Hello again! Many thanks again to the lovely people who review either in person or as a guest. I really do value all your comments (and praise, obviously!)
On with the show then. Emily is asleep in Naomi's bed. Naomi is on the chair in the bedroom, worrying...worrying a lot, as is her wont. She never makes it easy on herself, does she?
Naomi
God she looks utterly lovely. The thought keeps bubbling up in my head as I watch her sleep. I've never seen her like this, unguarded, completely relaxed. She'd probably call me stupid for saying she looks lovely. After the night she (almost) had, she could have been badly damaged. Not just because those two fucks would have used her mercilessly...over and over. But mentally too. Coming out in my mid teens was traumatic enough for me, with a supportive mother and a home environment which screamed laissez fair. But by the time you get into your twenties, you've surrounded yourself with small, comforting certainties. Certainties that support but also imprison you. I'm straight...I will find the right man...my family think I'm straight...I have a career to think of now...the list is almost endless. Small, self serving mantras which get you through the days...and probably nights too. I have no idea (and don't want to) what demands people like Richard Hurst put on their succession of willing mistresses. But given his wife is probably impossibly beautiful and the untainted goddess of his marriage, it's unlikely Emily would have got away with vanilla as a new flavour to tempt him. Powerful men with young mistresses demand something...extra...on their illicit menu. I shudder to think what she might have had to do to keep him happy.
And all the time...being gay.
Because if last night taught me one thing, it was that Emily Fitch is as gay as I am. Gay enough to turn up alone at a notorious dyke hangout and get hammered. Gay enough to want to find out what she's been missing for the last few years.
Well, she nearly found out the hard way. Of course, nothing she learned on a tatty mattress between those two hard faced bitches would have been much fun for her, pissed and stoned as she was. I got her out of there in the literal nick of time. And at the cost of my own relationship probably. Half cut I might have been, but I saw the look in Minis eyes when my taxi pulled away. It was the look of someone who knows she's lost something. Lost the thing she'd been trying to hang on to with dedication and lots and lots of sex.
Me.
Object of lust? Yeah, and right now that is giving me no comfort whatsoever.
The object of MY lust (Go on Naomi, be honest with yourself, if no one else) is lying in my bed, looking like a small, vulnerable angel. Curled up on her side, dark hair fanning out across two pillows, with her legs bent as if she is running away from something. Probably a fitting metaphor that.
She's wearing one of my sleeping tees. Not that I normally wear one, but I keep a couple handy for that time of the month when even dark chocolate and red wine won't shift my mood. The comfort of clean warm cotton around me is something I crave when mother nature comes to call. But last night, Emily Fitch was the recipient of that freshly laundered material. I had to take her clothes off when we got here. Not like that...I tried very hard not to perve I'll have you know, but she was barely conscious and shivering with delayed fright. The drugs, thank God, had been fast acting but were quickly leaching out of her system. I guess she couldn't have taken all the powder they dealt her. But she needed warming up and no way was I going to offer my own treacherous body as a blanket, ridiculously tempting as that would have been. I kept my eyes firmly on her face as I rubbed her hands and arms, then efficiently stripped her down to (OK, very cute) tiny white lace knickers before lifting her arms and putting the tee, warm from the airing cupboard, over her head and down over that lush little body. (alright, I peeked a BIT...so shoot me)
She kept her own head down most of the time, mumbling her thanks in a voice husky with drink and exhaustion. I put her into my double bed and heard her sigh in relief at the thick duvets warmth and the deep pillows under her head. Within seconds she was asleep.
It took me a minute or two to gather my thoughts after that. I might have spent a few more moments just looking at her, noting how natural it seemed to have Emily Fitch in my bed. But eventually I shook my head at my own stupidity, gave myself a mental slap and went into the lounge to get some blankets for the couch. Lumpy and uncomfortable it might be, but better slight discomfort than the certain temptation of a night between the sheets with Miss E Fitch. I didn't rescue her from Dumb and Dumber just to carry out my own assault. Part of my brain laughed at that.
