Parking, I notice her, she is just standing in the yard next door looking at me. She is willowy, with blond hair, and strikingly good looking. So much like Phoebe. My heart lurches with the memory of my first love.

Our eyes lock momentarily, and that is enough. I’m pretty sure I know what her gaze means.

She continues to stare at me as I get my handbag out of the car. Her attentive eyes are checking me out, conveying what interests her. In her case, words aren’t needed for me to hear her ping.

Her eyes then follow me as I walk up the path. And no doubt they watch me as I let myself into our new house.

I have never seen her before. Who is she, I wonder?

Upstairs, in our bedroom, Ryan is packing for his long weekend away. Putting my arms around my fiancé, I run a hand through his distinguished looking salt and pepper hair.

“Hi Fleur. I am not too far from being ready. How was your day?” he asks.

“Got most of the work done for next week’s case. But Charles needs Lorna and I to write up the court brief tomorrow.”

He seems almost amused, “Crap way to spend a Saturday. Though that’s the life of a young lawyer. Glad I am past that.”

“At least it is a weekend you are away. Hey, I’d better get ready for tonight. Can you drop me on your way to the airport?”

“Sure,” he responds, smiling, “Does Nat need a ride?”

As I take off my work jacket, blouse and skirt, I smile with thanks before replying, “No, Nat’s getting an Uber. By the way the woman next door, the one around my age. Do you know who she is?”

“I saw her hug the neighbours before they left. Wouldn’t be surprised if she is their daughter.”

I choose a clubbing dress, dark red, spaghetti straps, and showing some cleavage. After touching up my makeup and digging out heels, I’m good to go. But Ryan isn’t quite packed so I wander outside, telling him I will wait by the car.

But I am hoping to catch another glimpse of her and am pleased in a guilty sort of way that she is still outside our neighbour’s house.

She sees me walk down our path and I watch her as she walks over to me. God, I think, she really is just as gorgeous as Phoebe. She introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Andie. I’m housesitting while my parents are away. You look good. Going out on the town?”

It feels good to hear her say that as I take pride in my outfits, “Thanks, I’m Fleur. And yes, I’m going out with a friend. My fiancé Ryan is going away for the weekend.”

“Fiancé? Oh, I’m surprized…”

Poor girl thinks her gaydar is broken. But I surprise myself by opening up and smiling at her confusion, “You shouldn’t be surprized, I like my boy, but girls are cute too.”

“Too…” She understands, and giggles, adorably. Then she asks, “So where are you going?”

“Club Inferno.”

She giggles again, “Bit of a pick up joint. You planning on being bad while Ryan is away.”

I can’t help but snigger, as she has such a cute way of saying the word bad. “Not my style. It’s my friend Nat’s choice. I think she imagines I will be her wingman.”

I hear Ryan shut the front door and walk down to the car. Andie introduces herself, and while Ryan tells her about his weekend away, I concentrate on her.

Andie is around twenty-five, like me. Slimmer though, tiny, tiny breasts, almost boyish. A little taller, maybe around five feet ten inches. Very good looking, in the same handsome way Phoebe had, with short bottle blond hair, and a fashionable pixie cut swept across one side of her face.

And I just know her clothes, torn denim shorts and t-shirt, are designer.

As Ryan puts his bag in the car, she asks, with an intense penetrating, amused gaze, “You staring Fleur?”

“Busted,” I reply, “Sorry, you remind me of someone. But I like your look and I love your hair.”

Her smile tells me she is obviously okay with my interest. “Sweet, thanks. You in fashion?”

“I like fashion, Andie. But I work in law, like Ryan and my dad.”

“I model a bit, though I think of myself as an artist. You have a good fashion sense. I noticed your corporate outfit when you arrived. And now an even more flattering clubbing outfit.”

I like how easily Andie and I instantly get we have stuff in common, “That is a nice thing to say. We should catch up some time, I could talk fashion for hours. But I better go meet Nat. She has the capacity to get out of her depth.”

“Best you don’t try to keep up with Nat,” Ryan adds, closing the boot and getting into the car.

