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A Night with Claire
The bar wasn’t strictly a lesbian bar, but a lot of queer women frequented it. It was also close to my condo on my way home from work, so I tended to end up there at least a couple of times a month, more when I was between girlfriends. That was my situation when I walked in on a Friday night after a long week. I wasn’t even particularly looking to get laid, just have a few drinks without guys hitting on me.
Unfortunately Claire was there, looking like she’d just gotten off work, her hi-vis vest hanging off the back of her chair. Her back was to me as she sat at a table with friends, so I hurried over to a seat at the other end of the bar where I’d be out of her line of sight.
An hour later I was starting my third glass of wine having just finished chicken Caesar salad when Claire sat down beside me. She’d just come in from having a smoke and the smell clung to her, along with a hint of stale sweat. She had obviously come to the bar straight from work without bothering to shower. She caught the bartender’s attention and ordered a double Maker’s on the rocks as she placed her hand on my thigh.
“You’ve got this, right?” She asked as she squeezed. I sighed and nodded to the bartender who added Claire’s drink to my tab.
“We’re not doing this again,” I said. “I told you that last time.”
“Sure we aren’t,” Claire responded with a laugh, taking her bourbon and walking back to her friends. “Come find me in a few drinks.”
Claire and I had hooked up a few times, always when I had too much to drink, and I always felt disgusted with myself afterwards. She couldn’t be more than 22 or 23, more than twenty years younger than my 45. My tastes run to femmes like myself, and Claire was a hard butch with a blue faux hawk. She always smelled of cigarettes which I couldn’t stand, had out of control body hair and never showered after working on a city road crew all day. Unfortunately she was also a monster in bed and it had been four months since I last had a girlfriend. I downed the last of my wine and ordered a vodka Diet Coke.
I spent the next two hours trying to find a woman my age-or at least a femme-on the pull, but no luck. I was well past tipsy when I saw Claire step out for a smoke. Hating myself, I followed her. She was standing alone by the butts can and had just lit a smoke. She took a long drag then handed me the lit cigarette as I walked over. I took a tentative puff and started coughing as she pulled out a second cigarette and lit up. Claire didn’t say anything, just watched me smoke and occasionally exhaled a big puff of foul tobacco into my face.
I finally finished the cigarette she had given me, and still without saying anything we walked back into the bar. I went to the bar to pay, and Claire followed me. I asked for my tab and Claire chimed in with, “Mine too.” I paid both of our bills, even though Claire’s was much larger than mine. She had been drinking top shelf whiskey all night; I don’t think she ever intended to pay for it herself. If I hadn’t ended up paying for it, she probably would have found someone else from her harem of older women.
While I paid, Claire went to grab her stuff and say goodbye to her friends. I ended up standing by the door and waiting while the other girls and token twink at Claire’s laughed and shot me glances that were a mix of amusement, disgust and pity. When she finally came over, Claire took me by the hand and led me out the door. We walked hand in hand for a little over a block before she let go, showing off her possession of me. Still walking she pulled out and two cigarettes, handing them to me. Knowing what she wanted, I stopped walking. Claire didn’t. I quickly lit both cigarettes, puffing them at the same time and coughing. I hurried to catch back up with Claire and handed her one, reluctantly sucking smoke from the other. She saw my lipstick on the filter and laughed before taking a drag. I had quit smoking more than fifteen years ago and I was feeling a little nauseous escort london as we walked.
“I love to look at your oh so prim and proper ass,” Claire said, pushing me ahead of her as we walked and I could feel her eyes on the back of my suit skirt as she followed behind me. I knew the way to her shitty basement suit and led us there, gagging on the cigarette. Claire lived five blocks from the bar, and for the entire walk I was torn. On the one hand was an intellectual desire to get the hell out, and on the other hand was a very different desire focused below my waist. My panties had gotten so damp that it was uncomfortable to walk by the time we arrived at the rundown bungalow that she rented the basement of. I tried to convince myself that I’d rather be home alone in my much nicer condo. It didn’t work and Claire unlocked the side door and led me down the stairs.
Her living room was a sty, book, empty pizza boxes and discarded beer cans covering most of the surfaces. “Grab me a beer and one for yourself,” Claire said as she walked into the washroom, closing the door most of the way behind her. I opened the fridge in the tiny kitchenette, which was full of bad beer and old takeout and grabbed two cans of Lucky. As I did I heard the hiss of Claire’s pee hitting the toilet bowl, followed by a couple of heavy plops. Claire came back out, not bothering to turn on the fan or spray to cover the smell. I opened and downed half my can of terrible beer. I wasn’t sure if I was looking for courage to stay or to leave.
