Jae and Naomi

I let the warm water cascade over me while, with one hand, I soaped my pert little titties and my other hand softly rubbed my tingling pussy and one clipped nail gently tickled my hard, throbbing clit. Just gently.

I wasn't pussy-rubbing for a cum; I was just enjoying relaxing and feeling the tensions of a long work week ease out of my tired muscles as I thought of the smorgasbord of women who would be out and about on a Friday night.

For whatever reason I hadn't scored in a couple of weeks and I was hoping my recent bad luck would change tonight.

As I mellowed and relaxed, I allowed the last couple of week-ends to run through my mind. As well as my coming up dry.

Friday and Saturday nights in my favorite hang-out, which some genius had named simply, Puzzies, was usually easy hunting ground for a big, strong butch like me. Lezzy or straight or Bi or curious or just confused, my bar was usually full of chicks and women on the week-ends and I usually had my pick. Like I said, I'm strong and confident, always packing, which I never try to hide. Sexy femmes, those looking for a certain kind of lovin', the kind studs like me dish out, usually drool. Often I find the straight and the bi and the curious and the confused to be easy pickin's because these women can con themselves that being in the sack with me doesn't necessarily label them as lez. After all, complete with my trusty 'cock', I can pound them like any guy, they can feel my muscles as I pound 'em, they can feel the strength in my hands as I grip their hair when they drool on my 'cock' and 'blow me'.

But, for all of that, I am still a woman. And once I've treated them and me to some cums, I do know how to act 'womanly' and give these women – if I like them at all and if they've done a good enough number on me in the sack - what they don't often get from the men. They might enjoy the rough and tough and strength 'til they've had their fun but, often, after, they want the kissing and the cuddling, some tenderness, the assurances that their 'man' appreciates them and cares about them. What is that old joke? I can fake sincerity with the best of them? Well, no, let's be honest, here, OK? Like I said, despite my 'manliness' and my preferences in the sack, I am still a woman. I like to be in charge, I make sure I am always in charge, but I do not mind being on the receiving end of some tenderness myself, after the deed is done – as long as she doesn't get way carried away - and don't mind reciprocating. Especially if she has been good enough in the sack that she is worth another go-round. See. A woman in the sack with me gets the best of both worlds.

And, obviously, that is another 'gift' I can give them. Even the best male stud has his limits but this particular stud knows no limits and I can pound 'em 'til they beg for mercy, if that is what they want. And, yeah, while it has been told to me that most guys are real fuckin' amateurs when it comes to going down on the rug, me, I love gobblin' the gash, slurpin' the soup, and I can make most women's pussies overflow their banks.

Two hours later, I walk up to the bouncer at the door of Puzzies. She's Randi, a 'manly' girl also and, her and I, we've had a few go-rounds. We like each other and it's a friendly competition of mutual respect. Twice before, when we both had came up dry, we'd had a 'gay' night. Both strapped up, we'd hopped in the sack like a couple of gay-boys and romped. We skipped dongin' asses but we'd 'blown' each other and cock-rubbed and hand-jobbed each other and found that while most women were sorta clueless about it and we had to do it for our own selves as we fucked 'em, we were experts at manipulating each other's strap-cocks for maximum clitty-stimulation and we both gave each other some good cums. And after, we'd kissed and cuddled – just a little – and laughed and laughed and wondered – again minus any ass-jamming – if that was just how the gay-boys did it for real.

Randi's eyes gleam. "Hey, stud," she purrs. "How's it hanging?"

I check her out, up and down, like what I see – but tonight I'm really in the mood for a real 'femme' chicken.

"It's hanging just fine, Randi," I reply. "It's rough and ready to go. Any takers inside?"

"Stud, if you can't get laid tonight, you ain't half tryin'," she answers. "Femme city, baby. I've had a few droolin' on me already. Just you leave me a little something-something, you hear?"

Then I'm passed her, into Nirvana.

I stride confidentially to the bar and order a scotch. I slide onto a bar stool, make sure my skin tight jeans are smoothed out, emphasizing my 'package', sip and survey.

