Davina Does Scotland Page 4

I was still flushed from comparing Sue with my mum. Not wanting to make matters worse, I shrugged and said I thought the girl was just being friendly.

  Sue laughed again. ‘Okay, I believe you. Of course you haven’t noticed. You wouldn’t do, would you? Not when you have girls giving you the eye all the time.’

  ‘I wish,’ I said, putting down the best sexuality marker I could think of.

  She just smiled and offered me a slice of sponge cake.

  *****

  Thanks to the Deuchars (aided and abetted by all that Kenyan coffee) I spent the early part of a long afternoon wanting to make wee-wee. For me things began to look up at three thirty when the courier turned up with my replacement part.

  And, I must confess, his timing pleased me. My help desk buddy had given a slot spanning between three and four; it arriving exactly in the middle appealed to my sense of symmetry.

  (Sorry, I should have given a nerd alert before saying that!)

  As the branch was still busy there was no chance of me booting everything down and installing the part straightaway. Instead I took it into the back and tested it as best I could.

  ‘Is there a problem’ Sue asked, regarding me anxiously.

  ‘None at all,’ I assured her. ‘As soon as you close I’ll fit it and be off.’

  ‘I really can’t have you risking your life in the rush hour,’ she said. ‘Spend the night in my spare room instead; catch a plane tomorrow.’

  I dithered at that. On one hand the idea of spending more time with Sue was super-attractive. On the other it just meant more frustration and mental torture.

  And what would her husband think of her putting up a girl like me!

  ‘Thanks for the offer but let’s see how it goes,’ I hedged. ‘We might still be here with everything in bits come ten o’clock. Let’s play it as we go.’

  Sue nodded and reiterated I was welcome in her home.

  Still in a bit of a dither, I checked plane times when she went back out into the office. Unless I wanted to hop around the UK, I had the choice of that six thirty direct flight, one on Saturday and sod all after ‘til Monday. Sue was probably right, I concluded; I really would be pushing it to catch Friday’s shuttle. And when I did a job, I took pride in doing it right. No way could I just slam in a replacement part and swan off without thoroughly testing its performance.

  Reluctant as I was to meet Sue’s “better half”, I booked the Saturday flight, telling myself that my line-manager was updated and had endorsed my decisions so far; that if the worst came to the worst, he would readily sign off a second night at the Travelodge.

  ‘Sod it,’ I muttered before going out into the customer-facing area. ‘At least I’ll get another nice curry tonight. And that certainly won’t go amiss.’

  *****

  Sandra was the last of the “help” to leave. Her farewell to me was, to say the least, gushing. And here is a confession: if she’d asked me for my number she’d have got it.

  She didn’t though, so I let her slip off and vanish into the Friday night scene of Aberdeen, doubtless to soon re-emerge in black leather or PVC.

  ‘Alone at last,’ said Sue.

  I couldn’t help but notice she’d removed her cravat and unfastened the top two buttons of her blouse. She’d done likewise the previous evening, but not nearly so early in proceedings.

  Surely not, I thought.

  ‘Take your time,’ Sue said, as if I was fumbling at bolts, eager to be away,’ ‘the rush hour round here’s terrible. Play it as you go. I’ll get us coffees.’

  I had installed the replacement and done all the necessary refastening before she came back.

  ‘All done,’ she said, only too obviously disappointed.

  ‘All but for an hour of testing,’ I replied. ‘I guess I’ll be taking you up on your offer after all.’

  *****

  We arrived at the restaurant an hour or so earlier than the night before. It was a little quieter but Rafiq greeted us with at least the same warmth. Pints and poppadums had appeared before we even got to our table.

  ‘Wave to the barman when you want more,’ he said, extravagantly presenting us with our menus.

  (And as if Sue didn’t already know that little trick!)

  ‘I’ll have the usual,’ she said, ignoring the menu and swigging beer.

  ‘And I’ll have the same as last night,’ I added. ‘That’s . . .’

  ‘No problem at all,’ Rafiq finished for me. ‘Enjoy!’

  For once silence descended on the two of us. We eyed each other across a table laden with the most amazing silver Indian cutlery, drinks and pre-meal snacks.

  ‘Are you sure I can sleep in your spare room,’ I ventured. ‘I can easily find somewhere else. I really do not want to put your husband out or anything.’

  ‘He effed off to Edinburgh three years ago,’ she said, still eying me. ‘The decree nisi is framed and on the wall in my lounge. I only wish you could put him out. He deserves all he gets.’

  ‘Oh,’ said I, rather lamely.

  Sue’s gaze shifted from my face to her left hand. ‘I suppose you noticed my ring,’ she said. ‘I can’t get the bloody thing off. It’s shrunk or my knuckle’s grown, or something.’

  ‘Have you tried using soap and hot water,’ I suggested helpfully, not mentioning that it was one of my mum’s old remedies (yes, she did remedies as well as sayings!).

  ‘I’ve tried everything,’ Sue said, holding out her hand. ‘Here, see if you can shift it.’

