An Unusual Night at the Bar Ch. 01-02

Was she right? Was I cutting myself short of an experience by labelling myself? Or was this just her strategy of talking me into something I said I didn't want?

She seemed to sense my inner struggle, because she edged even closer, put her hands on my naked waist and whispered, "What if you stop thinking so much and just focus on what your gut tells you?"

When I neither replied nor moved, she leaned in to brush her lips against mine. My heart was pounding, the rhythm faster than the upbeat song we could hear droning in the club behind us. My eyes fluttered closed and I willed my thoughts away, concentrating only on the sensation of her lips on mine and her hands on my skin.

Layla brought her hands up to my face and wrapped them around my neck, kissing me again, this time with more determination. And something about this gesture, about how carefully, yet resolutely she held my face in her hands, a gesture that I had always loved yet seldom encountered in my previous relationships, let my reservations dissolve, and I gave in to her kiss.

My hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, my lips parted to grant her access, and when our tongues met, the softest sigh escaped me. The kiss deepened and became more urgent, as our tongues intertwined and our breaths started to turn to gasps.

Her tongue was skilful, the way it played with mine, teasing me and making me long for more. Her hands slid down my back until they touched the skin beneath my crop top again, rubbing circles that were probably meant to be soothing, but that left burning traces instead. When her mouth deviated from my lips to my collarbone, planting little kisses next to the spaghetti strap of my top, I sighed again, my hands wandering to her firm bum and pulling her into me even more.

It had taken me all but ten seconds of kissing to forget that she was a woman, and that I supposedly wasn't into her because of that. Right now, I couldn't really form coherent thoughts anymore, all my brain could formulate was "Please don't stop", alternating with little sighs and moans, and I wasn't even sure if I actually said that aloud or if I was merely thinking it.

I could feel Layla's body against mine, her tight dress leaving little to the imagination. Yet, it wasn't enough, I wanted more of her. She seemed to feel the same, because her hands roamed my body restlessly, squeezing my bum, circling my bellybutton, tracing the neckline of my crop top.

After a few minutes of shamelessly making out in the dark, two drunkards staggered out of the club and passed by us on their way to the street, making filthy comments at the sight of us girls kissing.

Layla let go of me and straightened her dress when she felt me becoming tense under the scrutinizing eyes of the unwanted audience. She cast me a questioning glance.

"Wanna leave?"

I cleared my throat before I could reply with a rather hoarse, "Yes, please."

Chapter 2

We walked down the street again, arms around each other's waists, stopping almost every ten metres to exchange long, yearning kisses.

"Get a room!" someone shouted at the sight of our PDA, perhaps jealous of the obvious chemistry radiating off us two.

"Good idea," Layla chuckled and waved her fingers through mine. "Come home with me?"

I never would have done this with a man I had just met a few hours before, but with her I felt so utterly safe, so relaxed, that I nodded my consent before pulling her to me for another kiss. I didn't know what was going on between us or what it said about me, but I didn't want to stop this feeling just now.

From the moment I agreed to go home with her, I could feel the energy between us changing. Had it been light-hearted, maybe even a little giddy and playful before, it now became this strong electric hum, a mixture of anticipation, impatience, and, at least in my case, anxiety.

We weren't fifteen anymore, so we both knew pretty well what was going to happen once we were at her place. But even though I'd had my fair share of partners and felt quite experienced, this was completely new for me. I had never been in bed with a woman. Geez, I hadn't even seen lesbian porn or sex scenes. I had absolutely no idea how women did it, and the more I thought about it now, the more it freaked me out.

I didn't like the prospect of being the unexperienced one, the one who felt useless because she didn't know how to give pleasure to the other one. Surely her anatomy would be similar to my own body, but who knew if she liked what I liked? Besides, touching your own body and touching someone else's are two things that are worlds apart.

I was so in my head that I hadn't paid attention to where we were going. Only when we suddenly stopped and Layla let go of my hand to rummage her handbag for the keys did I snap out of my train of thoughts. If she had noticed that I had grown awfully quiet, she didn't acknowledge it. She fumbled with the keys for a second, then pushed open the door and waved for me to enter.

