It was the night after the night before, a night which had stayed with me throughout the day and even slipped in while I was getting ready to go out this evening to a rock disco at one of our usual haunts. I’d be going to meet one of my girlfriends Des at her place then onto the venue.

Desdemona and me had been close friends since 6th form college, initially bound by a love of the same music and clothes then we soon discovered also, attitude. We were like-minds and could almost uncannily read each other’s. We were peas in a pod, and also sometimes in the same bed, but never as a couple, our friendship was just what it was, inseparable but in no way exclusive, we were both single bisexual women and for the time being liked it that way.

I wore a dark blue slip dress with over shoulder straps crossed at the back, shortish admittedly, a black lace non-padded strapless bra, black floral Brazilian knickers and black lace hold-ups, and topped, or bottomed, off with my black fur-lined mid-ankle boots. Des wore a random floral black on black midi shirt dress, a pair of black suede block heels and her hair loose. So, that was us locked and loaded and ready to rock, eventually when we got there.

We were freely ushered in by the affable, but don’t get on the wrong side of them, door security, as they recognised us as regulars as we did them. It was gone 10m by now and it was well underway as we found a table and then the bar. No sooner had we got there than found ourselves with other friends of different ilk and no sooner than that we were up and dancing. And dancing. And dancing. Yes, I love dancing, especially to music I particularly like.

Mostly just me and Des, but also sometimes the others joining the throng of relative strangers on in the dance floor. after a while the beats and drink were doing their job in seeping deep down into my body, rattling every bones and enticing every muscle into action and me and Des sometimes got quite over the top, as we did now. She danced closer to me, closer and closer, we held hands, let go, moved up and down each other’s squirming limbs, shouted whatever into one another’s ears about whatever, laughed and generally felt better and better, and sweatier and sweatier, as the hours drove on through the shredding sounds.

During one song we found ourselves face to face, body to body, she having pulled me into her orbit, which wasn’t’ hard to do as she was stronger than me, taller and intensely attracting as she was sensuous. Our hips and even our breast brushed one another, arms and hips and even buttocks when we turned around. This was all making the evening even more the perfect destressor after a busy week. As I faced her at one point I felt another body sidle up behind me and press almost as close as I was to Des. I couldn’t turn proper to see who although I knew Des could. I mouthed to her, who is it? She just smiled and winked, suggesting to me it was someone we knew at least. We continued as we were as both Des and, whoever it was, got so close to me front and back as to leave me little room for anything but to move exactly as they moved as though we were caterpillars blindly crawling across each other.

I closed my eyes and felt and smelled his body behind me, not an unpleasant smell, but masculine for sure, his legs and arms and yes, hips making frequent contact with me. Even his fingers were finding ways to move along my bare arms. I didn’t mind as it all felt part and parcel of the moment as I seemed to have become packaged up between them both, almost conspiratorially.

Another song pumped through the impressive and immersive sound system courtesy of Ms DJ. His hands, as well as Des’s were becoming very loose over my skin, my dress, as I felt sweat trickle down my cleavage and looking up watched the strange pockmarked ceiling of coloured lights, almost but not quite tacky and reminiscent of maybe another decade. I hadn’t realise my dress was rising and falling with certain sweeps of her hands, or were they his?

It wasn’t revealing me in any way as to be regarded rude but still, I felt the light fabric swishing along my warm skin which admittedly sent particular ripples through me making me move more willingly with their bodies. Then out of nowhere, or perhaps not nowhere, Des’s hands cupped my breasts and then released me, then again, gently and probably not really something anyone else would notice. I widened my eyes at her while she just danced regardless almost in complete innocence of what her hands had just done, and done again, and were doing again.

I didn’t stop her roaming digits as it wouldn’t be the first time and I knew how exhibitionist she can be. It was also quite dark in there, despite the outdated ceiling and there were so many people, all of whom doing pretty much their own thing, some definitely most sensuously themselves. It did have the effect of making my nipples respond though I noticed pretty soon, which wasn’t a bad thing and seemed to make my body just pleased to feel so good.

She did this a few times while I noticed his hands on my this stranger, or was he, behind me, who hadn’t as yet as far as I heard uttered a single word, and Des seemed to know. I suddenly remembered the night before at the concert when a mad did similar, cramming up behind me in the crowd and basically fondling me in public to the point where I had the most incredible orgasm. What a truly bizarre coincidence that it should happen twice, if this is what this was. I didn’t know, had not conceived of such a thing happened twice, and not with 24 hours of the last time.

