by A. L. Brooks
Chris licked her lips and kissed Lou hard. She thrust her tongue into Lou’s mouth and swept her hands up Lou’s body to land on her breasts. Lou pushed into her, and Chris responded, squeezing and kneading through the fabric of Lou’s shirt and bra. Lou’s nipples tightened, and she kissed her harder. With her hands on Chris’s hips, she pulled her even closer and moved her pelvis shamelessly against the firmness of the dildo between them.
Groaning, Chris pulled back slightly and reached for the bottom of Lou’s shirt. She was surprisingly gentle and careful as she pulled it out of Lou’s jeans. She ran her hands up inside the shirt and roughly pulled the cups of Lou’s bra down to expose her breasts to the silky fabric on the inside of her shirt. Lou moaned, and Chris gave her a lascivious grin.
Lou wondered again at her own capacity to transform herself on nights like this. It gave her a freedom that wasn’t possible in her daytime life. And then, as Chris slipped her warm hands over Lou’s breasts and pinched Lou’s already hard nipples, Lou stopped analysing and just surrendered.
As her nipples and breasts were teased until she thought she might come just from that attention alone, she pulled Chris’s tee shirt from her trousers. She roamed underneath the fabric, finding warm skin and a bra filled with abundant breasts that she cupped and squeezed. They kissed again, and there was a heat in Chris’s eyes that signaled that foreplay was over.
“I want to fuck you sitting on that chair,” Chris breathed in her ear, and Lou nodded.
Just the thought of it made her cunt gush, delighted that Chris had tapped into exactly what Lou needed.
“It means you getting undressed from the waist down, though—is that okay?”
Lou smiled, touched by her concern. Another thing she loved about this place—yes, it was all about sex, about fucking, often without emotion, but that didn’t mean it was completely heartless.
“Yes.” Lou leaned in and ran her tongue softly around Chris’s mouth, loving the sound of the groan that came from somewhere deep in her chest. Lou stood back then and let Chris undo her jeans and gently tug them down to her knees. From there, Lou took over. She finished removing her shoes and socks and kicked off the jeans. Chris lifted the tails of Lou’s shirt and stared at Lou’s hips and ass.
“Fuck, that is seriously sexy.” Chris met Lou’s gaze before she ran her hands over Lou’s hips and hooked her thumbs under the slender waistband of her lacy G-string. As she gently peeled it down, she took Lou in another penetrating kiss.
It felt so good to be wanted this badly, to be swept up in someone else’s desire. She helped Chris push the G-string down past her hips and let it fall to the ground. She felt completely exposed, but strangely, it didn’t unnerve her.
Chris ran her hands over Lou’s ass, stroking gently at first, and then with firmer pressure, her fingers sinking into Lou’s soft flesh. She pressed her mouth into the juncture of Lou’s neck and collarbone, sucking and nibbling and sending delicious shivers down Lou’s back. As Chris cupped Lou’s ass strongly with one hand, she ran the fingers of the other hand through Lou’s wetness from behind, dipping just one fingertip into Lou’s cunt, teasing her with a hint of what was to come. Lou pushed against that finger, painfully aching for more, and Chris laughed against her skin.
“Soon, sexy. Soon.” She chuckled and lifted her head. “How about we get ourselves sat down now?”
Lou nodded eagerly. She was desperate to push this along and very happy that Chris seemed just as keen. She stepped back to give Chris room to unzip her leathers, salivating as the dildo was revealed; she was even more ready for this than she’d realised.
Chris caught her gaze and grinned. “Like what you see?” she asked, huskily, stroking one hand up the full length of the dildo and back down again.
“Oh shit, yes,” Lou growled, as her juices flowed even more. God, it had been a very long time since she’d wanted to be fucked this much.
“Then I think we’d better sit down, don’t you?”
Lou’s breath caught in her throat. She watched Chris as she sat down and adjusted her hips as she settled in the chair. Once Chris was positioned, Lou straddled the chair. Staring into Chris’s eyes, Lou waited there in quiet anticipation while Chris opened a condom and rolled it on.
