OK, so thanks again for the lovely reviews. I treasure each and every one of them. This chapter is set two weeks after the last, so things have moved on a bit. Not that the Naomily lovers of us will find much comfort in that fact. Emily has retreated into her denial shell and Naomi, well Naomi has other options. It can sometimes be a long and rocky road for them, but I am enjoying portraying Emily as the little doubter this time. Our favourite blonde is the one who is certain about her sexual identity. I find it refreshing, if off canon. I hope you do too?

Naomi

Well, this is interesting I thought as the naked girl next to me snuffled in her sleep and gripped my waist a bit tighter. It had been a good night, in more ways that one. Nice food, a bottle and a half of a really nice Margeaux followed by coffee, mints and...well a rather deliciously unexpected extra dessert course back at my apartment.

I say apartment. It's more like a glorified bedsit really. OK, I have a separate bathroom and kitchen, but the main room doubles as a sitting and sleeping room. I started off with one of those futon things, but believe me, they are neither pleasant to sleep or sit on. Let alone stand up to the sort of gymnastics last night promised.

I persuaded my mum to swap the uncomfortable blue futon for my old double bed. That way I only have to endure a night on the lumpy horror if I stay over at Chez Gina, which isn't often as I only live 3 miles away from my old house. Now that Kieran is a permanent fixture back there, I leave them to it most of the time. No decorum, either of them. I thought it was only horny teenagers who regularly get caught by horrified relatives shagging on every horizontal surface in the house? Apparently not. It seems catching my politics teacher buried under the duvet while my mum stared at the ceiling when I was in 6th form was not a one off. Off the fucking scale on the embarrassment meter, I can tell you. I can barely accept the fact that my mother, the eternal hippy, must have had sex at least once...I give you Naomi Campbell as exhibit one... but anything other than vanilla missionary sex and Gina Campbell in the same sentence is just fucking wrong, yeah?

Anyway, I digress. I am snoozing in a comfortable post coitus haze, having more than made up for my recent drought in my own bedroom stakes. No need for three guesses for the reason.

Mini McGuiness.

I didn't shag her the night we had dinner after I witnessed Emily's meltdown. That would have been crass and anyway, what do you take me for? My days of getting hammered before spending ten breathless minutes in an alleyway with a randoms hand up my skirt are gone...well, mostly. I'm not saying something like that is completely off the table, but a girl has to have some standards, right?

No, after Emily locked herself into the toilet cubicle and I wasted a few more minutes waiting for her to come out after the other woman left, I kind of gave up the unequal struggle. I mean, she was definitely gonna kiss me. No other interpretation was possible. I know when a girl is into me and she was well into me just then. Her eyes were closing and that open cupid bow mouth was a fraction of an inch from mine. I remember my tongue twitching as I closed my own eyes. I hadn't expected it at all. Right out of the blue.

Giving her a hug when she was crying was a natural reaction, don't you think? I'm not massively big on hugging normally, but if ever a woman needed one at that moment, she did. She squeezed my waist almost desperately as I surrounded her with my arms. The kissing bit? Well, I was hardly going to refuse was I? Even with the vagrant panda look, she was still drop dead gorgeous. Her body fitted mine perfectly. Too fucking perfectly probably. If we hadn't been interrupted, Lord knows where a first kiss might have led...I may be past alleyway shags (shut up) but the odd club cubicle has echoed to mutual female pleasure in recent times. A healthy girl has needs?

But that aside, we were interrupted. Way too soon for anything more physical to happen. The fact that she backed off me so fast I almost fell over made it quite clear her momentary loss of control was done for the duration. The usual "Sorry, I made a mistake. I'm not..." following, was about par for the course. If she really was 90% straight, it made some sort of fucked up sense I suppose. She was upset, I gave her a friendly cuddle and her hormones took over. End of.

If we had then bumped into each other now and again over the next two weeks and behaved like slightly embarrassed acquaintances...all shy smiles and sideways looks, I would have put it down to experience and got on with my life. She may be truly beautiful, very sexy and all that, but she wouldn't be the first gorgeous girl I've been knocked back by. But that didn't happen. She didn't even come in for the next two days. I heard Rebecca whisper to one of the other girls that there was 'trouble in paradise' so I'm guessing whatever stroke this fucker Richard pulled to upset her was the reason.

I did see her on the Thursday after, but the bitch completely blanked me. Turned the other way, as if I was a bit of insignificant furniture. I burned at that. All I'd tried to do was be nice. OK, so she didn't actually fancy me, I'll live. But I do exist, and I'm fucked if some stuck up pillow princess is going to treat me like shit, even if she is a senior suit. So on the Friday, after two more avoidances, I made a point of being in reception when she got in. I stood by the lift and waited for her to appear.

