The last day of the year and I'm about to update for the final time in 2016. Thank you again for your support and praise during the telling of this story and others. I promise to update regularly in the New Year. Hopefully, it will be a happy and prosperous one for all of us. My wish is to see a lot more of Lily and Kat, so maybe directors and producers could get their finger out and cast them in something thrilling?...Preferably together!

This chapter involves a time shift. Not a big one as I'm not a fan of them in general, but I think its necessary to move things forward. When we left Emily, she was debating whether to call Naomi...well, she hasn't. Its always easier not to do something, isn't it? And Naomi? Well, contrary to what you might suspect, she hasn't fallen back into Minis arms, tempting as that must have been. Well, not in the biblical sense anyway. Mini has been more of a friend (one Naomi thinks she doesn't deserve at all) of late.

Here we go then...

Naomi

"Come on Naoms...we'll be fucking late if you don't get your arse into gear?"

Amy's voice echoes in the small apartment as I stood behind the bedroom door, huffing in exasperation at the unwillingness of any of my fucking clothing to make me look sensational. The discarded piles of almost my entire wardrobe on the bed pay testament to that. But she was right...we would be late.

Not that I have any enthusiasm for tonight anyway. I hardly know the girl. Not Amy, who's suddenly appeared on the scene as my best mate at work. Sara...the girl who is getting married next week and for some inexplicable reason has invited me to her hen party. I suppose I should have answered her invite, but it wasn't till Amy virtually frogmarched me in here that I gave in.

Since...well... since the non event that Emily Fitch turned out to be two and a bit months ago, I have at least slowly been putting my life back together. It's amazing how a chance meeting, a couple of chaste kisses and one breathless evening in bed with a stranger can throw planet Campbell so far off its orbit. I have Mini to thank for rebalancing me, at least at first. When she turned up at my door the morning after...well, the morning after...that. I was about to lose my mind and probably my dignity too. Running round to Emily's place would have been stupid and as it turns out, pointless. Because she's been back in town ages ...or so I believe...but I haven't heard a single word from her.

It shouldn't hurt so much, should it? In any other universe, a stuttering one night relationship, specially with someone who's been playing the straight card most of her life, would have caused me little anxiety. I'd have put it down to experience, remembered the good bits (Jesus, her body, her lips, her taste...) and filed them away in my wank bank for lonely nights in my flat, fodder for occasional visits down memory lane with my small, battery powered companion. But it's not worked out like that...not at all.

I can't seem to get her out of my head, even though I know its a lost cause. No one who is actually interested takes this long to get back in touch. I know I fucked up. Jesus, I apologised and grovelled enough for her to know that much at least. The one line text she sent in reply felt totally cold and formal. The sort of thing you write to someone who means nothing to you. Its not as if I've never been dumped before. It happens, I have a sad weekend afterwards, watching my Lip Service box set and consuming a few bottles of red...then I move on. Life is a bitch...deal with it. But why is it I still spin my head like an extra from the Walking Dead if I spot glossy chestnut hair in the street? Makes for some interesting apologies to the passers by I collide with...but anyway.

Emily Fitch? The past, right?

Mini was a darling for the first week, but even someone as forgiving as her is never going to stick around to watch her ex wallow over someone else so obviously, is she? She kept me company, made me hot drinks and listened to the tale of woe I poured out for two nights. I even slept with her.

No, not like that. I didn't need that, of all things and she wasn't offering sex anyway. Her sad face when she thought I wasn't watching told me she was suffering in her own way too. No, she just cuddled me on the couch until I went to sleep, then next morning, got up and made me breakfast. She stayed the next night too, this time in my bed. It was a comfort, but by then I was feeling more angry than upset at the departed Miss Fitch, so Mini left on the following morning with a pale, resigned face and a gentle kiss on my cheek.

"I know this is a fucking cliché Naoms" she said, cupping my face in her hands "...but she really isn't worth all this grief. If she's stupid enough to dump you over an overenthusiastic shag..." (I'd given her edited highlights the first blubbering night), "...then she needs to fuck off back to straight girl heaven and leave beautiful, sexy dykes like you to the rest of us willing lezzers. I wouldn't treat you like that, babe?"

