Party Time

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Even though Halloween had passed, my girl friend wanted to drag me to a party in the city, at a private lesbian club she is a member at. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a party – and partying with a bunch of girls is right up my alley – but going attached to Reenie. We aren’t lovers as much as we are fuck buddies. We didn’t really hit it off in the friendship department, but physically we both decided that sex together was a hell of a lot better than masturbation.

For several reasons my interest in girls is kept pretty private. Partly work, partly family, here in my home town I tend to keep that side of me quiet. For that reason I was figuring my time here would be pretty dry, and then I met Reenie at work. Reen and I are complete opposites. She’s short, I am tall, she’s a physical fitness teacher, I am into computers, she’s gay and I am bi. In temperament we are opposites as well. I tend to be more daring and volatile; she’s quiet, but equally as determined as I am. She is also drop-dead gorgeous! Heart-shaped face and a beautifully proportioned athletic body, blondish hair. I am much taller, also athletic with slightly wider hips than bust. Together we look like Mutt and Jeff, but we fit together well, physically. Emotionally we didn’t hit it off at all. There is just something there. While she’s incredible in bed, it’s like nothing really touches her. I don’t know what it is, but like I said, fuck buddies, not lovers. For whatever reason — it works for us.

The week before Halloween Reenie mentions this party. She has this idea about going as a big game hunter with me as her captive cat. Yea, right! I am not going anywhere as her anything! She seems to accept that but still presses me to attend the party. I figure what the hell, I can always do with a good time and being in an anonymous crowd in the city would let me let my hair down a bit.

First bone of contention is Renee’s idea of a costume. Now I am not naive, but a cat’s tail doesn’t have an inflatable plug which goes you-know-where — no effin’ way. I mean I have a great cat suit and not only am I not cutting it for this thing, the idea of walking and dancing with this thing in me didn’t sound like fun. Reenie acted all hurt when I declined, but I made it up to her later that afternoon. I can’t believe she brought that thing to work to show me. Don’t get me wrong, I love all kinds of toys, and my rear is certainly not virginal, but you try dancing with something like that! I dare you! The second problem was her wanting me to wear a collar and leash. She talked me into the chain collar, but no leash. I wasn’t going as her captive or even her property. I was going to party and didn’t want anyone to think she had any rights on me.

Friday rolls around, I pack my costume, with my more typical tail, and after work, meet Reen at her place and we change and head into the city. She’s all done up in a great silk blouse, crossed bandoliers and a gun belt, Wellington boots and a screwy looking pith helmet. She looked great, except for the helmet. Mine was wilder. A black body-hugging cat suit with a v-neck to show what cleavage I have, an open-front vest striped in two shades of black, one slightly sparkly, laced high-heeled sandals, and a bendable tail done in a tight spiral, hair all blown out and a combination ears and partial face mask. I will admit looking damn hot. Oh, I may not have mentioned it, I am not exactly modest!

Reenie kept touching me all the way into the city. By the time we got there I was debating just finding a hotel room, but Reen wasn’t going to miss this party. She warned me that things could get pretty wild and that I shouldn’t be shocked. Reenie and I don’t know each other all that well, but I doubt anything that happens would be all that shocking. I’ve been in some wild clubs before including a party in a club in San Fran where the doors were closed and locked at 1AM and nobody left before noon the next day. Now that was a party!

We arrive a little later than planned, so we head right to the party instead of getting a hotel room. The club is close to the downtown area in part of the city I didn’t know. It looked like an old brownstone building, but apparently all the floors were part of the club. The windows were dark; I thought we were in the wrong place. Reen explained that the windows are doubled covered on the inside for both sound and light privacy. The buildings on each side are owned by the club and rented as apartments to members. This way there are never any problems about late parties and noise. The whole arrangement whistled up thoughts of some serious money. Who owns three brownstones in this city? The real estate prices are unreal!

We enter the main entrance and a tall Viking of a female welcomes us and addresses Reenie by name. Reen intros me and I am amazed at the strength of her grip and the dazzle of her smile. Her name is Ing (pronounced Inj) and she says she’s been looking forward to meeting me ever since Reenie told her about me. I am not used to looking eye to eye with most women, but Ing was exactly my height, even considering our heels. Reenie starts laughing and we both look at her, still clasping hands.

“You two look like the image escort bayan and the negative of a photograph,” she says.

