"It's the same old story," complained Alice Swinburne as she rested her long legs on the footstool while gratefully accepting a stiff glass of whisky. Her long term lover, the blond haired George Channing had cooked them a delicious evening meal at the end of a hard day's work and they'd washed up. Now she pricked up her ears as she joined her lover on the sofa with her own glass of spirits.
"So despite all your hard work and dedication, you've been passed over for the senior Social Worker job you were angling for and some nobody gets the prize?" she observed drily. George's profession as a leading barrister and her natural inclinations meant that she wasn't generally known for her bedside manner, being once dubbed "The Ice Maiden" by her one time estranged daughter Charlie in her teenage years. However, her cynical manner concealed an insightful and sympathetic nature and when she softened her manner, it was for real and Alice had long since got to love all the facets of her partner.
"That's about it George," Alice replied gratefully taking her lover's hand in hers as this sharp observation crystallised her own free floating emotional discontent with her lot. "I know I get good results with the families I deal with. I'm averse to the tickbox approach around these days which is all bound up with promoting yourself."
"I'm hardly the soul of modesty in court but I rest my case on my reputation," George observed lightheartedly before becoming more serious. "Are you sure there isn't some homophobia at work? We and our friends feel that living like this is perfectly natural but not everyone sees it this way."
Alice's eyes opened wide at this unexpectedly sharp question. She started to depict her office in her mind. There she was seated at her desk typing up reports, trying to be helpful and ladylike amongst the discussions around her colleagues. She admitted she struggled with new instructions written in soulless gobbledook while the younger man who stole the job had that facility to mouth the latest buzzwords. It prompted her to consider uncomfortable possible conclusions.
"I might be struggling to keep up with all these changes. I'm not a civil servant. Perhaps I'm getting middle aged and tired," Alice answered with a worried tone in her voice. She'd never thought that self-doubt was particularly productive, especially when the press had a periodic field day over cases when children in families under their supervision had died and she might easily have made a similar wrong call.
"Are you sure? I come up against pipsqueak judges like Tim Jackson, son of the original hanging judge who sent Nikki down for life. He's so new I can still see the indentation of his school cap yet he's got promotion so fast it makes you blink. I'm sure you come over as feminine and not dykishly threatening at work but it's no professional secret that you have a ladylove in your private life. I've come to believe that every institution is infected from on high by narrow minded control freaks who creep their way up the ladder and they only admit their prejudices behind closed doors and are politically correct in public. John Deed's favourite word for them is apparatchik and he's right though I'd never admit it to his face. I've had backstage experience of this world from consorting with Haughton and his fearful cronies. Perhaps even in social services whose reputation is liberal not to say permissive, lesbians aren't the flavour of the month. I'm afraid you're up against a glass ceiling darling, believe me."
George's concentrated logic took the wind out of Alice's sails, even as she concluded her words by stroking the dark-haired woman's cheek as comfort. She respected George's intelligence too much to brush it aside. She drained the last of the measure of whisky and anger flared up in her.
"I ought to have every chance of promotion. I shouldn't be shunted aside because of some closet homophobe. I've worked hard enough for it," she declaimed out into empty space.
"You think that promotion makes you free? I don't like to think of Haughton more than I possibly help for fear that it makes me ill but he's an instructive lesson here in how not to live your life. There he was, Mister Big, ruler of all he surveys in the Home Office before whom his subordinates quaked in their shoes for fear of displeasing him. Yet he had to ingratiate himself before the Prime Minister like all those up and coming politicians do to useful people like Sir Tim Listfield. He made a fortune of marketing dangerous mobile phones. He's one of a whole network of the nouveau riche and powerful. The more he strove, the more he shackled himself and expended all his energies to getting on that he never considered the better things in life, like walking in the park arm in arm with your loved one."
The intent expression on Alice's face gave way to a soft smile as George had invited her out on such a romantic experience one spring morning. She remembered the soft glow of the sunshine had melted together with the feel of George's arm round her waist or in holding hands as they walked. Yes, such moments were delicious and she knew that pursuing a career wasn't everything.
"But how have you, Jo Mills and John Deed prospered if that's the way the world works? The three of you have had your cake and eaten it," questioned Alice without thinking. A sly grin curved round George's lips as she turned the expression around in her mind.
