-backs, had refused to take no for an answer. Persistence was her middle name.

It was the same sort of persistence that Annabelle had shown after they had first met. What was it about being targeted and hunted that turned Jenny on so much? Her girlfriend had chased her for a couple of months before she'd succumbed and once they'd got together they couldn't keep their hands off one another. They'd fucked whenever they'd got together and had even gone down on one another in public places a few times.

The danger of being discovered had always added to their excitement.

It was one of the few things they had in common. Jenny had dark hair. Her girlfriend was blonde. She was slim and athletic. Annabelle was curvaceous. She was all innocence. Her girlfriend was worldly-wise. She was a humble secretary. Annabelle was a young journalist trying to make a name for herself.

That was part of the problem. Annabelle was working long hours on a 'top secret' story that left her with little time—or energy—for anything else. As a result, Jenny was left feeling undesirable and unwanted. Thank God for her vibe, even if it was a poor second to a woman's touch.

If Annabelle didn't fuck her soon she'd go out of her mind...

The buzz of her mobile phone brought her back to the present. She checked the caller ID and a shiver ran across her body. The message was from Edie Phillips. Meet me for a drink tonight?

She was being hunted again. Her entire body began to tingle. Resistance was much more difficult when she was so sexually frustrated.

Her mind flittered back to that office party. She had had way too much to drink and with Annabelle enjoying herself on the dance floor, she'd gone out onto the balcony for some fresh air. Edie had instantly cornered her.

"You've been shooting me that look all evening, honey," she'd told her. "The one that says come fuck me..."

She'd tried to object ... to explain that Edie was wrong. She was just letting down her hair and having a good time. But she was no match for the older woman. Edie had stepped closer and trapped her against the wall.

"A hot little thing with full breasts like yours makes butches like me crazy."

Jenny hated herself for responding to the words. And to the kiss that followed. It had been hot, wet and demanding. And she hadn't been able to resist when Edie had slid her hand under the hem of her dress. She'd been there for the taking and the black dyke had read the signs perfectly.

But the approaching voices had made them quickly separate and before Edie could take advantage again she'd come to her senses and fled the scene.

She shook her head to wipe away the recollection and glanced at her naked reflection in the mirror again. What would Edie Phillips do if she could see her now? The illicit thought made her feel weak at the knees. Her nipples were hard and the tell-tale signs of arousal were evident between her legs.

For a brief second, she thought of grabbing her vibe and doing herself there and then ... but Annabelle's voice was floating up the stairs.

"Jen, have you seen that file I was reading in bed last night?"

She hurried up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"Dammit, I can't find it anywhere. It must be—"

"I put it on the top of your dresser," Jenny wearily replied.

Once upon a time Annabelle would have thrown her on the bed and instantly ravished her if she'd seen her naked. Now, she didn't give her more than a cursory glance. A newspaper story was more important than she was.

She watched as her blonde girlfriend hurried across the room. No thanks. No kiss. Not even a hug. She simply grabbed the file and hurried from the room as quickly as she'd arrived.

"I'll have to get a move on or I'll be late," she shouted as she headed back down the stairs.

Jenny sighed as she listened to the sound of the front door closing.

Then she picked up her mobile phone and began to type a reply...

*

Jenny shouldn't be here. She knew that. Ever since she'd replied to Edie she'd told herself she shouldn't have agreed to meet her for a drink. She had almost changed her mind half a dozen times but when evening came it was too late and she'd had to go through with it.

As it had turned out, things had gone even better than she had anticipated and her early nerves had left her a long time ago. She'd been prepared for Edie coming on strong with her and told herself wouldn't have stood for any such nonsense. But the older woman had surprised her. She'd showered her with compliments ... how stunning she looked in that short black dress ... how perfect her make-up was ... that her brown eyes sparkled.

This was a completely different Edie Phillips to the one who had confronted her at the party. That one had been a hungry animal searching out its prey. This one was less direct. She was letting Jenny come to her. When she told her how beautiful she looked tonight, Jenny almost melted. It was as if Edie had known she desperately needed the attention, compliments and affection.

As the evening had worn on, she had begun to relax more and more. Even when Edie subtly became more direct after a few drinks, she felt okay.

The way the older woman's eyes began to sweep over her body gave her goosebumps. Who wouldn't want her—apart from Annabell, that was. She was attractive, she was desirable. When Edie became more tactile, gently touching her arm, leg or thigh while they talked, she allowed it to happen. Why not? It was harmless enough and her touch was warm and reassuring.

"So..." the older woman said, bringing her out of her thoughts.

Jenny smiled at her. Edie had left her hand on her thigh this time and she decided not to make a fuss and remove it. They were in public, nothing could happen here. Besides, the contrast in colour between the black woman's hand and her own pale skin looked surprisingly exotic.

"I sense that everything isn't well between you and your girlfriend. Would I be right?"

