Another Friday night; trapped within the same four walls, sitting on the couch watching TV. One thing was certain: the longer I sat there, the older I got. Life was passing me by. Enough is enough.

It had been a year since my husband declared he didn't want to be married to me any more. He’d left for someone much younger. I guess it was his midlife crisis. Who knows? What I did know, I had to stop wasting my life. I had to get out. No, I needed to get out. I needed to start living again.

Okay, so that was decided. But where to go? I’d been married most of my adult life. Honestly, I had no idea what went on in the "real world" any more. What does a single woman do? Where does she go? Come on, think about it. Hmm…

Maybe dinner. I could dress up and go to a nice restaurant. But was that what I really wanted? No, I wanted company, male company. Time to face the truth, no beating about the bush: I wanted to be desired. Okay, I might be older, but I sure as hell wasn't dead.

I’d always been the "good girl.” Well, I wanted a change, I wanted to be the "bad girl”… I wanted to have some fun! So, still not sure where I’d be going or what I’d do on this night out, I started with a shower, shaved my legs and armpits and trimmed my pussy hair. So far, so good.

I walked into my bedroom. What should I wear? How did I want to look? Casual, smart or dressy? Was it a jeans night? Or did I really want to be daring. I decided on daring. Why not? I wanted fun.

I went to my closet and began to look for something sexy, even revealing. I found the perfect outfit.

Everyone knows the little black dress works every time. I found my matching black lace panties and bra set. I pulled the panties up my legs and over my hips and round butt. I turned around, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Not bad. Now for the bra. I had decent-sized, firm breasts and I certainly didn't need any help in that area.

I went to put on my dress and realized the bra straps would be on show. I thought that I either had to find something else to wear or get rid of the bra. But I really wanted to wear the little black number. So, since this was a daring night, I removed the bra.

The silky, thin material of the dress felt really good as it slithered over my near-naked body, especially on my nipples. I felt them get hard and, looking in the mirror, they were clearly protruding beneath the dress. Now that is daring.

I slid my feet into my black heels. I’m quite short at five foot and the shoes not only made me seem taller but they also made my legs look longer. I took another look at myself in the mirror. With my short blonde spiky hair and long black ear rings, I looked pretty good. Not bad for a 54-year-old woman.

I walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine, still trying to decide where I should go. I’d left the TV switched on and, as if by fate, I heard something about a new club that had opened not too far from where I lived. I didn’t hear what age-group it catered for but, if I didn't like it, I could always leave. That’s it, then, venue sorted!

I grabbed a coat and out the door I went. I started my car and, suddenly, fear crept in. What in the world was I doing? Going out alone to a club! A club I knew nothing about! I sat for a few seconds, staring through my windscreen. Then I sat up, straightened my spine. Come on, you can do this. Right! I was dressed and ready to go. I was going. I pulled out of the driveway and headed off to find this new club.

As I pulled up, I saw people of various ages heading for the door. This might be okay. I used the valet parking and I entered the club and checked my coat. I had a quick glance around as I walked over to the bar. The bartender came over and asked what I would like.

"Glass of red wine, please."

He walked away and soon returned with my drink. I took a sip, still looking around and I was pleased to confirm that people of all ages were here. I felt very comfortable and, within minutes, I felt myself swaying to the music as I watched the dancers on the crowded floor.

As I sipped my drink and swayed my hips to the dance tunes, a young man came up from behind me and asked me to dance. I hesitated; I was old enough to be his mother. But, why not? What’s the harm? It’s just a dance.

I followed him onto the dance floor. He put an arm around my waist and pulled me in close, very close! I was a bit shocked, but maybe it was the new way. I couldn't know, it had been so long since I’d been out dancing at a club. So, I put my arm around his shoulder and we began to dance. Truthfully, I was a bit lost as it was not really a slow number, yet we weren't really dancing: we were just kind of swaying to the music.

When the song ended, I let go of him but he kept his arm around my waist, looking into my eyes. I had to admit he was very good looking, but I was so much older than him. He asked me to dance again.

“Sure, why not?” I said.

The music was slower this time. Again he pulled me close and we swayed to the music. It seemed just the lower half of our bodies moved. We stared into each other’s eyes, and he held me even closer. I almost couldn't breathe. An odd thought crossed my mind: if I had a son, he would probably be this age.

At the end of the song, I pulled away, thanked him and went back to my seat at the bar. A few minutes later another glass of wine was delivered to me. I asked where it came from and the bar tender pointed to my dance partner. He was standing at the end of the bar. I raised my glass, mouthed, ‘Thank you.’ And quickly turned away.

Minutes later I was aware of someone at my back, standing very close. I looked along to the end of the bar and the young guy had gone. I knew then it was him behind me. I went to stand and he put his arms either side me and rested his hands on the bar. I couldn't move or get up. Trapped!

"Don't move."

“I'm sorry but I need to get up. What are you doing?"

"I felt your reaction to me as we were dancing."

"I don't know what you were feeling, but it was just a dance." I took a deep breath.”Now, please, I want to get up.”