"Right Naomi...like you don't want to jump her bones...and like she probably wouldn't happily let you?"
Well, that might all be true, but she was vulnerable and I have a girlfriend...right?
Right.
Cold comfort for the prospect of several hours on my couch.
But now its morning. Now the dreary Bristol skyline is clear out of my window. It's cloudy, but then when isn't it? Now though, I have a Fitch sized problem in my apartment, in my bed. I'm hardly a stranger to the walk of shame...the gradual consciousness after ending up in a strange apartment...with a virtual stranger next to me. Not that I made a habit of it, even when I was at my most...experimental. Mostly I saved the random shagging for holidays abroad. Brief, pleasurable encounters in tourist hotels with similarly experimental foreign students. But this was different. For a start we knew each other. Not well, but she had kissed me...twice. Both times I could recall with startling clarity. Soft lips, a whiff of expensive scent and a rush of endorphins a pharmacist would struggle to concoct. I fancy her, simple as. And I think she fancies me.
But I have a girlfriend and Emily is just out of a long term relationship with a guy. OK, maybe that relationship had been mostly clandestine hook ups in out of the way hotels or brief screws across an executive desk (I shuddered at that unwanted image) but it was a relationship. And then there was Mini. Lovely, sweet, sexy Mini with her lithe, smooth body and filthy mind. The Mini who had not only made my life fun these past few weeks, but the girl who even helped out when I was doing my caped crusader bit outside the club. When she must have known she was conspiring in her own downfall.
Guilt and regret competed for dominance in my mind. I sighed deeply, hoping yet fearing what would happen when Emily woke up. What did I say to her? What would she say to me? The usual Campbell over-thinking went into critical hyper-drive.
XXX
Emily
I didn't want to open my eyes. For several seconds I just laid there with the fierce pounding in my head making any movement unwise. But even through closed lids, I could sense it was daylight. I don't remember much about last night. Too much to drink, that line of pink powder after encountering a girl in the ladies...dancing. Someone getting way too familiar...then cold air, some sort of argument and a taxi...with Naomi Campbell...oh fuckety fuck fuck. She took me to her place. I'm in her apartment...in her bed?
Suddenly the physical fear of opening my eyes was secondary to what I might find out when I did. I am in a bed, I thought. A soft, comfortable bed with thick down pillows under my head. It smells nice..in fact it smells of her...fuck.
No, not fuck as in shagging...fuck as in Jesus Christ, what am I going to say when she knows I am awake. Trying to be subtle, I let my trailing leg inch backwards, to see if another body is in here with me (please yes...please no). Mixed relief and disappointment as my leg encounters nothing but more cool cotton. Alone then.
I crank open one eye a fraction. Not enough to let anyone see I am looking, but enough to blearily see what's right in front of me.
It took a force of will I didn't know I owned not to spring wide eyed out of the bed when my single eye did focus.
Naomi Campbell. Sitting on a chair, one leg bent under her, the other swinging from side to side. Some sort of low chair thing...don't they call them chaise longues or something? Anyway, a blue velvet chair thingy. She's dressed in a long band tee, her bare leg holding my unbelieving eye as it moves lazily back and forth. She's holding a steaming mug of what I guess is coffee from the smell. Her hair is tangled and adorably bed trashed. She looks nothing like the smart suited wage slave as I've seen her before today. The tee is crumpled and her eyes...oh Jesus, her eyes. I know they are blue, I know they are icy, but lit like this, in the fresh morning light, they are... hypnotic.
Even more so as I realise with a shock she's looking straight at me. I pray that the tiny gap I am peering through has made her think I'm still asleep. At least long enough for me to drink in the sight of Naomi relaxed and unguarded.
