Happened one night when I was younger. I had been Bi for a couple of years and my confidence had grown enough to visit lesbian clubs and lesbian bars. I was 26 and married but decided to experiment further with lesbian sex.

On this particular night I had been drinking red wine all night. My inhibitions had been shed as the night had wore on. I’d danced with a few girls and even had a snog and a cuddle with a girl in a the toilets.

We had been just about to slip into one of the cubicles and get into it together when her girlfriend had caught us. But I was in party mood but it was getting late and I wasn’t sure I’d manage to hook up with another girl before the time came to run for a bus back to my home alone as my husband was at sea.

The place was dark, occasionally coming alight with flashing strobes as the music pulsed its dance beats. Like some kind of lesbian pied piper, the music called the girls to the dance floor, called us to dance together, to hook up together, to have sex together. The room swam a little with the heady atmosphere, the combination of the wine and the music and the general euphoria. The sheer bliss of watching so many sexy girls move, dance and kiss together — a lesbian heaven.

As I stood against the bar, sipping my wine and soaking up the atmosphere, a little too drunk to act, I felt a firm hand upon my arm.

I turned to look and there beside me was a muscular looking girl with a dark complexion — Mediterranean looking or perhaps Arabic. She had very short cut dark hair and she wore a white sleeveless t-shirt that revealed a fierce looking dragon tattoo on her right shoulder.

“You want a drink pretty girl?” she said, the corner of her mouth curling up in a knowing smile as she peered lustfully at my breasts with her dark brown eyes. Her voice had a marked accent — Italian or perhaps Spanish.

I finished what was left of my wine, smiled at her and nodded a little sheepishly. This woman was really butch. I had never been with a butch girl before but the thought of being chatted up by one excited me more than a little. She was also clearly older than me which is a plus for me, in her thirties I thought, perhaps in her mid-thirties.

“Red wine please.” I held out my glass and she turned casually to the bar and ordered a large glass of red and a shot of whiskey for herself.

“What’s your name?” she said handing me the wine.

“Sarah.” I replied.

“You have pretty blue eyes Sarah.” She said, staring once more lustfully at my breasts. “And nice tits.”

I laughed a little nervously.

“Don’t be nervous Sarah.” She said. “I am Carla.”

I sipped my wine. The euphoria of the night made me a little more forward than I would usually have been, so I asked. “I like your accent, are you Italian?”

“I am Spanish.” Said Carla. “A red blooded Spanish butch!” and with that she smiled and flexed her biceps for me like a bodybuilder.

True enough her biceps looked incredibly well toned and strong.

“I am a body builder.” She said. “See! Stronger than most men!”

“I can see.” I said, swaying a little with the alcohol.

“You like that?”

“Yeah.” I said. “Most impressive.”

“Have a feel if you like?”

I reached out tentatively and squeezed her biceps just a little. Oh my god, they really were firm.

“You like that?”

“Yeah.” I whispered.

She reached over and kissed me passionately on the lips, her tongue slipping deep inside my mouth. It was so sudden I was almost paralyzed by it but I couldn’t resist her commanding approach. She thrilled me with her bravery.

“You’re a pretty little English girl.” She said. “Such blue eyes, such nice blond hair and ... such firm nice young tits.”

Her hand cupped my left breast through my clothes and squeezed gently as she planted another kiss on my lips.

“How old are you Sarah?”

“26” I replied. “And you?”

“36” she replied “I like English blonds. Especially young! In Spain there are not so many blond girls.”

I smiled a little sheepishly. “I like Spanish girls.” I said quietly.

“I could tell when I kissed you.” said Carla. “You like the dark hair and brown eyes yes? And the tanned skin? English girls all like that I think.”

I smiled.

“Do you like the muscles?” asked Carla, flexing her biceps again. “Nice and strong to hold you down late at night!”

“Yeah.” I smiled softly.

Carla leaned over and whispered in my ear “I want to fuck you.”

She leaned back and looked at me expectantly. I just laughed a little nervously and stared into my drink.

She leaned over again. “I think you want to get fucked tonight. I think you want me to fuck you.”

And then she whispered in my ear “Te voy a follar puta!”

The sound of her Spanish words thrilled me with sexual excitement. I offered my neck to her to kiss and she planted a soft kiss and a playful bite on my neck.

“Oh yes, you like that don’t you.” She purred. “Te voy a follar puta!”

“What does that mean?” I asked, offering up my neck for more kisses.

“That I want to fuck you.” She whispered in my ear. “And I think you want to be fucked like a dirty little whore. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of nerves and sexual excitement.

She ran her hand up the inside of my t-shirt and bra to squeeze my left breast as she kissed my neck and said. “Then come back with me to my flat and let me fuck you like a cheap, dirty whore — a puta barrata!”

I smiled and nodded as we finished our drinks. She put her arm firmly around my neck, kissed me and laughed as she guided me fairly forcefully out of the club. “Come with me, my little puta barrata.” She whispered in my ear as she led me away. I knew I was hers now.