“I suppose,” I reply, looking at Andie, and shrugging my shoulders.

“Getting out of your depth isn’t always bad,” she whispers conspiratorially.

I look at her quizzically, intrigued by her playful comment. She holds my gaze, and then smirks. I snigger, shaking my head as I realize just how flirtatious she is being.

And eyes continue to hold mine. I’m usually reserved and don’t connect quickly. But I can’t immediately drag my eyes away from her. I seem to be into my first taste of her flirty humour.

As we drive, Ryan says, “Andie is very tomboyish.”

I know exactly what he means by that, “She seems really nice. I hope you don’t judge her for liking girls.”

“But…”

“But nothing. Who cares, love is love.”

“Your parents.”

“Well fuck them. That is not what I think.”

“Fleur, language. Your parents…”

“Don’t Ryan. The language is well deserved. They broke me up with Phoebe.”

“Why worry, you have me now.”

“Yes, I do and I love you. But you know that I am, and always will be, ashamed of how my fucking parents forced me to break up with her.”

“Sorry. I thought you were over her.”

“Yes, I am honey. But Andie remined me of Phoebe. And while I don’t think of Phoebe often, when I do the shame still comes back.”

“Understood. I will drop you here. Almost outside the club.”

“Thanks,” I say, kissing Ryan. “Have a good time away. I love you.”

“Love you too. Don’t work too hard. Make sure you have some fun.”

******************

I soon find Nat and entering the club we push our way to the bar. Then, with a cocktail in hand, we find a spot to sit and people watch.

We kind of catch up, but half a drink in and Nat’s eyes are wandering. When she enthusiastically points out a dark-haired guy, I know our catching up might just have finished.

A little later she goes up to the bar, telling me it is for refills. But I know her better than that. She wants to catch the dark-haired guy’s eye before someone else does.

Watching Nat set out with a determined stride, I hear someone sit in her seat. For a moment, I presume it is a stranger. But turning, to tell them that the seat is taken, I see it is Andie, changed but fashionably boyish still.

“Hey,” she says.

She has followed me, “Hey, yourself?”

“Well you did say you wanted to catch up.” Those eyes and that smile, both mischievous.

“I did, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon, Andie.”

Adorable pout, “I was missing you.”

I can’t imagine being so open, so direct. “Andie, we have known each other for what, five minutes.”

I catch myself gazing at her pouty lips. She knowingly smirks, “Surely six by now. Best six minutes of my life.”

“You’re such a flirt.”

“You read me so easily.”

“I am engaged.”

“So? We are all allowed to flirt. Your friend is flirting with that dark-haired guy. He is flirting back. I flirt. You can flirt too. None of us need Ryan’s permission.”

I laugh, of course flirting isn’t a sin. “I thought I was Nat’s wingman. Not vice versa.”

“You need her help to flirt with me, Fleur?”

Wistfully remembering Phoebe and my naivety, “No, but...”

“Oh God, sorry if I touched a raw nerve.”

“Just someone in my past.”

Andie’s hand is instantly on mine. “Hey, my Dad keeps saying you can’t mend the past but you can mould your future.”

“Maybe. No, he is right, I can’t forever dwell on the past.”

She squeezes my hand, it feels good, “OK now?” she asks.

“Yes, thanks Andie. Now where is my flirtatious friend and my drink by the way?”

“She is still at the bar, it seems having some success making eyes at that dark-haired guy. She might be a while, I will go and rescue your drink.”

I watch Andie’s cute slim butt as she saunters over to the bar. The memory of how Phoebe looked, usually buried, resurfaces again. I will always be ashamed of what happened with Phoebe. But Andie is right, I should focus on the future.

I see Andie introduce herself to Nat, rescue two drinks and saunter back. Some people, I think to myself even walk sexily. Modelling, I suppose. She notices I’m staring, and raises an eyebrow.

“Modelling taught you how to walk?” I ask.

“Yeah probably. Hard work and all about the look.”

“You like it.”

“Yes, I’m fine with it. Found a niche, some steady work. I like the income, it helps with my art. But it isn’t my career.”

