‘You’re not going anywhere, lady.’
I pushed my fingers into her pussy and parted her, feeling the velvety smoothness of her sex lips as I opened them, ran my fingers up and down the crack and felt its soft wetness, the frills of her lips limp with desire. I’d never done this before. Ever. Not even close, yet now my forefinger was poking at this woman’s cunt, and her cunt was sucking it in as if it was a little cock, and I wanted to do it. The stronger the pull from her cunt, the more I gasped, rubbing myself more frantically across the stool as droplets of desire stained the seat.
She closed her eyes. Her eyeballs rolled under her purplish lids, her eyelashes so long on her white cheeks. Somehow I’d had that effect on her, and I was in charge now. I took one of her hands, still holding my breast, and thrust it under my skirt. Her fingers were cool, and long, and I pulled them right into me, hooked my knickers aside, pushed her fingers inside so she could feel the strip of sticky hair and the cunt pulsing with desire beneath.
My mouth was against hers and, as her fingers mirrored what mine were doing, parting my sex and pushing inside, I kissed her, loving the soft give of her mouth, the grating of her teeth, my tongue pushing between those teeth to get at her, her tongue coming out at me, filling my mouth, making me want to suck on it.
My finger was up inside her now, pushing hard, feeling her body closing tight, and her fingers were parting me, stirring up delicious tremors of excitement. We kissed frantically, our mouths hard on each other, our hands pushing and pulling at each other, my leg curling up around hers, our bar stools right up close, rocking with our motion, and I realised that any minute we were going to fall right off onto the wooden floor, puncture the moment, lose it, lose everything.
‘What shall we do? I’ve got to do this!’ I hissed into her mouth. ‘Where can we go?’
She pulled away, glanced over my shoulder at whoever was still in the bar.
‘We stay right here. No one here. No one cares.’ She smiled, her eyes half closed. She was like a Siamese cat. ‘Free to do whatever we want. So show me what you’re going to do to me, honey.’
So still kissing her, still keeping her impaled on my fingers, I dragged my Delilah off her stool and guided her sideways to the nearest Chesterfield sofa and as we tottered across the floor I was deliciously aware of my knickers reduced to a wet twist stuck unevenly up my crack, dark and soaking with my juices.
We tumbled onto the sofa, and oh God now she was on top of me, her light weight pinning me down, knocking the breath out of me, and our slim female legs and arms twined around each other. We had left our leather stools behind us, wet with our excitement, and our pussies were grinding up against each other, my thighs hooked around her hips, her pussy pushing and shoving, mine bucking against hers, her fingers peeling my knickers off, opening my throbbing cunt, our fingers finding their ways back in, our mouths kissing, sucking, pushing, so sweet.
As my cunt welcomed her fingers right inside me I flung my head back for a moment and glimpsed the room around us. We weren’t alone. We knew that already, but now the barman and his cougars and some other people seemed to be jostling in the corner of my eye, I couldn’t tell how close, watching us, I thought, but not crowding us, but that just made my cunt clench with more filthiness. My sore nipples brushed against my new lover’s prickly sequinned dress, my breasts squashed up against her, her skirt round her waist, her bottom up in the air, held up by my fingers.
The fire spat and crackled near my cheeks. Feet stepped across the wooden floors, thudded across the rugs. Voices whispered and laughed. A siren called far down in the city. And Delilah’s finger brushed over my clitoris, making me jerk up at her.
Delilah’s cheeks were suffused with a hectic flush as I slammed my fingers into her again and she started to come, pulled back as if sucked by a tide and then throwing herself over me, her mouth grabbing mine, her fingers fucking me like crazy.
I watched her bucking back and forth across me, her mouth open now and her eyes blue and unblinking, fixed on mine. Her face was eerily calm, but there were high, keening cries coming from her as I pumped at her, and I was so aroused by watching what I’d done to her, the wild pleasure that was overwhelming her, that my own pleasure began to ebb slightly, and she knew it because she started to lick at me again, my mouth, pushing it open, panting her breath into me, pushing her finger into me, pushing up past my clitoris, pulling it out again, leaving spirals of hot desire, circling her finger just there, teasing me, then at last pushing in and remorselessly staying there.
‘Gotta keep up!’ she gasped as we rocked each other.
And so the wildness coiled through me, jagged and sharp. I heard myself crying out like she had done, my hands scrabbling to keep a hold of her as she screamed again, and at last I came, gripping her fucking fingers and shuddering with total abandon.
We slumped on top of each other as our climaxes faded. I was spread out under her, helpless as a colt, a trickle of pussy juice sliding down my inner thigh.
At last she slid off me, light as a feather, and stood up. I lay on the sofa, the fire crackling beside me, staring up at her long, white legs walking away from me, the shadow under her tight dress, that warm wet place where I had just been.
She stepped over to the bar and murmured to someone. I sat up shakily, yanking my skirt back over my legs, failing to find my lost knickers.
‘Maybe I should go,’ I stammered. She seemed to be ignoring me now. I scrabbled for my shoes. I thought I’d better make my exit, before I was thrown out.
She put her hand out to stop me as I passed.
‘We could have another drink. We could go out on the town,’ she suggested, handing me another daiquiri. ‘Or we could just go straight down to your room?’
‘How do you know I’m staying here?’
‘I own the place.’ She smiled, and chinked my glass. ‘So I know everything about you.’
Drama Queen
Heather Towne
‘I-I only got him six weeks ago,’ Makayla snuffled, her lower lip trembling. ‘B-but we’d made a real connection, you know?’
Kim put an arm around the girl’s quivering shoulders, said, ‘I know. I’m sooo sorry.’
The two young women stared at the goldfish floating belly up in the goldfish bowl.
‘Nemo was a good fish,’ Kim commented softly, sliding her left hand down over Makayla’s hand, squeezing it.
‘Th-the best!’ Makayla burst into tears.
Kim hugged the girl tighter. ‘Hey, don’t cry. He’s gone to a better place.’ She brought the girl’s hand up and kissed it, lightly tongued it. ‘But I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you. I’m not going anywhere.’
The tall, willow-thin redhead turned Makayla around in her arms. She gazed lovingly, lustfully at her sobbing friend, then lifted the girl’s chin with her fingers, brushed some of the tears off Makayla’s chubby chocolate cheeks.
Makayla blinked her large liquid-brown eyes, her voluptuous body shuddering with a brave gulp. ‘Th–thanks, Kim. You’re the best – too.’
Kim
