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Hot Bitch

By: shysub19



I'm a hot bitch. After being called a bitch enough, I've come to accept the term with a sort of pride for always getting what I want, and the hot part? Well, I've always been hot.

I used to go on to chat rooms just to describe myself in all honesty, and have people doubt that was possible: blond, 5'6", size 34D (isn't that what guys just love to hear?), and a nice, round ass. The most common response was frustration that I was just some liar, or some loser making up the characteristics for fun. I always had a good laugh to myself at the guy's reaction, and a few lesbians too, when I could find them. I never posted any pictures, though, because I couldn't put my face to the horribly slutty things I would say to those people. Oh, but to see the looks on their faces would have been so worth it!

When I go out to a bar with my friends, I like to dress to kill. A short dress always does the trick, because my legs are really sexy and I've been told that a mini-dress suits me.

As you can tell, I love to tease, and I do it regularly because it gets me off later, when I'm all alone. I think of the power I had over all those guys, and about how much they wanted me - but most of all, what they would do to me. There have been times I've sat on a guy's lap because he's good at dirty talk, and that always does it for me! But lap-sitting is about as hands-on as I get. I am not really a slut.

"Hey gorgeous," one man purred as he moved a little closer to me at the bar, and he wasn't bad to look at either. Still, I paid him no attention, but bent over the counter a little to get the bartender's attention.

"Shot of tequila!"

Most people I know would actually call me conservative in my everyday life, because I've only slept with a handful of people, and I'm already twenty-five. That's getting up there in age, compared to the young little things I see at the club dressed as slutty as a girl can imagine. Still, you should see the guys falling all over themselves when they look at me. I've been told I look much younger than I am, and that my sexual aura is very inviting.

"You ... want me to get that for you?" Handsome asked, but I just look at him, smile, and then look away. Too easy.

I don't know why I enjoy being such a bitch, but I love it. I leaned over a little more, fantasizing as I spoke to the bartender about what Handsome might do to me if he had the chance. Maybe if I was tied up somewhere ... Such dirty thoughts. I wanted to be punished, but Handsome seemed so plain to me. He probably wanted me on my back, missionary style. Where is the excitement? The adventure? I sighed as my drink slid over the bar, and I paid to swallow it back and grimace at the strong taste.

Handsome's hands were on me as I drifted over to the dance floor, but I let him guide my hips. It felt nice for a little while. I even danced with him for a few minutes before I was bored with his hard-on pressing onto my ass.

"I have to go to the washroom," I lied, excusing myself to the bathroom just in case he was watching. I'd been teasing people all night, and the exhaustion of my work week was beginning to hit me when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

There in the bathroom was a couple making out - two women. I held my breath and watched for a moment as a very feminine young woman moaned and tugged down her panties from under her short skirt. She flashed a look of embarrassment over her shoulder when she caught me staring, but she let them drop anyway, and returned her lips to the kiss.

I watched in the mirror as a more masculine young woman moved her hand up the soft thigh of her make-out partner. Those fingers were heading under that skirt, but right in front of me? I was not usually witness to such intimate displays of affection, with both partners being of sound mind. And being lesbians. I wasn't sure what to feel about it.

The young thing threw her arms around Butch's shoulders, and she tensed for a moment as I realized those fingers had been pushed into her. I let out the deep breath I'd been holding as Butch looked at me from over her lover's shoulder.

Without a word, she turned the girl around, and leaned her over to brace herself on the stall as the sexy skirt was pushed up, over her hips. What was I watching?!

I turned to watch the sight just as I lost my breath again. Butch locked eyes with me as she licked her finger, and obviously placed it on the girl's ass. On her asshole! My eyes went so wide they felt dry, and I had to balance myself over the counter so as not to fall in my heels. My lips were dry. My hair felt unnatural, tickling my shoulders. My dress suddenly felt too short.

When I heard women making their way into the bathroom, I straightened myself up, and turned to face the mirror again. I looked at myself just as the ladies filed in, talking too loudly about some jerk that was getting a little too friendly. I immediately glanced into the mirror to where I had seen Butch and her girl, but they had disappeared into a stall. I could hear them shuffling around, but I braced myself on the sink for a moment.

Then, without thinking, I walked past the girls, and made my way to the stalls. I gently pushed the door open that was next to the two lovers, and just stood there for a moment. I didn't know what to do. What was I waiting for? What did I want?

When the women had finished in the washroom and all was silent again, I began to think that the lovebirds had gone, and I was alone in there.

I finally opened the stall with some disappointment, only to be face-to-face with Butch herself. My heart started racing as she stepped into the stall with me, forcing me to take a few steps back and put my hands to walls. The door to the stall was locked, and I panicked: "What're you doing?"

My question just hung in the air for a moment, until she stepped in real close, and put her hand over my throat - pinning me to the wall with strength I hadn't known a woman could possess. My hands immediately went up in defence, but I simply watched her as she stared at me. Her bright blue eyes were staring into mine.

"Do you make it a habit to watch?"

I swallowed hard. "No! ... No, I'm sorry ..."

Her hold tightened, and I thought I would have slipped if she weren't so close to me. One hand lazily slipping over my mid-section. Was she patting me down?

"No - wait!" I gasped, keeping eye contact as her free hand cupped me between my legs, and then pulled back just as easily. I was absolutely speechless.

"I don't make it a habit to touch sluts. Don't let me catch you watching me again."

She was just my height, but her arms were so well defined it was an oddity. I struggled to keep my breathing even as she somewhat loosened her hold on me. I wanted to scream I wasn't a slut - this whole night had been an act - but all I could was comply to her demands. "Y-yes ... yes."

"Good."

I couldn't believe my train of thought, but I wanted her to tell me what else to do. My desperation must have been in my eyes.

"And quit whoring around with all those guys. Close your fucking legs for a change."

