Melanie continued applying her make-up, trying to ignore her dog, frisking about and vying for the black woman's attention.
"Get out of here!" she warned, not looking away from the mirror.
"I have got no time for you, tonight!" She booted the dog with her foot.
It was Friday night the best night for hunting!
Melanie felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through her groin, making her slick and wet.
"There's nothing I like better than turning a straight young girl," she murmured, carefully applying an overpoweringly bright red lipstick to her full, sensual mouth. "That is unless it's turning a straight, young, white girl!"
"Out you go!" Melanie shouted, stomping her foot and pointing to the door.
Hearing the menace in the black woman's voice, the dog fled.
Melanie inspected herself in the mirror she was happy with what she saw.
Melanie was a big woman, standing about 5'11". She was a bit thick-bodied; she had a naturally well-developed muscular body. Her skin was a deep chocolate brown. Her figure, although definitely attractive, she couldn't be called overly attractive.
She knew she wasn't "pretty" by most standards, but she also knew she possessed a raw, sexuality that could make her irresistibly attractive. At 44, she could still turn heads among those who liked a woman with presence.
Finally satisfied she had the make up as she wanted; she put on a low-cut yellow dress that came down about mid-thigh.
"You Got to show off the goods," she laughed to herself.
Straight women think they're straight, she chuckled, but the difference between a straight woman and a bisexual woman who was susceptible to seduction was between four to five drinks!
She turned the lighting down, turned on a few electric candles to give a romantic setting, ensuring the lighting would be dim and intimate. She slid a large, black strap-on cock between the couch cushions.
"For later," she whispered, blowing it a kiss.
Finally satisfied, she locked the apartment door behind her and made her way towards the nearby hotel.
*****
Entering the dimly lit bar room, she smiled. Hotel bars were the perfect places for seducing straight women! Women who would never be caught dead in a normal on street bar but would go to a hotel bar; the upscale dΓ©cor and lack of crowds avoiding any sex-starved males, it provided a perfect place to drown ones;' sorrows in peace.
"Too bad it won't save them from a sex-starved lesbian," Melanie chuckled.
The big black woman had been preying on straight women for years and had perfected her technique. First, she'd locate some poor straight girl who had recently been dumped and was emotionally vulnerable. They'd be easy to locate, usually sobbing into their drinks, at the bar or slouched in a booth, in the back.
These types, especially, eschewed the average pub; the last thing they're wanting was attention from more lecherous men!
Once Melanie had her mark, she'd move in for the kill, using the prey's obvious misery as an excuse to approach. Then she'd chat, commiserate, and sit close while making certain her mark's alcohol level continued to rise.
A casual brush here a suggestive glance there playing off the prey's insecurity and sexual frustrations. Then at a key point, a suggestion to go back to her place would seal the mark's fate. She grinned as she scanned the room.
"Men must be getting nastier by the day," she thought, noting the multitudes of women that appeared to be in sitting around either in tears, suppressing tears, or beyond tears.
Melanie set about finding a target.
"A nice looking ginger-head at the bar," she noted. "That's a definite possibility! There was a cute brunette, in the booth to the back of the bar"
All in all, she counted five possible victims. "Decisions, decisions!" she whispered, feeling the delicious wetness grow down below.
Then she saw her!
At the far end of the bar sat a very young blonde. She looked maybe just 20 years old and was nursing a glass of whiskey. Two empty glasses stood nearby.
"There she is" Melanie thought, "Pretty young things like you don't drink whiskey!"
Unless they felt their world had just collapsed and they wanted to go numb as quickly as possible.
The confident black woman began walking towards her grieving mark, planning her next moves.
The girl was absolutely beautiful.
Melanie licked her lips in anticipation. That gorgeous, pale face, slender waist, beautiful blonde hair, tied up in twin ponytails that made the girls looks even younger.
And she had a pair of tits big enough to feed a couple of twin's quite happily.
"Oh yeah, honey," Melanie breathed softly, drawing closer, "before this night is over, I'm going to be using your cute little ponytails as handles, looking down at your pretty little blonde head, bobbing up and down between my sleek black thighs while she stroke her head!"
Melanie slid onto the stool to the distressed girl's left.
"Hey," she murmured, trying to feign concern, "are you OK?"
The beautiful blonde looked up. Her pretty blue eyes were red from crying, but she plastered a big smile on her face.
"Oh yeah," she said with a quivering voice. "I'm fine!" Her voice cracked slightly on the last word. She met the black woman's questioning gaze for about four seconds before bursting into tears again.
Melanie wrapped the sobbing white girl in a warm embrace, secretly revelling in the feel of the girl's pretty, pale face against her own large bosom.
"No," the beautiful blonde sobbed. "I'm not OK. It's Jack he's such a bastard!"
Melanie held the white girl close, rocking her gently. "There, there," she soothed. "You tell me all about it, honey!" She signalled the bartender for another round of drinks.
"Mojito's," she ordered. "A pretty girl like shouldn't be drinking whiskey!" The beautiful blonde smiled her thanks through tear-filled eyes.
"And a pretty white girl like you don't need to realize how much she been drinking until it is too late," Melanie thought. "Nice, mild, sweet drinks go down so much smoother!" Get you so much drunker.
The now fully aroused black woman smiled and settled back, occasionally sipping at her own drink as she let the pretty blonde ramble on and on, venting her anger about man problems as Melanie subtly plied her with drink after drink.
After almost two hours, the thoroughly inebriated white girl stopped and sighed. "I feel so much better, since you stopped by," she slurred, looking at Melanie with wide, adoring blue trusting eyes.
"I've been sitting here talking and 'you've been sitting there listening and listening ... I don't even know your name!"