I followed her into the hallway, which seemed just as gritty and worn down as the streets outside. We walked up two flights of stairs before stopping in front of a wooden door with glass panels. The corridor behind the door was black, which was no surprise to me since it was already around 1 am. Layla opened the door and I followed her example, taking off my heels before entering the apartment.

My feet sighed a breath of relief, being finally free after so many hours of walking around and dancing. I was astonished I hadn't noticed how much they hurt before, but then again I had been quite distracted.

The source of my distraction led me to a room at the end of the hallway, which turned out to be the kitchen, a spacious, comfortable room complete with two sofas and a few chairs grouped around a large dining table. Layla opened a cupboard and took out two large glasses.

"Water? We only have tap though."

"That's alright. Thanks."

She filled the glasses, then moved on to another room. This one had to be hers. There was a king sized bed in the centre, a desk, a wardrobe, some photos on a dresser. I took a few steps towards them to have a better look.

Her and the guy from the bar, her roommate David, her and two people who looked like they could be her parents, her and a girl that had her eyes and mouth, maybe her sister or cousin, and her with a beautiful fiery redhead who reminded me very much of Ygritte the wildling. She featured in more than one photo, there was one of them on a mountain, one on the beach, one somewhere in the streets... and they always had their arms around each other.

I wondered if she was a friend or an ex, and in the same breath a voice somewhere in the back of my mind incredulously asked if I was jealous. I shook my head to get rid of that thought, but when I looked up and saw Layla's puzzled expression I realized that she must've posed a question.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted to sit down?"

She pointed towards her bed, the only seating area besides the desk chair, and set the water glasses down on the nightstand.

"Oh yeah, sure."

I sat down on the bed beside her, leaning against the headboard, and feeling uncomfortably reminded of the day I lost my virginity. My boyfriend at the time and I had sat next to each other on his bed, not really sure where to begin, and it had been quite awkward. A lot of clumsy groping and hands that didn't really know where to go. We had both been 17. Now I was ten years older, I knew a lot more about sex, and on a rational level I had no idea where all this anxiety came from.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

So Layla did notice that I had grown awfully quiet. (It would have been strange if she hadn't, to be honest.)

I shook my head. "Not second thoughts, no. Just a lot of nerves that I can't really explain." I grimaced.

Layla smiled and cupped my face with her hand, a thumb slowly stroking over my cheek. "There's nothing to be afraid of," she murmured and kissed me, "Just lean back and enjoy, and guide me through what you like and what you don't. I know it can be weird giving detailed instructions, but believe me, you only have to do it once and it makes everything so much easier and better."

I simply nodded, trying to let her kisses distract me but not fully succeeding yet.

She furrowed her brow. "What? What is it?"

"It's really stupid," I muttered, "But what if I'm no good at...this?"

That elicited a laugh, but she was serious again the next moment.

"Jules, there's no way you're not going to be good. You are turning me on so much already. Other than that it's just paying attention to how the other person reacts."

She smiled again, then got up and straddled me.

"For now, you just relax, ok?"

And with that she kissed me again, hands on both sides of my face, her tongue demanding all of my attention as it asked mine for a dance. My hands, which had been resting limply at my sides, wandered up her thighs, as if pulled by a magnetic force. Her dress had slid up when she sat down atop of me, and I could feel the soft, silky skin of her legs.

Without thinking, my hands continued their journey upwards, pushing up her dress even further on their way, until they could rest on the cheeks of her perfectly rounded, firm ass.

Layla's mouth now wandered down my neck, while her hands had moved to the back of my glittery top to open its zipper. I arched my back to make it easier for her, and she peeled the spaghetti straps from my arms and removed the fabric.

Her eyes seemed to devour my naked breasts. She traced the outline of their roundness softly with her fingertips, a few times, until my peaks had hardened. Then her mouth was on one of my nipples, sucking on it lightly, tongue flicking against the small, erect bud, while her hand was playing with the other one, alternating between soft strokes and gentle pulling. I was putty in her hands, my breath accelerating, my torso lifting itself up to be closer to her.

