Sammy Jo Has Another Big Night

Hello there, it's me again, Sammy Jo, here to tell you about another big night out. And wow, do I have a story to tell!

Last time we spoke I left you en route to a hot date. As you may or may not remember, it was a Friday and the date was going to be the sequel to the hottest night of sex I'd ever had. Okay, so it was a sequel delayed by over seven years but believe me, the wait only added to my anticipation.

Jeepers creepers, was I up for it!

Before I set off I examined myself in a full-length mirror. Not too shabby for thirty-six, I decided. In fact I was looking good in my short, revealing cobalt blue dress and with my long blonde hair swept mostly over my left shoulder.

'I would,' I assured my reflection, 'and she definitely will.'

I chuckled as I set off on the short walk downhill into town. I had the seven year itch for Heather all right; the itch and the already-damp knickers to prove it.

Up until that morning I'd only ever thought of Heather as "Hev". We'd met by chance in a bar and one thing had quickly led to another. Did I say "quickly"? Go on then, I'll admit it. We'd gone to my place and got on with the fucking without even bothering with introductions.

Oh, what it had been to be twenty-eight, footloose and fancy-free!

It was hard to keep the smile off my face as my heels clacked on the pavement. Hev had fucked me into blissful oblivion that other time, back in the dismal August of 2008. Then she'd vanished while I was sleeping it off, leaving only her cum stains behind her. Well, she'd left a note on the kitchen table, signed in her nickname and putting me on a promise, but giving no contact details at all.

Seven years or more, I mused. Seven years with her knowing where to find me but me clueless about her.

I suppose I should have felt resentful but I didn't. In her note Hev had promised me sex "if I ever bump into you again". It had taken a long time for that happy coincidence to occur but hey, this was here and now. We were about to happen again, and imminently; that was all that mattered.

Now I must confess, along with the chuckling and grinning I was nervous. I already knew that Hev was a demon when it came to sex. When I just said she'd fucked me into oblivion I wasn't joking. And knowing tonight was "my turn" wasn't altogether reassuring. It was hard to imagine her lying back submissively while I had my fun.

Still, so what if history repeated itself? I'd recover in a week or two. It'd be worth it.

Sex-nerves aside, I was also cautious about Hev's position at work. I was the new girl in Lending at WYB; she was a main board director and still climbing. God only knew what she'd been back in 2008; I didn't. While she was setting up this second session she'd said something about bankers being busy saving the world back then . . . and she'd said it as if she'd been directly involved.

What am I getting into? I wondered. Then, grinning again, Sod it, what do I care!

Our 2016 trysting place was Bingley's Suburban Bar . . . the very place we'd had our first chance meeting. We'd agreed on nine o'clock but I was conscious of my careers teacher's advice. "Never be later than ten minutes early" she'd once told me. She was, of course, talking about arriving for a job interview. I reckoned it applied equally well to my date so I made sure I got there before quarter to.

'Good evening,' one of the doormen said to me in greeting.

'Knock 'em dead,' said the other, opening to door and ushering me past.

Glad I didn't look too much like trouble I smiled at them and went inside.

*****

The bar was already crowded. Even so, I spotted Hev straightaway. She was at the bar, chatting to a barman and sipping white wine.

'Sexy Sammy Jo,' she said as I joined her, surprising me with a kiss. I'd been expecting a kiss of the air variety at best, but didn't complain. Instead I returned it in spades.

'You're looking great,' she said, holding me at arm's length and studying me.

I laughed at that. Hev was always going to be more of a vision than anyone at her side. She's tall (taller than me, and I'm five foot ten in heels), a youthful thirty-five and, along with the face of a fallen angel, she has a mane of black hair that falls halfway down her back. I'll tell you more about her body shorty but trust me: the girl is utterly, absolutely stacked.

'What's that you're drinking?' I asked.

'Pinot; it's too warm for Shiraz.'

I nodded and ordered two large glasses. It was only May but the weather was exceptionally fine. It had brought out short dresses and low necklines right, left and centre. Not that I intended to complain about that. And I certainly wasn't averse to my date's attire. She was in a short brown leather skirt, a skimpy white blouse and very little else.

Wow, I thought, dimly aware my knickers were getting wetter by the second.

Hev swigged down the last of her current glass while I paid the barman. Then she took my hand and led me away from the bar, stopping when we reached one of the pillars supporting a sort of gallery seating area. She didn't know it, but this was where she'd been standing when I first laid my baby blue peepers on her.

