I sat alone at the hotel bar, looking around to see what the party-goers were like and if they had taken to the theme. Retro clothing, anything from the twenties, to the seventies. The seventies, that decade that fashion forgot. Thank God, no one had been that crass. The only good thing that came out of the seventies were the two girls from ABBA. Now I would happily be the meat in a Scandinavian Smorgasbord with those two.
Across the room was a woman. Our eyes met, and in that instant, a connection flashed between us. She was openly appraising me, a challenge in her look. I held her gaze, then my drink arrived, so I broke eye contact to sign the bar check.
When I looked up, she had made her move and was halfway across the floor on a direct path towards me. I like strong, confident women, but this one was different. I've always considered the phrase "she was as graceful as a panther", to be just that, a phrase. However, this woman epitomised the saying. She was gliding towards me with a fluid, confident grace. She appeared to be just like a panther stalking its prey. The thing was, I didn't intend to be her prey. That is my usual role, predator, seducer and dominator.
As she continued her approach, I realised another cliche, she was sex walking. Every sway of her sinuous body oozed sex, she was every mans sexual dream walking. She knew it, but it was natural, not put on. She knew the effect she was having on everyone who was watching her. Plenty were wondering what my response would be to such a brazen approach.
Never one to be intimidated, I held her gaze until she stood directly in front of me.
"I assume you've come over to admire my outfit?" I said as an introduction, "I just adore that twenties flapper style you're wearing. It suits you so well, and your hair is perfect in that little bob. Very sexy, it frames your face perfectly."
"Ditto for the classic sixties outfit you're carrying off so well. I'm Sharon."
"Frankie," I replied.
Sharon was wearing a classic 1920's flapper dress in emerald silk. It was loosely fitted to her body, so it shimmied and swayed as she moved. It had been tailored to her expertly. Instead of the shapeless silhouette of the original flapper style, this was contoured to complement and showcase her body without losing that simple flapper look. The top was held up by a thin strap that curved up and around her slender neck. The bodice was cut just above her small boobs, but low enough to give a hint of cleavage. Once again, expertly fitted. If it hadn't been, her boobs would have been exposed at the side every-time she moved. It then swooped down and back to end just above her waist, leaving all her back and half of her sides bare. The handkerchief hem was jagged, up and down in height. Giving more than a hint of her thigh to compliment her slim calves and dainty ankles.
She wore a pearl choker around her neck, a headband set with a single, ruby red stone, in the middle was worn like a tiara. Her raven hair was cut in a bob. Wide, almost almond-shaped green eyes that matched her dress had fine lines just showing at the sides when she smiled. Her ruby lips matching the stone in her headband were painted in the shape of a small bow. Again following the style of the 1920s.
She was tall and slender and carried both the dress and the overall look to perfection. Even though this wasn't part of the plan for the evening, I knew I wanted her. I had to have her.
"Is that dress Chanel?"
"Of course, and your's Quant, but I think Ginger Group, rather than the main line."
"TouchΓ©."
She had me there, my outfit was a crocheted micro dress in burnt orange. I'd teamed it with a pair of white knee-high, kinky boots. I'd not bothered with tights. I just don't like them, and the dress was way too short for either stockings or hold-ups. After all, it was a Mary Quant minidress.
My blonde hair was pulled back in a simple loose ponytail. I hadn't bothered to wear any makeup, apart from a little eyeliner to emphasise my violet eyes. I'd gone for the young girl look. Not quite, girl next door, but something similar. After a while, Sharon smiled at me and said, "I don't know whether to ask you to dance, buy you a drink. Normally I would have done both by now."
"Or take me to bed?"
"Am I that obvious?"
My pussy had started to thrum and moisten as Sharon spoke. Her hand had rested on my thigh, nails running on it softly. Her touch was sensuous and teasing. Provocative and exciting.
"Normally, I would have already asked you first. I'm not the submissive type," I replied, "but not tonight. I'm sorry if I've led you on. I have the feeling you like girls don't you?"
A coy smile crossed Sharon's face at that. She thought she had caught a straight who was shy and unsure.
"I love girls, especially blonde, sexy ones, in short dresses. Why, don't you? Even just a little?"
"No, I don't like girls, even a little. I like girls a lot! It's just that I like men equally as well. Well, more actually, and I'm not sure that you do. Now that I've spoken with you I think you're girls only. I'm sorry if I've wasted your time." I flashed my left hand to let her see the big diamond engagement ring and wedding band on the third finger. "My husband's joining me shortly. I'm sorry, but we come as a pair. He doesn't mind me going with a girl at any time, especially if I'm on my own, but when we are out together, that is a different story."
"Fuck, I really didn't see that coming. I thought those things on your finger were from another girl, the way that you reacted to me."
"Well you did come right at me, and then we got on so well, but I'm not on a bait and switch mission. If you want, we can have that dance, and I'll buy you a drink afterwards. And no hard feelings. Or..." I left the sentence hanging for a few seconds, "or you could try something new, why not join us, make it a three."
"You are joking, aren't you. You'd bring me into your bed with your husband?"
"Why not, we've done it before. Look, I like girls, and Neil's OK with that, but occasionally we like to turn up the heat, and I take a girl back to share. I love seeing him with someone I've just seduced. That's what I said about not being on a bait and switch mission. That's what we call it. I'm the bait, and then we switch the scene on the girl."
"That is evil," Sharon laughed.
"Yeah, but fun. More so if the unsuspecting girl is a committed lesbian. But tonight isn't about that, we are just out at this party. Neil's checking into the hotel then joining me. But you did come on strong at me, and I reacted. Hell, you're a sexy woman. I'd love to make love with you at some time, but not tonight. Sorry, not without Neil. I'm sorry. If you're not into men then fine, but the offers there, take it or leave it. Me and Neil or neither. I can tell you Neil's very good with virgins."
"I'm not a virgin, it's just I realised very early on that I prefer girls to boys. And don't think you would be seducing me either."
"No, I don't think I would, that's cool with me. Now let me get you that drink."
"Vodka tonic, ice and lemon."
I signalled to the barman, "Make that two large ones and, Stolichnaya Crystall, or Elit, not the cheap crap." He nodded in appreciation of someone who knew her vodka.