I gasped in again as her hold loosened yet again, and she looked at me very closely. I could feel her reading into my expression, and I tried desperately not to be so transparent. How long had it been since I'd broken up with my ex? Seven months and counting.

"Wow, do you ever want it bad," she chuckled, removing her hand from my neck to suddenly gain a very serious expression. "I mean it. Keep your eyes off me and my bitch."

But I was a bitch. Didn't she want me at all? I found myself thinking this as she turned and walked out of the stall, leaving me to my quivering, as I slumped down on the toilet to breathe in and out with exaggeration. What had just happened? What was wrong with me?

When I had finally pulled myself together, I left the bathroom to make my way over to the bar, ordering another shot. I looked around the bar just to see where Butch was. Where could she have gone so quickly.

When I finally did catch sight of her, I noticed her girl had one leg draped into her lap, and was kissing her neck in a sloppy manner that had me wet. I wanted to dote on Butch like that. I wanted her to allow me to do it. I wanted her to put her arm around me while seemingly disinterested. I wanted to be used.

"Your tequila!" The bartender yelled again over the loud music, and I shot it straight down before my eyes were drawn back to the dominating presence in the lounge area of the bar.

Piercing eyes suddenly gripped mine, and I panicked by turning around and cursing myself. What was I thinking?! She had specifically threatened me not to look at her. Was I really so desperate that I simply couldn't help myself? I shut my eyes, and held onto my clutch. I needed to get out of there, and fast.

I didn't really want that. I didn't want any of that. It was all just some stupid fantasy.

I kept telling myself that as I slipped past my friends to assure them I was off for the night. Quickly then, I squeezed past a few interested men to the exit, where I pulled out my phone to call for a cab. I was standing just outside the exit, when an arm slipped over my hip, and before I knew it, I was walking aside the stranger.

"Walk and talk with me." From the voice at my side, I knew just who it was. Butch.

I looked across the street at the women huddled waiting for their cab.

"Wave nicely to them and we can have a little chat."

I felt myself obeying to her as she guided me in between buildings, where no one else could see us.

"What did I tell you?" she hissed, grabbing my clutch from me as she looked down to the phone in my hand. "Who's that?"

"I ... I'm calling ... calling a cab ..."

"Good. Tell them to pick you up."

I brought the phone up to my ear, and tried thinking of anything other than what I wanted to have her do to me. Was I crazy? I watched her take my ID, and tuck it into her pocket.

At last, the company answered, and I asked for a cab at the address right away. She took the phone from me before I could finish the call, and assured them we were in a rush. When she hung up the phone, she gave it back, and pressed my clutch to my chest. 

"This," she started, tapping my ID through her pocket, "Is mine until we meet again. You understand that? Because contrary to what you might be used to, you won't get whatever you want with me."

"O-okay," I stuttered, only serving to further embarrass myself. I felt my knees get shaky as I stood there, leaned against the building with her eyes raking over me in such crude a way it almost seemed like disinterest. But then she locked eyes with me, and I could read into hers, too. She wanted to punish me.

"You like being humiliated?"

I couldn't help but stutter again, and when I did, she slapped my thigh with impatience. "Take off the panties. Now." She looked at me as she gave her instruction, knowing I would do it with compliance. "And give them to me."

I was only wearing a slutty thong, and I felt like a whore in that back alley, as I stepped out of it, and handed it to her. My whole body trembled with excitement. I couldn't believe what had come over me. She was being so awful to me and I was getting off on it?! Never before had I wanted anything so badly.

"Open up."

Stunned, I very slowly parted my lips until I felt her pushing my own panties into my mouth. I was so shocked I couldn't resist, finally shutting my eyes as she grinned at what she'd done. I didn't want to take them out. I was scared of what else I wanted her to do to me, so I tried hard to ignore my feelings.

"How does it taste?"

I whimpered, struggling to keep on my feet.

And just as quickly as she'd pushed the thong into my mouth, she pulled it out again, and tucked it into her other pocket. "Good. Now think about that, and meet me back here next week Saturday. And I'll decide if I wanna touch you then."

I wondered just then what she would want me to wear, and cursed myself for being so entirely desperate. I was desperate for a woman?! What was wrong with me? 

She guided me back toward the sidewalk where there were a number of cabs already waiting, but her hand on my ass held me back for another moment, before we had quite made it out from the shadows. I stood completely still as I felt her pull up the back of my dress to look at my ass. She stared at it for a few moments before letting it back down. "Not bad."

It was then I remembered that I was naked under my dress, and I blushed profusely, shutting my eyes again.

"Hey," she called out as we both stepped out from the dark. "Tell me what to call you."

I was at her command, but I felt that my real name didn't belong in a scenario like this, so I spoke quietly to only her after I'd thought on it for a long moment or two: "Hot Bitch."

"Like a bitch in heat," she whispered, giving the words a new meaning for me as she crossed her arms. She stood tall as she nodded at last for me to leave. "That's what I thought."

I ducked into the cab, and turned back to her to see that she was holding up both of the twenties I had on me, and I laughed despite myself as the cab driver drove off. The audacity! I wondered what she wanted for me - to pay this driver in some other way? But that wasn't me. I had my Visa on me, so it was fine. Still, I sighed and thought back to the way she'd roughly handled me and ordered me around like a little slave.

All night, that was all I could think about: the truly slutty persona within me that had always been in hiding. The Hot Bitch.

Hot Bitch Ch. 02



As I am usually quite full of myself, this last week has been new for me. I have been wondering and questioning what happened last Saturday, and what that means for me.

Still, there was no denying that I would meet that woman again. I wanted to know why she was torturing me like she was. I wanted to know what she would say or do next. I just tried to ignore the way I obviously felt for her.

