Lorna

Lorna

Thanks for sticking with me after my long absence from posting. This story involves a slow-burn seduction of a straight woman by a bisexual woman. It's sexual but also quite romantic I think - hence the category choice. All characters are over 18 and entirely fictional. As always, I'd love to get your comments and feedback either public or private. I do regularly check the email linked to this site.

*

Lorna Temple settled in to her business class seat for the overnight flight to Singapore, enroute to London. She felt quite at home in the familiar surroundings. It was a trip she'd made at least twice a year for the past four years and, as always, looked forward to the long comfortable flight and the delightfully rewarding fortnight she would enjoy at the end.

She was definitely on holidays now, but as the cabin crew moved about preparing for take-off, she couldn't help casting a professional eye over the women - mostly young - who would be serving her for the next eight hours. They were all quite attractive - as flight attendants usually were - but the one that really caught her eye was the one moving down the aisle delivering the complimentary champagne to the business class travellers. She, too, was quite beautiful but definitely not young: probably about her own age, Lorna thought, late 40s or early 50s.

"Would you like a glass of champagne, Mrs Temple?"

When the woman smiled at her and bent to offer her a glass, Lorna noticed her name was Beverly Brooks. Lorna returned the smile and thanked the woman, enjoying the faint scent of her perfume. The exchange was brief and polite before the attendant moved on with her tray.

But she'd definitely made an impression on Lorna. Beverly was beautifully turned out. Her make up was subtle but skilfully applied, her blonde/grey hair was pulled into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck and her uniform fitted her womanly figure perfectly. Beverly Brooks had the lovely, pronounced hips you'd expect to see on a woman her age and her breasts filled out the front of her blouse nicely. Probably a 36C or D mused Lorna. She had also noted the simple gold wedding band on Beverly's left hand.

But she soon put the woman out of her mind, and once the airliner was safely cruising at altitude, she slipped on her noise cancelling ear-buds swallowed a melatonin tablet, pushed her seat back into a flat-bed and settled down to sleep, with pleasant thoughts about what awaited her at the other end of her long journey.

As usual she'd slept through the night and was woken by a gentle shoulder touch and a warm smile from Beverly.

"Mrs Temple, we'll be landing in Singapore in an hour," she told Lorna. "You've missed breakfast but I can get you a snack if you like. Maybe some coffee or tea?"

"Oh, thank you so much," Lorna responded as she stretched and struggled to a sitting position. "Coffee would be lovely and perhaps a bit of fruit salad?"

"No problem," replied Beverly in her warm educated voice. "I'll be right back."

Lorna watched her walk away and felt a warm tingling in her tummy at the sight of Beverly's firm, skirt-clad bottom. Now, now - Lorna chided herself: the last thing these hard-working women need is passengers lusting after them. It might be a popular theme in erotic novels but she suspected the realities of working as a flight attendant generally precluded sexual dalliances with the passengers. Lorna smiled to herself: pity though.

Beverly soon returned with a small tray which she placed before Lorna.

"I must say, Mrs Temple," Lorna smiled. "You seem to have this international flying down to a fine art. Sleeping right through the night and waking refreshed and ready to tackle Singapore."

Lorna chuckled as she replied: "Oh, Beverly, I make this trip regularly and have the routine down pat. And Singapore is just a one-night stop-over to help limit the jet-lag when I get to London."

"So, it's a business trip?"

"No not at all," Lorna replied. "My son and daughter-in-law live there and I travel over twice a year to spend time with them and my only grandchild."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," Beverly beamed. "How old is he or she?"

"It's a she, Lola, and she's five years old now; starting school soon," Lorna explained and, in proud grandma fashion, quickly produced a phone picture of a smiling cutie.

"Oooh," Beverly enthused. "She's adorable. I've got two grandchildren myself but they're much younger: only two and six months."

"I'll bet they're adorable too," said Lorna. "Aren't grandchildren such a joy? So much easier to enjoy than raising your own!"

Beverly laughed: "Oh goodness yes, handing them back at the end of the day makes it so much more fun. Anyway, it's been lovely to meet you. Enjoy your stop-over."

"Thank you, Beverly, I'm sure I will."

