tagRomanceAn Elegant Seduction Pt. 03

An Elegant Seduction Pt. 03


In parts one and two of An Elegant Seduction, Lynne has been teaching Petra to ride and preparing her for a role as a lesbian in a period World War II movie. In part three she accompanies Lynne on a dinner date to Fiona and Shannon's house to see how a lesbian couple act in real life. Back at the house however a little foot massage has unexpected consequences.

I've been a movie buff for years and whenever someone asks what my favourite movie is I'm always struggling to come up with an answer and inevitably throw a random title out to avoid sounding dumb. I loved the Star Wars movies, and Alien was also a great movie because of Sigourney Weaver but one movie I often mention when chatting up a woman is Notting Hill. Okay, so Julia Roberts makes me go weak at the knees, but it's one of those movies where I don't have to think about how close it is to real life and could that really happen? I can just take my brain out and kick back now and then, it's even better when I'm snuggled up to someone.

Having admitted that it was surreal to find myself in such close contact with an actual star and up until then I'd not really acknowledged the fact. Even during dinner the conversation had been a bit more mundane, no tales of red carpet shenanigans but when I got home I logged onto Netflix and did a search for Petra and soon found her first movie, Dark Night where she plays the part of an eighteenth century vampire in the twenty first century. It was a minor role but somehow seeing her on screen like that set my pulse racing, this was no dream. This woman was actually asking for my advice and who the hell was I to advise anyone? What if I said the wrong thing or totally screwed up? I spent a restless night trying to find some way through the maze but came to no conclusions as sleep finally claimed me.

I woke to find a shadow leaning over me that coalesced and took solid form. Petra was sitting on the edge of my bed wearing a white shirt with thin blue checks and jeans. I blinked and rubbed my eyes as she hooked her thumb over an ornamental Western belt buckle.

"Sorry, sorry, I overslept."

"By about an hour," she checked her watch, "but that's okay, I can wait outside."

"No you can stay," I sat up slowly and held the duvet against myself, "I have to shower."

"Do you want some breakfast or a coffee?"

"Coffee would be great," I inched out of bed.

"Do you want me to look away?"

"No, I'm fine with it," I reached for my dressing gown, "we're both women."

She didn't seem to care that I was naked and then I remembered her comment about being unabashed about nudity. Nevertheless, I was taken aback when my phone started ringing while I was in the shower.

"Do you want me to answer that?" Petra called out.

"Please," I yelled out, "tell them I'll call them back."

I didn't hear much more than that until the door opened and a moment later the curtain was pulled back, Petra stood with the phone to her ear.

"I'll ask her now," her eyes shifted, "it's Fiona, she wants to know if you're still coming around for dinner tonight."

"I um, aye, tell her I'll be there."

"She'll be there," Petra stepped back, "oh, that sounds wonderful."

I cast a wary look at her as she started laughing.

"Have you tried reading the instructions?"

I was soaping my breasts, aware that Petra was now looking at me.

"Oh that's a shame, perhaps you could find it online or," she squinted at me, "I could come around for dinner as well and show you how to do it."

I reached for the shampoo as she straightened up and scratched her belly.

"I'll ask her," she stared at me, "do you mind if I come as well?"

"Sure," I shrugged.

"It's a date," she relayed the message to Fiona, "okay, we'll have to come around earlier if you want to do this, it takes a little bit longer... shall we say five?" She was looking straight at me and I threw my hands in the air.

"Oh five is good, she's fine. She's standing stark in the shower wondering if I'm getting all hot under the collar but that's our secret," she slid a hand down the front of her jeans and hung up.

"We've got a date tonight, she wants to make homemade pasta."

"Fiona making homemade pasta sounds ominous," I squeezed out a generous dollop of shampoo, "the last time she tried something different the meat was overcooked. She means well but she gets ahead of herself sometimes."

"So it's good I'm going then," she smirked, "I learned how to cook from mum," her hand shifted slightly and she smiled.

"What?" I looked at her.

"Now if I was a guy I'd have be rock hard," she stepped towards me and slipping her hand out of her jeans, held her hand up to my face.

"You have a hot body, I want to go riding today, all day."