Saturday had come around again, and I had dressed in pants and a conservative shirt, in order to convince her I was only there to get my ID. I tried to also convince myself that was all I wanted, because the truth would be too complicated.

"Like a bitch in heat."

Her voice echoed in my mind as I put on my lip gloss in the mirror of my apartment, just by the front door. I looked at the image I made, and had to smile. I was sexy, and let my long blond hair flow down past my shoulders - half of it pinned up just like it had been last Saturday. Just like I did it every other day. My hair's always been long because I know it looks better that way, and I love to entice.

My face stared back at me in the porcelain way it always had, reminding me of its perfection. I don't know the reason for my luck with beauty, but I was especially happy with it then. It gave me strength to do what I wanted.

It was getting late. That was when I called a cab, and hopped in to head over to the bar to meet up with Butch again. What was her name? A part of me wanted to know, and yet another part pleaded I never find out. I wanted to to be able to think of something other than her.

When the cab pulled up, I stepped out in my heels, and walked right up to the entrance. There was a line, but I was accustomed to slipping in because the security at those places always invited women like me in through the VIP door.

The guy on duty looked me up and down, but seemed a bit puzzled. It was probably due to my more conservative attire, but I smiled at him, and he seemed to enjoy that.

"I just need to meet a friend. Can I slip in?"

"ID?"

Then my shoulders sank. "Shit ... my friend's got my ID."

He shook his head. "Sorry."

"Ughhh!" I groaned, earning a few glares from the line-up of mostly women who were waiting their turn. I leaned back against the wall, and exhaled. Great.

There was nothing I could do. I had to wait right where I was, and I felt like a complete loser, all by myself, dressed like a librarian at a nightclub. It was ridiculous. I actually started to get really angry once half an hour had gone by, but then I heard someone calling for something. I looked up, and Butch was there by the entrance, smirking at me.

"That's her," she said to the security guard, "Thanks."

She walked out of the club and came over to me.

"There you are," she grinned. That stupid grin!

I tried desperately to be kind, even though I was irritated she'd made me wait for so long. I extended out my hand for the ID she'd promised to return to me, but all I got was her handshake.

"Come on, I called a cab. One of these should be for me."

"I ... I'm not going with you," I insisted, standing my ground as we'd turned the corner, and out of sight of the bar's patrons.

"You get in this cab with me? And I'll give you this," she insisted, flipping my ID between her fingers. "No problem."

Just then I remembered what she had done with me the last time we were in that little alley. I tried to keep calm as she was looking at me, but my heart was racing. I didn't want to figure it out. I wanted to simply run with the night.

I hesitantly walked with her, and ducked into the cab to close the car door behind me. "I want my ID now."

As the cab drove off, she handed it over to me, and leaned back in her seat. "Where to?"

She was dropping me off just like that? A part of me was disappointed that she didn't want me more. It disappointed me that she wouldn't try to trick me into staying, or she wouldn't try to touch me. She hadn't tried to touch me even once. I didn't know what to say, so she quickly gave the man what I presumed was her address, and it was.

I sat the whole way in silence - not offering my own address - trying to figure out what was going on with me. Did I want to go to her place? I didn't seem to be fighting it like I thought I would. And then her hand was on my knee, touching it to the other.

She smirked when I looked up at her. "Together. That's how a lady should sit." She was trying not to laugh, and I was irritated again.

"How come you sit like THAT then?"

She laughed in full: "I'm no lady."

I think I surprised her with my answer when I mumbled that maybe I wasn't a lady either.

"Come on up," she said as we had arrived at the destination, pulling two twenties out of her pocket. My twenties - I knew it. She was taunting me.

For some reason, I just couldn't resist following her. No matter how I tried to convince myself, telling myself that I honestly didn't care about forty dollars that I could make back in a few hours at work, it didn't matter at all.

I was standing in her apartment with her before I knew it, cursing my own weakness for following her there.

"Give me my money."

I don't know what came over me, but that's what I said. I had my hands on my hips as I glared at her, but all she did was smile back. "Maybe uh ... Maybe you'll just have to earn it, huh?"

I laughed for a moment, and then I pursed my lips. "That's terrible." A part of me really felt that she was being rude in speaking to me that way, but another more secret part of me was getting off on it. I wanted to earn that money back.

"You want it so bad ...? Well, what're you gonna do? Come here and get it from me?" She was grinning from ear-to-ear. So damn pleased with herself.

Once we got up there, I noticed that her place was relatively neat, but sparse. It seemed bigger than it was, and that seemed to mirror her appearance. Her dark, short hair gave her round face more definition, as did her slightly off-set nose. Her features gave her entire personality more character.

I watched her disappear into her kitchen, and then I got an idea. I would steal back my money! Hurriedly, I turned around, and looked for something somewhat valuable. My eyes settled on a little ivory figurine, and I took it in my hand before I headed for the door.

My breath caught in my throat when I noticed she'd saw what I'd done, and suddenly I felt guilty. She'd been watching from her miniature hallway.

"Put it back."

Her words were so calmly superior that it shook me, but I held onto the little figurine to show her that I still had some fight in me: this would not be like the other night, a week ago. I didn't want to submit.

I kept telling myself that as she approached.

"Put it back or else."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" I shot back, but she held onto me before I could even react. She grabbed me by my arms, and pressed my chest up against the wall as I felt something cold close over my wrists. She easily pried the figurine out from my hand, and then I felt her pull me by the back of my shirt - guiding me over to her couch. I stumbled just as we reached it, and fell face-first onto the cushions.

She quickly lifted my legs up, and sat beside me there, giving us each about half of the couch. It was a large couch for the size of her place, and it was comfortable, but I didn't want to be there. I kept telling myself I didn't want to be there, but I felt another way entirely.

As I struggled to get up, she turned on the TV, and put her feet up on the make-shift coffee table propped up on mismatching table legs.

