It Wasn't a Club in Soho

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

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Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat and the ass is a bum or arse.

I apologise for any typo errors in my story - I edit these myself, and I'm not perfect...

We met, as you do sometimes, in a busy coffee bar in Leeds. We both aimed for the only empty table and arrived simultaneously, both pulling out a chair. I supposed that I should be a gentleman and concede ownership to a lady, but, well, I was not really a gentleman, and I had no real idea if she was actually a woman, never mind a lady.

"Shall we share?" She said, absolving me of any requirement to make a decision on whether should I claim or whether should I concede.

"What an excellent idea," I exclaimed and proceeded to sit down placing my mocha (medium) on the table before me. She was wearing a dark blue dress that seemed to fit her like a surgical glove, her shape obvious to those of us that may care to look.

"My name is Paul," I said.

She looked at me as if deciding whether to respond or just drink her coffee. She picked her coffee up and said, "mine is Lola."

"Oh, great name, we should have met in a club in Soho."

"Yes, yes, I know, and drunk champagne that tastes like Cherry Cola. Gosh, I have never heard that one." She took a drink of her coffee. I was sure that she was mentally tutting.

"Well, I can say that although you walked like a woman, you sure as heck don't sound like a man."

"Would it matter?"

"No, not in the slightest."

"Good."

"Good."

Well, this was going downhill fast. I picked up my Mocha and took a slurp and tried to disguise the fact that I had just burned my tongue, bloody thing was like napalm.

"God you must have an asbestos tongue," she said, "mine is way too hot to drink."

"Yup, as is mine, as I just discovered."

"Ah."

"I was distracted you see and was not thinking."

"Much better than the club in Soho line."

"Indeed, that, in hindsight, was remarkably lame, again, I was distracted,"

"Don't milk it, you had a win, take it."

"So Lola, I have possibly the most boring job in the world, I run my own company and am a Consultant that sorts out failing Government departments. The amount of government red tape that I have to wade through is just unbelievable."

"I bet there are stories that you could tell."

"There may be, only I am not allowed to tell them. It took a long time to get my security clearance, I for sure do not want to lose it."

"I see. Is this a roundabout way of you telling me that you are a spy and that do actually work in import and export."

"Ha, nothing so exciting, and even if I were, I could neither confirm nor deny it. What about you?"

"I am self employed as a legal secretary. I go from company to company on short contracts doing legal work. Exceedingly boring."

"I studied law once, oh, a very long time ago. I got as far as Carlill versus the Carbolic Smoke Ball Co and decided life was too short."

"Ha, yes, almost the beginning of Contract Case law that. You didn't study for long then, I think that is almost the first thing they teach you."

"Well, long enough to get an O Level in Law, and that is it. It was just not for me."

"Ah, so, an O Level. Heady stuff." She laughed. "I did four years at university to become a legal secretary."

"A little longer than my three months for an 'O' level then. Well done for surviving and coming out the other side."

"That was easy compared to the drivel that I have to deal with now, the stuff that they find too inconsequential to handle in chambers."

"I would ask you, but I expect you have a duty of confidentiality."

"Indeed I do, and there are a lot of very clever legal minds that would take me through every court in the land should I be silly enough to be indiscrete."

"Instead, may I ask you, I see you have no rings on your fingers, if you would care to meet me for dinner one evening?"

"I see. You don't really waste any time, do you?"

"Well, you say that, but it is over four minutes since we sat at this table, and some would consider that a considerable delay in proceedings."

"Indeed, they might, I would not however."

"Ah, I see."

"I will, however, accept your offer for dinner, we will however share the bill."

"Okay, not my usual position, if I invite, I pay, usually."

"Nothing here is usual."

"Okay, where would you like to meet, what food do you like?"

"Pretty much anything, I live in Shipley, somewhere that way?" Not too far from me then, good.

"Okay, how about the Pepper Mill?" I suggested.

"You know it?"

"I have been a few times, and it has always been okay. How about I buy the food, and you chose a bottle of wine?"

"Okay, seems fair, how far is that from you?"

"Not far, I live in Cottingley, so, I usually go to Bingley, but often Shipley too."

"What time?"

"How about I meet you there at seven, outside unless it is raining, otherwise inside if it is."