He dropped one of his arms, and I stood.

"It was just a dance,” I said, turning to look into his face. “Please, leave me alone." I began to walk away.

"You didn't even tell me your name."

"And I’m not going to."

I kept walking to the ladies room. I was the only woman in there as I checked my make up and hair. I took a deep breath and started to reapply lip gloss. I heard the door open and, reflected in the mirror, I saw the same young man had come in.

I put away my lip gloss and walked towards the door. He was standing in front of it, blocking my path. I stopped, looked at him.

"Please move,” I said quietly.

"I just want to get to know you,” he said, still not moving. “My name is Paul."

“Well, thank you Paul, but I think I know all I want to know about you. Please, stand aside. Anyway, you shouldn’t be here in the ladies room.”

He didn’t move, just looked at me. My thoughts were running wild. What was really on this young guy’s mind? What did he want? What was he going to do?

Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulders, spun me around and pushed me against the door, swiftly pinning my arms above my head. With a surprisingly strong grip, he held my wrists in one hand and his other hand came down and stroked my cheek. His fingertips went on a journey which, in different circumstances, might have been sensual. He caressed my chin and throat and tickled down to my chest, where he played with the scooped neckline of my dress. I breathed heavily as the backs of his fingers brushed lightly, almost casually, against my heaving breasts.

Then his hand drifted down - slowly, tantalisingly - rubbing over my tummy and on to reach between my legs. I gasped!

"What are you doing?"

I tried to pull down my arms but he was too strong for me. He pressed my hands against the door and, at the same time, forced his free hand between my clamped, shaking thighs and cupped my pussy mound.

"Be still,” he ordered and grinned. “You want this. Look how you're dressed. No bra, silky little black dress clinging to your body. You came here looking for some action, didn't you?"

“No," I stammered. Okay, maybe that wasn't the whole truth. I wanted fun and wanted to be desired. But this?

His hand left my pussy, and I suddenly missed the pressing warmth of his palm. But he cupped my breasts, one after the other, squeezing them, kneading them. My nipples quickly hardened, forming erotic visible points within my thin bodice. What was my body doing? Why was it reacting this way? This young man was little more than a boy, so much younger than me. But, as he continued kneading my breast and pinching my nipples, I couldn't help myself. My body caved in. I wanted this young man. And he knew it. He had control.

His hand again smoothed down my body, this time boldly slipping under my dress.

I didn’t resist when he parted my thighs. I panted hot breath into his neck as his fingers rubbed along my mound. I couldn't stop myself reacting, from succumbing to his touch. And when he eased his hand inside my panties, I welcomed him, the feel of his fingers on my hot flesh. Deftly, he inserted a finger inside my cunt.

"Yes, nice and wet for me,” he whispered in my ear.

My body quivered as he finger-fucked me hard and fast. I moaned, gasped, and my trembling knees began to give way. As I slumped, he released his hold on my wrists, and I tottered on my heels as he quickly he helped me across the room. Moving behind me, he bent me forwards over the sink and lifted my dress over my hips until it bunched around my waist. He pulled my panties down to my ankles, and I heard his zipper. Oh my god, he’s gonna fuck me! I needed to stop him. Yet my body craved him. I so wanted to be fucked.

With one quick thrust he was inside. And deep. He pumped vigorously, thrusting hard from the start, without finesse. It seemed he was only concerned with his own primal needs and I was just a receptacle, a sheath for his throbbing erection. He drove up and down my tunnel, slapping against my ass, taking what he wanted. All I could do was press my hands against the wall mirror... and enjoy this unexpected, furious fuck.

"Yes, yes, fuck me… fuck me hard,” I yelled, not thinking or caring if anyone could hear me.

Amazingly, he responded by fucking faster and harder. I brought one hand to my sensitive, hard nipples and pinched and pulled them.

"You like this, don't you slut?”

His words rang in my ear. Was I a slut? I couldn't think about that at that moment. I needed to cum. Needed him to make me cum with his mighty organ, and I began to push back hard on him.

Soon, his thighs tensed against my legs, I heard him growl and his cock expanded. Oh god, he was about to cum!

“No , not yet,” I begged and pushed harder against him. I wanted to cum, I wanted my orgasm, my release. But he gave one more hard thrust and he pulsated, shooting his load, filling my hot cunt with his seeds.

Seconds later, he pulled out and slapped my ass. "Nice fuck lady,” he said as he tucked his still stiff cock inside his pants and zipped them closed. He looked at my reflection in the mirror and walked out of the room.

I was left standing there, desperate to cum but with only his semen running down my thighs. Bastard!

I sighed and began cleaning myself the best I could. I straightened my clothes, fingered my hair into place and walked out of the door. Instantly, I spotted him standing at the bar with another woman. The bastard doesn’t waste any time.
 
To my surprise, they raised their glasses to me and smiled.

I walked to the other end of the bar and ordered another glass of wine. Then I started to question myself. What am I doing still here? Why don't I go home?

As I was thinking and sipping my drink, I watched the couple walking toward me. I was angry. I was frustrated.

