A Fateful Bargain

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Author’s note: This is the second part of a continuing story; but I have tried to make sure that each story stands on its own—with a beginning, middle, and a climax (or two). So, read the first section if you liked this one, but start here if you wish.

Lizzie closed the door gently as she tiptoed into her apartment. She was exhilarated; she felt guilt-stricken; she was aroused, and yet also satisfied. All of her senses, and more, her emotions were on edge. The smallest sensation triggered intense memories and feelings. She knew that she was unalterably and undeniably in love; she had been in love before, but it was something altogether different than this.

She slipped off her shoes by the door and walked quietly in her socks to the bedroom. She felt waves of guilt, almost like nausea, run through her stomach as she saw reminders of her lover, her partner, who she had just so fully betrayed. She slowly walked on the cold floor in her socks towards their room.

Glowing in the darkness, she noticed the time first: 3:47 a.m. And then she saw in the soft glow of streetlights coming in through the window, her lover’s shoulder, exposed to the chilly air. She bit her lip gently, and stared, still slightly tipsy, and entirely alive to her physical being; her heart beat slowly, her breathing was steady, the air cold, her pussy, still wet and quivering; her soul, her mind, her heart was a confused jumble, and she didn’t know how this could end well. But through the confusion, she could feel a love for Jacqueline that she knew would never leave her. She did not want to leave her, and she knew that she never would—that she couldn’t. Jacqueline was the love of her life. And even as she thought this, she felt the falseness of it. What then was Jeremy? The man who had touched her heart in ways that Jacqueline never had? She tested the words until they fit her emotions: Jacqueline and Jeremy were the loves of her life. Both of them, somehow. Feeling more drunk than ever, and more confused by this resolve of hers, she went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Lizzie wasn’t long, and she climbed into bed only a nightshirt on, as was her custom. She faced away from Jacqueline and closed her eyes—she knew she would never get to sleep until she had this figured out, until she knew how to get through this. But she did not know her own mind, and soon fell asleep, dreaming confused dreams of high school.

Lizzie could feel her vagina throbbing as she began to awaken. She had been dreaming of a boy in one of her English classes, and she could feel his small prick inside her, impossibly pressing her, probing her as if her could sense all her pleasures. She stifled a simultaneous yawn and moan, and smiled at the way dreams have of both satisfying and spurring desire.

And then she felt a hand reach up her shirt to play with her nipple, and she sensed another one lightly stroking the outside of her vagina. She moaned aloud this time, and turned her head over her shoulder to kiss Jacqueline on the mouth. It was a short kiss, full of an everyday passion, diminished perhaps in intensity, but not in strength. It had been a long time since Jacqueline had chosen to wake her up like this, softly arousing her until the pleasure drew her into consciousness. It was her favorite way to wake up.

After the kiss, Jacqueline pulled Lizzie’s shirt up so she could kiss her back, and she traced kisses down to her buttocks. Lizzie lifted the shirt over her head, exposing her small, soft body to Jacqueline’s ravishings. Lizzie lay on her back as Jacqueline gently kissed her mons, her fingers parting her vaginal lips with a practiced and erotic ease. Lizzie shuddered—she had come so far in her sleep, she already felt her orgasm building. All thanks to the magic small prick of the boy from English class whose name she could no longer remember. Jacqueline’s tongue darted between Lizzie’s lips, and then up to meet her nub, lapping it, then sucking it. Jacqueline’s hands caressed Lizzie’s ass, then moved up her back. Too quickly, Lizzie could feel her pleasure cresting and with a loud, half-stifled moan, she came.

Jacqueline lay her head down on Lizzie’s stomach after a moment, and smiled up at her lover. “You know I love you,” she said.


Jacqueline lay with Lizzie for a few minutes before getting up to prepare for work. She had heard Lizzie arrive home early in the morning; for the past few weeks, she had known that Lizzie was hiding something from her. They had lived together for four years.

