Fresh Meat

Without really remembering how Angie found herself on the inside of the front door of 38 Albert Drive. The bell had rung, Victoria had opened the door and stepped back a little, Angie had walked in, and the door had closed behind her, almost as if she were operating on automatic pilot.

The scent of Victoria’s perfume, which mingled with that of new carpet, woodwork and paint, was enough to jolt Angie back to reality. Suddenly realising the enormity of what she had done, she stood petrified, scared that by some absent-minded misstep, she had put herself in mortal jeopardy.

Victoria stood back a little, unthreatening. Once again, she was elegantly dressed: Dark pinstripe skirt and a long-sleeved blouse exposing a hint of matching white lace underneath. As before, her makeup was impeccable, her red-painted lips stark in the gloom. She stared at Angie with her appraising look, the one she had bought to bear on Wednesday night. “Did you use discretion, my dear?” Her voice was mild but with an undertone of urgency.

Unable to form words, Angie merely nodded. Her interrogator's face switched to a light frown.

“I told my parents I was going to my friend's house, and my friend I was going to my grandma’s,” Angie stuttered. She felt bad for lying to both parties. Still, in her anxiety at the unknown she faced, she had taken one precaution: Angie had written a note describing what had happened and where she was going, collateral against the possibility that something might happen to her. She left the message prominently placed in her school locker to be easily found should anyone have occasion to search it. If all went well, whatever ‘well’ meant, she could quickly destroy the note later. It was a slightly desperate measure but the smartest thing she could think of in her confused mental state.

To Angie’s relief, Victoria’s frown turned to satisfaction. “Well done. I assume the two parties in question are unlikely to compare notes?”

It took Angie a moment to understand who Victoria was referring to. She shook her head, “Freya and my grandma have never met.” Angie hesitated. A question urgently dominating her thoughts required expression. “What did you mean by ‘more’?”

Victoria’s face lightened as she seemingly became aware of Angie’s soul-deep need. “That’s easy, my dear.” She easily reached forward and drew their lips together.

Angie gave herself up to The Kiss, capital letters just as fitting as before. She had spent so much of the intervening days wondering if Victoria’s lips had really felt as good as her memory suggested; she was surprised to find that sharp reality vastly surpassed her recollection. Better able to comprehend the passage of time on this occasion, Angie could tell that Victoria was in no hurry.

While Angie’s hands felt unable to do anything but hold on to her companion, Victoria’s reached inside her coat and readily explored her torso. The teenage girl's cheeks flushed in response to Victoria’s caress, not because she felt embarrassed, but more that she felt like she was exerting herself just standing still.

Satisfied, Victoria withdrew, leaving Angie to sway slightly. “Is that what you were hoping for?” Her tone was playful, mild.

“I, er. I mean, yes.” Angie struggled to enunciate. She felt like she was flying. Or falling. The only difference, she realised, was her ongoing relationship with the ground.

“Why don’t you leave your coat and bag here, take off those wet shoes and join me in the living room?” Victoria motioned further into the house.

Angie nodded vaguely. She needed space. They were in a hallway with stairs leading up and several open doors leading into other rooms. However, it wasn’t physical space she needed. Victoria exuded a presence, an awareness of her proximity as the centre of a room, even when she was in the corner. It permeated the space around her. In just a hallway, that awareness was overwhelming.

Angie followed, seeing a spartan dining table and chairs in the front room, a newly fitted modern kitchen at the back on the left side and a carefully lit sitting room taking up the rear right. The sofas looked new. The curtains at the back were drawn, and the only light apart from that which entered from the hall was from standing lamps. Much detail was hidden in the shadows.

Victoria sat, effortlessly draping herself over a leather-covered settee. Nervous, Angie kept her distance, remaining standing just inside the doorway.

“Why do you hide yourself, Angelica?” Victoria’s question held an air of genuine curiosity. “Both in the shadows and in those clothes. Please, come into the light so I can see you.”

In damp stocking feet, Angie shuffled out of the lee of the doorway to stand nearer one of the fashionable chrome-plated lamps.

