First off, let me say sorry. We’ve met before although you might not realise it. Last time, I was telling you all about my adventures with lonely housewife Helen, but I never got around to introducing myself. My name is Maz. Okay, that’s not exactly my name but it’s what everyone calls me. My real name is Daisy May, which I loathe, and is something I curse my parents for on a daily basis. Luckily, I have one of those ditzy friends who keeps getting their words mixed up and one drunken night in the pub she called me Maisy Day. Everyone, including me, just fell about and it somehow stuck as a name which over time got shortened to Maz.

But enough of me. You had my story last time. This time, I want to tell you about Sandra. Hers is an important story as she started the whole back room, Thursday night thing going. I used to have this lovely girlfriend that was everything I could possibly desire but as usual, I managed to spoil things big time. I will now admit that we split up because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself and I went a little bit crazy for a while over another woman. Looking back, it was so obviously a stupid mistake. Everyone could see it apart from love-struck me. In the end, I got dumped and the bitch ran off never to be seen again.

I was in recovery from that disaster and had found myself a new friend. She was new enough to still be uncertain when I first met Sandra. It is all down to her that we have our little meetings once a week in the back room of the pub. She’s the sort of matriarch of the group. She’s by far the oldest and undoubtedly the nicest by far. I came across her one night when I was out with Trish, the new lady friend but soon to be the latest ex, trying to have a quiet drink and a bite to eat one night.

We found ourselves in a pub in a quiet backstreet near the town centre and settled ourselves into a corner on a table for two. After a while we became aware of the two women at the table next to ours. I had a better view of them than Trish and they began to intrigue me. At first I’d assumed they were a mother and daughter, but little nuances of their body language began to tell a different story. Maybe my gaydar was hyper-sensitive that night. I gave them both the quick once-over. The older of the two was maybe in her late forties, possibly even older and her hair, which was pulled back into a pony-tail, was already grey. Her face was very slightly wrinkled but there was something in her manner and her smile that made her attractive.

Her companion was at least twenty years younger if not more. I guessed at very late teens or very early twenties. She was also petite and unbelievably gorgeous. Together they made a very unlikely couple. Not that I can talk. I’ll own up to 42 and Trish was only 26 so it was clear we both had a liking for younger women. I don’t know who started it but sometime during dinner we found ourselves chatting with them. Something seemed to click. Once the plates were cleared away, we rearranged ourselves and dragged the two tables next to each other and settled in for a jolly evening.

She introduced herself as Sandra and her ‘friend’ was called Naomi. The young girl was as bubbly and giggly as she was pretty. Very soon she and Trish were nattering away like a pair of school-mates and Sandra and I were having a rather more sedate conversation. It soon became obvious that, by some extraordinary stroke of luck, we had bumped into the only other lesbian couple in town. The wine flowed a little too freely and when I stood up the room started to feel a little fuzzy. I think Sandra was feeling pretty much the same as she linked her arm with mine when we got outside, and we supported each other as we walked along. There seemed to be an unspoken arrangement to go back to her place for a nightcap and I wasn’t in any state to argue. We walked several paces behind the two girls and the double set of swaying arses was hypnotic and forced us to follow. Sandra leant her mouth close to my ear.

“I see you have the same tastes as me,” and she nodded her head in the direction of the two in front.

“You’re a very lucky woman,” I replied, “yours is absolutely gorgeous.”

“You’ve not done too badly yourself,” she said in a quiet whisper and we both giggled. “Do you fancy a bit of fun when we get back to mine?”

I wasn’t expecting that but, coming as it did through my alcoholic haze, it seemed a reasonable question. “What did you have in mind?”

“Not sure but I’m sure we can think of something.”

And she fell silent. We spent the rest of the short walk simply admiring the pair of pretty bottoms in front of us. The girls, of course, had no idea that they were the object of our admiration nor that some sort of fun was being plotted that would probably involve them. Suddenly, Naomi guided Trish to a front door of a small Victorian terraced house and they waited for us to catch up. The area we were in had been gentrified in more recent times and the houses had probably doubled in value over the last few years. They were all neat and tidy and freshly painted. I found myself standing outside one with a dark mahogany door with a lion’s head knocker and a polished brass ‘44’ proudly displayed.

“Welcome to my home,” Sandra declared, as she held the door open for us to pass. Naomi led us through into a neat, and quite old-fashioned little living room with an archway at one end that led to a thoroughly modern kitchen. Sandra bustled in behind me, now comfortable in her own domain. She went up to Naomi and kissed her on the cheek and asked her to fetch a bottle and some glasses from the kitchen before settling herself on one end of an old-style sofa. She beckoned me and patted the seat beside her. I sat down, leaving Trish still standing and looking a little lost in a space near the door.

“Come and sit between us, my dear,” Sandra said in a kindly voice.

Trish came over and squeezed onto the sofa. I could tell she felt a little awkward, but we were guests after all, so I kept my peace. Naomi emerged from the kitchen carrying a bottle of white wine and four glasses which she put on a side table. She poured out four drinks which she handed round.

“Pretty little thing isn’t she,” Sandra commented as she took her glass.

