For the next week I thought about my new friend Colleen a lot, while I was away on a brief business trip. Actually, I'll confess I didn't think about much else. I turned over in my mind how I had met her on a commuter train and had her show me her breast before I even knew her name; how we had enjoyed seeing and touching each other's bodies, and those of others, getting acquainted at my friend John's secluded E-club; how vivacious and adventurous she was; and how we had talked frankly on the way back to the city. Her openness with her body and with her emotions had me hooked. Of course, being gorgeous didn't hurt.
We talked on the phone every night, and as soon as I got back home we arranged to meet for coffee downtown, where it turned out that we worked only a few blocks apart. When I arrived Colleen was already seated at a table against the wall, wearing a tight mid-thigh skirt and a simple blue cotton blouse that buttoned in the front. The way she bounced when she saw me, it was clear she wasn't wearing a bra.
I told her how glad I was to see her again, and what a wonderful time I'd had with her at the club. She said that she enjoyed it too. We leaned in close, across the tiny cafΓ© table. I offered her some of the foam from my cappuccino on the little Italian spoon; she took it and got some on her lips and nose. "Do you like the way I look with white stuff on my face?"
I knew Colleen well enough by now to know that she would be titillated, not offended, when I answered, "I think you'd look even better with some of my own white stuff on your face."
Already the rest of the shop, the noise and bustle, had disappeared for us. I was lost in Colleen's overwhelming femininity. Her way of tilting her head and raising her eyebrows makes me melt and sizzle. Urgently she whispered in my ear, "I've got something to show you. Let's trade seats so I'm facing the wall."
After we moved, she looked me in the eye and slowly began unbuttoning her blouse. With each button I told her how sexy she was and encouraged her to keep going. When she was finished she took one of the button panels in each hand and pulled them forward and out like double doors, exposing her whole chest so that I could see everything, but no one else could. The setup was perfect. Colleen's nipples swelled and took form with her excitement, her chest heaving as she breathed hard. "I can't do this much longer - other people will start to notice, and they might give me a hard time."
The blouse closed, but Colleen left it unbuttoned. I was having a hard time already, so I adjusted my pants, unobtrusively I hoped. She noticed, with a subtle, uneasy smile. "Brad, I'm inviting you to come with me on a very special visit tomorrow."
Colleen left her blouse unbuttoned until we got outside. Even after all we had done at the E-club, and her exhibition a few minutes before, it gave us both a thrill. I spotted her bra, balled up in her purse. Then I told her about something she hadn't noticed - there was a mirror high on the wall of the coffee shop, and several guys had stopped behind her to enjoy her public display of bare breasts in the reflection. When I said that she shivered and grabbed my arm more tightly, thrilled at the display and the risk. "What's wrong with me? Why do I get damp when strangers see my tits, or my pussy?"
The next evening we approached a nondescript house in a nondescript neighborhood, not where I would have expected Colleen to take me. As we walked up the battered porch steps, she warned me, "It wasn't easy to get you invited. I had to vouch for you. It's way more extreme than your friend's club - the guy who lives here, Jake, specializes in having sex with strangers. I met him at another club. It might get pretty rough. I hope you can handle it."
Even if I couldn't, I wasn't about to admit it. "Let's go for it. But does that mean you'll be having sex in there, with that guy?"
"That's what it means. I'm sorry, Brad. For the rest, you'll see inside. And I'm getting horny already, just being at the door, I can't help it."
Colleen squeezed my hand, but let go when the door opened. We were greeted by a large, rough-looking man with a shaved head and lots of tattoos, the sort of guy you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley. Barefoot, he wore a sleeveless t-shirt and black leather pants. He eyed Colleen, then me, asking her, "Is this your guy?"
"Yes."
"Ok, come on in, but he'll have to behave."
In the small, sparsely furnished living room we encountered two other men, equally rough and threatening. Colleen jumped when she saw them. "These are two of my buddies, babe. They're going to do you too."