MONDAY
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Emma's work clothes stuck to her. She wore black high heels, a short black skirt, and a white blouse. She had undone most of the buttons on the blouse as she walked towards the house. She was nineteen, and worked in a travel agency. All day long she dreamed of sunny beaches and city breaks. She had spent the last twenty minutes crammed into a train with other commuters. She was sweaty and tired. She still looked pretty good though. She knew that some of the men on the train had been staring at her. She clicked up the garden path in her heels, and rang the doorbell. She fussed with her hair, taking out the pins, letting it fall loose over her shoulders. She stood on the doorstep, framed by a pair of dark pink rosebushes. She momentarily lost herself, gazing into the soft pink folds of the petals.
Her boyfriend's mother opened the door. She was a raven-haired beautiful woman. She wore trainers and running gear. She smiled when she saw Emma. At the same moment, the sun blazed from behind a cloud.
"Daniel isn't home yet, But come on in and wait for him. You want some orange juice?"
Emma adored her smile. It was intense. It was devastating. She felt herself being drawn to Charlotte's lips. She was a moth and Charlotte was the flame. She fought to get a grip on herself. This was her boyfriend's mother.
"Thanks, Mrs. Garland. Anything cold will do." It was 28 degrees and there was no breeze from the sea. It was clammy and uncomfortable. It promised to be a sweltering summer.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "I do wish you wouldn't call me Mrs. Garland. You make me feel a hundred years old!"
"I can't help it." Emma said. "My parents raised me to be respectful." She laughed. "Especially to old people."
"You know I'm sensitive about turning forty this week."
Charlotte's long legs were clad in a tight pair of black Capri leggings that stopped just below her knees. Above that, she wore a figure-hugging white T-shirt with the words SUMMER OF LOVE stretched across her chest. Her hair was tied back. She was about to start her daily five mile run, but she was sweating just standing there. She carried a massive hunk of machinery clipped to her waist.
"What is that? It looks like it'll slow you down." Emma pointed at the square slab of blue metal. "Is it a gramophone?"
"It's a discman. It plays compact discs."
"Er... what are those?" Emma joked. One of the reasons Emma and Charlotte got on really well together was because they shared a love of music. Emma had loaned Charlotte her Katy B album. In return, Charlotte had got Emma hooked on Bowie. Emma had always been into music. She played guitar, and wrote her own songs.
Charlotte laughed. "I suppose you've never heard of a walkman either? They take cassettes!"
Emma shook her head, pretending to be dumb. Her pretty green eyes were wide and innocent. Her red hair flicked from side to side.
Charlotte pushed her lightly. "Liar! You're old enough to remember mix tapes. I'd like to replace it with an MP3 player at some point, but it'll do for now. You never know – someone might buy me an iPod for my birthday."
Emma grabbed her arm, and pulled. It was an excuse to touch her. The two women grappled in the doorway. The sun beat down on them. Charlotte pulled Emma's hair. Emma bit Charlotte on the arm. She grasped Charlotte's wrist hard enough to bruise it. Charlotte pinched Emma's thighs. Emma spanked Charlotte's buttocks. Their bodies crushed together. Their legs twisted. Emma forced her thigh up into Charlotte's groin. Charlotte grunted and ground herself against Emma's leg. Their play-fights were getting worse. For Charlotte, it was just a bit of fun. Emma wasn't sure what it meant to her. All she knew was that she felt aroused right now. The two women fought, both dressed in black and white. They struggled wordlessly, grunting and squealing. Somewhere close, an ice-cream van tootled. They parted, staring at each other hard. Charlotte panted for breath. Emma had a speck of blood on her lips.
"Did I do that?"
Emma nodded, grinning. She longed for Charlotte to kiss it better.
"Shit! Sorry." Charlotte frowned. It felt normal to her but she guessed that if anyone else saw them play-fighting, they would think it bizarre. She was strangely aware that they didn't do it when Daniel was in the room. She wondered briefly why that was. Still, the evening was too warm for her to care. "Why don't you come running with me?"
"Because there's no way you would keep up."
"Oh really?"
Emma watched her boyfriend's mother run down the street. She watched her cute ass wriggle in the lycra. Charlotte might be turning forty this week but she sure didn't look it. Emma closed the door and went into the living room. She sat on the sofa, waiting for Daniel but thinking of Charlotte.
***
Emma had her doubts. She had always preferred men. She certainly wasn't a virgin. She had slept with seven guys over the last couple of years. But recently, she hadn't been interested. Men left her cold. She was going through something, but she couldn't say exactly what. She had lied to Daniel, telling him she didn't believe in sex before marriage. That was rubbish. Of course, she hadn't told him about the seven guys she slept with before. The truth was, Daniel was a great guy, and he was handsome. He had a lean body and deep soulful eyes. But, right now, she was more interested in women. It was peculiar. She thought that, if you were a lesbian, you knew it from an early age. She had never heard of anyone suddenly changing their sexuality at nineteen. She was confused. She didn't know who she was. Her mobile phone buzzed. It was Daniel.
HEY GORGEOUS. MISSED THE TRAIN. I HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER HOUR. SORRY. SEE U SOON XXX.
