Disclaimer

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are figments of the authors’ imagination. Any resemblance to events and/or persons is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © UnXpected, 2011

Our eyes locked for a minute, before I look her up and down. She looked good, and I know she knew it. Her hair; Jet black in a Page Boy style, Brown skin, Almond shaped eyes, a revealing fishnet black shirt with no bra. Was that her nipple caught in one of the many holes in the material? I got excited, as I imagined taking her nipple into my mouth, gnawing gently, flicking my tongue against it. I had to shift on my bar stool, my clit piercing was rubbing through my underwear, against the material of my khaki pants before continuing my inventory of her. She brought the rest of the outfit together with a short satin like skirt, off black pantyhose, and high stiletto heels.

I was rudely brought out of my imaginary mind fuck by my partner’s shrill whisper, “What the hell you looking at her for?”

I quickly made the excuse, as if I had been looking at the clock located on the wall behind where this enticing girl stood.

“Why, you ready to go already?” she retorted.

“No Iona, just wondered what time it was.”

Now that Iona was vaguely aware of my interests, I had to be discreet. I’d been hanging out with her for about a month and a half. She was a good girl, had a decent head on her shoulders, and wasn’t looking for a free ride. Since I became a lesbian years ago, I’ve never had a specific girl. I wasn’t interested in settling down, didn’t want too.

As I sat nursing my drink, I decide to approach “my conquest” to see what she is about.

My chance came sooner than expected. She heads toward the ladies room. I follow a ways behind. When I entered, all of the six stalls are occupied. The bathroom attendant busied herself by handing out paper towels, and peddling her basket of perfumes, mouthwash and extra goodies, to the steady stream of patrons who would tip her at the sinks.

I waited, letting waiting women pass in front of me, to see which one she was in. In time, all stalls were exited and re-entered by women in a rush to take care of their business, every stall except for the one she occupied. I walked to the only one that she could be in, and stood in front of it. She must have seen my black patent leather shoes from underneath the door, because she opened it almost immediately, letting me saunter in as she backed inside. I push the stall door closed and slide the latch, behind my back while facing her.

“What took you so long?” was her first question.

I pull her towards me by her wrists, putting my lips on hers. We kiss hungrily at each other, as I walked her backward, further inside the oversized stall. I position her against the toilet tank, with her legs on opposite sides of the lidless toilet seat. She parted her full lips slightly allowing my tongue to explore inside of her mouth. One of my hands held her at the back of her neck. The other found its place, rubbing in a circular motion against the netting material, which is her shirt, and the rough but soft texture of her nipple. She smells of perfume, along with the slight scent of sweat. Her body feels good against mine. Shapely waist, wide hips, my hands explore her body as I bend down, and take one of her trapped nipples into my mouth through the netted material.

She runs her fingers thru my short styled hair as I go to work. A sweet aroma, which I could only imagine to be her pussy, rose from under her short skirt. I squat down, into a backward sitting position, on the open lidless toilet, and lift her skirt. As suspected, no panties. Her pubic area’s neat low haircut is exposed to my face. I put the tip of my nose into the top of her slit. My tongue, finds it’s way to her lower area, tasting her, embedding her, to my memory.

All the while, we could hear other women entering, and leaving adjoining stalls. The click of heels against the tile floor, the steady stream of others relieving themselves, due I’m sure, to the alcohol they had consumed. As I lick at her clit, the sweet smell of her scent permeates my nostrils. The earlier, strong scent of “Lysol”, and a hanging toilet deodorizer, no longer was relevant.

I’m sure some of the women knew what was going on behind our door. It was clearly noticeable, from the adjacent stalls; our shoes facing in opposite directions, and her on tip toe to accommodate my mouth. At this club, it was normal. At this point, neither of us cared, which was clearly apparent. She had her back against the wall, her butt against the top, very edge of the toilet tank. I licked, sucked, and teased, exploring every inch that I could, of her most private area. She pulled at my hair, sucking in air through her teeth, At one point, it got so intense, her feet left the floor and rested on my shoulders, as her arms took the weight of her body. She gyrated her hips burying my face into her clit letting me know she liked what I was doing. I continued to tease, constantly bringing her ALMOST to climax, then tapering off. When I felt I’d had enough, I pulled my face back, away from her. She responds like I thought she would. She places one of her hands at the back of my neck, pulling me back towards her, while her other hand shifted slightly, but kept her balance on top of the toilet tank. I go back to her with a smile on my lips, only to kiss her clit hard for the last time then gently lower her legs from my shoulders and stand up.

“What…where are you going”, she asks panting in an out of breath like manner, standing on unsteady legs.

“Give me your number, and I’ll finish the job later.” I answer as I straighten out my clothes, and run my fingers though my hair to smooth it back down.

“No, finish now”, she demands in a pleading voice.

I smile, my response was to turn my back to her, unlock the stall door, and walk out of the ladies room feeling the stares from bathroom attendant, and the women occupying the sinks mirrored reflections, at my back.

I join Iona back at the table, and her questions as to what took me so long. I sat facing the ladies room, and took a drink of my waiting liquor to disguise the scent of pussy on my breath before I spoke:

“Can I take a shit in peace.”

That ended her questions, which is what I wanted. When “she” emerged from the ladies room, she glances around the club until our eyes meet. She holds my gaze for a quick minute, then, saunters over to her date, a big burly female that I know will be a problem later. I don’t care. Right now I want her, and I usually get what I want.