Night on the Town

"Well, come on, chicken!"

"Cluck, cluck." OK so I know it's not original, but it was the best I could do. Despite my misgivings, I got out of the minivan, smoothed my skirt across my hips, and waited for Alexis. Her name's really Alice, but she was Alexis for the night. The same way Jeanna was Gina and I was Belinda. I don't remember whose idea it was, but it was supposed to make us more exotic. Yeah, right. Three soccer moms getting exotic. Not that we didn't do our best. We all sported new hairdos -- mine was cut short with a sweep over the ears, Alexis had reddish extensions, Gina had a fresh frost -- and were dressed for a night on the town. I knew that I was going to turn heads. I had on a raw silk blouse, well what passes for raw silk these synthetic days (what do Chinese silkworms do for a living now?) and a slightly short charcoal gray skirt. The skirt had a zipper up the right side from a five inch slit. The zipper had a gold padlock at the top. I wore its gold key around a bracelet on my left wrist. I had wondered about my rings and decided to leave them at home in a safe place where my husband wouldn't come across them.

Gina stashed her keys in her clutch and we were ready. Well, almost ready. I had to take several deep breaths. This was out of my league. Or was it? I hadn't needed too much convincing when Jeanna, my bridge playing friend from down the street had suggested a girls' night out. A special girls' night out. And when the whole plan was hatched, I hadn't protested too much the details. We were the Three Musketeers, all for one, one for all, one monkey don't stop no show, It'll be FUN!

Maybe so, I thought..."Or the three stooges, or those silly monkeys, See No Evil, etc.

Not wanting to look like country cousins in the big city, we walked straight up to the door, three abreast. The blue neon sign over the door wasn't garish. Les Nuits des Paris. It almost rhymed. Paris Nights. There was nothing garish about the club, at least not outside. We'd never set foot inside, of course, but word got around in suburbia. It was supposed to be the classiest lesbian bar in the city.

A slender effeminate man opened the door for us. All the staff were men at Paris Nights. The only hustling was supposed to be among the patrons. Maybe it made the customers feel safer, or something.

"Here we go," I whispered to my friends as we entered. A Hispanic maitre d' in a tux met us. Gina asked for a table. He swished right along and we swivel hipped in tow. I added up impressions as we walked. The place had muted lighting, small pools from ceiling fixtures for each table, spots around the oval bar, and multi- colored disks playing over the dance floor. The room, for a Saturday, was about a third full. It was only 10:00, early. I thought give it an hour as I perched on a stool at a tall table of four. A waiter appeared immediately. I ordered a margarita, Gina (skinny bitch with a metabolic rate of a hummingbird!) got a beer. Red wine for Alexis.

We made small talk as we watched the room. There were a few groups like ours and only a few singles. Most of the customers were couples. I expected that to change, too. The deejay played a mixture of jazz and R&B. The drink was cold and good. I slowly became aware that I was being watched. It was nothing as obvious as if my husband Tom and I were in a sports bar. Certainly I wasn't being gawked at, but I knew I was being appraised by a few women. That's when I realized I was looking, too. After my second drink arrived, the bar had gotten more crowded. There were less couples, the same groups, and more singles.

Gina and Alexis were looking, too. We put our heads together and compared notes. I was amazed how my mind was working. I looked at my friends for the first time in a new light: Gina, slender as a top model, her hair a silver cap, her dress a metallic turquoise slit up to her hips, dark tan; Alexis, not as big in the bust as me, but showing lots of cleavage in a blazer with a pendant accentuating the plunge, skorts that showed off her magnificent legs in smoky stocking and black stiletto heels. We all looked good. Hell, we looked sexy. I decided I was going to play the part. I crossed, uncrossed my legs, let a foot dangle, laughed a lot at dirty jokes, told a few myself, and before I knew it, the room was packed, the dance floor was full, and Gina was gone. And there was a fresh drink in front of me, one I hadn't ordered.

As I raised the cold mixture to my lips, I looked over the bar. A statuesque blonde in a long sleeved beige lace blouse and miniskirt nodded to me. She smiled. I smiled back. Alexis whispered in my ear that she was going to dance and the blonde came over.

"Hello, I'm Shandra. Join you?" Her smile radiated sex. Her voice whispered seduction.

I matched her smile in wattage. " Thanks for the drink. I'm Belinda."

Shandra took the indicated stool. "That's an exotic name. Nice to meet you. You're new here?"

