Amusing myself for two hours was just as easily said and done. It was perfectly possible to just park nearby and sit in my car, amusing myself with the few toys I had with me. But, that wasn't exactly fun. Parking nearby and masturbating would probably attract some male passers by, as well, and I wasn't in that mood. Speaking of moods, there were a few clubs nearby with plenty of women the previous time I was there. Two hours was enough for a little bit of frivolous flirting fun. The timing was of course important, as I did not want to miss my rapist prey escaping my grasp once more.
While it is tempting to just skip the hunt for girls in those lost minutes, they were more interesting than expected. All I wanted was just a temporary distraction, but so much more was achieved. So much more was gained.
Let's start with the stage. A club for more mature people, ages mostly between twenty and thirty-five, but some exceptions presented themselves. Colors bright, cheerful, neon and flashing on the beat. Music dancy, barmen teasy, decoration kitschy. There was a nice undertone of taking things a little too far for the sake of humor. A stylized Marilyn Monroe drawing on the wall next to an equally tasteless Kylie Minogue. The irony wasn't lost on me. The play started with seeing two girls, perhaps a little too young to belong here, looking with curious glances around the room. A short moment of assessment confirmed that they weren't looking at men, but women. However, between them, they did nothing. I'd seen plenty of lesbian couples in my life and learned to recognize them fairly easily (just like any couples, really). They were just friends. Giggling and looking at girls, but still friends. It occurred to me that they were challenging each other to flirt or do more with a women.
I knew that game.
While I slowly approached them, they started noticing me and, not entirely unexpected, made fun of me. Not in the sense of finding me terribly ridiculous, but more like almost amusing. They probably didn't guess my age but just found my outfit (rightfully) as over the top as the place itself. But, a smile is always a good way to start. The girls welcomed me with surprise and mild mockery which I returned playfully and nicely. The blush on their cheeks when their own hunt was exposed was worth the teasing tenfold. They hesitated a little, unsure of what to expect from me. It wasn't like I towered above them or, to them, looked so much older. It was just that they felt the shame of their 'unnatural' urges unveiled.
Just friends. Curious friends.
It took time to allow their bravery to flourish. Their curiosity for such simplicity as a kiss defeating the apprehensiveness caused by the location and the moment. Tension rose between them as they fought to decide who would be the first to feel the wonder. Both of them torn between wanting to be the first and wanting to wait and see if it was as good as the girls at school said it was. It was getting quite difficult to resist the urge of pressing their heads together, lips locked, and see if they would give in. That, however, would have spoiled my chances of my own fun. The club itself was very crowded, no one paid any attention to a small group of girls talking in a corner. It wasn't like we were the only ones. The focus was more aimed at the center of the dance-floor, where single guys, or at least those wishing for erotic company, tried to grind their hips against willing girls. Their misjudgements sometimes causing interesting exposes of annoyance. I usually ignored them as much as they ignored me. The girls, however, did not ignore me, the smaller of them finally found the fortitude to try a kiss.
Cherry lipstick, as sweet and fruity as her lips.
Just a little daring peck on my lips at first, with my patient mouth not pushing further, lest I scared away the little birdy. But her desires definitely pulled her beyond that, as she eagerly leaned back to return her mouth back on mine, opening slightly and tasting the sweet saliva on my lips with the tip of her tongue. When finally she found the courage to dance as intimately with our tongues as some boys and girls did with their bodies this very moment on the dance-floor, I was almost shocked at how nimble and small her tongue felt to me. Naughty nymphomanic notions navigated through my mind, imagining how that sharp tongue would feel on my clitoris. The kiss became very intense, time and space completely lost to the both of us as long as it lasted. The way she responded, surprised by the intensity of something as simple as an intimate kiss made me wonder if it was her first. A question forever unanswered, unasked. Finally, when she released, more to take a breath rather than having enough, she positively glowed with a broad satisfied smile.
The other girl wasted no words before she wanted to try, as soon as she noticed that grin.
Her approach was very different, not worse or better as such, but it was obvious her sapphic sensuality surged beyond compare. Instead of starting with a playful insecure peck, her kiss was deep, intense and passionate. Very inexperienced, of course, but still enjoyable. The contrast of her tongue with the girl before was staggering, again not comparing as such, but different. She got the rhythm in seconds, swirling around mine professionally. It wasn't the first kiss she'd ever had, obviously, but it was still an adventure. Because of her brazen boldness, my fingers fluttered over her still developing breasts. There was a short hesitation in the movement of her twisting tongue, but her lust won, hands down. Or up. Her hips ground against mine automatically. As soon as my fingers found those nipples, screaming for attention, her whole body felt like it wanted to explode. The sensual shock when I finally managed to pinch those puny protrusions on her chest was quite satisfying.