She did one of those comic double takes when she saw me standing there, but put on a brave face as I pressed the button for the doors to open. It was her hard luck no one else was getting in, so as the doors slid shut, I turned to face her after hitting the numbers for both our floors.

I'm not the worlds most subtle person. But I think she knows that now. I let her have it. Not a shouting match, just a controlled few sentences to let her know I thought she had behaved unforgiveably.

"Just to let you know Emily...my first thought when I see you isn't I want to rip your clothes off. You were upset and I tried to comfort you, I get that you don't fancy me. But I like you...well I did once anyway. You can ignore me all you want now, I'm done. But just know this. You wanted to kiss me. I wouldn't have said no if you had...you're beautiful and I'm only human. But beauty is skin deep, so I'm told. Well, I just got the evidence it definitely doesn't go any further with you. I won't bother you again...your virtue and your reputation is safe. Have a nice life"

The doors opened on my floor and I stepped out with my head up. She didn't say a single word until I'd finished, just stared dumbly at me with what looked like real tears in her eyes. As I brushed past her, I thought she whispered something low and sad, but I wasn't about to give the people waiting for the lift on my floor anything else to gossip about. It was only when I got to my desk (luckily before anyone else was in the office) that I let out a long shuddering breath and put my head in my hands for a moment. I felt like I had been far too brutal, but I needed to do it. For me not for her. But her proximity even in that way, had certainly messed with my libido.

Well, a week from then, we pass in the corridors or sometimes in the lobby now, but she keeps her eyes firmly down and we walk by like total strangers. Which is what we are I suppose.

XXX

Mini stirred beside me then and I came back to the present. I might not have slept with my distant ex on that first night out, but it only took a week. She's still a spectacular shag. So life isn't all bad... I gave in and settled back to doze a bit longer. It was Sunday after all.

She needs her rest, I thought wickedly as Mini murmured quietly as I stroked her shoulder, she probably doesn't remember how horny I get on long Sunday morning lay ins. Someone is gonna be finding religion in an hour or so...

XXX

Emily

I opened my eyes carefully. It was obviously still early. The morning sunshine seared my eyes as I slowly came to. That champagne was stronger than I was used to, or maybe it was just me getting old. Either way I had the beginnings of a world class hangover. Fuck Katie and her 'just order another bottle Ems...we're on a free break for fucks sake'. Yeah a break, that's it.

Slowly the world sorted itself into recognisable shapes. The room was huge, at least 15 metres square, with two enormous French windows looking out over the gold course. The bed was huge too...a Queen sized monster with a fancy Egyptian cotton duvet cover and duck-down filling. Expensive...like the meal last night. Like the spa and beauty salon downstairs. I should have been more than happy to wake up here, shouldn't I?

Katie certainly would be. Her latest dupe Marcus might regret the gesture when his Amex bill comes in at the end of the month, but my sister will already be planning another assault on his credit limit by then.

I pushed my hair out of my eyes and tried to sit up. Bad move. The room swam alarmingly, so I sank back onto one of the overstuffed pillows. Jesus, I must have been tanked last night.

Just then a deep snore came from the bed beside me. I groaned then quietly, so as not to wake my co sleeper.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Richard.

Yes that Richard. And no, I'm not proud of myself. Back in the arms of my esteemed boss. Well, back in his bed at least. That little stunt he pulled with his mate Rodney should have made me kick him firmly into touch, don't you think...well?

Me too.

But he can be very smooth and persuasive. Specially when I withhold his 'treats' I stayed away from work for two days, calling in sick. It was 24 hours before he realised I was AWOL. Then he started with the wooing again. The first three calls I ignored. Ditto the texts. When I finally picked up, I let him have it full bore. I called him a misogynist cunt, a caveman and a disgrace. He took it all before grovelling for nearly ten minutes on the phone. I disconnected. Then the flowers started arriving. Accompanied by heartfelt notes of apology. On the fucking hour.

I held out for another day, making him sweat. Then he turned up on my doorstep with yet more flowers and endless soft soap. Stupid me, huh? I gave in. He told me he'd been right out of order, called it 'just locker room talk', boasting to his jealous mate about how beautiful I am etc etc. Like I was shagging Donald fucking Trump or something.

