This story deals with themes of reluctance and coercion in a lesbian setting. If you think you might be offended please try another story.
Chapter One
The first time it happened will remain with me forever.
The night before my husband had phoned to tell me that he thought that we should make our 'break' permanent and, as if that was not bad enough, I arrived at the office the following morning to find that Sue had got the promotion that I had been hoping for.
My boss then added injury to insult by telling me that she had double booked her interview candidates and asked me if I would help out. I was tempted to tell her to get Sue to do it but I could not afford to antagonize her; things were going to be tight if I was going to be living alone in the long term.
I looked at the c.v. and, on the face of it, the girl was eminently suited for the role but Marcia had added a pencilled note which said bluntly "Just go through the motions. We have two better prospects." This, in other words, was a complete waste of my time.
I went down to reception to greet her and almost did a double take. Why this girl wanted a job as a receptionist when she should have been making money as a model was not at all clear. I was put in mind of the actress, Alice Eve, which was ironic given that she rated very highly in my husband's list of 'most beddable'.
I led her to the interview suite and even I had to admire her long tanned legs shown off to devastating effect by a breezy summer dress.
Her answers to my questions were considered and intelligent but I wondered if she had dressed with a male interviewer in prospect. Once or twice she leaned forward a little to make a point emphasising her ample charms.
I started to bring proceedings to a close and asked one final question.
"Sum up for me, in thirty seconds, why you should be offered this job."
She paused and then held my eye unwaveringly.
"I have the qualifications, experience, personality and the look to represent the front desk of an international bank. "
Her answer was assured and succinct and, had it been my choice, I would have put her forward but only Marcia was vetting for this particular job. She must have sensed my problem.
"...and I will do whatever it takes."
I told myself to get a grip. Had I been a man her remark could clearly have been misconstrued but, nevertheless, I felt my heart quickening just for a fleeting instant...
The words hung in the air and left me off balance. At twenty-one she was nearly ten years younger than me but I suddenly felt like the ingénue.
I began to straighten my papers but, as I did so, she reached out and put a hand on mine.
"Does your husband make you come when he goes down on you?"
For a second or two I thought my heart had stopped and I struggled to draw my next breath. If her intention was to shock she had succeeded in a big way. She could not have known it but she had touched a particularly raw nerve.
When we were courting my husband professed to love performing oral sex and I was a very willing, and sometimes greedy, recipient. Unfortunately, I had great difficulty in returning the favour. I do have a sensitive gag reflex but, in truth, it is something much more psychological.
I was completely honest with him and he assured me that it was not a problem but it came to matter in an ever bigger way. He began to accuse me of being selfish and his own performances, which had always been a little perfunctory if truth be told, tapered off altogether. It was not our only marital problem but it was a significant one.
I desperately tried to marshal my thoughts. Even now, she had only asked a question, albeit an outrageous one, but her next enquiry left little room for doubt.
"Is the door locked?"
I should have stopped it right there but I found myself nodding yes. The 'Engaged' sign was illuminated outside and the door could be unlocked with the push of a button.
She rose from her seat and came around to my side of the desk. Looking me in the eye she wheeled my chair back and slowly knelt in front of me.
Ever since I was a teenager I had fantasised about making love to another woman but I regard myself as strictly heterosexual and I had never felt the urge to actually make it a reality even when I had had too much to drink.
I resisted as she rested her hands on my knees but she just smiled and I shivered she ran her fingers beneath my skirt.
She lifted her eyebrow in approval when she encountered the bare flesh above my stay up stockings and, bizarrely, I gave silent thanks that my underwear was fresh out of the packaging that morning.
When her fingers reached the border of my panties she arched her wrists and flipped my skirt out of the way.
I had never felt so wanton, or so aroused, as I did at that moment. Here I was, in the middle of a work day, putting myself on display whilst this young woman held out the promise of fulfilling an impossible dream.
She pressed her hands together, as if in prayer, and eased them between my thighs this time finding no resistance.
"You have lovely legs..."
She gently spread me open, running the back of her finger across my inner thigh, and I felt a sudden heat centred on my sex. I am proud of my body but I think my legs shade my breasts when it comes to deciding my best feature.
Her finger continued its exploration moving ever upwards until she began to trace the contour of my mons. She touched me in a way that suggested that she was far from new to this and I wondered if she was exclusively in to women but, more than that, I wondered if I particularly appealed to her as a woman.
I suspected that, if I had been a fifty year old harpy, this would not be happening. As it was I knew that I had been blessed with more than my fair share of attractiveness due mainly to the Italian genes I had inherited from my mother.
Her hands found the outside of my thighs and I had one last chance to back out. Her fingers slid inside my panties and she needed me to raise myself if they were to be removed. She could have simply moved them aside but it felt as if she was offering a reprieve.
I sat frozen, my every instinct telling me to stop, but most compelling of all was the simple fact that I was using her in the knowledge that I actually had nothing to offer in return. With great reluctance I steeled myself to do the sensible thing but then she completely disarmed me.
She leaned forward and placed a single kiss at the centre of my exposed panties.
"I want to taste you..."
No one had ever said anything like that to me before and certainly not with such feeling. Perhaps she had intended to seduce me whatever the outcome.