“Take off that horrible jumper, my dear. It’s hard to tell that there is a young woman under there.”

Feeling somewhat warm, Angie pulled off her baggy top. It was too big for her, but her mum had consoled her that she would grow into it. Time might turn that assertion into truth, but Angie felt herself to be big enough and didn’t want to grow any more than she already had.

“Much better,” Victoria reassured from the shadows. “Now, why is it you feel the need to conceal yourself like that? I mean, the long skirt, the thick tights, the frumpy jumper. Angelica, what do you think you need to hide?”

Feeling put upon, Angie rubbed an arm self-consciously. “I’m too tall. People in school call me she-hulk.”

Victoria scoffed. “It sounds like jealousy to me, my dear. You aren’t too tall. You’re an amazon in the making. Statuesque.”

“It’s hard to get a boy to go out with you if you’re taller than he is,” Angie confessed, mostly to the thick carpet.

“Boys,” the shadows scoffed back. “They have their uses, I suppose. Why don’t you show me what you have to work with? Unbutton your blouse.” Victoria’s voice was reasonable, her request sounding modest and simple.

Unsure, Angie hesitated.

“It’s alright, my dear,” careful reassurance dripped from every word. “There’s only you and I in the house. There are no hidden cameras or microphones. You are safe here to be yourself and speak your mind. I won’t laugh. Please, show me what you’re hiding.”

Angie took a deep breath and forced herself to undo each button methodically. She let the white blended cotton fall open to reveal the pale skin of the curve of her tummy and her ill-fitting brassiere.

“Oh dear. That doesn’t look comfortable at all, Angelica. Are you sure your bra is the right size?”

Angie crossed her arms guiltily, knowing she was a cup size too small. “New bras are expensive,” she mumbled.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, my dear.” Victoria’s voice deepened slightly, her words hushed. “Take it off.”

Angie looked down at herself. She was tired of the pinching and the underwires digging into her flesh. She shrugged off the remainder of her school shirt and unfastened her bra strap. She let the garment fall from her shoulders, bringing up a shielding arm as her milky breasts fell free, their little pink nubbins proud against her forearm, reminding her just how exposed she was.

“Oh, Angelica.” Victoria suddenly became animated, her voice full of admiration, her previously understated accent thickening. “Those look lovely.” She effortlessly rose from the sofa, her features coming into stark relief in the lamplight.

“They’re too small,” Angie murmured, resolutely staring at the floor.

“Not a bit of it.” Victoria was there, in front of her. With the lightest touch, she moved Angie’s cradling arm aside and delicately cupped a breast in each hand. “Oh, no. These are perfect. A handful each. Any more would be a waste.”

Angie drew breath at the contact. No one in her living memory had touched her breasts. She had hoped that she might find a boy who would touch her like that, but her excessive height was seemingly too big a hurdle. No one had ever shown her that kind of attention.

“You’re not used to being touched?” Victoria’s voice was sympathetic, her proximity intoxicating. Angie could only shake her head in response.

“How’s this?” Victoria gently ran her thumbs across Angie’s nipples. She gasped in momentary shock. It was like they were hardwired to the pleasure centres of her brain. It was like being tickled but with an added dimension of pleasure. She gulped as Victoria’s thumbs continued to delicately stimulate her.

“How about this?” Victoria lowered her ruby lips to Angie’s left nipple. The feeling was different, softer. Then Victoria began to lick and flick and lightly suck.

“Oh! Ah, that’s… I mean, oh.” Angie had never realised that her nipples were so sensitive. Involuntarily, she had reached for Victoria’s upper arms for support. Her grip tightened as she fought to control herself.

Victoria pulled back to reveal Angie’s hard nipple surrounded by a ruby ring of leftover lipstick. “I wonder if the other one will feel as good?” The pleasure in her voice was obvious. Not waiting for an answer, she set to work on the right nipple, causing Angie’s vocalisations to increase in volume.

Angie wanted to sit or lie down, at least to be supported, while pleasure assailed her brain. She had thought she knew her body. She knew she could rub herself or have the shower do it for her, and that could feel really, really good, but this was streets away from merely ‘good’. How could she have lived in ignorance of this feeling for all this time?

