Marie had poured her morning coffee, but not yet begun to drink it, when there was a knock at the door that sounded like thunder in her ears. She was a little hung over, having indulged in more than a bottle of expensive French wine the night before in her mistress's absence. Moving as quickly as she could, lest the knock come again, she went to the door. Opening it she found Samantha Bowman, looking annoyingly chipper and put-together for this hour of the morning.
She motioned soundlessly for Samantha to enter, led her to the kitchen, and gestured toward the coffee. "No thanks," said Samantha. "I only have a few minutes. Is Jessica around?"
Sipping her coffee, Marie shook her head. "Stayed in the city last night."
"Oh." Samantha sounded disappointed. "Well, I guess it'll have to wait."
Marie held the cup in both hands and took a long, slow pull. Already her head was starting to clear a little. "What did you want to talk to her about?"
"My yoga teacher."
"What about her?"
"She's the most exquisite creature I've ever seen. Six feet tall, blonde, ripped, tits till Tuesday... but I can't figure out how to approach her."
"Hmm," purred Marie, sipping, the wheels already starting to turn in her head. "What's her name?"
* * *
Serena was usually completely self-assured, but she was a little nervous as she approached the house. There had been something mysterious and alluring in the voice of the woman who had called her that morning, offering a very nice sum for a private yoga lesson. It wasn't just the French accent, though that certainly helped... everything that came out of her mouth sounded sexy, even when she was giving the address.
Maybe I'm a little oversensitized, Serena thought. She hadn't been in a relationship for a while, since her last boyfriend turned out to be a lying, manipulative asshole masquerading as a spiritual, sensitive type. This had shaken her to the core, though outwardly it would have been hard to tell. She'd been celibate since then, for the longest period in her adult life. She was ready to change that, but men were often intimidated by her and rarely made an approach. She'd thought about a few of the women in her class -- some of them were tremendously sexy, and Serena had been bisexual since her teens -- but she was reluctant to cross that line.
When she rang the doorbell, it was answered by a very attractive young brunette in a white bathrobe. "Serena?"
It was the woman she'd talked to on the phone; even from a single word, there was no mistaking it. "Are you Marie?"
"Oui," answered the brunette coquettishly. "Entrez."