by MP Frank
“Come and sit down. I’ve made tea. Is that all right?” Gaëlle said, as she showed Gabi into her apartment a week later.
“I drink far too much coffee, so yes, tea is great.”
They chatted for half an hour, tentative conversation. Gaëlle attempted to appear cheerful, and Gabi was apparently endeavouring to be careful in her choice of subjects.
“I can see you looking around. Do you want to have the tour?” Gaëlle asked.
“I’d love to, but I didn’t dare to ask.”
“This is my bedroom,” Gaëlle said, opening the door.
“Wow, a whole wall of clothes cupboard!” Gabi exclaimed. “Fantastic! I’m envious!”
“I have far too many clothes, I know, but I haven’t got round to sorting them out yet,” Gaëlle told her, leading Gabi into the second bedroom.
“Another wardrobe, Gaëlle?” Gabi said, turning to her. “You can’t have enough clothes to fill two! May I look?”
Before Gaëlle could react, Gabi had opened the doors wide.
“Oh, it’s just…” Gaëlle started to try to explain. This wardrobe was where she had put away her sexy clothes. Some were decent, others were things she had only ever worn for special erotic occasions. She didn’t reach the end of her sentence, and wasn’t even sure of where it was going to finish, because, from the rail, Gabi had picked out and was admiring one of her minor erotic outing dresses, as Jérôme had called them. It was dark green silk, quite short and slightly transparent. Still, Gaëlle thought, Gabi might have chosen something even more overtly provocative.
“You never wore dresses like this at work,” Gabi said, looking hard at Gaëlle.
“Neither did you!” Gaëlle retorted. “It isn’t a work dress.”
“That’s the least you can say! You must look very sexy in it.”
“Yes, well…shall we finish our tea?”
Gabi’s visit ended with an agreement that they would meet again, a week later. It became a regular feature over the following months, and Gaëlle felt better for the relief of light conversation and gossip.
Gabi made herself comfortable on the sofa facing Gaëlle. They had finished their drinks, coffee this time, and were sitting in companionable silence. The sounds of the city drifted in through the open window.
“You know I said that we all looked up to you, Gaëlle?” Gabi began. “Well, there’s an extra reason for that in my case.”
“Oh yes?”
“Well… you remember I mentioned about how we chatted when I was just a beginner?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Look, to say what I’m going to tell you, I need to go back a bit. You know how people often play tricks on new staff? My dad was a mechanic, and they used to send apprentices to get a left-handed screwdriver and so on.”
Gaëlle smiled. “Like striped paint for trainee decorators?”
“Yes, that sort of thing. Well, it was the tradition when I started in my current job, four years ago, to load the new arrival’s desk with mail, as if that were the usual quantity. Most of it was junk, treatments for baldness and impotence, stuff like that. Porn magazines, too, of course, and sex catalogues, but with the real stuff hidden in among it. You had to sort it so you didn’t throw out some minister’s next speech! I’d been warned, so I went through it before I slung most of it straight in the bin, but in that process, on the front of one of the catalogues on my desk there was a photo of something that caught my eye. Can you guess what?”
She paused and looked across at Gaëlle. There was no response.
“It was the remote control for a wireless vibrating egg,” Gabi announced. “And I knew where I’d seen an identical one…that day, on the desk in your office!”
Gaëlle blushed.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Gabi went on. “That wasn’t a crumb you choked on, that was my oh-so-perfect, always in control boss, having a full-on, can’t-control-it orgasm!”
“Um.”
“And that made me admire you even more for your daring! Did you know the girls were all sure that you had a secret sex life? People who’d met your Jérôme said there was a twinkle about you both when you were seen together. There was no way you could be as asexual as you tried to appear, and we were convinced that you dressed so formally just to hide the fact that you had a sexy body! When I saw that remote control I knew we’d been right. The dress I saw in your wardrobe just confirmed it.”