The music felt dull and far away when that moment broke, eventually.
The two of them just looked at each-other. The first girl unaware of the brazenness the second girl had displayed and felt. The dark lighting hiding the fact that the nipples of the second girl were firmly attentive of their surroundings. Words were exchanged back and forth, supplemented by looks of lust and experimentation. With a smile, I could literally wait for the moment their lips stopped talking, leaned forward and kissed. On my lips I could still taste the two of them and could predict how the two of them would feel. There was a difference in intention between them though, the first girl was much gentler, calmer and more desiring of a subtle sensation, swooning her off her feet, while girl number two was impatiently insinuating a strong itching for more. It didn't quite match. As soon as adventurous appendages approached those soft and subtle curves of flesh, the first girl asked for time and forgiveness. It shocked the other girl, but I came to the rescue. It was all timing, stepping behind hesitant girl number one and kissing that super-sensitive spot in her neck, just below her ear. A strange little detail, picked up in my many feminine frivolities, and used with pleasure when opportunities arose. The girl was very responsive.
Almost immediately her lips returned to her friend's. Now the two of them, guided by my devilish tongue, could no longer resist the pull they had for each other. It was obvious from the start that this would happen, but it was an enormous pleasure to be part of it. The gentle love and friendship between them was something I couldn't experience myself. So even without their knowledge, I felt pleasure and gratitude just for being present and part of the moment.
Not that I didn't have some fun myself.
My nimble sleek fingers found their way on her stomach, tickling her erotically while she was still locked in that kiss with her friend. Her nipples, already teased clumsily, appeared to be responding. But it was her breath, audible to me despite the loud music played in the place, where my attention laid. As my fingers teasingly touched the edge of her pants, the gasps and shocks of her breath told me exactly how much she was enjoying it. Every moment had to be careful and calm, to let the erotica build up inside of her without any force. The game was way beyond either of their control and, unknowing to them, I held the dice in my hand. Time was passing swiftly in such a situation and I was well aware that I couldn't be part of this for long, but there was one thing I wanted to do before these lovely little vixens were left behind. My fingers had managed to slide into her pants and caressed the curve on her hips, the venus-hill, with gentle movements. She opened her legs by herself, before my hand had even moved that far. The other girl was too lost in their intimate kiss to even notice that my hand had already gone where no man had gone before (and still hadn't).
She orgasmed as soon as the tip of my finger touched her clitoris. So sweet, wet, warm and sensitive.
The slightly sudden explosion of pleasure in her body caused her muscles to tense and, as a logical but troubling result, bite down on her friend's tongue. The thought that it might even be her first orgasm, caused by my fingers, made me incredibly hot inside and simply desiring her slim tongue between my legs even more. She gasped for breath, as did her friend for different reasons. My hands slid unnoticed away in the tumult, one holding her stomach to prevent her from falling down as her legs, in the afterglow of orgasm, were subtly shivering uncontrollably. The other hand, the one who had touched her sacred place, was swiftly guided to my lips for me to taste her sweet nectar. All of this as subtly as I could.
Her eyes first looking at her friend, then at her hands, then my hand on her stomach and my eyes.
She wanted to ask, but didn't dare to. Instead her gaze just lowered itself blushingly, unsure of what to say or do. Her friend, slightly worried and, bringing a smile to my lips, still moving her hurt tongue, asked her what was wrong. With a very small voice, nearly lost in the booming beat of the background, she told her nothing was wrong. Almost angry, the question was repeated to me, insecurity fueling the fear and distrust of strangers. I only had to say one word, to explain exactly what happened. The two of them blushed, it was spoken soft enough but clearly mouthed so that there was no doubt as to the meaning. Both of them averted their gaze, unsure of how to respond. For me, it was rather obvious what they should do and I offered my advice to them. They willingly took it.
This time I didn't meddle. It was a pity, sure enough, but a glance at my watch confirmed that the time had flowed even more easily than I had hoped. It was time to return to my plot. There was some time to spare, naturally, because I wasn't about to risk missing him leaving his work. The walk back to my parked car was noticeably less eventful. From my vantage point I could keep watch on the gas-station. He was still there, my rapist, along and bored. The distinct lack of flirting babes perhaps serving somewhat in his boredom.