She smiles, and continues, “I think you might have lost Nat for the night. I guess you will just have to put up with me then.”

Just hearing that tone in her voice makes me certain that talking to Andie will be more fun than being Nat’s wingman.

And I am right, the conversation flows easily as we have a lot in common. She is serious about her passions, particularly her art. I like that. But I also discover that she is a complete tease. So very different from anyone in our work or law circles.

Conversationally. it’s refreshing, just like stepping into a waterfall on a hot day. And I also discover I can’t resist being drawn into her teasing games.

As we finish our cocktails, I scan the bar for Nat. Andie observes, “Over there in the corner, body language says I’m ready to play.”

“I hope he is a good guy. She deserves someone. Another drink?”

“Sure, you choose.”

And I totter to the bar, choosing red wine this time. Wandering back, I see Andie staring at me. And as I place the wine on the table, she says, “You don’t walk bad yourself.”

I feel a warm flush, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

That tone of hers, we both know we have stepped well beyond recognizing our shared interests and sexuality. We realize we are actually into each other.

“Tell me,” I ask, “How can you be sure Nat’s body language is positive?”

“Look at her leaning in, playing coy. And that little touch on his shoulder. He actually seems into her too.”

I laugh, she is more observant than me, “I think you would be a better wingman for Nat than me.”

“Maybe, but I’m more interested in you.”

So blunt, but there again I knew that when she sat down beside me, “No shit, Andie.”

She giggles. I do too.

Then our conversation is like dancing. Andie leads verbally, but I follow. When I step back, she steps forward, corralling me sentence by sentence. It seems like forever since I have had this much fun with someone I have just met.

An hour later, me sometimes responding and sometimes backing off her flirtatious comments, she says something completely risqué. And I can’t help but laugh.

I notice her body language immediately open up, and she moves closer to me. I realize that my body language has instinctively changed too. Unconsciously I have swung in my seat, facing her. My heart pounds knowing that if she can read Nat’s body language, she is reading mine too.

Oh my God, I think, realizing that she therefore guesses how much I am enjoying her. When I glance at her, the conversation stalls. We stare into each other’s eyes. Hers are pale blue, inviting, and warm.

I feel another warm flush. I know I shouldn’t have these feelings, and mumble, “I need air.”

I finish my wine and step outside onto the smoker balcony. She follows me, and whispers, “What startled you?”

“You, us. I am engaged.”

“So?” she asks, taking out a cigarette, lighting up and offering it to me.

“I promised Ryan I would give them up,” I say.

She inhales, “He isn’t here. And the occasional one feels good.”

I remember my liking for an occasional cigarette, my addiction as Ryan called it. “You are a temptress.”

She giggles, adorably. Then she again offers me the cigarette. I need it so I take it and inhale. The buzz of nicotine feels just as good as it used to.

Passing her the cigarette, I watch her take a drag, and exhale. She looks sexy when she smokes. After exhaling, she says, “I have a confession, Fleur. Feel free to slap me, but when I saw Ryan before, I presumed he was a dad.”

“He is only ten years older than me.”

She again offers me the cigarette. I take another drag as she observes, “He rocks a parental approach though.”

“He is loving and stable. Maybe that is why I feel protected.”

“You value stability,” she says as she steps closer, “More than you should. You might like taking more risks. I’m glad I seduced you into enjoying the cigarette.”

“Me too,” I reply almost whimpering. The word seduced makes me feel out of my depth, uncertain, conflicted. I shouldn’t like where this might be going, but I can’t bring myself to shut it down.

Her hand strokes my hair. And I know exactly where this is going.

“If you say no I will stop, Fleur,” she gently says.

Andie is right in front of me, close to me. I step back but my back touches the wall. I have nowhere to go, saying no is my only defence.

She moves even closer. I feel the warmth of her body. Her blue eyes draw me in. I can’t speak.

One of her hands goes past my face onto the wall. And the other hand onto the other side. I smell her perfume and the cigarette smoke. I should push her away but a paralysis courses through most of my body.

Except my lips. Her face moves ever closer to mine. I lick my lips, murmuring, “I am engaged.”