"Okay, that works." She had finished her macchiato, 'I must get off now, see you later."

"Indeed." I stood as she left and then sat down again, and I finished my mocha. Interesting, strange how the world turns sometimes.

I left the coffee bar and headed to the carpark to get my car and drive home. The weather was iffy, sort of raining and sort of not. It was wet in the air, so I got almost as wet walking back to the car as I would have had it been actually raining. But I felt good and a bit of wet didn't bother me.

Back home I turned on the espresso machine, ground some beans and sat at my laptop for an hour, just doing client work. I closed the laptop and went up to my room, opened the window for some air, tidied the bed and stripped off. Todays shirt and underpants went in the laundry, I went in the shower.

I had the shower on full rain shower mode, absolutely coming down on me, it was drenching. I stepped back and rubbed gel in everywhere, arse, crotch, pits, the lot, and then back under the water to sluice it all away.

I shaved, and then I shaved again, and then I smothered my face in moisturiser to ensure no razor burn. I went down and made another espresso and did myself a piece of toast, I didn't want to turn up with a rumbling stomach.

I sat and ate my toast and then took my coffee back upstairs whilst I decided what to wear. I decided on grey slacks, white cotton oxford shirt, and then a green jacket. Made sure that there were hankies in the pockets, just in case.

Back in the bathroom I checked my face, no overt shininess from the moisturiser, no blotchiness from the shaving. I deodorised and sprayed Issey Miyake aftershave and then drank the last of my coffee and started to get dressed. First plain grey socks, silk boxers, my shirt, then my slacks and a belt, and then my jacket. I looked in the mirror. Perfect.

I checked my wallet, cash, cards, condom in the discrete pouch, some one pound and two-pound coins. Phone was charged; everything was as it should be. I booked an Uber and waited a few minutes for it to arrive. It dropped me off outside the Pepper Pot at a couple of minutes before seven.

Lola arrived in the next Uber, excellent timing. She got out of the car and was wearing a sublime dark mid-length cocktail dress, heels and a clutch style handbag. She looked pretty stunning.

"Well, good evening, may I say that you look pretty darn stunning." Well, I had to gush a bit.

"Thank you, shall we go in?"

"Yes of course."

There were a few free tables available. I explained to the greeter that I had booked, gave her my name and she asked if we had a preference to where we sat.

"Where would you like to sit?" I asked Lola.

"That one over there looks good, it isn't by the door, the toilets or the kitchen."

"Okay."

We walked over and I held her chair for her as she sat, I then sat down, and the greeter handed us menus. The menu looked pretty varied, I just hoped that she wasn't vegan, the vegetarian or vegan choice was a bit limited.

"Would you like a drink whilst you peruse the menus," the greeter asked.

"Glass of Chardonnay please," Lola said, and I said I would have the same. Well, why not, it would go with most things.

The greeter bustled away and I could see her talking to one of the barmen, presumably giving our drink order.

"Not bad looking menu Lola, anything catch your eye?" I asked.

"I fancy the potted crab to start, and then possibly the cod."

"Okay, I am thinking the salad starter and the pork main."

"Okay."

At that moment the greeter, who was obviously now our server, came back with our wine, slightly annoyingly giving me my glass first. I am a little old fashioned and would have preferred Lola to be served first. She then asked if we had decided and we both gave her our choices.

I picked up my glass and held it towards Lola, "Cheers," I said.

"Cheers," she responded and then took a sip. "Actually, not bad. See what you think."

I took a sip. Crisp and dry, a wonderful white Burgundy, I agreed it was "not bad at all."

"Actually," I said, "that is one of the better Burgundy's that I have had. It doesn't taste like a run of the mill supermarket wine."

"Right then," Lola caught the attention of our server and called her over.

"Is everything alright with the wine," she asked, her face looking concerned.

"Yes," Lola answered, "Can you get us a full bottle please, thank you,"

The server looked relieved and hurried to the bar. The bar man smiled and nodded and looked in our direction and gave us a thumbs up. I suspect that we had just pleased him no end. I wonder if he was the wine buyer and had picked this and we had given justification to his choice.

"So then," I said, "Legal secretary. I would imagine it is a lot more involved than people would think."

