This story is based on interracial lesbian seduction, reluctance and coercion (although there is a sprinkling of MF sex).
The thoughts of a white women being seduced by a black woman is a long held fantasy of mine, but if this type of storyline is not for you, thank you for stopping by but please pass on without feeling the need to leave a derogatory comment.
*****
A young reporter stumbles across an explosive story
Most of Claire Taylor's journalistic assignments usually led down one cul-de-sac or another, which was why she was still a junior reporter. But there was something about THIS story that told her she could be onto something. This could be it ... the story that could help make her mark in the newspaper profession.
She'd been following the details ever since they'd first emerged. And while other reporters told themselves it was an open and shut case, she wasn't so sure. Yes, to all intents and purposes the girl was guilty. But there was more to this than met the eye.
Call it gut instinct, but she was sure of it.
That's why she was here, at the Young Offenders Institute, about to interview the nineteen year old girl.
The teenager could easily have passed as a model with her stunning face and curvaceous body. She was happy enough to show it off with a black skirt that stopped mid-thigh and a tight white top that strained to hold her ample breasts in check. Didn't these places have strict dress codes?
The girl's gaze had found and held Claire's as soon as she had entered the room. Despite her young age, it was clear she wasn't short on confidence.
"Hi Laura," she softly began, once they were alone. "I'm Claire, a reporter with the local newspaper. Thanks for meeting me—"
"We agreed a payment," the girl interrupted, cutting her off mid-sentence. She had a sassy tone to her voice. "You have it?"
Claire kept her face straight but smiled inwardly. The only reason she was here was that she'd agreed a small 'fee'. There wouldn't have been any meeting without it.
"I have," she answered, lowering her voice.
She had no reason to suspect they could be overheard, but payments to offenders were illegal. Newspapers did that sort of thing all the time, of course, but the recent high profile court cases had every one jittery. When she reached for her bag, a quick shake of Laura's head stopped her mid-movement.
"Give it to Monika on your way out," the girl quietly said. "I just wanted to make sure we're on the same wavelength."
Claire nodded. "We are."
She would rather have avoided meeting Monika again. The way the butch guard's eyes had been all over her on the way to the interview room had made her shiver. Still, she was here for a purpose and that was the only thing that mattered.
The teenager's large tits moved seductively inside her white top as she sat back, confirming Claire's suspicion that she wasn't wearing a bra. This time her shiver was accompanied by a tingle between her thighs.
"Okay, what do you want to know?" Laura asked.
She twirled a few strands of her long blonde hair between her fingertips as she spoke, like a modern day Lolita.
"Your story," Claire said, getting straight to the point. "In your own words. Why don't you tell me your side of things?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
"I thought you were here to ask me questions," she countered. "Why don't you tell me what you know and I'll fill in the blanks."
Claire tried to disguise her impatience. She'd only been allocated half an hour. Okay, a quick summary would do and then they could get to the meat of the matter.
"You found employment working for a local Member of Parliament a short while ago," she began. "Melissa Rhodes."
She glanced down at her notes again.
"That was approximately a month ago. But she reported you to the police for stealing some jewellery from her and—"
"That's pretty much it," the teenager interrupted again. "So what else do you want from me?"
Claire leant forward and rested her hands on the small desk between them. If this girl thought she was going to take her for a ride, she could think again.
"I want you to justify the amount I'm paying for this interview," she calmly said. "Otherwise the deal's off. There's much more to this than meets the eye and I want to know what that is."
She raised a single eyebrow, as if to reinforce the point. She had nothing on the girl, of course, just her journalistic instinct. If Laura called her bluff, she'd have nowhere else to go.
"Well?" she asked, making her voice sound more confident than she felt. "If you want me to pay Monika, I need something in return. The truth."
The look in the teenager's eye told her she'd hit on something. It was just a flicker, but it was there all the same.