Angie took in a steadying breath as her antagonist pulled away once more, leaving a second red ring on her right breast. Victoria straightened and moved so that their cheeks brushed, and her warm breath tickled Angie’s ear. “‘More’ doesn’t just mean kissing, Angelica.” Angie gasped as her ear felt unexpected contact with Victoria’s tongue. Shocking but pleasant. She felt so sensitised, so alert. Every touch was like a completely new sensation.

Victoria moved back and took Angie’s shaking hand. “Come, I’ve got something to show you.” Powerless to resist, she followed the older woman upstairs.

Victoria pulled an unresisting Angie into the master bedroom. She was eager and excited; her instinct: to force Angie to her knees and between her legs and to have the girl bring her satisfaction, but Victoria hadn’t got where she was by giving in to her impulses. She was on the hunt, and so far, it was going exceedingly well.

Wide-eyed, Angelica turned to look at her reflection in the mirrored front of the wardrobe. With a single finger, Victoria turned her away from the image and back to her. “Not yet, Angelica. Undress me first.”

“You want me to take your clothes off?” Angie sounded dubious. Victoria merely nodded in response, a faintly amused look on her lips and guided the girl's hands to the top button of her blouse.

Victoria had to try to keep her breathing from betraying her excitement as Angie, topless and still in her confoundedly concealing skirt and horrible thick tights, fumbled at her buttons with shaking hands. She remembered anticipation was half the fun and allowed the inexperienced girl to take her time. She could see that Angie was anxious but excited, her half-naked state all but forgotten.

As her blouse slipped from her shoulders, Victoria accommodatingly undid her own brassiere and then waited for Angie to haltingly liberate her lightly tanned breasts. The girl’s eyes couldn’t help but lower as the lace-trimmed silk fell away to reveal Victoria’s ample bust. Angie stared, transfixed until Victoria took hold of her wrists again and guided them down to her own skirt. Seemingly remembering herself, Angie fumbled with the zip and then left it to Victoria to wiggle her hips so the garment pooled at her ankles.

Victoria could see that Angie wasn’t sure how to proceed. To move things along, she pulled her silken knickers down over her suspenders and stockings and stepped out of her heels to reveal her hairless nakedness.

“You’re …, I mean …” Angie stuttered, unable to look away from Victoria’s naked sex.

“Shaven? Yes, my dear, and it feels wonderful.” Victoria declared proudly. She reached around Angie to unfasten her skirt. “Let’s see if the collar matches the cuffs, shall we?”

The inexperienced girl gave her a look of incomprehension until she realised that Victoria was dragging her skirt, tights and knickers down all in one go. Too late to protest, Angie pulled her feet from her tights, damp from the drizzle.

“This is what I wanted you to see.” Victoria turned her naked companion’s body towards the mirror-fronted wardrobe and stood behind and to the side, her arms encompassing her prey possessively. One hand cupped a perky breast while the other dared to reach down to the English girl's uneven, flaxen bush. Angie shuddered deliciously but had nowhere to escape to. Each erect nipple was encircled by smeared red lipstick, making them look like targets.

Victoria nuzzled her ear, nipping it lightly between her teeth. “You have a beautiful body, Angelica. You just have to be brave enough to show it off.” She allowed a finger to explore Angie’s blond curls, feeling her heat and excitement. A moan escaped the tormented girl's lips.

Time for the main event, Victoria thought. She took the nervous girl by the hand and tugged her to the bed, arranging her propped against the metal frame of the headboard, giving herself enough room to crawl up between her legs. Angie was breathing hard and flushed of cheek; apparently unsure what to do with her hands, she gripped the ornate metalwork of the bed frame as if bracing herself for expected pain.

It had been a while since Victoria had been with an unshaven partner, but it was no obstacle. She knew her target, and her tongue sought it out as Angie’s moans increased in volume. Giving the girl her first oral orgasm was so simple and easy for someone as experienced as Victoria. Her only worry was that Angie’s ever-increasing exultations would disturb the old couple in the adjoining house. It was gratifying that her efforts were having an effect, but she would have to mitigate the situation in future. Angie’s wails and moans sounded like a soul-deep despair, as if she were losing her tenuous grip on something precious, something she was desperate to retain but fated to lose.