She started to say something but the music suddenly went from background to loud. Nine must have been that night's witching hour. Polite conversation was no longer a possibility.

'I can't hear you,' I yelled back at her.

She pointed to my glass and made drinking up gestures before setting an example. I followed suit and gulped the best part of a third of a bottle of dry white down in one.

Then we were holding hands again and on our way outside.

'I said you would,' said the second doorman.

'Don't do anything I wouldn't,' added the other.

'That narrows it down,' Hev retorted, 'not!'

We weaved through knots of smokers then stopped and kissed on the cobbles.

(Yes folks, a lot of the side streets in my sleepy home town are still cobbled. They can't do much for car suspension systems, but they do add to the ambiance. And you can definitely hear vehicles approaching over them, making them safe to snog on, as well as somehow romantic.)

I did wonder if Hev would want to further that second, prolonged kiss but instead she led me back to Main Street and took a left.

'I know somewhere much quieter,' she said. 'And they do Landlord.'

'You and your beer,' I replied. Then, as we arrived outside the Kings Head: 'You don't mean in there?'

'Course I do. Why shouldn't we?'

I shrugged. I could have said because the place was infamous, but I didn't.

'Phones off first,' Hev said, pointing to a sign that had been there forever, saying NO MOBILES.

The pub was quite busy inside but Hev had been right: it was much quieter than the Suburban.

'Two pints please,' she said to a barmaid, tapping the Landlord pump as she spoke.

The barmaid was a skinny young thing but her right arm belonged on a bodybuilder. Or rather it would do if she stayed a year or two longer in the trade. I smiled as I watched her pull the beer pump handle with the greatest of ease.

'Where's Andy?' Hev asked her.

'He's down The Potting Shed, watching rugby.'

'What's wrong with the screen out in the smoking area?'

'Nothing, but the Rhinos are having a crap season. He's trying to watch them anonymously.'

'So,' Hev began as we took relatively secluded seats by the pool table, 'do you forgive me for not getting in touch?'

'We're in touch now,' I said, putting my hand on her bare knee, 'that's all that matters.' Then, with a frown, I asked, 'Isn't Andy the guy in charge here?'

'He certainly is. He has been for years and years.'

'And you know him?'

'I've known him a while. And I knew Sean too, before he went berserk.'

I shivered a little at that. Sean Dwyer had been the local gangster. He'd ruined Bingley's peaceful reputation in more ways than one.

'I didn't know you did guys,' I said in a subject-changing sort of a way.

'Oh it has been known.' She fixed me with her eyes, almost hypnotizing me, making me want to tumble into those emerald depths. 'What about you, Sexy Sammy Jo? Do you do guys?'

'Not anymore. I married one and he put me off men for good.'

'I didn't know you were married.'

'I'm not. It didn't last. And like I said, I'm off men for good.'

'I won't bore you with my bisexual theory,' she said, stroking the tattooed lesbian symbol on my arm. 'Let's talk about us instead. It's my place tonight, right?'

'That's A-Okay by me,' I agreed.

'It's only fair,' she went on. 'I got to shag you at yours; you get to shag me at mine.'

By then my knickers weren't just wet; they were whatever comes after saturated. 'I'm not arguing,' I said, 'it makes perfect sense to me.'

'Did you remember to bring that intriguing steel wand of yours?'

'Yes, it's in my bag.'

'Great, I can't wait to sample it.'

I grinned back at her. It had been my least-favourite toy until she'd used it on me. Since then it had become a very regular bedtime companion.

'You have a decision to make.' Hev drained her glass and regarded me levelly.

'Do I?'

'Yes. We can have a boozy late night, followed by lots of alcohol-fuelled sex. Or we can have a sexy early night, followed by lots of sex-fuelled sex. The choice is yours.'

*****

I chose the early night followed by sex-fuelled sex. Hev actually applauded my decision.

'A girl after my own heart,' she said.

We had another round of pints and final glasses of plonk then set off, hand-in-hand yet again.

'What do I call you?' I asked as we turned into Park Road. 'Is it "Hev", "Heather" or "Ms Hunter"?'

'I'm always Hev to friends and lovers. Are you always Sammy Jo?'

'I am to lovers . . . and I definitely am to you.'

She suddenly pulled me into a side street on our left. I don't know what it was called, but it was the one that leads to the Damart factory (or should that be mill?).

