OK, on with the show. many thanks again to my lovely reviewers. Nice to know we're keeping the flame alive between us. I have coursework and end of term papers to get in, but I always have time for Naomily. Pity they don't have time for me. I think I might just drop out of further education if Lily or Kat came calling! (not remotely possible, sadly)

Particular thanks to paperline, who is my self declared number one fan. And a very clever person as well (not just because she likes my stuff!) I am in awe of her qualifications and chosen field of work. Grovel over...

So...Emily has made the break, finally kicked that arse Richard into touch and left Jupiter Investments. Which leaves Naomi with a problem. To call, or not to call? Because as Emily accurately predicted, our favourite blonde is not the cheating type. But the planet sized gravitational pull of E Fitch has been known to change minds once or twice. We can drop in and find out, huh?

Naomi

The cool breeze of a late Bristol evening was sending just the faintest refreshing waft of air over our cooling bodies. It was dark, after 11 I think and I was attempting to get some sleep. I knew my bed partner wasn't asleep yet either. Her breathing was low and steady, but if I shifted in the bed, I got a grumpy murmur at the movement. Sleep wasn't coming...although to put it crudely, it was the only thing that hadn't tonight in chez Campbell.

I sighed and gently stroked the warm arm which was lying across my stomach. I should be asleep, I thought to myself...tonight had been quite...energetic after all. I'd forgotten quite how much Mini like to talk during sex. I don't know where she learned to be so filthy in her descriptive prose, but I don't remember her being quite so, umm vocal, at uni. It was rather stimulating to say the least.

So, she certainly made up for it tonight. We got in at 9 after watching Jason Bourne do his psycho CIA thing at the Multiplex, then sat on the couch sharing a bottle of raspberry vodka I had in the cupboard from the last time my mates from college came round. How it survived a whole 3 months without being emptied, I'm not sure, but its ¾ gone now... Inevitably, talking led to kissing and I was happy to let that happen. Despite the intense moment I shared with with Miss Fitch in the post room 10 days ago, I haven't actually called her yet. Which has been on my mind quite a bit.

I did text her, more out of politeness than anything else. I didn't want her to think I was ignoring her after all. It was just a brief message.

"Hi Its Naomi. Thanks for your number. I will call you Emily. Promise."

I debated adding a kiss, but after the one she planted on me at work, anything like that was dangerous ground. I swear I didn't intend to, but every kiss I shared with Mini since then has been compared to that smacker. Its made me very uncomfortable, realising that a brief chaste meeting of lips in a deserted office has had more effect on my libido that some of the filthier ones I've shared with my actual girlfriend?

Because thats what Mini is, isn't she? My girlfriend?

In the almost month we've been seeing each other, we've slept together maybe a dozen times, shared weekday lunches and weekend nights at the movies, woken up together several times at my place or hers, held hands in the street...that's all girlfriend stuff, yeah?

So why am I lying awake after a very pleasant hour of being thoroughly pleasured by the inventive and dirty minded Miss McGuiness?

I know the answer to that question, but I'm definitely avoiding the conclusion. Emily Fitch is a very dangerous person to dwell on. Why the hell am I not deliriously happy just being with a beautiful, clever and sexually inventive woman? Its what I thought I was waiting for after all...

I got a reply to my late night text to Emily the next morning. There is no truth in the rumour that I checked my phone every hour on the hour in between sending mine and getting her answer.

"Hey. Thanks for bothering. I'm going to have a weeks break in Greece with my dear sister. Last minute booking. Do some thinking. Thanks for not telling me to get lost Naomi. It means a lot. Emily x"

I sighed again and closed my eyes. Maybe if I counted sheep?

XXX

Emily

The fasten your seatbelts light came on above my head and I nudged my sleeping sister awake. I shouldn't really be surprised at her exhaustion. It must be hard work being Katie Fitch. About the only time she wasn't fully made up and immaculately dressed was when we were on the beach and even then I was kept busy slapping factor 50 sun oil on her, or supplying endless cool drinks to 'keep her hydrated'.

It was supposed to be a break for me to forget my troubles and ex lover, chill on a beach and get pissed a lot.

Well, all that happened of course and believe it or not. for the first three days Katie was as good as gold. Marcus had followed Richard into the history books. I don't think he had actually done anything wrong as such, but I know my sister. The prospect of a whole week meeting potential credit limits meant she needed to clear the decks first. Katie has this quaint thing about never cheating on her partners, which to be fair, she never does. There might be a very fine line between kicking her current lover out of the back door and opening the front one to another deluded victim, but she keeps that line assiduously anyway.