Thinking about it, she was right. Ing is my height, blonde – almost white hair, dressed as a white cat, in a similar cut, but white cat suit with white high heeled sandals. We laugh and Ing pulls me close for a second. “Save me a dance later!” she whispers to me, her voice sending a chill of anticipation up my spine.

Reen tugs my arm to drags me deeper into the building towards the noise that is obviously a party. “I didn’t know Ing would be dressed as a cat, but I am glad she was, you two looked amazing together.” she says while laughing.

We enter another set of doors and into Wonderland. The rest of the first floor of the brownstone was wide open except for some structural columns. The room was brightly lit with lots of mirrors all around the room. It must have been almost 10,000 square feet. The center clears for dancing, small tables scattered around, two small bars and there was an all-girl band playing nice music perfect for dancing. My hips were already moving as I looked around the room at everything. Such a beautiful sight and no sign of any testosterone as far as the eye can see! OK, I know I am bi, but right now guys aren’t an interest. I have no problems with them, just no looking for another no-brainer with a penis attached. The ceiling was at least 12 feet, and the walls covered in all types of mirrors, there must have been over a hundred of them. The room was full but not crowded. Small groups of women gathered at various points, quite a few on the dance floor. No a collection of supermodels, but an interesting group of women.

There is one thing I have always loved about a lesbian bar, the lack of a meat market attitude I have seen all too often. I hate walking into a bar and seeing every male head turn. I really hate to see guys looking through or past their girlfriends/wives to checkout whoever just walked in. I used to chalk it up to just curiosity, I mean I like to see who walks into a room, but I never interrupt a conversation to do it. Well I wasn’t overwhelmingly aware of it until I walked into a girl bar in San Fran and damn few heads turned. It’s funny; at first I thought there was something wrong with me :-). As time went on I realized that in most bars it’s the guys who seem to keep their radar on all the time. In a girl club, you will get checked out eventually, but rarely as rudely as guys do it. I know, just whining, but it’s a pleasant change!

Reenie starts dragging me deeper into the room. Her target is a small group sitting at a table. I hear someone call her name as I shrug off her hand to make my own approach. There are three women sitting at a table for 6. One is a delightfully plump red-head, a slender blond with a very introspective look on her face, and another blond with a very nice face, but more athletic a figure. The red-head jumped up and rushed Reenie, giving her a bone-breaking hug. The red-head was heavy, but incredibly light on her feet. Reenie returned the hug and gestured to me to catch up.

The red-head turned her green eyes to me and I realized that I was looking at an older copy of Reenie. “Brooke, meet my sister Regina.” she said. She pronounced it with a long ‘I’, like vagina. Regina smiled 1000 watts at me and held out her hand. “The name’s Reggie. Renee is the only one who still calls me Regina.”

I smile and take her hand. “Hi, I’m Brooke.” She nods knowingly and it makes me wonder what kind of billing Reenie gave me. Reggie tugs me to a chair and quickly introduces me to the two blondes. Ann and Beth, but I am not sure which is which. A waitress appears and takes our drink order while I sit back and enjoy the atmosphere while Reen and Reggie get caught up. One of the blondes keeps peeking at me through her hair. I can’t figure out if she is Ann or Beth, but I am not worried about it yet.

The band strikes up one of my favorite songs and my hips start moving on their own. Reggie notices and asks me to dance. Who am I to turn a dance down and we head out to some slow music. She holds me, and starts leading. I pull her a little closer so we can chat. I ask her what lies Reenie has been telling and she chatters in my ear the whole song about things apparently Reenie has said. Let’s just say Reenie exaggerates. The dance was nice and Reggie kisses me almost chastely and leads me back to the table.

For a wild party, things were pretty tame, in fact, kind of dull. The music was wonderful, and the drinks were not typical house brands. There was finger food galore, including my weaknesses of shrimp and crab. For some reason I caught an air of anticipation, but I wasn’t catching any reason for it. I just decided to go with the flow and enjoy myself, letting things happen.

Two hours later and about 10 dances with different girls, I was starting to get a little antsy. I mean 10 different girls and they all hold me like I am their kid sister and offer simple kisses, or worse, kissy noises near my cheek. I was getting a little tired of it when Ing stalked into the room and closed the big double-doors from the entryway. I glanced at my watch and bursa vip escort realized it was 10PM already. The band stopped in mid-note and we all watched as Ing made a big production about locking the door with a large brass key.