She was slowly increasing the intensity of her touch, becoming more and more demanding, until she was pulling and pinching my nipples, kneading my breasts with both hands and lightly grazing them with her teeth.

I panted and moaned and gasped with every new and more intense touch. Never had I known that I could be aroused this much just by having my tits groped like that. And never would I have guessed that my breast was so directly connected to my centre of lust, but I could feel the pulsating between my legs and I knew that I was already wet. I was hooked, and I wanted more.

Layla seemed to sense that, or maybe my bucking hips gave me away. At any rate, she climbed down from me and moved her hands to the button of my jeans. She looked at me for my approval, and I nodded my consent, still gasping from the way she had manipulated my breasts. She pulled down my pants, and my panties with them, leaving me naked in front of her.

She sat between my legs and started kissing up one thigh, ending on the inside just millimetres away from my labia. She put my leg down and repeated the same procedure on the other leg, until I lay there, my legs spread wide, open and eager for her touch.

One finger traced the outline of my lips, brushing over my clit lightly, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from me. Then the finger dove between the lips, into the slick wetness that had pooled there. She spread my arousal around my labia, circling the clit lazily one, two times, but it was all very soft, and I wanted more. My hips rose to meet her fingers, but she drew away and chuckled lightly.

"Please," I whimpered, not caring that I sounded pleading, because I was.

"Please what?" she asked teasingly. "Be more precise."

I would have rolled my eyes at the game she was playing, only I was desperate for her to make me climax, so I growled with clenched teeth, "Please make me cum!"

She didn't make me wait long. Suddenly her mouth was on me, her tongue flicking against my clit, then diving inside me. I groaned loudly and my hips bucked at the feeling of her tongue writhing inside of me. She alternated between my clit, playing with it with her tongue and fingering it, and penetrating me with her tongue.

She was so. Fucking. Good. I was nearing my climax in an almost frightening speed. When she sucked on my clit and thrust two fingers inside me, I could hardly suppress a scream. Every fibre of my being, every nerve ending seemed to lead to that one point between my legs that was being subjected to this most delicious kind of torture.

I couldn't think, just feel. I had no idea what sounds I was making, or how loudly I was making them. I was vaguely aware that I begged her not to stop because I was so close, so very close to finishing. Somehow she managed to spur me on even more, one hand twirling a nipple again, a third finger entering me, her tongue going crazy on my clit.

And then I came. I started to spasm and convulse, stammering something like, "Ohgodohgodohgod" while burying my hands in her braids. No matter how much my hips bucked, she didn't let go and didn't stop until I had completely collapsed under her, utterly spent and very satisfied.

I woke up in the dusty blue light of the really early morning hours, when the new day dawns, but the sun has not yet risen. It took me a moment to figure out my whereabouts, lying in a strange bed with an arm draped over my waist that wasn't mine.

I couldn't remember her doing it, but Layla must've taken off her dress before coming to bed, because she was there next to me, not wearing anything but white lacey panties that contrasted beautifully with her chocolate skin.

While I watched her sleep, I suddenly became aware of the noises that must've woken me. A rhythmic clapping accompanied by moans and grunts that seemed to come from the room next to Layla's. Probably her roommate, having some more hot, steamy make-up-sex, I reasoned. It made me horny, listening to the sounds they were making.

A quick glance to my side confirmed that Layla was still fast asleep. I huffed, but then decided to go to the bathroom, since I hadn't done that before passing out, and my bladder was making itself known painfully. I carefully lifted Layla's arm, slid out of bed and sneaked out of the room.

I was lucky: the first door I tried turned out to be the bathroom. I quickly met my needs, then, as I was washing my hands and caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror, decided to take one of Layla's make-up wipes from the shelf and get rid of the smudged mascara and eyeliner that made me look like Alice Cooper.

I exited the bathroom and was already moving back to Layla's room when I caught a movement in the corner of my eye. The door to the room next to Layla's was slightly ajar, and I could hear the moaning and clapping of flesh against flesh much clearer now. I normally didn't have voyeuristic tendencies, but I couldn't help myself.