Claire sat down on her ratty couch and turned on the TV while I handed her her beer. I started to sit beside her, but before I could she commanded, “Skirt off.” Humiliated, I set down my beer and pushed down my skirt and panties.
“Panties stay on for now,” Claire snapped. I pulled my cream coloured panties back up, wet spot on the front obvious as I stood there, unsure of what to do. Claire flipped through Netflix, drinking her beer, ignoring me. Finally, as she started some stupid TV show I made to sit again, only for Claire to finish her beer and hand me the empty can.
“Another,” was all she said.
I took her can and tossed it into the mostly empty recycling bin, finishing my own beer as well. I grabbed another two cans, handed one to Claire and sat beside her before she could stop me with some other demand. She didn’t even bother to look at me, just slid her hand between my legs and on top of my panties as she kept watching TV. At first her hand just rested there, but soon enough she was rubbing up and down as I got wetter and wetter. My first small orgasm happened as Claire finished her beer.
Claire passed me her empty as I caught my breath. She still didn’t look at me as I stood to go get her another beer.
“Wait,” she said, eyes on the TV. “Panties off.”
I quickly pulled down the sodden fabric, and Claire finally turned towards me. She lent down and picked up the panties, looking at the massive wet spot. Then she balled them up and pushed them into my mouth, making me taste myself. Small tears ran down my cheeks as I grabbed her another beer.
Sitting back down I allowed Claire to spread my legs and lay her palm on my uncovered crotch. Her fingers danced across my waxed skin, in and out of folds, in and out of me. Two progressively stronger orgasms hit me as the last ten minutes of the show played out on the TV. Claire didn’t look at me, seemingly indifferent to my moans and grunts. When the show ended Claire turned off the TV, stood up and walked into her bedroom, pulling me along by a wrist. There was barley enough room for a couple of Ikea dressers and an unmade double bed in the room, and the floor was covered in mounds of dirty laundry.
Claire sat on the edge of her bed and watched as I took off my jacket, blouse and bra, folding them and placing them on the least dirty looking pile of clothes I could see. Then I went over to the bed, pushed aside the quilt and lay down beside Claire. My panties were escort service still in my mouth, but at least I wasn’t tasting myself anymore. Claire grabbed her only pillow and pushed it under my hips, raising my pelvis. Then she lowered her head to my left breast and began running her tongue over it. One of her hands trailed down my stomach, then, avoiding my crotch, began to squeeze and rub my upper thigh. Claire’s tongue found my nipple, standing to attention. Through a sexual daze I felt a bead of moisture escape my pussy and slide down my butt crack to hit the pillow under my hips. My body gave and involuntary jump as the wetness slid across my asshole, which in turn became a desperate air hump as my body begged for Claire to pay attention to my pussy. I grabbed the back of her head and pressed her face harder into my breast.
A savage bite to my nipple made me cry out in pain and pleasure, panties falling from my mouth as a small orgasm hit me, the first I’d ever had with no direct stimulation to my pussy or clit. As I gasped in shock, Claire moved her mouth over to my other breast, her hand continuing its track up and down my inner thigh, never quite landing on my crotch where I so desperately needed it.
After and unknowable time that felt like hours and seconds at the same time, Claire released my breast and began kissing down my stomach. She again skipped my crotch and began kissing up and down my thigh as her hand massaged the other thigh.
“Please,” I cried.
Claire sat up, removing her hand and mouth from me. “Please what, you dirty old slut?”
“Eat me,” I begged, almost in tears from the frustration.
My face burned with humiliation but I knew what Claire wanted to hear. “Eat my cunt. I need it so bad!”
“Why do you need it?”
“Because I’m a disgusting old lesbo and I need your tongue in my cunt!” I screamed at her, not caring if the upstairs neighbours could hear. They were probably used to it by now.
Hearing my admission, Claire dove in. Her hand found my opening and two fingers easily slid in, followed immediately by a third and a fourth, forcing me almost painfully open. At the same time her lips, her tongue, her teeth wrapped around my clit. I tried to cry out but my lungs seized and my back arched as the orgasm hit me. Her hand worked savagely in and out of me while her mouth was almost gentle. I lost all track of time, space, everything, overcome by along rolling orgasm.