Her tongue touches my top lip. She then draws my bottom lip between her lips. My mouth opens and her lips are on mine. No hesitation, my lips engage hers and they are soft, delicious, and so very kissable.

She draws her face back from mine. A pause, as we look at each other, and then she asks, “Want to say no?”

Instinctively my head shakes. And our lips lock passionately, tongues engaging. Nothing exists except for the feel of her mouth on mine, kissing. So delicious, so sensual.

The noise of a door slamming breaks her spell over me. I realize I shouldn’t be doing this, “I have to work tomorrow. I must go home, Andie.”

I hurriedly leave her on the balcony. And find Nat, who is kissing the dark-haired guy and clearly doesn’t need a wingman anymore. After saying goodbye to Nat, I step outside, feeling weird, and find a cab.

**************

Home. I’m in turmoil, my head a jumble of tangled thoughts.

Andie is cute and fun. I like her. No way should I have kissed her though. I am engaged for fuck’s sake. But that kiss. Like nothing before, soft languid sexy passionate. Phoebe and I were beginners. Ryan is cool, I like kissing him. Other boys, well, mixed at best. But Andie is something else.

Ryan, I ask myself, what if he found out? Even so, the ring of my phone on my bedside table is welcome relief.

“Hi Fleur. Arrived safely,” Ryan says.

“Hi Ryan, cool. I’m home already, didn’t stay out too long.”

“Good night?”

“Yeah. Nat enjoyed herself and found herself a guy to dance with.”

“You dance?” he asks.

“No mainly just chatting to a girl I met.”

“I am exhausted, bed for me soon. Just wanted to say goodnight to you Fleur.”

“Yeah, me too. Work tomorrow.”

“Make sure you have fun this weekend. Do something for yourself.”

Guiltily thinking I already have, I reply, “Thanks, good idea.”

“Love you, Fleur.”

“Love you, Ryan.”

Lying down with the lights out, a Katy Perry song runs through my mind. ‘I kissed a girl and I liked it.’ Andie tasted yummy but not a hint of cherry.

I smile and drift off to sleep realizing that it was only a kiss. Not too bad really, I rationalize, unsure that Ryan would see it that way.

****************

I wake, the silence broken by the tweet of birds from the bedroom balcony. And remember last night and her kiss.

My right hand reaches for my left hand. Holding my engagement ring is comforting. I recall Ryan on one knee, proposing. Surprised, but yes. Of course, yes, why not.

Thump, the noise barely registers. Thump, two seconds later, I focus.

Thump, from next door. What is it? Thump, I slip out of bed.

The noise misses its regular beat. Reaching for my silk robe that hangs near the sliding doors, I slide it on. The feel of silk against my naked skin is sensual… like her kiss. Oh fuck, stop thinking like that, I chastise myself, I am engaged.

Thump, the noise begins again. What is it? Thump, sliding the bedroom doors open. Thump, stepping onto the upstairs balcony.

Thump, the noise is louder now. Looking down to next door, I see Andie, her back to me. Her tennis racket is hitting a ball. And the noise is the ball hitting the backboard.

A swing of her arm, forehand, connects perfectly. Thump. And then her two-handed backhand, thump. She is good, both shots were just above the painted net line.

Thump, I notice her legs, long slim toned. And then her petite bubble butt. Fuck, I shouldn’t be checking her out.

Thump. I can’t move, my eyes are fixed onto her. Athletic, in control of her body, hammering the ball. She moves gracefully with purpose, the dampness of sweat on the small of her back.

She then mis-hits, unexpectedly. And she laughs, refreshingly humble. Bending down accentuating her long legs as she picks up the ball. She turns and I notice her tiny braless pixie-like breasts, and her hard nipples that push against her t-shirt fabric.

Oh my God what am I thinking? My right hand reaches for my left hand and touches my engagement ring. I resolve that I must stop checking her out.

She looks up and our eyes lock. My resolve fails. The world stops spinning. She smiles, it lights up her face, and she waves at me. I smile and wave back.

She turns and strikes the ball again. Just as firmly and accurately as before.