She was watching me, and that was excited me most of all. Her stare was on me, however subtle it may have been.

"You keep struggling like that, and you'll earn your money back in no time." I could hear her grin as she spoke, and her words stilled me. I wouldn't squirm if that was what she wanted. I wasn't here to please HER. Wait - I wasn't here to please anybody! Not even myself.

I was chanting to myself over and over: 'I don't wanna be here. I don't wanna be here. Just get up. Swing your legs over and just get up ... no, not that. Oh god ... Move! I really don't wanna be here ...'

I was struggling with myself at times, but where was my desperation like I'd felt it the night before? Where was my weakness? All I wanted was to fight this feeling in me, and that was so different than what I'd felt in the club. I laid there with my face buried in one of her cushions for a few minutes, until I felt her tugging at my arm.

Before I knew it, I was pulled over her lap, face-down. My hips were lingering over her thighs, and for the first time that night, I was entirely excited again. I wanted her to pull my pants down. I wanted her to feel how wet I was, and that was a shock entirely. What had she done to me? - And so easily.

"You ... still wanna earn that money back?" she whispered that time, obviously speaking down to me, as if she possessed me.

I turned my face to take in a deep breath where she couldn't read my expression. I tried to keep logical, but even with my pants on, I felt exposed. And I liked it. "I ... w ... Uh ..."

She rested her hand on my inner thigh, just keeping it there as if she weren't doing anything at all. Even her breath was transfixing, and I began to wonder what it might feel like for her to touch me. I'd never been touched by a woman before - not one that knew what she was doing like this one did. Messing around is one thing, but I had a feeling this would be much ... much different.

Her hand was so warm that I accidentally moaned, and she laughed at that: "You let me know."

I was struggling, I was in denial, and I was scared for what I was about to step into, but I just couldn't leave and keep this mystery any longer.

It took me ten minutes to get up the courage to be truthful. "Y ... yes."

"I like to spank my girls."

Immediately, I was frightened, but she elaborated.

"And not that I think you'd enjoy it ... but I'd enjoy it."

I took that statement at face value, and tried to remain perfectly still. I tried to stop my body from lubricating what I'd hoped she'd try to do. It was embarrassing, to be so wet in her lap. I took a deep breath in and out. "Wh ... what?" I acted as though I hadn't heard, but we both knew I had.

She ran her right hand over my jeans, and then drifted her fingers up, between my legs. Even clothed, it sent shivers through me that spread my legs instinctively. My body was screaming out to her, but I kept my lips pursed together.

"Well ... what do you think?" she whispered, obviously affected herself. I could tell by the way her hand hesitated every time it massaged over my ass, and when she used both of her hands. She seemed to be hungry for me, and I liked the idea of being that woman's "meal" of sorts.

I laid my hands flat on her couch cushion, and squirmed my hips. The feeling that came over me was impossible to ignore, and it wouldn't subside, so I finally let it take me over. My hips squirmed up, even into her hands, where she would squeeze them and brush her fingers between my legs again. She could certainly be gentle when she wanted to be.

Finally, I croaked out another question: "What do I ... think about what?"

She moaned as she touched me again, feeling even over the material of my jeans just how wet I was. "Let me spank you."

Every reason I had been there, and every concern I had disappeared as I squirmed there in her lap. The only thing in the world that I desired were her hands on me. I wanted to feel what it was like to be spanked by someone who knew it well. Have you ever been so desperate to have someone spank you? I'd never felt that before, but it was certainly powerful.

"Yes," I answered without any hesitation.

Almost as immediately as I answered, she brought her hand down, and spanked me. I gasped at the sensation, but I also found that it was much softer than I was expecting - tame, even. I frowned with both my eyes still tightly shut, and waited for another slap when I heard her voice instead.

"I ... have to take these off," she insisted in that deep whisper she did so well. She was already pulling at my jeans, when I reached under my own hips, and undid my jeans.

What was I thinking? I wanted to know what it would feel like. I wanted her to spank me - really spank me. I wanted to cry out. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted so many things that I couldn't even question them. I squirmed my hips up as she tugged my jeans down my thighs. They finally sat taut around my knees, and then her fingers toyed with my lacy, purple panties. I think she enjoyed the fact that they hardly covered me at all.

She didn't even tease me for wearing them like I thought she would. Instead, she let her hand come down again, but that time it stung. I gasped loudly, and clenched the pillow in my hands. When I relaxed, she spanked me again, and then she kneaded both my cheeks with her hands.

"Nice ass."

I blushed, I'm sure, but I can't remember noticing. It just felt so different from any other rough play I'd done, and the tingles she was sending with each slap were exciting me for more. I wanted it harder. I wanted her to pull down my panties and spank me for letting her do it.

It was at that point that I shook some sense into myself, and tried to be logical. What had I gotten myself into?

Just as she landed another slap, I gasped, and my chest pressed to the cushion. Was I angling my hips up?

"Wait ..." I panted, just as she landed an even firmer hand. I raggedly moaned, but recovered by trying to cough over it. "Wait ... I ... I can't do this."

"You don't have to do anything," she moaned, squeezing my cheeks again, and toying with the lace on my panties.

"What're you doing?" I breathed with concern, looking back at her.

"Just fucking with you," she chuckled, spanking me hard again to hear me cry out.

"Wait! ... Okay," I panted all over again, wanting to cry at the tug in all directions. I wanted her to stop - I wanted her never to stop. "Wait ..." Then I looked at my wrists. "When did you take off the handcuffs?"

"As soon as I had you here," she grinned, gesturing to her lap. "Seems you were a little too distracted to notice ..."

Oh, I wanted her to fuck me then. Right then. She had me where she wanted me, I knew it. I wouldn't even have resisted if she'd pulled down my panties, but instead, she completely shocked me.