“Something tells me you don’t need lube,” whispered Chris, and Lou shook her head. She whimpered as Chris ran her hands through her wetness and then used that to moisten the dildo. It looked about seven inches long, not a scary length, but it would fill Lou completely. Her breath hitched at the thought.
And then Chris placed her hands on Lou’s hips and, gripping firmly, guided Lou down. Lou closed her eyes, the exquisite eroticism of the moment overwhelming her. She was panting, loudly, and didn’t care. She reached down to position the dildo at her entrance and then placed both hands on Chris’s shoulders.
When the dildo entered her, slowly, she groaned with every slight thrust, pushing down for more and whispering, “Yes, oh yes,” again and again. When it was fully inside her, she feared she would come in seconds and didn’t want to. She wanted to make it last, and so she controlled her thoughts and her breathing. She relaxed into the rhythmic thrusting and the sheer pleasure of feeling it fill her. She opened her eyes at last and watched Chris’s own ecstasy playing out on her face. Chris’s breath came in heavy pants, and she pushed her face into Lou’s breasts, her hands gripping tightly onto Lou’s hips as she rode her harder and faster.
Lou was ready now. She wanted it—needed it. She let loose the last bit of control and came hard. The flush of it spread everywhere. She threw her head back and cried out. Chris groaned beneath her, and Lou let her push deep inside once more. Then she held Chris there, clinging tightly onto her shoulders to tell her to stay.
“So good,” murmured Chris near to Lou’s ear. “So fucking good. I need you to do something for me now.”
Lou nodded and met her heated gaze.
“Lick me.”
Without hesitating, Lou eased herself off the dildo, and Chris unbuckled the harness. She pushed it and her trousers down to her ankles and dropped the dildo to the floor. She shuffled forward on the chair, giving Lou a better angle, and opened her legs. Lou smiled and dropped to her knees. She used her thumbs to push back the thick curls from Chris’s swollen clit, and Chris laid back on the chair, eyes closed, chest heaving. Lou breathed in her musky scent, and then, using just the tip of her tongue, she teased her clit. Chris gasped and fisted her hands in Lou’s hair.
“Faster. Harder,” came the commands, and Lou obliged, pressing her face deeper into the warm wetness that tasted so sweet, letting the whole of her tongue get to work, licking and sucking. When Chris came, she pulled Lou even closer, nearly suffocating her. A long, loud groan wrenched from her throat as she thrust with each spasm of her orgasm.
* * *
Lou took her time with her second shower of the evening. She didn’t normally shower at the club, but having been so thoroughly, satisfyingly fucked, she was dripping and really didn’t want to travel home in such a state. She and Chris had parted with a kiss but barely a backwards glance. Chris had headed for the bathroom, too, dildo in hand. Would she come out looking for a second round? Why not? The evening had just got going; it wasn’t even eleven yet. But for Lou, for tonight, once was enough. She felt utterly sated and ready to go home.
She took a cab to her small flat in Hulme. It was early enough to get public transport if she wished, but she hated the crowds on a Friday night and felt safer getting a taxi. Thankfully, her driver was quiet; she hated the chatty ones. Her shyness normally kept conversation to a minimum anyway.
She made herself a cup of tea and sat drinking it in her darkened kitchen. She always did this, replaying the night’s events back like a movie and lingering over the best bits to keep the afterglow going just that little bit longer.
Lou grew blissfully tired. Tonight, she would have a deep, uninterrupted sleep. The perfect remedy after a night at the club.
* *
*
Monday morning rolled around again far too quickly for Lou’s liking. Since she actually liked her job, though, she didn’t have too much trouble getting out of bed when her six o’clock alarm went off. She followed her normal weekday routine—a quick slice of toast followed by a bus ride to the gym with her office outfit in her daypack.
