Caught by a Kitten (Part 4)


I awoke next morning, refreshed after a heavenly night’s sleep, naked, in a bed seemingly impregnated with the fluids and scents of Sue-Ann and of our previous day’s loving. For awhile, I lay there luxuriating in sensual memories, but I couldn’t do so for long. Although it was Sunday, there was work that, before meeting Sue-Ann, I had promised to do over the weekend. For a start, I had several proposals to write for presentations to potential clients.  Now I also had to plan a programme of activities for Sue-Ann – both to make sensible use of her, and to help her learn enough about our business to be useful up in Nelson. Even though the idea of taking her to the conference centre opening had been born as a stratagem for possessing her, I owed it to my business partner Sarah to make it work at a business level, and I was determined to do just that. I showered, dressed, breakfasted, changed the linen on the bed and, after one last indulgent inhalation of the scents of yesterday, put the used bedding in the washing machine. I then betook myself to my den and fired up my main work computer – a twenty-seven-inch-screen iMac that was my delight and joy. An email message from the conference centre office confirmed receipt of my advice that my assistant Miss Sue-Ann Carmody would be accompanying me, and assured me that a place had been reserved for her at the gala reception that would be held on the Saturday evening, at which they looked forward to welcoming her. I was tempted to let that email side-track me onto Sue-Ann’s programme of activities, but another email, this time from one of the potential clients, quickly brought my attention back to priorities. I spent the morning working on the client presentations, and emailed the drafts through to Sarah. Then, I took a lunch break and started to think about my plan for Sue-Ann. Sarah’s idea of Sue-Ann coming into the office was a good one in several ways. For one thing, we actually were a bit short-handed and there were some jobs waiting to be done when someone could get around to it – including assembling several piles of promotional material and packing it all up for us to take to Nelson. For another, of course, the experience ought to make her more credible in her ostensible role as my assistant, so that she would be less likely to be seen as just my bit of skirt on the side – something my business reputation couldn’t afford to have happen. Part of the idea of the conference centre opening we were going to was to offer an opportunity for events-management companies like ours to showcase themselves to potential clients – potential users of the facility – who would also be attending with a view to assessing how well it would suit any conference, exhibition, seminar or other event they might want to put on. Our aim would be twofold: firstly to show off our track record – which, though I say it myself, is damned impressive – and secondly, to discuss with anyone who might think of employing our services what we could do specifically for them and, in particular, how we would be able to make this new venue work for them. The second of these goals would be more challenging and, in planning the division of labour between myself and Sue-Ann, I had assigned this role principally to myself. How useful she could be depended a lot on how quickly and accurately she would be able to absorb and use a considerable amount of information, which I itemized in a list. I told myself she ought to be able to – after all, she was nearing completion of what I knew to be a demanding business degree course; but at the same time, if there was one thing I had learned from interviewing freshly graduated job applicants and from seeing them at work, it was that you could never assume that their degree meant they’d be any immediate use. By mid-afternoon Sarah had emailed my presentation drafts back to me with some comments and suggested changes, and I had emailed her my draft programme for Sue-Ann, which had ended up little different from the induction plan I would have prepared for any ordinary new employee. We discussed it briefly over the phone, at the end of which Sarah merely said “Well, that elvankent escort looks okay – I’m looking forward to meeting her.” I emailed a copy of the plan to Sue-Ann, then printed off a hard copy to take round to discuss with her, and phoned the Catesbys. Myra answered. “Yes, of course, come over,” she said. “Sue-Ann will be here until a bit before six, then she’s going out to meet up with friends – they’re going to a restaurant and then going clubbing.” A stab of jealousy took me by surprise, and I had to struggle to go on speaking normally. “Ah, that leaves plenty of time. I’ve just prepared a plan for the week she’ll be spending at our offices, and I’d like to go over it with her before tomorrow. Shouldn’t take long.” “Well, dear, come as soon as you like. Keith’s off playing bowls, but Sue-Ann and I will be here. Oh, and if you don’t mind leftovers, it’d be lovely if you could stay to eat with us again.” “My dear, if it’s leftovers from yesterday you’re talking about, that’s an irresistible invitation.” * * *  I was pleased at Sue-Ann’s response to the programme I had drawn up for her. The questions she asked showed a lively and intelligent grasp of what I was proposing. We arranged that in the morning I would pick her up, but that thereafter she would go to the office under her own steam. After dinner Keith disappeared into his “man cave”, leaving Myra and me listening to some of our favourite music (some Fauré, as I recall) and