I caught her scent and with a smile, left the room with a sense of déjà vu. Hadn't I been here more than once before with other women? One woman in particular came to mind, Mandy from Carlisle who went to the same university as me. I recalled a night I'd taken a shower at her student digs in Union Street, Stirling and having her walk in to do her makeup. We went out to the Fubar that night and by the end of the night we were snogging on her couch and my hand was halfway to paradise. It didn't come off that night but two days later she got me to help her move the couch and when I was making coffee later on she came up behind me and put her arms around my waist. We made love on the couch and that started a wild three month fling. For a curious straight she was certainly amorous and keen to get it on whenever we were alone. I actually told Petra a bit about her as we went saddled the horses later she seemed interested.

"So, how did you break up?"

"Ah, Mandy started getting more and more into sex in outdoor situations," I checked the cinch on Star, "I was okay with playing finger music on the train but she wanted sex in toilets, I did manage to talk her out of it but then she got together with Cathy and I breathed a sigh of relief."

"So outdoor sex is bad?"

"Not bad, just not my thing. I like to be comfortable," I frowned as she burst out laughing.


"Good to know," she moved around behind me and pulled out my hair clasp and let my hair fall free, "you should wear your hair down more often. You have a broad face, long hair hides it."

"There's something wrong with broad faces?"

"Nothing at all," she turned me around and flicked at it, "I really should help you find some nice clothes though. You're one of those women crying out for a celebrity makeover."

Her hands rested on my temples and then she leaned over and kissed my brow.

"And that's not a gay kiss," she stepped back and slapped my buttocks, "now, I want to go riding."

"All right," I came out of my reverie, "let's get into the saddle if you're ready."

"Oh, I'm ready for anything," she smiled slyly.

The ride took us on a wide circuit through the hills that skirted the McLeod house and brought us back to Burnside Estate. She managed well enough on Star but by the end of the ride she was looking a little weary.

"My calves are killing me," she rubbed her leg, "I kind of noticed it yesterday but now they're really sore."

"Deep Heat will help, I've got some inside."

"Thank you."

She was sitting on my bed when I stepped out of the bathroom with a half empty tube of Deep Heat and came to a dead halt. She'd dropped her jeans to her ankles and was sitting there wearing just her shirt, I pulled my eyes from her white panties.

"Here," I handed it to her.

"Can you put it on? I don't want to take a chance on accidentally rubbing my eyes, I wear contacts most of the time."

"Okay," I smiled bravely, "I hadn't noticed."

"It doesn't bother you, does it?"

"What? Wearing contacts or letting a lesbian rub your bare legs?" I knelt down and unscrewed the cap, "as long as you're okay with a lesbian rubbing your legs."

"Both," she replied as I dribbled the lotion onto her calf.

"I hadn't noticed the contacts," I started rubbing her leg, "but contacts don't bother me, as long as you're okay with me doing this."

"I'm fine with that," she fell back onto the bed and spread her legs, "just don't go above the knee," she giggled, "I would consider that a breach of contract."

"Far be it for me to risk that."

"It's a part of the acting world," she replied as I squeezed Deep Heat onto her other calf.

"We have to talk romantic and sexual scenes through with the director and the actor you're doing the scene with, I hate to burst your bubble but romantic scenes are anything but romantic."

"Tell me more," I started rubbing the lotion into her skin.

"You talk the scene over with the director and if you're uncomfortable doing something then now's the time to speak up or risk looking like an idiot," she propped on her elbows and looked down at me.

"And then your romantic interest has to talk the scene over with you. We have to go through a couple of rehearsals and iron out any details before we actually do the scene. More often than not we have to do several takes, sometimes with alterations and you've got to try and stay in the mood as they say."

"Sounds like a lot of work although the rehearsals might be fun."

"Oh it can be," she sat up as I finished rubbing her legs and reached for the cap. A moment later she put her hand on my shoulder and I looked up at her.

"You might have to put a hand on his shoulder and he might put his hand on your breast," she grabbed my hand and put it against her breast.

"I would say you can keep firm pressure but don't move your hand around it," she adjusted my grip slightly, "you can't rub my nipple under any circumstances," she fixed me with a steely look.

"And the kiss is timed, three heartbeats," she tapped her index finger against my cheek, "one, two three," she leaned forward, "eyes closed," I closed my eyes, "and kiss, don't stick your tongue in and just follow my moves."