The slow, deliberate motions of Victoria’s tongue, occasionally assisted by a thumb to rub Angie’s clitoris, inevitably brought the girl right up to her moment of crisis. Seeing no reason to play with the poor thing, she continued pushing Angie over the edge to a thunderous orgasm. She came copiously, but Victoria was ready and gladly lapped up her womanly juices.

Angie had fallen back, limp, by the time Victoria drew herself up alongside her. Knowing the panting girl wouldn’t return to their world for another minute or two, Victoria spooned her, slowly stroking the whisper-fine hairs on her arm and brushing the side of her neck with her nose and lips. She knew from experience that after such throws of passion, Angie would feel vulnerable and that close contact and reassurance were vital to solidifying their connection.

“That was…” Angie could barely find her voice after several minutes of recovery time.

“Just what you needed by the sounds of things. You were quite raucous, my dear.”

Angie put her hand over Victoria’s and turned sideways to look at her wide-eyed and still faintly dazed. “I’m sorry. No one has ever done anything like that to me before.”

Victoria squeezed her reassuringly. “Don’t apologise, Angelica. It’s useful, not to mention very gratifying, to know that my efforts were appreciated. However, given the suburban setting, we might have to take precautions in future.” She could see a question forming in Angie’s mind, perhaps about the nature of ‘precautions’, so she headed it off by planting a kiss on the astonished girl’s lips. By the time they parted, the question was forgotten.

“Your turn now, Angelica.”

“Me?” Angie seemed unable to believe that she could give Victoria the same level of pleasure, which is why it was the perfect time to push her, just a little.

“It’s easy. I’ll talk you through it.” Victoria used her most reassuring tones.

They swapped places, Angie awkwardly squatting between Victoria’s legs, examining her bald pussy with trepidation.

“It won’t bite you,” Victoria chuckled. “Go ahead,” she beckoned with a finger.

As she felt the warm touch of Angie’s young tongue on the hood of her clitoris, Victoria sighed, contented. “That’s it, my dear. Just a fraction harder. Good. Now, why don’t you try moving inside.” Victoria moaned gently. She could tell that Angie was inexperienced, but there was still a world of difference between a girl exploring her innermost folds for the first time and an experienced pet being forced to under duress. Victoria brought her hands down to Angie’s head in order to guide her tongue to just the right spot. She was impressed; her companion was a fast learner and quickly got the trick of continuously moving around to stimulate different areas to prolong the build-up of pleasure.

With patient instruction, Victoria guided Angie into returning the favour of bringing her to orgasm. Angie’s inexperience had prolonged the build-up, but that in itself was another kind of pleasure. “Come up here and kiss me,” Victoria panted as she came down from her heady climax. Her student’s body was hot and prickled with perspiration as they slithered together, skin on skin.

The kiss drew out as Victoria mused about what a promising prospect this girl might be. Her instinct was to have the girl cuffed and chained, a slave to her own carnal appetites, but the hunt had to play out. She needed to woo this maiden, to entice her, to draw her along the path to a point beyond her realisation that it was too late for her to turn back.

They lazily held each other, each exploring the other’s body and languidly kissing. All the while, Angie was seemingly stunned at the heights of pleasure her body could experience while Victoria plotted the path she would take to turn this girl in the service of her own carnal desire.

Victoria glanced at the clock, “We can’t lie here forever. Let’s get cleaned up.” She drew Angie out of bed and towards the bathroom. Having had the house recently renovated, Victoria had been sure to specify that the bath should be removed to create space for a generously sized shower, one big enough for a couple.

Victoria pulled her wide-eyed companion under the steamy jets, and the touching and caressing started anew. Angie found Victoria’s own nipples and stroked and sucked them experimentally. Victoria was enraptured and couldn’t help but bring the girl to a second orgasm as she stood on wobbly legs braced against the tiled wall.