companionably nursing generous measures of Frangelico – one of my favourite after-dinner tipples. “Laura, dear…” I forget what we had been talking about, but we had just paused to sip our drinks when she spoke, quietly but with a note in her voice that immediately raised the hairs on my neck. “Laura, I know my niece. And I know you. I’ve known you since before she was born…” I nodded. “…and you can’t fool me – I know all the signs. You’re head over heels in love with that girl, aren’t you?” Indeed I couldn’t fool her. I nodded again. She nodded back, smiling gently at me. “Did you think I would disapprove? No. I’ve known for years about Sue-Ann’s preference for women. And I can’t think of a nicer woman for her than you. I don’t need to know what’s gone on between you so far,” she went on, “but I can tell that she’s very strongly attracted to you. She had a girl-crush on you years ago, and it looks as if she never really lost it.” “She told me about that,” I said. “I still remember how she described it to me back then, You were like a beautiful butterfly, and she felt like a humble stick-insect.” “Well, she certainly doesn’t look like that now, does she?” Myra chuckled softly. “No. I’m not surprised at you falling for her. Even Keith notices how beautiful she’s become.” We both laughed. Keith’s general blokey lack of perceptiveness had been a standing joke between us for years. “But that’s not the point, Laura. The thing is, I’m afraid for you – afraid that you could get badly hurt.” “Me rather than her?” “Mmm…” She nodded. “She’s young, strong, confident, and I know that for her age she’s very sexually experienced. She doesn’t know the half of what I know about her; she thinks I’m fuddy-duddy old Auntie Myra who has to be shielded from any knowledge of what she gets up to. Above all, Laura, she’s very resilient. She’s not going to be here for long; then she’ll be going back to uni to finish her studies and get on with her life. She’ll move on to new things – and new relationships. And where will that leave you?” She was so right. The thirty-and-more years that separated Sue-Ann and me would one day, perhaps soon, stretch to breaking point any ties of attraction she felt towards me. I sighed: “I don’t know. It scares me – more than a bit. But I just have to trust that that’s something she and I will work out between us. The most hurtful thing is unkindness, and I don’t think she’ll treat me unkindly. She’s a very caring young woman, I think.” “I agree, she is. But even so… sometimes kindness itself can hurt.” She reached out a hand to me. “Just remember, I’ll be here for you.” “Bless you, Myra. Are you going to tell her emek escort bayan you know?” “Oh no. I’ll just go on being boring know-nothing old Auntie Myra who never notices anything and hasn’t the faintest idea about the birds and the bees…” “Yeah, right…” We shared a chuckle. * * *  “That girl’s good, you know.” It was the end of Wednesday, and our regular staff and Sue-Ann had all departed, leaving Sarah and me alone in the office. It was the first significant comment Sarah had made on Sue-Ann’s performance. “She’s made herself useful, and everyone enjoys working with her. She seems to have great people skills. She’s an incredibly fast learner as well – and, best of all, she can think. I’m sure now that she’ll be able to help you do a good job for us.” I was pleased to hear her confirm my own thoughts, which I had been afraid might be biased. But I was only half-listening. The week so far had passed without Sue-Ann and me making love or even having more than a few snatched kisses. I had, of course, emphasized to her that there was to be not the least sign of affection, let alone intimacy, in the office, but I hadn’t anticipated how hard sticking to this injunction would be. The strain of being in her presence in conditions of enforced chastity was fraying my nerves. We had made an arrangement to meet at my house for an after-work tryst, but that plan had been dashed by a text from Myra to say she and Keith wanted to take her out to dinner with friends whose son and daughter were back home visiting and wanted to catch up. There was, of course, no way in which either of us could object, and it was painful to be reminded that Sue-Ann had a whole other life, and that that life could snatch her away from me without warning. Only one more day, and then she would be spending Thursday night with me – a whole night of bliss before an early start on our journey north, with more nights together to follow. But, as well as mounting sexual frustration, I felt desperately thwarted. Like an addict deprived of her fix – that thought alarmed me, deepening the sense of insecurity that Myra’s words had awoken in me. Only one more day… But tonight, Sue-Ann or no Sue-Ann, I needed to get laid. Urgently. I needed to find in another body not only the sexual release that nothing I could do for myself would bring me but also reassurance that I was not totally bound to her. As soon as I got home I was surfing the internet, trawling through the sites I often used for casual hookups, but I found no-one who appealed to me. Then I suddenly knew where I wanted to go. When Chloe Marquand and her South African expat partner Viv DuPlessis started the women-only club “C&V” in a side-street of up-market suburban Merivale, few expected it to become the success it now is. Most of its clientele are lesbian, bi, or at the very least bi-curious, but quite a number of straight women too can be found there on a typical night, just enjoying the ambiance, the contents of a well-stocked bar, and the excellent