Hi, thanks for choosing to read "Next Time You're Mine" and for giving me the opportunity to share my story with you.
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Ingenue
xx
There was a noise, a persistent thump, thump, thump, which was driving me crazy. I tried to snuggle down under my quilt and bury my head my pillow. I was tired, but most of all I craved the refuge of sleep so that I could return to my dream.
As I drifted off again, I found myself back dancing in the club. There were flashing lights, pounding music, and the intoxicating scent of hot, sweaty, gyrating bodies, as well as the unmistakable smell of sex.
My new black clubbing dress was much too short and far too revealing to be decent, but I loved it. The halter-top was secured by a bow behind my neck and the front plunged daringly, barely covering my tiny, pointed breasts, to a point below my navel. It was backless and exposed everything from my shoulders to the swell of my butt and the start the cleft between the cheeks of my arse. From the side, if I wasn't careful, my braless breasts were clearly visible. That night I'd been making sure that I wasn't careful quite a lot.
As I danced I sensed movement close behind me and felt someone's warm hands on my shoulders. I didn't need to turn around to know that it was a woman - I could smell her perfume and feel the swell of her soft breasts against my back as she pulled me close and wrapped her arms around me. There was a rush of sweet, hot breath on my skin as she kissed the back of my neck. Immersed in the music I danced on, enjoying the touch of the anonymous stranger who slipped one hand inside my dress, gently caressing my aching breast.
A young couple dancing nearby watched us. The girl was about twenty, attractive with long dark hair and a great body. She was wearing tight black jeans that accentuated her fantastic butt and a shiny, silver metallic top that was nicely filled by her firm round breasts. She had some very sexy dance moves and I was aroused watching her. In different circumstances, I would have been very interested but tonight was not the night. The guy she was with was tall and slim with curly dark hair, and in spite of my preference for girls, I found him mildly attractive.
After checking to see they were still watching, I took the woman's hand from my breast and guided it under my skirt. She didn't need any encouragement to slide her fingers inside my damp panties and seek out my bald pussy. In sync with the beat of the music, I alternately ground my butt into her groin and then rubbed my smooth, slick pussy lips against her delightfully sticky fingers.
Most of the people dancing nearby were watching me as I reached behind my neck and slipped the knot that secured the halter top allowing it to fall to my waist, proudly exposing my tiny breasts.
I could tell from the bulge in the guy's pants that he was aroused by my blatant exhibitionism. I was excited and it made me wet to know that I could make him horny so easily. His girlfriend hissed the word "slut" and dragged him off to the other side of the dance floor. Maybe she was right, but I smiled, knowing that he would be fantasising about fucking me next time he plunged his cock into her sweet cunt.
I went to the bar and someone put a drink in my hand. I brought the glass to my lips and let the cool, refreshing liquid trickle down my throat. It was delicious and I drained every drop. Before I put the empty glass down on the bar, my head began to swim.
Suddenly I was in a car travelling along a well-lit and busy road. I was sitting in the back between a man and a woman. They were both in their late thirties or early forties and well dressed. He was wearing a dinner suit with a red bow tie; she was dressed in a black, full-length evening gown. He was dark and handsome; she was slim and attractive with shoulder-length, blond hair.
Everything in my dream seemed to be in black and white with varying shades of grey, except for his red bow tie and her eyes that were bright blue. I was naked except for my shoes and jewellery. I don't remember how, but somewhere between the club and the car I'd become separated from my dress and panties.
Snippets of their conversation filtered through the haze and penetrated my consciousness. The woman spoke with an English accent, her voice cultured, educated, and precise. I was sure I'd heard her voice somewhere before.
She was talking to the man as though I wasn't there.
"Isn't she all I said she'd be?
He smiled and put his hand on my leg, sliding it up my thigh towards my sex. The woman pushed his hand away.
"Enough of that you naughty boy," she scolded. "You know she isn't for you."
He looked disappointed and didn't take his eyes off my breasts as he folded his hands in his lap, trying to hide his obvious erection.
His face was disturbingly familiar. I was sure I'd never met him but somehow I knew his face, or perhaps it was his arrogant smirk that I recognised. I thought I might have seen him on television or perhaps in the papers.
A subtle movement in his lap caught my attention. He was discreetly fondling his cock through his expensive suit pants. The woman noticed too and pulled his hands away.
"Not yet! Be patient," she said. "If you are good I'll take care of you later. I promise."
The car stopped at an intersection and as we waited for the lights to change, a motor bike pulled along side. It was a big bike with a loud throbbing motor, the noise of which reverberated through my body, sending tiny pulses of pleasure shooting to my sex. The blond woman lowered the window and put her hand between my legs, gently forcing them apart so the rider and his female pillion passenger could see my smooth, bald cunt. I was very wet.
The lights changed to green and we sped along the highway with the bike alongside. The woman next to me put her hand under my chin then lifted my face and kissed me. I was staring straight into the blank, anonymous helmeted faces of the couple on the bike. When I felt the woman's fingers enter me I nearly came.
The car turned suddenly at an intersection and the bike and my admiring audience vanished. Alone with her again, the woman put up the window and brought her fingers to my mouth. I licked them clean for her, savouring the sweet taste of my own juices.
I felt movement next to me and turning saw that the man had opened his trousers and was masturbating. The woman reached across, angrily slapped his hand away, and grabbed his cock. From the agonised expression on his face, it was obvious that it hurt a lot.
"What did I tell you?" she asked threateningly. "Try that again and there will be no pussy for you for a week."
She squeezed his straining erection, making its huge, purple head bulge obscenely. He winced and tears appeared in his eyes. Satisfied, she smiled as he obediently put his aching penis back in his trousers and zipped up the fly.
The car stopped and I was walking, or rather, I was half carried, half dragged across a small bridge to an equally tiny room.
My dream began to fade. I was cold and the annoying noise was back. "Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump...." It droned on, and on, and on, the tempo never varying. I tried to pull up my quilt but found that I couldn't move my arms.
"Look! She's awake." It was a woman's voice, but not the same one as in my dream. There was definitely an Australian accent this time.
I tried to raise my head but it simply refused to cooperate and my eyes felt like they were glued shut.
There was a man's voice. "Yes look, she's trying to open her eyes. Don't stop now."
The voices sounded hollow as though they were coming from the bottom of a deep mine shaft. I could hear and understand the words but none of it made any sense. I tried to speak, "Don't stop what?" I wanted to ask but the words that emerged from my mouth were garbled and unintelligible.
"It's okay Catherine. Don't worry, you're okay. Everything is alright." It sounded like the woman with the English accent from my dream.
There was a cool, soothing hand on my forehead and something warm brushed my cheek. It wasn't unpleasant but I flinched at the unexpected contact.
"It's okay Honey, just relax. You're going to be okay." The English accent was unmistakable this time.
I tried to sit up but found that I still couldn't move my arms. When I tried to move other parts of my body, I realised that it was refusing to obey even the simplest commands my brain was sending.
I was scared. Unanswered questions tumbled over one another in my head. "Where was I? Was I in hospital? Had I been in an accident? How badly was I hurt? Oh my God, was I paralysed? Please not that! What the hell had happened to me?"
There was a hand on the back of my head and I felt something cold and hard against my lips. My mouth filled with cool liquid, some of which spilled and dribbled down my chin.