Thump. She is a good tennis player... and good kisser too, my sub-conscious adds. No, stop it, I say to myself, adding, that I had better get ready as I am meeting Lorna at work to finish the brief for Charles.

Thump. Wandering inside, through our bedroom and into the bathroom, Andie on my mind.

Thump. Wondering about a shower, but deciding no, I really need the bath. Thump. Turning the faucet on, letting the water run warm.

Thump. Slipping off my robe as the bath starts to fill. Thump, sliding into the bath, it is just the right temperature.

Thump. Giggling, I have always loved the bath. No one, not even Ryan, knows why.

Silence. I think she must have mis-hit. Or maybe she is finished. Ryan, I think, my love, my fiancé. I whisper, “I love you, Ryan. I am sorry. She is so tempting, but no more kisses.”

My hand brushes a nipple, and it feels so good. Sliding my body down the bath, I place my right calf on the bath rim. And then my left calf on the rim on the other side of the bath. Legs spread, I sigh in anticipation.

Arms behind me, supporting me I sliding further forward into the water that is falling from the faucet. The water hits my pussy and it feels so good, as always.

In the silence I focus only on the falling water. And moving ever so slightly so it is right on my clit, perfectly caressing me. My breathing deepens as the water’s relentless flow massages me and draws me into pleasure.

Thump. Distracting me, it is Andie playing tennis again.

Thump. I actually feel the noise. It is crazy, the noise feels like a pulse on my clit.

Thump, pulse. I recognise how insane this is and how turned on I feel.

Thump, pulse. Raising my hips closer to the faucet, my arms on the bath rim supporting me as my clit pushes up.

Thump, pulse. I whimper, pushing ever closer to the faucet, needing more water pressure on my clit.

Thump, pulse. I start moaning, it is so good and I am so close.

Thump, pulse. I remember her kiss. And with an “Oh fuck…yes,” I embrace my release, cumming hard as the ball repeatedly thumps against the backboard.

Thump. Satisfied, I slump back in the water thinking that the orgasm was oh so very good.

With my head underwater, there is silence as the water washes over me, washing away my transgressions?

Eventually I get out of the bath and dry myself. Then, after spending ages putting my make up on, I get dressed. My blue bra and thong, cream silk blouse, and pencil-thin dark blue skirt accompanied by heels. A mirror check tells me I look good, and indeed better than usual for weekend work.

I ring Lorna and tell her I am on my way. Walking out of the front door, I guess I expect to see her. And indeed, I do, Andie is beside the fence drinking coffee. Waiting for me?

“Hi,” Andie says. The way she speaks, the word sounds musical.

“Hi yourself,” I reply unlocking the car, “Good workout?”

“Yeah, tennis is the best. Now I’m waiting.”

I turn and face her. Even after working out she still looks gorgeous, “Waiting?”

“To see you of course. You look deliciously good. I could kiss you.”

I giggle, and recognise just how easily I have lost my resolve, “You already have. Once is enough.”

“Once is never enough with a girl like you.”

“Like me?”

“It’s insane how instantly attracted we were.”

Oh God, my heart is beating faster. “Insane is right. I, um, have to work.”

“I know, you told me last night. You had to run to get home and sleep after our wonderful kiss. Did you?”

Looking at her damp t-shirt, I wonder how the nipples of such small breasts could be so prominent. Oh fuck, I think, but I manage to ask, “Did I what?”

“Sleep, silly. I tossed and turned. Someone was on my mind.”

A shiver runs through me. Don’t ask who, repeats like a mantra. “Yes, in fact I slept in. Now have to rush.”

“Working tomorrow?”

“Not on a Sunday.”

“Good, then we can continue tonight.”

I know exactly what she is implying, “I am engaged.”

“So? I don’t mind. You were engaged last night and we had a good time. I will be ready by seven.”

“Cool, enjoy yourself.”

“I will if you are there. Uber here at seven, see you then.”

Turning on her heel, she walks towards her front door. But I have to control this, establish limits. “One drink,” I say.