Then he held out his own trump card (sorry about the unforgivable pun) He pulled out a reservation for this weekend in Scotland. Fuck knows what lies he had to tell Melanie to get a whole weekend away at short notice. But he'd been clever, he phoned my fucking sister and told her about our little 'disagreement' obviously playing the all expenses paid dirty weekend ace at the same time. So after he'd left, for once not pressing me to drop my knickers for a quickie, I got a call from my unlovely sister, begging me to give him another chance. Katie Fitch does not look gift horses in the mouth. She might duck under them and give a crafty blow job, but she never turns down an expensive treat. The only thing standing in her way was my reluctance.

So between them and my desperate need to put what happened with Naomi Campbell out of my mind, I agreed to this fucked up 'make up' weekend.

Of course, it followed a predictable pattern. We flew up from Bristol on a business jet, got chauffeured to the hotel/golf course by limo and ended up the the very best suite they could offer. The only bit of satisfaction I gained from the past 24 hours was the look on Katie's face when she realised mine and Richards suite was double the size of hers. Still, we had a nice lunch, then the 'boys' as Katie insists on calling them, went to play 9 holes on the tournament quality golf course, my twin and I enjoyed...if that's the right word..the health club. A sauna, swim and massage, followed by what seemed endless titivating by identical blonde blue eyed silicone clones in white cotton suits.

It was OK, I guess. I suppose it felt good to be pampered, but unlike Katie, I've had enough after about 20 minutes. I left her in there, squeezing out every possible perk from the high priced beauty specialists.

I retired to the suite and drank quite a lot of free champagne. Staring out of the huge windows and wishing I was back at JI. Not because I really wanted to be there, I just didn't want to be here.

There might have been a few tears too. Not enough to ruin the work the health club had done, but regrets I have a few, as some old American singer said. Regrets about being such a bitch to Naomi for one. She'd done nothing wrong whatsoever. Just held out the hand of friendship when I was feeling low.

So what did I do...try to fucking kiss her...that's what.

I had no idea where that came from, only that I really, really wanted to taste her lips. For a second I was back at Exeter Uni, snogging the face off my ex, wanting nothing more than to consume the girl in front of me. And Naomi Campbell would have let me. Let me kiss her, caress her and God knows what else, given the state I was in. If she'd dragged me into a vacant cubicle and fucked me senseless, I would have been the most willing victim in history...but she didn't, and we didn't. I thought straight afterwards that it was lucky someone walked in at that moment. Stopped me making a terrible mistake.

Stupid me.

The mistake wasn't being interrupted. It was being a fucking coward.

If Richard had done me one favour since, it was bringing me here. After another superb meal in the world class restaurant and several bottles of champagne, the four of us went into the ballroom and danced for a couple of hours. Fortified by a few more glasses of bubbly, I allowed myself to be led back up here. To bed.

Katie and Marcus had already 'retired' no doubt giving the poor suckers in the room next door half a night of noisy entertainment. My sister has never been less than vocal about her appreciation of being shagged. An adolescence of shared 'dates' can testify to that. I shudder to think what treats Marcus was being offered in return for almost bankrupting himself this weekend.

Which makes me the worlds biggest hypocrite, doesn't it? Because at least Katie enjoys putting out for her treats.

I let a guy fuck me several times last night because I can't be brave enough to stick to whatever tiny principles I still have.

So Richard got his rewards too. Three times. Because a whole night with his 'willing to do most things' fuck buddy wasn't to be wasted. He wanted his moneys worth. And I gave it to him.

So...this morning comes the guilt...and the self recrimination. While Richard sleeps the sleep of the exhausted, I just nurse an aching head and fanny, hoping I can slip out before he comes to. No way do I want to give him a repeat performance. The naked male body is just about bearable through champagne goggles. But hungover and remorseful? I would rather kill myself than let him have me sober.

If only I had someone else to talk to...to tell the truth to. My sister won't even entertain the idea that I might prefer girls. My mother is even more of a moral fundamentalist. I don't have any close friends and the one person, a virtual stranger, who I might have trusted to confide in, I managed to completely piss off by behaving like a 15 year old schoolgirl who'd just been snogged by her best friend.

Way to go Emily.

I managed to get out of bed without waking him and into a thick white towelling gown before grabbing my room key and silently padding out of the room. Guests can use the pool and sauna at any hour. This early, I would probably have both to myself. I wanted to clean myself in and out. No way was I having a shower in the suite. Too much chance that Richard would wake and decide to join me. I shuddered at the thought of having him inside me again so soon. I still ached from last night.