"It is, and if I do say so myself, I am good at it. I get a lot of repeat business, and am often asked if I would consider joining the practice full time."

"And have you been tempted."

"Lord no, I charge them twice what they would give me as a salary. I am planning on retiring at fifty and I want to have a well funded retirement. I can't do that on a salaried post."

"I fully understand, pretty much the same reason I run my own company, I can work my own hours, get a far better remuneration than any salaried position would give me, and whilst I don't have a target of fifty to retire, it will be at some point in my fifties."

We chatted on, exchanging anecdotes about work, without revealing anything improper, and then all too soon it was time for coffee.

"Goodness, where has the evening gone," I wondered aloud.

"Yes, time flies, we must be having fun."

"Well Lola, I have certainly had a good time, and I would love to do this again. If you would?"

"Yes, I would actually, I didn't know what to expect, of course, and it has turned out good."

We drank our coffee's, settled the bill and then exchanged phone numbers. Lola said that she was free on Friday, if I was, and we arranged to meet up again, venue to be determined. I suggested that she choose, and that we arrange it all via text.

I waited with her for her Uber, kissed her cheek and held her hand as she got in. I wondered if I would see her again, I hoped so, I had enjoyed her company.

The next day, just as I got home from work, my sister Petra turned up unannounced, throwing her arms around me and squeezing herself against me.

"Good job you didn't turn up yesterday, I was out with a lady."

"Ooh, hot date was it?"

"Well, it was a first date, we met wrangling over the last free table in a Leeds coffee shop."

"I am sure that is a story in itself."

"It may be, but not one I want to share."

"Oh, is that so?" And she hugged me to her again, pressing her body tightly against mine, and of course, my dick hardened.

"Oh, that feels good," she said, pulling away a little and grabbing my dick through my trousers. "Oh, this feels very good, did it come out to play yesterday?"

She let go of my dick and then started to undo my belt and then the button on my trousers and lowered my zip. Her hand pushed inside my pants and grabbed my dick, squeezing it.

"Did it Paul? Did it come out to play?"

I gasped, "no, we just had a meal."

She pushed my trousers down, using her foot to push them all the way to my ankles. She held my dick, squeezed it and began to wank me, fast and hard, my foreskin feeling as if it were going to be ripped off as she pushed so far down.

"Oh fuck," I gasped, and she stopped and let go.

"No, Paul, you are not getting yours until I get mine."

Petra turned and went upstairs. I stepped out of my trousers and underpants and followed her, my dick waggling as I walked. Petra was in my bedroom and was just pulling her knickers down, adding them to the pile of her clothes on my bedroom chair. Naked, she lay on my bed, her finger stroking through her crease.

I pulled the rest of my clothes off and joined her, kneeling between her ankles I dipped forward and took in her aroma, it was heady, sweet and full of desire. I used my fingers and teased her gash apart, her valley glistening with moisture, her inner lips quivering with anticipation.

I leant further forward, my tongue sliding between her inner lips as they folded around my tongue, as if they were caressing it.

"Oh fuck yeah," Petra said as my fingers circled her entrance, dipping slightly in, widening her, my tongue pressing at her clitoris as my fingers pressed at her opening.

Petra gasped loudly and half arched her back as my fingers entered her all the way, waggling and widening inside her, a knuckle pressing on her G Spot, her fanny clenching and gripping as my tongue nibbled at her clit.

"Oh Fuck Paul, I need to come here more often for my dose of man joy," she said between gasps.

'Man Joy?' It's just a shag, I thought as my fingers began to go in and out of her fanny, finger fucking my sister as she lay gasping on my bed. I sucked her clitoris hard into my mouth, but left it almost untouched, my tongue just very lightly touching it.

I pulled away and knelt back up. I rolled Petra over and pulled her back into a kneeling position, her buttocks apart, her fanny and arse before me, inviting me. I moved closer, my dick pressed against her arse, pushing as if about to enter, and then I slipped down and filled her fanny in a single thrust.

"Oh my good God," she gasped as I began to shag her, pressing in and then pulling almost out, her arse quivering, twitching as I it wanted to be next, it may be, I hadn't decided where I was going to deposit my seed, fanny or arse, arse or fanny.