She turns, smiling. I melt, her smile is so cute. She replies, “Cool Fleur, one drink it is. See you then.” And she closes the front door behind her.

Opening the car door, I get into the car feeling shell-shocked. How can she play me like that? Again. A kiss, albeit a fucking hot kiss, last night. And now she wants me to go out with her tonight. Driving to work, I make up my mind, no it would be best that I don’t go.

At work, during a break, I google her. Some modelling, it is androgynous and admittedly gorgeous. More about her as an artist. She seems good, landscape and people, abstracts, even a nude, a woman.

A little later on Lorna asks, “How late can you stay.”

Unfiltered my reply leaves my mouth, “Home by five.”

“That works for me too. I have to get ready to go out.”

Me too I think, those words are unspoken as Lorna knows Ryan. Why do I have no resolve, I wonder?

Lorna and I are done by five and we send our work to Charles.

At home, on autopilot, I shower and shave. There is a little voice in my mind whispering, you only shave your pussy for Ryan.

“Crap,” I say out loud, “Most Saturdays.” Because those are your date nights the voice whispers back.

Thirty minutes or more on hair and make-up. Then I dress in my black bra, black thong and a black dress, my best dress. Looking in my mirror, a gorgeous brunette looks back at me. Perfectly made up and her long legs accentuated by big heels. Her cleavage visible, accentuated by her new bra that does flattering things to her 36-c-cup breasts.

When I step out the door Andie is waiting, leaning against my car. “God, you look good. I like that you made an effort for me, Fleur.”

Her flirting is deserving of a response. But I can’t answer, I just stare open-mouthed.

I had never imagined Andie would rock her modelling look. Pale shirt with a loose red tie, a white jacket and black trousers. Knowing fashion, I recognize her look, it is androgynous, completely stylish, high end stuff.

I finally recover enough to reply, “Very stylish Andie. I am very impressed.”

She smiles, sweetly. She likes my words.

The Uber pulls up and she holds the door for me. Slipping into the back seat my dress rides up. She doesn’t look away. And sitting in the car waiting for her to get in the other side, I don’t pull my dress down.

We both notice each other’s reaction. I know I am playing with fire.

Looking at her as we drive, “I know the brand you are wearing Andie. It is amazing.”

She smiles, “I can’t afford much. But I like to look the part on a first date.”

“Date?” I giggle, “Only one drink, remember.”

She puts her hand on mine, “Why, do you lose control after a second drink? I might have to buy a second round and find out.”

Thought I shouldn’t, I can’t help but enjoy her flirting and it doesn’t occur to me to move her hand, “Engaged girls don’t lose control.”

“I don’t know why not. You might find you like it. And…”

Despite knowing that she is playing a game, I bite, “And what?”

“You dressed knowing exactly how hot you look in that. An invitation for me to take control?”

Oh fuck, I think is it?

Recognition of where we are dawns when the car stops, even though I haven’t been here before. The reconverted warehouses and alleyways are the new trendy gay quarter. Out of the car she offers me her arm. I slide my arm through hers and we walk past a service alleyway into a bar, with only women inside. Some of them stare.

I don’t mind that we are being noticed. It feels good to be with someone my age, as much into fashion as me, and well, a bit more alternative.

And there is no danger that my family will see. God, I can still can be a coward, I say to myself, adding that is going to change. Why shouldn’t everyone, including my parents, know and respect that I am having an evening out with a gay friend?

Perching on bar stools, our knees almost touching. Andie is languid, an arm on the bar holding her drink. I am more tightly wound, sitting one leg crossed over the other, sipping my cocktail.

Like last night the conversation flows, easily; getting to know even more about each other. Friendly and fun, absolutely refreshing. There is no pressure, I am having a great time.

Andie watches me finish my drink and smiles, but her usual sweet smile carries just a hint of a cat about to pounce. I feel myself shiver when she asks, “Enjoying your date, Fleur?”

I snigger, knowing she is at it again, “I never mentioned the word date. But yes, I am enjoying my evening.”

“I think we need another drink.”

Attempting to look a little shocked, I remind her of what I said earlier, “I said one.”