The trip into the city centre took only fifteen minutes, followed by a five-minute walk to the fitness club. Once in the gym, she cranked up the volume on her iPod and did her usual set—a mile run followed by some free weights and abs work. She finished off with fifteen minutes on the cross-trainer. The dark-haired barwoman from the club was there again, doing a lengthy run on a treadmill, so Lou made sure to use equipment at the other end of the room. She had no desire to bring a connection to the club into her everyday life. In order for the club to remain an escape, they needed to be kept separate.
An hour later, her muscles burning and her body bathed in sweat, she showered and changed into her work clothes. She walked to the office via Pret for a second breakfast and her first coffee of the day. It was always the same pattern, all planned to keep her interactions with other humans to a level she found bearable.
By eight thirty, she was at her desk, tucked away at the back of the fourth floor, sipping her coffee while she fired up her PC. She supported the electronic purchase order system for this office plus the two offices in Birmingham and Glasgow, about two hundred staff in all. The system had been in use for over a year, so the issues she had to deal with were fairly straightforward.
Today she had ten new tickets, which was a pretty good day. That would mean she would have time to mentally prepare herself for her morning meeting. Lou didn’t normally do meetings if she could possibly avoid them, but the company had hired a new business analyst called Stephanie Jackson. She needed to review and map all systems and processes in use throughout the company. Stephanie had finally, after a few persistent emails, pinned Lou down to a meeting.
Lou’s nerves got the better of her at about a quarter ’til eleven, and she walked quickly to the toilets, worrying that she might actually be sick. Thankfully she wasn’t. Instead, she employed the breathing techniques she had learned to help with situations such as this, where she had to meet and converse with new people. It wasn’t a full panic attack. She’d had a couple of those in the past. These were more like anxiety attacks, and she’d become adept at managing them, if not preventing them.
She walked back to her desk and decided it was an Ella moment. Lou loved jazz, especially the female singers from the forties and fifties, although she’d happily listen to anyone and any era.
She sat back and closed her eyes for a moment, letting Ella’s velvet voice soothe her.
“Ella. Can’t beat her,” a woman said in a warm voice, and Lou sat upright with a start, her eyes popping open in shock.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” the woman said, voice full of concern. Instead of panicking as she normally would, Lou turned and looked up into a face so striking…so beautiful… She nearly forgot to breathe. The woman’s lightly tanned skin was framed by dark-blonde hair cut into a bob. Her face was dominated by incredible grey eyes, a strong nose, and plump lips that looked utterly kissable. Lou sat up straighter in her chair. Suddenly aware that she was staring, she stood and clumsily offered her hand, trying to remove that last thought about kissing.
“Hi. I’m Stephanie Jackson, nice to meet you.” She took Lou’s hand.
“Hi, likewise,” mumbled Lou. “Sorry. Lou Meacham, very nice to meet you.”
Stephanie smiled and looked a little strangely at Lou as she released their handshake. There was an awkward pause, and Lou had the strangest feeling that Stephanie was checking her out.
She dared to return Stephanie’s searching look, and the merest hint of a blush crept across Stephanie’s cheeks.
“So,” said Stephanie, breaking the contact first and clearing her throat. “Shall we get started?”
Lou nodded as she motioned Stephanie into the spare chair and sat back down alongside her.
* * *
Lou got home at her usual time, a little after six, and set about making herself some pasta. Chet Baker was on the iPod, and the music made her think back to her meeting earlier that day. She smiled as she cooked. She and Stephanie had conversed so easily, a first for Lou, especially when initially meeting a person.
Obviously, they’d mostly talked about work, and Stephanie had asked good questions. She even made a couple of suggestions for improvements that Lou was going to look at over the next few days. Lou had, without thinking, left her music playing the whole time they talked and had taken a secret delight in Stephanie’s obvious knowledge of the tracks. She even stopped Lou at one point to ask who a particular singer was, expressing clear joy in discovering a new vocalist.
Lou had actually interacted with someone, without stumbling—too much—and without feeling as if she wanted to crawl under the nearest desk and hide. Amazing.
She sat down at the breakfast bar with her food and took a sip from the juice she’d poured a little earlier. It had been so long since she’d tried to interact with another woman outside of the club, and she had no idea how she’d got through the casual chat with Stephanie as well as she had.