Randi's right. The joint is packed and I only spy a few butches like me and Randi. Now, sometimes it is just a numbers game. Some femme-chicks only like other femme-chicks and, even though I can be soft and tender sometimes, if I want, and even though I always figure – to each their own - I just wonder just how syrupy sweet it gets in bed with two sweet femmes femming it up. But there are always those femmes, as I've already noted, who want what I'm packing. Some so they can kid themselves they ain't lez. Some just because they prefer the 'cock' but just can't stand who 'cocks' are attached to. So I check out who's checking out me and the other butches. And, like I say, sometimes it is just a numbers game and the numbers are favorable tonight as there is me and Randi and only about 5 other real obvious man-type lezzies. And the femmes just keep coming. No need for a 'dry' night or a 'gay' night with Randi tonight. My pussy tingles at the thought of a sweet pussy drooling on my cock right soon.

"Hey there," I hear on a voice on my right. "Do you dance, stud? Do you wanna waltz me around?"

I swivel that way slowly and watch as her eyes go right to the ole basket. "You talkin' to me, honey?" I ask. "I ain't gonna even consider waltzing you 'round 'til I see if I like what you're offering."

She's a doll. Long, silky looking, wavy black hair, hanging on her shoulders and boobs and trailing down her back. Just the nice kind of hair I like to feel in my hands when she's slobbering on my cock. Jutting tits. She's wearing a sexy dress and I see luscious legs. She's a package and she talked to me first. I see no real reason not to dance her around a little. When I'm ready to. With my iron arms around her and what I am sure is her luscious ass in my strong hands, I'll grind some cock into her and she how she reacts.

But, first. "Sit your sweet ass down, doll," I tell her, pointing at the empty seat beside me. "I'm gonna finish my drink and another then I might figure you're worth a trip to the dance floor. What'cha drinking, doll? What's your name?"

Her tight cocktail dress, shimmered and glistened and moved, interestingly, as she sat. She held out her hand.

"My name's Naomi," she said. And she named some syrupy 'woman's' drink.

I signalled the bartender for another Scotch and made finger signals that she knew meant to bring the doll beside me whatever she was drinking.

Meantime, I had taken her offered hand and I had first shook it like men shake and was now holding it, tightly, letting her feel my strength.

"I'm Jake," I told her. "Pleased to meet 'ya,"

She didn't blink at the name 'Jake'. Actually it's Janice, but my first partner on my first trucking job, had took one look at me and named me Jake. I'd liked it and still do.

The bartender sat down some drinks in front of us.

"May I have my hand back, Jake?" she asked. "I may need it."

"For what, Naomi? You've got another."

"But what if you get fresh and I have to slap your face while I'm holding my drink in my other hand?" she asked.

"Well, Naomi," I chuckled. "Number one, I reckon if I was to get fresh, a doll like you would probably be liking it and not thinking of slapping me. And number two, just because you're a woman, don't think I wouldn't slap you back, baby. After all, I'm a woman too, you know. A man shouldn't hit a woman, I know, but just because I'm 'manly', it still don't make me a man. And right now, I gotta admit, doll, that I'm damn glad I'm not a man. Because, if I was a guy, a doll looks like you, I don't think we'd be chit-chatting so nicely when we've just met. Most guys I know would be only having one thought in their minds right now and that is, 'how do I get this Naomi into my bunk?'"

She took a sip and laughed. "You mean to tell me there, Jake, that you aren't having that exact same thought?"

I chugged the last of my first drink and picked up my second.

"Well, now, Naomi. You got me there. Of course, I was thinking of how to get you into my bunk. You got the goodies and you flaunt the goodies like you are right now and how is any woman like me expected to not want to sample the goods? But, if you aren't interested in what I can offer, that is where me not being a man is a real plus. Because we can sit and have decent conversation and maybe even help each other out into getting what we are interested in. Man and a woman can maybe do that too – maybe. But in my experience not half as good as two gals."

Hey. I was just giving her the straight talk. If she really wasn't interested, I needed to know. And I wasn't lying. I'd sit and have 'womanly' conversation with her anyway. At least until it was time to make my move on someone more interested than her. And mostly, I find if I am blunt and put the cards on the table, it can help some dilly-dallying, can't-make-up-their-cotton-pickin'-mind femmes, turn that corner and make a decision. And if she was really willy-nilly and not likely to ever make up her mind and take the plunge – well, I needed to know that too, didn't I?

Besides, every instinct I had told me Naomi was, indeed, interested and that she was my score for tonight. Without making the slightest move to hide it, I reached down and rubbed my cock, enjoying a thrill as it rubbed my clit. Naomi smiled as she watched and I leaned closer to her and chuckled.