She moved out from under me, and chuckled at my messy hair and disheveled clothes.

"A little desperate, I think ... I dunno ..."

I was offended, and let out my disapproval with a gasp. I didn't know what to say.

"Well ... damn ..." She was looking at me, and eyeing the slip of skin that was offered just where my shirt nearly met the lace of my panties. She could tell I was completely shaven, but she simply tucked her hands into her pockets. "I don't do straight girls."

My jaw dropped in disbelief. After all of this?! After confusing the hell out of me she had the audacity to say that?!

I got up fast, and pulled my pants up my thighs to storm past her. I was near to the door when she grabbed my wrist, and pinned me to the wall again. I didn't know what to do, so I just held my breath and looked at her.

"Maybe I'll ... see you another time."

NOT likely, I thought to myself. I was mad at her.

"You know ... when you've sorted things out for yourself."

Ooh, she had some nerve! I was angry with myself too, at just how wet I'd been. And she hadn't even touched me where I wanted it! Or did I want that?

She continued despite the look on my face: "I don't want you confused. I want you to know."

Yup, that was all she said to me! I stormed out of there so fast, and marched down that hall to go and hail a cab.

I tried not to think about her all the way home, and even as I laid on my own couch watching TV, but I couldn't help a smile from forming as I went to change, and found my twenty dollar bills in my back pocket. Damn, she was sneaky.

Did I like her? Well, not in any intimate way, I assured myself. Maybe I liked her because she was a lot like me. Maybe I liked that she wasn't easy, or that she had an attitude quite like myself.

I pouted for days - for weeks - until I finally decided on some fun, and went online to seek lesbians in my area. I found this one cute brunette that reminded me of Butch, and I grinned as I scheduled a meet-up. What was I craving? I didn't know, but planning a date with that woman excited me. I tried not to think what that meant. I wasn't gay or bi or whatever. That was all too complicated for me.

It took me five other dates with women to realize that I was having fun dating them. Maybe that person in particular wasn't meant for me, but I started to catch myself looking at them with admiration (and wanton stares).

One girl, Sam, really caught my interest. In fact, as she was driving me back to my place one night, I invited her in. ME! The girl who had always enjoyed teasing men was interested in a woman! It was a time of self-discovery for me, as I invited her up, and kissed her there. We were standing outside of my apartment, and she grabbed me by the back of my neck, and kissed me.

I pulled her into my place, and kissed her back that night - surprised with the level of intimacy I felt with her after only four dates. And that was fast for me! I usually liked to tease them for a good ten or fifteen dates (hahaha, I'm so terrible!), but I wanted her just like she wanted me.

After that, I started questioning what was going on with me? How could I think I'd been straight this whole time? Or was I gay?

At long last, I came to the conclusion that I liked both men AND women, but I've never liked labels, so I left it at that.

I used to get wet every time Sam would come out of the shower with her long hair dripping down her shoulders, and I would tackle her on the bed, kissing her face and her neck until she reciprocated all of those kisses. I used to press her hands to my breasts and pull her close just to feel her fingers on me. I was crazy for her all the time, right up until she told me: "I can't do this anymore, Mara."

I hated when she used that tone of voice. My first name instead of Babe or Hun. That was really a hard time for me, when she tried denouncing any iota of her gayness, because I had fallen for her and she crushed me.

I guess that's why I understood what Butch had been talking about all that time back. Had she really felt something for me? God, she was awful!

I laughed whenever I would think of how terrible she was to me, and how I had enjoyed it. How do we enjoy such things? It's so hard to know.

It's infectious, it's toxic, but it's beautiful when you feel it.

That much was true one Thursday night at a lounge where I'd met up with friends only to stay late by myself. It had been a rough while on my own, and that cold margarita worked like a charm. I was stewing in my thoughts as I heard a voice from down the bar.

"Still drinking that sissy shit, huh?"

I turned up immediately, my eyes catching those terrible blues from all that time ago. Had it already been a year since I'd seen her? It was Butch, and she hadn't changed a bit.

I tried not to smile, keeping my stare as she walked over and slapped her hand down on the bar, her strong and capable body sending me little shivers. She was a butch if ever there was one, and although I usually stared at femme women walking past, there was something about her that shook me. I needed those hands. That was all I could think as she sat down next to me, not bothering to ask if I wanted her there. She knew.

"Gimme that," she smirked, stealing my drink by its long stem, our fingers brushing accidentally. My breath caught in my throat as I watched her take a big sip of my drink. "Fuck that's weak." She was loving every moment of my stunned silence.




Hot Bitch Ch. 02



She was beautiful in this off-beat, masculine way. Her hair was just a little longer and ruffled, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of her.

Then she waved over to the bartender: "Two shots of tequila."



Hot Bitch Ch. 03



"Jose."

I just looked at her over the rim of my glass, taking sip after sip until I finally set it down. "Like there's two Joes, and ... that's your name?"

She pursed her lips at my smile, eventually giving in to the grin that threatened to take over her expression. "No. Like ... Jose. Short for Joseph."

I chuckled into my drink, finally setting it down on the bar to make a face at her. "More like Josephine."

I would have thought she'd be bothered by my taunting, but instead she sat back and scanned her eyes over my body, picking up her own drink and shooting half of it down. "... Whatever. So. What's your name, Princess?"

I laughed again and finished off my drink. "Princess ...? Where did that come from?"

"I think it's only fair," she smiled. She was so confident, and strong and cocky. I had always hated cocky, and I hated that I liked it on her. How dare she allure me like she did.

"I'm not ever telling you my name," I laughed, sneaking her drink to chase it down with mine. It was so much fun stealing it from her, because I knew she would let me. It was so playful there between us, and the fun was infectious through all parts of my body. "... Why don't you guess?"

"Oh no," she moaned, locking eyes with me. "I will not be some fucking cliché. You'll tell me that name of yours, one way or another."