"We both know that Melissa Rhodes is a prominent business woman," she continued, pressing home her advantage before the girl had too much time to think. "She was elected the first African woman MP in the local constituency. And that means her word will have been accepted as sacrosanct, whereas yours would have been doubted from the start. So—"
"If you're asking if I stole the jewellery," Laura said, stopping her in her tracks. "I did. I wanted the bracelets, so I took them. Why should the rich have all the nice things?"
Claire felt her heart sink. Had she misread the situation? Here she was again, entering another cul-de-sac.
"What made you think you could get away with it?" she asked, trying to disguise the look of disappointment on her face.
A few strands of the girl's long blonde hair fell over one eye as she cocked her head to the side. She sexily blew it away.
"I didn't think she'd dare report it..."
Claire's head jerked up from her notebook to meet the teenager's challenging gaze again. Dare report it? There was definitely something here. But what?
"Why?" she softly prompted.
"She can't afford for the truth to come out."
The reporter's heart began to beat faster. Her instincts had been right all along.
"The truth, Laura?" she asked, keeping her voice level. "And what exactly is that?
"I thought you'd worked it out," the teenager said, in that clipped accent. "Did I expect too much?"
She casually pulled down on her top as if to straighten it. The action—deliberate?—drew Claire's eyes to her tits and to the stiffened nipples on show through the fabric. Even through the material she could see they were long and thick.
When her gaze returned to the teenager's face, she saw that Laura was grinning at her.
"Lots of women look at me that way," she teased. "Wondering, just like you. Want to see?"
She used both hands to drag her top up and above her breasts before Claire could respond. The movement was so sudden, so unexpected, that at first all the reporter could do was stare. The girl's tits were just magnificent. Full and firm, with dark nipples that grew long and hard out of her small areola.
She could easily pass as a Playboy centrefold.
"Please cover yourself," Claire snapped, as a bead of perspiration began to form on her forehead.
Should her mouth be feeling this dry? She took another sip of water as Laura nonchalantly tugged her top back into place.
"You don't need to wonder no more," she said, with a wicked grin. "Now you know..."
Claire tried to stare at her impassively, to ignore the smirk on the girl's face, but it wasn't easy.
"This is getting us nowhere," she said, keeping the emotion out of her voice.
But even as she kept her gaze fixed firmly on Laura's eyes, it was the image of those thrusting breasts that remained imprinted in her mind.
"It isn't?" the girl drawled confidently. "Then let me spell it out. The truth is that I didn't work for Melissa. She was paying me for sex."
Claire stifled a gasp. Paying for sex? She couldn't be serious, could she? Melissa Rhodes was a well-respected Member of Parliament. If there was even a semblance of truth in the revelation then she, her career, would be ruined.
She reached for the glass of water on the table in front of her, playing for time as she thought it through. Had she'd stumbled onto the story of a lifetime, one that would give her the chance to establish herself as a serious journalist? Or was this girl just playing games with her?
"If what you say is true," she slowly probed, unwilling to take the admission at face value. "Then why did she report the theft? Why take a chance of this coming into the open? It doesn't make sense."
"Because she was pissed," Laura chuckled, as if it was that simple. "She'll drop the charges when she thinks it through. She'll have to. When she does, you'll have your proof that I'm telling the truth."
Claire nodded slowly. That was true. If there was any credence in this girl's story, the last thing Melissa Rhodes would want was a reporter asking questions about their relationship.
"Have you told anyone else?" she suddenly asked.
If it was true, she wanted this story for herself. Any journalist breaking this as an exclusive would make their name for ever.
"No way," Laura said. "I'm not stupid. Olivia is angry with me. She told me to stay quiet and it'll all work out."
"Olivia?"
"I work for Olivia. She said she'll talk to Melissa, help her understand she's been a little hasty."
She laughed out loud, running a hand through her long hair and shaking it out.
"Olivia told me to keep my mouth shut and I'll soon be out of here."
"But you haven't kept your mouth shut," Claire queried, thinking it through. "You've told me. Why do that?"
