Ladies Who Lust: An Erotica Collection. Various
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hand shot out and flipped undone the buttons on my blouse.
‘So. No one’s looking. Show me what you’re doing to yourself, darling.’
My blouse had fallen softly open. She could see my hand, still lightly caressing my breast.
I sat up straighter, and ran my tongue across my dry mouth. ‘Like this?’
‘Oh yes, just like that. Now let me see you stroke the other one.’
I had some more to drink then lifted my hand, cold from the cocktail glass, to my other breast, and pushed them together. She hitched her stool closer to me so that her legs were on either side of mine, trapping me there, and she lifted my camisole right up so that my breasts, and my kneading hands, were exposed.
The music stopped briefly. The few beats of silence seemed endless. We both froze. Then it started again, a more rhythmic sound, heavy on the bass, and Delilah’s tongue poked between her white teeth as her very long, white fingers took my hands away from my breasts and pushed them down to rest on her thighs.
I felt tipsy, and hot, and helpless.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Touch me, Clara. You’re so gorgeous, and I’m creaming myself here. I want you to touch me.’
My hands slid up her thighs, under the little dress, and rested on the crease at the top. I didn’t know what to do next, but my God, she’d started something. There was a devil hopping about inside me. And the fact that there were other people here, who could turn and see what was happening at any moment and see two women mesmerised by each other, about to do incredible things to each other, that just excited me more.
She didn’t rush me. She let me rest my hands there on her thighs, my fingers spreading open, treading on her, testing the feel of her skin, the give of her flesh, while she pulled my blouse right off me and ripped the camisole easily to one side. There was unveiled lust in her eyes now. My breasts bounced out. Both nipples were dark-red points, sore with the rubbing against my camisole and intoxicated with the soreness.
Her hands came up and slowly they came towards me, and when they touched my breasts it was so electrifying I nearly leaped out of my skin with shocked pleasure, pushing my body into her hands, arching my back to offer her my breasts. I tried to inch my bar stool closer with my feet hooked round the bars, but my knickers were stuck to the seat, my sticky pussy rubbing through the silk against the leather. I rubbed myself harder and there was the shock again, hotter this time, urging for more. My tight skirt rode further and further up until the stocking tops and then my knickers were plainly visible.
She pretended not to notice. Instead she squeezed my breasts and pinched my nipples harder, and then suddenly she leaned forward, balanced herself with her hands on either side of me, and took one nipple between her white teeth.
I thought I was going to go mad. She bit the nipple really hard, making me squeal with the pain, but it was gloriously wicked and I started to push against her face as she bit me then started to suck me, and the movement still had me rubbing against the leather of the seat, getting wetter. This way I could raise myself slightly off the stool so that my pubes were only just making contact. This was private pleasure. This was something I had done before. After all, you can do it whenever you want, yes? On a plane, on a bus, in a cab, in a restaurant, in the office, wherever there are people close enough to see if only they looked.
And usually no one can tell what I’m doing, which is half the fun, but when she pulled away, her lips wet with sucking, my nipple elongated and sore, the ice woman Delilah could perfectly well see my spread legs and the slow sliding of my fanny.
Her voice petered into a little gasp as she grabbed the seat of her own stool, and started to copy me, pushing her bottom hard back across the seat, and forwards again. The tiny muscles in my pussy were really convulsing now.
I held onto her thighs as she slid herself back and forth, and inched my fingers into her crack. Dampness started seeping through my knickers as the silk wrinkled away from my pussy. She bit her lip hard as she rubbed herself faster. I felt the cool leather meeting my sex lips and I nearly squealed out loud as they spread open, my little clit peeping out and retracting as it, too, made contact with the hard seat. Delilah could tell what was happening. I wanted her to see my knickers in the shadow of my skirt, and she was gyrating her hips under my hands, grinning at me, both of us in a private circle of excitement.
‘Clara,’ she hissed, her face suddenly close to mine. ‘I need fucking!’
I didn’t quite know what she meant. Did she mean me, or did she want to get one of the men in the bar? I wasn’t having that.
‘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.
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