She put her lips against mine and held them against me, her mouth moved ever so slightly as she tapped my cheek three times and then moved back and released me.

"We do that over and over until the director is happy and the actors are comfortable," she looked at my hand on her breast.

"Um, you can move your hand now."

"Fuck, sorry," I flinched and moved back, "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she ruffled my hair gently, "you're not an actress, I am and in spite of what you've just experienced a love scene is actually so fucking tedious it's insane."

She stood up and pulled her jeans up over her hips while I put the cap back on the tube.

"I couldn't do it, I'd be too into it," I rose a few moments later, "are any of your romantic interests hard to work with?"

"It depends on the scene, the actor and other things like outside pressures. I had this one scene with a guy where I had to straddle him and kiss him but he'd just had a vasectomy and every time I sat on him he'd be in pain. Eventually we shot the scene standing up because he was nearly in tears with the pain."

"Do you ever get involved with your screen lovers?"

"Just casually," she tucked her shirt in further, "but it depends on the chemistry. On screen chemistry doesn't apply off screen, you switch off and become your normal self but I've been tempted a few times to go further but it never pans out. The best actors are the older men because they're used to it and can crack a few jokes as well. One guy had me in stitches because he kept ad libbing and coming up with funny lines."

She cocked her head to one side and regarded me.

"What we did back there was a stage kiss, it wasn't the real thing, I hope you get that."

"I do," I wiped my hands on the back of my jeans, "I have to wash my hands now."

While I was washing my hands I found myself going over the last few minutes. It was a stage kiss and I did get it but there was still a lingering doubt in the back of my mind. Why had she done it just like that on the spur of the moment?

It was something that was uppermost in my mind a couple of hours later when I knocked on the front door of the McLeod house. She might be teasing me but I had the distinct impression that if I tried to go further she'd slap down before I knew what hit me.

The door opened and I ran my eyes over Petra. She was wearing an elegant white blouse that stopped at her cleavage, fastened with two faux pearl buttons, a single button at the top of the mandarin collar could also be fastened as well. White lace cascaded all the way down from the collar and there was also white lace at the ends of the half sleeves. The blouse was tucked into a black leather pencil skirt with decorative laces extending up the front, her hair was hanging loosely about her and she wore designer glasses. She lowered the glasses and squinted at my black shirt and black jeans.

"You're going out with me, dressed like that?"

"What's wrong?" I felt the colour in my cheeks as I flicked at my hair, "we're going to Fiona and Shannon's place, I've known them for years."

"Even so, you're going out with me and if I'm your date then we can't have you dressed like that."

"The dress perhaps?" I swallowed.

"Come with me," she held out her hand, "fortunately for you, mum had some wardrobe items brought over, I'm sure we'll find something in your size."

She led me inside and into a room with clothes racks taking up most of the room. I took a look around the room, there was barely any floor space left.

"You said she brought some clothes over, this is a shop."

"She hasn't chosen the outfits yet," she started leading me down past a rack, "and I know she just picked some because she likes them, but they're totally wrong for a period movie," she released my hand and took out a white pussybow blouse.

"This is nice."

It had white checked highlights arranged in diamond patterns, wide billowing sleeves and deep cuffs with four buttons. Okay, it was a beautiful blouse I frowned.

"It is beautiful but it has a tie, I don't like ties."

"But I do," she held it against me, "hmm, mm, I like that," she draped it over my arm and spinning around, marched down the aisle and up the next aisle.

"It's elegant," she stopped when she was opposite me and smiled, "well go on, get that shirt off."

"We shouldn't be doing this," I started undoing my shirt.

"Why?" Petra leaned on the rack.

"These are for the movie, what would your mother say?"

"She'd probably say go for it," Petra smiled and without moving her eyes from me, plucked a long three quarter length pleated skirt from the rail and draped it over the rail, "rules are made to be broken, it's why they're called rules."

"I thought it was because they weren't meant to be broken," I pulled the shirt out of my jeans to expose my bra and her eyes shifted.

"What? Wrong bra too?"

"It's okay but you really should go to Ann Summers, you've got lovely breasts," she stepped back and folded her arms, "you need to lift your babies more."

I draped my shirt over the rail and started putting on the blouse.

"It is beautiful."

