2 comments/ 13829 views/ 9 favorites The Girl for Me By: dnchapman Blue nails? Check. Blue jeans? Check. Black top with just enough breast on show? Yep. Hair tied back, lip gloss on (strawberry, my favourite), flats on, looking... well, pullable, I hoped. I hadn't done this before: gone to a club just to pull. But then again, why not. I was awake, I was... well, horny. I was tired of reading or watching the fantasies I wanted. And I really wanted a drink. I walked into the club and made my way over to the bar. The lady behind it smiled over and asked what I wanted. Someone stepped in and offered me a shot, but she wasn't my type: typical. Go to pull, pull the wrong person. I gently decline and she walked over with a sigh to what I guessed must be her boyfriend given where her hand went. I silently sigh: even worse, a bloody man. Not my scene. The lady behind the bar was sympathetic and rolled her eyes as the couple looked for other prey, and I plumped for a Tia Maria and Coke, which was overpriced but hit the right spot. The music thudded louder and I want to order another when I saw *her*. She looked at me over her drink. I knew then: I would have her; or rather she would have me. I would get what I wanted either way and what I wanted was... well, we'll get there. She smiled and walked over, holding her drink in a tight hand, pink nails, shining red lips wet with drink, brown hair and more cleavage on show than I would dare. Nice skirt, fleshy tights, heels. I stopped staring and met her brown eyes. "Hi," she said, over the loud music. "You look lost." I went to answer but she just smiled. "You're found, now." I nodded dumbly and she smiled again. She likes this, I can tell. She already knows I'm hers. The music played. We said nothing but, eyes fixed, walked onto the dancefloor and lost ourselves amid people. The sound of bass, the thud of drums, the sweat and warmth of people. The closeness of her, pushing against me and using the crowd as an excuse. Her hands brushed down and grazed my back and she was close enough for me to smell her perfume. She took my hand and leant in: "Come on." We went back to the bar and the lady behind it coyly winked at me, then whispered: "Lucky you. I've been trying for weeks now," then adds, "but don't tell my girlfriend," and winks again. Another drink each; I down mine faster this time but she took her time, sipping and smiling, her lipstick somehow still perfectly showing in the dark, her perfume reaching me and making me feel love drunk. The music carried on but, not a word passed, we walked outside instead, quiet. The silence outside felt so crisp and clear; the wind hit our faces and the bass grew more distant and muffled, muddled with cars and people, as we walked on. Is this how this works? I wondered, having not been that type of girl before. I think she could tell I was nervous as she squeezed my hand and smiled over at me: "Look, if you want to stop, just say. It's your call, sweetie. No means no, so just say the word." "Yes," I heard myself saying without even being aware that was what I was thinking. She smiled back and I laughed, thrilled and scared and aroused in all the ways. The cars carried on driving past, loud music and cat-calling. If I wasn't gay before, idiots like that would turn me, I reckon. Finally, we reached her place. She smiled and opened the door to an apartment. Briefly, I hesitated, but the look in her eyes was enough to make me walk up the stairs to her flat. I've tried to do that look before; my ex- used to call them my "come fuck me eyes", but that was... well, a while ago now. What did I want? I said earlier I knew. When she looked at me, just before opening the door, I knew for certain. I wanted to be fucked. We stepped inside the room and she clicked and locked her door, then pushed me against the wall. Her kiss came suddenly and urgently, as if waiting to do this had turned her on more than she had imagined; it was hot and wet and messy, her mouth wide and our tongues greedily sliding across each other's. She had a tongue piercing which felt so fucking good on my tongue that I could feel myself growing hotter just thinking about it elsewhere... I probed her mouth, exploring as my fingers clenched into her back and pulled her harder and firmer onto me. My lipstick smeared and I could taste cranberry with a kick, her drink of choice I guessed. Her lips were on my neck now, kissing down, sticky and wet. Her tongue licked up and onto my earlobe, her teeth biting it and breath soothing, whilst I fumbled with her skirt and my jeans. "Not yet," she smiled. "Come on sweetie, let's take our time." We walked into her living room and she