"Me and the girls decided to see what it's like."

"And what's it like?"

"It just got more interesting."

She put her hand on mine, long fingered, wedding band, engagement ring with a big sparkle, carmine nails. Her hand was cool, surprising me. She leaned forward and I was looking at a cleavage every bit as deep as Alexis'. She pulled in her shoulders to deepen the ski slopes. I raised my eyes to meet hers just as Shandra glanced down from my face. My nipples tightened. I knew from past experience that, braless in this blouse, I was visible.

"How nice," she complimented.

I twisted my wrist so we held hands. "I could say the same thing. Hello, Grand Canyon!"

OK so it was crass, worthy of a college freshman at Hooters, but her display was so blatant, I knew it was what she expected.

"My husband's a sixty year old trial lawyer with Meyer and Lansky. I'm his trophy. He didn't mind the cost of a boob lift."

The rings had told me, but I didn't think she'd be so open about her status. Her other hand reached out for my left. She touched the faint furrow where my own rings usually reside. "Don't worry honey. We get all types in here. Probably half of the girls are just like us. Kids and hubby at home, we're out for a little thrill, they'll never know..."

"Tom will appreciate me more..." I ventured.

"How right you are!"

We laughed.

I waggled a finger for a waiter. Shandra was sipping champagne.

"Have you ever...?"

I told the truth. "Not since college. You know how sororities are. You might not really want to, but you've been at a party and she's there and you think, 'Why not? It might be fun. And it doesn't mean I'm a lesbian...' "

"Exactly." Her eyes held mine. Her hand tightened. I returned the pressure. Then she turned her head to see the deejay and I felt an incredible desire to brush her hair with my lips. As I leaned forward slightly, though, she turned back to me. We both grinned. She knew what had been in my mind.

Seeking to explain, I recounted the events leading up to tonight. Her pale blue eyes, not contacts, I realized, rarely left my face. Her free hand rested lightly on my knee. I pressed my leg against hers.

"I love this song," she interrupted when Nat Cole came over the speakers. "Dance with me?"

I nodded without hesitation. On the dance floor, I moved easily in her arms. We were about the same height; our breasts rubbed gently together. When the song ended, we stood there, in our own world. Then there was Dino's "Sway with Me." The rhythm flowed through me as we danced the faster tempo, not for years had I danced that way. Our thighs, our breasts rubbed together as we moved one with the music. When the music finally ended, I kissed Shandra. It wasn't an involved kiss, no tongue, but our lips clung together. Finally we separated and went back to my table. Alexis was there, alone. I introduced Shandra. They kissed on the cheek. We had another round of drinks. Shandra took out a pack of Virginia Slims. Usually, I'm not much of a smoker, but I took a cigarette. She moved next to me and lit up with an incredibly slender gold lighter. Gina came by, holding the hand of a tiny Asian girl. She said her name was Akito. We touched lips to cheeks. They disappeared. Alexis went to dance with someone. I ordered drinks. The waiter served with an slight bow and complimented us on our dancing. Shandra and I kissed. My hand found hers under the table.

"I like your friends," she said, butting the cigarette.

"Shit," I said. "I hoped you like me."

"Like doesn't do it justice," she told me as she leaned forward and slipped her hand inside my blouse. I gasped at the pleasant contact. My breast seemed to swell in her hand. I knew that other women could see us, and the fag waiters, but that made the contact all that more exciting. The time in college held not a candle to this, the lust and heat I'd felt with men, Tom, a brief workplace affair was nothing at all to this consuming desire.

"Shandra," I barely whispered. All my desires were in those two syllables.

"Give me one hour, darling."

Honest, I pled, "I want the night."

She palmed my tit as we kissed. Our tongues met. It was the sweetest, yet most incredibly hot kiss I'd had in years. I never wanted it to end.

Shandra moved away. She released my breast and cupped my face in both hands. Her eyes were dark with lust. Her voice was husky. "I want -- I want the night, too, sweet Belinda. But all I have is an hour for you."

I put my hand on her leg, ran up to the top of her stocking and stopped when I got to the elastic of her garter. I squeezed her hot woman's flesh. It was wanton, yes, but others were groping, tonguing, loving, and I didn't want to leave her.

"Tonight, an hour. And if we're right for each other, I'll see you again, darling."

I had to accept it. I asked her where we would go.

