Originally Posted by
Euryleia
After sinking the eight ball in the corner pocket, I let my maple cue slide through my fingers. Tapping the base on the toe of my Doc Martens, I grinned across the green felt and waited to see what my opponent would do. This was her second loss and we were playing double or nothing.
“You’re too fucking hot tonight, Rain.” Jean tossed another pair of bills onto the table. Stepping back, she put her cue away in the rack. “If only it were true that the angle of incidence is exactly equivalent to the angle of reflection.”
Jean taught physics at the Catholic high school ((and) replace this one with a comma) wore thick glasses and kept her hair pinned back in a French braid. Usually a tough competitor, she brought science to the game and sucked most of the fun out it. I guess that was why I enjoyed beating her so much.
“There is no such thing as too hot. Trust me on this.” I picked up my winnings and looked around the alcove, seeing if there was another willing mark. All I got in answer were headshakes(two words).
That was the problem with only having the one bar in town. You knew everyone and they knew you, too. I was about to offer to play for a round of beer instead of cash, when a wondrous sight distracted me.
“Oh, fuck me.”
I didn’t say it but I sure thought it. Damn, that woman was fine and, as she walked in and out of the spotlights to the table farthest from the door, her ample assets were lit up like masterpieces in a museum. The sheer blouse she was wearing was anything but concealing.
“Can you believe that prick? Letting his girl out in public dressed like that?” Michelle groused. She was an old school butch who wished that wearing a hijab would come into style.
“He’s just trying to tease the animals,” Tee answered, as she ran a hand through her graying hair. She smoothed the front of her flannel shirt and adjusted her jeans.
Most of the dykes in the place were doing the same casual primping. It wasn’t that often that we got a couple here to walk on the wild side and no-one was looking to miss their chance at living the legend.
“Does he really think we’re going to fall for that?” Michelle groused. She looked around and saw that several of us were already starting to drift over to the bar. “Come on, guys,” she plead. “Surely, you don’t want to be used.”
“Don’t call me Shirley,” Tee mock growled (mock-growled or growled in a mocking manner, or maybe just growled).
Carla drained her beer, belched and said, “If being used means that I get a taste of that ass, then sign me up.”
“Sorry, Michelle, but I’m with them.” I shrugged at Michelle’s disappointed look. “She’s too hot to stand on principle.”
I walked over and stood near the brass bars where Alice was waiting to place the drink orders. She was looking good in her leather vest and mini skirt. Hoping to get an idea of what sort of people they were, I asked her, “What did they want?”
“Big man ordered two drafts.”
The bartender wandered over. Spike trailed her rag across the aged mahogany bar top. “So what did you say was my specialty this time?”
“Cosmo.” Alice winked. “Don’t make me a liar.”
“At least is wasn’t a Fancy Nancy this time.” Spike’s usually stern demeanor softened when she looked at her lover. She still had the bearing of the retired drill instructor that she was, though. Even after ten years out, she kept her bleached blonde hair in a high and tight crew cut.
“I thought about it but he doesn’t look like he has a sense humor.” Alice glanced over her shoulder. “She seems almost too nice to be a playing this game.”
“It takes all kinds.” Spike set the drinks on the tray and waved Alice off.
As Alice carried them across the bar, Spike reached up to the shelf with the high-end bottles and took down a caballito glass full of tall toothpicks. She looked around the bar. “Who’s in?”
There were nine of us who stepped up. Spike pulled out eight toothpicks and then broke the ninth in half. “Loser is the one who draws the short straw. She has to separate the lady from the prick. After that, it’s up to each of you to charm your way into her pants.” She glared at all of us. “No fighting. Remember that the gals here with you will be around much longer than she will.”
She waited until we all nodded and then held up the straws. “Come on, step up and pick.”
Tee was the oldest of the bunch and it was fitting that she pulled the short straw. Huffing angrily, she put it in her mouth and stomped over to the table, still chewing on it. We all watched her from across the room and cheered quietly when she returned to the bar with the looker in tow.
“Everyone, this is Brenda.”