'It'll take ten minutes in a cab,' she said, 'and I can't wait.'

Neither could I. I let her lead me across another set of cobbles. She picked a spot opposite an MOT centre and leant back against a wall, under the sparse cover of a few small trees.

Gulping, I looked back to Park Road. It was only twenty or so yards away. And, although it had got dark, there was a lamppost not ten feet from us.

'Come on, Sexy Sammy Jo,' she murmured, 'what are you waiting for? It's your turn.'

As I kissed her I told myself there was no chance of anyone coming down this street. The few businesses were shut for the night and there was nowhere else to go. There was more than the off-chance of someone passing by the end of it, though. That was a main-travelled road. People were coming and going along it all the time.

Then, still avidly kissing me, she drew my hand onto her bare leg and I forgot all about the risk of being caught.

Jeepers, didn't I just!

Hev's skirt was short but not too tight. It was easy-peasy to march my fingers up her thigh.

'Yes,' she endorsed.

Remembering our previous encounter I didn't rush my opening moves. Hev had rushed big-time but this was going to be different. I wasn't going to simply copy her, I was determined of that.

So I marched my fingers down her other thigh. Then I marched them back up again. And then I repeated the process . . . several times.

Hev grunted and kept on kissing. Next time up her thigh I copped a feel. Her thong could only be described as microscopic. Well, wet and microscopic. And I'd thought I had the soggiest panties in town!

Abandoning the marching I started to rub through the moist material, aiming generally to begin with but gradually homing in on her clit. And her clit was, by the way, unmissable. There was no hiding away behind delicate folds of skin for that little madam. Oh no, she wasn't very large but she stood out proud.

Our kiss took a time out at that point. Hev buried her face in my shoulder, hopefully trying to stop herself from screaming. Her lower body was gyrating and simultaneously flexing away from the wall and up against my hand. I could feel her hot breath through the fabric of my dress and on my exposed bits of flesh.

Did she just cum? I wondered.

I guessed that she had but didn't leave it at that. By my recollection she'd made me cum four times before we got anywhere near my bed. I wasn't going to settle for anything less, was I?

*****

Our taxi driver obviously knew Hev. He chatted to her non-stop as he drove us to her place. And, to my surprise, she kept her hands to herself and chatted back to him.

I must admit I was bemused when we left the main Keighley-Bradford road and turned right. Soon we were out of civilization and going over a swing bridge, heading uphill and into the wilds. Well, we went through a stretched-out sort of a village first (one I assumed to be Micklethwaite). Then we went around a scary hairpin bend and along a straighter bit of uphill before taking yet another right.

I gasped when I saw her residence. It was a large renovated farmhouse complete with a large paved forecourt. Hell, it even had its own duck pond.

And then the taxi was gone and we were inside, Hev switching lights on seemingly everywhere.

'We need to see what we're doing,' she said, beaming at me.

I already knew that was one of her preferences and beamed back at her. 'Which way is it to your bedroom?'

'Never mind my bedroom. Let's go shag in the lounge.'

I won't describe the lounge because I took no notice of it at the time. My attention was fixed on Hev as she unfastened her blouse.

'I'm supposed to rip that off you,' I said, remembering the buttons flying off my own blouse.

'Oh Sammy Jo,' she said, 'that's so noughties. Nowadays it's in to strip for each other. Come on, an item at a time.'

Giggling, I kicked off one of my heels. Leaving her blouse undone but still on, she kicked off one of hers. I kicked off my other and she did the same.

'You've got the idea,' she said. 'Now take off something else.'

I didn't have a lot left but wasn't going to back down. I undid the bows which secured my dress and let it slip down around my ankles.

'Very nice,' she said as I stepped out of the discarded garment, now wearing only matching bra and knickers (matching in style and colour, that was; wetness-wise they were poles apart).

Hev took off her blouse and threw it carelessly aside. She hadn't bothered with a bra and she did not need one. Not that she was flat-chested; her tits were perfectly in proportion. They were also round and firm and capable of looking after themselves. There was nothing floppy about them at all.

And her torso was even more ripped than it had been last time I saw it. She clearly hadn't been shirking in the gym.

'Earth to Sexy Sammy Jo,' she prompted, chuckling. 'It's your go again.'

I unhooked my bra and tossed it aside, trying to be as nonchalant as she'd been with her blouse.

'Lovely bazoomas,' she observed. 'I'd forgotten how raunchy you are.'

