Red wine, crimson lips

[lucy]

me too
not patiently, tho

[MissConfused]

I noticed as I walk into the bar there are a group of men, boys actually, swarming around a lady in red at the bar. It is not hard to notice the anger in her eyes. It is quite clear she is not here to meet a stranger.
I notice when there is not anger there is pain in her eyes. Why do beautiful people come to a bar, a public place, to find solace in alcohol. A normal looking person will purchase a bottle and take it to their apartment to suffer in silence. Beautiful people must show their pain in public.
As I stare into her eyes I notice something else; there is a glimpse of fear and desire.
I sit several stools away from her at the bar to observe her. Her red dress flatters her figure. She has a long arching back that glides into a beautiful round bottom. Below her short red skirt I notice a pair of long beautiful legs stretching into a beautiful pair of black heels. Her breasts are small but round and firm. Her face is sculpted as if she were a model for a cosmetic firm.
I know she is not my type of woman but something about her intrigues me. I am a powerful mistress so I know no fear. I pick up my drink and move onto the stool next to her. I must meet her.

[lucy]

Damn, why did i come here? I should just have gone home after work, get me a bottle of Chianti on the way. And why did have to go to this meeting today, having to dress up for the occasion? I feel so out of place in my skirt and the top. I feel like everybody is staring at me.

And why does she stare at me? There's plenty of guys here, and she could have them all with a snap of her fingers. Maybe she's a lesbian, but i'm not eager to be hit upon by a lesbian. Although i must admit she's a very beautiful woman. About my height, maybe a little taller, a couple of kilos heavier. And i guess she's going to the gym regularly, at least she looks like it. The chestnut locks falling to her shoulder match her green eyes and her pale complexion.
The deux pièces and the pumps, along with the rather conservative stockings lead me to the conclusion that she's probably working in one of the nearby banks. Maybe middle management in private banking?
What i notice most, tho, is that air of confidence around her. She seems to be fully aware of the looks following her, as if she's basking in the attention, expecting it even.

When she gets up from her stool and moves over to the seat next to mine i decide it's time to leave. I don't feel like talking to some dyke on the prowl. For the time being i'm done with other people. I have no urge to talk at all. I just want to go home, soak in a hot bath, get drunk and fall into bed hoping that sleep will find me...
I open the purse and take out a bill. When i place it on the bar and get ready to leave, i feel her hand on my bare arm.
"Sit down, honey! Please."
"What the he..." i stop in midsentence when i look at her. Although her words asked me to sit down, her eyes tell me a different story. They tell me that i have no other choice but to sit down. That she knows sitting there beside her, listening to her is what my subconsciousness wants to do right now. And although my brain is screaming that i should get out of here, and better make it now, my legs have a mind of their own and i find myself perched on the barstool again.

"A mineral for the young lady and a champagne for me" she tells the bartender, and turning towards me "you know, sweety, alcohol wont solve your problems. And it won't make them go away either."

[MissConfused]

I still see the anger in her eyes, but now it has turned to fear.
Once she settles back into her seat and looks at me I now she has relaxed just a touch and is starting to feel an attraction towards not me but towards me power and demeanor.

The bartender serves our drinks and I notice he is a little slow to walk away. I take a sip of my champagne and notice she is not touching hers. Perhaps her need for wine has not yet subsided. I pick up her glass and take a sip leaving a red mark on the glass from my lipstick. I hand the glass back to her, the side with the lipstick is pointing towards her. She drinks but she deliberately drinks from the side with my red marks on it. She has given her first indication of wanting to serve me.

I take another sip of my champagne and place my hand upon her knee. Immediately her hand is upon mine weakly attempting to pull it loose. She protests for just a second and then her hand strokes the back of my arm. She removes her hand and turns back to face the bar as if she were trying to ignore me. With an evil look in my eye I push my glass of champagne towards her indicating she should enjoy a drink. While I am pushing the glass towards her I also slide my hand a little further up her leg.

She quickly finishes my glass of champagne and I remove my hand and wave to the bartender for two glasses of the sparkly wine. For some reason he has delivered our drinks almost immediately.

I pick up my glass as does she but she continues to stare straight ahead and not at me. None the less she doesn’t protest this time when I return my hand to her leg. I enjoy gently stroking her smooth soft skin. A few times I come close to striking her wet golden treasure but I stop short. There will be time for that later.

Finally she turns her face to stare at me. There is not love or lust in her face but rather she glows of surrender. I finally become aware of our surroundings and notice that the little boys who were swarming on her have now gathered around and are watching us intently. It is time to go, I turn to ask the bartender for our bill but he is also standing there watching us. When I ask him once again for our bill he waves me off and declares our tab is gratis.