We answered in a chorus, reminding me of my catholic school days.
Tee started us off with the first question. “Well? See anything you’re interested in?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, twisting the hem of her skirt in her fingers.
I could see that she was nervous about being put on the spot like that. Taking the initiative, I stepped up next to her and introduced the contenders. She seemed to relax a little as each of the women turned on the charm. Being the center of attention was obviously a new thing for her and she wasn’t quite sure how to enjoy it.
“Do you have an idea of what you want?” Carla asked. “Tall, short, thin, butch, femme?”
Brenda blushed and whispered, “I don’t even know what that means.”
Grabbing Alice by the arm, Carla pulled her to stand next to Tee. “Okay, see the differences? Skirt verses jeans, long fingernails verses blunt. Long, styled hair verses short. One’s femme, one’s butch.”
“It isn’t that simple, Carla,” argued Michelle.
Before she could go off on a rant about the butch-femme continuum, the rest of the group elbowed her back. She didn’t draw a straw and we weren’t going to have her blow our chances because she bored Brenda to tears.
Our roughhousing at least brought a smile to Brenda’s face. Softly, she said, “I guess I sort of want a change.”
We turned and studied the man who had brought her, silently judging ourselves against his frat boy looks.
“I can see why you might need something different. He looks like the quite the piece of work,” Tee said.
Brenda shook her head. “Nothing against, Taylor. He’s a real man.”
“What does that mean?”
“He takes care of me so I don’t have to work.” She laughed. “I don’t know. He’s got hair on his chest.”
“Sister, so does Lassie.”
“Damn, Carla, that’s cold.”
Everyone laughed out loud and Brenda blushed again.
I just loved how easily her skin pinkened. It made me wonder how she would color when she experienced a mind-blowing orgasm.
Brenda had just that right touch of innocence that made me ache to be the one to show her the way. Leaning close to her, I spoke softly in her ear about the affirmatives of each of the other contenders. I even had her reach out and compare the size of Tee and Carla’s biceps.
A firm believer in the benefits of waging a positive campaign, my compliments created a definite energy around us. Being secure enough to say nice things about others did more than just kindly dispose her toward me. It was obvious that with every compliment, she was becoming more physically aware and intrigued by me.
Cutting her from the herd couldn’t have been easier. It was just a bonus that by praising my competitors that I left them at the bar with no hard feelings.
Walking across the room, with her hand on my arm, I felt on top of the world. I hardly minded that her husband’s eyes were glued to my chest. Sure, I might not be the most well endowed woman in the room but I sure knew how to use what I had.
I held out the chair for Brenda and waited for her to sit before I dropped into the empty seat beside her. Focusing on Taylor, I could see that he was trying to make the best of a bad situation. It was important for me to put all the cards on the table. I leaned across the table and stated in no uncertain words, “I don’t do men.”
He got all hyper-masculine and did everything but thump his chest and shout, “Me Tarzan. She Jane.” Boy, was he shocked when Brenda put him in his place.
It didn’t take us long to hammer out the details. Like most men, he thought two women going at it was sexy. He also labored under the misapprehension that those same women would welcome him into their lovemaking. I could tell from Brenda’s demeanor that he hadn’t shared his desire to join the festivities. She thought this was all for her.
Rather than lose out entirely on his dream, he quickly assented to my terms. He thought he had gained the upper hand by telling me that I couldn’t fuck her. Right, like the soft pack in my jeans was what I needed to pleasure a woman.
I was only too willing to agree not to use any toys, this time at least. Giving him a smug grin, I told him not to worry. “I’m going to make sweet, sweet love to this beautiful woman.”
Lifting Brenda’s hand to my lips, I treated her like a princess and kissed her knuckles. Turning her hand over, I placed a couple of open mouth kisses on her palm and blew across the saliva-dampened skin.
I glanced up to see Taylor glaring at me. Pleased that I managed to put him in a snit so quickly, I said, “I’ve always been a fan of the Star Trek philosophy of lesbianism.” I stared deep into Brenda’s eyes and lowered my voice to a husky timbre. “It’s my mission to explore strange, new bodies. To seek out new pleasure and new experiences. To boldly go where no woman has gone before.”