I could feel my balls twitching as they swung between my legs, I could feel her fanny clenching and tightening on my dick, I knew that I wouldn't last long, I had dreamt of Lola, as yet undiscovered, and my own arousal was high, Petra was just a surrogate.

The sounds of me slapping against her arse echoed around my bedroom, accompanied by her gasps as I bottomed out in her fanny. I contemplated pulling out and deep diving into her arse, but my balls decided against it, before I could pull out and push, my balls twitched and I felt a pain deep in my root and my dick erupted inside Petra's fanny.

Spurt after spurt, filling her fanny, flooding her womb, squirting out along the sides of my dick, soaking my crotch, dribbling down onto my balls. Petra's fanny clenched tight, her walls holding and squeezing and her fingers scrunched up into my bed, and she screamed loud, gasping, laughing screaming, her fanny pulsing on my dick.

I leant back and my dick left her fanny with a gurgle and a 'plop'. I rolled over and lay on my back next to the still kneeling Petra. She was gasping, her chest heaving, her boobs swaying as she sought to recover. She slumped down and rolled over too.

"Jesus, what a fuck," she said.

"Happy to oblige," I said as my softening dick lay dribbling the last of its spunk onto my thigh.

"I actually wanted to ask you a favour."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I am going on a date with Michael on Saturday, and he wants a date for his sister, would you consider a blind date?"

"What is she like?"

"Same height as me, blond, bigger boobs, about the same size, not entirely thick, but not the sharpest penny."

"Why hasn't she got a boyfriend of her own?"

"God knows, why haven't you got a girlfriend?"

"Well, I might have. If I am not going out on Saturday with Lola, then yes, I can help you, if I am, then no."

"Meet her in an old club in Soho did you?"

"Stop it."

She laughed quietly to herself, a finger idly playing with her fanny crease, wiping my deposit up and down.

"You ought to clean this up," she said.

"Ladies first," I said pointing at my spunk covered dick.

Lola texted me, 'Friday still okay?'

'Sounds good, where?' I sent back.

'Lounge Bingley 7pm' came the reply.

'it's a date' I sent back.

She sent me a kiss emoji in return.

I sent a text to Petra saying that I was going out on Friday, so would be clear for Saturday. I got a text back saying that she would pick me up at 6.30.

I sat and wondered about shaving. I went and sat on the loo and got the clippers out and shortened all my groin hair to just a few mil long, the shortest setting it had. The next setting was the shears next to the skin which left only a slight stubble, and then the razor to take it down to bare skin.

I stopped after I had used the clippers and looked in the mirror. It looked stupid. It all had to go. I moved to the edge of the bath tub, took the clipper head off and ran over everywhere south of my navel with the shears. Before any itch could start, I lathered everywhere with gel and sat and shaved the lot off.

I smothered everywhere with moisturiser, I actually use after sun, it is excellent, and is also a bit of a lubricant, and as I smothered my dick and balls, my dick grew and hardened, obviously to ensure that every where was covered and moisturised. I gripped my dick and wanked. Hard and fast, gasping as I spurted into the bath, gasping for breath.

Friday came and I went through my showering and dressing routine. The stubble hadn't shown in my groin yet, and so didn't need anything more than moisturising. I selected stone coloured trousers, a blue check shirt and a dark blue jacket. Silk boxers again. The Uber beeped its horn and shortly after dropped me off on the high street, it was a short walk to the Lounge.

I was waiting outside when Lola arrived, I walked to greet her.

"Sadly, no evening food service, may I suggest walking down to The Potting Shed, it's about a ten minute walk."

"That's fine."

As we walked, I told her that the lounge now appeared to be more of a daytime eatery and evening drinking hole, it had changed since I was last there. I had been to the Potting Shed recently and when I was there, they did food on an evening. Failing that we could walk a little further to the White Horse Brasserie or the Brown Cow, both did superb food, but were a bit of a walk.

"Let's see what the Potting place is like."

We arrived and there were a couple of empty tables, we grabbed one and I went up to the bar and grabbed some menu's and two glasses of Chardonnay.

Back at the table I handed her a glass of wine, "fuel for if we have to move on I said."

She laughed. "There is plenty on here I'd have, so, for me, no need to move on. This wine is okay, certainly good enough, so I suggest that we stay here."