I just stared at her, sitting up tall in my chair and giving her a look that said I could be more stubborn than anyone she'd ever known. I think it excited her to see me stand my ground - had other women never done that around her? I started to wonder. I mean, she did make me weak in the knees, but I needed to restrain myself at least a little. After all, the chase is fun.

"Alright," she nodded at last, leaning in. "Pussy Bitch it is." She was laughing, but my jaw dropped open, turning around to make sure that no one else had heard.

"Are you crazy?!" I whispered, grabbing her knee as I nearly tumbled onto her. Our faces were so close it seemed our lips would inevitably touch, but we were just suspended there in wait. For what, I don't know.

As is seemingly required in certain electric moments, we were interrupted. The bartender was coming back to our end of the bar. "Anything else for you ladies?"

She broke from her stare, and smiled at him. "Nothing for me. Are you heading out too, Mrs ... Bitch, right? Hell of a last name!"

I felt so humiliated, but I could only try to bite my tongue, to keep from laughing.

The bartender lifted a brow as I covered my face, and Jose slammed her hand down on the counter. "Goodnight, Russ."

He laughed and walked off as I whacked Jose in the arm. "What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"You know ... you're not as drunk as I thought you'd be."

"YOU just thought you could drink me under the table," I teased, slipping off my stool with a little imbalance. She tried to catch my hand, but I quickly crossed my arms and shot her a look.

She was up off her chair and whispering into my ear before I knew it: "I bet that pussy of yours tastes sweet ..."

A warm tingle surged through me as I stepped up close to her. "You'll never know ... what she tastes like," I smirked, tucking my clutch under my arm. "Never ever ... ever ... ever ..."

"Just rubbing it in," she mumbled, following close behind me as I strutted out of the place.

When we were outside, she lit a cigarette, and leaned back against the building. Boy was she ever a sight for sore eyes. Still, I did my best to ignore her, standing at the curb. I had a new, more confident way about myself around women ever since I'd understood my own interest. I knew she could feel that, and that made me feel even better. Waving my hand up as a cab drove past, I tried to flag it down, but it was already occupied.

"Nice going, Pussy."

I wanted to tell her shut it, but I had a grin that I simply couldn't shake as I looked back to her. I wanted to tear my eyes away, but there she was looking fine and acting like she owned the place. It worked for her. She had an animalistic lust that drew me in.

"You know ... you do look different."

I flipped my long blond hair over my shoulder, and fished for the lip gloss in my clutch. "Fucking right I do."

"And a potty mouth ... We'll have to fix that."

"We'll have to fix that?!" I laughed. "Who is WE?"

"Me and my hands ..." she grinned, exhaling smoke into the dark night air. "We can be very persuasive ..."

I tried not to think about her hands on me, or what she wanted to do to me. I had to wonder what she did want to do. And when enough silence had passed, I asked her. She'd just finished her cigarette, and threw it to the ground to smother it with the sole of her shoe.

"Not sure we should discuss that here ..." she smiled, approaching.

I watched her very carefully as she sauntered over to me and slipped her right hand up the side of my leg ... up, up, until her hand was on my hip. We were standing by the curb, and I did nothing to stop her as her hand drifted onto my hip, under my dress.

"Feels lacy," she whispered, feeling the fabric waist of my panties. "I've been wanting to ask you what was under here. You have anything else on under that dress?"

My breathing was a little erratic, but I managed to cling to some strength. What was happening to me, I wondered. And how was she doing this so easily? Why wasn't I moving or swatting her hand away? Instead, I actually answered her. "... A ... a bra." But then I realized that this dress had been too tight for a bra, and I panicked. "I mean! ... I mean ... shit."

"You know why I sent you off the last time around, don't you?" she grinned, getting so close to me and pulling me in. Our eyes locked and I stared at her. "You weren't ... well, you thought you were teasing ME ... when really it was me teasing YOU ... you see?"

I hated the smell of cigarettes, but I didn't even notice it as her agile fingers traced back down my thigh. I just kept staring at her when she flagged a cab down with her other hand, and lured me into it. I didn't know how to categorize her hold on me.

"Where ... where're we going?" I mumbled, sitting back against the seat just to have her slip her hand between my legs as though it were a casual act.

I didn't want to say anything so the cab driver wouldn't be aware, but I thought of slapping her hand away. Still, when her fingers massaged into my panties, all I could do was moan. I was so weak for her touch. She could touch me in a way that no one else ever had.

As she offered her address to the man, he kept to himself with his eyes on the road, but a part of me was hoping he'd see. The blush struck into my cheeks as she looked down at me again, and her grin took up the space around us.

"As I was saying ... things are a little different this time around."

I tried to act as though my self control wasn't hopelessly shattered with the gentle pet of her fingers, but she knew it was. I smiled because I couldn't keep up my act any longer, and she knew I would do anything she wanted. She could feel that I would have let her fuck me right there, in the cab.

I was embarrassed all over again as I tried pinning my knees together - physically reacting to all of her teasing. I was blushing red as my desire pooled generously from inside of me. I held my breath, hoping that would keep my panties dry by some miracle, but I had no such luck. Not only were they wetted, but as I shifted, I looked incredibly awkward. Jose chuckled at my mannerisms, and sat back with me to slip her hand down between my legs.

She scoffed with the cheekiest smirk as she felt my reaction. Staring at me.

"Are ... we almost there?" I asked, giving away my desperation for her to push her way inside of me. I was more than ready. I was shamelessly ready.

"Five more minutes," she whispered, turning to breathe into my ear.

My eyes rolled back as I sat properly in the seat, feeling her touch me through my wet panties. Her fingers fumbled clumsily at the fabric, knowing exactly how it affected me. She knew very well what she was doing. She was teasing me by pretending she had no idea.