“I was a lot younger then.”
“I’d gamble that if you put that dress on right now, it would still fit. Do I win?”
“I’m not as toned as I used to be, but I haven’t put on weight, so I suppose so.”
“So did you?”
“Did I what? Have an orgasm while you watched? Very well, then. Yes, I confess. I did. Happy now?”
“To an extent. And the secret life?”
“You’re being nosy, Gabi,” Gaëlle said, but had to smile.
“I was sure of it. Can I ask why?”
“Why what? Why I was playing with a vibrator in my office? Why I had an orgasm?”
“I’m not twenty any more, Gaëlle, and you know perfectly well what I mean. Why just then?”
Gaëlle sat back and thought for a moment.
“It was the day I first came into the office with my new haircut, which reminds me I still haven’t had it done, and it needs it.”
“Don’t try to change the subject!”
“I was feeling rather sexy that day. There was the new short hair, and I was wearing new earrings, too…”
“I remember those! They were beautiful!”
“A present from Jérôme, as was the vibrating egg. He’d hidden it in my bag, and when I found it, I couldn’t resist trying it out. We had a wonderful sex life in those days,” she said, deciding to be frank. “It didn’t usually overflow into my work life, but just that once it did.”
Gabi pouted.
“So it had nothing to do with me? There I was, flattering myself that I’d turned you on, and now you’re telling me it was a figment of my imagination.”
“It had a lot to do with you, Gabi. You’re a very attractive young woman now, and you were then, although in a different way. I was already turned on when you came in with my lunch, and I allowed myself to be tempted.”
“Tempted how?”
“To stimulate myself more and more, while you were there, to see if I could come, but still hide it from you. It would have been an abuse of my position to involve you more than I did.”
“But you still haven’t told me how I was involved! Are you teasing me?”
“Not at all. I was just going over that moment in my mind. As I said, you were attractive, sexy too, but not artfully.”
“I wasn’t all that innocent!”
Gaëlle laughed. “I was a very late starter myself,” she said. “I forget how precocious most young women are! But what I meant was that there was something appealing in the quality of your budding sexiness that was very exciting for me.”
“So it really was me, then? I’m glad I didn’t know at the time! I’d have run a mile! But I’m glad I know now. I had no idea that you were bisexual.”
“I don’t like labels. I don’t think they’re helpful. It just so happens that I find some women attractive, as well as some men.”
“I understand. Is it all right to ask if your husband knew?”
Gaëlle felt her heart lurch.
“It isn’t easy for me to talk about that, but yes, Jérôme knew. It was part of our sex life.”
“I’m regretting never having met him, more and more,” Gabi said. “I bet that he would have enjoyed that we’re talking together about him and about sex, though.”
Gaëlle nodded, then smiled. “Oh yes! He’d have appreciated it all right, for you and for me, as well as for himself. Would you like to see a photo of him?”
“I’d love to.”
Gaëlle stood and went into the bedroom. She had very few photos of Jérôme, preferring to keep the i
mages in her head. She dug out a close-up of him coming off the tennis court after a match. He was sweating and pink, and grinning.
“Here you are,” she said. “Disappointed? He isn’t…wasn’t a pinup.”
“You took this photo, didn’t you?”
“Yes, why?”
“Because I can see the love in his eyes. Such beautiful grey eyes!”
Gaëlle broke down. Gabi came to sit beside her, but Gaëlle waved her hand. “I’ll be all right in a moment,” she said. “But you’re so right. All his intelligence and caring and love is there in his eyes.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Gabi looked at the photo again.
“Not a lifeguard, agreed, but he was very fit. An attractive man.”
“I thought so.”
“Any woman with taste would think so,” Gabi retorted. “Just as anyone with taste would notice how attractive you are.”
“Not at this moment, though,” Gaëlle said. “I tell you what, give me a week for the hairdresser and some personal care, and I’ll take you out to lunch. You’ve made me feel more positive in a few short meetings than anybody but my closest friends. And they must be fed up with me by now.”