I knew it was the truth and part of me wanted to throw my arms around her and beg for forgiveness. But both of us knew it wasn't a goer, at least in the foreseeable future. I was nursing a broken heart, which is ridiculous on all sorts of levels, but there is is. I admitted to myself after Mini had gone and I was sitting alone in my silent apartment, that what I was suffering from wasn't the usual post dumping blues. Whatever toxic potion Emily Fitch had given me with that first soft kiss was still working. I've had a broken heart before...and to get one, you first have to admit to the dreaded L word. And I don't mean lesbian.

But anyway, that wasn't solving my current dilemma. What to wear tonight.

Amy rattled the door handle again and I finally gave in and opened it. Luckily she's as straight as the proverbial, so her cursory glance at my skimpy underwear was purely academic.

"Christ Naoms...I thought you'd be ready by now. What the fuck?"

But letting her in was a welcome distraction. She efficiently sorted me out, giving just an amused snort at the outfit I was considering, then scanning the dresses still hanging on the wardrobe door.

"This" she said simply "...it's electric blue, so it matches those gorgeous eyes and it's low at the front so you can use your tits to reel in those hot dykes at the party?"

I had to laugh. It's been a while since I had a straight friend to take the piss out of me. Mini was gorgeous, but she always had an agenda of her own when I dressed up. Usually, how few buttons and zips she would have to navigate before I was naked... At least with Amy, I was getting an impersonal opinion. She nodded to herself as I pulled the short dress off the hanger. I hadn't worn it for...well months. When I bought it, I was single and looking for something which was tempting but not too slutty. OK, the hem was reasonably high on my thighs, showing off more leg than I usually did and the neckline was a fraction away from Moll Flanders, but I have good tits. Not too big, not too small. Goldilocks tits, as Mini used to tease me before her mouth descended on them. No, with a decent push up bra and a bit of tugging, it fitted the bill just right. I looked at myself in the dressing mirror and allowed myself a small smirk. Teeth and tits Naoms, I told myself, teeth and fucking tits. Maybe there'll be some lonely lesbian at the party, gagging for a piece of this... At this stage I would settle for a bi curious housewife. That girl in bought ledger...Roberta? She was definitely going along tonight. Short, black haired and olive skinned and gloriously built, with a soft Edinburgh accent that reminded me slightly of Mini, but not enough to put me off. I remember getting coffee next to her last week and there was definitely a gaydar ding in the background when we chatted. That fuck off diamond on her ring finger says she is engaged...but he won't be there tonight she told me. Those amazing tits were definitely worth exploring...

"Right...well, when you've finished admiring yourself and imagining how you're gonna shag some innocent tonight...we have a party to go to Naoms?" Amy interrupted my daydream.

Right, I thought. Show time. I followed my mate out of the apartment to the impatient taxi driver outside.

XXX

Emily.

"For fucks sake Ems...we're gonna be late!" Katie yelled outside the bedroom door. The fact that she had monopolised the bathroom for a whole hour while I walked up and down outside in my dressing gown, waiting for her to emerge, had nothing to do with us being late of course. I should have known agreeing to get ready at her place was a bad idea. But as usual, I was persuaded. I really, really don't want to go tonight anyway. Hen nights are full of pissed up women with cock shaped drinking straws and stupid obscenely worded silk sashes. I hate them on general principal. What made this one twice as bad was the fact that it was Sara's hen night. Yeah, Sara Reemes, the queen bee of JI logistics. Yeah, that JI. The company I had stalked out of months ago. The only saving grace was that Richard Hurst would definitely not be there. I'd been told that he was in California, taking his trusting wife on an extended holiday. Probably making up for another little office indiscretion. Two months was plenty of time for him to have replaced me on the boardroom carpet. There wasn't exactly a shortage of nubile assistants who would do anything I had been willing to do to bask in his favour. I bet the chilled water machine was already working overtime. Richard does love his quickie lunchtime blow jobs...

