This is a follow-up from the previous story in my "Tales from the Bar" series. It would help if you read the others first.
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Hi, my name's Patricia but people usually call me Trish. You might remember me from the story that Maz told of her 'fun night' with that young tart Naomi. At the time, she asked me to write about what happened to me, but I really didn't want to. I felt that what had happened between me and Sandra was too private and intimate. It was only after I read her version that I felt I had to. I needed to redress the balance.
Everybody goes on and on about how lovely and sweet and kind Sandra is, which she is but not in the way most people see her. She offers up a façade to the outside world, let me tell you. For sure, she came over as friendly that first night when we met her at the restaurant. To be fair, I spent most of the time talking to Naomi. She was more my age and we were on the same wavelength. When we left, it seemed that Maz had already agreed to go back to their home for a nightcap, and I just sort of went along with it. Although I'd only known Naomi for a couple of hours we were getting along fine, and we walked back to where she lived hand in hand. I could hear the two oldies talking behind us, but they were too quiet for me to work out what was being said. Little did I know that they were plotting about us.
When we got back Naomi was sent off to fetch a bottle of wine and Sandra sat Maz on the sofa with her and I was left standing like a dummy. I was quite grateful when Sandra finally noticed me, but I felt a bit awkward when she made me sit between then. It was a bit of a tight squeeze and I was conscious of both their bodies squidged up against mine.
When Naomi came back she handed round the drinks and sat on the arm of the sofa next to Sandra who made some remark about how pretty she was. I knew that it wasn't directed at me, so I kept silent but watched as Sandra's hand stroked the length of Naomi's thigh and made small forays under the hem of her skirt. It seemed almost as if she was marking her territory but, apart from that, I paid her little or no attention. Her eyes were fixed on me and I began to feel slightly awkward especially when she told Maz that she thought I was pretty as well. I took a large gulp of wine to cover my embarrassment and that was when things started going weird.
Apparently Naomi had a dance and Sandra wanted to show her off. At first she seemed reluctant but eventually stood up and went over and hunted through their collection of CDs. The dance, when it started, wasn't directed at all three of us but was clearly aimed at Maz. I've never actually been to see a striptease show but the music and the dance were exactly how I imagined things happened. I've been to a few all girl parties in my time and it was the sort of music that would prompt some very explicit 'dirty dancing'. I'm sure you know what I mean.
Anyway, that is what Naomi proceeded to do directly in front of Maz. My jaw dropped as I could hardly believe it was happening. I expected, at any moment, that Maz would say something, maybe even make an excuse and leave, but she seemed hypnotised by the gyrating girl standing far too close to her. Even I couldn't take my eyes off her and when I felt a hand on my thigh I couldn't move.
By now Naomi was topless and was playing with her breasts and nipples in a blatant invitation to Maz. Sandra put her mouth close to my ear.
"She's very sexy isn't she," she whispered.
I couldn't speak but managed a nod of agreement. When Naomi suddenly pushed Maz's legs apart my own legs were pushed even harder into Sandra's. Her hand on my thigh made wider sweeps along my leg and began to creep under my skirt. Part of me wanted Maz to take charge and announce that we were leaving but my body was already reacting to the exploring hand.
As Naomi's skirt fell to the floor, I felt the first touch on the front of my panties. It was gentle and soft at first but slowly it travelled the length of my silk covered pussy. A tremor went through me and I felt the juices begin to flow. I'm sure the probing fingers could detect that as well and I knew I had gone past the point where I could easily leave. As the stroking speeded up I abandoned myself to my greedy urges.
Meanwhile, Naomi had turned her back on Maz and bent over. Her panties had come off and her legs were spread as she offered her pussy and arse to Maz.
"I think we should leave them to it," came another whisper, "come with me."
Her hand came out from under my skirt as she quietly stood up. She took my hand and gently pulled me to my feet and led me from the room. It is only after having read Maz's story that I found out what went on after we left. I don't blame either of them. I'd have done exactly the same if the dance had been for me. It seemed as soon as we left the room all that stopped being part of reality. I allowed myself to be led upstairs by a woman who, in reality, was old enough to be my mother. She opened a door and stood to one side to allow me to enter. It was obviously her bedroom. It was a spacious room with a large bed as the dominant piece of furniture.
I heard the door click shut and then two hands on my shoulders spun me round and she kissed me hard on the lips, before pushing me away with such force that I staggered a few paces until the edge of the bed caught the backs of my knees and I fell onto my back on the bed.
"Well, what are you and I going to do while your girlfriend is distracted?" she asked in a slightly mocking voice.
She came over and sat beside me, gazing down where I lay unmoving. I felt a curious but intoxicating mixture of fear and excitement. My heart was racing, and I could feel my pussy twitching. It jumped even more when her hand went back under my skirt and touched me there again. This time it wasn't a gentle caress but a forceful push that insinuated the silky fabric of my panties deep between my pussy lips. Then the pressure was gone.
"I've already explored down there. I love that your cunt is so readily wet for me," she was gloating as she licked her fingers. "But what else has my little tart got for me to play with?"
She reached over and grabbed my boob roughly in one hand and squeezed. I yelped and she squeezed even harder. She swung one leg over me and ended up sat on top of me, trapping my arms with her knees. I knew that any chance of escape was gone but suddenly I had no urge to do so. Now both hands were on my boobs, squeezing them, pinching the nipples through the thin blouse. I tried to squirm, but one hand came free and I was slapped across the cheek.
"Stop wriggling, you little tart," she told me and there was something in the tone of her voice that made me do as I was told.