Lizzie had been a college senior when they had first met; or rather, she had just finished her junior year and would be returning to her school for her senior year. They had happened upon one another in a bookstore in the city, both searching for the latest David Sedaris work. Lizzie had backed into Jacqueline accidentally, and in trying to catch Jacqueline’s falling handful of books had managed to caress her breasts, loose under a tight shirt van escort in the summer heat. Lizzie had never been with a woman; she had never thought of it; she had had boyfriends and lesser male partners for her whole life; and though she later confessed to Jacqueline that her bookstore caress was entirely accidental, Jacqueline had assumed at the time that it was an awkward pass. In the moment Lizzie’s fingertips had stroked the sides of Jacqueline’s breasts, Jacqueline had felt a youthful horniness that she had almost forgotten.

Jacqueline was in her early thirties when she first met Lizzie; a lawyer on the partner track at a prestigious Manhattan firm. She had been living a celibate life for much longer than she wanted. A long time ago, she had sworn off men—after some curious but otherwise unfulfilling experiences in high school, she had found a girlfriend and happiness during college. But the pressures of law school followed by the long hours of a freshman attorney followed by the pressure and long hours of a successful career had left her without time for dating or a love life. Just a few months before, she had stared at herself in the mirror for several hours before deciding that she must not be that attractive anymore, that age had finally caught up to her. The woman Lizzie saw though, the woman anyone who encountered Jacqueline saw, was a dazzling beauty. Jacqueline had a confidence in who she was that was manifest in her walk, in her smile, in her posture. Though she certainly looked her age, this made her no less beautiful.

In the moment Jacqueline thought that this beautiful young girl was feeling her up, she felt a joy that had long been absent from her days. Jacqueline bent down with Lizzie to retrieve the fallen books and thanked her as she lightly touched Lizzie’s elbow. Jacqueline’s pussy began to stir, and when they had both risen, she began talking about books and comedy. Jacqueline smiled at Lizzie and the conversation continued easily. Lizzie later explained that even at this point, she hadn’t noticed Jacqueline’s special attentions. But Lizzie felt drawn to this intelligent and beautiful woman. If she had been forced to express this attraction in words, she would have said that she admired this woman—intelligent, beautiful, independent, confident, successful. When Jacqueline suggested they continue talking over coffee, Lizzie agreed, and after an hour discussing their individual literary explorations, they exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet again in a few days for breakfast before Lizzie’s first day of a law office internship.

Jacqueline’s erotic life came alive again as she anticipated meeting Lizzie again. She was uncertain of where this relationship might go, but that was part of the pleasure. She began to masturbate as soon as she had come home from work, before making her daily chicken salad. She had no use for the erotic videos she had bought in desperation several years ago; she rarely even used a vibrator; instead, she stroked and rubbed herself with her fingers, imagining Lizzie’s youthful tongue instead pleasing her. The fantasy still excited her tremendously after several days, and she began to wonder if it would ever really happen.

When the morning of the breakfast arrived, Jacqueline had worn her sexiest work skirt and blouse and arrived ten minutes early to the restaurant they had agreed to meet at. Lizzie arrived late and looked frazzled. She sat down opposite Jacqueline as soon as she spotted her across the dining area and hurried across. Jacqueline could not have prepared herself for Lizzie’s must anticipated first words on seeing her again, “I think I’m going to throw up!” Jacqueline’s lust was dimmed and a maternal instinct took over. She got up and took the seat next to Lizzie, and held her close to her in an unfortunately nonsexual way.

“It’s alright, honey. You’re gonna do fine. They don’t expect you to know anything on your first day—remember, I work in a law firm. I deal with interns all the time. And you’ll catch on quick.” All of this was not strictly true. She rarely dealt with interns, and she had a foreboding that Lizzie’s first day would not be that easy. The law firm she was interning at had just been caught in a minor scandal and nerves were sure to be frayed. But she knew of no other way to comfort her, and telling her the full truth would have done her no service. So Jacqueline comforted her with careful lies.

Lizzie calmed down shortly, and they each ate a small breakfast. Lizzie was too nervous, and Jacqueline felt a dull ache in her stomach that she associated with both a pleasant hunger and the pangs of love. Jacqueline kept reinforcing Lizzie’s confidence and explaining to her how unimportant the first day would be, and much too quickly for either of them, the time came for them both to head off to their respective offices.

Jacqueline found herself fantasizing about Lizzie all day—her mind wandering off during meetings, escort van while eating lunch, while walking back from work; her thoughts were often sexual, but now also tinged with concern over how Lizzie’s day was progressing. As she walked to her apartment, she wondered if it would be appropriate for her to call Lizzie to see how her day went. They had never exchanged phone calls, and had only met for these two brief times. They certainly had a connection, but Jacqueline was not sure exactly what kind of connection it was, and she hesitated. She decided to wait until the early night to call.