Luckily, I was right about being the only one up early enough to want to swim. I'd grabbed my one piece costume before I left the room, so slipped into the pool and did a few lengths. The water was really too warm, but it cleared my mind a little, so I got out after that and, stripping off the tight costume, wrapped myself in the dressing gown again before walking into the sauna room. The changing area was deserted, so I dropped my gown onto a handy hook and took one of the big blue towels from the stack on the teak cabinet next to the sauna door.

Slipping the towel loosely round my waist, I stepped inside. Obviously they kept it going 24/7, because the coals were sizzling and there was already a cloud of steam in there.

I sighed in satisfaction (a sensation I hadn't felt in the last 24 hours. Richard might be an urbane and modern man, but it was his own satisfaction that mattered, not the willing female giving it to him) and sat on the nearest bench. As the vapour swirled around me, I sighed again and dropped the towel onto the bench under me.

"I thought I was the only early bird here"

A disembodied voice came from opposite me. I squeaked and grabbed for the towel, which of course fell annoyingly to the floor instead.

I huffed in disbelief, both at my clumsiness and the fact that I wasn't alone. At least the voice was female, I consoled myself. All I needed, after a night suffering Richards attention was another horny male eyeing my unimpressive tits.

A slim, tanned arm appeared from the mist and held out another towel.

"No modesty required hun...you have a great body...and we're all girls here...but if it bothers you?" she said in a world weary voice.

I tried to place her accent...American?

"Canadian" she said throatily as I sat there stupidly pondering. "I guess that's what you were wondering?"

I swallowed hard. Fucking hell, a mind reader. Thats all I need right now.

Then I heard movement and the next thing I knew a curvy naked 30 something brunette was sitting next to me, holding out her hand as if we were in the board room.

Shaking hands with naked women is not my usual early morning routine, but I summoned up all my Emily Fitch hard shell and smiled politely at her.

God forgive me, I promise I didn't mean to, but I did the thing that every man in history does, presented with a naked female. I checked her out.

That sounds awful, even now. But she was fucking stunning. Taller than me, as I said, with a sort of Audrey Hepburn bob. Deep brown eyes. Tanned and smooth all over...and I mean all over. And her tits were to die f...

JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH! I screamed inwardly, where the fuck did that come from?

I swallowed again as I realised I hadn't answered her in my panic. Nervously I stretched out my hand and shook hers. I saw the twinkle in her eyes as she obviously filed away my perving.

Jesus Emily, I thought feverishly, you've gone from almost kissing a lesbian at work to blatantly checking out a naked stranger in a hotel sauna...what next?

I guess her mind reading skills were still switched on because she grinned at my obvious discomfort.

"Hey, no fair...I don't mind you checking out the merchandise hun...but I normally insist on first names at least?"

I goggled at that, but her husky chuckle told me she was teasing.

I smiled awkwardly and, as she held onto my hand longer than was strictly necessary, told her my name.

"Well hi... Emily Fitch" she answered "I'm Marci Jones, late of Toronto, Canada. My partner is upstairs, sleeping off the excellent champagne they serve here..she always was a lightweight when it comes to French booze"

I had time to register the 'she' in that statement before she went on, still holding my fucking hand.

"So who's the lucky lady who's in your room Emily Fitch?" she said playfully. I don't think she was outright coming on to me, just flirting lightly.

She thinks I'm a fucking lesbian, I thought frantically...help!

"Err...its not a girl...it's Richard...his names Richard" I started to gabble "He's my boss and we..." I stuttered. She dropped my hand then and stared at me as if seeing me for the first time.

"Oh?" she said quietly "Guess my gaydar is well off today...I thought..."

Even in the heat of the sauna, I could feel myself reddening.

"I'm not, I mean I have done but..." mumbled hopelessly. This conversation was going from bad to worse.

I wanted to explain, but this was a total stranger. A naked fucking stranger. I felt like Alice down the rabbit hole. Curiouser and curiouser.

But again she showed her ability to cut through my bullshit with just a few words.

"Look Emily, none of my business and you can cut me off at the knees and just go if you think I'm being too personal. But if you're here with your male boss, presumably not to do the annual accounts...why did your eyes feel like they were stroking my tits just then? I mean, my gaydar may not be as strong as it was when I was your age, but you certainly don't act like a straight gal. Am I right?"

I could have lied. But what would have been the point? She was a total stranger, we would never meet again in all probability. I wanted someone to talk to, didn't I?

So, with a trembling voice and her hand not now holding mine, but resting in a non sexual way on my knee, I vomited it all up. University, Sarah, the affair with Richard, even kissing Naomi for fucks sake. I was just moving on to my fucked up family when she stopped me.