Jenny felt her heart suddenly rise in anticipation of where the conversation might be going. She wasn't ready for this. Thoughts of Annabelle made her feel sad. She was enjoying herself with Edie. Why spoil it?

"What makes you say that?" she settled for saying.

"Instinct."

Jenny paused before replying and shuffled uncomfortably on her chair. She wanted to cross her legs but Edie's hand remained on her thigh.

"It's none of my business, honey," the older woman huskily continued.

The very tips of her fingertips began to move in almost imperceptible circles, just grazing Annabelle's skin. It felt reassuring and sensual at the same time.

"But in my experience it sometimes helps to have someone to talk to. Someone who cares about you? Why don't you tell Edie all about it?"

Jenny picked up her drink, playing for time. She swirled the dark liquid in its martini glass, trying to focus on what this woman was saying, rather than the sensations the fingers on her bare thigh were creating.

It had been so long since Annabelle had touched her. Too long...

It didn't help that her head was buzzing. The martinis Edie had ordered had been unbelievably strong and she'd had too many for her own good.

When the hand suddenly left her skin she glanced back at the black woman, wanting it back on her thigh again. Edie crossed her legs as she sat back on her seat and waited for a response. She casually swung one foot back and forward, her black shoe dangling sexily from her toes.

Jenny managed to pull her mesmerised glance away but only found Edie's deep cleavage. The front zip of her tight black top was pulled far enough down to expose a healthy proportion of her large black breasts. Even through the top she could see her nipples pushing against the fabric. Would they be chocolate brown? She'd always wondered.

Warning signals went off in her head.

Damn, what was she thinking? She closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts. She was ogling Edie rather than the other way around.

"It seems to me," the older woman said, casually pulling her black hair onto the top of her head and then sexily allowing it to cascade onto her shoulders. "That you're not getting any. Is that right? No woman should go without. Right?"

Too damn right, Jenny thought, wondering how Edie could tell. Was she that transparent? Dammit, she was almost aching with need. Maybe she needed to get home before she lost it. Suddenly bashful, she glanced down at her glass and then raised it to her lips and swallowed the rest of the drink in one gulp.

It burned her throat but gave her the courage she needed to open up.

"I ... we ... Annabelle is particularly busy at the moment, that's all. It's just meant we haven't spent much time together. Things will change when everything settles down..."

She stopped herself, wondering if she really believed what she was saying. She'd always thought so but now she just didn't know any longer.

"I'm sure they will..."

Edie leant forward as she spoke and rested her chin on her palm. She stared so deeply into Jenny's brown eyes it was as if she could read every thought.

"But until then you need to get laid. It's written all over your face. You need it real bad if you ask me. And as long as you're discreet, where's the harm?

Jenny stared back at her, trying to make sense of the words. A faint blush covered her cheeks. Edie made it sound so simple. But it wasn't. Was it?

"Look, honey, what I'm saying is true," the woman continued. "It's just sex, after all. Even animals do it. Every woman deserves to be made to feel good. You'll be much more able to cope with your problems after you've had some loving, believe me. And if Annabelle isn't interested..."

She paused long enough to let the implication sink in.

Jenny felt the tears building along her eyelashes. She couldn't be unfaithful to Annabelle. But things couldn't go on like this for much longer. Besides, Edie wasn't really saying anything she hadn't been thinking recently.

How many times had she masturbated thinking of other women? That redhead who worked in the clothes shop just across the street from the office ... the curly haired young woman she'd spoken to in the shoe shop ... and then there was the woman sitting opposite her...

"I ... I don't know..."

"But you do." Edie took her hand in hers. "Don't you?"

Jenny sniffed. If she was honest with herself then everything Edie was saying made sense. But she was confused again. This woman had always perfectly fitted her image of an out-and-out dyke and she had expected her to come heavily onto her tonight. This softer side had taken her off guard.

"You should think about it," Edie told her. She turned her head towards the waiter and called for the bill with a wave of her hand. "It's your life, honey and I'm sure you can figure it out without my advice."

*

Jenny rested her head back against the seat in the rear of the taxi and closed her eyes. Edie had been so thoughtful, insisting on them sharing a cab. Her head was spinning ... too much alcohol ... and too many thoughts.

Her eyes sprung open as she suddenly felt a hand on her thigh again.

"You okay, honey?" Edie softly asked.

Jenny smiled and nodded. It felt like too much trouble to speak. For the first time in quite a while someone had taken a real interest in her. That made her feel better than she had in a while. She wasn't alone.

Edie was even more attractive than she'd previously thought. With her curvy body and sassy attitude, she'd always thought of her as hot, even if she had brushed off her attentions. But those full red lips looked so ... well, kissable. And there was such a sexual intensity in the gaze Edie had fixed on her that Jenny felt the heat between her thighs.

"You're sure?"