  For a girl with a lot of same-sex experience I found touching her fingers to be very erotic. In fact it was so erotic I had to hold onto her left hand with my left and grip her ring with my right.

  ‘It’s stuck,’ I conceded. ‘You’ll have to saw it off.’

  ‘What,’ she laughed, ‘my third finger!’

  We were still chuckling and gazing into each other’s eyes when our starters arrived. Come to that, we were still chuckling and gazing into each other’s eyes when our mains were done and Rafiq joined us, bearing a bottle of white and three glasses.

  ‘Please,’ he said, ‘may I sit with you and share a glass. This bottle is on me.’

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Rafiq’s agreeable company stopped me from blurting out leading questions, which was probably just as well. I’m great at small talk but useless at intimate verbal foreplay. As you may have noticed, I am more of an “up and at ‘em” sort of a girl when it comes to verbal foreplay.

  So we made three-way small talk and drained the bottle just before a fresh rush of diners arrived and our host had to excuse himself.

  ‘Him and your knickers,’ Sue said, leaning across the table and whispering to me, giving me every chance to glance down and see inside those two opened buttons. ‘Or would you prefer Sandra?’

  ‘I’m happy to be here with you,’ I told her. ‘Sandra’s too young and Rafiq’s too much of a man.’

  Sue smiled and sipped the last of her wine. ‘Some of my acquaintances think Friday night’s the night to go out and get wasted,’ she said. ‘The Bonnie Prince is great for that activity. But I have to work tomorrow and if I get started on the single malts I can’t always stop. Do you think you can save me from myself?’

  ‘I can be pretty dangerous on single malts,’ I admitted. ‘This place of yours; the one I’m invited to stay in. Does it have kids or anything?’

  ‘I’ve no kids, thank God,’ Sue held up a hand, ‘not that I don’t aspire to have kids one day; I’m just glad that I missed out with that flipping SOB.’

  ‘I’m getting the taste for dry white,’ I countered. ‘We could always find an offy and drink some more at yours.’

  Sue grinned at me. ‘Never mind the offy; I’ve a fridge full to busting as it is.’

  *****

  You know me and comparisons, but I’ll allow myself one at this point: Sue’s kitchen table was as good as Kat’s. It was solid and sturdy and would have been great to have sex on. It was also the only thing in her apart
ment that wasn’t coloured jet-black or brilliant-white. Leastways, it was in the kitchen and lounge, and that was where we spent the next couple of hours.

  Now, if you are wondering about my earlier guilt trip, please relax. I have always been useless when it comes to lesbian vibes, letting that (inexplicable) God-given attraction draw girls to me instead. I could feel the vibes coming off Sue though. Let’s face it, if I’d been covered in ten-inch armour plating some of them would have still got through.

  Consequently guilt was not on my mind at all. I simply blanked out my ex-schoolmates and cancelled all masturbatory misgivings.

  Live for today, I repeatedly told myself. Bugger yesterday.

  Halfway down our second bottle (our third if you counted Rafiq’s) Sue asked me if I wanted to see the spare room.

  I told her I’d rather have the grand tour.

  She took me by the hand and led me into the master bedroom, telling me to close my eyes before I stepped through the doorway.

  ‘Wow,’ I went as I reopened them, one million per cent sincerely.

  The bedroom was all deep reds and girly pinks. Elaborate tunnels of love were more subtle. The room was there for one purpose only, and that wasn’t for sleeping.

  Or was it?

  ‘I’m embarrassed showing you this,’ said Sue. ‘I always sleep in the spare myself.’

  I took both of her hands in mine and stared at her. ‘You sleep in the spare room?’

  ‘Nobody’s ever . . . you know. The matrimonial home’s long gone and . . . and . . .’

  I kissed her. She kissed back, even more passionately than me. Moving with a mind of their own, my daring fingers skated all over her, avoiding intimate areas, stroking her arms; her waist; her shoulder-blades. Then her tongue was in my mouth and I was gripping onto her ass for dear life.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she said, finally coming up for air.

  ‘Sorry if that was a bit out of the blue,’ I said, grinning at her, still keeping hold of her bum.

  She surprised me by running a hand up the front of my T-shirt and squeezing my nipple.

  ‘These have been driving me mad all day,’ she said, squeezing the other one. I couldn’t believe you would torment me like that.’

  ‘I didn’t realize,’ said I. ‘Please don’t say I’ve brought your branch into disrepute.’

  This time she kissed me and I let Fervent Dave off her leash. FD immediately thrust my tongue into Sue’s mouth and rubbed our groins together. Sue’s response was passion personified. Temperatures rose and our groins rubbed harder and harder.

  Then she was pulling off my T and sucking my nipples, going rapidly from one to the other, as if she couldn’t bear to leave either alone for a second. Lightning bolts shot down my internal superhighway and my pussy started to contract in time to her constantly shifting attentions.

