I walk into the bar, my nipples hardening from the air conditioning. It's hot outside, incredibly sweaty in the shade. A chill runs up my spine as I see her again. I followed her here, though I'm not sure for what purpose. Something akin to magnetism has drawn me thus far and I find myself helpless to stop it.
She is a year or two younger than I, with bottle blonde punk rock hair. She is wearing an obscene little mini skirt and a ripped t-shirt covered in hand written slogans and anarchy symbols. I can see three tattoos and numerous piercings from across the dimly lit bar. I feel rather plain in my little cotton dress and sandals. I feel awkward and shy, a wallflower nearly six feet tall and out of place in the half full rocker bar. I nervously play with my curly hair moving sideways towards the bar.
"Gin and tonic, extra lime," I say to the bartender, my voice faltering. Why is this woman affecting me like this? I'm no lesbian, though I have entertained fantasies from time to time. But that was all an abstraction, never a contemplation of an actual planned act, and this... well, I'm not sure what this is yet. I gulp down my drink for courage and order another. Looking over to my new obsession, I see that she now has company at her table, another black and white clad punk, her hair buzzed off but for the bangs. They are joking around with one another, laughing at crude jokes.
Screwing my courage to the sticking place, I take my drink and start moving toward her. When I'm ten steps away she looks up at me, a little curious and just a bit contemptuous. My breath leaves me, my knees wobble, and I feel my panties get dampened. I continue waking toward her, but I feel as if I could freeze to this spot, savoring this moment and this look forever.
"I'm Amy," and I don't know why but I want to get hot and sweaty in your bed.
"Great, Amy, now why don't you fuck off?" she snarls, with a bit of a sideways smile to her friend.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but it's just that..."
"Eat me," she says with a vicious look. She continues to glare at me and I'm not sure what to do. We hold the pose for a few seconds, eyes locked. I'm holding my breath. Finally, I nod to her and kneel down beside her table. She looks rather shocked, and flushes instantly. I glance over my shoulder to see that no one is watching, then I duck under the tablecloth.
In the dim light under the table, I can see her glowing pale knees and thighs, her black leather boots and skirt. I can hear the silence above the table as the two friends wonder what's happening. I am wondering the same thing myself, but my lust won't let me back out now. On my hands and knees, I crawl forward to her, my head between her thighs. I caress her inner thigh with my cheek moving inward, expecting her hand to push me away hard. She doesn't. I get closer, smelling her delicious scent and catching a glimpse of a little black lace thong. My lips are drawn to it and I kiss her mound through the teasing lace, licking her exposed skin around the fabric. She shudders, and opens her legs wider for me, sliding her hips to my eager face.
She gathers up the tablecloth on her side of the table, allowing her to look down at me. There is a look of intense desire in her eyes, and she licks her lips.
"Well, keep going," she says through ragged breaths. "Is my little Amy-slut hungry? I've got some fresh tasty pussy for you!"