“You did. But tell me truthfully, would you like a second?”

“Would I? Yes of course. Should I? Maybe not, last night I ended up kissing you.”

Her eyes never leave me as she signals for a new round.

“You are staring,” I say hoarsely.

“I am. You are beautiful.”

The drinks arrive. My eyes don’t leave hers as I sip my cocktail.

“You’re staring too,” she observes. Then she smiles and her hand grazes the top of my knee.

“Comfortable here?”

“It is way different to places I normally hang out. I really like that you bought me here. I feel like I am on your territory.”

She looks thrilled, “Is that because you wondering what happens on my territory?”

She slips off her stool and stands. Both hands lightly touch the top of my knee. And I instinctively uncross my legs.

“I think I am beginning to imagine, Andie.”

Her hands stroke the inside of my thighs just above the knee, “When was the last time this happened to you, Fleur.”

I look down at her hand, and then look into her eyes, remembering Phoebe, and reply, “Years ago.”

Her fingers drift a little higher up my thigh, “You are special.”

I sip my drink, knowing I should re-establish limits, “And you are way too forward.”

“Say the word and I will stop,” she says as her fingers drift higher, caressing my thighs at the bottom of my short dress.

“Way, way too forward…” Speechless, my mouth is suddenly dry despite having just sipped my drink.

“I like touching your skin,” she whispers.

I sip my drink again and look down at her hand about to disappear under my dress.

“I shouldn’t like your touch,” I say as her fingers creep higher, “…As I am engaged.”

“I know you are. But I don’t think you want me to stop me do you Fleur.”

The lightest of touches, with just the tip of one finger, grazes my pussy.

It feels good, I whimper knowing how close to surrendering I am, “I should go.”

“Come to my studio, Fleur. It is around the corner.”

“I shouldn’t,” I reply knowing deep down that her touch has ignited long dormant desires. Not giving in is now a huge act of will.

I get up needing air. Escaping the bar, my thoughts are jumbled as I turn into the alley way knowing it is a dead end. Away from being seen, I turn and see her walking purposefully towards me. She closes the gap and I am in her arms, pressed against the wall.

Her lips touch mine. A momentary pause teetering, on the precipice of abandoning control. And I step over the edge, returning her kiss, passionately.

She kisses my neck and my leg wraps around her pushing my pussy into her thigh. Feeling shots of pleasure as I grind against her. Her hand caresses my dress above my breast.

I know I am lost, lost in Andie’s desire, “Oh God, so good. I can’t say no to you anymore. Your studio right now.”

Hand in hand we rush a couple of blocks and into a converted warehouse.

The door slams behind us, instinct takes over and we are again in each other’s arms kissing, hungrily and passionately. Again, and again, mouths moulding, tongues engaging, stoking the fire that is burning in my pussy.

Then, pushing me onto a table, she slides up my dress. Her fingers slip into the sides of my thong, caressing my damp pussy lips. And then she touches my clit.

Leaning back on the table, I embrace her touch. Panting, loving the magic that comes with the feel of her fingers in my thong.

She slides my thong off. Sitting up, hungry to see her, I slip off her jacket and undo her tie. Button by button, then her shirt follows onto the floor. Her breasts are tiny, cute as a pixie, but oh so very touchable.

I run my fingers over them, admiring the puffiness and hardness of her nipples. She moans. I lean forward and suck a nipple into my mouth. She groans, clearly sensitive.

I look into her eyes, craving more from her. She knows. Spreading my legs, she falls to her knees. And she runs her tongue up through my pussy, once twice three times. Magical, moaning I throw head back, loving the exquisite feel of her tongue.

She takes her time exploring my damp pussy and then focuses on my clit. Licking it before drawing it into her mouth, expertly playing me.

And unbelievably quickly she has me so close. The pressure builds, and I moan, “Oh my God,” craving a release. Two fingers curve and slide into my pussy.

As she finger-fucks me, I scream, “Yes, yes… Andiee.”

And her tongue returns to my clit, and soon after she has me right on the edge. Overdosing on her tongue and fingers, I embrace the onrushing orgasm.

