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Her Name Was Lola

Her name was Lola, but she wasn't a showgirl...
Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl. Okay, she wasn't a showgirl, but her name was Lola. She had the kind of smile that makes you weak at the knees, your heart flutter and your knickers a little damp.

I was standing in the doorway to the ladies dressing room, my mouth hanging open and my eyes fixed on the mirror in front of me. I wasn't amazed at my own reflection, it was the woman who shared it with me, Lola.

She sat in a chair, legs crossed at the knee, wearing nothing but white satin underwear and that wicked smile.

"If you take a picture it'll last longer," she said, with a giggle.

"If I took a picture I'd make a fortune!" I said. "You look incredible!"

She giggled again. "Stop it!" she cried.

I hurried in and shut the door quickly. The reason for me seeing Lola in this state of undress wasn't a normal one. If you'd told me I would be getting to see Lola nearly naked I never would've believed you. We were working in play together, Alan Ayckbourn's Communicating Doors, and Lola was playing Jessica. The first time the audience meets her character she is on her honeymoon, hence the lack of clothing.

I sat down opposite her and just grinned, fighting to keep my eyes on her face and just her face. She wasn't wearing her glasses and although I found them sexy it was nice to see her blue eyes. I kept telling myself that I needed to focus on the eyes!

My gaze slipped down her body to her firm breasts, clad in the silky material. The bra pushed them upwards and together, and my mind wondered as to what they would feel like under my tongue. I just wanted to taste her skin. It seemed iridescent underneath the artificial light.

When I looked up again I saw the irresistible smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"You're still staring," she pointed out.

I felt my cheeks redden. "Sorry!"

She laughed and leaned forward to hug me. "It's alright darling, I take it as a compliment."

Her bare skin against mine felt warm to the touch. I inhaled her scent, a smell that I could never quite place, it was flowery and feminine. Her heart beat a slow steady rhythm.

As she pulled away my right hand cupped her soft cheek. I had one small, millisecond of hesitation before I guided her face towards mine and planted a single lingering kiss on her lips.

After that brief encounter she'd frozen about a centimetre from me. My eyes were still closed, unsure of how my friend would react. There was always flirtation between us, a hint of something bubbling under the surface but never anything this blatant, this obvious.

When Lola didn't resist I moved my left hand to join my right and pulled her face to mine again. Her lips parted and I felt her tongue against mine. She tasted sweet and her kiss was gentle and soft. It almost seemed pure.

Her grip moved from my wrists up my arms to my body. She untucked my t-shirt from the waistband of my skirt and pulled it up, only parting from my lips to allow the fabric to pass over my head.

She tugged the sleeves from my hands, then my fingertips moved down her smooth back. Her skin rippled with goosebumps as my nails, that she had painted red not a day before, tucked beneath the elastic of her knickers.

Suddenly her tongue vanished from mine and I thought I had pushed it too far. But then a breathless 'stand up' escaped from her lips. I quickly complied. She unhooked the fastening on my skirt and let it drop to the floor, leaving me in as little as she wore. My underwear was bright red, my rebellion for having to wear black on the outside.

She held my hands, stepped back and smiled. The smile that made her eyes shine. It always held an air of mischief, like she knew something I didn't.

"I'm loving the underwear," she said.

"It'll look better on the floor," I said, a little shocked at the words that had come out of my mouth.

I cut off her laugh with another kiss, this one more urgent, like if I kissed her hard enough her lips would be imprinted on mine. I guided her to the sofa in the corner of the dressing room and eased her down, my lips travelling to the curve in her neck. She let out a small moan. All the while I kept my fingertips just under the waistband of her knickers. Her hands quickly moved up my back where she unhooked my bra, releasing my breasts. Lola took hold of them, teasing my nipples, sending tingles down my spine to my sex.

She took my face and kissed me again, a soft, gentle kiss, the kind that Lola did best. I tangled my fingers in her auburn hair before taking the plunge and pulling down her knickers. She lifted her bottom from the sofa's edge so I could remove them, looping them over her ankles and feet. As I balled them into my hand I could feel the dampness on my palm. I was glad she was enjoying this just as much as I was.

I dropped her knickers on the floor and turned my attention to her breasts. I unhooked her bra revealing her pert boobs and nipples begging to be sucked.

My lips travelled down her neck and cleavage before I ran my tongue over her left nipple. She audibly gasped and arched her back, her delicate fingers working their way into my short red hair.

I slipped two fingers between her 'lips' and started to massage her clit. She groaned, her other hand holding and rubbing my left breast. My tongue darted over her nipple, I could feel it growing erect. I moved over to the other nipple, nipping it with my teeth before gathering my lips around it and sucking hard.

My fingers were maintaining a steady, rhythmic rub on her clit but I was starting to build in speed. Her juices were trickling onto the sofa, darkening the fabric and the smell of her was intoxicating. Lola's moans and groans were getting louder.

I began to slow down again, keeping her on the brink but not quite allowing her to reach orgasm. Then I removed myself from her body completely.

"Don't stop," she gasped. I just smiled and climbed onto the floor, nudging apart her legs.

I lowered my head towards her sex and delved my tongue between the lips, quickly finding her clit. I started with a long, slow stroke from her opening, up and over her clit. It pulsated and fluttered beneath me. Her hands were in my hair, grasping, clawing for something to hold onto.

My own knickers, by this time, were saturated and my skin tingled everywhere she touched. I flicked my tongue back and forth over her clit. I could feel Lola's thigh muscles beginning to tremble beneath my hands.

"Fuck me," she whispered. My tongue started to accelerate, my jaw beginning to ache. I took my right hand and inserted two fingers into her opening with one quick thrust. Her vaginal walls contracted around my digits and she cried out, her clit vibrating beneath my tongue.

I felt her blood rush around her body and her breath came in short ragged gasps as her grip on my hair slowly eased. Neither of us had time to utter words before there was a sharp knock on the door.

With acknowledgements to: Manilow B., Sussman B H. and Feldman JA.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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