Then I realise she is studying me as closely as I am her. Nothing in her demeanour makes me think she has clocked me watching her. Her gaze is intense, as if she's cataloguing my face for some private collection. I must look a state too. More of last nights episodes start flashing through my head like the sort of monochrome still images police photographers take at the scenes of a crime . Someone sucking on my neck as the beat thunders through our twisting bodies. Another someone, hard eyed and predatory, cupping my tits and pushing a jean clad thigh between mine...grinding possessively as her partner soothes my fears. The drugs surging over and over again. Stumbling through the club, supported under each arm. The part sympathetic, part weary look from the huge guy who let me in. The cold air...wondering briefly where my jacket was as the chill hit my body. Then a scuffle...harsh words. Falling against a taxi that suddenly wasn't there any more. Then softer, kinder hands. Soothing words. Another taxi...a short journey and then a bed...this bed. Sweet smelling, crisply clean. Then nothing, until now.
I could feel something against my skin, but it wasn't the clothes I went out in last night. Under the cover of the duvet, still trying hard not to let Naomi know I was awake, I reached down with my hidden hand and touched the material. A cotton tee shirt, I guessed. Similar to the one my observer was wearing. The instant realisation that I must have been undressed by someone...completely. Someone? No strike that, Naomi fucking Campbell had stripped me...seen me naked. Half of me wanted to scream in panic at that thought, the other half was slyly cheering. So what, that evil part said...isn't that what you wanted all along...to be naked in her bed?
Well, yes, I answered myself. But being put into the bed as a shivering, stoned wreck wasn't exactly how I'd pictured it. No slow mutual seduction, all soft kisses and exploring hands. She must think I'm a total loser. I just managed to stifle a sob at that thought. Nice one Emily...she probably can't wait for you to wake up and get the hell out of her life.
But just in case this was the very last time I was this close to her, I carried on staring through my barely open eye at the object of my desire. If only I could read her thoughts...if only this was like cartoons, with visible speech bubbles hovering over our heads. She would know I want her like nothing I've ever wanted before. And maybe...just maybe. I would see into her head and find out if that attraction is mutual.
But we aren't cartoon characters. I could no more see her thoughts than she could mine. I steeled myself to face my demons. But before I could, she spoke in a husky, morning-rough voice.
"It's supposedly very rude to stare Miss Fitch" she said softly, putting down her empty coffee cup on the arm of the chair, softening the accusation with a wry smile.
Busted.
I cranked open both eyes with difficulty and regarded her seriously.
"Pot, kettle Miss Campbell?" I said hoarsely, my own voice even rustier than hers.
She smiled again, wider this time.
"Yeah, well...jinx I suppose..." she said cheekily. "...good sleep Emily?"
I blinked slowly, my head not allowing me any rushed movements. Naomi nodded towards the bedside cabinet.
"Two paracetamol and a cold glass of mineral water there...I'm guessing your head is banging a little bit?"
I smiled at her...my guardian angel.
"Thanks" I said carefully "I'm so sorry about ...I shouldn't have...you didn't need to..."
This time she shook her head firmly.
"Nope...no regrets ...not yet anyway. Too early for all that crap. Take those painkillers first...coffee?"
Again I carefully nodded. She unwound herself from the low chair gracefully and walked nimbly towards the bedroom door. I tried not to, but the sway of her pert behind under that short tee and the length of those pale smooth legs were too persuasive. I straight up perved...OK?
As the door swung shut behind her, I heard a tiny smug chuckle. Bitch..she knew just what I was doing.
I groaned part in pain, part in embarrassment when she was safely gone, then sat up gingerly. Reaching over to the small cabinet, I popped two pills from the silver foil and swallowed them quickly with most of the cold tumbler of water. My parched throat cheered at the hydration, but my stomach wasn't quite so thrilled. Holding myself half up against the pillows, I waited for the surge of nausea to pass before sitting up properly, pushing one of the oversized pillows behind my head. I ran both sets of fingers through my ruined hair, hoping I wasn't quite the scarecrow I feared I might be. I had no time to panic further, because then the bedroom door opened and Naomi came back in. In her hands two steaming mugs. (God help me...her unfettered breasts bounced so temptingly as she walked towards me...I swallowed hard and rigidly kept my gaze on her eyes) A refill coffee for her and a fresh one for me. I took the mug from her hand carefully, still anxious about moving too quickly. This time, instead of sitting back on the chair, she perched on the edge of the bed next to me. She smiled again, this time warmly, sipping on her coffee as I did mine.