"They have private alcoves. They're perfect."

"All right."

Shandra swept away to talk to the maitre d'. She was back in minutes. Her face was expectant. "Come along."

I made one stop at the ladies' room, rushing to piss and touch up my make-up. My panties were moist with excitement. I was glad I'd chosen a garter and hose; I would've burned up in pantyhose. I patted my hair and joined Shandra in the corridor. We walked arm in arm up a broad sweep of curved stairs to a wide hall darkly paneled. There were half a dozen doors on either side. Our hips pressed together as she unlocked a door with a shiny silver key. The alcove was dimly lit. A silver ice bucket sat on a chrome table in front of a broad low divan. There was a wrapped bottle and crystal goblets.

Shandra closed the door. I took the initiative, pressed her against the door. We kissed. Our hands cupped each others asses. I slid my fingers up under her skirt, past her stockings and their tops to a nylon-spandex panty-girdle. We swapped spit. I was breathless, but held the kiss. She rubbed her tits against my mounds. Then I brought my hands up, reached inside her top, and found the catch on her bra. I popped it open while her shaky fingers undid the buttons on both our blouses. We both gasped as our naked tits met. Hers were as big as mine and as full, but I didn't have the benefit of her lift surgery. I could see the small marks of the operation. Her nipples were perched on the top rim; mine, darker and roughened from long ago breast feeding, pointed straight ahead.

She bent her head as I lifted my boobs and Shandra took my offered nipple in her mouth. She sucked like a hungry baby. I held her head to my chest and started to hum. While she sucked, I tweaked her nips and felt them harden.

"My god, you're a hot bitch," she said, lifting her head, pushing me away gently.

"Damn, yes." I had to smile. I was sexually responsive, but there was a fire new to me. I felt radioactive.

"You need a drink, darling." She took my hand. Led me to the sofa. I stretched out while she opened the bottle, POP, and poured a goblet of frothy bubbly. She dipped her boob in it, the tit flesh barely fit, and then knelt before me. I licked the champagne from her nipple. Then she moved away, pressed the goblet to my lips. I drank and we shared the liquor. Finally the goblet was dry. She poured again and this time it was her turn to lick my tit. The cold champagne made my flesh pucker, her hot tongue made me flush.

"Now," she gasped as we broke off. Shandra knelt in front of me. I had my skirt up around my waist for her. She stripped off my panties. I was open and ready for her tongue. She buried herself in my cunt. I wailed as my orgasm flooded over me.

Shandra continued to work her lips and her tongue at my slit. Her hunger made me grateful I'd given myself a fresh and careful shave; usually I'm content with a sloppy trim unless it's summer and swimsuit season.

I'd never felt such a wonderful mouth. I was in endless ecstasy. It was the difference, I thought, between a man and a woman. She knew what a woman wanted. I vowed that when the time came, I'd be as good. That's when I knew what I needed to do. I sat up straighter, reached down outside my thighs, and cupped her magnificent boobs. I heard, no I felt moan into my cunt. I squeezed gently as she went back to sucking my clitoris. I came again!

Shandra slowly lifted her face from my loins. Her face was smeared with my juices and it was flushed. She smiled.

"I," I gasped, " I love you."

"Of course you do..." she whispered as I pulled her to me for a long and lingering kiss. There was a combination of my cunt juices and her lipstick that drove me wilder with lust. I licked her lips, kissed her cheeks, even kissed her eyelids as we embraced.

"Sweetheart, let me—"

"Hush." She put a crimson tipped finger to my lips. " I know exactly what you want."

Shandra straightened. She stripped off her top, followed with her bra. She handed the lace cups to me and pressed them to my face. I inhaled her fragrance.

"Now, darling." She knelt back between my spread thighs, all the while holding her eyes with mine. Her eyes flamed. Her lips smiled. Shandra cupped her large breasts. Slowly, she put both hands around her left breast and caressed it. The blue veins were rivers across the pale flesh. I was spellbound, breathless. She bent forward and pressed her tit against my wet cunt. I gasped as she worked at my slit. Up, down. Back, forth.

"Shandra, sweetheart!"

She fucked my cunt with her tit. I grabbed my thighs and spread as far as I could. I wanted to open for her entire mound. It was wonderful. I'd never felt anything so sensuous as this golden creature's tit forced against my sex. We rocked together gasping for breath from our exertions. I came again on her fucking tit. I fell back, exhausted.