Emma's heart beat faster as she read the message. It meant she had time. She couldn't get Charlotte out of her mind. She imagined her running, her breasts leaping, the muscles in her legs flexing, her dark hair tied into a ponytail and bouncing.
She went upstairs.
Not for the first time, Emma intruded into Charlotte's bedroom. She loved this room. It was the place where all her fantasies converged. She admired the queen-size bed. The mattress was thick and soft, like lying on a cloud. The headrest was black wrought iron. Emma suspected Charlotte was a deeply sensual woman. She slept beneath satin sheets, sometimes gold, sometimes midnight blue, but today they were a purply-red, the colour of a full-bodied Burgundy wine.
Emma reached out and her hand glided gently across them. She thought about making love to Charlotte under those sheets, their excited bodies entwined, orgasming as the sheets slid over them.
The furniture was modern, angular, and made from cherry wood. The tone of the wood was deep and warm. There was a dressing table, with a large mirror. Emma pulled the square stool out from under the table and sat down. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Emma knew men thought her pretty. She had coppery red hair that curled loosely down to her shoulders. Her eyes glowed green like peridot. Was that how Charlotte saw her? Did Charlotte even notice when she ran her hands through her dark hair, how Emma smiled, how she licked her lips?
A musical jewellery box sat on the dressing table. Emma lifted the lid, and the theme to Swan Lake played as a tiny model ballerina pirouetted. She sat, listening raptly to the music.
She browsed through Charlotte's perfume collection. She picked up each bottle in turn, feeling the weight of them in her hand, breathing in the aroma of osmanthus flower, honeycomb, apple blossom, and sandalwood.
Emma walked to one end of the room. In a wall-to-wall cupboard unit, Charlotte kept all her shoes. There were easily three hundred pairs there. Emma coveted her collection. She liked to consider which shoes she would like to fuck Charlotte in. Most of them! Emma clumsily kicked off her own black patent leather heels. They landed by the bed, one upright, one on its side. She imagined two pairs of high-heeled shoes discarded there. A pair of hers and a pair of Charlotte's, and near them a puddle of clothing, little black dresses and underwear taken off in a hurry.
Emma opened Charlotte's drawers. They concealed an alluring array of lingerie. Emma was impressed. She unspooled sheer stockings. She thought about being tied to the bed by Charlotte, her naked body spread across the queen-size mattress, her wrists and ankles tied to the corners by tightly-knotted stockings. Her eyes closed. In her daydream, Charlotte crawled over her, doing whatever her heart desired.
Emma rummaged through Charlotte's silk negligee, satin naughties, lacy unmentionables, and lycra undies. The drawers were full of bras, panties, stockings, suspenders, basques, briefs, teddies, chemise, knickers, camisoles, slips and babydolls.
She unfolded a black lace basque and held it up against her own body. She studied herself in the mirror. She was taller and thinner than Charlotte. Surprisingly, their breasts were the same size - a 34 double D. Emma examined the label in a pretty blue bra. But Charlotte had a curvier figure, while Emma's lower half was slimmer. So Emma guessed she could fit into Charlotte's underwear, even if her panties might be a size too big.
Her searching fingers closed around something smooth and metallic. Oh my God! She knew what it was just by feeling. The Holy Grail! She found it tucked away beneath boxes of Tampax. She hadn't been looking for it, but she was overjoyed to find it. It was Charlotte's vibrator. It was silver, shaped like a sleek missile. There was a variable black plastic speed dial at the base. She imagined Charlotte operating it at top speed, bucking and writhing, swearing under her breath, biting her tongue as she came so that Daniel didn't hear.
'What the hell am I doing?' Emma thought.
She turned the dial. Her grin widened as the vibrator buzzed into life.
Emma closed her eyes. She put the tip of her tongue on it. Mmmm! She imagined she was tasting it just after Charlotte had used it. Oh, it tasted good! She sucked it like it was an ice lolly. It buzzed in her mouth.
She had been in Charlotte's room before. She had admired her shoes, sampled her perfume, lay back on her bed, and even peeked at her lingerie. But she had never done this before.
She picked out some of Charlotte's panties. She dug around and found a pair that matched the basque. They were black, lacy, almost non-existent.
She wriggled out of her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse. She wore plain white cotton underwear. She unhooked her bra. She stood there for a moment. She was naked but for her white cotton panties. She admired herself in the mirror. Her flat stomach, her lovely legs, her full breasts.
Next she sprayed Calvin Klein Obsession on her wrists. She rubbed her wrists together, then touched them to her throat. She was enveloped by the delicate aroma of amber, jasmine and sandalwood. It was Charlotte's favourite scent.
It wasn't enough. She picked up the perfume again and sprayed Obsession all over. It smelled like Charlotte was close to her. Intimately close. She stepped out of her panties.
She listened for the slightest sound, in case anyone came home.
She tried on Charlotte's underwear. She slipped the panties on first. They were luscious, tiny and elegant. She put the basque on back to front, so that she could fasten all the hooks. She twisted it the right way round. It was a perfect fit. The basque was adorned by lace flowers. The cups clutched her breasts. The lace felt light and cool against her skin. It was delicate and sensual. She pulled the straps over her shoulders. She stared at herself in the mirror, marvelling at how sensual she looked. Her red hair was auburn in the sunlight. It fell across her eyes, over her shoulders, down her back. She looked gorgeous.