She continued teasing me until the cab driver slowed to a stop, and Jose handed him cash with her free hand, finally pulling the other from between my legs. She left him a small tip, and smiled over to me: "How much is it gonna cost me?"

I should have been insulted, I'm sure, to have it insinuated that I was a sex worker, but I was too far gone to find offence in her teasing. I simply shuffled out the same cab door, taking her hand as it was offered to me. The number came out spontaneously, as a sort of tease in return.

"Five thousand dollars."

She laughed and shut the door behind me, looking me over again even as she was pretending at disinterest. Like she didn't need to have me just as badly as I needed her to have me.

"Pretty steep," she snickered, running her hand down from its charming place on my lower back to a more place on my rear. "I expect an awful lot for five thousand dollars ..."

Usually, that would have caused me some sort of insecurity or self conscious trouble, but I was too worked up to feel anything but confident. I knew what I wanted, and I made my quick way to the entrance of her apartment.

"Remember where it is, I see," she teased, jogging up the steps behind me, and ushering me inside.

I think she was surprised at my impatience and excitement to simply begin. Even as we entered her apartment suite, she seemed happily flustered with my wanton, breathy commands: "Kiss me ... kiss me right here."

I had my back to the door, and she leaned in to lick her tongue from the base of my neck to just behind my ear.

"Yes ..."

"Oh, if you think you're calling the shots tonight ..." she moaned, impatient herself. "You ... are sorely ... mistaken."

"Sore," I repeated, grabbing at the collar of her shirt with both hands. It was a gesture that had her laughing into my ear. Biting it.

"I wouldn't be begging for sore if I were you." But it sounded like a question: are you game for 'sore'?

"Just don't stop," I instructed, just as quietly as I was certain.

"I bet you wanna make love," she breathed, again into my ear. "I bet you want it nice and slow ..."

She was leading me backward towards something, but I didn't care what it was. I wrapped my hand around her wrist, and guided it down, between my thighs, even as we moved.

"Nice and tender," she smiled, leading me to her bedroom with great ease. She had a subtle strength about her that gave her the capacity to guide me, even as lost with desire as I was. A part of me wondered how many women she seduced just as easily, but a larger part of me ignored the question altogether. I just needed her then, regardless of its implications. I was senseless and illogical. I was in heat.

"Fuck me," I pleaded breathlessly, sitting back on the bed, and lying on my back as she followed me onto her comforter.

"Nice and slow," she whispered, trying to keep her tone as teasing as possible while her control was slipping just as mine had so long ago. "I hear you ..."

"No, fuck me," I squirmed, whimpering when she pinned my wrists there. I think my trembling plea was what really set her off, because as soon as I'd done it, her teasing had been silenced. In place of my constant humiliation was a real need as she roughly pulled my panties down my legs, and tossed them behind her, to the floor. She rushed my dress up my thighs, and greedily buried her face between my thighs. I hadn't counted on such quick pleasure, but I arched and clawed at her sheets as she spread me open to taste what she wanted. I don't think she planned on allowing me so much pleasure so quickly either, but I also think she couldn't help herself. She, too, was crumbling.

I was wetting a spot on her bed by the time she could steel herself to pull away from me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand to look down at me.

"... Not gonna please you so fast," she panted at last, obviously shaken with her own true need to have me. She breathed evenly for a moment as my eyes opened and closed of their own accord. My entire body was trembling. I thought I was shivering from the cold after such exaggerated tingles shook through me, but as she teased my opening with the tip of her finger, I knew it was her touch. Again, I was a quivering mess.

"Not ... I'm not doing this ... on purpose," I stuttered with humiliation, wet and panting with no control whatsoever, and no end in sight. "I ... I really-"

Her left hand quickly covered my mouth as she leaned over me so closely that her chest pressed to mine. "I know ... don't you think I know a horny little bitch when I see one?"

I moaned despite my greater efforts, and she smiled. I thought she would laugh, but when I opened my eyes again, it was an affectionate expression. That surprised me most of all, but she straightened it as quickly as she could manage.

She was regaining a sense of her more dominant persona, but I was still a squirming, pleading, lustful slave to whatever she wanted from me. It made me feel weak, and yet entirely free. I would do what she wanted. She would please me how I needed it. I would be good, and she would be bad. I could feel it in the way she toyed with me and harassed me, even for doing exactly as she said.

"Open ..." It was a common order she whispered to me. Open my eyes, open my mouth, open my legs. She was simply toying with me, but even as I obeyed every command, she would smile or laugh at my willingness. At how wet I had become. At how I enjoyed her teasing, too.

"Three strokes and you're done," she chuckled at last, settling her body over mine again. Satisfied that although she had kept from properly touching me, she'd been teasing me for the better part of an hour. "I'd say about three strokes should do it."

"Two," I smiled in return, wanting to cry at the build-up inside of me. I was ready to burst on command, it seemed. Anything she would have done could have set me off. I remember wishing she would lean a little closer so her shirt could create some small amount of friction over my clit. I had never been so desperate for touch in my entire life.

"Ooh, is that so?" she moaned, finding pleasure in my suffering, I knew. She wanted to torment me, and she had effectively done just that. I could tell she wasn't far from orgasm herself, writhing on top of me in that slow and knowing way. "And I'd say you couldn't spread your legs any further if you tried ..."

My usual instinctive response to such a taunting comment would have been to close my legs, but I was so lost with desire that I pulled my knees up to try and further open myself to her.

She bit her bottom lip in return, pinning my wrists again. Breathing onto my lips.

"Tell me you're my bitch," she exhaled raggedly, repositioning my hands above my head so she could hold them with only one of hers.

"I'm ... yes ... I'm your b-bitch ..." I answered, my breath catching in the back of my throat.

