Sheila Richardson was busy at work in her little kitchen when she heard the front door to her house open. She didn't react in any way to the familiar sound of footsteps coming her way and only when she felt two arms snaking around her waist and her wife's warm body pressed against her back did she look up and smile.
"Hey honey," Miranda purred, giving her wife a peck on the cheek.
Sheila turned around in the embrace to kiss her wife properly. When they parted and let go of each other, Miranda sniffed theatrically.
"So, what's for dinner?"
"Potatoes, peas and pork chops."
"That kind of food again?" Miranda almost whined. "Can't we just order Chinese?"
"Sure. If you decide to also do all the cooking every day."
Miranda grinned. "OK, fine, I won't say no more. So how's about I take you to a Chinese restaurant on Saturday?"
Sheila smiled. "That would be very nice. So, how was your day?"
Miranda rolled her eyes. "Urgh, don't get me started. Two gangbangs and a bukkake scene. Honestly, the guy who brought Japanese porn over here should've been shot."
"Oh dear. Was it that bad?" Sheila said, not really hiding a smile.
"Look I don't mind some guy unloading on me. But I don't think that should be the entire point of sex, right? I mean, what am I? Some kind of canvas to be painted on with semen?"
Sheila quickly kissed her wife on the lips. "You're a very professional porn actress dear," she said. "And I'm sure you didn't actually complain when you were at work, right?"
"Of course not." Miranda grinned sheepishly. "Besides, after those gangbangs I was in a pretty good mood anyway."
"Glad to hear you're still enjoying your work. Anyway, dinner in five minutes, so could you go set the table?"
"Sure," said Miranda. "Uhm..."
"Uhm?" said Sheila.
"There's something you should know."
Sheila sighed. "Don't tell me you've taken your work home with you again."
"Not... exactly," said Miranda.
"Well what then?"
"Well, I've got this lesbian scene tomorrow, right, and this girl I'm having it with, she's... well..."
"Is she new or is she straight?"
"Both," said Miranda. "And come on, she was really frightened and uncomfortable and everything so I invited her over tonight to get to know each other. Put her at ease and stuff."
"Are you going to fuck her?" Sheila's voice could've frozen fire.
"I'm not planning to," said Miranda pleadingly.
Sheila's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't lie to me."
"OK, yes, I was planning to seduce her," Miranda admitted. "But it's for work."
Sheila closed her eyes. "OK. Fine," she said with some resignation in her voice. "But it had better be for work."
Now Miranda looked hurt. "Honey, you know I wouldn't cheat on you. I love you."
"I know, I know and I love you too," said Sheila. She smiled weakly. "But I suppose I've got some very strange ideas about monogamy. Come on, go set the table."
"So, we're fine?"
"As close to fine as we can get, considering you're going to have sex with another woman in our bed."
"OK," said Miranda. "Great."
It was roughly nine in the evening when Miranda's guest arrived. She was a black girl in her early twenties who looked nice enough, but whose entry into the porn industry had come from one big talent. Two big talents in fact, and Sheila (who was an expert even though she didn't really want to be) could tell they were natural.
"Hello Naomi," said Miranda, enveloping the girl in a hug.
"Uhm, hi," said Naomi, who obviously wasn't entirely comfortable with Miranda hugging her.
"I'd like you to meet my wife, Sheila," said Miranda.
"Hey," said Naomi, offering her hand.
"Nice to meet you," said Sheila, taking it.
"Miranda's told us all about you. She really adores you, you know. I mean, two days ago when this guy was fucking her up the ass she screamed your name at the critical moment."
"Did she now?" said Sheila with a smile that nevertheless had an edge to it.
"Yeah, the director was really pissed."
"I was caught up in the moment," Miranda mumbled.
"Yes, I can imagine it's hard not to think of me when you've got a dick up there."
Naomi looked from Sheila to Miranda and could tell there was something going on, although she couldn't quite figure out what.
"Well, let's not keeping standing around here," said Miranda. "This way to the living room. Naomi, would you like some wine?"
"No thanks. I don't drink," said Naomi.
"Well, I'm sure matters can be arranged."
Miranda and Naomi sat down on the couch, Miranda's whole body language screaming 'take me, I'm yours', while Naomi's yelled 'I'm not quite sure I'm fully comfortable sitting next to a woman screaming take me, I'm yours'. Sheila sat down at the kitchen table where she could see the two women, but where they couldn't see her. She watched the dance unfold and, in a way, it was quite a fascinating one. Sheila didn't believe in the concept 'fluid sexuality', but she did believe that nobody was 100% straight or 100% gay. And, somehow, Miranda had this amazing gift to find that 1% that wondered sometimes and to let itself be heard.
Naomi never stood a chance.
.... There is more of this story ...