Jacqueline ate dinner alone in her apartment—a chicken salad and Chinese food she had ordered in; she opened a new bottle of wine and drank a glass with her meal as she watched TV. She found herself on her third large glass when her phone rang. She could feel the effects of the alcohol on her brain as she swayed when she got up to answer it.

“Jacqueline, are you there?” a voice sobbed as she answered.

It took Jacqueline a few moments to place the voice, even though that voice was heard so often in her fantasies. “Lizzie, is that you?”

Lizzie sobbed on the phone and Jacqueline could barely understand what she was saying. “I’m so sorry to bother you,” Lizzie kept repeating, “but I just needed to talk to someone and my parents would never want to hear about me screwing up. They always expect me to do everything right, and it was awful. I just need to talk to you…” Lizzie’s voice trailed off, and Jacqueline wondered what it was Lizzie was asking of her.

“You can stop by my place, and we can talk…” Jacqueline suggested. “If you want,” she added.

Lizzie tearily agreed and got directions. She kept thanking Jacqueline for understanding. And when Lizzie arrived, Jacqueline had walked her to the couch, and Lizzie poured out her feelings, vented and cried, and Jacqueline held her gently, kissing the top of her head. Her lust was momentarily forgotten. She offered Lizzie a glass of wine, and they both kept refilling their glasses as Lizzie told the story of her day—an eventful day it was, and crushing for a girl’s first taste of the working world.

They were both tipsy—or even drunk, when Lizzie finished; Jacqueline was half-sitting on the couch with Lizzie lying down on stomach. They felt the naturalness of the position, and the comfort. Jacqueline stroked Lizzie’s hair. She could feel Lizzie breathing and sensed that Lizzie had vented as much as she needed to; Jacqueline’s finger traced the curve of Lizzie’s cheek, and Lizzie turned her head to look up at this beautiful older woman. Jacqueline smiled down at her, and with both hands now gently holding Lizzie’s face, she guided it up to her own and kissed her.


Lizzie overslept and was late for work; she had unwisely fallen back to sleep after Jacqueline’s erotic good morning; her post-coital bliss had been shattered when she remembered Jeremy. I love Jeremy, and I love Jacqueline. But how can I have both? Is it even fair? The torment receded into dreams and then into panic when she realized it was time for her to be at work already. Jacqueline had already gone, and she quickly sprinted through her morning rituals. She made her apologies at work and wondered what she would say to Jeremy at lunchtime. Everyday for the past month, they had met for lunch; and they had agreed the night before after their first incredible sexual encounter to meet again this day.

Lizzie was still running late when she arrived at the restaurant to see Jeremy. He kissed her on the lips when she arrived, and she felt a thrill run through her before she sat down. She didn’t know how she could ever leave him. They shared their first intimate lunch, sitting next to one another like lovers rather than across like friends. He kept whispering in her ear, and his hands touched her familiarly and discretely. Her pussy ached for him again. She didn’t know how she had ever gone so long without his touch.

They walked back together to the office building they shared and kissed before parting again. She had made plans to meet him after work for a brief dinner during lunch and the rest of her day sped by as she guiltily looked forward to being with him. She had told him the night before, when they were both recovering, that she was in a long-term relationship with a woman. But they had agreed to just continue on for now and figure out how to resolve the complications later. The heady mix of love and lust that had brought them together would not brook time for reflection or second thoughts. After dinner, Jeremy invited Lizzie back to his apartment and they shared an evening of pleasure.

Lizzie explained to Jacqueline when she arrived home later that night that she was working late at the office. And for the next several weeks, Lizzie worked late at the office every night. She came home to Jacqueline every night, and Jacqueline did not ask questions. Jacqueline van escort bayan had wanted to make love to Lizzie more and more in recent days, waking her up with her tongue on her pussy, making love to her at night before they slept. Lizzie was in a sexual fog—trying to satisfy two lovers who each wanted to give her so much pleasure. Jacqueline had begun to woo her again, as she had that summer years before when they had first met. Lizzie found rose petals in the bathtub and Jacqueline had bought tickets to the newest musical on Broadway for the next Saturday.