Brenda laughed with me but I could tell she was pretty scared. Her blue eyes were large and her palm was slick with sweat. I knew that despite her outward calm, she was not one hundred percent behind the night’s plan.
I wanted to change that and make her a full party to her seduction. Knowing that I needed to relax her, I cocked my head as the DJ put on some swing music. Smiling, I tugged on her hand. “Come dance with me,” I begged.
As his wife stood up, Taylor looked like he had sucked on a lemon. Glancing at his watch, he whined, “Brenda, honey.”
“Don’t sweat it, hero. We’re just going to be over there. You will be able to keep your eyes on us.”
Without a backwards glance, I led Brenda out onto the floor. She was a little stiff, so I took both her hands in mine. Moving my hips and feet, I let the music fill me. Gently, slowly, I pulled her closer to me.
“Surrender to the beat,” I murmured. Resting my palms on her hips, I hooked my fingers and thumb into the waistband of her skirt. Rubbing my body against hers, I growled into her ear, “Dancing is just sex standing up.”
Glancing around, I saw that a number of women had joined us on the dance floor. There were enough bodies to screen us from the table holding her husband. I decided it was time to get a little dirtier in our dancing.
Twirling her out, I reeled her back into my arms with her back against my front. My hands held her arms across her body. It might have been my imagination but I think I felt a new compliance to her body as I loosely restrained her.
Grinding my pelvis against her ass, I worked us in a tight little circle until we were facing the back wall. The mirrored surface reflected our bodies in close embrace. She couldn’t take her eyes off us.
Nibbling on her ear, I pulled her left hand down her body. Stopping just above her mound, I used my fingers to walk her skirt up. She gasped and tensed up but did not try to stop me.
Lacing our fingers together, we stroked the crotch of her thong. The silk was quickly made slick with her natural lubrication. Soon, her fingers were eagerly rubbing and I was forced to slow her down.
Brenda moaned and wiggled her hips as she tried to get more pressure on her clit.
Licking the delicate shell of her ear, I murmured, “You’re so beautiful. I can hardly wait until I can see the rest of you.”
When her eyes fluttered closed, I squeezed her hand in mine. “No, I want you to watch. Look at how responsive you are.”
Her pupils were enlarged from her arousal and there was just a thin rim of blue left. Keeping our left hands teasing her clit, I laced our right fingers together. Moving her other hand, I made her touch her breasts. Almost immediately, her nipples became hard little points tenting her blouse. As I felt her shiver, I spun her around to face me and winked at the DJ over her shoulder.
Sonja was famous for her remixes and her ability to read the mood of a club. She gave me a thumbs up and transitioned to her second deck. A slow song came on and I smiled in pleasure.
Focusing back on my dance partner, I grabbed a handful of Brenda’s hair and tugged her head back. Biting her neck near her jaw caused her to moan. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” I whispered.
Brenda whimpered in response.
We were moving pretty well together. Sliding my hands down her body, I cupped her ass. Pulling her hard against my thigh, I helped her thrust with the beat.
The roughness of my jeans on her sensitive skin and the pure naughtiness of it all soon had her arching into me as she enjoyed a quick orgasm. Dropping her head, she bit my collarbone to stifle her cries. She sagged a little as she came down from her climax and I enjoyed the weight of her in my arms.
I kissed her temple and put my lips against the shell of her ear. Whispering, I said, “Next time, I want you to come in my mouth.”
Her legs buckled. I was glad that Sonja kept the music slow until Brenda had regained some of her composure and could stand on her own again.
“You come beautifully,” I said.
Flushed, she looked guiltily over toward her husband and saw that he was entranced by the floorshow being put on for him. I could see her eyes flash with hurt and the look she turned on me was anything but remorseful.
“You want to go and freshen up?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I followed her into the restroom and snagged a dental dam out of the jar by the sinks.
“No, use the last one,” I told her as she paused at the first stall.