Jenny nodded again. Those caressing fingers felt so comforting on her skin. When Edie shuffled her body and moved a little closer, she felt goosebumps break out on her skin. The older woman's gaze had never left hers and way she was looking at her was like a starving animal needing to feed.

"I've seen that look before, honey."

Jenny stared back, confused.

"Look? What look?"

God, even her words were slurred. Her glance dropped back into Edie's cleavage. Her zip hadn't been pulled that far down in the wine bar, had it? Even in the dim light in the back of the taxi, she could clearly see the lacy black bra. Her breasts were practically spilling over the top.

When her eyes slowly drew upwards into Edie's again, the woman smiled.

"It's the same look you gave me at the office party."

Jenny didn't answer. How could she? What could she say? A flush ran up her neck. The office party. That office party.

"You know what I think?"

Jenny stared at her. Those fingers on her thigh had somehow pushed under the hem of her dress. She had somehow widened her legs, inviting them in. How had that happened?

"I think we have some unfinished business..."

Jenny rested her head back against the seat and tried to focus. Holding on to all of her good intentions was just so difficult. She closed her eyes. If she couldn't see what was happening, she couldn't blame herself. Edie was suddenly so close that she could feel the woman's hot breath on her cheek.

"I only want to make you feel good," the soft voice was murmuring in her ear. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

The fingers were between her legs now. When they gently brushed against her black thong, Jenny could hear her own breath coming out in panted gasps.

Lips softly touched hers.

She turned her head and sought them out with her open mouth. The kiss was exactly as she remembered from the party—hot, wet and demanding. In the darkness behind her closed eyelids, it seemed as if every sense was heightened. Her chest began to rise and fall as if she was about to hyperventilate.

As the probing fingers pushed her material of thong aside she widened her legs, inviting them in. She was so wet. Two fingertips stroked her labia and she groaned. When they twisted and pushed their way inside, her body shuddered and she let out a long, needy moan.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," the voice repeated for a second time.

But they both knew she didn't. She needed this.

The fingers inside her were moving with such a deliciously teasing slowness that she moaned out loud again. And again. She could hear herself. She couldn't stop moaning. It suddenly occurred to her that the noise would have alerted the driver and he was probably watching in his driving mirror. But that only added fuel to the fire. She and Annabelle used to love having sex in public places. And they had done much worse than this in the back of a taxi.

But then the fingers were pulling away...

No!!!

Her eyes burst open in time to see Edie pulling the hem of her dress back into position and moving away. Her knowing eyes remained on Jenny as she settled back in her seat, smiling at the disappointment on the younger girl's face.

"I always knew you'd taste this good," she purred softly, lewdly feeding her juice covered fingers to her mouth.

She made a show of sucking on them, one after the other. Her tongue sexily ran up and down each digit before flicking across her full lips.

She let out a contented sigh as she tilted her head and brushed a piece of imaginary thread from her black top.

"It would be wrong of me to take advantage of you tonight, honey..." she quietly explained. "Not when you're feeling so confused. But we can meet up and talk again anytime."

ANNABELLE

Annabelle took a deep breath as she approached The Dorchester. This story was too important to fuck up. If she made a success of this, her life and career would change for the better. Without using those exact words Griff McAffrey—the best known editor in the newspaper industry—had as much as promised her that.

The task was straightforward. She had to make contact with Véronique Moreau and pose as a dancer looking for a job. The French woman was in charge of recruitment for Giuseppe Franco's chain of London clubs. If their suspicions were correct, the clubs were a front for a prostitution racket but suspicions were one thing and validating them was another.

Hence her going undercover.

Her short blue dress was the hottest she could find in her wardrobe. Hopefully it would get her noticed. Véronique Moreau was known to have a penchant for young women and the dress had assured she always received plenty of attention when she and Jenny went clubbing. Gosh, they hadn't done that for ages.

There was no doubt the story had got in the way of her and Jenny's relationship. That hadn't been fair but it had to be done. She'd been working eighteen hours a day for the last month or so, helping fit all the pieces together. Not that she'd been able to tell her girlfriend that. They were sworn to secrecy. If a word of the investigation leaked out the paper would be compromised.

She caught sight of her reflection in the glass frontage and pulled her coat a little closer around her body. Was the dress really that revealing? The last thing she needed was for anyone to get the wrong idea.

Once inside the hotel she headed for the bar. There were two unoccupied tables and she took one of them, ordering a glass of red wine from the attentive waiter. Crossing her legs, she pulled the hem of her dress as far down her thighs as she could while she perfected her story in her mind.

It had to be believable enough for Véronique Moreau to buy it.

It was a good hour before the French woman arrived and the blonde reporter blew out a sigh of relief. She was on her second glass and had been attracting unwanted glances from a group of rowdy guys gathered around the long bar. Even the concierge had begun to take notice of her from across the lobby.