I told myself I was going to study the culture of a lesbian club. I'm an anthropologist so it made sense. I'm not sure why I felt I needed an excuse, though. I came out while I was attending college in Minneapolis in the 90s, and I've spent a fair amount of time at gay and lesbian bars. Maybe I needed a reason because I'm not normally someone who goes out on the prowl. I've only had a single one-night stand in my life, which was just ok. It didn't leave me wanting to do it again.
I'd been single for a while, though, and my solitary use of toys was getting old. So Saturday night I decided to go the bar by myself. I debated what to wear. While I'm definitely not butch, I'm not a make-up and high heels kind of woman either. I put on tight jeans and cowboy boots (I grew up in Dallas -- it's as natural as breathing) with a simple black top.
The music at Phase 1 was loud enough that I could hear it in the parking lot. At least it was Pop Rock Saturday, which meant I'd know how to dance to the music. I've never figured out how people dance to some of the new techno stuff.
I paid for a Coke and found a standing table where I could see part of the dance floor. I wanted to pretend I was all confident and dominant, but I was actually nervous. I got even more so when I caught sight of a beautiful butch woman. She was a couple inches shorter than my 5'8". She had caramel colored skin, dreads that hung down to her shoulders, and the way she moved her body was probably illegal in some countries. She was wearing cargo pants and a plain white sleeveless t-shirt, so I could see her muscles moving. I'm a sucker for strong arms.
Sensuous and totally confident, she was out of my league. And I wasn't her type. All the women she connected with—however briefly—were high femme. I moved closer to the dance floor to watch her anyway. She didn't appear to be attached to anyone, dancing with lots of people and sometimes by herself.
She saw me watching and her eyes appraised me. I didn't look away. She turned her back and kept dancing, but when she looked at me again, my eyes were still glued to her. After a few moments, she motioned for me to join her on the dance floor. I hesitated, and she motioned again, a small smile crossing her face. I ignored my jitters and walked towards her.
Once I got to her, she immediately pulled me towards her, pushing our pelvises together. I gasped when I felt the dildo against me. We swayed against each other, her hands on my hips. Her feet guided me in a sensual rhythm. Damn, she could dance. Now that I was closer, I could see a stream of brown freckles that ran across her cheekbones and nose.
She leaned in and spoke in my ear. "What's your name, beautiful?"
I lifted one eyebrow and moved my mouth to her ear. Over the music I said, "Really? I think you must have read me wrong. You don't have to seduce me. I'd rather you be real with me."
She laughed in surprise. "Alright, I can do that." She looked at me again, thoughtful. Her brown eyes were beautiful and intelligent and I could see the beginnings of crow's feet them. She was not as young as I'd first guessed.
She leaned in again, sounding matter of fact, not sexy or cocky. "Would you like to get out of here?" When I nodded my head, she grabbed my hand and we headed out to the parking lot. Once we were outside, she turned to me. "So if your name isn't beautiful, what is it?"
"Sarah."
I wanted to run my hand down her upper arm and feel the defined muscles in her bicep.
She stuck her hand out. "I'm Kori."
Away from the crowd in the bar, she seemed less cocky. She'd stopped playing a role, and was just being herself. I liked it. I liked her.
"Would you like to come to my place?" I asked.
"Sure. But you should know...I'm not looking for more than tonight."
"Fair enough. I'm just looking for fun, nothing serious. We hang out, hug in the morning, and say good-bye. No hard feelings, no promises, no games. Just two grown-up women enjoying each other." I wasn't sure who that the confident woman was, but I liked her. I liked me. And that changes everything.
***
We drove to my brownstone in separate cars. When we went inside, I offered her a beer. She took it while I filled a glass with water for me. She started to walk around my place, looking at some of the art hanging on the exposed brick walls.
"Is this your stuff?"
"Most of it's by friends or family."
"Nice," she said. "You know talented people."
I smiled and came up behind her and put my arms around her waist. She was looking at a black and white photograph by my brother in San Francisco of an elderly man riding the bus. "So...want to show me your talents?"
She turned, smiled at me, and cupped my face in her hand. Very softly she brought her lips to mine.
"How 'bout we start having fun now?" she asked quietly against my mouth.
I was having a little trouble breathing, but managed to reply, "Let the fun commence."
She laughed. "You're pretty much a nerd, aren't you?"
"Uh huh. Now, about that fun...."