Slowly, I tiptoed closer to the door and tried to peak through the crack of the door. In the blueish morning light I could see silhouettes moving. Fascinated, I pressed closer to the door, pushing it slightly more open so I could see more.

There was a woman on the bed, on all fours, her fully rounded boobs swinging back and forth with every thrust. Her hands were clutching the sheets, and she was panting and groaning. All I could see of him were his big hands around her tiny waist, but even that sight turned me on like crazy. I could feel myself getting wet again. I was curious and I wanted to see more, so I pushed the door open a little bit further.

Now I could see him as well. David was kneeling behind the woman, thrusting into her with a concentrated look on his face. He didn't completely pull out of her, so I had no chance to see his cock. I wondered what it looked like. I just stood there silently in the door and watched him fucking her, and without thinking my hands found their way to my wet centre, where my fingers eagerly pushed through the folds and started rubbing in a rhythm that was trying to match the one of the couple in front of me.

David seemed to continually increase the tempo, and my hand rubbed faster along with his faster thrusts. I had no idea if seconds or minutes had passed, but I was so consumed by what I saw that I stopped being careful. I moaned and grabbed for the door to steady myself, which swung wide open.

Startled, my head jerked over to the couple. The woman seemed to be oblivious of my presence, she was way too deep in her own sexual frenzy. Her head turned away from me, she was making long, whimpering sounds. David, however, turned his head to me and halted his movements for a second.

I felt mortified, standing there, naked, masturbating, and gawking at them.

"Don't stop, baby," the woman gasped breathlessly.

David, still looking at me, resumed his movements, but now, he pulled out of her almost all the way, excruciatingly slow, thus granting me a look at the impressive length of his cock. A small smirk played around the corner of his lips as he almost imperceptibly nodded to me, then turned back to his girlfriend and pushed his entire length back into her with one swift movement, eliciting a loud groan from her in return.

He had acknowledged my presence but didn't seem bothered by it. Instead, he seemed to take things up a notch to give me a proper show. His thrusts became harder, and he moved one hand to her clit to finger her. I let my thumb flick over my own clit while pushing a second, then a third finger inside me, but it wasn't enough. My gaze was fixed on David's cock and I envied the woman. I wanted to be entirely filled, just like she was.

In that moment, something, or rather someone, pressed against my naked butt.

"Here you are," Layla whispered, her hands sneaking around me to cover my tits, fingers pulling on my nipples.

I turned around to kiss her, or rather tried, but she didn't let go and instead had me fixed in place with her arms around me, hands still on my boobs.

"She's cumming soon," she breathed into my ear. "I want to see it."

And so we stood there and watched, me still fingering myself and Layla helping me, and when the woman finally (and very noisily) climaxed, I wasn't that far from cumming with her.

The moment David's girlfriend shuddered and screamed, however, Layla stopped touching me and pulled me away from the door.

"David likes the audience, but Olivia doesn't," she hissed, silently pulling the door shut and moving back to her room.

I felt like I had just been cheated, even though I'd already had a mind-blowing orgasm earlier that night. I still wanted more, and most of all I wanted more inside me. Fingers just weren't enough.

I sighed wistfully, then followed Layla back into bed. She was sitting on her mattress, watching me come closer with dark, lust-hooded eyes.

"I don't know about you," she said, sliding down her white lace panties, "but I could really go for another round."

I nodded, but she picked up on my guarded reaction.

"What is it?" she demanded.

I gulped. How to say this diplomatically? I didn't want to make her feel bad, but... she didn't have a cock. She couldn't give me what I craved.

She frowned. "Spit it out, Jules. I can do a lot of things, and mind-reading is not one of them. If you want something, you have to say it out loud."

I took a deep breath, then said without looking at her, "I want to have sex, real sex, you know? The kind where you are completely filled."

To my surprise, she chuckled.

"Oh, and there I thought I should take it easy on you in the beginning. You want it hard and relentless like they did it? You want to have a big, fat cock inside you?"

I nodded, partly embarrassed by my desire, partly astonished by her dirty talk that didn't seem to fit in with the elegant business woman I had taken her for.