sat me down on her sofa: "Drink?" I nodded, kinda disappointed that this had suddenly stopped but appreciating her honesty as well. I looked round the room: nice TV, a spent candle on a windowsill, more books than I have read (shamefully), a PC standing in the corner with a webcam fixed on top. My mind went to dirty places, noting two books of lesbian erotica on her shelf as it did so, and she came back, her heels gone now, two glasses of red wine in her hand. She sat down close to me and handed me a glass: "Hey." "Hey," I smiled back, and drank from my glass. Red is not my favourite, but the sight of her throat pulsing with her own drink made me thirsty for it. She drank hers slower than I did mine again; I never thought of myself as a quick drinker but she was proving otherwise. Either that or I was as nervous as I thought. My leg shook, the alcohol hot and soothing and calming. Yes, nervous. "So, do you like my place?" she smiles. "I've only lived in this city for a few months now. I like it though." "Six years," I said. "And, yes." "Yes?" "Yes, I like the place!" I smiled, relaxed. "And the wine." "Really?" she wrinkled her nose. "I'm not a big fan of red." "Oh? Then why..." I indicated the wine glass. "I thought it looked... sophisticated." She stopped fishing for words and bit her bottom lip instead. She looked so fucking sexy there and I could tell that she knew it. She slowly opened her legs a bit and smiled as I couldn't stop my eyes peering down. "I don't normally do this," I blurted, and she just looked at me as if I'd said the weather was cold. "Now seems a good time to learn how..." Fuck it. I put down my wine glass and stooped over her, kissing and pushing myself onto her, my hands pushing back her hair as I kissed her softly and felt her tongue bar flit over my lower lip. Her kisses were wide and wet and messy, but felt so nice on my face, and then my neck. Damn, I never knew lips on my neck could feel so good. I felt her legs arch up and clamp around my thighs as I pushed down and kissed her again, no tongues this time, just lips and hot breath and my hands clasped round her hands, fingers entwined, squeezing hard as I push my belly and thighs onto her and feel her push back, thrusting with a moan and a tongue flitting across my neck. She pulled me up until we were both sitting up and enveloped me in her arms, her mouth firm against mine, her tastes merging with mine and her eyes closed and lost in the kiss. I couldn't help my hands scratching up her top and then dipping beneath it, scratching down with my nails and making her arms around my waist tense with lust. "Come on. God, come on," she whispered into my ear, and suddenly I knew: the red wine to look good, the nervous talk and pause beforehand, the way her chest and heart beat hard against my hands. This wasn't the sort of thing she usually did either. She kissed my forehead and I closed my eyes. I opened them again and saw her taking off her bra, an inky black number that she looked utterly stunning in. I held her hand to stop it coming off, and kissed her, biting her top lip and tugging it my way, my tongue rolling over it as I helped her undo it and gazed, both of us nervously breathing, as her tits were revealed: larger than mine, firm and milky white. She had a small tattoo of a black, inked butterfly just above her left breast, and I stooped over to kiss it. I left a greedy wet mark over it, then shifted down and sucked hard on her nipple, pulling it back fiercely until it was pointed. Her right nipple, pink and turned on already, begged me to take it. I sucked down hard, moaning as it rolled over my tongue and I felt it stiffen, and then I felt her hand grasp my hair. She pulled me up and kissed me with closed lips, my hair slightly pulling but not so much it stings. I looked into her eyes and held her gaze as she let go and I took off my top: no. No, peeled it off. I felt so hot and turned on now, my skin so sensitive and alert to her that it was all I could do to not touch myself now and then as I would do at home. I then realized that she was undoing my own bra (blue, satin, uncomfortable. I'm always so damn glad to get it off). I saw her bite her bottom lip, leaving a small white mark, as my bra fell off to reveal my own nipples, dark and alert to her. She stared at me and then kissed me soft at first, before biting my bottom lip and tugging it towards me as she pinched my nipples. "Fuck..." I breathed out as my body was shocked into being turned on again. "Fuck me!" "Oh yes?" she smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yes," I laughed and kissed her. She kissed me again, savouring my lips and the softness