I visit your office often on business, meeting with your boss. Usually
the closest you get to me is to hand me coffee. I intimidate you a
little: a young woman in such a position, your boss is twenty years
older than me but your company needs the business from mine, so he's
always subservient to me.

Then one day I turn up at your office looking hastled. Today I'm not
the cool business woman I usually am, I am flushed and distracted.
Just before I go in to see your boss I turn to you and ask if you can
do a favour for me. You are always willing to help. I take out some
money - several notes - and then write something on a piece of paper.
I folder the paper over and hand it to you. My eyes appear puffy and
red, there's a tear in them. I ask you to order 24 red roses and get
them delivered to the address on the paper with the message I wrote. I
go into the manager's office and you pick up the phone to call the
local florist.

Then you open the paper, there's two hundred pounds, the florist asks
for the address, ands you read it out: the recipent is a woman, Susan.
Then the florist asks for the message. You read it out: I'm sorry for
everything, don't leave me. Your voice trails off as you read it. The
florist reads it back to you and weakly you agree that the words are
correct.

A woman? An apology? A pleading for her not to leave? It is clear:
this can only mean that Ms Stuart prefers women, and the thought
brings up a strange feeling of excitement in you. Why is that? You're
not gay, you've only ever been with men, only ever fancied men. What
is it about this woman?

Later, when I come out of the office I have regained my composure. I
ask you if you have ordered the flowers and you tell me that you have.
Was it inadvertently, or did you really do it on purpose? - you catch
my eye. You hold my stare for just too long. I notice it. And now I
have noticed you.

I go home. The flowers hadn't had the desired effect. They are strewn
around the flat, some of them are torn to bits, petals trod into the
rug. In the bedroom draws on the floor - now they only contained my
clothes. In the bathroom all of my makeup is in the bath. My shampoo
and bath oils on the floor. The bitch! my toothbrush is in the toilet,
along with my eye pencils. At least she had left them there so I knew
I should throw them away.

The kitchen was a mess too. She had emptied every jar, every bottle
and every bag of ingredients onto the kitchen table: oil, juice, rice,
sugar, pasta, cream, milk; and then she had sprinkled all of the dried
herbs on top. That touch showed that this was not mere rage, it was
calculated vindictiveness.

I sat on the floor and sobbed.

***

After work you walk to the florist to settle the bill. The two hundred
pounds was way too much. That left you in a dilemma, so you make a
split decision and return to the office, and search your Rolodex for
my home address. It's the same as the address I had written on the
paper. You wanted the flowers and the apology sent to your home. What
did that mean? No matter. The address was on your way home, it was not
much of a detour, you just have to get off at an earlier stop on the
train; you're just being helpful, aren't you? This is what your job is
all about. All the way you try to convince yourself of this, you keep
telling yourself that it's part of your job. But you know that really
you want an excuse to see where I live, to see me again.

You find the block, the right floor and then the door of my flat. You
pause before you knock. Is this the right thing to do? What if Susan
is there too, with Ms Stuart? You could just turn away now. You'll see
her sometime in the next few days and then you can give her the money.
Yes, that would be the better thing to do. But you had come this far.
Then you make up your mind, you raise your hand to knock on the door,
but find that it is slightly ajar.

You push the door open and see me kneeling on the floor with crumpled
roses spread around me. You approach, my face is blank, my hair a
mess. By the smeared makeup it is clear that I've been crying, but now
my face is dry.

As you approach I look up at you. You open your purse and hold out the
envelope with the money. "you gave me too much money". I look at you.
There's mixed emotions on your face. Pity, bemusement, nervousness,
perhaps a little horror at the sight of the place. But there's
something else. A tenderness. Gazing past you, at the floor, I
replied, "they were lovely flowers, but they weren't appreciated"

You put the envelope on the coffee table and then offer your hand to
help me up. I take it. The emotion had drained out of me, but I am
shivering. As you pull me up something happened. Maybe it was a
motherly instinct, maybe it was human pity, or maybe you just wanted
contact, but you pull me toward you and hugged me. I lay my head on
your shoulder. I can feel the movement of your chest, the short quick
breaths you are taking. You can smell my hair: a faint perfume of the
shampoo I had used that morning, and the delicate smell of my scalp.
Instinctively, as if I was a child, you kiss my head. I feel your lips
touch my scalp and something inside me starts to melt.

Not knowing what you were doing you turn my head and kiss my forehead.
It is a tender action, like the kiss your mother gives to make your
worries go away. I raise my head, so that we are now looking into each
other's eyes, what I see there is more than a mother's tender concern,
and you too feel more than that.

I move closer, both of us close our eyes, and our lips touch. You feel
my cold lips; I feel your warm ones. It could only have been a second,
but it felt much longer. Our lips parted and we look again at each
other. You are smiling, you've not experienced this before, such
erotic tenderness. Now you move towards me, your lips slightly apart
and when our lips touch I kiss your top lip, then your bottom lip. I
feel your breath from your nostrils: short blasts of warm air.