With my new conquest on my arm we leave the bar.

[lucy]

The moment we leave the bar, i get sobered by the chilly wind. I find myself arm in arm with a beautiful woman. What the hell was i thinking? What happened to me? I was determined to leave the bar when the woman approached me and suddenly i find myself being fingered by her publicly, a group of leering guys around us.
I free my arm from hers and confront her. "What's wrong with you? How dare you touching me up? And who are you anyway?" i shout at her.
She looks at me calmly. "You're wet, right?"
Oh my god. I didn't realize before. But she's right. I sure am. My friggin' pussy has betrayed me, yet again. My embarassment must be all over my face, for she smiles broadly now. "I know what you want, honey. And I can give it to you. Don't be afraid. You will enjoy it, and you will be free, possibly for the first time in your life."
Umm, i'm taken aback. What do i want? And why would she know something i don't even know myself?
On the other hand, she was right with me being wet. Although wet is the wrong word. Slopping fits better.
Curiousity has killed many cats, and i'm no exception to the rule. I let her take my hand and walk the few meters to the curb, where she hails a cab.
"By the way, my name is Zoe."

[MissConfused]

Immediately after we get into the cab I give the driver directions. Zoe places her left hand inside my leg. She then pulls herself around so we are face to face and begins kissing me. While her hand runs up and down my leg I clasp her face in my hands. GOD her face is burning. She is an inferno! I feel heat begin in my breasts and burn up through my neck and into my face. Surely my face is glowing hotter than hers.
The driver pulls to the curb and tells us we are there. I wonder how much he enjoyed the show. I am in a rush so I throw the driver two $20 bills for a $22 fare and quickly jump out of the cab pulling Zoe close behind me.
We speed through the lobby of the apartment building and luckily catch an elevator immediately.
I force her into the corner of the lift and begin kissing her again. Oh how I love the taste of her mouth! It is twenty four flights to my apartment. Once again I wonder if the security guard is monitoring the camera and enjoying the show. I envision him stroking himself to the display we are putting on.
Finally we arrive at my apartment. I grab her by the hair on each side of her face and force her to her knees directly in front of me.
Surprisingly she drops to this submissive position without any hesitation. I look deep into her eyes and with a demanding voice I command her to please me in any method I wish.

[lucy]

In the cab I find myself flung at the lady. I still don’t even know her name, don’t know if she deliberately doesn’t tell me or if she just doesn’t think of telling me hers. However I do know that her mouth tastes great and her hand sliding up my leg feels good. I still don’t know what made me get into the cab with her, though. I realize it’s very easy to „go with the flow“, to just let things happen, and Im possibly drunk enough not to care where the flow leads me. I glance at the rearview mirror once and see the driver staring at me.
In the elevator she presses me roughly into a corner. „You’ll be mine, Zoe!“ she whispers in my ear. „Mine alone!“
She leads me to her apartment and as soon as the door is locked she grabs me by my hair and pulls me down, until I’m kneeling in front of her.
„You’ll serve me in any way I want, girl. Because that’s what you want.“
Oh my god, what have I gotten myself into? Do I really want to kneel in front of her? And what could she mean with serving her in every way she wants? I have no idea what girls do with each other, apart from fondling each other and maybe eating each other’s pussies. I should get up, walk to the door and leave. Leave her behind for the rest of my life, that woman who kinda abducted me, forces me to do things I never wanted to do. That would be the sensible thing to do. Instead I find myself looking up at her and hear myself whisper „yes, Ma’am, I would love to serve you.“
She unzips her skirt and lets it fall to her feet. The white silk panties are moist, wet even. I stare directly at her lips pressing at the thin fabric. She grabs my hair again and pulls me towards her. I push the panty to one side and my tongue immediately slides between her folds, searching for her clit. I play with it and hear her moaning louder and louder. She starts to move backward und forward, up and down, pressing my face ever harder onto her pussy, literally fucking herself on my face. Then I take one hand from her hips to play with myself. She stops her motions for a second to hiss at me: „You don’t touch yourself without my permission, slut. You’re here to please ME!“
For a second I think about her calling me a slut. But I guess she’s right, a girl who’s kneeling in front of a woman and whose face is used by that woman to fuck herself on is probably indeed a slut. And by now I’m also fully aware that my own pussy is slopping wet, my panties are soaked through.
So yes, I guess she is right. I am indeed a slut. Her slut.