Applause broke out and the lights dimmed quickly. Hmmm maybe I had spoken too soon?

The lights lowered and 6 dancers came out from a side door. The music slowed as the six began a wonderfully erotic dance. It took my breath away as the girls danced a subtle but highly suggestive dance. Their hands wandering all over their bodies as they all but masturbated in front of us. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as they got closer to each table, leaving an article of clothing on each one. This was not a simple striptease, no – this was a work of sexual art that had me clenching my thighs together and holding the arms of my chair so I wouldn’t reach out and try and touch one of these angels.

One by one they moved around the room, weaving a spell around all of us. An incredibly limber blonde left some gossamer fabric on our table as she went around us, touching each of us lightly. Her fingers left a trail of fire on my neck as my breath was stolen completely away. All six dancers stopped in the center of the room simultaneously. Six beautiful nude women who had taken part of our souls with them stopped with their arms high in triumph. The music ended suddenly and the lights went completely out. After a long pause tremendous applause rang out from an appreciative audience.

While everyone was clapping I reached out and captured the cloth on the table. Bringing it to my face I could smell a light scent of perfume, sweat, and a touch of feminine arousal. The lights came back up and I had the blonde dancer’s panties as my prize. The evening was improving. Hot breath on my neck startled me. “You can return them for a private introduction with her, or keep them as a souvenir.” Ing whispered in my ear. Her hand touched my shoulder as her teeth grazed across the back of my neck, sending more chills down to the core of my being. I moaned into the panties still held to my face.

I turned my head quickly and Ing had Houdini’ed on me. When I turned back everyone was looking and starting to snicker at me. I thrust the panties down into my lap, but the damage was done. They started laughing. I think it was the obvious moan that got them. Trying to salvage as much dignity as I could, I looked back at the dance floor, but the dancers had disappeared now as well.

Refusing the look at my tablemates, who were still laughing, I spied a small sign and beat a quick retreat to the loo. Struggling out of the cat suit, I sit down to take a moment and collect myself. I just remembered why I hate this suit; it’s perfectly sheer with just enough material in strategic places to be able to wear it in public. The only problem is that ingress and egress is through the neck. Makes it tough, but the effect is well worth it. Rowing, weights, volleyball, bicycling, and treadmill work wonders for the body. I already warned you, modest I am not. Sitting there also made me realize that my house key, car key, ID, and money are tucked in two small pouches tucked in the leg cuff of the cat suit and the sandal ties hold them in place. In other words, no purse, so what in the hell am I going to do with the panties? They crunch up nice and small, but not that small! Even with the embarrassment, I had no plans to let go of my prize!

Pulling the cat suit back to my waist and stepping out of the stall to get more elbow room to fight my way back in. Lo and behold, guess who is standing at the mirror, Ing. Damn she moves silently. She is touching up her hair when I come out and I freeze. Ing looked at me hanging out there. OK, so my A and a smidgen cup size titties can’t really be called hanging, but dammit a cat suit looks like hell unless it’s pulled all the way up. Ing smiled, “Maneuvering room, right?”

“Hell yes!” I reply conspiringly. She moved behind me and started helping by tugging the fabric up. Unable to talk, I stand there like an idiot as she helps me back into my suit. Once I was all back in, She presses against my back and reaches around, cupping my breasts. Again, the hot breath stroked my ear, “Wait for me and you can help me back into mine.”

Just before she pulls away, I open my eyes. I hadn’t realized they had closed. I see an image I will never forget. Her skin was almost translucent, her makeup accentuating her paleness. Contrasting was my olive skin and darker makeup. Her white, lace covered hands holding my breasts, with my black covered hands on her wrists. Reenie was right, the perfect reverse image. We were absolutely striking together.

She broke away and entered the stall while I waited, brushing my hair. In my mind’s eye I could still see her behind me. My hand brushed against my own breast and I could feel the nipple as hard as a pebble. I heard her finish and turned as she came out. My mouth fell open; she was carrying her sandals and suit. She was naked and magnificent. From the tips of her white painted toenails to the perfect cut of her white/blonde hair, she was incredible! bursa elit escort She realized how awestruck I was, so she turned slowly. Well toned back and arms, narrow waist, nice hips and the world’s most perfect ass on top of long, well-shaped legs. Wow!