  Don’t ask how but suddenly her blouse was off and I was kissing the tops of her tits while I fumbled to unhook her bra. The temptation to properly feast was massive. Overcoming it, I sank to my knees and unfastened her sensible working day skirt. With the zip down the skirt simply fell away and I had a full view of the treasures beneath.

  And wow again! In the office she’d seemed professional and demure. Standing there in her stockings, garter belt and briefs (all in a fetching black) she could have starred with the Satanic Sluts.

  Unable to resist, I buried my snub of a nose in her knickers, rubbing up and down, pressing the damp material into her slit. Well, okay, it wasn’t just damp . . . she might have been even wetter than I was, and I was as good as drenched.

  Rubbing her like that was fun but not nearly enough for either of us. Taking care not to disturb her so-sexy nylons, I tugged the panties off her and admired a closely-trimmed Bermuda triangle.

  And like wow yet again! She had a tiny ace of spades tattooed on the inside of her thigh, right at the very top. How had I missed seeing that before!

  ‘Follow the arrow,’ she said, in that incredibly seductive burr of hers.

  The arrow pointed to three points of immediate interest: her hood, clit and vagina. Reluctant to choose the wrong one, I used my tongue on the first, the ball of my right thumb on the second and two fingers of my left hand inside the third.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she cried, cumming in an impressive hot gush. Then, urgently: ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop!!’

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  We did actually sleep that night but only for a couple of hours, and we were awake again before Sue’s alarm warned her to get up for work.

  Not that we immediately rushed off or anything. No, Sue made sure she had time enough to nibble my nipples and simultaneously finger me. I was quite content to lie there and let her get on with it. There was no haste in her attentions and consequently no haste at all in me. It was nice. I could have stayed there and taken it for ages.

  Building slowly and steadily, still in no hurry whatsoever, I noticed she was gradually upping the pace. And, perhaps influenced by my opening onslaught the previous evening, she’d started to use both hands.

  ‘Mmmm,’ I went, ‘that’s nice.’

  Sue stopped nibbling and withdrew the two fingers she had been using so well. Before I could groan in disappointment another finger slipped back into me, filling the void.

  ‘Does that feel okay?’ Her burr was sexier than ever.

  ‘It’s better than okay,’ I gasped.

  ‘It’s my ring finger,’ she said. ‘I’m frigging you with my wedding ring.’

  Call me perverted, but a thrill ran through me.

  ‘I hope the bastard can sense it,’ Sue went on. ‘I hope he’s in bed with his little tart and thinking of me, knowing that I’m frigging a wonderful, beautiful girl with his twenty-two carat band of lies.’

  ‘Omigod Ms Johnston,’ I gasped, ‘there is a dark side to you after all.’

  Ignoring my gasp, Sue set about my nipples again, her thumb expertly rolling around and over my clit, that third finger working inside me. And yes, I could feel the ring now I knew it was there. Only slightly rough, it definitely added to the excitement, escalating it at a rate of knots.

  Well okay, I’ll confess more: Sue seemed to know where to find my best bits; she went shallow yet oh so firm and let the band of lies scrape along after her fingertip, arousing ever last millimetre of my insides in seemingly dozens of different ways . . .

  ‘Oh my God,’ I cried, cumming sharply and sensing a second, much larger one hot on its heels.

  ‘Oh my God,’ I yelled. ‘Oh my God yes!!’

  And there it was. Skipping mega and giga, she’d brought me off tera-titanic in less than a minute.

  *****

  ‘Last night was fantastic,’ Sue told me as we dried off after our shower.

  I chuckled. At one stage, before going down on me for the very first time, Sue had warned that she was “well out of practice”. Trust me, I would never have guessed.

  ‘I’ll appoint myself to all callouts up here from now on,’ I said.

  ‘And I’ll go round sabotaging kit to get you the calls.’ Sue laughed then grew serious. ‘I do want to see you again. One night is not nearly enough.’

  ‘I’ve booked a week off next month,’ I said impulsively. ‘I’m going walking in the Lakes. Why don’t you come with me?’

  ‘That sounds good,’ she said, ‘I’ve got holiday that needs taking.’ Then, getting her phone and calling up the diary app. ‘When are you going?’

  ‘It’s the third week of October, before half-term, when it’ll be a bit quieter.’

  ‘Oh crap, I’ve a meeting I can’t miss on the Wednesday. There’s one nearly as important on Tuesday as well.’ Sue frowned a moment. ‘Have you booked and paid yet?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t. Finding somewhere as I go is part of the fun.’

  ‘Come walking in Scotland instead,’ she suggested. ‘We have lakes and mountains here as well, you know.’

  ‘Don’t you mean lochs and monsters?’ I replied, knowing I was going
to play along with her. Addicted already, you see. I wanted to get know Sue and find out why she was out of practice. And I wanted to explore that dark side too. One night with her had been fun but relatively innocent. While I’d settle for more of the same, surely there were some wicked secrets she had to share with me.

  Failing that, surely we could find other things to do with her wedding ring . . .