Your lips are so sensitive. It's as if your body just consists of your
lips, the only sensation you get is from your lips. You can feel my
lips touch you and my breath on your cheeks. Your heart is pounding.

Then our lips lock, you can taste my mouth, and I can taste yours. My
tongue is enquiring, gentle and sensitive. Yours is passionate,
thrusting, demanding. I am restrained, wanting to savour it; but this
is a new experience to you and you want more, almost demand it from
me.

We are in an embrace. I am holding you tight, pulling your body close
to mine. I can feel your heart beating in your chest and my thoughts
turn away from the devastation in my home. Instead, they focus on you.
The skin of your face and neck is so smooth, so soft, I long to find
out if it is the same all over your body. I long to stroke you
tenderly, to feel your warm smooth skin.

Your thoughts are rushing, nothing makes sense. Too many thoughts are
going through your head. Is this right? Should you be doing this? Is
this you? Is this what you want? Oh yes, it is what you want!

What do you do now? You've not done this before, so you don't know
what to do. Then, desparate for inspiration you sink into the pure
pleasure that is coursing thrugh your body and you relax into my arms.

***

I take your hand and pull you to the sofa. You sit, not knowing what 
will happen. What am I doing? I'm starting my life again, I didn't 
want to start it again so quickly, but she's shown me what she 
thinks and she'll not return. I have to start again. This girl 
wants me, and I have a yearning that needs satisfaction.

I unbutton my blouse and stand in front of you, then I turn round 
"unzip me". You losten the hook and then unzip my skirt. The gentle 
brushes of your hand on my buttocks as you unzip me feels so good. 
My skirt falls down, I step out and turn back to you. You're looking 
wide-eyed at me, you cannot decide whether to look at my panties or 
my bra, or my face. Eventually you look at my face and I smile.

I sit down next to you and start to unbutton your blouse. You do 
nothing, so I pull the blouse off you and take mine off too and kiss 
you. It was as if the kiss broke the spell, now you are passionate 
again, I can hear the moans rumbling in your throat, and your 
tongue is frantically exploring my mouth. I fumble with your skirt 
so you break off the kiss and take it off yourself. Then I take 
off my bra and put your hand on my breast, you pause, then you 
stroke it, rubbing your hand across my nipple. Shyly you look into 
my eyes, as if to ask for permission, and my expectant smile is 
enough. You bend down and kiss my nipple, tracing round it with 
your tongue, then you suck and gently nibble it.

It is bliss. But I am yearning to taste you. So I pull up your face 
to mine and kiss you. Then I take off your bra and gently kiss each 
nipple. Again, you are quiet and obedient in anticipation. I kneel 
on the floor in front of you and open your legs. I  kiss the inside 
of your thigh moving closer to your crotch. You open your legs more 
as you feel the hot breath from my nose through the crotch of your 
panties. Then I lick the edge of your panties and push my tongue 
under the crotch gently touching your lips.

You gasp in anticipation as I run my tongue along the edge of your
panties, partly touching your thigh and lips. Then I pull the crotch
aside and gently kiss your lips and your clit.

You're now stroking your breasts, squeezing them and rubbing your 
nipples. The pleasure is coursing through your body making every 
square inch an erogenous zone. But some parts are more erogenous 
than others. I pull off your panties and open your legs as wide 
as they'll open. Your pussy is glistening. With the tip of my tongue 
I lick around your clit, flicking it gently. Then I move down your 
lips, licking the outside of one and then the other. Then I take 
both inner lips in my mouth and suck them in, part them with my 
tongue and sink it deep inside your pussy.

Your pussy is really wet now. I cover my fingers with your juices and
put them in your mouth. You suck my fingers and then lick the juices
from between them, so I cover my fingers again and give you more
juices to lick. Then I push you back so that you are lying on the 
sofa. I pull off my panties and straddle you. I sit on your face so 
that I can feel the breath from your mouth on my lips and the breath 
from your nose on my clit. I feel your tongue enter me, exploring 
first, and then getting more excited, darting in and out. I feel 
hot in my pussy, and I start rubbing my clit, you keep licking my
pussy and then periodically lick my fingers. So I respond by putting
my fingers in my pussy where I can feel your warm, wet tongue licking
my lips. My fingers are now wet and I lick them clean.

You pause and moan, you want your pussy licked too, but this is too
good and I tighten my thighs either side of your head, you respond by
licking faster and I rub faster too. Eventually, I start to shudder,
the feeling grows from deep within my pussy and out along my legs. The
orgasm is intense.

I get off your face. It is glistening, with sweat and my juices. I 
kiss you lightly and the smell of my juices turn me on so I gently 
lick your cheeks, your chin and your lips. Then I get off
you, open your legs once more to see what I can do down there.