She’d been single for about five years when she’d decided to try getting out there again. She’d been lonely, and the loneliness had sunk into her soul so deeply it had fought past the fear and propelled her into action. The first time she’d finally plucked up courage and made it out the door and into a club, she hadn’t done too badly. She hadn’t actually talked to anyone, just drank a beer at the bar and done a lot of looking. She’d been approached by a few women who asked her to dance, but she’d declined, probably too abruptly, and they’d quickly backed off, looking hurt. She’d regretted her tone but couldn’t muster the courage to call them back. She’d gone home after only a couple of hours, but even that brief time had given her a tiny bit more courage. So a few weeks later, she’d tried again. This time, she did dance with someone, but found it so difficult to make eye contact that the woman had eventually drifted away.
She’d talked herself into one more visit a month after that, and that had been the last. She’d accepted dances from a couple of different women, worked really hard at eye contact, but couldn’t quite manage the conversation afterwards at the bar. The first woman had just shrugged and wandered off, but the second had taken it personally and had been fairly abusive about Lou’s lack of response. Despite a small part of Lou’s mind knowing that such intolerance wasn’t something she needed in her life, the damage was done. Lou resigned herself to being alone.
Then she’d read about the club in a magazine she’d found at the gym. It was the anonymity that appealed. Knowing she could walk in and, with only a little bravery, find some company even just for an hour. Knowing all that woman would want from her was physical, that she wouldn’t have to be witty or clever or have any conversation at all.
She’d still been incredibly nervous when she’d first ventured through the black door. God, what a release it had been that first time. And not just in the physical sense. She had missed sex, of course, but she’d been able to take care of that herself to a certain degree over the years. But what she had missed most was skin and lips and fingers and touching. Intimacy. The club gave her all of that, and she had gone home that first night and cried for about an hour afterwards. The relief had been overwhelming.
For the last year, the club had given Lou joy, comfort, and, yes, intimacy—of a fashion. Now, though, she was starting to recognise that it was a false sense of intimacy, a fleeting glimpse of what could really be. For the first time in years, she yearned for something more, something deeper. She had no idea how to go about finding it, but wanting was a start.
* * *
Two days had passed since she’d met Stephanie Jackson, and she couldn’t stop thinking about her. Ridiculous. First of all, she knew next to nothing about her.
Second, she could be straight—she certainly looked it, with her fancy skirt suits, heels, and polished nails. Third, even if she wasn’t straight, she might already be involved with someone.
Stupid infatuation. Going nowhere. Get over it.
The phone on her desk rang and startled her.
“Hi Lou, it’s Stephanie.”
“Oh, hi,” she said, her palms instantly sweating.
“I was wondering if I could pop up to see you again. I have a few more questions after going through my notes from our first meeting?”
“Sure, no problem,” Lou replied. Her pulse was racing. Shit, she’s coming up here!
“Great, be there in five.”
Lou hung up and immediately started tidying her desk and straightening her clothes, all the while muttering to herself to stop being ridiculous. When Stephanie appeared, she was all business, and a surge of disappointment rose inside her. But, when Stephanie got up to leave half an hour later, she surprised Lou by turning back. Her face was slightly flushed—an adorable addition to her usually professionally masked features.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but that singer, Ernestine Anderson, was it?”
Lou nodded.
“Well,” continued Stephanie, “I was blown away by her voice, and I was wondering if you had anything I could borrow, maybe take a copy of?” Her voice carried a slight tremor.
“Yeah, I do, but how about I do the copy for you. I can bring it in on Friday if you like?” Lou heard herself say the words, knew they had left her own mouth, yet still couldn’t quite believe she’d said them.
“Would you? That would be great! Thanks, I’d really appreciate it.” Stephanie’s flush deepened a little.
“No worries,” said Lou and found herself smiling. Stephanie smiled back, a small smile, but it set off a twinge of…something, deep in Lou’s gut.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you Friday, then,” said Stephanie, suddenly looking a little awkward, and then she was gone.