I was half conscious and drunk on my own body’s sensations when Claire pulled away an eternity later. In my daze I could see my wetness clinging to her chin and hand. She stood and undid her jeans revealing a pair of men’s boxers which in turn got pushed down to reveal a damp forest of unkept brown pubic hair. Her plaid flannel shirt hit the floor seconds later. Underneath it she was wearing a sweat stained wife beater undershirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her small breasts, capped with large dark areola, were clearly visible through it.
“On your knees,” Claire commanded as she began to rummage through one of the small dressers. I rolled over, kneeling on all fours as sticking my ass in the air as I watched her over my shoulder. Claire found the harness and dildo she was looking for, and strapped it over her crotch before climbing onto the bed behind me. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and used it to point my hair forward as she thrust the dildo into me, all the way to its base in a single move.
With one hand tangled painfully in my hair, Claire fucked me slow and hard. Her free hand alternated between squeezing my breasts and nipples where they hung from my chest and diving down to my clit to trigger another ripple of pleasure. My legs wobbled, I was covered in sweat and moaning incoherently when her hand finally left my breasts and pussy alone. A few seconds later Claire let go of my hair and spread my butt cheeks apart. Then there was a firm wet pressure against my asshole. Claire had obviously sucked escorts in london on her thumb to get it wet and was about to anally violate me with it.
“Not in my ass,” I pleaded. “Not today.” I hated anal play. It was always painful and made me feel dirty.
Of course Claire ignored me. She continued to fuck me with the strapon as she increased the pressure on my asshole. I tried my best to concentrate on the incredible feeling of the dildo filling me, sliding in and out in a wonderful way, ignoring how Claire’s thumb felt like a red hot poker forcing its way into my sphincter. Soon her thumb was as deep in my ass as Claire could force it, and there she left it, never stopping her steady fucking of my pussy. My body betrayed me; I had another orgasm before she finally pulled first the dildo from my pussy and finally her thumb from my ass.
My relief was short lived as the dildo was pressed against my asshole.
“No no not again oooooowwwwww,” my pleading quickly turned into a drawn out cry of pain. The dildo, which had seemed the perfect size in my pussy, was now a giant monster invading my ass. I tried to pull away but Claire kept a firm grip on my hips as she sodomized me. Tears streamed down my face as the dildo went in as deep as it could, Claire’s thighs pressing against my butt cheeks. It was then that she reached around and found my clit again, adding intense pleasure to the pain. She fucked me like that, driving hard and grinding into my asshole like a maniac while furiously working my clit for what seemed like hours but was probably only ten minutes. To my shame I came twice more, each orgasm sending contractions throughout my body, including my asshole which clamped down even harder on the dildo, adding more pain to the pleasure.
With my last orgasm Claire stopped fucking me, but didn’t withdraw the dildo. Instead she unbuckled the harness and left the dildo in my ass, dangling the straps. I collapsed to the bed and had a moment of respite before Claire rolled me over. Her knees straddled my head and her pussy dropped onto my mouth, my nose becoming lost in a thicket of pubic hair. She smelled musky and dank, arousal mixed with stale sweat from working outside all day. I could tell that it had been at least a day since her last shower, but that didn’t stop me from devouring her. My tongue ran from the bottom of her slit to the top over and over, sending a runnel of wetness and saliva down my throat. I sent my tongue diving as deep into her as I could, feeling the velvety softness inside her pussy. Claire moaned and ground down onto my face, her hair feeling like a dish sponge rubbing my nose and cheeks raw.
As the grinding reached a fever pitch I moved my attentions to Claire’s surprisingly small and delicate clit, still mostly under its hood. I wrapped my lips around it as she let out and explosive moan. I sucked her clit past my lips and began to work it with my tongue. I didn’t think it was possible but Claire got even wetter. Her juice dribbled down my chin and she ground harder and harder onto my face, occasionally crushing my nose and cutting off my air. I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. She finally came with an explosive grunt and settled heavily onto my face, panting as she came down off the orgasmic high.
Claire rolled off my face and lay down beside me, both of us panting. Eventually she opened the drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a crumpled cigarette package. She lit us both a smoke and the nicotine smell joined that of sweat and sex. I took a couple of drags before reaching down to remove the dildo still lodged in my ass.
Claire slapped my hand, stopping me. “Go to the bathroom. I don’t want you pulling that thing out here and getting shit on my sheets like last time.”
My face burned with embarrassment as I remembered the small accident that had followed the last time Claire fucked me in the ass. I got up and hobbled out of the bedroom, the dildo making it awkward and painful to walk.
“Get me another beer while you’re up,” Claire yelled after me.
Just like after the last time I let Claire use me, I promised myself it would never happen again. Maybe I would keep my promise this time.
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