"Was it good, Belinda?"

"Goddamn," was all I could pant.

"Let me help you." She freed me from my blouse. She took the bracelet from my wrist and unlocked the key to my skirt. She slid open the zipper, baring my lace and stained panties, my garter, my stockings... I lay back on the divan. I shone with sweat. I pressed my damp hair back; my new hairdo, so carefully worked over, was a sodden ruin. I couldn't care less, though. I felt more alive than I had in years. I stretched languidly.

She picked up my discarded panties and sniffed at them. She lingered over their aroma. Shandra looked me up and down. I still wore my garter, stockings, and suede ankle wrap pumps.

"It's not fair, that I'm naked."

"I know," she whispered.

"Be naked for me, love."

"Yes, darling." Shandra half turned from me. She bent to remove her shoes. She unfastened the skirt and let it slide down her long legs. Her naked skin was flawless, from her high breasts to her indented navel to her stockinged feet. All she wore was her boy cut body shaper and hose. Slowly she put one foot up, undid her stocking, and rolled it down and off her leg. She did the same again. She hooked her thumbs in the panty shaper.

"Please."

"Do you love me?"

"I love you, Shandra."

She turned away, put her thumbs down and stripped off her nylon garment. Her ass was wonderful, round as her boobs, full. Then she turned and I saw her cock.

"Disappointed?" she asked as I gaped at her, his cock! It sprang up from the constraints of her, his! shaper. His hairless balls hung down. "You won't be disappointed for long."

The transvestite dropped between my thighs and his cock was aimed right at my cunt. I was too shocked to try to avoid. It plunged in. I wasn't ready for it, despite my wetness. It's thickness spread me open wide. I should've fought, I should've screamed, but the sudden assault held me silent till the pleasure hit me. I looked between our bodies, past my swollen boobs and his enhanced ones and I saw a thick cock plunging between my lips. A cock every bit as good, no, better than my husbands, more than I could hope to dream about. I started to thrust against the she-male. He noticed my sudden willingness and bent his head to kiss me. Our kiss was passionate, exciting. Our thighs slapped together. My hands went to his breasts and I twisted them.

"Arrghhh!" he howled and I felt the sudden flood as he came in me. It wasn't just reflex as my legs flew around his hips, it was passion, and I pulled him tight against my loins. His cock spasmed in me, time after time. We kissed like new found lovers. He lay atop me and our lips never parted. Slowly, my legs released his hips.

"Darling?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Do you hate me?"

"Get off me."

Slowly, almost timidly, the transvestite got off me. He sat as I sat up. also. I went to my knees between his thighs and kissed his cock. I sucked his cock. I licked his balls. His cock grew hard and I sucked it all the way down my throat. My fist jerked him. He was fully as big as he'd been in my cunt. He tasted of male cock and my cunt. It was a taste I knew so well. I savored it. I put my hands under his hips and levered him up. I let go us his cock and licked his shaven asshole. I drove my tongue against the puckered ring. All the time he was calling my name and begging. The same way I'd begged. I swallowed his cock and grabbed his nuts. At last, there was what i wanted, needed, a gush of cum and I had to gulp it down. The cum was almost as much as it had been in my cunt. I swallowed it like a starving titty baby.

We finally laid side by side on the low divan, arm in arm. My cheek rested against his boob, his hand toyed with my nipple.

"Do you hate me, darling?"

"Don't ever think that," I told him. I rose up on one elbow, looked at his feminine face, and kissed his smudged lips. The kiss was soft and lingering. Then we gazed at each other. Sweat had made a mess of his make up. I knew my make up was ruined, too.

"I'm Shane. I need to clean up and dress."

"Barbara."

Not saying anything else, we got up. He gently washed my face. The contrast between the love goddess upper body and Adonis lower was striking. When he cleaned between my legs, I thrilled at his touch, but calmed myself. It was the same when I wiped down his loins; he got hard, but we ignored the temptations. Then we dressed. He had trouble fitting his cock between his legs and I laughed at his discomfort.

We went down to the club when we were once more lesbian lovers.

At my table, Gina and Akito shared a drink. Alexis sat holding hands with a stocky brunette. When we saw each other, our eyes held guilty secrets. The six of us shared goodnight kisses. Then Jeanna and Alice and I left. They wanted to hear about Shandra and me, but all I admitted was that the two of us had traded telephone numbers.