"I know," she turned her back and moved away, down one aisle and then further down to a section that had accessories. By the time she returned I'd done the blouse up and was pulling on the skirt, thankfully it had a wide elastic waistband. Petra ran an eye over my outfit and wrapped a wide leather belt around me and fastened an ornate buckle in the shape of a seashell.

"Better," she undid the bow and retied it, "but you really need some practice with this," she finished and then took my hand, "come on, makeup call."

She led me through to a bathroom and I stared at myself in a large wearing that blouse and the skirt, and she snapped her fingers and pointed to a stool.

"Sit down, shut up and don't disturb me, I'm an artiste at work."

"You'll have to go some with me."

And yet despite my protests she did something to my face that I'd never seen before. I have a wide face and thin lips as I've already mentioned but she accentuated the bits I do like, my eyes and mouth. The end result eventually made me nod.

"All right, I do like nice."

"You look fuckable," she squeezed my shoulders, "now let's go out."

"The girls won't recognise me," I stood up.

We had a choice of cars that night, my Toyota or her red MG.

"We'll take your car," she told me, "if some nosey reporter sees my car outside their house they might start asking them questions."

"Something I'm always worried about," I sighed as I headed towards the car.

"Did I make you uncomfortable in there?" Petra asked me a few minutes later as I started the car.

"Slightly but you did make me look beautiful, I just hope the girls don't think we're dating."

"And that's a bad thing?" Petra pulled the seatbelt over herself.

"No and yes," I replied, "your mother and I made a deal about that."

"A deal," Petra froze, "what kind of deal?"

"About getting you ready for the role without it going all the way."

"She said that did she?" Petra stared at me, "huh?"

She snapped the belt closed.

"She has more balls than I thought."

"You're not going to say anything are you?"

"Me?" Petra patted her breast, "never."

She patted my leg.

"Now drive while I digest this information."

I felt a strange sense of foreboding as I drove to Fiona and Shannon's house but she said nothing on the way and when we parked out the front she eventually spoke.

"Between you and me, if something happens between you and I, it has nothing to do with her. I'm not saying it will but my love live is my affair," she rested her hand on my thigh.



When Fiona opened the door a minute later she didn't recognise me at first and then her mouth dropped as she made the connection.

"Lynne? Oh my God, you look so different."

"Thanks, I love you too," I rolled my eyes.

"You look absolutely fabulous, where did you get it? ASOS?"

"A wardrobe," I looked at Petra who had a sly smile on her face, "someone else's wardrobe."

"Wow," she noticed Petra, "hiya, come in. I've got everything ready. Shannon's gone out for some wine, she'll be back soon."

Fiona's house is on the corner of Castle Avenue and Endrick Drive, which ends just past her yard. She bought the place relatively cheaply from her mother who in turn picked it up dirt cheap in the late '90s when Thatcher's right to buy policy was turning the working class into property owners. Fiona's mum now lives in Spain with her new partner. The house is modest but if Fiona ever decides to sell she'll make a tidy profit.

She also loves Shannon, the two met when Shannon was doing her hair and Fiona casually outed herself. The story of their courtship still brings a lump to my throat because they're both very much in love with each other. Shannon has one daughter from her marriage, Saoirse, she's into her second year at high school. She was sitting in front of the television playing Halo and chatting with an online friend but acknowledged us with a wave and a cheery smile.

It was only when her mother returned with some groceries and actually mentioned that they had an actual film star in the house that she abandoned her game and came through to be formally introduced to Petra. By that time Petra had rolled another sheet of freshly made pasta. She did a double take at that and wanted to know if it was okay to take a selfie, Shannon opened her mouth to say no but Petra merely smiled.

"Of course."

The selfie taken care of it was back to making lasagne while I retired to the lounge with Saoirse to watch an episode of Casualty, she's quite into the show and has already stated that she wants to be a doctor like Fiona. She was eight years old when her mother moved in with Fiona and although she sees her father now and then the two aren't that close. Gavin works in Edinburgh and is too busy with his second family. She's quite close to Fiona and indeed it could be almost said she's the child of two mothers rather than a mum and a dad because she's taken on many of her second mum's character traits. Like Fiona she has a keen interest in all things medical and has scored higher in maths than Shannon did at her age, which doesn't come from her father because he works on building sites. She's also quite knowledgeable about the outside world and thanks to Fiona can speak Spanish better than her peers.

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