Chapter 3: Soaked Panties

Alicia arrived late at the Club. She'd had to find excuses to get around business deadlines — and around her girlfriend Rita — to even make it here. She shook her head to get rid of the questions she had seen in the beautiful eyes of her lover. She knew she shouldn't be here. It would never be worth the constant little lies. But she also knew she was perfectly unable to stay away.

After handing her cute raincoat to the wardrobe girl, she entered the restroom to brush her hair, making it shine with luster. She checked her make up and her new, satiny red blouse. It formed a generous V where it wrapped around her chest. It was what she fondly called her sexy Club blouse. Its slippery fabric caressed her skin. Her nipples tightened inside her bra as she watched her eyes in the mirror. They sparkled with breathless expectation. Memories flooded her mind, adding to her arousal.

Her thoughts went back to the very first time she visited Bianca's, the lesbian club that closed recently and caused them to flee to this new place. It had been her first lesbian experience ever and remembering it made her pussy flush. How crazy she had been, a bit tipsy too, to take off all her clothes before stepping into Bianca's salon. What had gotten into her, beside three quick glasses of wine? No one knew her, a room full of eyes followed her as she walked stark naked across the deep carpet.

She remembered standing at the center of the salon, her arms at her back, her breasts pushed out. She was aware of every cell in her trembling body. She felt the tightness of her overstretched knees, the long hair tickling her spine below her shoulder blades, a tiny hidden nerve twitching in her ass cheek. Her voice needed a re-start to formulate her timid hello.

"Hi, girls," she said. "I am Alicia." She wondered if they too would hear the slight slur to her words. But my God, she'd had to find the courage somewhere hadn't she?

The hush in the room was broken by a slow, single applause, soon picked up by the rest of the women. It made her feel warm all over and brought a blush to her face. The gaunt blonde sitting in front of her had been the one to start clapping. She smiled widely.

"Hello Alicia," she said. "Nice to meet you, my name is Sarah." Her voice was a bit hoarse, but sweet and friendly. "You look amazing, sweetie," she went on. "And you must be very brave. Please, sit in my lap." She patted her thighs.

Alicia walked up to the woman and climbed into her lap, smiling as she received a kiss on her cheek. She was very much aware of her naked skin rubbing the woman's dress. Memories of cuddling up with her big sister Barbara made her shiver with emotions.

Hugging Sarah gave her a first notion of how she would feel whenever she wandered into the club — warm, save, welcome and at home. And God, did she need that after the gruesome times of her divorce and her solemn pledge to never, ever be with a man again. The girls at Bianca's that day had wanted to know everything about her and every one of them hugged her, kissed her and made her feel welcome. She relished their sweet attention.

That first day at Bianca's she saw many new faces, heard many new names. Okay, her memory was a bit hazy from the wine she'd drunk to prop up her courage. But she knew they all loved her. Tyana had hugged her, the witty Jewish, London-born girl she imagined to be a true, exotic desert princess. She also met a sweet blond girl calling herself Brit Princess. Her true name was Cassy, but most of the girls preferred using nicknames. Like Aura, the tall blond Australian. And Sarah, of course, whose true name was Shelbi. She told her all she needed to know about Bianca's when most of the cheering and kissing had died down.

Before she knew it she and the blond woman were kissing deeply, their tongues playing like pink slippery fishes. Sarah's long fingers were all over her skin, igniting little fires wherever she touched.

Alicia, thinking back to that moment while watching herself in the mirror, moaned and closed her eyes, just as she had back then.

"I'm sure you'll be very popular in here, sweetie," Sarah had whispered while fondling her breasts. "I bet you like to play, you seem so playful. Are you easy, honey?" Alicia had opened her eyes, looking into Sarah's.

"I'd love to play," she then whispered. "I'm here to forget."

She remembered how Sarah Lust's eyes had held her attention when she'd said that. They danced left and right with those intense little movements some people's eyes do.

"Forget, eh?" she repeated. "This is a great place to forget, sweetie." And she kissed the girl on her half open mouth, moaning as the soft naked tits pressed into hers.

After she reluctantly ended the kiss Sarah moved stray hairs from Alicia's face. She smiled.

"Keep this in mind, sweetie. This place is a garden of fantasies. Anything goes, but remember one thing: what happens here, stays in here. Leave your life at the wardrobe." She turned the girl's head slightly left and asked:

"Do you see the small dirty-blond girl over there, in that shady corner?" Alicia saw her sitting on the floor, with her hands around her folded legs. "She is our little leprechaun, our tightly wound jack-in-the-box. She is very sweet deep down, but she loves to hide that with catty shyness."

The woman chuckled at Alicia's rising eyebrows. Then she went on.

"Her name is Kari. She calls herself Kimmie too. She takes herself seriously. That invisible cloud over her pixie head is called reality. She can't play and have fun. It will be her downfall. The girls will start hating her for it. She is like the one sober guest at a drunken party."