"Sooo..." she said "...about last night...?"
I opened my mouth to apologise again, but she shook her head.
"Enough with the sorrys Emily. You fucked up...I get that. Going to a gay club was brave of you, but taking drugs from a random was just plain dumb. But then you know that. No need for you to carry on with the sack cloth and ashes...you nearly had an experience you'd have taken a year to get over, but as luck would have it, me and Mini were there. Problem solved"
I swallowed another mouthful of hot coffee while I considered how to respond to that. I don't know what I was expecting today. Anger? Disappointment? Whatever, I wasn't getting either. Naomi was being her normal direct self. I did fuck up. End of. But I needed to thank her...and the aforementioned Mini. I can't deny I got a very unpleasant twinge at the mention of her name. If I hadn't monopolised their evening things would have taken a very different turn. Her and Naomi out on the town. Drinks, a few dances, then back here to take advantage of this very comfortable bed. Unwarranted jealousy was added to my mix of emotions.
"I know you don't want to hear it Naomi..." I started "...but I am sorry...really sorry. I've ruined your night out with your girlfriend, took your bed and now you have to pretend I'm not a complete fuck up, just to be even nicer to me. I don't deserve your kindness...so...thanks for the rescue and the bed...oh and this coffee...but if you point me in the way of my clothes, I'll splash some water on my face and get out of here? Will you thank Mini for me too...?"
I paused for breath as she carried on staring at me.
"Not so fast" she said slowly "I think we need to talk, don't you Emily? We've kissed...twice...and it was nice...more than nice if I'm honest. But we can't go on skirting round each other, now can we? Obviously there is something between us. Something that keeps making us bump into each other. Last night...well, last night was understandable. You want to break out of the mould you've been stuck in for the past few years, I get that. Going to the club? Yep, totally get that too. Forget the fact that you got preyed upon by those two fuckwits...it happens. But do you not think that maybe fate or kismet...or whatever the fuck plays with our lives...is trying to tell us something?"
I nodded, even though I wasn't sure where this was going.
"So..." she breathed "Lets start with the facts, yeah?"
I swallowed another mouthful of cooling coffee before shrugging. She was right, left to me, this conversation would be short and unsatisfying for both of us. I was overwhelmed with a mixture of embarrassment and a desire to jump on her. Better by far that we at least have a conversation...even if I still felt a bit vulnerable.
"Right...the facts...you've tried being straight...and we'll just draw a veil over the whole Richard Hurst thing because, well frankly because I hate him and all his type...but that's by the way. Anyway, you've tried being a straight girl and its not a goer any more...yeah?"
"Yeah" I said dejectedly...no point in arguing the point when everything she'd said was dead on.
"So now we move on to...well us...I suppose" she said.
"There isn't an us" I said automatically, which while also strictly true, was simultaneously the biggest lie ever told in this corrupt world.
Naomi stared at me hard before continuing.
"That's a crock of shit and we both know it. OK, we haven't done any more than share a couple of pretty tame kisses so far...but are you telling me that's as far as you see it going..or want it to go?"
I couldn't say that and I wasn't about to try. I mumbled something vacuous in answer, but she was obviously on a roll.
"So Emily...I fancy you...and if it wasn't for Mini...its very likely I would have asked you out by now. The thing is...what do you think would happen if I did?"
I shook my head, which was instantly filled with competing thoughts. She said she fancies me...but she has a girlfriend...etc etc.
In the end I just gave it up. I was tired, despite the comfortable nights sleep and although there was still loads to say, the facts were obvious. If she fancied me, then I really couldn't pretend any longer.
"I...I like you Naomi...I like you a lot...and although I have no right to expect anything from you after I behaved like a twat last night...I would say yes without a seconds hesitation. But..."
"Yeah" Naomi said sadly "But...I have a girlfriend. So whatever happens next between us will have to wait until I talk to Mini. She's lovely and deserves better than this. Shall we just agree to leave it for 24 hours? I'll go and see her, try to sort something out. In the meantime, maybe its best if you get dressed...I've left a clean pair of knickers in the bathroom and you can borrow one of my old coats to go over the things you were wearing last night?"
