The Bimborg (part 5)
by Doctor MC, Mad Scientist
We’d been inside The Twelve Inch about thirty minutes when Stephanie said, “Two hot women are sitting together at a table, and I think they’re totally checking me out.”
I didn’t turn around yet. “Why do you say they’re hot?”
“Because they look hot, and like, guys keep trying to talk to them.”
“And why do you think they’re interested in you?”
“Because they keep looking my way. And when I look back, whichever girl is looking, she, you know, smiles.”
“Maybe they’re models. Models smile a lot. Or they’re Southern girls.”
“Models smile to look pretty. Some girls smile to look friendly. These smiles say, ‘I want to lick your pussy.’”
“Our special Club has no members but you. Act like you’re bi-curious, and invite them to our table.”
The lighter-haired blonde was Annika. She was from Denmark, and had the accent to prove it. The honey-blonde was Jeri. Annika and Jeri talked to me only reluctantly, while lavishing attention on Stephanie.
After the newcomers had been there ten minutes, the DJ started a new song. I caught Stephanie’s eye, nodded slightly, and glanced at Annika.
Stephanie said, “Hey Annika, do you wanna, like—”
“OW!” Annika exclaimed. “You scratched me!”
And indeed, there were red lines on Annika’s arm, put there by Stephanie’s long nails.
“I’m sorry, I’m like totally sorry,” Stephanie said. “I was going to ask you to dance, and now I accidentally hurt you. Please don’t be mad.”
Annika smiled at Stephanie, then stood up. “Yes, I dance with you.”
Annika and Stephanie held hands as they walked to the dance floor. Jeri turned around to watch them dance—in the process, ignoring me completely.
A minute later, I heard Jeri mutter, “Jeez, Annika, you’re being a total blonde on the dance floor. That’s not going to impress her!”
And indeed, Annika was suddenly having trouble keeping the beat. Stephanie wrapped her arms around Annika and basically force-marched Annika around the dance floor. Meanwhile, I could see Stephanie speaking and Annika replying, but of course nobody but the two of them could hear what they said.
Then they both stopped talking, as Stephanie kissed Annika. Jeri muttered, “You go, girl!”
Stephanie was still kissing Annika. At first, Annika was totally limp, as if she were unconscious while standing. Since nobody was looking at me, I looked at my watch.
After a minute, Annika’s hands started moving around on Stephanie’s back. But the motions looked unnatural—robotic, in fact.
Two minutes later, Annika’s hands and arms were moving around Stephanie’s back like Annika was on the verge of orgasm. The two women were still kissing.
When Stephanie finally broke the kiss, five minutes and 27 seconds after she’d started it, some couples on the dance floor had stopped dancing to watch the make-out session in their midst. When Stephanie stepped back from Annika, people applauded.
Annika grabbed Stephanie’s hand and dragged her back to our table. The next thing that Annika did was to kiss Jeri on the mouth, long and hard. When an amazed Jeri broke the kiss, Annika said in her Danish accent, “You must dance with her! Stephanie is good American woman dancer.”
“You better believe I’ll dance with her,” Jeri said. She said to Stephanie, “You ready for another round?”
“But what about poor James?” Stephanie said. “He’ll be here all alone.”
Annika and Jeri exchanged looks. It was clear to me that Jeri was hot to dance with Stephanie.
Annika said, “Stephanie, if you want someone stay with boyfriend”—a martyr’s sigh—“then I stay.”
Jeri looked relieved. Jeri took Stephanie’s hand and they headed toward the dance floor. Except that after two steps, Jeri stumbled—how odd.
When we could no longer see Jeri clearly, Annika turned to me and said, “I am unit Annika-2, you know? How can I please you, King James?”
“What happened to your accent?” I asked. Annika now sounded American.
She replied, “When I was Welcomed into The Club, I learned how to speak perfect American English. Just as now Stephanie-1 knows everything about Vejle and speaking Danish.”
I said, “Keep the old accent and speech patterns, not only with others but with me. I think your accent is cute.”
“Yes, I obey,” she said in again-accented English. She smiled at me.
I gestured toward the dance floor. “So what’s going on out there?”
She replied, “Stephanie-1 is kissing and Welcoming Jeri.” She giggled. “Oh Jeri-3, you were such a liar.”
“How was she a liar?”
“She always swore that she didn’t get hot for me till the day we went to Six Flags. But the day she met me, I was standing next to my boyfriend Knud, and she was standing next to her boyfriend Hank, and she was thinking about licking my tits.”
“Wait, you each had boyfriends?”
“Yes. I thought I was straight—until Jeri licked me to orgasm. But Jeri dated boys only for the status.”
From the dance floor came chants of “KISS HER! KISS HER!” I looked up and saw Stephanie and Jeri lip-locked on the dance floor.
I told Annika, “Tell Stephanie, I want Jeri or anyone else who’s Welcomed in the future to be 100 percent hetero when I’m ready for fun.”
Annika said, “Don’t worry, Stephanie-1 programmed that into Jeri-3’s brain about thirty seconds ago.”
The Twelve Inch had several safety exits, but I made it a point to go out the same door I’d entered.
That bouncer said, “Hey, you can’t come out this door! Use another one.”
“Wow,” I said drily, “you’re just full of No’s, aren’t you? First I can’t come in this door, and now I can’t come out it. Make up your mind, guy.”
He wasn’t really paying attention to me. I was surrounded by Stephanie, Annika, and Jeri, who were each a) rubbing against me, b) stroking some PG-rated part of my body, or c) doing both.
I said, “You told me earlier tonight, ‘I don’t think you meet our standards.’ Annika, tell him about the night we have planned.”
Annika said, “We leave here, we go to Stephanie’s place. Stephanie drive. James get in back seat of Stephanie’s car. I suck his cock, unless Jeri get there first. When we go in bedroom, James fuck us all.”
The bouncer looked at me openmouthed.
I said, “And by the way, when I go to sleep, I will have spent a grand total of $10.80 tonight, not counting cover charge.”
Annika’s prediction, about her or Jeri giving me a blowjob that night, turned out to be correct.
It turned out that Jeri, a true lesbian and pretend girlfriend, had mastered the art of deepthroat. And Annika had practiced much with Knud, how to suck a guy to the verge of orgasm for two hours straight. So since all three women were in The Club, each could milk my dick with her pussy muscles, each could deepthroat me, and each could tease me with her lips and tongue for two hours.
I ordered Jeri, the former lesbian, to moan and scream, and scratch and thrash, whenever she fucked me. Boy howdy, did she! And that first night, her pussy muscles were tight—I don’t think she’d used them for their intended purpose much before.
When I fell asleep, surrounded by womanflesh, my dick was sore but I was not complaining.