A few years ago, when I lived in Adelaide, Australia, I was going through something of a "dry spell" with regards to sex. I was very busy at work and I guess I wasn't in the mood for a relationship after a couple of bad ones in a row. What I did have access to however, was Steve, my ex boyfriend who had moved to Sydney but visited Adelaide two or three time a year. When he had left Adelaide we had broken up, a more or less mutual decision based on the fact that his need to "get his end away" was going to make a long distance relationship impossible - a fact we both knew and understood. I had used his services as a living alternative to my vibrator on a couple of occasions and enjoyed myself immensely - Steve was quite gifted in bed.
This particular trip included a weekend instead of the usual one night stand. It meant a weekend in a five star hotel, all expenses paid by his company. How could a girl refuse!? On the Friday night we had a nice meal, a few drinks at the bar then went back to his room and fucked for what seemed like ages.
'Have you ever had a threesome?' Steve asked as we lay in the afterglow of orgasm.
'What?' I asked sleepily. I had heard what he said, but wanted more time to think how I could answer the question. I had enjoyed a threesome, but Steve had believed that I was fairly innocent until I had met him.
'I didn't think so,' he answered through a yawn before rolling onto his side. I felt somewhat indignant at the dismissive tone of his reply and sat up, slapping his back.
'Hey!' he cried out and rolled over to face me.
'For your information, I have,' I said. A feeling of satisfaction swept through me as I saw the look of disbelief on his face.
'Oh really?' he asked.
'Yes really,' I shot back. 'With Johnny,' I added, instantly regretting naming him. Steve had detested his predecessor while we dated and rarely missed up an opportunity to bag him out when he could.
'Johhny?' Steve looked incredulous now.
'Uh-huh,' I replied. We sat looking at each other for a while.
'And who else?' he asked. His curiosity had gotten the better of him now.
'Francesca,' I replied with a shrug. Another of his less than favorite people, though when it came down to it, Steve didn't like many of my friends unless they were men who looked up to him or women who flirted with him. It was one of the reasons that I wasn't too sad when the relationship ended.
'Hmmm,' he said and I knew that he was imagining Francesca's big breasted, red haired body next to mine.
'Do you want to call her and see if she wants to do it again tomorrow night?'
'No!" I raised my eyebrows at him. 'It was a one off thing for her.'
'And for you?'
'I don't know,' I said after a moment's hesitation and he was hooked. By the time we eventually went to sleep I had promised that the next night we would go out, pick up a woman and he could experience a threesome. Throughout I acted indifferent, extracting the promise of a shopping spree tomorrow on his expense account, including lunch and dinner. Meanwhile my insides were fluttering at the prospect at repeating the experience. I didn't care about Steve, so watching him fuck another woman was not going to be an issue for me at all.
The talk of the threesome soon had Steve hard again and he wanted more sex. My pussy was sore and I wanted nothing more to do with him, so I told him about the threesome in detail while he lay beside me and masturbated to climax. Soon after he was asleep.
The next day I made him fulfil his promise and found myself the owner of a new little red dress with matching heels, a beautiful satin bra and matching panties (all which I promised him I would wear that night), along with a new full length winter coat, fur lined hat and gloves, stockings, a leather handbag and earrings.
Steve was so eager to start our hunt that he suggested we go to dinner at five thirty. I made him calm down, assuring him that I knew one of two places we would go with a good chance of picking up early. The Mars Bar was a well known gay club, though predominantly its clientele were men. Never the less there were plenty of single women who went there for a good time, dancing without the prospect of being harassed by the usual brigade of hetero men. By the middle of the night, full of champagne and surrounded by the not inconsiderable number of attractive but unattainable men of the wrong persuasion for them, they could be suitable candidates for our plan.
But my primary aim was to go to the Beans Bar, a hang out for lesbians and alternative chicks. It would require more careful scouting, for despite what many men think, a lesbian is not going to jump into bed with him just because his girlfriend is attractive and available. However, quite a few of the women who ventured into the Beans Bar were looking for a first time same sex experience. They could be suitable targets if I approached them first, with Steve lurking in the background.
With the plan set, we calmed out nerves with a few drinks, enjoyed a light dinner before catching a cab down Hindley street to the Beans Bar. My red dress, combined with my long dark hair, was designed to ensure that I was noticed. Arriving a little after nine we found the place fairly quiet and settled down on a sofa in the corner to watch the comings and going. Steve just about jumped out of his skin every time he caught me looking at a woman. I found it a little irritating, but also somewhat amusing to see the man who considered himself so cool and sexually aware acting like a fourteen year old on his first date.