“I’m sure they’re not, or they wouldn’t be real friends. And I’ve a better idea. I’ll take you to lunch instead. I’ll come and collect you. I know the best Italian places. I’m even related to some of them.”
“Only if I can buy the wine. Is that a deal?”
“It’s a deal, once you tell me what excited you about me all those years ago.”
“You don’t give up, do you?” Gaëlle said. “Very well. As I said, I was turned on, and you were very pretty. You were sitting in my low chair and I was wondering what underwear you had on.”
“My knickers?”
“Yes. I was wondering what sort they were, what colour and so on. Don’t worry, it didn’t happen every day! Just that once. Anyway, as you were getting up, I saw them. Little red ones, and with thigh high stockings, too. I never wear tights, and I know how sexy stockings feel. Just the sight of that tipped me over the edge and I had to pretend I’d swallowed the wrong way. What was more, I knocked the remote onto the floor and when you picked it up, you turned it to full blast.”
“I did? That was a total accident.”
“The result was the same. All I wanted to do was to writhe on the floor and moan. I’ve never had to exercise so much self-control in my life.”
“I wish I’d known. But I’d have had to be older to appreciate it, so maybe it’s better I didn’t. Will you tell me some more about your sex life? If that was a minor incident, the rest must be fascinating.”
“Not just now, Gabi. Maybe some time in the future. But I make no promises.”
“I’ll keep asking, don’t worry! See you next Wednesday. I’ll pick you up at one. Just jeans and that sort of thing. Don’t dress up.”
With that final instruction, Gabi left.
Chapter Three
Gaëlle knew if she didn’t want to be shamed by how she looked when she went to lunch with Gabi, she would have to make an effort. She booked at her usual hairdresser’s.
“I want a massage, too,” she said.
“We have a new girl doing massage and beauty treatments. She’s very good, and she’s free just after your wash and cut, if you want.”
A little later, clearing the last bits of hair clipping from her shoulders, Gaëlle went through to the treatment rooms.
“It’s Gaëlle, isn’t it? How lovely to see you!”
Gaëlle looked more closely at the young woman and her heart sank. It was Isabelle, whom she knew from another salon, and who, in the past, had waxed her pubic hair and expressed admiration for the gold ring through Gaëlle’s clitoris hood. Fortunately, the beautician was too full of her new job, new boyfriend and impending holiday to pay attention to the fuzz on Gaëlle’s lower belly and the absence of the ring.
On the Wednesday, as instructed, Gaëlle was wearing jeans and a top, and waiting in front of her building for Gabi to arrive. The roar of the motorbike explained why she had been told not to dress up.
“Nice haircut!” Gabi shouted above the engine’s noise and waving a spare helmet around. “Almost a pity to squash it flat! I borrowed a leather jacket for you too,” she said, fishing it out from one of the panniers.
“Oh, goodie,” Gaëlle said ironically, as she climbed up behind Gabi. She felt very exposed, perched behind Gabi’s tiny body and looking over her head.
“Hold on tight, here we go!” Gabi announced. She dropped the clutch and the Guzzi tore off down the road, with Gaëlle hanging on for dear life. Twenty minutes later they roared into the car park of a pizzeria beside the Rhine. Gaëlle clambered off, legs trembling.
“How was that?” Gabi asked, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her long hair.
“In the moments when I wasn’t terrified, it was exciting. I think I can understand the appeal…but it still isn’t for me,” Gaëlle declared firmly, as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get some semblance of style back into it. She didn’t tell Gabi that the vibration of the motor through the inadequately padded pillion seat had given her some interesting sensations.
“At least you tried it. I knew you had courage,” Gabi said, giving Gaëlle’s arm a squeeze. “Come on, let’s eat and relax.”