After that, Victoria slowed the pace. She had a timetable to keep, after all. They shared in the rich scented soaps to clean each other and wash each other’s hair. When the flow of water was finally stemmed, the couple dried each other with white fluffy towels and then donned matching terry cloth dressing gowns.

Victoria was watching Angie brush out her long, straight hair when the doorbell rang. The girl's reflection immediately turned to stone mid-brush stroke; her lips parted in a moment of personal terror at the position of vulnerability she found herself in.

Victoria squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, not wanting the girl to panic. “Dinner has arrived. I’ll go and sort that out. Come down and join me in the dining room when you’re ready.”

“Dinner?” Victoria heard Angie squeak behind her as she left the room.

Angie padded downstairs, feeling the thick new carpet between her bare toes. The shock arrival of the food delivery had brought her out of her post-coital haze, and her mind was beginning to work properly again. The luscious nature of the previous few hours aside, Angie’s mind filled with misgivings. However, as the smell of herbs and spicy cooked meat wafted to her nostrils, she also realised she was ravenously hungry.

As Angie reached the hall, also decked out in thick carpet, her host called from the kitchen, “I’m almost ready. Sit down, and I’ll bring in the starter. I hope you like Italian.” Angie turned to the entrance of the stark dining room she had seen earlier, only to find that it was transformed. The table was set with silver cutlery and a pair of candles, creating a sphere of radiance which left most of the room in shadow now that it was dark outside. The effect was one of a cosy, warm centre.

Disconcerted, Angie took a seat at one of the place settings. Each had a fine mat, three sets of knives and forks and two spoons of differing shapes and sizes, a full glass of water and an empty wine glass. Experimentally, she took a sip of her water. It was chilled and sweet, some kind of mineral water perhaps?

Victoria bustled in with two small plates, placed one before Angie and slid the other into the empty place setting before seating herself. A new scent reached Angie’s nostrils, rich and flavoursome. The little plate held a square of flatbread topped with little tomatoes, red onion, herbs and something drizzled on top. Curious about more than just the food, Angie looked up to see Victoria staring at her sympathetically.

Theatrically, Victoria held up the smallest and outermost knife and fork. “When having a three-course meal, the trick with cutlery is to work from the outside in, my dear,” Victoria observed without rancour. When Angie didn’t move, she put her head on one side. “I imagine you have a lot of questions. Ask them, but let’s not let the food get cold in the process, shall we?”

Angie took a bite of a corner of the bread loaded with its topping. She had eaten Italian food many times at home, thinking of the pasta dishes and frozen pizzas which made easy family meals, but this was something worlds away. The bread was pleasantly warm despite being delivered and hard but tempered by some kind of delicious vinegar and olive oil, and the tomatoes were sweet and garnished by the herbs. The overall effect was one of a fusion of flavours which made Angie’s eyes open wide with wonder.

“You like it?” Victoria enquired, although her face betrayed that she already knew the answer.

“It’s like nothing else I’ve ever tasted.” Angie’s voice betrayed wonder.

“Good.” Satisfaction radiated from Victoria’s features. “Ask your questions then.”

Angie prepared another morsel so that she could enjoy the food while listening to answers. “Why me?” She squeaked, nervous.

“That is the only question that really counts, isn’t it, my dear?” Victoria nodded sagely. “I like taking an inexperienced lover. I like being able to experience everything anew through their eyes. I can induct them into the world of carnal desire and have them make love to me in the way that I want. I get to enjoy the rich and passionate attentions which only a young lover can provide, and they get to learn all manner of skills in the bedroom and receive a modicum of pleasure in return. Does that seem like an amicable exchange to you?”

Angie was unable to fault Victoria’s logic, but it still hadn’t answered what she wanted to know. “But why me specifically? And why pick me up at school?”