"Ooookay" she breathed, smiling gently "That's a hell of a tale Emily Fitch. But I'm guessing one that's not over yet. What say we get out of here before we tun into prunes and catch a cold juice on that terrace out back? I've been here a week and no one has disturbed me yet out there. We can chill out and you can get it all out?"

So we did, stopping only for me (gently prompted by Marci) to phone reception. She suggested I get the concierge to contact my suite and tell Richard I had gone out for an early jog. That way he wouldn't be scouring the premises for me.

It was the first in a lot of good advice she gave me.

Once we were out of claustrophobic confines of the steamy sauna, I felt better. Probably more to do with the frantic thoughts that had plagued me since I woke up being purged, more than the lowering of temperature.

Anyway. After 15 minutes of me talking and her listening, she had the full ugly picture. She winced a couple of times as I described how Richard had me at his beck and call. I left out the gruesome CEO office blow jobs, but she was a sharp one, I don't think she needed a picture painting. Laying it all out like that. My insecurities, attraction to girls (OK one in particular) and my fucked up 'relationship' with my boss, it felt good and bad. Good because I got to tell someone the full unvarnished truth. Bad because as I described what had happened this weekend, she shook her head for the first time.

"Holy shit Emily...look at yourself. You're young, drop dead gorgeous and probably gay...what's fucking stopping you living the life you want, instead of being some wind up toy for an oversexed married guy who's cheating on his wife?...Probably not for the first time. Its a fucking job not a vocation. My advice?...get the hell out of Dodge".

I stared at her like she had suggested a day trip to Mars.

"What?" she said..." too bold for you? Christ Emily, if you're not careful, this will BE your life, not just a bit of it. You do realise he'll inevitably get tired of you, even if you can play straight girl long enough to keep him for a while? He's married, and nothing you do is gonna top that. You're just a pretty girl who gives him what he wants, when he wants it. And if you think for one moment the rest of your organisation is blissfully unaware of your dirty secret, you're kidding yourself. Sounds to me he's not exactly the discrete type. If he's boasting about banging you to his rugby mates, are you confident he hasn't let anything slip inside the building. Secrets don't stay secrets long honey, trust me"

When she finished that little monologue, it was if I had woken up from a long sleep. Little things, memories came back to me. The time he insisted on shagging me against the wall in the post room one night after hours.

Marci took a long swallow of the freshly squeezed orange juice and studied me for a moment.

"My advice? Now you've told someone how you feel, do something about it. Is this Richard guy playing golf today?"

I nodded. I knew he had 18 holes booked for 8.30...it was nearly 8 now.

"Good, then both he and your sisters guy will be out on the course in what...twenty minutes?"

I nodded again.

"Right, so if I were you Miss Fitch, I would wait that twenty minutes, then go up to your room, pack your bags and leave the fucker a short note. Say you've been taken unwell and decided to go home. You flew up here?"

Again I agreed.

"Well, then you need an earlier flight. Got your phone on you?"

This time I shook my head. My phone and all my belongings were back in the suite. But then that was probably better. Richard would be awake by now, showered and changed, probably cursing me for not being considerate enough to be naked and on my back when he woke.

"No problem" she drawled, pulling out a gold iphone from her dressing gown pocket. "You can call this a one time charity donation for a fellow sister. My good deed for the day"

With that she tapped on an icon and inside a couple of minutes, had booked me on the first available BA flight from Edinburgh to Bristol, leaving in three hours. If I was lucky, Richard would be still out on the course then. He wouldn't know I'd even left until after lunch. Just Katie to navigate round then.

Marci smiled at me as I gave her a hug of thanks. In one half hour, she had talked sense into me that years of self doubt had drowned out. I felt like I was free for the first time in years.

Home, a resignation letter and maybe an apology to a cool blonde with stunning eyes.

She kissed me gently on the lips before letting me go.

"In another life gorgeous" she breathed "In another life, I would have loved to show you how much fun it is to be gay and single. But there's a beautiful redhead upstairs who would miss me too much. I think I'll go and wake her up the best way possible" she smirked and squeezed my behind cheekily before striding away. I watched her confident gait, attracting looks from the waiters along the way. Not as showy as my sister, but just as effective.

I took a deep breath and sat down again to wait out the next 15 minutes. Operation Emily was under way...I hope.

OK, another bonus chapter. I spoil you!

Still have another 1000 words written for the next one, so Saturday looks like go for an update...if you're still reading!

Thanks for dropping by