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“Does your pussy taste as good as you smell?” Tristan’s inquiry made me shudder. I grunted an unintelligible response.
“You gotta let me sample some of that. You wanna get with me?” Her voice was a low, sensual rumble.
Unable to speak, I said nothing, unsure what to say, what was going on with me that I was attracted to this woman. There I stood, in a public venue, captured in the arms of a strange woman, fighting the strong urge to drop my pants and get down and dirty right there on the tiled floor.
It dawned on me that security cameras were rolling, but I was beyond caring. It was difficult to summon rational thought and proper behavior with a vagina clenching up and pleading to be fucked.
Tristan released me. She peeked at her wristwatch, which was big, round-faced and manly. “Get rid of your giggly girlfriends. It shouldn’t take you more than a couple minutes to kick it like you have a headache. Tell ’em you have to bounce. After you get your situation straight, swing back by here.”
“Uh, okay,” I stammered but lingered, feeling as if I were in a dream-like state.
She frowned at her watch again. “Go handle your business.” She gave me a quick kiss on the lips. It was more a dismissive gesture than one of affection.
Following her order, I walked away and bumped smack into Astra and Lanie. Their sour expressions indicated that they were not pleased with my lengthy visit to the restroom.
“What took you so long? It’s late. We’re ready to go.” Astra’s mouth was set in a firm no-nonsense line.
“I was sick.” I touched my stomach. “Too many Cosmos.”
We walked to the parking lot on Bainbridge Street, exchanged air kisses and got in our separate cars. I paid my parking fee, pulled out of the lot and drove around the block, and then parked on a dark residential street.
Walking fast and cautiously looking over my shoulder in case Astra or Lanie caught me trying to get my creep on, I hurried back to South Street.
Inside the brightly lit sex shop, I craned my neck, looking for Tristan.
“Are you Nina?” a man working the register inquired.
I nodded, wondering how he knew my name.
“Your party is in the private room,” he said, using a discreet tone.
“The private room?” My whispery voice was squeaky and confused.
He pointed to the back of the store. “Walk straight back and knock on the door.”
For the love of God, why didn’t I just turn around and go home? Tristan was waiting for me in the stock room with the approval of the establishment. This twisted liaison was getting raunchier an
d stranger by the second. But I finally admitted to myself that I was bi-curious, so I mumbled a “thank you” and took awkward steps toward my illicit rendezvous.
Knowing that I was making an absolute fool of myself, I paused at the door with a plate that actually spelled out the word, “Private.” Never had I felt so out of control, so out of my element, but Tristan’s sexy murmurings and her earthy sexiness had piqued my interest. My libido was fully charged. There was no turning back.
Nervously, I raised a balled fist and rapped on the door.
Tristan cracked the door open. “Hey sexy,” she welcomed me, dimple on display, motioning for me to enter.
To my astonishment, there were no stacked boxes filled with sexual gizmos. The room was furnished with a plainly made bed and two metal folding chairs. Framed prints decorated the walls. I had stepped into a hidden, underground lifestyle. I felt disoriented, but before I could verbalize regret, before I could bow out gracefully, Tristan’s mouth claimed mine.
Her aggressive tongue parted my lips, snaked in and out of my mouth. She clutched handfuls of my hair and pulled until I cried out from the sweet pain. She pulled her mouth away. “You want me, baby?” she asked and smiled when I gasped a desperate, “Yes!”
Satisfied with my frantic state of sexual need, she slid her hands around my waist and roughly pulled me closer until we were groin-to-groin. Holding her tight, I positioned my clit against the hard rod hidden in her pants that felt exactly like an erect penis. Our gyrating hips rocked in sync. My breathing became harsh as desire mounted.
“Take your clothes off, baby.” Tristan tugged at the waistband of my pants and then began removing her own clothing.
Quickly, I kicked off my shoes and stole a glance. Standing sideways from me, Tristan skimmed off her top. Her small breasts, topped by tiny brown nipples, jiggled deliciously as she moved. She turned away and removed her denim pants, shed her boxers. Her naked ass was toned and tight. The contrast of soft and feminine and rock-hard made my pussy burn.
But when she turned and faced me, I nearly lost my breath. She was wearing the hell out of the harnessed, medium-brown colored dick. She looked so damn sexy with that big brown cock, I almost tripped trying to get out of my pants.
Completely nude, I stretched out on the bed. Sexual tension knotted inside my creamy core, but I squeezed my legs together to alleviate the pressure.