Anyway, I shook myself back to reality as Katie hammered again at the door. I was ready anyway. Despite her arguments against, I'd chosen black. The classic LBD. Short enough to show off my legs and low enough at the front to invite the odd admiring glance. Not that I really wanted that, but a night out with Katie guaranteed male attention, so I had to compete, however weakly, with her more...voluptuous...figure.

However there was another fly in the ointment...well two flies actually. Sara wasn't bothered about having a classic hen night. You know, all girls, squirty cream and male strippers. Apparently it was fine for the guests to bring a male partner if they wanted to.

And of course, Katie wanted.

Trouble is...her new 'friend' had a friend. A male friend. So guess who else is coming to dinner?

Yep...after all the heartache and soul searching I did when I was at JJ's (he was his normal kind and attentive self) here I am, back at square one. Pretending to be straight so that my sister can shag this new guy she's met at the gym.

Neil, his name is...not Katies beau, my own bit of hetero camouflage. Actually he's a really nice guy. He's blonde and blue eyed (OK, I seem to have a type) and sweet natured. I've been out with him twice now before tonight. Given that I'm nursing a broken heart over a certain Naomi Campbell, you might well question why I've jumped straight back into the closet with a stray penis?

Because I'm a fucking coward, that's why. The longer I left it, calling Naomi I mean, the easier it got to pretend it was all a big mistake. Not gay, not falling in love with a tall blonde with startling eyes and the softest lips and cleverest tongue in the world. Straight...(ish)

The fact that pretending to be straight has got me through almost a decade is the familiar comfort blanket I keep going back to. Katie is happy, my mum is already cooing about 'this new young man who has stolen my little Emsys heart' (yeah, right) and going out with Neil has been as unthreatening as being JJ's best mate at college. OK, I know JJ would jump my bones with the slightest encouragement, even with his new relationship, but Neil is very similar to him. He's softly spoken, kind and generous. Oh, and he's content, at least so far, with a perfunctory kiss goodnight and some hand holding. Inside, I'm dreading the inevitable night when he will expect more, but hey, I'm the girl who sucked middle aged executive dick on demand, remember? Lying on a bed for half an hour under the gentle and undemanding Neil isn't that high a price to pay for a quiet, less dangerous life...is it?

Or so I tell myself when I allow doubts to creep in. The night with Naomi, even if it is clouded with an abrupt ending is without doubt the most fun I've ever had with my clothes off. But life can't be all shattering orgasms, hot kisses and soft smooth skin, can it? Naomi was...no is...dangerous. She woke feelings in me which I thought I'd suppressed for good. Better I go back to being sweet little straight Emily...

Again I shook myself as Katie huffed outside. Ready then.

Walking out to the cab, I filtered her inane chatter out. We were picking the 'boys' up from a pub a mile from the event. I just hoped Neil had the sense to moderate his alcohol intake. Katies new guy, Rob was a bit of a career drinker, but Neil had been very sensible up to now. The last thing I wanted to do was arrive with a pissed up escort. Bad enough that eyes would be on me as the dear departed National Accounts Exec. And at least I knew that the person I dreaded seeing again would not be there. Katie had spoken to Sara just yesterday and she said that Naomi Campbell hadn't replied to her invite. Part of me was relieved, especially in view of my escort, but part of me felt the pang of guilt I'd been carrying for the past few weeks. I said I would call her...but it was so much easier not to?

We pulled up outside the pub and I was sent inside to winkle our escorts out. Neil had a bit of a dopy grin on his face as I walked across the sticky carpet to where they were standing at the bar, sinking pints. By the flush on his cheeks, someone had been drinking more than usual, I ignored the whispered comments from guys I passed. I was a bit overdressed for this place, but its not the first time I've heard 'Whoah...I'd definitely tap that' from randoms.

When I got to them, Rob was just about to order another. I touched his arm as he held out a twenty.

"Katie's outside in the taxi Rob..and you know how impatient she can be?" I said silkily.

His eyes lit up and I realised him and me have very different ideas about Katies impatience. Neil and I may not have got past goodnight kisses and brief hugs, but my sister, once she sets her sights on a victim, uses all her skills to snare him. I flushed slightly as he leered at me (well, more accurately at my tits)

"Right Ems" he said clapping an arm round the equally flushed Neil "...better not keep the girls waiting...otherwise they won't give us our treats later on, right mate?"