After the meal they went for a stroll along the river bank. They walked along without speaking for a time. Gabi finally broke the silence. “We need to talk seriously, and since I can tell that you won’t, I’ll go first,” she began. “It’s like this. I enjoy being with you, Gaëlle. I also flatter myself that for you, my company is something different. I think you need that, and although I’m not seeing myself as a social worker, perhaps I’m good for you?”
“You are. I’ve been happier these past few weeks than…for a long time. Thank you, Gabi,” Gaëlle responded. “Your friendship is all the more valued for being unanticipated.”
“Thank you for the compliment. Now, the next thing.” Gabi went on, “Are you ready to have a more active social life yet?”
“I don’t know. I’m prepared to give it a try. What do you have in mind?”
“I belong to a ladies-only dining group, and I’d like you to be my guest next time round. Will you? There will only be me that you’ll know. It’s a fun girls’ night out. We eat and drink and gossip and do silly things.”
“Silly things?
“Oh, you know, challenges and forfeits, that sort of thing. Nothing serious, just fun.”
“I’m not sure. Am I fit for public consumption, do you think?”
“You are, or I wouldn’t have asked. And, as I said, I know you have courage.”
“If you’re certain I’ll be all right, then I’ll give it a go. What should I wear?
“It can’t be trousers, that’s one of the rules. Will you wear the green dress that I saw? I’d like that and it would be very suitable. Oh, and leave your mobile phone at home. They’re banned.”
Chapter Four
“Silky black knickers,” Gaëlle said, talking aloud as she laid out her clothes and prepared for the dinner. She had been so used to talking through what she would wear with Jérôme, that she did it automatically. “I’d forgotten how lovely they feel. The black ones, because Gabi thinks I’m sophisticated, even though she isn’t going to see them. Thigh-high stockings. Should I wear a bra? I’ve taken to that over the past few months, just because I never did, or only the special one. Make an effort, Gaëlle! No, no bra.”
She put on thigh-high stockings, which she’d bought specially. She hesitated for a long time, then finally plucked up enough courage to try on the green silk dress that Gabi had asked her to wear. One glance in the mirror told her she wasn’t ready for that, not yet, or at least, not without putting a slip on under it.
“I’m out of practice with dresses,” she told herself, as once she would have told Jérôme. “I hope it looks acceptable.” She examined her reflection again
in the big mirror. “Gosh, it’s short, isn’t it? It doesn’t feel right yet, to be sexy on my own, but I know you would have wanted me to try.”
She examined her face in the mirror as she added the finishing touches to her makeup. She had even decided to wear her contacts, leaving aside the glasses she had worn for the past few months. “Do I look presentable?” she asked her reflection. “I don’t know anymore. I just hope Gabi doesn’t turn up to collect me on the motorbike, with me dressed like this.”
Just then, a horn tooted downstairs. Gabi was waiting in a little sports car outside Gaëlle’s apartment building. She whistled as Gaëlle opened the car door.
“That’s a change,” she said appreciatively, “I shall enjoy watching you get into the car in that dress!” She pouted. “It would look even nicer without the slip under it, though.”
Gaëlle did her best to slide elegantly into the bucket seat. “I tried it and I felt too uncovered. I don’t look like mutton dressed as lamb, do I?” she asked.
“You look elegant as well as sexy. Without the glasses is an improvement, too.”
While Gaëlle’s hands were occupied in fastening her seat belt, Gabi casually reached across, lifted Gaëlle’s dress and peered under it.
“I spy thigh-highs,” she commented. “Who was it that said how sexy it feels to wear stockings? Could it have been Gaëlle? And black knickers, too. Very chic.”
Gaëlle was stunned.
“Just because I once saw your knickers doesn’t give you the right to examine mine in public,” she protested.
“Oh yes, it does! We’re even, now! Besides, there’s much more I intend to learn about your sex life,” Gabi said as she roared through the busy streets. “You’re hiding a lot, I’m sure.”