of my fingers grazing her nipples, then pulled away, needy: "Bedroom. Now." We walked back into the corridor when I pulled her into a kiss, as if to say: yes. I want this. Don't worry. She spent some time just looking into my eyes and smiling then leant over and kissed my cheek. She hooked her thumbs in my jeans so I quickly unbuttoned them. She looked like an animal at me, scratching down my chest and taking a moment to kiss both of my nipples, pulling apart my jeans, button and zip tearing as she pulled down my jeans and licked up my legs. I tingled all over as I stepped out of them, shuffling off my flats, and her kisses scraped up my inner thighs and then hovered over my knickers. "Ready?" I pulled her up and kissed her: "Ready." She bent down and onto her knees again. I was so fucking wet and hot for her (still am, still will be) and I could see in her eyes how much this turned her on. She licked up my panties, firm and hard, making the wet patch showing through bigger. She slowly peeled them off and spent a second just looking at my cunt, drinking in its sight and smell. The hair around it was neatly trimmed and she parted it with her fingers. "Nice pussy," she said and, with her fat and hot and wet tongue, she slid up it steadily. Fuck! Her stud felt so good on me, probing and slapping and rolling itself over my labia in one deft and hot stroke. She smiled as a strand of my wetness and cum hooked itself to her tongue stud: "That tastes so good." She closed her eyes and licked up harder and faster, sucking on my clit hood briefly, teasingly. She gazed up at me, mascara-framed eyes teasing: a practised move and a hot one. Her fingernails dug into the skin of my belly as she reached the tip of my pussy and my whole body tensed as it felt electric all over, like my whole body was burning, her stud flitting and making the jolts firmer still. I slipped into her arms as they wrapped around my middle and her lips kissed my belly now, hot and tired, ragged breath. "Stand up," I told her, and she looked surprised that I sounded so forceful. She did and I pulled her to me in a soft and hot kiss, tasting myself on her as my eyes closed and hands strayed, feeling down her skin. I felt sort of dirty, sort of turned on, as my cum tanged on my own lips. Mostly turned on. She pulled back to just look at me. She smiled and then pulled me into a hug. The intimacy threw me slightly, the change of pace making me aware of everything around me: the black and white photo of a beach on the wall, the door slightly ajar glimpsing a kitchen. She took my hand and pulled me into her bedroom. The light went on and there was the brief moment of awkward as tights and socks came off and she shuffled off her skirt and I briefly adjusted my hair and spied my smudged mascara and flushed cheeks in the mirror. I looked over to her and saw her walking over, totally naked. She looked bloody stunning: like, the sort you'd never see yourself with because they are so hot; the sort you see on websites or briefly glimpsed on Snapchat when they're advertising a service. She walked over and I could see her breathe slightly ragged as if nervous. I decided to take over. I roughly pushed her onto the bed and arched a leg up over and onto my shoulder, then looked straight at her as my tongue lapped up her cunt. Her head arched back and I saw her shut her eyes. She tasted... well, hot and needy, as if she'd been wet for a long time now. Pleasing and strong though maybe not the best I've had but, fuck, I so needed this. Her pussy was totally shaven, unlike mine. I parted her labia with a couple of fingers so I could lick wider and fatter and she audibly groaned at it. I went at it quicker now and reached up to her clit hood, sucking down hard and wet, pulling on it and swilling with my lust and want and her own wetness. I took my two, parting fingers now and saw my blue nails slip into her pussy, so easy and wet and hot. I arched my fingers into an L-shape and pulled hard, tugging her closer to me as my tongue flitted and flirted with her clit, and she panted louder now. I sucked harder and she gave me a large, "FUCK!" She could see that I breathed hotter at this, so she carried on: "Fuck me harder." I suck faster, pulling her clit and labia into and out of my mouth, and she screamed a high-pitched orgasm, my chin and mouth and tongue finding themselves coated in her cum. It was sweet and I found myself tasting it more, my tongue triggering her clit again and making her jar, sensitive but wanting, much like me. She paused for breath and, smiling, looked at me. This was going to be a long night... and the moaning I would do were not complaints.