Lizzie kept remembering the summer she had first met Jacqueline; the first time they had made love, and the exhilarating joy of their new relationship. It reminded her so much of her feelings for Jeremy. The first time Jacqueline made love to Lizzie she wasn’t scared, as she had been before her first time with a boy. All her actions felt natural and pleasurable. She had been startled by the first kiss, but quickly fell under Jacqueline’s spell. So long dormant, Jacqueline’s sexuality blossomed with Lizzie.

Lizzie could remember Jacqueline guiding her to the bedroom where she had slowly removed all of Lizzie’s clothes, touching her and admiring her body. Jacqueline had eaten her out as no boy had ever been able to do, and Lizzie came violently. Then Jacqueline had guided Lizzie’s face down to her own pussy, and Lizzie had found she enjoyed giving this woman pleasure. That night under Jacqueline’s direction, Lizzie had learned a dozen ways to please her.

Their relationship had always been of equals, but in the bedroom, Jacqueline was dominant. She enjoyed pleasing Lizzie, but more, she enjoyed it when Lizzie tried so hard to please her. Lizzie went to finish her senior year of college, and after she came back, she moved in with Jacqueline.

Their relationship had been remarkably stable and pleasurable over the years. Until now. Lizzie continued to see Jeremy every day; and Jacqueline continued to ignore Lizzie’s infidelities as she tried to woo her back.

As the night of the Broadway play approached, Lizzie began to sense that Jacqueline was planning a romantic evening for the two of them; Lizzie could sense the importance Jacqueline was placing on it; she knew she must tell her soon about Jeremy; she began to develop a plan.


Lizzie had bought a new outfit for her special date with Jacqueline; she wanted to go for the drop-dead gorgeous look, and she was pretty certain she had found it. Jacqueline almost purred when Lizzie walked into the room; Lizzie did a twirl and bit her bottom lip lightly. She looked to Jacqueline for a sense of approval that she appreciated even as she expected it. Jacqueline met her every expectation of praise, and Lizzie was glad she had taken the time to find a special outfit. This night had to be perfect, she knew, for her plan to work. Lizzie’s pussy was tingling thinking of it, even as her mind was nervous mulling over all the possible ways it could backfire.

The evening went quickly—an enjoyable show led to dinner at a nice restaurant, and then to a club for dancing. They came back to their apartment somewhat early, but eager to continue the evening with a long night of lovemaking. They hadn’t enjoyed an evening together like this for a long time.

Lizzie led Jacqueline by the hand to the bedroom as she grabbed an opened bottle of wine; Lizzie drank some, then some more, straight from the bottle, and she could feel her pussy as wet as it had been ever for Jeremy. She had never been so certain of her plan. Jacqueline took the bottle from Lizzie and put it down on the bed as she felt Lizzie’s nipples through her clothes. The older woman kissed Lizzie passionately.

She gently pushed Lizzie back onto the bed, still fully clothed and began to kiss all over her body, sucking gently on her tits, her hand pressing against Lizzie’s mound, kissing her neck, her stomach, the skirt over her pussy. Lizzie moaned; she knew that Jacqueline would soon bring her to ecstasy, but only after an interminable amount of teasing. And Lizzie loved every minute of it. She was putty in Jacqueline’s hands, and Jacqueline manipulated her expertly, as only a lover who cares and knows for her could. Jacqueline kissed Lizzie again on the mouth, and asked Lizzie to remove all her clothes so that she could watch. Lizzie got off the bed and, touching her pussy through her skirt and panties, began to remove her top. She took time to massage each areola through her bra after she tossed her shirt to the ground. Then she expertly unhooked her bra, slowly, pulling it off to reveal her perfect medium-sized breasts. “Just enough to fit inside a wine glass,” Jeremy had said, demonstrating this with an appropriately shallow glass.

She groaned as she tweaked her nipples herself, and Jacqueline smiled in the semi-darkness of their room. Jacqueline felt a happiness wash over her, a joy and a lust excited by this young girl putting on a show just for her benefit; she was too busy to think, but if she had the inclination to express herself, she would have expressed her feelings thus: “This is the girl that I have loved all these years; this is the girl who made me lust her; this is the girl who is the love of my life.”

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