I groaned inwardly as Neil copied his alpha mate and ogled my tits. Fuck I thought, it looks like I'll be inspecting the ceiling tonight after all. I'd been hoping for at least another platonic month...

They sank the last of their lager and followed me out of the door. I turned just as Rob winked at a middle aged guy sitting by the exit. "Twins" he mouthed silently and I groaned again.

Fucking boys and twins...

Luckily the journey to the venue was short. What with beer fumes and Katie greeting her escort with an open mouthed extended snog, I was feeling a bit light headed as the warm air in the cab fugged up my brain. Neil sat quietly beside me as the two opposite continued to swap spit. At least his beer goggles hadn't made him brave enough to try to compete...Thank God.

I got out first, glad to escape the unwanted side show and the smell of stale lager. I paid the cabbie (obviously...Katie was otherwise occupied) and brushed my dress down. Show time. We walked across the crunchy gravel to the door. Two black suited goons eyed us as we got to them. I rolled my eyes as they looked from me to Katie and back again. I could almost hear the erections stiffening. Fucking boys and twins...

Neil reached down and held my hand as we walked in, with Katie and lover boy glued together behind. For once my sister was obviously distracted enough to let me be first to the grand entrance.

Inside, there was a pink silk and glitter covered archway in front of us with a banner above it reading 'Congratulations Sara' so it wasn't hard to spot where we were supposed to go. I took a deep breath as a second doorman moved aside to let us into the hall, where 80's music was already pumping. Someone had obviously started early, it was only just after 9.30pm.

Stepping inside, gripping Neil's hand tightly for courage, I fixed a bright smile on my face and prepared to meet the bride to be. She was talking to Rebecca from Accounts just inside the door. My smile suffered a bit as I recalled that she was Naomi's supervisor. Doubtless Monday morning would be full of gossip about the return of the prodigal daughter to the JI fold. This event might be unconnected with the company, but scanning the room, I could see several faces I knew. The grapevine would be relentless...

"Emily hi" Sara said brightly. Judging by the flush on her cheeks, she was another one who had started early on the bubbly. A full glass was in her hand which slopped slightly as she air kissed me "...and who's this?" she asked, smirking at Neil.

I looked at him sideways, His semi pissed smile hadn't slipped a bit, unlike mine.

"Err...this is Neil my..." I started. Friend I meant to say.

"Boyfriend" he said and swung our joined hands as if to demonstrate ownership. I stiffened at that, but just then my sister intervened. Lucky for Neil, I thought fiercely, he isn't my boyf...

But just as the words bubbled to the surface it all became academic. As Sara moved aside to greet my sister and her actual boyfriend, I could see the tables along the wall behind her for the first time.

Sitting on a chair, glass in hand, looking absolutely gorgeous in a blue dress which showed off her legs and tits...was Naomi Campbell.

She was talking to a short girl next to her ..Roberta, was it? I vaguely remembered her from one of the ground floor JI offices. But my brain short circuited at that point so I couldn't tell you another thing about her, because at that moment, Naomi looked over.

Her face was as beautiful and desirable as ever. I just had time to register my heart pounding uncontrollably when she recognised me. Her eyes, always the thing that drew me in, fixed on mine. I saw surprise, pleasure and doubt flash across them. The she looked down at my hand, which Neil was still holding possessively. Her eyes changed then. They narrowed and another emotion shot across the room at me. Disgust...mixed with something even more unpleasant. Hatred.

I actually flinched at that glare. She'd never looked at me like that, even when I was being a super bitch to her on her first day. It wasn't a long look. But it hurt like a stab to the chest. Then, in an instant, she turned away and started talking again to the pneumatic Roberta. Neil tugged at my hand, obviously eager to make for the free bar. I wanted to say no, to stay like this, cocooned in utter shock. But people had started to notice my frozen state.