This time she kissed me forcefully. After a moment, she parted her lips and ran her tongue very lightly along mine. I moaned and opened my mouth to receive her. We kissed passionately until she pulled away. My mouth involuntarily moved to follow hers.
"Hungry?" she said, with a smug smile.
I answered simply, "Yes." I knew my eyes showed it.
"Where's your bedroom?"
I led her up a flight of stairs. The place had been remodeled and the third floor had been converted into a master suite--one big room with a separate bathroom. It's why I bought the place. I turned on the bedside lamps. She looked around briefly but wasn't interested in the décor. She turned to me.
"I'd like you to undress," she said as she settled herself at the head of my bed. Her legs were stretched out and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her latte-colored skin stood out in relief against the modern beige and white quilt.
"Only if you do," I said.
"That's not how this works."
"It is with me. I was under the impression you could handle that."
"The stud isn't all an act, you know," she said.
"Oh?"
"Come here," she said softly. I hesitated. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just sit."
I can talk a good game, but I was nervous as I walked to the bed. I sat on the edge and she moved towards me, grabbing my chin in her hand to turn my head towards her and bringing my mouth to hers. She kissed me deeply as her hand slipped around to the back of my head and gripped my hair.
Then she pulled my head back allowing her access to my neck. A small "Oh" escaped from my lips. She ran her tongue around my ear and then spoke into it, her breathe sending heat through my body. "For tonight, you're mine."
In response, I kissed her hard. "And you're mine," I said against her lips. "Goes both ways."
She had clearly not been expecting that. She smiled.
"You've never been with a stud before, have you?"
"No. I know you probably won't let me fuck you..."
At that, she stopped smiling. "No."
"Fine. But no bondage. I'm your equal, not your sub. If that's not ok, then this was a mistake." I sounded much more sure of myself than I felt.
She looked uncomfortable. "Maybe this was a mistake. This is not how I usually fuck women."
I smiled. "Good. Then we're even. Can you handle it?" I was trying to sound nonchalant, but I thought I might break in two if she said no. I wanted this woman badly. I decided to play unfair, and started squeezing one of my nipples through my shirt. With my other hand, I languidly rubbed up and down over the seam in my jeans over my clit. Her eyes moved between my breasts and my cunt, uncertain, but watching closely. She started breathing a little heavier.
"Fine. Now will you take off your clothes?" I could tell the request wasn't easy for her.
Trying to hide my self-consciousness, I shrugged. "Ok."
I sat in the side chair and removed my boots and socks. Then I stood and wiggled out of my jeans, leaving them lying on the floor. I pulled my top over my head and dropped it on the chair, then turned to her, blushing. She looked me over as I stood there, my ivory skin contrasting against my black bra and boy shorts. I started to blush again when she said, "Um hmm. Very nice. Now bring that delicious body over here." I would have thought it was a line, but there was nothing seductive in her tone. She meant it.
I straddled her thighs. She took my C cup breasts in her hands and started to knead them, pinching my nipples a few times. I moaned.
"Up, baby," she said. When I moved off her legs, she stood to undress as I watched. She pulled her t-shirt off. Underneath she wore a light grey sports bra, covering small breasts. Her nipples were erect. When she took the bra off too, I growled too. Small but mighty, her breasts jutted out proudly. The dark brown aureoles and keyhole shaped nipples drew my eye. My mouth watered and I could feel my juices start to flow.
Then she unbuttoned her pants. She wore a black cock, maybe 7 inches, with enough girth to make me a little nervous.
Maybe I hadn't noticed because I'd been paying too much attention to her arms, which were even better bared. Her biceps were cut, and her shoulders were sturdy. The rest of her was just as magnificent. She had an athlete's body with strong legs and a six pack. And she'd been going commando under the harness. There was a triangle of short black hair, but I could see her long labia jutting out proudly. She had the confidence of an athlete, too. As she walked to the bed, I could see she had none of my self-consciousness.
"Jeezus. You are magnificent."
Putting on a drawl, she said, "Honey, you haven't seen nothin' yet."
"So show me."
"Lie down." It was not a request. I'd made my stand. I complied.
She laid down on the bed on her side and started running her fingers lightly over my skin. I arched up at her touch. "Oh god." She continued to draw patterns over my hips, and breasts and stomach, barely touching me with her fingertips until I thought I might come just from that. She continued for several minutes, and I started to wonder if I might actually lose my mind.