music for which the club’s name is a byword. It’s a place where a woman of any age can go for a safe and civilized evening, to hook up or not as she pleases, and if hooking up is what she want to do she is unlikely to come away disappointed. It’s where Sarah, who once unblushingly described herself as a “sleeping partner” in the enterprise, introduced me to my first lesbian lover Zoe – but that’s another story. After a hasty supper I indulged in a bubble bath to dissipate the tension that had been building inside me, then I made up, scented and dressed myself ready for what I hoped would be a successful pussy-hunt, with an alluringly packaged exterior but stripped for action underneath: a clinging mid-thigh-length dress in soft merino wool with a plunging neckline, no bra and – after a debate with myself as to whether to go commando – just a thong for underwear. The Sapphix, the club’s resident band, were playing that night. They are an unabashedly lesbian group, but their musicianship, their style and their extensive and varied repertoire have gained them a much wider audience of fans, and their contract Escort eryaman allows them to do gigs elsewhere in between their club appearances, both as a group and individually. The vacant spots arising from their away gigs are keenly sought after, enabling Chloe and Viv to host the pick of the South Island music scene. When I walked into the main lounge, a few deeply entwined couples were on the dance floor and The Sapphix were giving their characteristic variation treatment to the Beatles’ “Yesterday” – a treatment consisting of a more-or-less straight delivery of the song, sung by vocalist/saxophonist Rowena (Ro) Kennard, followed by usually two or three instrumental variations, and rounded off with a vocal reprise of the song. Rowena was delivering the melody more or less straight on her alto sax, while pianist Liz Lelievre was weaving an intricate countermelody with her right hand and adding harmonies and textures that the Fab Four could never have imagined. Bassist Connie Macmahon was away on a melodic journey of her own that somehow, seemingly by some form of musical telepathy, harmonized with Liz’s piano, and percussionist Lucy Sharples was extemporizing a complex pattern around a strict-tempo beat. Among the couples was a sight that filled me with instant desire. Her back was to me. She wore calf-hugging knee-high boots of lustrous black leather with killer heels. Shapely thighs rose to perfect globes tightly encased in black leather pants that extended down to just above the tops of her hold-up stockings. An abundance of blonde hair hung down to her shoulders. The sinuous way she moved in her partner’s arms was sheer erotic poetry.. Then the couple did a slow hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. And there, her eyes widening in surprise, beaming at me over her partner’s shoulder, was Cindy Mayhew, the woman who had served Sue-Ann and me when we were buying clothes for her at “Pour Elle”. Almost immediately I was distracted. “Laura, darling, long time no kiss,” Chloe exclaimed, blocking my view of Cindy as she clasped me to her very ample bosom and all-but devoured my mouth with hers. “I hope you’ve been keeping well and cumming often, even if you haven’t been coming here of late.” “I guess I haven’t been doing too badly,” I said, trying to sound mock-demure. “How about you and the lovely Viv?” “Oh, we keep our ends up,” Chloe chuckled. “Quite regularly, as it happens. Now, what d’you want to drink – your usual?” My usual is a double Frangelico on ice. “Yes thanks. And tell me, what’s Cindy’s favourite tipple?” “Ooh, darling – interested are you?” “She’s a good friend.” “Yeah, right,” Chloe retorted. “Heard that one before. Well, hers is usually a margarita. But she’s not just anyone’s for a drink, you know – not an easy lay, that girl. Mind you,” she added pensively, “she does look as if she’s putting it out a bit tonight, don’t you think?” “Tut-tut, Chloe dear, honi soit qui mal y pense… “ I wagged a mock-reproving finger. “Anyway, get her one on my tab, please – but bring it to me.” There was a vacant table nearby, and I sat down, spellbound, to watch Cindy and her partner dancing. By the time Chloe departed with my order, Ro had put aside her saxophone and was singing the reprise of the song, signalling the approaching end of the number. Her voice was full of the husky vibrancy for which she is renowned, and her subtle phrasing and embroidering of the melody gave the words a capacity to tear at the heart. … I’m not half the girl I used to be… As the final cadence died away, Cindy and her partner, like the other dancing couples, broke their embrace to join in the applause. I was expecting that they would stay together after dancing like that – her partner was an attractive young woman – bur instead Cindy said something to her, she smiled and nodded, and the two hugged briefly, exchanged kisses on the cheek, and then Cindy turned away from her towards me, with a smile that melted me instantly. As she approached, she crossed paths with Liz who was on her way to the bar with her colleagues, and had a brief conversation with her before continuing on her way to me. As she got nearer I saw that she too was braless beneath her semitransparent white blouse and big floppy red bow tie. I had often wondered what her naked breasts looked like, and the hint of their voluptuous firmness and large, dark areolae made me shiver. She bent to kiss me on the mouth and then slipped into the chair beside me.

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