"You know what I can be like that way but does it make us hypocrites professionally speaking? I freely admit shamelessly using Daddy's surname to advance myself as John's was associated with danger. Nevertheless, I worked hard enough even if I was amoral to establish myself as a barrister in my own right. The establishment found it useful to deploy John's brilliance in getting to the bottom of most abstruse cases but I absolutely forbid you to tell him that. He's also got the facility to balance on the edge of disaster without falling off the edge with natural survival skills. A course in Nikki and Helen personal ethics has helped him. Jo Mills has always adopted John's politics from when he was her pupilmaster but I can't accuse her of benefitting by any patronage even if I used to tell her otherwise to wind her up. She might have benefitted by a brief fashion in seeking the advancement of women barristers but otherwise, her prominence is an unaccountable accident. The point is that the three of us have so far but no further and enjoy its limited benefits without seeking to climb further up the greasy ladder. No doubt, Tim Jackson and his kind will be Appeal Court judges in no time but none of us will be losing sleep over it," George said thoughtfully, having assisted her train of thought with a lighted cigarette.
"So what's the purpose in life? Either way, we all get screwed," Alice asked disconsolately after much contemplation of the situation.
"One answer is never become a manager unless you do it your way like Helen and Claire who understand people and feelings. They have some hold on life like the rest of us have. All the rest of our friends are really just like us. The trick is to carve out your own space for manoeuvre and quietly disobey any order that no decent human being could stomach. Managers walk around, poo- faced, getting agitated about nothing that's real- and probably have lamentable love lives as well."
"For all your aristocratic background, you're something of an anarchist," an amused Alice said in reply to her partner's idiosyncracies.
"Aren't I just? I learned it at boarding school without knowing it," grinned George. She'd pulled the ideas off the top of her head but knew that they'd been swirling around her head for years and she'd quietly mulled over them. "Since the television is so abysmal tonight, why don't we create our own entertainment?"
George timed the way she slid her hand up the inside of Alice's thigh just right as she'd sensitively dispelled her previous dark mood. She was in the mood for celebration and she took George's face between her long slender hands and laid the first of many soft kisses on her lips.
Jane had finally finished pleasuring her lover whose legs were wound round her blond haired lover. Her fertile imagination could picture her being deep inside her lover thanks to the products of the lesbian sex shop they frequented. Jo's smart skirt, suit jacket and formal shirt were scattered along with the blond haired woman's jeans and tops and various bras and knickers. She felt so good within herself as her hips gently flexed ever so slightly backwards and forwards while they exchanged many long kisses. It vaguely crossed both their minds that they'd never got round to ordering the takeaway meal or pouring drinks for themselves but a more vital hunger had needed assuaging first.
"I've just had an interesting thought," Jo said suddenly after she had floated on a high tide of post orgasm dreaminess when a nagging thought suddenly begged to be voiced.
"I'm cool with that so long as we don't have to move," Jane answered imperturbably.
"I only want you to pass me my mobile which is on the bedside table. I won't be long," Jo said reassuringly. The fair haired woman moved her body slightly and her hand just about reached the mobile.
"Oh hi George," Jo said a little breathlessly and cryptically. "Are you OK to talk?"
"Allowing for me lying semi-naked on the sofa with Alice licking my left nipple, yes I'm OK to talk so long as you make it quick," George drawled back, making her pleasure obvious. On the other end of the phone, Jo deduced that her friends' pleasures had been completed and giggled to herself. She could easily have said that she was naked, her legs wrapped round Jane whose dildo was up inside her. Jane's sharp eyes spotted this train of thought and resolved to pursue the matter at the first opportunity.
"That's all right then," Jo said with insouciance and masterly understatement. "Would you and Alice be willing to come with Jane and myself to Chix this Saturday night? We're in the mood to party."
"That includes me George," Jane called out while twisting he body slightly so as to get nearer to the mobile Jo held in her hand. The other woman grinned as she was slightly differently positioned than when she was at work, sitting behind her desk and fully clothed.
"Alice and I are definitely in the mood," George answered rapidly as Alice called out her assent. "If you don't mind, I'm required elsewhere. Lovers are so demanding, you know."
Jo clicked off the phone and reached sideways and upwards to replace the phone where it had been. Jane gave a little thrust with her hips to emphasise the point she was making.