Clearing her throat, she held up her suit. Smiling, I take it from her while she was still turned away from me; I steal a page from her book and plant a kiss on the nape of her neck. I thrill at the shiver that goes through her. She turns and scoots up on the vanity, lifting one leg toward me. I can now see her every charm and see her totally hairless mons showing evident signs of sexual arousal. I realized how turned on I was by how wet I was becoming.

Without a word, I kneel at her feet and start slipping the legging on one foot. Taking the time to run my hands over her skin, before and after as I worked the suit slowly up her body. I was in heaven, exploring her, discovering her sensitive spots. Her feet were warm to the touch, sensitive, but not ticklish. Behind the knee caused her to clench her teeth and inhale. She was ticklish inside her thighs, and it seemed to take me forever to get the fabric to lay smooth on her thighs. She got off the vanity and faced the mirror, her suit still below her hips. From behind, I press a gentle kiss right at the base of her spine, which elicited a low growl from one of us; I am not sure who. Working the material over her hips and ass was pure bliss for me. Her skin was smooth and firm, my hands taking every liberty. Once I reached her waist, I reached around and smoothed the fit over her mound. She was as hot as I was, and probably as wet. The slightly thicker material prevented her moisture from showing, but the skin tight fit made her arousal apparent even in her reflection. In the mirror she was watching my black-clad hand rubbing her sex firmly. Every move of my hand caused her to shift her ass against me. I met her eyes as her hand covered mine stopping its motion.

“Our first orgasm”, she said breathlessly, “isn’t going to happen in the bathroom.” I pause at the implication as her strong hands pull mine off. I almost fight her, but the word “first” stilled my hand. I push myself away and we both stand there regaining our composure. The image in the mirror was priceless; she put her hands on the vanity for support, breathing like she had actually cum. Her face flushed with excitement and with the effort it took to stop. I was leaning against the edge of the stall, equally breathing hard. Our eyes shining as she stands up to pull up her suit. I step over to help and, with only one cupping of each breast, I worked the suit over them, I behaved myself.

We spent a few minutes calming down, fixing our hair. Ing picked up my prize panties and rolled them into a tiny cylinder. She tucked then between my breasts, with a little edge of material showing. Smiling she suggested we rejoin the party. The party was certainly not the same one I left. The band was swinging, the room was packed, and the dancing was furious. Before we entered the fray, I grabbed Ing’s arm and asked her what was up. She briefly explained, “A few times anti-gay zealots crashed the party and ruined things. We lock the door at 10PM to guests and the games begin.”

“So where did all these people come from?” I asked. “They came over from the upstairs and from the adjoining buildings. We own all three and have connecting doors upstairs.” she answered with pride. For a moment I was stunned at everything — the architecture, the planning, and most of all, the expense. I tried to grab Ing once more but she outdistanced me in the crowd. I wanted to ask her, “Who was we?” but I couldn’t catch her before she was lost in the crowd.

Entering the throng, I was struck by the rave-like atmosphere in the room. It felt like a jolt of adrenaline. The crowd was packed in, almost body to body, and almost everyone was dancing wildly. A cute little brunette grab my hands and dragged me deeper, I started feeling hands touching me from every direction. The little brunette put my hands on her hips and we started dancing. The hands were more . . . you know it’s hard to describe. The hands were soft touches and strokes, non-threatening and relaxing, but at the same time sensual and exciting. The brunette kissed me, teasing my lips with her tongue as someone else pressed their breasts against my back. She disappears right in front of me to be replaced by a taller brunette who also kissed me. I realized the whole crowd was dancing and kissing and touching. I wasn’t being singled out. I started getting with the program and kissing who ever appeared in front of me while letting my hands wander across the women around me. I have to tell you that kissing is a definite turn-on for me. I started catching some of the women and drawing them into a deeper, more sensual kisses. Tongues started tangling, and then the woman would fade out to be replaced by another, who felt and tasted different, but equally delightful. Every nerve ending was on fire when Reenie kissed me, somehow I knew it was her, how I have no idea. My eyes were closed as I went from women to woman. Reenie tasted familiar, so I opened my eyes and there she was. Her blouse was open to the waist, her ammo belts were gone, and her hat was hanging on a band down her back. She smiled at me. Almost screaming she asked, “You OK?” “Yea”, I yelled back as a red-head grabbed and kissed her and then Ing flashed like a bright light in front of me.

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