"So, you up for some fun tonight?" asked Heather breathily into her phone. She was twirling her blonde hair, and feeling a bit horny.
"Sure," replied Carol, "I just got back from a shit day at work and could really do with a drink and some entertainment. But give me an hour to recover. How about that place in the City, the one with the glass dome, about 8?"
"Great, see you there," said Heather. "Don't forget to bring the gear!"
Carol took off the suit she wore for work, and wearing just her bra and panties, wandered into the kitchen of her small London flat to get a bottle of Chablis from the fridge. She took the corkscrew from the counter and gripped it firmly in her hand, screwing it in until it penetrated deep into the cork. As she pulled firmly, the tension steadily increased until the cork was released with a satisfied pop. She poured herself a large glass and took a slurp, swirling it around her mouth with her tongue to savour the intense, sharp flavours before eagerly gulping it down.
She took the glass of wine into the bathroom and put it on the shelf by the bath next to a couple of her favourite toys. She would bring them with her, as they might come in useful later. She turned on the taps and smiled at her slim, elegant figure in the mirror. Yes, she could have been an underwear model. As the bath filled, she unhooked her black, lacy 34B bra and slid the panties down over her smooth thighs. She took another shot of the wine and then lay down in the bath, sliding herself forward under the taps. Her knees fell open and she sighed contentedly as she felt the wine and the jet of water hit the right spot.
Heather got to the bar first, but hung around on the pavement of the busy street nearby, waiting for her friend. She was wearing a long coat to avoid attracting too much attention. It was a warm late summer evening and she watched the sunset behind the London skyline. She could see the silhouette of St. Paul's Cathedral, contrasting with the modern steel and glass buildings. Before too long she saw the familiar flowing, dark hair and long, tanned legs striding towards her. She felt a twinge of pleasure between her thighs. Carol looked so beautiful in her little black dress, with a large handbag swinging from her shoulder. She knew Carol was 100% straight, so her own bi-curious thoughts would have to remain as fantasies.
"Ooh, you look so hot," said Heather. Carol just smiled. It was a little joke between them, though she never really knew to what extent Heather really fancied her sexually, or if it was just a bit of fooling around and teasing. It did sometimes come in useful for them to pretend to be a lesbian couple, as a way of extricating themselves from situations that sometimes cropped up on their nights out together.
They pushed open the door of the grand building and went in. It was a former bank that had been converted into a smart bar, with a huge marble counter in the centre, pillars around the edge of the room, a balcony above, and a glass roof above that. It was a bit expensive, but that wasn't a problem. Heather and Carol knew that it was very unlikely that they'd have to pay for any drinks. As usual it was full of City types - stockbrokers, management consultants, merchant bankers, mostly men in suits, but a few women too.
As they walked into the room and across the floor, Heather slowly unbuttoned her coat and slid it off her shoulders, revealing her tight dress that clung to her full, hourglass figure and exposed her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. The bright white of her dress contrasted strikingly with Carol's black.
There was a noticeable drop in the volume of chatter. Eyes looked up, jaws dropped and cocks twitched at the sight of the two beautiful young women as they settled down on stools at the bar and crossed their legs. Heather picked up the drinks menu from the bar and slowly ran her finger down the list of pricey cocktails.
"Hmm, Cuban Pussy," she said, licking her lips, "I like the sound of that, don't you?"
"I think you know I'm not really into that sort of thing," replied Carol. "How about a Screaming Orgasm? Or maybe I'll get round to that later in the evening."
They continued to peruse the menu, waiting for the inevitable. It didn't take long.
"Gooood evening, lovely ladies, can I get you some drinks?" came a smarmy voice from over Heather's shoulder. Carol glanced up. She thought he was perfect for what they had in mind. Mid-thirties, shiny suit and tasteless bright yellow tie, smug grin, hair slicked back and already receding. And a wedding ring.
"Oh, all right," said Carol. They ordered some cocktails, choosing the more expensive ones but avoiding those with sexually suggestive names.
"Let me guess, you're a professional banker?" asked Carol.
Heather snorted with laughter - it was a term they used as a form of rhyming slang. She managed to turn her laugh into a cough, pretending that she had choked on her drink.