He smiled at me.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"What do you care?"

"We do care,” the woman said.

Now I was puzzled. What was going on? I frowned at the woman. The look on her face suggested that she was truly concerned about me. But what about him? He was still grinning at me.

"Ask your boyfriend there,” I spit out.

The woman ignored him but offered her hand to me. “Deanna," she said. I ignored her hand but she said, "Come on, come to the bathroom and I will help you to calm down."

What was this lady thinking? Another trip to that bathroom? No thanks!

I gulped my wine and indicated to the bartender that I wanted another. The bartender brought my drink and set it down in front of me. He also brought me a shot of something.

“I thought you might need this,” he said, giving me a brief smile. I looked at him, confused, and he walked away. But he was right, I did need it. Between what had just happened, and the burning in my pussy, yes I needed a good drink. My cunt was still on fire and I desperately needed to cum. Frustrated didn't begin to explain how I felt. I was up there on the ceiling, screaming.

I had a couple more drinks, hoping to settle down. All the while the couple sat beside me, talking to me. I tried to tune them out. They offered only chit-chat, nothing of consequence, and ignoring what had happened in the ladies room. I couldn't figure out what was going on. What was their relationship? Were they really together?

I needed to pee. I started to stand but wobbled on my heels. I was a light-headed. I guess all the wine and shots was a bit too much. I certainly wasn’t used to so much drink.

Deanna stood and got hold of my arm. “Here, I will help you to the ladies room."

I wasn't in a position to refuse her help. I held her arm and walked very slowly to the ladies room. She held open the door, and I walked over to one of the stalls to pee. She followed me, and I told her I could manage without her, thank you very much.

But she didn’t move, just stood there, staring at me with a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. Well, I couldn't hold it any longer, I had to go. So I let my flow go. I wiped myself, pulled up my panties and flushed the toilet before walking over to the sink.

Everything came flooding back, what had happened just a short time ago at this very sink. I tried to shake it from my mind. As I washed my hands, Deanna came behind me, and put her hands on my ass.

I quickly turned around. “Don’t touch me,” I said.

She smiled broadly, a knowing look in her eyes. "You know you still need to cum."

Then I knew: they were together. She knew everything. And, damn, she was so right, I did need to cum. Her hands cupped my breasts and I half-heartedly tried to push her away. Again my body was reacting. Damn my body. Suddenly, the door opened and the young man entered - again! I looked from him to her.

"What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

“We're attracted to you,” she said, her thumbs running across my erect nipples, “the way you’re dressed, the way you carry yourself. Swaying to the music. Holding tight onto Paul as you danced. We knew what you needed."

Swiftly, taking me by surprise, Deanna pulled down my panties and pushed my legs apart. Paul sat on the sink unit and Deanna pushed my head towards his lap and his cock was thrust between my lips, into my mouth.

I tried it pull back but Paul held my head in place, and then I had something else to consider. Deanna had squatted between my legs and was now sucking, licking and pulling on my pussy lips. I definitely couldn't stop her, I so needed to cum. I didn't care any more. I began grinding her face, and sucking Paul's cock.

Paul had his hands on the side of my face and took control, fucking my mouth and pushing his big thick cock to the back of my throat. I gagged. That seemed to turn him on more, and he pushed harder until my saliva was running down my chin.

Deanna's tongue was poking my pussy, licking and lapping. Oh my god, I’m gonna cum at last!

Paul continued face-fucking me but I concentrated on what Deanna was doing. She eased two fingers into my soaking cunt and began to fuck me hard and fast while she chewed on my swollen clit.

Now, finally, thankfully, I started to cum. And how I came! My pussy went into violent spasms, shuddering orgasmic wave after climatic wave flowing through my whole body. I shook and trembled, my knees almost giving way.

Paul's cum splashed into my mouth, and he yelled at me to swallow. I drank as fast as I could but, hey, fuck him! This was my turn.

Paul pulled his cock from my mouth and, at the same time, Deanna stood up from between my legs. She smiled, her face covered in my juice, and Paul leaned over and kissed her, tasting my juices.

Paul then told us to lick and suck his cock clean. We did as ordered, and I felt my juices running down my legs. I was a mess. I was tired, my body weary, and I just wanted to go home.

I walked out of the bathroom, leaving Deanna and Paul, and had the bartender call me a cab. I’d had far too much to drink to drive, and the bartender said my car would be safe in the valet parking. I could collect it tomorrow night. I shrugged. Whatever, I just want to get home now.

Back home, I started to undress the minute I was inside. That didn’t take long and I ran a hot bath. Sitting in the tub, everything that happened in the club flooded my brain. And I asked myself questions.

Was that the fun? Was it what I wanted? Why did I do that? Did I enjoy it?

I soaked in the tub until I realized the water had cooled. I got out, toweled dry, put on a T-shirt and climbed into bed.

My body was sore. I simply wanted to sleep and forget what happened. Exhausted, I’d drifted to the edge of sleep when my eyes suddenly shot open. I’d remembered: I’ve got to go back to the club tomorrow night. My car’s there…