But as I said, for the first three days, while we both got tanned and pissed (not always in that order) she behaved like a proper twin and listened to my woes, held my hair when I sobbed and/or threw up in the sink and generally had my back. I knew it couldn't last of course. Day four dawned with us both a bit sick of the routine we had established. Up at 10, breakfast on the terrace, a bit of shopping in Chania, then lunch in a taverna, on the beach till 5, then back to the villa, shower and change into something light but stylish, then dinner and drinks in a local bar.

The twin thing of course caused a stir, both with the locals and the tourists. But we formed a circle with the wagons and for the most part, they got the message. Katie had a few dances with the braver boys, but I shook my head firmly when asked and avoided letting Katie, buoyed up with brandy or ouzo, use her patented 'look at the pretty twins dancing so sexily together...maybe they'll let us watch if they shag' to attract more moths to the Fitch family flame.

It's not as if I cared much if my sister wanted a bit of me time...sharing a twin bedroom with her for 17 years was bad enough, this week reminded me how...err, restrictive...that can be. Having your own apartment and bedroom meant I could, umm, indulge myself at will. Not so easy when your sister is snoring two feet away.

So when she slid back into the booth at a bar in town late in the evening and announced that she'd pulled, I was almost relieved. The guy looked reasonable enough. Tall, blonde and with an obviously very expensive Rolex on his wrist. Just the right type for my sister to work out her frustrations on. I smiled politely when she introduced him as Matt and gave her my blessing. All I asked was for them to walk me to the path which lead up the hill to our villa. After that I saw them disappear into the darkness towards the deserted beach. I bit off the advice about sand and fannies which bubbled up in my half drunk head. Not appropriate.

Once I got into the blissfully quiet single storey villa, I switched on a side light, closed the shutters, leaving the windows open so a breeze still cooled the room and stepped into the shower for a quick wash. In five minutes, I was out and clean. Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I rubbed my hair almost dry, then brushed it straight out. No time for fancy styling, this was supposed to be a holiday for all of me.

I plumped up two pillows, laid back on the bed and undid the towel so I was naked. If I knew my sister, and probably no one on earth does better, she would be at least and hour. She likes to display all of her, ahem talents on a new catch do they're totally bewitched. Time enough for me to have some happy time then fall into a relaxed sleep, ready for the morning.

Everything went to plan, at least at first. I hadn't been brave enough to pack my little battery powered pink torpedo in the hand luggage. The thought of some officious Customs guy at either end of the journey pulling it out of my suitcase and waving it around like a guilty trophy made me shiver in embarrassment. Katie probably had one of her own (probably a lot more lifelike) somewhere in her baggage, but just the thought of where it had been, however recently washed, was enough to make me gag. Nope, it would have to be madame palm and her five daughters (OK, maybe only two of them needed tonight) and a trip down Emily Fitch's naked memory lane. No way was I going to be reminiscing about blowing Richard or suffering one of his boring/painful extended doggy sessions...no, my tried and trusted routine was a trip round celebrity manor, imagining several famous and gorgeous women bending to my depraved will...then finishing up with a reliable climax (stop it) provided by my only real gay experience with Sarah from uni.

It started so well too...

Several naked and willing celebs were bending to my will as I slowly cupped and squeezed my breasts. If anyone bothered to find out (and only one person had up till now) a slow and sensuous exploration of my tits was a certain way of getting me aroused quickly. I had plenty of time, so I used my fingertips to excite and roll my nipples, eyes closed as I imagined a beautiful naked woman gazing down at me as she caressed my shower clean skin. I could feel my hips starting to move slowly as the wonderful sensation of hands on skin met the exciting imagery I was creating in my head.

My legs started to twitch as I began to crave more direct stimulation. Slowly...very very slowly, I reluctantly relinquished my breasts and began to slide my hands south. My legs parted wider as I got closer to the place I needed my fingers to be. But the mental pornography I was building in my mind began to wander off topic all on its own. No longer beautiful but unattainable rock stars and actresses. The person straddling me was all too familiar. Blonde hair cascaded over us as she looked straight into my eyes. My breathing got shorter and more urgent as her intense eyes bored into mine. Blue eyes, almost glowing with lust as her hands did what my own were doing. I groaned as her breath blew warm on my cheek.

"Naomi" I croaked, voice breaking with the power of the building excitement she was providing. "Naomi..." I said again, this time using my right hand to cup myself between the legs. I could feel the heat and moisture already and I hadn't even touched myself properly yet.