I felt a surge of disappointment that I was being so obviously dismissed, but she was right. I needed to go home, sort my shit out and then maybe we could talk properly. I nodded and Naomi got up from beside me.
"Right...well,,,bathrooms on the left. Clean towels and a spare toothbrush in the cupboard over the sink. I'll just wash these cups up and..."
With that she left me to my thoughts.
Ten minutes later, washed and tidied up, dressed in a borrowed sweatshirt and last nights short skirt, black tights and boots. I had a twinge when I saw that they had been neatly folded and laid out for me. The someone who had stripped me last night had seen most of my body I guess. Part of me was happy about that, but sad that I wasn't even awake to enjoy it. I walked out into the hall to find Naomi holding out a RNLI dark blue fleece. Somehow I wasn't surprised that it was a charity supporting coat. It was typical Naomi, even if I wasn't quite sure what typical Naomi was yet.
I took it from her and waited for her to unlock the front door.
"There was a cloakroom ticket in your pocket Em" she said and I smiled inwardly at the nickname slip. "If your jacket was expensive, better get over there today and collect it...most clubs are open after lunch for the cleaners and stuff...?"
I thanked her. The leather jacket had been the best part of £500, so I certainly hoped it was still hanging up there. I would just have to brave the knowing smirks of the manager when I did the reverse walk of shame.
I was hoping for a hug, but Naomi was careful to just kiss me gently on the cheek. It wasn't much, but probably more than I deserved, I guess.
XXX
Naomi
I sighed with relief when the door closed behind Emily. Just as well she didn't know how difficult I had found it to contain myself, both when she was in my bed and when she stood by the door, obviously hoping for a hug. I wanted to more than anything, but I just didn't trust myself around her...at least until I'd had the chance to speak to Mini. That was a conversation I wasn't much looking forward to.
Time for a shower, I thought grimly. Maybe wash the guilt off me.
Which didn't exactly go to plan. The bathroom held the scent of a recently scrubbed Emily Fitch. I'm not sure if that qualifies as an aphrodisiac, but it certainly had that effect on me.
Soaping my body, I started to remember bits of last night. Very pretty and shapely bits. Taking her skirt and tights off and looking for way too long at her smooth thighs and those quasi innocent tiny knickers. Pulling off her sweat soiled tee and noting that her bra was matching. A bra that I unclipped and dropped to the floor. Pert, well rounded breasts acted like magnets for my eyes. It took a deep breath and an iron will to cover that luscious, toned body with a fresh tee. My hands actually trembled as I manipulated the material over her head and arms. Once, a nipple touched my forearm and the instant heat that flashed between my legs made me gasp out loud. Luckily she was almost boneless by then, allowing me to calm down and put her safely under the duvet.
But now, naked and buzzing under the power shower, I allowed my thoughts to go where they wanted. In my head, she woke from her drugged state and smiled at me as I stripped her. In my head she kissed me...not chastely as before, but open mouthed, hungry. In my head I kissed her back, moaning into her mouth as our bodies writhed together.
In my head she was wet and willing...eager for me to take her. I gave in and sagged against the water warmed tiles. My fingers found what they were looking for between my open thighs. I let my head rest on the wall and used my middle fingers to do their familiar dance of delight. It didn't take long...why would it... I had been putting this off ever since I brought her through the front door. With a few dozen practised movements, my fingers stroked me into an intense and glorious orgasm. I shuddered under the warm spray, whispering her name over and over as I came in pure rolling waves of pleasure.
I stood in the spray for a few moments after, trying to make the warm water wash the guilt from me.
Now I had to pay the piper for my brief solitary pleasure. Now I had to talk to Mini...
Right...that's your Saturday update. Hopefully one more chapter before Christmas.
A Happy Christmas and a wonderful New Year to the lovely people who read and review my story(s). More Naomily in 2017...because they will never die in our hearts...right?