*********

Lorna made it through the landing process with practiced ease. Her large bags were already booked through to London and she needed only her carry-on case for the one-night in Singapore. She had long ago exhausted the tourist highlights of the island nation and chose to stay at one of the airport hotels. She spent the day doing some duty-free shopping - indulging herself in buying far too many clothes for her granddaughter - then resting and reading in her room until dinner time.

At six, she showered and changed into a powder blue shift, brushed out her shoulder-length hair, applied some modest make-up and stepped into a pair of white four-inch heels. Not that she had any real plans for the night, just a few drinks in the hotel bar before dinner in the adjacent bistro, but it was part of her professional routine to always look presentable and she felt no different on holiday.

She liked the cocktail bar in that hotel. The furnishings were elegant, the lighting muted and the music unobtrusive. And they made a very reliable vodka martini. She was seated at the bar enjoying her second drink when she heard:

"Well, hello there!"

She turned on her stool to see Beverly Brooks smiling at her and Lorna felt her stomach give a small involuntary flip. Beverly looked lovely, with her hair still in a bun but with a touch more makeup and wearing a light floral sundress with thin shoulder straps and which was tucked in at the waist to accentuate to her generous bosom. The outfit - very appropriate for Singapore's humid heat - was finished with a pair of white low-healed sandals.

"Oh, hello - um Beverly isn't it?" answered Lorna, and unthinkingly offered her hand as though to a new client. Beverly did not seem fazed by this and warmly shook Lorna's hand in both of hers. The touch sparked another small flip in Lorna's stomach. But Lorna tried to ignore that and asked: "Are you staying in this hotel too?"

"Yes," replied Beverly. "This is the airline's preferred hotel for staff." She leaned in and said in a conspiratorial murmur: "No doubt they get a huge discount for the regular custom."

"No doubt!" agreed Lorna.

"Have you had a nice day?" asked Beverly.

"Oh yes, quite good; shopping mostly. And you?"

"About usual," smiled Beverly. "Shopping, too, of course. We know all the best places on the island to stock up on make-up and other stuff. Most of girls are going out for dinner and drinks - but I rarely do that these days. I just like to chill here at the hotel."

Lorna smiled: "Yes - I rarely go out on these stopovers. But will you join me for a drink?" She gestured to the empty stool beside hers. "Or is fraternising with the customers frowned upon?"

Beverly gave a brief laugh: "On-board, yes: when it comes to the paying passengers we have to keep it 'friendly but not personal'" She emphasised this with some air quotation marks. "But right now I'd enjoy nothing more than sitting here to rest my tired feet and enjoying a tall glass of chilled pinot noir."

Lorna was pleased and slightly thrilled at the prospect of enjoying a little more time with this beautiful woman. She ordered the wine and insisted on putting it on her room tab.

"Well, thank you Mrs Temple," Beverly said and raised the glass to clink it against Lorna's. Lorna was pleased that Beverly had remembered her name but said quickly:

"Oh please, it's Lorna, not Mrs Temple."

"Okay, then thank you Lorna!" Beverly grinned, showing even white teeth and attractive smile-lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes. Lorna again felt a small sexual rush as their eyes met.

They chatted over their drinks, Beverly recounting her long career as a flight attendant, broken only by her years of child-rearing, and Lorna spoke of her fairly mundane work as a call-centre supervisor. This revelation brought a quizzical look to Beverly's face but she said nothing. After a second glass for Beverly and third for Lorna they agreed to share a meal in the hotel bistro.

And so it was that two hours later they were lingering over a digestive glass of port, feeling quite mellow and entirely comfortable with one another. They had dissected their respective families - commiserating on Lorna's long-ago divorce and Beverly's comfortable but routine marriage - and were enjoying a moment of companionable silence when Beverly cleared her throat and rather sheepishly said:

"Lorna, can I ask you a very personal question - and please don't feel obliged to answer..."

Lorna smiled at her, sensing what might be coming. "Of course you can," she replied.