Alicia had watched the petite girl, who stared back with her big blue eyes. Then Sarah pulled her face back and cried out: "Never worry, sweetie, it's party time! So much fun to be had. Now kiss me, lil creature, you have the naughtiest tongue I ever tasted."

Back in the here and now, Alicia stepped back from the mirror to get a more complete look. She tugged at her skirt, turning halfway to check her ass. The skirt was quite a bit shorter than she usually wore and it had a daring slit at the side. She sighed with excited anticipation and opened the door to the Salon.

The bright, familiar atmosphere enfolded her at once, making her heart race. There always was this excitement in the air, a promise of freedom and surprising things to come. It was a loose, careless sensation as if the blood in your veins turned into champagne. It made her dance on tiptoes, crying out every silly thought entering her head. The moment she saw and heard and smelled the place she forgot the tediousness of her life outside.

No demons here, no disappointments, no struggle for life. No men to remind her of painful times. No guilt. No hurt in the eyes of her betrayed girlfriend. No need even to blame herself for her despicable weaknesses. And most of all: no sorry's. This was her escape to mindless paradise — just a few short moments to feel alive. It gave her a handful of borrowed hours to forget the ugly, tiring consequences her real life seemed to thrive on. She just had to — just had to be the innocent, anonymous child she never was.

The pink room was already filled with people, many of whom she knew. But as soon as she entered, she felt a difference. No one came up to her for a hug and a kiss. No one cried out her name in welcome, waving and running to share the latest gossip. They stood with their backs to her at one corner of the great room. Something must be going on. She pushed her slight body through the throng.

Something was going on, something worthwhile.

The woman in black was like no one she'd ever seen. She looked — forbidding. Her chalk white skin was in harsh contrast with the black of her outfit. Was it leather? My God, yes it was, a leather corset, tight and Victorian. Who on earth was wearing that anymore? The straight black bob of her hair was a perfectly dramatic frame for her piercing eyes and her generous lips. They were painted purple and moved like lazy caterpillars as she talked. Being petite, Alicia had to rise on tiptoes to see her talk with Sarah Lust. The two women were seated in chairs, smiling and chatting it seemed. What was the deal? Why all the fuss and attention?

"Who is she?" she asked the girl next to her.

"Dunno," the girl said. "But look, down by her feet!"

Alicia had to struggle through the group to see a girl kneeling in front of the corseted woman. She was whitish-blond and small. Her bare skin looked pale against the dark backdrop of the woman's skirt. A strip of leather encircled her throat like a harsh black slash. A leash was attached to it, running from the collar to the woman's hand. "Like a dog!" Alicia thought, the notion gripping her own throat like a gloved fist.

The girl's head was close to the woman's bare foot. The high-heeled sandal had come off. My God, she was licking her toes! A cloud of heat rose from Alicia's chest. She watched the pink tongue run the length of the foot's arch, then up the ankle, circling its delicate bone. Alicia's eyes could not look away when the girl's lips engulfed all toes at once, taking the foot in until her cheeks bulged. A hot, incredible feeling exploded inside her. She saw how the woman in black caressed the high, naked ass of the girl who leaned down low to pleasure her foot. The fondling fingers were studded with rings, the nails painted purple. The rest of her hands and arms were sleeved in black satin gloves. The leather leash stretched and relaxed, following the bobbing of the girl's sucking head.

"My God," Alicia murmured again. She covered her mouth, but not her eyes. There was a sudden weakness in her knees; it made her want to sink to the floor. Her vision morphed with the fluttering of her lashes. She saw a woman and her child. A child? What she saw seemed to change into something different altogether — something ... holy? A perverted Mother and Child? Holy, she thought? A shiver ran up her spine. How could she even think that? And worse — how could her heart suddenly envy that bound and humiliated girl? How could she even look at it? She was a girl raised with religion. How could she watch and feel the disgusting ache to be the one kneeling, sucking the kinky woman's toes, unashamed and in public? How could she stand it; even pause to consider it?

Oh, she was no innocent. She had acted out her share of depravity, agreeing to suck her brother's cock ever since she was ten. She had proudly blown the cocks of half the male teenagers at high school, just to earn their attention. Later on holy matrimony had turned her into a decent woman, but hadn't that just been a charade? Hadn't she just wrapped up her outrageous sensuality so it would be acceptable for a small town society? Had she really loved her husband or was it his cock and her own selfish pleasure?

Hadn't this place, the Club, been just another venue to satisfy her body with an unending series of illicit encounters, cheating on sweet Rita at home? She had eaten endless pussy, ridden all kinds of vibes and dildo's. She had flirted and kissed, skirting the borders of the unthinkable in this room, flashing her pussy, shaking her tits.