DISCLAIMER: Guiding Light and its characters are the property of Proctor & Gamble. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Seduction
By Purplepapillon
"You've got to be kidding me." Doris took a long gulp of her Martini as she looked from one woman to the other in shocked disbelief. "You're practically related."
"Yep, practically," Dinah quipped, nodding in agreement and grinning as she trailed a well manicured fingernail across the mayor's collarbone, causing Doris to exhale just a little too quickly. "But we're not. That's the important bit."
"We know it's not exactly what you'd call normal," Blake added, grimacing slightly as she twisted her fingers together nervously and shifted her weight from foot to foot. "But this is Springfield."
"What she means to say," the slightly younger Marler elaborated, adopting a diplomatic expression, "is that we're fast running out of options." She paused and smiled indulgently as she turned to plant a soft kiss on the redhead's lips. "And I figured that the only way to stop Blake from stealing all the best men was to keep her for myself." She regarded the mayor calmly, her eyebrows slightly raised and her hands on her hips, as if she'd just imparted the most logical explanation in the world, while Doris blinked furiously, gazing at her drink and wondering whether it might have been spiked.
Blake at least had the decency to blush in response. And giggle. The woman was acting like a teenager, Doris thought, looking on in a mixture of horror and awe as Dinah nudged the smaller woman furiously, her lips repeatedly forming the command "ask her," while Blake glared defiantly in return. Finally seeming to give in to the other woman's demands, the redhead turned to Doris and cleared her throat. "Thing is," she murmured hesitantly, evidently slightly embarrassed by what she was about to say, "we've heard that you're some kind of lesbian yoda..."
"I'll kill you, Olivia Spencer," Doris muttered under her breath, coughing violently as her most recent mouthful of Martini threatened to reroute itself down her windpipe.
"... and we were hoping you could give us a few, um, pointers." Dinah smiled sweetly, waiting for Doris to compose herself before finishing her former step-mother's sentence. She trailed her left index figure seductively down the length of her body to accentuate her words, beginning between her breasts, passing across her well-toned stomach and finally ending somewhere just below her belt.
Entranced, Doris followed its progress, then, suddenly realising exactly where her eyes had come to rest, flushed and looked abruptly away. "What makes you think I'd know what to do?" she protested, figuring that she at least deserved a shot at denial.
Blake rolled her eyes. "Oh come off it Doris. I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching." She inclined her head to indicate her former step mother. "Her too for that matter."
The two Marlers shared a conspiratorial grin as Doris stared into her cocktail, desperately willing the ground to open up and swallow her whole
"There's no reason to be embarrassed," Dinah attempted to reassure the mayor, slipping gracefully onto the barstool directly behind her and gently massaging her shoulders. She leaned forward to whisper into the other woman's ear, causing the hairs on her neck to stand on end as her warm breath ghosted across them. "We enjoy it."
"Right." Doris stood up rapidly, nearly sending both her drink and the stool flying across the room in her haste. "It's been lovely, um, chatting to you ladies, but I really must go."
"Oh come on, Mayor Wolfe," Dinah purred seductively as she wrapped her bare arms around the retreating woman's waist. "At least join us for one drink."
Doris glanced desperately at Blake, hoping for an escape route, but the redhead merely shrugged helplessly and giggled yet again as she fixed the mayor with a pleading gaze. It was all Doris could do to keep herself from moaning out loud as, entirely against her better judgement, she found herself agreeing to the suggestion and being tugged from the room by two completely different, yet equally eager, pairs of hands.
The End