(Continued from Entry Nine)
Did I mention how sexy she was? Flaming red locks with flicks of blonde hung loosely down her back. Her body was tall, toned, with peach hued skin. With full, ripe lips, they were a temptation I was eager to taste. Thankfully, she wore a bikini that hugged in all the right places As the lush swell of her breasts spilled over her top- even at a distance- I glimpsed the outline of her nipples. She had a narrow waist and curvy hips. I followed the line of her long, taut legs. Black leather, knee-high boots completed he erotic picture.
As I continued to admire my view, I was anything but content. No amount of alcohol could numb the desire I felt. The longer I watched her, the hornier I became. Maddening thoughts swirled around in my head. I wanted to smell her scent. Make her shiver as I ran my tongue up her neck. Take her breasts in my hands, and lick her nipples till they hardened. Did she shave her pussy? I wanted to feel for myself. What sounds did she make when she was turned on? And to add to the insanity, my panties were drench from my own arousal. What to do?
Who wants to get a lap dance? My mind blissfully preoccupied, I barely registered the conversation at my table, until that one question almost had me falling out of my chair. It suddenly felt like Christmas, and I was being given the greatest gift. In my mind, I screamed. “Me! I’ll do it!”
Suddenly, all eyes fell upon me. The guys were grinning like Cheshire cats, including my husband. The ladies all wore stunned expressions. Realization dawned that I had voiced my willingness OUT LOUD. While momentarily horrified, there was no taking it back. Honestly, now that I rose to the occasion, I refused to forfeit. Opportunity was knocking, and I sure as hell would answer. Without hesitation, I pointed to the redhead and confidently declared, “I WANT HER!”
While I have never had sex with a woman, I had one encounter of close, physical contact. It was a small taste, but wasn’t enough to satisfying the yearnings within me.
I was on vacation with my husband and some friends. While I don’t know how it started, it was a tradition to go to a strip club. It didn’t matter if you were married or single. There was never any apprehension on anyone’s part. Personally, I felt like a reborn virgin filled with anticipation for my first experience. This was something I always thought about doing, but the opportunity never presented itself. If my husband was surprised by my agreeing to go, he didn’t show it.
Upon arrival, I was immediately swept away by a sea of beautiful, scantily clad women. Some were mingling with patrons, while others performed onstage. They moved with confidence, unashamed and liberated. I anxiously tried to seek out a redhead among the mass of blondes and brunettes. I could feel my adrenaline pumping, my heart racing. I was about to admit defeat until I spotted her. She was the lone redhead overshadowed by her fellow ladies. To me, she was the one. The only one.
Through the night, she was my sole focus. I can’t explain. I was just drawn to her like a magnet. Unfortunately, I was forced to admire her from a far. Perhaps in an act of cruel torture, she never ventured close to where I was sitting. It crossed my mind a hundred times to excuse myself from my party to get a better look at her. Yet, I worried it would raise suspicion with my husband. Plus, I didn’t want the redhead to think I was being a creepy stalker or something….TO BE CONTINUED
(continued from Entry Three)
The nameless stranger is now a redhead. Instead of sitting apart, I ask if I may share her table. She looks upon me with mild curiosity then simply nods in approval. We don’t exchange any words; each absorbed in our own activity. But I catch the subtle assessing of her green eyes. Her tongue darts out, moistening her bottom lip. I feign ignorance, but my body naturally reacts. I feel myself growing wet between my thighs.
“Um- I’ll be right back”, I announce. I needed to put some distance between us to regroup. Was it my imagination, or was she now looking at me with arousal? I almost run from the table.
This scenario is new to me. Usually, I play the silent admirer. No one actually shows any interest in return. Yet, this girl is definitely interested. Should I make a move? I envision those eyes. How they’d look at me if I touched her. Instantly, I grow hot. I have to go for it.
Getting myself in check, I return to her. Unfortunately, a harsh reality greets me. She is gone. Feeling foolish and mildly pissed, all I want is to get the hell out of there. Hastily I grab my journal, a pink slip of paper lie beneath it. As I read its contents, I audibly gasp. I read it again to be sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. There is no mistaking the blunt challenge.
My name is Becca. Come walk on the wild side with me!
I can’t help the saucy grin that breaks across my face