"Well," began Beverly, edging into a question she was clearly embarrassed about asking. "It's just that - with the greatest respect for you work - I can't imagine that a call-centre supervisor gets paid a hell of a lot? So, I'm left wondering - as a single woman - how you can afford to fly business class to London twice a year and stay in upmarket hotels like this one." Lorna smiled and opened her mouth to speak but Beverly cut her off. "Oh God, don't even answer that. I'm sorry I've just heard what I've said and it's too rude and personal - I'm blaming the booze - so please just forget it." She looked quite abashed but Lorna just smiled and reached across the table to take one of Beverly's hands in hers, giving it a warm squeeze and reassuring her:

"Oh lord Beverly, don't worry about it. In your place I'd be just as curious. And the truth is that you're right: I could never afford to make these trips on my public service salary alone. In fact, I pay for all this..." she waved a hand around in a gesture covering the flights, the hotels, the meals, the drinks. "... with the proceeds of my second job."

"Oh," said Beverly, somewhat surprised, and still holding on to Lorna's hand. "Then it must be a lucrative side-hustle!"

This made Lorna laugh out loud. "Well yes. It is in fact."

Now Beverly was quite intrigued and squeezed Lorna's hand as she asked: "Tell me to just fuck off if you like but may I ask what it is you do to earn that much extra cash?"

Lorna knew it was probably the drink talking but the crude expression coming from this elegant woman sent a tingle to her pussy. She withdrew her hand and looked down at her plate, considering for a moment, before deciding to be honest with Beverly. She raised her eyes to her beautiful companion and said simply:

"I'm a sex worker." The reaction from across the table was pretty much what Lorna expected. Beverly's jaw literally dropped and her beautiful blue eyes widened in surprise. "I've shocked you, haven't I?"

Beverly recovered quickly but still stammered over her response: "Holy shit..." she breathed then quickly apologised. "Oh sorry! Um no - no you haven't shocked me but you've certainly surprised me. I mean you don't... um that is..."

Lorna couldn't help laughing at Beverly's response: "What? I don't look like a sex worker?" she mock scowled at her companion. "Do you think a middle-aged, frumpy grandma like me couldn't possibly be in that line if work?"

Beverly blushed deeply but then saw the twinkle in Lorna's eye and gave a relieved smile.

"I'm sorry," she chuckled. "It's just the last thing I expected to hear. I guess I was expecting to hear you host Tupperware parties or sell cosmetics or something. And, clearly, I must have a pre-conceived and very narrow idea of what a "sex worker" should look like..."

"You mean a scrawny girl with fake boobs, covered in tattoos and track marks?"

"Oh God," Beverly sighed, looking down and briefly burying her face in her hands. "Oh Lorna, please do forgive me. You're probably the nicest person I've ever met on a flight and now I've offended you."

But Lorna merely laughed in sympathy at Beverly's discomfort. "Nonsense, it's exactly the reaction I would have had myself a few years ago. There's no need to apologise. I blame the drinks for being mischievous in dumping it on you like that."

"Well, thank you for understanding," Beverly breathed in relief. "And by the way: 'frumpy'? You? That's the last word I'd use to describe you. In fact, you are quite beautiful and just so elegant in the way you look and dress - and that's partly why I was so surprised when you told me what you do. And, oh shit! I even described it as a 'side hustle'. I'm such an idiot."

Lorna chuckled and reached across the table again, this time capturing both of Beverly's hands in her own. "Don't worry about it. I'm certainly not offended. In fact, I rather enjoyed telling you. It's the sort of thing you can only admit to a stranger or..." she paused looking into Beverly's eyes and raising an eyebrow. "...a client."

Beverly's jaw dropped again and her blush deepened. But she realised Lorna was teasing her again and merely smirked at her new friend and gave her hands a return squeeze before releasing them.

She smiled warmly in replying: "Well, I'd say your clients are very lucky to have you. But, my God, you've really piqued my curiosity!"

"Oh, yes?"

"Well sure, I mean... how... why... when... you know? It's not what one thinks of in terms of a second job!"

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Lorna replied earnestly. "Since the decriminalisation of the sex work industry quite a lot of women have taken it up for economic reasons."

"But - being far too nosey again - why do you do it? You have a full-time job, don't you?"

"Do you really want to know?" Lorna asked.

"Yes, I do - if you're willing to tell me - but it's really none of my business."

And for the next fifteen minutes, over a second glass of port, Lorna explained how and why she'd become a woman paid to have sex.