Des moved her hips closer against mine which just send enormous shivers through my incredible hot, perspiring body. She was so sexy, it was impossible not to respond to her and be excited by her motions and boldness. His hands stayed on my hips, moving me, moving us. Who was in control of how we moved as one, all three of us I didn’t know but it clearly wasn’t me. It was then Des squeezed one boob making the strap on that shoulder slip down letting her hand slip beneath the dress and over my unpadded bra slightly revealing the lace from under my dress. All I did was catch my breath and enjoy, because I was enjoying it, immensely, despite feeling also somewhat wary and embarrassed of where we were: not in the privacy of one of our bedrooms.

Once again I was conscious of his hands, his fingers digging into my hips, feeling my curves, the hem of my skirt come higher, just as it had last night.

I had a flash: was this the same guy? Surely not, that would be too weird. But then again, is that any weirder than it being someone completely different doing pretty much the same thing, except this time seemingly in collusion with Des? I was trapped between them and my own rising heat now coursing through my veins racing my heart beat.

How willing was this, as it turned out, public display of seduction? How willing was I?

His hands moved down my legs over my stockings, fingering the lace tops ensuring my compliance even more as I felt skin become molten in substance. It was a dizzying bliss, this cocktail, cacophony, of stimuli attacking me on all sides, even from within. A switch inside me had been flicked and I was exposed to a touchscape of possibilities.

Des continued to arouse my emotions keeping me at a level from where I couldn’t so easily escape or come down. His touches continued around my blue dress, rumpling it between his grip, tenderly squeezing my thighs then easily slipping the hem higher until I knew and felt without even looking down I was becoming more exposed on this crowded dance floor.

Des lifted my arms and wrapped them around her neck and continued enticing my nipple until much less relaxed than it was. This gave him free-reign to ease my dress high enough to expose my knickers and move across each buttock first before freely sliding around the front and rubbing my hip bone where the elastic of my underwear stretched across. His hand found my mound still outside the material and felt me pulling me against him serving both to secure me and prevent what we were doing now being so easily visible among the thronging bodies.

I was held fats against his groin feeling him beneath his jeans, imagining how hard he was, I couldn’t help but visualise his tension within and massaged slow but firmly pushing the lace of my knickers against my clit then down my folds increasing my, and probably his, sense of urgency. He did this for a while, though how long I wasn’t sure, while Des continued monopolising the entire front of me. My legs almost gave way as I felt a twinge from his touch stimulate me further, an inevitable moistening, he pulled the elastic away from my waist and let his hand move bare ad naked over me, also bare and naked underneath, finding me aching inside, muscles contracting at a rate imperceptible to anyone but me.

I felt impending convulsions, almost sick with the movement now, the heat, the swaying, my head too light now; I had cum there and then, irretrievably. With it I found I’d pushed back against his hardness inside his jeans. Des held me ever closer her lips so close to mine but not kissing. I closed my eyes again tightly feeling my legs now barely touching the floor even though they were knowing full well if they weren’t holding me up I’d have collapsed. He kept up his intimate connection with my sex, his motions once more insisting and wanting more from me. After the wave had passed I felt another on the way if tis kept going on; it kept going on. They seemed both determined to make me, there in public, to make me scream, and even though I was inside I wouldn’t give into vocalising it.

That is, not until his fingers increased their pace of masturbating me and I thought I would die there and then holding back the implosion that came soon enough and I buried my face in Des’ shoulder silently screaming and teeth grazing her dress. I could smell her scent, beautiful, intoxicating. I’d noticed of course earlier in the evening but now it was like a drug and inhaled as much of it as I could like it was oxygen.

His fingers kept making me cum making me so tender I almost told him to fuck off! Fuck off! I didn’t but inside I did. Only then did I wonder if anyone had seen, or watched, or even noticed: all these bodies in their own trance or mouthed conversation mostly oblivious.

I shook, shivered; I grabbed, I held onto Des like my strings had been cut. She held me lovingly.

Only after a few minutes did I realise there was no one now behind me. He was gone. A slow rock ballad oozed from the speakers, perfect for our close embrace as it happened and just as well, as standing on my own two legs at that moment would have been impossible.

I didn’t turn around. There wasn’t anyone there anymore I felt my emotions starting to mesh once again with my senses and the world around me come back into normal focus. At the end of this song me and Des made our wobbly way back to our table where I looked at her with a kind of strange relief and she just smiled, knowingly. Knowing this was just what I wanted and, the opportunistic sneaky cow that she is, took it.

© Emmaleela

blind faith: instinct


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