Victoria considered her answer over a mouthful of bruschetta before answering. “I think I justified my choice in the mirror upstairs. You are beautiful; anyone who has seen you as I have would know that. Statuesque, but with curves in all the right places and on the very cusp of womanhood. I have a good eye, and I suspected what you were hiding under those baggy clothes when we first met. As to why at the school,” Victoria shrugged while attempting to form her response. “When you get older, you’ll realise that everyone brings their own baggage to a relationship. If you pick somebody up in a bar, it’s because they want to be picked up; they have their own agenda. I like being with someone who just wants to have fun in the bedroom, whom I can instruct in what I like, feel their unbridled passion and enjoy watching them experience everything for the first time. Of course, I could seek the services of a professional, but in my experience, financial remuneration is not sufficient encouragement for genuine passion.”

Angie digested this as she finished the remainder of her starter. It took a while for her to realise that the ‘services of a professional’ equated to paying a prostitute. “But the difference in our ages? I mean…?”

Victoria chuckled, “My, how prudish of you, Angelica.” She shook her head dismissively. “As long as you’re old enough for activities in the bedroom, I don’t think it matters. As I said, you are nearly a grown woman, with all of the pleasures and inhibitions which come with that. If our relationship is mostly confined to the bedroom, why should it be a problem?”

Angie tried to form a question or some kind of protest. After all, kids at school were persecuted mercilessly for choosing a partner just a few years younger. How old must Victoria be? 30, at least? Before she could give voice to her misgivings, Victoria added, “Of course, if you're with someone else your own age and level of experience and you would prefer to explore pleasures of the flesh with them, I can appreciate that and will gracefully concede. You told me you didn’t have a boyfriend, I never asked you if you had a girlfriend.”

Angie flushed. She thought ever so briefly of Milla, about what might have been, before her mind veered away. She shook her head, abashed. “No, I’m not with anyone.” She thought of Rayan. If she found herself in bed with him, would he have given her the multiple orgasms Victoria had?

“Let me bring the main course out before it goes cold,” Victoria suggested, rising from her seat. Angie nodded absently. The answers received just inspired more questions. She was jerked from her thoughts by the fizz of light gold being poured into her wine glass.

“It’s non-alcoholic,” Victoria reassured. She disappeared and returned with two steaming plates. Each was a riot of colour. Generous pasta parcels stuffed with what appeared to be some kind of cream cheese, vegetables in red, purple and green, flavoursome chunks of chicken, all sprinkled with nuts and pungent powdery cheese. Angie closed her eyes and inhaled in excited anticipation of the new dish before allowing herself a mouthful. It was even better than the previous course, and although she wanted to eat more, a question burned within her.

“Are you gay?” Angie stuttered, not wanting to offend but unsure how else to broach the subject.

“Are you?” Victoria replied enigmatically.

Angie blinked. Since ‘The Kiss’ the question had been at the back of her mind but had never made it to the point of conscious consideration. Perhaps it was a notion she just didn’t want to face. Something so huge might tilt her life in an entirely different direction. It was too much to think about solely based on a single kiss, despite the capital letters it demanded. Now that she had tasted ‘more’, Angie still felt no closer to resolving the issue.

Seeing that an answer wasn’t fourth coming, Victoria pressed on. “I don’t think it matters. It’s not a question I really think about. I take pleasure where I find it, and if I need it, I go in search of it. Had I picked up a boy at your school, they would come with a different set of complications from yourself, but I might have done it.” Angie could almost see Victoria imagining what it might have been like if she had taken a boy to bed, but when her stare returned from its inward journey, she didn’t display any signs of disappointment.

Seeing that Angie was still stuck on the question, Victoria continued. “Forgive me, Angelica. It was unfair of me to ask. At your age, I expect you have no idea who you are in the bedroom. I’m not trying to convince you one way or another, but I would like to enjoy some more of your delightful company.”

“More?” Angie nearly choked on a mouth full of delicious chicken.

“Of course, my dear.” Victoria gestured to the bedroom above, “What we did here was just a taster. A tiny morsel when compared to the pleasures I have yet to teach you.”

“More,” Angie breathed to herself, unable to conceive of what such a simple word might entail.