So saying, she unfastened her skirt and threw it away behind her.

Excuse the swearing, but her body is fucking amazing. I could use words like "strong" and "well-developed" . . . possibly even "sturdy". The one that springs to mind though is "fantastic".

'I opened my mouth and, not knowing what was going to come out, said, 'Flex your muscles.'

She did and I wet myself all over again.

'Your turn,' said she.

'I'm not flexing anything,' I replied as I tugged down my panties.

'Nice landing strip,' she said, doing likewise with her thong (and it looked even more microscopic than it had felt under my fingertips, I would assure you of that).

'Nice tan,' I said in return. 'Good to see it's still every-last-inch.'

Then, deciding that was enough civilized chitchat, I grabbed her and mashed mouths. She caught hold of my backside and accepted my invading tongue. She was sticking to her agreed role. I was pleased about that and found it quite incredible. I also found it incredibly exciting.

Her ass was as firm as her tits. She couldn't have had an ounce of fat on her body. And speaking of bodies, she was doing that simultaneous gyrating and flexing again. Juice was tricking down my legs. I'm not sure if it was hers or mine. Maybe it was a blend of both of us.

Suddenly I wanted to taste it. 'Where?' I asked urgently.

'On the rug,' said Hev, pulling me in the right direction.

I found out later that the rug was a "quad sheepskin", in other words four hides sewn together. At the time I might have thought it was a white mammoth skin. More than likely I didn't think anything at all.

Next thing I knew Hev was on her back, moaning, groaning and squeezing her own tits. I was on all-fours with her legs one either side of my head, knees bent, her bare feet digging into the small of my back.

And did I give her an eating!

Don't ask me how long I was at her or how many times she came. "Ages and ages" and "dozens and dozens" is the best I can come up with. I'll say this though. I excelled myself and both of us thoroughly enjoyed it.

Eventually, when I began to develop jaw-ache as well as repetitive tongue strain, leaving Hev still on her back, chuckling breathlessly, I recovered my bag and got out my fun wand.

That "wand" is nine-inches of curved steel with a big bulb on one end and smaller ones set out at intervals on the other. Hev had used it so well on me that ultimately I flaked out. I can't claim that I used it as proficiently as she did, but I certainly made her scream, shout and holler blue murder. It turned out she's sensitive in all the same places as me, you see.

And I've had seven years of practice in stimulating me.

*****

At last, when I finally accepted she wasn't going to faint or beg for mercy, I suggested bed. Hev suggested we took a bottle of Shiraz with us and I immediately agreed. A brief wine break would, I judged, set me up for another hour or two. We had tribbing to do, maybe a little scissoring.

Except Hev's self-control was slipping. We shared one glass then she was abruptly on her feet, rummaging in an old-fashioned chest of drawers.

'Let's try this,' she cried, waving a purple, double-ended dildo.

I looked in the drawer with disbelief. It was packed with sex toys.

'There are more in the other drawers,' she assured me with a trademark grin, 'but I fancy a bit of this.'

It looked pretty damn big to me but I didn't say so. Still under the impression I was in charge I got on the bed opposite her and we eased ourselves onto the toy.

'It's a nice size, isn't it?' she said.

'Yes,' I agreed, secretly thinking it was the biggest thing I'd ever had in me.

Now here's a confession. I'd previously never done a double-ender but I'd seen the odd video or two when they'd been used (not that I watch many girl-on-girl videos, honest!). My understanding was that the participants would go at it face-to-face, with one leg over the other's leg. That is to say that I ought to drape a leg over one of Hev's, and she should drape one over one of mine.

Wishful thinking or what!

Before I knew it both my legs were draped over hers and she was in force-of-nature mode. Trust you me, it can happen just like that! One second she's calm and controlled; the next she's fucking like a crazy woman.

As the girl in charge I tried to match her but couldn't come close. I tried to reach for the grip in the middle of the toy to no avail. She knocked my hand away.

'No,' she gasped, 'let me.'

Hev didn't need to use the grip. She seemed to have a firm hold with her pussy. As I watched the length of purple rubber I realized it was moving a long way in and out for me but hardly at all for her. And it was moving faster and faster, harder and harder.

Relinquishing notions of being in charge I stopped trying to match her. Instead I made like a girl who's being fucked and tried to complement her. That was much easier to do. And shifting modes from competitive to compliant wasn't without benefits. I soon ditched "compliant" in favour of out-and-out orgasmic.