"Mmm ... b-bitch?" she mocked enticingly, grinding herself down onto me as I growled with satisfaction."One hot bitch I have here ... don't I?"

All I could do was moan again as she moved on top of me. The seam of her jeans offering friction and an astute reminder of the fact that this woman - as a stranger - could work me up so easily.

"And how many fingers does this pussy want?" she whispered down into my ear, sending me into a dreamy fog of need all over again.

"Please please ..." I begged as she licked and sucked at my neck, rendering me useless by way of conversation. "I ... I want two ..." I somehow managed, tilting my face so as to allow more room for her roaming tongue which found its intrusive way into my ear. Warm and wet and seeking out a surprising erogenous zone. I growled with excitement, and finally, she pulled back.

"Three fingers you said? Or four?"

I had to laugh then, for all the teasing and toying she was giving me. I was so ridiculously aroused it was all I could do not to reach complete insanity.

She enjoyed the nature of my laugh. When I looked up at her again, I could see that, but I didn't dare mention it. I simply corrected her fervent teasing. "I ... I said two." I knew that telling her I was tight would only subject me to more torment, and I needed release, so I left it at that.

"We'll just see how much this pussy can take," she murmured, releasing her tongue onto my stomach as if she were eating me out, and it tickled. As I laughed instinctively, she pushed two fingers inside of me and held them there while I gasped with surprise. The fullness I felt then was coupled just as quickly with her thumb mercilessly rubbing over my clit until I growled my way to a powerful climax. All in the span of one large gasp, she had taken me, held me in a feeling of gratification, and released me all at once. I was shocked and suddenly embarrassed with a shy smile to realize what I had allowed her to do and say to me just moments ago.

As her fingers left me, I did all I could to squander the laughter willing to escape. Before I could speak or attempt to explain my need, she pulled me onto my stomach, and straddled my knees.

She pulled my hair from my neck, and leaned over me that way - making me feel the exposure she certainly pursued.

"Just don't show me that ass of yours ..." she threatened with that smile to her voice. "Or I'll wanna take it."

With that, she pulled up my hips so that my face and chest were pressed to the mattress with my hips and backside jutting out toward her. And with her previous statement, I tried to keep myself tense so as not to open myself up to her. I was amazed at the reaction it was giving me. Did I want her to take me that way? I was certain she could tell by my reaction that I'd never been touched that way before. But I was interested.

She got up onto her knees, still keeping me pinned in place as her wetted fingers started teasing my pussy again, and I mumbled nonsense with the feeling. I wanted her to push inside of me over and over until I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted so much.

"Ooh, are you ready?" she teased, obviously watching my body relax to her touch. And damn her, I wanted it all, but all I could was laugh.

"No," I insisted, catching her eye and seeing that she didn't really mean to touch me like that. Not so soon. I could see that she would make me work for something that piqued my curiosity.

"Keep nice and tense then," she moaned instructively, keeping one hand on my lower back while the other continued teasing my wet, swollen pussy. "Wouldn't want me to get any ideas ..."

"Then t ... t-turn me around," I panted humorously, squirming even as I knew she was enjoying the tease just as much as the view. Her stare was satiating me. I knew it wouldn't be much longer if she just added a little friction.

"And where would be the fun in that?" she hissed, getting off on the sight I made there, I'm sure. My virgin ass was staring back at her, tempting her. My pussy was dripping onto her fingers, waiting to be fed. "Nice, tight pussy ... we're gonna give 'er three ..."

I gasped at first, writhing and twisting to accommodate the three fingers she so deliciously wetted with my excitement. It felt so thick to have her take me that way, with my legs pinned closed, but it was so incredible that all I could do was take them. I didn't even want to play at denying the feeling - it was too wonderful.

"Keep that ass nice and tight or I'm gonna play with it," she taunted again, and her words pounded away at my control. God help me, all I could think about were those three fingers forcing their way into my ass, and I thought I would come at the thought. With her other hand, she reached around my hip to toy with my clit, all three of her fingers inside of me already, up to the second knuckle.




Hot Bitch Ch. 03



I was rocking back-and-forth, mumbling pleas and arching for her as I came that time, long and hard. As I came, all parts of me relaxed before tensing, making my orgasm all the more powerful with the thought of her taking me at my most vulnerable moment. I couldn't help it and I didn't want to help it. I shook with my orgasm, surprising myself with its intensity as her fingers kept themselves buried inside me. The wet fingers of her other hand rubbing expertly at my clit.

As I fell into a pile there before her, the sound of her licking those agile fingers lulled me to sleep.

When I woke up, I looked around to see what had done the waking to find Jose nowhere in sight. I rubbed my eyes and cursed myself for being so weak as to fall asleep after such an experience, when I heard that voice from down the hall.

"I said PB&J or just the J?"

I held the sheet to my chest, thankful I'd been covered as I shook my head - was I hearing her right? "... What?"

"PB&J?" she asked, stepping in the doorway of the bedroom to hold up two sandwiches, gesturing to the one on her left. "Or just the J?"

I raised an eyebrow, just staring at her. "Is that lunch?"

"Well, you're squeezing me for five thousand, so I don't know what to tell you," she teased, walking back toward the kitchen.

"Well, if I refund the money can I get a decent lunch?" I teased in return, earning a healthy laugh from her that seemed almost unnaturally content.

Again, she appeared in the doorway with a package of bacon in her left hand - already biting into her sandwich with the right. "Bacon?" she asked, with a mouth full of food.

I could only laugh, imagining what other encounters we might accumulate, and just what I would be doing to please her in return. I knew I had to run for work, but my mind immediately raced at the thought of what she would have me do next. My eyes fell to the hands that possessed me. The lips that had me pleading and open to her.

"Uh-I ... U-ummm ..."

She chuckled in that loose way she had about it, and disappeared again with a grin that spoke of her absolute control: "Bacon it is."