“She is,” I replied, somewhat taken aback by the comment. It wasn’t a lie by any means as the young girl was undoubtedly pretty. In fact, pretty would be an understatement.

Naomi sat on the arm of the sofa next to Sandra who started to stroke her bare thigh where it emerged from under her short skirt. It seemed to be a blatant show of possessiveness and ownership which I found quite odd as most of Sandra’s attention seemed to be focussed on Trish.

“Your young friend is very pretty as well,” she said, speaking to me but looking straight at Trish, “you’re a lucky woman.”

“I think so,” I replied, wondering where the conversation was going.

Sandra was suddenly decisive, and she patted Naomi on the leg.

“Why don’t you show our visitors the dance you’ve been practising, I’m sure they’d love to see it.”

Naomi blushed and looked pleadingly at Sandra who simply smiled back and nodded. With an air of resignation Naomi stood up and went over to a shelf that housed a collection of CDs, searched through and then found what she was looking for. I didn’t recognise the song, but it was slow and with a heavy beat and filled the room with a sultry air. Naomi stayed with her back to us for some time swaying in time to the music and I admired the way she moved her hips. It was both hypnotic and seductive at the same time. Then she turned and walked to the middle of the room. But she didn’t stop there. She came two or three steps further until she stood directly in front of me. Her eyes were closed but she still swayed in time and her hands traced over the contours of her body. Small peaks of her nipples showed as she stretched her top tightly across her small breasts. She played with the hem of her top, lifting it slightly to reveal glimpses of her golden skin and her pierced navel with its glinting red jewel. It was then that I started to realise that I was to be the object of her dance and a small tremor went through me.

What sort of dance became clear when she lifted her top over her head and threw it behind her. She had no need of a bra and she displayed her small tits with their pink nipples, by cupping and lifting them and rolling her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. I heard a gasp from Trish and glanced sideways. She was sat there with her mouth agape, seemingly oblivious to Sandra’s hand on her thigh. Much later I thought that this should have been the time to make our excuses and leave but when I looked back at Naomi all my resolve withered away. Still dancing to the pounding beat she was now playing with the hem of her short skirt, swirling it in time to the music and lifting it to give tantalizing glimpses of a pair of pink panties.

She had drifted even closer to me and when she bent forward to ease her skirt over her bottom her face was nearly touching mine and I could feel her hot breath on my cheek. Her skirt fell to the floor and she stepped out of it and kicked it away. In doing so she came even closer and now her panty covered pussy was inches away. I could clearly see the cleft of her pussy lips through the fabric which was clearly showing signs of moisture. My own pussy gave an involuntary twinge in response. I know my reaction was somehow wrong but lots of things had become irrelevant. I was helpless to object when she put her hands on my knees and pushed them apart. She then made the most amazing and agile dance move I’ve ever seen. She swooped low, almost out of my sight before, curving her body sinuously like a snake, her face rose between my knees. I felt her naked nipples rasp along my thighs as her face flowed past mine, close enough for me to feel the heat from her cheeks and smell the wine still lingering on her breath.

And then she was upright again and turning from me but still standing between my legs. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties and with the now classic dancer’s move she bent away from me, thrusting her back side even closer and slid them over her arse and down. As she stepped out of them one foot at a time she moved her legs so that she now stood either side of my thighs opening herself up fully to display herself to me. Her hands came back and grasped each of her butt cheeks and she moved them in circular movements, allowing me flashes of her little rose-bud and making her wet pussy wink at me. In the middle of all this I heard the faintest of grunts next to me and out of the corner of my eye I could see that Sandra’s hand was now buried to the wrist under Trish’s skirt. I could see the fabric moving rhythmically and could guess what was happening.

But my concentration was elsewhere. When Naomi straightened up, she lowered herself to sit on my lap and leant back against me. Her hips and arse still moved to the music and she was grinding herself into my crotch. Of its own accord, my pussy was responding, and I could feel my own panties soaking up my juices. Naomi took my hands and placed them on her breasts and moved them round and round and I felt her stiff nipples rub harshly against my palms. Under my hands her breasts seemed even smaller than when she had first revealed them to me. My hands are small, yet they easily contained each soft breast.

With an insistence I was helpless to deny, my right hand was dragged away and was forced lower. I felt a growing warmth under my fingertips and then they were pushed into the dampness of her pussy. They were guided up and down her labia and then forced between them and on into the wet secrets of her cunt. My eyes were closed, and I happily allowed her to do as she pleased. My hand was pulled free and lifted up to her face and I felt my fingers being stroked along her soft lips before they were sucked into her mouth. I felt her tongue sliding around them, savouring herself.

Suddenly her weight was gone from my lap and I opened my eyes to find her facing me. I sat frozen to the seat but had no time to wonder what was to come next. She moved even closer and climbed onto the sofa to kneel either side of my legs. She was kneeling straight up, and her cunt was inches from my face. It was one of the prettiest cunts it had ever been my pleasure to be this close to. Neat and naked but glistening with a ‘come-hither’ invitation. She placed a hand either side of my head and began to sway backwards and forwards, thrusting her bare cunt so close to me I could smell the musky odour of her arousal. And then she thrust it into my face. My nose and mouth smelt and tasted it and I flicked out my tongue to lick at the divine offering, but it was taken away almost immediately. And she was gone!