"For fucks sake Emily" Katie hissed in my ear "Have you been on the marching powder? You're standing there like a loon while the free bar is open...take your boyfriend over there so I we can get some of that expensive champagne?"

I let the 'boyfriend' jibe pass...there really was no point in arguing now, was there? The person I least wanted (and most wanted) to bump into was here...looking frankly stunning...and I turn up with a pretend boyfriend, just to rub her nose in it. Whatever tonight brought...it really couldn't be any worse from now on, could it?

Foolish hope as it turned out.

XXX

Naomi

My first thought as I saw who had just walked in was "My God...it's Emily" quickly followed by "Jesus Mary and Joseph...she looks...fucking stunning"

Unfortunately that was as good as the night got. A millisecond afterwards I saw what she was holding onto...or who.

A fucking guy. A nice enough looking guy, all floppy blonde hair and boyish good looks. But a fucking GUY?"

I might have given up on Emily ever being with me as a lover again. I might have got used to the fact that she'd dumped me because I'd come on too strong. But what I had never expected was for her to turn up here...to stand right in front of me...with a brand new male accessory attached.

Emotions rushed across my mind like a sand storm. I managed to keep my face neutral (ish) but I knew my eyes would be easy to read. They always have been. I could never lie to my mother as a kid. One look into my eyes and she just knew what I was really thinking.

First I registered pleasure...that she was here and so beautiful, mixed with shock. Then sadness that she was here without me. Oh and then...then the glance at those clasped hands. The adoring look the dick who was with her was sending her. This was no decoy tame cock, brought along to keep the gossips at bay. The looks he was shooting at her were unmistakeable. They said, she's mine, I want her.

And I fucking hated it. Hated him...but more venomously, hated her.

How fucking dare she? After all the things we talked about. All the understanding I sent her way, all the hours listening to her fears and doubts. All for fucking nothing, because here she was, large as life...with another rent a dick. A rent a dick who was looking at her like he wanted to eat her.

So the last look I gave her was right out of the Naomi Campbell hatred locker. One of the looks I save for my worst enemies. The girl at school who thought that the word 'dyke' was the funniest ever invented. Funny enough to use every day. The look I gave her nearly froze her on the spot. The one I aimed at that college kid who thought because I was drunk and leaning on a wall outside some lamo student party, he could cop a feel of my tits. The one I shot at Tony Stonem when he thought I was another willing victim. It is a hard look, an icy look. It says you're dead to me...you don't exist. I loathe you.

And with all those looks in the past...with all the practice I'd got giving them...I made this one the fiercest of all. I saw her physically shrink in front of me. She just stared back at me, like a rabbit coming face to face with a hungry fox.

I let her stew for another second, then dismissed her with a flick of my hair. I turned back to the person I had been slyly cultivating since I got here. The straight (ish) but eminently turnable Roberta. It took a monumental effort, but I forced all thoughts of Emily Fitch from my mind. Tonight...I'm getting pissed...going to dance my feet off..then I'm gonna take the uncomplicated Roberta back to my apartment, where I intend to fuck her pretty brains out before showing her the door in the morning.

Yeah...thats what I'm gonna do.

XXX

Well...that part of my night went pretty much as planned. Ignoring the Fitches, which was hard but not impossible, given that they monopolised the free bar rather than doing much circulating. I noted that Emily and her date sat quietly by the bar as her sister cornered the market in PDA's. Katie and her guy were quite the party animals it seemed. I spared just a couple of dark looks at the prettier Fitch, She spent most of the night sipping steadily from her glass, shooting me desperate looks when she thought I wasn't watching. I studiously ignored her. Instead I worked diligently on the receptive Roberta.

I endured her inevitable monologue about her fiancée Gavin and she eventually realised what I was really after. A couple of slow dances, copping a feel of that pert little arse when we were surrounded by enough bodies to make it less obvious. I could still feel Emily's eyes on me as I laughed and swayed with the girl in front of me.

Serves her right, I thought maliciously. I owe her fuck all.

I had to leave early. Roberta was getting a bit nervous about too close a contact, given that at least three of the other guests knew she was engaged to a guy. Luckily that meant I could whisper in her ear that it would be nice to get some fresh air?