She explained that her only son was the joyful light of her life. As a single parent she'd struggled to keep him in the best schools and still somehow manage to feed them and pay the mortgage. Her own life was really put on hold as she poured all her energy into raising her son and giving him a secure home. And she was rewarded for her efforts. Her son really did appreciate how lucky he was, never caused her a moment's worry and excelled at his studies. Together they struggled through his medical degree at Sydney University but the financial crunch really came when he was offered his dream placement: an opportunity to study ophthalmic surgery at Moorfields Eye Hospital in London. By then he was married to a fellow medical student, Genevieve, who also supported his professional dream. Lorna used what savings she had to get them set up in London but when that money was exhausted she had to cast about for a solution to supplementing their living costs in one of the world's most expensive cities. Things became even more desperate when Genevieve became unexpectedly pregnant.

Lorna began to look for more work but trying to fit in a second job around her first proved difficult. It was a long-time girlfriend who suggested the sex work - a job that potentially paid well and could be done after hours - and who offered to put Lorna in touch with the escort service she herself used on occasion. At first Lorna rejected the idea out of hand. She couldn't believe anybody would pay to have sex with her; and the idea of putting herself in danger with strange men was too scary. She had no moral objection to the idea but was appalled to think of what her family and friends would say about her doing that kind of work.

However, she was eventually convinced to talk to Valerie, the woman who ran the escort service. After all, there could be no harm in just talking, could there?

She was surprised when Valerie turned out to be a woman much like herself: conservative looking, middle-aged, educated and not in the least slutty or cheap. They met on neutral ground over coffee. Valerie listened patiently to Lorna's financial predicament and her misgivings about the work, and then wasted no time in telling Lorna that she could certainly use someone like her; in fact, Lorna was exactly the type of woman her escort service needed.

Lorna remained sceptical until Valerie said: "Of course you'd have to be comfortable with the idea of servicing women, too."

"Women?!" Lorna asked in surprise.

"Oh yes," Valerie assured her. "I have quite a few female clients who want the company of mature, elegant women just like you. Some of them younger who like older women - and some even older than you looking for someone younger, but not too young. Is that something you think you could do?"

Lorna was stunned - yet totally intrigued. She had dated both men and women during her high school and university years but had been exclusively straight since her marriage - and even after her divorce. But as memories of those young days flooded her mind, she felt a quickening in her stomach she hadn't felt in ages. Lorna was suddenly much more interested. "Um - and how much exactly could I earn, do you think?" She cautiously asked Valerie.

The woman smiled at her over her coffee cup: "How much do you need?"

Lorna shrugged. "Probably far more than you could pay. I've worked out I'd need about a thousand dollars a week just to supplement my son's rent in London. At the moment he's commuting two hours each way to live where there's cheaper rent and that's just not sustainable when he's working so hard. If I could give them the equivalent of five hundred British pounds a week they could live within easy travel of the hospital."

Valerie smiled again and said: "Oh, a thousand a week should be no problem with my client list."

Lorna gaped at her and when she was reassured that she could make at least that much Lorna was almost ready to sign on the dotted line. But it was several more weeks of anguished indecision and two more meetings with Valerie before she agreed to a trial.

"And that," Lorna said to a rapt Beverly. "Is how I came to be a sex worker."

Beverley had been leaning forward over the table hanging on every word of Lorna's story. And now she slumped back in her seat and just shook her head.

"Well, all I can say is you must be the best mother in the world. But my God, now I've got a million more questions!"

"Ask away," Lorna replied. She was enjoying this. Both women were decidedly tipsy. Beverly's obvious interest was turning Lorna on and she took a small amount of sexual pleasure in just talking about her work.

"So, the money did turn out to be enough?"

"Oh yes. I set myself a target of fifty thousand dollars a year and for the past couple of years I've made more than double that." She smirked in a self-satisfied way. "I can send half to my son and his wife - who now live in a flash apartment at Canary Wharf - and the rest I use to visit as often as I can."

"Does your son know where the money comes from?"

"Good lord no! I tell him I'm drawing down early on my superannuation and the rest comes from the sale of my mother's house. The latter is partly true but I haven't needed to touch my super."

"Fascinating!" said Beverly. "So can I ask... um... well, how much you actually charge?"

"Sure," smiled Lorna. "It's five hundred dollars for up to two hours; a thousand for longer; and two thousand for an overnight."