I felt her weight disappear from the sofa as she slipped to the floor. Her hands on my knees forced my legs apart and a line of kisses made their way up the inside of my thighs. My body was already betraying me as I could sense the wetness of my panties. I was past caring and shuddered when her mouth came in contact with the thin covering. The sensations she produced were amazing and I simply sat back and revelled in her attentions. I felt my panties being tugged hungrily to one side and the first magical touch of her tongue on my lips. I very nearly came there and then but somehow managed to force the impending tidal wave back down. Somehow I held on for several passes of her eager tongue, but it was a losing battle. When her lips and tongue found my clit and sucked and licked at it I was gone.

It was an orgasm unlike any other, it kept on and on, wave after wave, as she relentlessly played with me. I heard strange animal noises and realised they were coming from me. I had gone to some other world where only my pussy existed. My pussy and her ever-playful tongue.

Little by little she eased up and I started to return to reality. In the distance the music still played and once more I became part of the room. I opened my eyes, confused at first with the unfamiliar surroundings and then memories slowly returned. I looked down and she was smiling up at me, her chin resting on my thighs, her grin wet with my juices.

“Happy?” she asked and all I could manage in reply was a slow nod of my head. I had the strange feeling that I had forgotten how to speak. I glanced around and found, to my surprise, that we were alone. I had no idea when Sandra and Trish had left or where they were.

Naomi saw my concerned look. “Its ok, Sandra took her upstairs, she’s in safe hands.”

I looked at her, not quite knowing what to do with that snippet of information.

“It looks like your girlfriend is staying the night so you might as well,” she announced, “we can use the spare room. Come on.”

And with that she pushed herself up and stood before me, her hand outstretched. Automatically, I reached for it and was hauled to my feet. I was way beyond questioning what the fuck I was doing going off with people I’d only just met and simply gave myself up to the adventure. It felt perfectly normal to be climbing a strange set of stairs hand in hand with a naked girl. On the landing we passed a door, firmly shut against the outside world but from which could be heard strange grunting and moaning noises.

“Someone seems to be enjoying themselves,” said Naomi jokingly and she grinned and winked at me as she led me further along to another door. The room was small but pleasant and was dominated by a double bed. I heard the click of the latch as she shut the door and then stood dumbly allowing her to undress me. We were soon snuggled under the duvet our arms wrapped around each other. My mind was still in a bit of a whirl, but I knew two things for certain. I wanted at least one other orgasm and I wanted her to have several as well. It was the least I could do to repay her. God knows what time we got to sleep but I achieved both ambitions before we finally gave up.

It wasn’t till the morning that I started to wonder how Trish was. I woke to the glare of the sun coming through the window. We had forgotten to close the curtains last night. From somewhere below me I heard the faint domestic clatter of things happening in the kitchen. I rolled over to find that I was alone in the bed. My dismay was short-lived as the door opened and Naomi came in. She was wearing a short silk bathrobe. She held out another towards me.

“You can put this on for now,” she told me, “coffee’s brewing in the kitchen. The loo’s right opposite.” She dropped the bathrobe on the bed and leant down and kissed me on the lips. “See you down there.”

She turned and skipped out of the room. It seemed I had no choice, so I swung my legs over the side of the bed and put on the bathrobe. It did a barely adequate job of covering my embarrassment. The bathroom was cool, and I sat on the toilet and let my mind linger over what had happened. Somehow, I managed to convince myself that it hadn’t been a dream and that I really had spent the night with a stranger. Not just spent the night but used the time to make passionate love and both give and receive some absolutely mind-blowing orgasms. I felt sticky between my legs, but I felt I ought to ask first before using their shower. Besides I had a craving for coffee like I’d never had before.

In the kitchen Sandra was busy at the cooker and Naomi was sat at the counter nursing a cup of coffee. Next to her was Trish looking totally happy and damply fresh from a shower but, ever the exhibitionist, wearing only a bathrobe round her waist and leaving herself topless. When she saw me, she leapt from her seat with a squeal of delight and came over to put her arms round me. When she stepped back her nose was wrinkled with mock disgust.

“Wow, babe, you need a shower. No hiding what you got up to last night.”

“You can shower in a while,” came the commanding voice of Sandra, “have some coffee and some breakfast first. We’ll all hold our noses for now.”

With embarrassed shame, I seated myself at the counter and a cup of coffee was placed in front of me. After a breakfast of bacon and eggs and a second cup of coffee, I finally got into the shower. I managed to find my clothes and, even though they were a bit crumpled, I had no choice but to put them on. By the time I returned downstairs Trish was also dressed and we said our goodbyes and left soon after having swapped phone numbers and agreeing to meet up again soon. We did meet again on several occasions, but it was never quite the same. We never did repeat that first time, but our meetings evolved into our Thursday evening group that slowly expanded as we each brought new women along. Trish was strangely secretive about her time with Sandra, but she’s promised to write it all down for me. We shall see …