Chapter 1

I saw her just last Saturday night at the Abbey. My friend Jamie and I like to go there sometimes to just hang and look at girls, though it’s easier if you are with some girls. The place has a lot of lesbians.

The bitch was slow dancing with another girl, surrounded by a hundred other people jerking and thrashing about to some pop song by a preternaturally pretty pop-star barely 18 years old. The contrast between her slow, sensual undulations and the frantic seizures of those surrounding her drew my eye. What held it there was her look.

She was about 25, perhaps 5’9” or 5’10”, with long lean legs that were accentuated by the tight denim jeans wrapped around them. Her ass was tight and round, and hips narrow though they moved with a detached freedom from the rest of her body as only a woman’s could, rocking back and forth, side to side, and occasionally moving forward to rub her groin against her dance partner. A loose fitting pullover top hinted at a thin waist and small but well formed breasts.

You can tell by my description of her that my eyes were roaming her body, moving up and watching every sinuous movement as she danced. When it finally arrived at her face my breath caught in my throat for a moment. The mix of moving lights from above revealed alternate images of her face. At one moment it was soft, almost that of a teenage girl, the next it was a hard beauty, austere and proud. Her oval face had dark eyes, perfect lips, light skin, all framed by long dark hair.

“Jamie, look at that girl!” I nudged my friend sitting next to me at the bar.

“Which ... the blond with the tattoo? She’s a fox, but too overweight.” It was really hard to hear over the loud music that thudded through our bodies.

“No, no! The tall one, the dark haired, dancing with the other girl!”

Jamie looked and shook his head. “She’s a lez. You can tell just looking at her, plus she’s dancing with a girl!”

“I don’t care, you know Sheila dances with girls all the time and she sure isn’t lez. Or ... at least she fucks guys all the time. I don’t think it means anything.”

Jamie swallowed the rest of his gin and tonic, shook his head and said, “I dunno, Marc, she looks like bad news to me. She’s a bitch, you can tell.”

He was right. You could tell, the way she moved, the way she looked. She was a bitch. And I wanted that bitch. My cock was straining against my pants right then, ready to go. Thank goodness the night club was dark. I have a rather large cock and when it gets hard it is rather obvious.

The tall dark haired bitch left the dance floor and sat down with her girlfriend at a table with about 5 other people. There were maybe five girls and two guys there. I watched for a while, feeling my heart and cock both throbbing together, pounding. I had to meet her. I can still feel the nervousness I felt at that moment.

I panicked when she got up, grabbed a small handbag and looked like she was leaving.

“I gotta go talk to her! She’s leaving.” I swallowed the rest of my beer and left Jamie shaking his head at the bar. I walked up to the girl I had just fallen for and stood stupidly for a moment. Her friend looked at me, and that in turn prompted her to turn and cast her gaze on me.