"Now come on Jo. I know that George was in the middle of sexual gymnastics with Alice and told you so or else you'd have talked for longer. You were grinning at the fact that I'm up inside you but you didn't enlighten your best friend. Am I right or wrong?"
Jo was bashfully flummoxed yet pleased at the same time by such direct and affectionate teasing and tried to make light of it but the sharp-witted woman was having none of it.
"Why don't you tell all to your old friend, sweetheart? After all, she's got your best interests at heart. It's nothing to be ashamed of," teased Jane in a very seductive tone of voice.
"I, well, you mean, you don't talk about things like that. It's not like everybody's doing it," a flustered Jo replied.
"Karen and Beth do. Beth persuaded Karen pretty soon after they became an item and now they're having a whale of a time every which way depending on how they feel," Jane declared with perfect aplomb.
Jo's jaw dropped open at the revelation. She had never thought to guess such a thing. It took her a while to gather her scattered wits but a suspicion grew as to which way the wind was blowing. Up till then, Jane had nobly refrained from raising such a matter.
"Oh no,no,no,no. It's not my style even if it's yours," she protested.
"Oh come now. You must have been secretly fascinated to be the woman on top. It feels so good I assure you," Jane started to urge persuasively, looking more attractive than ever.
On Saturday morning, an excited Jane led a highly self-conscious Jo Mills through the brightly decorated shop front which was screened off from the road. Once over the threshold, the vice like feeling within Jo relaxed its grip and she was reassured by the pretty girls who chattered away while they pored over and examined the goods on sale. It felt like any fashion shop. She clasped her lover's hand as they strolled, taking in the range from conventional to utterly bizarre.
"Can I help you both or do you want to browse a bit?" called out a sweet young assistant with perfect makeup and blonde permed hair who looked very frail. She knew that the younger woman was perfectly at home but the older woman was clearly new to this world. There was a danger that too much thinking might cause her to back out when she really didn't want to.
"We've come for my girlfriend's sake to make things between us more two way," gently interposed Jane who felt her role was to take the lead as she squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It looks as if we've come to the right place," she added lightly.
"You probably guess that the thickness depends on how many fingers you're accustomed to use," the assistant explained softly, making sure she didn't sound too vague or too coarse. Fortunately, this helped Jo to narrow down her range of choice and her desired object sharpened focus while the rest faded in the background. She blessed the fact that she was generally a decisive shopper. Jo picked up the strapon with fingers which felt as if she were handling a precious object and she bashfully handed it to the assistant. She pulled out her cheque-card with more assurance, being the one activity she felt confident about.
"You've chosen well. I'm smaller than you so I use a narrower version of this on my girlfriend. It's transformed our love life, believe me. One tip is trust to your girlfriend first time though looking at you both, I'm sure you'll both be fine."
Jo stared wide-eyed at this girl. She realised that the image of a crop-haired woman in dungarees had haunted her imagination. If this delicate thing was so confident with her lover, what's holding her back.
"You've chosen well, Jo. I can very well easily imagine you inside me with that. It'll make a lovely change," Jane said softly and tenderly, resting her hand on Jo's which was slightly trembling. They'd done it and committed themselves. They exchanged melting glances at each other and felt that nothing around them could do any harm.
"Ooh, you look so cute together," the assistant exclaimed with a slight squeal in her voice. "Excuse me for saying," she added. Jo smilingly waved this charming girl's self-consciousness aside, intrigued by the girl's mix of teenage and mature.
"You're both going anything special tonight?" she added, trying to sound more mature.
"You mean will we christen this? Well, we might after we come back from Chix. It's a club we've been going to for years," explained Jo after glances of shared agreement to their plan with Jane.
"Isn't it for older women?" the girl asked dubiously without thinking before feeling slightly foolish as she realised she felt at home with these two older women. "All right, I'll drag Keeley along with me."
Out of the corner of her eye, Jo saw another young woman approach the counter with perfect assurance of her own purchase. The assistant noticed it too - she had business to attend to.
"I'm sorry. I end up talking too much. Be seeing you around," she hastily said.
"See you," murmured the other two women. As Jo made her way to the door, she felt as if she was floating on air with the feeling that this corner turned in her life was one of her most delightful.