"Shhh baby" she said huskily. Her lips moved over my jaw, teeth gently nipping the skin as she moved onto my neck. Again I groaned as she found the spot just under my ear I loved to be teased. "Oh fuck Naomi...yesss" I hissed as I felt warm hands pulling mine away from my own body. Her skin settled comfortably on mine as she lowered herself so that we moulded together. Now her lips were again at my ear and I could hear her breathing, fast and shallow. Not just me that was getting there then...?

"Shall I tell you what I'm going to do to you Emily...would you like me to do that?" she asked as I writhed under her.

"Oh God yes" I said out loud as she stroked my stomach with clever fingers. I couldn't think of anything I wanted more on earth. None of my previous lovers male or female had been very vocal in bed. Just the normal calls to Jesus and frantic moaning. For a brief second I recalled how rarely Richard ever had me at this pitch. Occasionally, if he was feeling particularly generous, he might adopt just the right angle to hit the sweet spot inside me. But inevitably, just as I reached between us to stimulate my clit, hopeful that this time maybe I would get off too, he would bat my hand away. I think he saw it as a slight to his masculinity that I might need to touch myself to achieve orgasm. So I stopped trying to get pleasure in the end and did what I shouted at him as I left his office, I faked it.

But not now. Not here in my comfortable bed, with my practised fingers circling my clit and Naomi Campbell in my head. Overwhelming my senses, Emily Fitch was going to have the mother of all orgasms...

"I'm going to..." dream Naomi said slowly "...touch you everywhere Emily. Suck those pretty nipples, then nibble all the way down your sexy body...open your legs and lick my way up each thigh until you beg me to taste you...then I'm going to push your legs wider open and slowly...oh very slowly, I'm going to make you scream, little girl. When my tongue touches you for the first time I want you to cry out like it's the first time anyone has ever gone down on you. When I'm sucking on that sweet little clit while my straight fingers go in and out of you...first one, then two...maybe even three if you're begging me like a good girl...I want you to hold my head and scream at me to fuck you...fuck you like no one ever has before...do think you could do that angel?"

Could I do that. My head was so full of the incredible possibility that Naomi might actually be that dirty in bed that I was on the verge of coming instantly. Wherever that scenario had come from in my feverish head, it was working like nothing ever had before. Even when I was 15, and I believed masturbation was, like the best thing ever invented, I hadn't gone from teasing myself to full on orgasm that quickly. I felt faintly disappointed that it was going to be over so quickly, but another few circles of my clit and I exploded.

I'm grateful that Katie was at least half a mile away, hopefully with her blonde stud taking all her attention from what her twin sister was up to. I cried out, I thrashed on the bed and big waves of pure pleasure crashed over me like an Atlantic storm. Over and over I clenched and trembled as it continued. At last...with something like relief, it subsided.

I know it had been over a week since I indulged, but Jesus H Christ...that was some orgasm, I thought wearily as I finally relaxed my thighs and took my hand away.

Sleep came quickly after that. I didn't even hear Katie come in...

XXX

Naomi

I was fast asleep one moment, then wide awake. Fragments of dreams stayed in my mind for a few seconds as I sat up in bed. No Mini tonight, it was a work night, so the bed next to me was empty. I felt a bit ashamed at my relief. Shouldn't I be missing her a bit more than I was?

In any case, the small fragments of my dream came back to me in tiny episodes.

Me...me and Emily...a small white villa somewhere warm. A bed...naked?

Yes, definitely naked. Both of us.

Moaning...erotic words whispered into a cute little ear. Then soft skin, heat and wetness...my name being called out, begging me.

Suddenly there was heat elsewhere than in my over stimulated subconscious. I swallowed hard as I realised I was excited. Very excited.

This is fucking crazy, I thought, even as my right hand made its way between my legs. I don't need to masturbate? Mini had more than taken care of my libido last night...I was usually OK for at least 48 hours after we'd spent the night together...

But my body was sending signals to my head which were not to be ignored. I had to take care of myself.

Five minutes later, sweating, gasping and twisted in the sheets, why did I feel like I'd just cheated on my girlfriend?

Luckily sleep came easily after that...

OK guys, shorter one because the next one, due Saturday is a bit angsty, so I need to work up to it. It was enjoyable imagining Emily getting some satisfaction dreaming about how much fun Naomi will be in bed, but the real world will be knocking soon. Hope you're still interested enough to read on?

Thanks for stopping by.