And it arrives like a freight train. Cumming, rumbling through me, hard and long.

My breathing is ragged as Andie continues to gently lick, teasing aftershocks of pleasure from me. Recovering my breath, I smile down at her, “I’m glad I had the second drink.”

She laughs adorably, “Me too.”

My barriers are shot. I so want to please her. “Have you got a bed?”

“Upstairs.” She takes my hand and leads me upstairs. I slip off my dress and undo my bra. Naked I focus on Andie, undoing her trousers and slipping off her thong.

“It has been a while for me,” I say as she puts her arms around me. My arms go around her and I pause, just enjoying the soft feel of her skin against my body.

She holds me close, then whispers, “I know. Let me take control.”

“But I want to please you.”

“You will,” she says. Standing beside the bed we kiss. I love the feel of her skin as I run my hands over her back. Leaning down licking her nipples. Drawing one into my mouth, firmly, I hear her moan.

She eases me onto her bed, lies on top of me and we kiss passionately. My legs are spread and I feel her pussy touch mine. She kisses me again, then gazes into my eyes and begins to rock her hips back and forward, grazing her pussy against mine. Different, pleasurable, very sexy.

I feel passive, watching her concentrating, eyes closed. But I can’t be passive with her, I need to participate.

I roll her off me and onto her back. She looks surprised and then I kiss her. As our mouths mould together, my hand travels down her stomach and through the folds of her damp pussy.

Her eyes close as she moans. My fingers, now damp, search out her clit. Popping it from its hood.

“Oh God, yes Fleur,” she murmurs.

And I just know that she is totally turned on and I can easily draw her orgasm from her. She moans again when I gently squeeze her clit. Round and round my fingers go, and I hear her start to mumble incoherently.

And I know just when to say, “Andie?”

“Yes… omg… Fleur.”

“Cum for me, honey.”

And a moment or two later, with a deep guttural groan, she falls over the edge into the joy of her orgasm. And I feel her shudder as it rumbles through her.

“Wow,” she says, when she recovers her breath, “I loved that.”

“Wow, yourself, you are amazing.”

In each other’s arms, we snuggle together. Listening to her breath, enjoying her until I realize I have just cheated on my fiancé. And a tear slips out onto Andie.

She notices, “You okay?” she asks.

“Not really,” I murmur, “Its not you, you were wonderful.”

“So were you. I know you feel guilty but you are so responsive. And wow I rarely cum that fast.”

“Honestly, I shouldn’t think this but I so don’t regret experiencing you.”

She smiles and leans in and we kiss. Hands start running over each other’s bodies. As she touches me a hunger grips me. And I just know she feels the same, she needs me as much as I need her.

We understand, no pretence, we connect. Eyes never leave the other. Fingers on breasts, on butts and grazing pussies. I am damp, she is damp. Our desire is reflected in each other’s eyes.

My finger scoops moisture from her. Her finger scoops moisture from me. She touches my clit and I touch her clit. She whimpers and I whimper.

Eyes locked together, communicating. There is something more than lust growing between us, and it surprises me with its intensity.

Our fingers continue playing with each other’s clits. I know exactly what to do. Andie does too.

Touching, caressing, and staring at each other. I feeling like I am drowning in her eyes, and then emotionally the dam of guilt bursts inside me. She knows, in her eyes I see her let go too. Her defences are down, she is opening herself to me.

Our fingers are magic, but our eyes are our connection. I feel my orgasm on its way. And I see on her face that her’s is too.

And both orgasms build and then crest together. Our eyes lose focus as we join each other in that beautiful death. Cumming together, pushing our pussies against each other’s fingers. It is rich deep, satisfying, and so very intense.

And as I recover my breath, I know I have never ever had a connection like this before. “Don’t say a word,” I whisper, “I have no regrets.”

Holding each other close, hands gently stroking each other’s backs, we kiss with little butterfly kisses.

“Sleep with me,” she asks.

Part of me knows that is another step, but I am too deeply in to back out now, “Yes please.”

Snuggling together, her hand on my breast, we quickly fall asleep.