She nodded so hard I thought her pretty head would fall off. We got our jackets and I winked at Amy as we left. She was being chatted up by two sales guys by the door. With any luck she would be getting the pick of the litter later...the loser would have to use his right hand to work off his frustrations. I knew Amy was a match for any bar room Romeo...

I spared one final glance for the treacherous Miss Fitch. The sad look she sent me was powerful enough to make my breath catch. She looked utterly miserable. Mind you, her date wasn't looking quite so chippy by now either. I'm guessing he had realised that any chance of getting his leg over the delectable Fitch was fast disappearing. He might be a guy and therefore thick when it comes to women, but he'd caught a couple of the looks she'd sent me during the evening. Someone else might have to dig out the pornos from under the bed tonight, it didn't look like Miss Fitch was in the mood to put out.

Good, I thought evilly. I hope I've spoiled your night good and proper. Bitch.

XXX

Roberta was as flexible and submissive as I expected. I got her back to my place in a cab. Although I restricted our contact to a few teasing kisses and some hand holding. No point in scaring her off.

But when I got her inside I needn't have worried about her reluctance in the hall. This obviously wasn't the first time this girl had tasted the delights of Sappho.

She walked straight into the bedroom, turned on the bedside lamp, which gave the room a pink glow and unzipped her dress, dropping it in a puddle around her ankles. My mouth went dry at the sight. That olive skin and voluptuous figure drew me to her. All thoughts of Emily Fitch disappeared. Roberta reached behind her back and released those glorious tits from the confines of her lacy bra. Fuck, they were magnificent. Big tits have never really been my thing. Not that I object to a fine pair, its just that eyes and a pert behind are the things I normally notice first. But Jesus, they were amazing. Full, firm and tipped with dark brown nipples. Nipples that were already excited.

It didn't take me more than a second to start worshipping them with my hands and mouth. She groaned helplessly as I sucked on them and squeezed gently. Our bodies collapsed onto the bed and my expensive dress joined hers on the floor.

She turned out to be a submissive...which was just about perfect for the way I was feeling. No nervous beginner...no crying if I was a little rough pushing her head between my legs. Rather she craved it.

Right at the beginning, when we were kissing passionately and getting our underwear out of the way, she broke away, whispering in my ear urgently.

"Use me Naomi...I like it hard...dirty, fast. Tell me what you like and you can do it to me...anything...everything you like. Tie me up, make me stay totally quiet while you fuck me...just do it...?"

Jesus... that's a request a drunk and horny lesbian could never refuse?

So I fucked her. Fucked her with my curled fingers. Fucked her with my nimble tongue, feeling her hands scrabbling in my hair, mouth open but soundless because I'd forbidden her to make a single sound until she was actually coming. It seemed to make her come harder. Then she fucked me. Skilfully, hungrily. When I came in her mouth she was watching my face with hot eyes, tongue and fingers working furiously to make it last.

We dozed for a bit, then went at it again. This time I straddled her shoulders and lowered myself onto her red lips. Again she moaned helplessly as I rode her mouth.

Again and again we fucked. Because thats what it was...just fucking. No love, no attraction beyond the physical. I wanted her and she wanted to be taken. Made to come. I doubt whether Gavin was quite as adventurous in bed, given how she howled her release.

Finally, when the dawn was brightening the bedroom and we were both exhausted, we slept, tangled together in damp sheets. Spent.

When I woke at noon, she was gone. Just the scent of sex in the air and her ruined knickers, torn and still soaked with her excitement, lying by the bed to remind me of last nights excesses.

I was sore between my legs and my tits ached from the constant stimulation of lips and fingers. But most of all my mind ached.

Because although I'd properly sated my physical needs...my head wasn't fooled for a moment. I curled up and forced myself to sleep again. Hopefully without dreaming.

XXX

In another bedroom a few miles away...Emily Fitch was waking up too...and not alone.

OK, last 2016 chapter. I hope you liked it. Next one will be up next week. Probably Friday? Less angst and more Naomily, I hear you say...coming right up.

Reviews would be nice! Happy New Year!