Quizzically, Brenda glanced back over her shoulder at me. With a shrug, she continued into the handicapped stall. She tried to close the door and started when I pushed against it and joined her inside.
Latching the door behind me, I leaned back and crossed my ankles. I gave her a half smile and rolled my hand. “Go on,” I said. “Go ahead and do your business.”
Brenda hesitated. I watched her think about what she was about to do and could see the exact moment when she decided to go with the flow. She wiggled her thong down around her ankles and perched on the toilet.
I kept my eyes on hers. After a moment, she dropped her gaze to the floor and then I heard her peeing. She blushed very prettily at the sound of her urine tinkling into the bowl.
“Stop,” I said as she reached out for the toilet paper.
I knelt down and pulled off several sheets from the dispenser. “Grab a hold of the bars.”
Brenda hesitated for a moment before she obeyed. I pursed my lips and blew a stream of air across her pussy. She started to close her legs but she stopped when I raised a single eyebrow.
Lightly patting her dry, I dropped the dampened papers into the bowl. Taking her panties off the rest of the way, I slid them into my pocket. I pulled her hips forward so that she was balanced on just the edge of the seat. Tearing open the dam package with my teeth, I spread the latex over her pussy.
As much as I love the taste of a woman, I wasn’t going to risk getting a cream pie. Taylor seemed like just the sort that would have marked his territory before coming out to the bar.
Resting her legs on my shoulders, I held the dam in place with one hand under her ass and the other on her belly. I bent my head and gave her clit the gentle attention that it deserved.
Her thighs tightened around my ears and, this time, she couldn’t contain her shout as the pleasure rose and crested. Starring up into her eyes, I could see from her dazed expression that she just learned that she was multi-orgasmic. I could hardly wait to see how many more she had in her.
Snagging a few more dams and some finger cots on my way out of the restroom, I trailed Brenda back across the bar. She was halfway to the table when I saw Taylor look at me. Making a big production of slapping the dust off my knees, I had to laugh at the gob smacked look on his face.
He was sputtering at her when I joined them. “So, are we going to do this thing?” I asked.
To no-one’s surprise, Brenda blushed again.
“I’ve reserved a room at the Sheraton on Canal Street.”
Nodding at the choice of location, I took off my leather jacket and held it for Brenda to put on.
“It’s not that cold,” Taylor said, with a sneer.
“It will be when she’s on the back of my bike.”
“What?”
“She’ll be riding with me.”
“No way.”
“Why don’t we ask her?” I turned to Brenda. “I’m a safe driver and it is a lovely night to go for a ride.” Lowering my voice, I assured her, “Don’t worry, for the rest of the evening, I’ll be taking things slow.”
Brenda dropped her eyes and began nervously twisting the hem of her skirt.
“Well?” Taylor demanded.
“I want to go with her.” Her voice was soft and just hearing it made me get wet.
I didn’t even bother to wipe the smirk off my face as I took a hold of Brenda’s hand. Leading the way outside, I gave Doris twenty bucks for watching my Kawasaki Vulcan 500. No one would dare touch it with a woman of her size standing guard.
Handing Brenda a helmet, I laughed at the look of distaste on her face. “Hey, your hair is going to get mussed up when we get where we’re going.” I winked at her flush and kissed her lips for the first time.
Her eyes were glazed by the time I pulled back and she wordlessly pulled the helmet on. I threw my leg over the bike and braced it while she climbed onto the bitch seat.
Backing the cycle onto the street, I looked up and saw Taylor getting into a little sports car. American made no less. It was going to be no problem for my Japanese cruiser to keep up with him as we drove to the hotel.
After a couple of blocks we stopped at a red light and I saw Taylor staring into the rearview mirror at us. I flipped up my visor and raced the throttle. Behind me, I could feel Brenda tilt her pelvis to better feel the vibrations.
Her arms tightened across my waist and her body pressed even closer to mine. My eyes closed in reaction. In front of me, Taylor’s foot must have slipped off the clutch because his car lurched forward and died.
Opening my eyes, I winked at Taylor. I could hardly wait to see how the rest of evening was going to shape up.
