There were days when Jasmine wished she wasn't so into music. A song for every occasion, that was her, and this occasion was just reeking Hot Chocolate... "It started with a kiss...never thought that it would come to this..." - the whole appropriate song thing was making her nervous as she waited for her guest to arrive...
Two months earlier Jasmine had been out to dinner with some of the ladies from work. It seemed innocent enough; they ate, had a lot of laughs, danced and got a little drunk. The taxi ride home was her downfall.
They were the last two to be dropped off as they lived around two blocks from each other. Debs invited her in for coffee, which Jasmine accepted -- Paul had offered to come and pick her up if she stopped at Deborah's place as usual. Coffee, chat, more laughing, then the movie on TV got a little heated -- two extremely beautiful women started to kiss, and kiss with passion. Jasmine was captivated...and Debs watched her with a smile on her face. As the scene continued, Debs walked over to Jasmine, took her drink and set it down on the coffee table, and taking Jasmine's beautiful face in her hands she kissed her in the same way...passionate, sensual, arousing kisses. Jasmine's heart started beating at a rate of knots, and she responded...then Debs pulled away and started to laugh... "I've always wanted to kiss another woman," she laughed, "and I am drunk enough to try, 'speshally as the most gorjussssss woman I know is with me. Don't think I'll try anything else though..." she smiled sheepishly.
That night when Paul got her home, she was a wildcat -- Debs had made her so hot. Paul ended up exhausted, and Jasmine was finally satisfied enough to attempt sleep. She spent the weekend trying to get it out of her mind, until she realised that she wanted more. "I wonder if Debs would be interested in trying out something else," she thought to herself.
The most disturbing thing about the whole situation was that Debs had been too drunk to remember it -- or she was pretending to be. No chance of anything there. Fuck. She was so stuck on this idea it was beginning to affect her work, particularly when Debs walked into the room. She had to do something to sort it out; she decided to take action, arranged a day off and then made a few calls.
So here she was, in a classy hotel room waiting for...company. So nervous she was almost shaking, she was pacing the room, moving around and going a bit stir crazy.
Jasmine was a gorgeous Fijian Indian woman who'd been living in Auckland for most of her life. She was around 5'9" high, had chocolate brown skin, and all the womanly curves a man -- or woman -- could want in her lover. Slender without being skinny, she turned heads whenever she walked into a room. Wearing a summer dress with matching red lace lingerie -- which looked incredible against her dark skin, she thought to herself, "I am dressed to seduce but sugarcoated with innocence."
There was a knock on the door.
Jasmine had found her on a website -- an escorts website -- and booked a time with her because she was everything Jas found attractive in a woman. Womanly curves to her hips and waist, and large natural breasts to die for. Add that body to long blonde hair and green eyes and a Spanish background -- a sexy combination with guaranteed anonymity, and it was too difficult to resist.
She moved to the door and opened it just a second knock came...the girl was just beautiful, everything she'd said she was, and about the same height as Jasmine. "Come in," said Jasmine, her voice cracking a bit with the nerves.
Isabella walked into the room and closed the door behind her. She was dressed stylishly, but not in a way which would attract attention -- a close fitting short sleeve top and very sexy jeans and trainers. "I'm Isabella," she introduced herself. Walking up to Jasmine, embraced her and kissed her gently on the lips. "I'm...Jasmine," came the reply...again broken by the nerves.
