("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2009. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- The Lesbian Bar by Anonymous (address withheld) *** A guy sets up an interesting party. (FF, MFF, orgy, toys) *** Dark, smoky bar. Ceiling a little lower, I think, than is legal. And a pair of gorgeous women peeling deliberately out of their clothes, thrilled for once to have an audience of their own to dance for, not the usual males trying to mask their hopeless lust with boredom. A packed house of women yell the dancers on, once in a while even reaching out to them with a proffered dollar bill. Foxy as these girls are, it's hard for me to stay in the here and now. The little stripper reminds me of Maria... Maria, who stole my heart away on my very first day at Club Lust. This girl has dark hair that tumbles in loose curls down her back, like Maria's, and flawless tits, body worked out and tight, but not at all like some of the too-skinny chicks who work the clubs. (Sometimes I can't even enjoy the show for worrying about anorexia or heroin.) Her face even resembles Maria's. But she's Maria in miniature, a foot shorter, must be a size 4. Maria was an Amazon, a perfect woman made larger than life. * On my first day at Club Lust, Maria hiked her wasabi- colored Spandex dress up over her ass and slowly spun round the brass pole, flashing flushed-pink pussy at all the men... and at me. 'God,' I thought, 'I'm gonna love this job.' Tonight her tiny look-alike swivels her hips and hikes her tight skirt up just that way. She's dancing to "Cream," maybe the sexiest of sexy Prince songs. Maria loved that song. We even danced together to it once. What a dance. "Cream," Prince purrs through the club's bass-heavy sound system, "Get on top..." Fred had called to give me some business. He knew all about my job at Club Lust because he was my accountant. In fact he was the one to point out to me that my legitimate business write-offs included wigs, rubber dresses, lingerie and condoms, if I got into any mischief on the side. "My birthday's coming up," he'd said on the phone, "and you know I always throw a big party. Well, this one's my fortieth, and I want something special, a girl-girl show and I thought you might know someone you'd like to work with. Hey, it's only fair I should give you a shot at earning back some of the money you pay me for doing your taxes." That Fred! What a sweet guy. "Do I ever know someone!" I said. "A long, tall drink of water, Fred. I'll get right back to you." I hung up and called Maria. "It's a special show," I told her. "I mean, it's his birthday, and he is my accountant. But he's also like this big dyke trapped in a man's body. All his friends are lesbians. I don't think I've ever known him to socialize with men. All the guests at this party will be women. If you want to do this gig with me, we have to do it right. They'll all be able to spot fake lesbo action. They want the genuine article." Maria said she didn't think we'd have a bit of trouble delivering the real thing. "Great," Fred said when I called him back. "A hundred and fifty bucks each, okay, and be here at nine on Saturday. I want it to be a surprise, so come dressed like you're guests." Maria and I pulled up at his hilltop home just before nine o'clock, dressed in pressed designer jeans and silk shirts, which is what I figured most of Fred's lesbian friends would be wearing. Whenever I ran into Fred and his pals at a club, the women were well- groomed professionals. I supposed all the dyke accountants in town would be there, probably a lawyer or two or three, and who knows who else. Not really the kind of women Maria or I socialized with, usually, but we could certainly dress the part. Sure enough, Fred gave us the thumbs-up when he answered the door. "We'll do the show in about half an hour," he whispered. "Everybody ought to be here by then. Just go ahead and mingle. Leslie made a huge bowl of pasta primavera--help yourselves." Of the 30 women who were at the party, only Leslie-- Fred's roommate--was in on it. At 20 past, she led us into her room so we could get ready. "Do you want any special music?" she asked, and Maria handed her that new Prince CD. That was the first time I heard "Cream" following Maria out of the bedroom when Leslie came to get us, watching that same green dress Maria wore at work begin to hike itself up toward her ass cheeks. Her walk was slinky, a slow stride that cocked her hips from side to side as she moved, and the movement itself--not her hands-- brought the skintight dress up her thighs. By the time we had moved to the center of Fred's living room the bottom curve of her butt showed, and I reached out for it just like I'd always wanted to do. Oh, what a creamy, luscious ass. Day after day I watched Maria drive men to rock-hard distraction with that ass, and now my palms cupped it like she was mine, all mine. I used to have a hard time finding women to have sex with, especially casual sex. I knew lots of women had that problem, but that didn't make me happy about it. Then I started doing all-girl shows at Club Lust. We were practically all bisexual there, and not just for the money. Even strippers who would never date other women outside the club thought the all-girl action shows were a big perk. As I pushed my hands under Maria's clinging dress I reflected for a second on the splendid irony of it: 30 pairs of lesbian eyes watched me while I explored Maria's magnificent ass. I would probably never be in a position to run my hands over any of their asses; for one thing, as a bisexual woman, I often didn't feel all that welcome in lesbian circles. And maybe if Fred weren't paying us a hundred and fifty bucks each to get to know each other better, Maria and I would have never had sex. I certainly wouldn't have been so bold as to grab her ass right away. Nor to run my fingers up over the tight Spandex to her breasts, just a little too large for my hands. Maria's hands were on me, too, touching, stroking. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Fred, looking pleased, so far. I was certainly pleased. Nothing feels like a tight body under tight Spandex. Nor can I think of anything that compares with the feeling of being stared at by myriad eyes as I start to get turned on--it made me aware of everything, my nipples going hard under her clever fingers, my own short skirt riding up my ass. Plus I had a surprise under that skirt, and now Maria began to rub against me so she could feel it. My hands tangled themselves up in that long, silky brown hair. Long, tall Maria brought her mouth down to mine--she had to bend over to kiss me, just like a man would, and I had to tilt my head up. Prince's voice cast a spell over me, and I pulled her down to the floor. She knelt over me, skirt all the way up over her magnificent ass now, her legs spread wide, straddling me. "Cream," Prince sang, "get on top." You would have thought Maria was starring in the video. Very deliberately, in the exaggerated way of sex performers, she rubbed her pussy on my strapped-on cock. Now we did the dance lying down, and it surprised me how quiet our audience was. At Club Lust this kind of action would have drawn hoots and cries of appreciation. These women sat silently, regarding us with as much fascination, I think, as a crowd of men would have displayed, but still as church mice. Still, I had the best view in the place. I lay on my back, pumping my hips up slowly, trying to keep it sensuous. Hold off on the lewd body movements until the crowd warms up, I thought--if it ever does. I could look right up Maria's body, see her up on her knees straddling me--"you're wicked cute and baby you know it," Prince sang to her, and I could almost hear the way she would sassily concur: "Uh-huh." Undulating on top of me, she stroked me into real heat, running her hands up my belly and over my breasts and inching my skirt up and up. Finally she revealed the strapped-on dildo. One brave woman yelled "Woo-hoo!" when she saw it. Too bad there weren't a few more cowgirls like her in the room. I had a small tube of lubricant tucked in my clingy red top. Maria removed it, then worked the Spandex up over my head. She could really get at my breasts now, and did, while I arched back and began to breathe hard. Then she slicked the dildo with lube and resumed rubbing her pussy against it, writhing now and, I could feel, almost catching her cunt on it. When she finally did rise up higher and position herself on it, her ass and pussy in full view of Fred and all his friends, she winked at me before starting the slow slide on my cock. The weight of her body settling onto it rubbed its base against my clit. And she threw her head back and began to fuck me. "Mmmmm, Cream, get on top..." Maria, fuck me good, honey. Make these power-suit girls wet between their legs while they try to figure out whether it's okay to howl. She had my tits in her hands and pumped herself on me so slowly I started to feel dizzy. She let it go on for another song, and by the end of it I was bucking like a little pony, fucking the slick silicone cock up into her while she, with big, slow humping motions, thrust down onto it. By the end of the second song she was arching her torso over with each thrust down so that her hair fell over her face. With each upstroke she flipped it back. As the third song began she lifted off me, kneeling to one side so her ass was pointing right at the silent, staring crowd. As she unbuckled my harness she rotated that perfect butt in little circles, a move that, when she did it at Club Lust, sometimes made men moan out loud. Here the silence only deepened--which I realized meant that all the women watching us, and Fred too, were holding their breath simultaneously. Maria tossed the harness and dildo aside and then pulled me up, where--standing, though a little weak- kneed--I felt her fingers push my skirt all the way up, leaving my pussy unobstructed. I spread my legs for her, rested my hands on her shoulders for balance, and her tongue crept up to my clit and circled it relentlessly. Just before the song's last chorus I came. (It's still a challenge to come standing up, but I've learned to do it; at Club Lust the staging of the show didn't always allow time to lie down. What was I supposed to do, miss the orgasm?) They never did hoot and holler, the dykes, not until our performance was over. With the last bars of the song we bowed, holding hands, and then slinked out just the way we came in, returning to Leslie's bedroom-- hearing shouts and applause follow us the whole way. The little stripper can't even take her G-string off tonight, because we're in a public club. But she strips down to that, and she and her dance partner caress each other, playfully tap each other's pretty butt, and kiss--careful to look sexy without getting the lipstick all smeared. Got to love those sex-industry femmes! Finally their song ends and they part, leaving the stage one after the other. All the way off they're still looking for tips and copped feels. It's amazing how eager we are for other women to do things that might get the men in the clubs a slap in the face. But stripping for women feels nothing like that work: It's a challenge, a shy triumph, trying to do the familiar moves differently for their eyes, which gaze on us with such wonder--whoever puts on a show just for women? No wonder they don't know how to take it. It's been almost four years since we danced to "Cream." Now shows for women aren't quite so rare--but still, this club tonight is a temple where the little beauty, this miniature Maria, dances with her sweet blonde friend to prove we deserve to watch someone hot, someone who's intent on making us gasp, making us howl. And we do. "I love that CD," Maria had said as she tugged her dress, sweaty from the dance, over her chestnut hair. It wasn't very personal, but her sparkling eyes said a lot more. "I love you, Maria," I said, meaning her dress, her dance, her flawless ass, her creamy skin and long dark hair, her flaming spirit. We kissed Fred and ran out into the night. END * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world contract HIV every year. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 64