“What I’m suggesting is that we meet every Friday as we did today. You arrive at 4 o’clock sharp. We can enjoy each other’s company in the bedroom, and then we can enjoy dinner together. I will have a taxi booked to take you home around 9 o’clock, much as I have booked for this evening. I don’t want you to have to walk the streets after dark on my account.”

Angie’s mouth opened, then she closed it again, unsure how she wanted to respond.

Victoria seemed amused by her hesitance. “You’re under no obligation, Angelica. If you don’t arrive by 4 o’clock on any given week, I’ll assume that you aren’t interested or that you want to break things off, and I will respect that. Does that suit you?”

Angie nodded uncertainly, her mind trying to catch up as matters seemed to have began racing ahead of her. “But what? I mean, why? Your… I’m just a kid, really. What would we even talk about? Do you want to hear about how my school day went? My latest mock exam results? Would you talk to me about work? What do you even do for a living?”

Victoria nodded at Angie’s misgivings. “Doubtless, we could find common ground if we wanted to. My work is complicated,” seeing protest form on Angie’s face, Victoria elaborated. “I’m a woman of independent means, an entrepreneur. I own shares in various businesses and am on the board of directors for some others as a non-executive member.” Angie stared back at her with incomprehension. “This house, I bought it and had it renovated so that I could rent it out to business people visiting the city for an extended time. In the long run, it's cheaper than a hotel for them, but from my point of view, I can charge more than a normal rental due to the short-term nature of the contract and the high quality of the facilities.”

“This isn’t your home?” Angie wasn’t so surprised, given its spartan nature and its lack of the lived-in feel of her own home.

“No, but it is my house and a useful way station to me on occasion.”

Angie gave the matter thought. It struck her almost like an ‘after-school sex club’. The idea amused her but seemed utterly impractical. “My parents,” she began to form a reluctant protest.

Victoria gave a sympathetic nod. “That is why discretion must be our watchword. We aren’t doing anything illegal, but I doubt your parents or other people in your life would understand. That is why this little arrangement of ours must be completely private.” Victoria became stern. “I think your ruse of telling different people different stories should hold up, given they are never likely to question each other, but we must be careful. You tell no one, not your family, not your best friend, not your cat. Discretion is my sole condition.” Her features softened again, “think about it while I bring the dessert in.”

Angie sighed, turning her stare inwards. Continuing would mean lying to Freya and her parents, and in return, she would get what? After-school sex club followed by lovely food? Would it harm them so very badly not to know? Angie cringed when she thought about what her stepdad might say if he found out. It was as much in her interests to keep what she had already done secret, let alone any further meetings.

Victoria set a dish in front of Angie containing some kind of light sponge topped with a thick dusting of fine cocoa. Her mind still in turmoil, she nearly choked again as the powerful flavour of the liqueur soaking the sponge reached her taste buds.

“Tiramisu,” Victoria explained. “It won’t get you drunk, but it does have a kick.”

“I like it,” Angie proclaimed, getting used to the intense flavour. They finished the rest of their dessert in contemplative silence before Angie took to sipping the sweet non-wine from her glass. “I still want more,” she announced finally.

“More dinner, or more of me?” Victoria playfully asked.

Angie smiled. “It had better be you because I’m stuffed now.”

A look of satisfaction crossed Victoria’s features. “Give me your mobile phone number so that I can text you if I’m going to be late. I promise not to harass you on it if you decide to change your mind.” Angie dutifully wrote out her number on a scrap of paper before Victoria declared: “We should get some clothes on. Your taxi will be here soon.”

Back in her dowdy school uniform, Angie waited in the hall with Victoria, dressed in her own office garb but without makeup. “It’s so I can kiss you goodbye without leaving you covered in lipstick," she explained. "I think that really would make your parents suspicious.”

Angie laughed to cover how strangely burdened she felt with the agreement they had struck. She soon forgot when Victoria demonstrated her commitment by kissing her long and deeply. As they pulled away, a car’s horn sounded outside.

“Just tell him where you want to go, but might I suggest you only get a ride to the end of your street rather than your front door? Discretion, remember?” With a brief look back, Angie ran through the rain to the waiting cab and headed home, her mind full of a mix of champagne bubbles and doubts.