"I really got it, don't you think, Naomi?" I chuckled again. She was a sweet, sweet body and I'd do a real nice number on it and show Naomi what a real woman could really do.

"You accuse me of flaunting the goodies, Jake," she purred, leaning close to purr it right in my ear. "I'd say you like flaunting your goodies pretty much yourself."

As she had leaned over she had put one hand on my shoulder and when she was done purring in my ear she stroked it up my neck and the back of my head, rubbing around in what little hair I've got and, man, it felt good. It felt damn good.

"Well, honey, I drive a truck for a livin' and it's a real ole boys club where the guys I work with are always measuring their dicks so I just sorta had to fit in now, didn't I?"

"And just exactly how well do you fit in, Jake? In that 'man's' environment? Do you mind me asking?"

"Hell, no, darlin'" I said, still enjoying her rubbing the back of my neck and head. "I fit in just fine. Some guys resent me, but a lot more respect me and both for the same reason. Hell, I get more pussy than they do. I'd say I do just fine."

"Well, Jake," she cooed, sweetly. "I'd say you're doing just fine right here, too. Have you made up your mind? All this chit-chat is OK but I do really want to dance. What d'ya say?"

I stood, towering over her by maybe 6 inches, as she stood too.

I put a muscular arm around her waist, pulled her close to me and began to guide her through the throng to the dance floor.

The music was fast and the small dance floor was crowded so we just kind of stood close and jiggled around and, boy, I gotta admit, the way her fleshy boobs bounced around in her dress was making my mouth water. My much smaller tits really didn't bounce much – how could they? - but there were peaks in my t-shirt and my nipples were rock hard and poking out and I noticed Naomi seemed to be very interested in them.

Then, finally, a nice slow song came on and this is what we'd both been waiting for. I took Naomi in my arms and pulled her tight against me.

There was still not much room, not near enough to show Naomi any of my fancy foot-work, but she was a dream in my arms.

I hugged her tight, my clit was buzzing and my pussy was leakin', as I fondled her sweet ass and ground my cock against her.

She couldn't have escaped my strong grip even if she wanted to and, believe me, folks, Naomi had no intention of going anywhere. Her head was lied on my shoulder and I could feel her hot breath on my neck and little sounds came from her mouth and she allowed me to manipulate her body so my cock massaged her cunt and her cunt jiggled my cock nicely so that it massaged my clit beautifully. We both probably could have crescendoed to a cum right there, had the song lasted just a little longer. As it was, we were both breathing rather hard when the music ended. I released her and we each backed off a step.

"You really know how to dance with a woman, don't you, Jake?" she said, running her hands through her glorious hair.

I threw back my head and laughed. "Baby, it's like shifting gears in my truck. I know how to do EVERYTHING, with a woman," I told her and she smiled.

"Come on, baby, and I'll show 'ya,"

I kept a strong arm around Naomi on the way back to the bar. Not that I thought she was going anywhere without me but she just felt so good.

"Do you have to say 'adios' to anyone, Naomi?" I asked her.

'Nope,' she answered. "My girlfriends – the girls I came here with – saw me dancing with you and – maybe you didn't see – I gave them the look that told them that I would call them tomorrow."

"So, I guess your friends are used to you disappearing when you've gotten what you came for, is that it?" I asked, not really caring.

Naomi smiled that gleaming smile. "Something like that," she said.

Out in the hall-way leading to the front door of the club, Randi is still doing her duty. Her duty consisting of not letting any under-age chicks inside and also keeping out guys, gay or straight. Both groups came to gawk, although what gay-boys find so interesting to gawk at is beyond me. Despite my and Randi's 'gay' fun nights, the last thing in the world I would wanna witness are the gay-boys playing out their mating rituals. In addition to gawking, straight guys, who have gotten in from time to time, have often caused problems and fights, claiming that us lezzies were 'stealing' their women. Like I maybe have told you, I'm tough and strong and push a rig for a living and I'd had to punch out a couple, usually leaving them embarrassed and finishing them off with an insult such as – 'if you guys were half the 'guys' you should be, as a woman like me is, maybe you wouldn't be so scared that a real woman could take your woman away. I've never taken a woman from anyone without she already didn't want to go.' Now, strictly speaking, that wasn't necessarily true, but they didn't need to know that. There have been a few women, without, I don't think, the slightest intention of leaving their 'man', who, after I'd done a real nice number on them, between the sheets, left their 'man' in the dust in their haste to find, if not me, another woman, like me. If y'all think that's bragging, well, hell, maybe it is.