"Got it in one! Who's a clever girl then - not just a pretty face!" declared the sexist arsehole with great self-confidence. "I'm down in London for a few days, working on a big takeover deal. It's very important work."
"Oh, really? Sounds fascinating," said Carol. He was starting to remind her of her ex.
"Yes, it is," he continued, "I'm doing a lot of technical detail in the negotiations. We have to get the terms just right so the deal will be acceptable to the shareholders. So they don't realise they're being shafted."
Heather was struggling again, almost convulsed with laughter. The idiot hadn't realised that Carol was being sarcastic when she said his work sounded interesting.
"You OK dear?" he asked, putting his hand on Heather's bare shoulder.
"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, "my drink just went the wrong way."
"I'm James, by the way".
"Heather, and Carol," said Heather, pointing appropriately. She had now managed to recover her composure.
The conversation continued. He told them more about his work, still oblivious to the fact that they weren't remotely interested, and told some dire jokes. He asked a few things about them.
"How do you two know each other? Through work?"
"No, we've been friends ever since we were at school together," explained Heather, "Carol's cleverer than me, she got her high-powered job in publishing, while I'm just a secretary."
All the standard pick-up cliches came out. He even asked them, "Do you come here often?"
The boredom was alleviated by the fact that he seemed quite happy to continue buying them drinks. Heather was getting quite drunk. "I need some fooood!" she said, reaching for the menu but swaying and almost falling off her stool.
"Allow me to order you both something," he said.
"Oh, no, that's OK, we'll get our own food," said Carol.
"No, no, I insist," he said, waving his fat wallet around in the air.
"Oh, all right, if you insist, that's very kind of you James," said Heather, giving him a flirtatious pouty look, "I'll have a rare steak with chips. And a pint of London Pride."
James raised his eyebrows at what he thought was Heather's unladylike choice of food and drink, but placed the order along with a salad for Carol and a pie for himself. Heather continued to get more inebriated as they waited for the food to arrive, but when it did, she gobbled it down eagerly and seemed to sober up a bit.
When Carol excused herself and disappeared to the bathroom, James decided to seize the opportunity. He realised that these girls were out of his league, but he had spent quite a bit of money on them, so he reckoned it was worth a try. He thought his chances were best with the blonde, as she was clearly more drunk than her friend. He fancied her slightly more than the other one anyway. She had bigger tits, and he'd been staring at them all evening.
He leaned over to Heather, put his hand on her back and whispered into her ear, "I'm staying at a nice hotel just around the corner from here. I wonder if you'd like to come over. I think I might have a bottle of Scotch somewhere."
Things were going to plan, Heather thought. "Oh, um, I don't know if I should...," she said hesitantly.
Carol came back and reclaimed her seat.
"Carol, James has invited me back to his hotel."
"The thing is, James, Carol and I usually do everything together," she explained. She reached out her hand and put it on Carol's knee, then slowly slid it up her smooth, brown thigh until her fingers disappeared under the hem of Carol's little black dress.
"I know this is a bit unusual, and you probably won't like the idea, but would it be possible for Carol to come too?"
James felt like his cock was about to explode. He had thought he had an outside chance of pulling one of these gorgeous women. Now it seemed that one of his top fantasies, a threesome in a hotel room with two beautiful bisexual girls, was about to become a reality. It almost seemed too good to be true.
He gulped, his jaw dropped, and his eyes bulged. "Err, yes, ok, if Carol would like to come too, that would be fine," he stammered, trying, but failing utterly, to sound calm about the idea.
"But hang on," said Carol, frowning and pointing at his hand, "you're married!"
Heather joined in the feigned shock and surprise. "What?! You're married? Oh, well, in that case, I really don't think we should."
Shit. Bugger. How could he have been so stupid as to forget to take his wedding ring off?
"Oh, well, yes, but, you see, um, my wife and I, we, err, we have a very, kind of, open marriage. I mean, who knows what she is up to right now, eh?" he floundered, looking down at his shoes. He wasn't a good liar.
"Hmm, I'm not sure," said Carol, "can we call her and check she's OK with this?"