Did Naomi have a man? Was I 'taking' her away from some man? Or even some other woman? I didn't know. I did not care. Maybe – maybe – if she wanted some kissing and cuddling after I'd fucked the living shit out of her, I'd ask, just to make conversation. Other than that, Naomi and her luscious body had my pussy on fire – good thing it was gushing scads of juice – that should keep things a little cool down there, cool enough that my jeans wouldn't burst into flames - and – tonight – at least – Naomi was mine to do with what I wanted.

As she regarded Naomi, I could see the envy in Randi's eyes, but she punched me, affectionately, in the arm and said, "Nice pull, woman."

To Naomi she said, "Baby, I hope you got a nice hot tub or something to soak in tomorrow because after one of Jake's work-outs your body's likely to be aching."

I chuckled. "Thanks, Rand. Why don't you scare the poor girl off, why don't 'ya? Just go out and flag us down a cab, will 'ya, please?"

As Randi left, Naomi though, just laughed. "Fat chance she could scare me off, love. My personal trainer's been on holidays for almost two weeks. I really need a good work-out."

I said, "I'd like to meet and compliment your personal trainer sometime, girl." I ran my hand down her back to grip her ass. "If this body is an example of his work, he must be good at his job."

"Her," Naomi said. "Her job, Jake. And yes, AFTER I see what kind of work-out you hand out, I think you and her really do need to meet when she comes back."

My body was shaking by now with desire for this girl and I was just about to pull her into my arms for our first kiss when Randi came back and said there was a cab waiting for us outside.

I leaned in and gave Randi a quick 'thank-you' peck on the lips and the next thing I knew, Naomi and I were cuddled together in the back of a cab. I knew the woman driving. She'd had to get a taxi driving job after she'd left her husband after we'd tore up the sheets together one night – a night she still thanked me for, occasionally. Since she knew well where I lived, she just took us there. Envy was in her eyes too, when I paid her and then, I was unlocking my door and pulling Naomi inside.

Is there anything sweeter in the world than that first delicious kiss with a new woman?

That is sort of a rhetorical question, folks, as I really don't believe that there is.

The kisses might be sweet but I really wasn't being gentle with Naomi. No sir, quite the opposite. I had her slung against the wall in my foyer and I was crushing her soft boobs against my harder chest and I was crushing her ass with my strong hands and I was not-to-gently crushing my dick on her groin area and my lips were crushing hers and her tongue was losing a duel with my tongue and I crushed her tongue against the roof of her own mouth.

I kept that up for a few delicious moments. Then I released her, stood back a bit and watched her pant.

"Hey, beautiful. Welcome to my home."

Naomi was not fazed. She stepped forward, pulled me into her arms – which she probably couldn't have done if I hadn't let her – and gave me a few hard kisses of her own.

"Mmmm," she breathed against my neck. "If that was the 'welcome', I can hardly wait to see what the rest of the stay is like."

Like I keep telling y'all, I'm strong. I bent my knees, put one arm around Naomi's legs, around by her knees, the other strong arm around her neck, straightened up and kissing her all the way, carried her down the hall to my bedroom.

Once inside, I took two long strides to get me in the vicinity of my bed and slung her.

She landed square in the middle of my bunk and bounced.

Naomi lie there, panting, eyes gleaming, her hands busy between her legs.

"That's it, doll. Juice yourself up good, girl."

"Don't really need to, Jake," she cried. "I've been gushing since our slow dance. Wanna taste?"

I finished getting my t-shirt over my head and my titties came into view for her. I took another step and leaned down so she removed some fingers from her cunt and placed them in my mouth.

Shit. She tasted like pure honey and her fingers were so wet I knew she had a lot of that honey for me.

While I bent down like that, I reached around her and with a silken whisper I eased the zipper of her dress down. As I was so engaged, I felt my titties getting wet and I knew Naomi was using her other cunt-juice-wet hand to play with my little tits. She slapped them a little and I felt her pinching my rock hard nipples.

Much as I was enjoying that, much as I hated interrupting the fun she was having, I had some other important business to attend to.