Against the Toilet
When a woman ‘loves’ a woman in the toilet
I feel her eyes bearing into me. She has been watching me since the moment I arrived in the club from the other side of the dark, smoky dance floor. I am used to men's eyes watching—tall, slim, dark hair, dark eyes. They smile and flirt, and I graciously smile back, flutter my eyelashes, and flick my hair before moving on. But this woman has me unsettled. She is tall and curvy, with short blond hair and deep green eyes. Its her eyes that make me nervous, so intense. I can feel them burning into me even when I turn away from her, making me feel self-conscious.
I try to forget her and enjoy the evening with my friends, chatting, drinking, and dancing. As the night wears on, I feel myself relax, the alcohol having it’s desired effect. I make my way towards the bathroom, slightly unsteady on my feet. As I enter the stall, I feel breath on the back of my neck. I turn sharply. It’s her, her green eyes looking almost inhuman under the harsh strip lighting of the bathroom. I try to protest, but she places her finger on my lips and shakes her head, pushing me back into the stall and closing the door behind us. Perhaps its her audacity or the fact that I have drunk to much, but I am finding it impossible to speak. I stare as if hypnotized back at her, deep into those emerald eyes.
Without warning, she lunges forward, kissing me hard on the lips, her tongue invading and exploring my mouth. I automatically try to jerk my head back, but she puts her hand on the back of my head, forcing it to remain still. I can hear people outside, and I want to call out to them, but her lips and tongue have enveloped mine, and I can’t seem to move my arms or legs to try and get away. She has pushed me against the side of the stall now, her hands running down my chest, over my breasts, and trailing down my stomach. Anger and humiliation boil up inside of me, but my body betrays my angry will. I can feel my nipples harden to her touch, wetness developing between my thighs. My breath quickens, and she stares deep into my eyes as her hand moves further down under the band of my skirt, between my legs. As she pushes the silken material deftly to one side, I gasp. Again, she shakes her head and places her free hand over my mouth. Her fingers slide inside. I am both physically and mentally unable to stop her now. I had never felt this turned on, despite the fear and rage welling inside.
Her fingers slide in and out, two at first, bent slightly so the tops rub against my clit, then a third. She starts to rub my clit with her thumb, and I feel my legs go weak. She begins to move them faster and faster; her free hand has slid under my shirt, now squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples one at a time. I can feel myself about to cum; I can’t stop it. I cum quickly, hard, and fast. My body convulses; I feel like my body has had all the energy drained from it, and I might faint. My legs shake.
She looks at me, a slight smile on her face, as I try to regain my breath. Then she raises her wet hand, glistening with my juices, and trails her fingers across my lips. ‘Clean them’ she whispers and slides them into my mouth. I suck and lick, hungrily tasting myself on her. She sighs in pleasure, her chest rising and falling. She steps back, removing her hand. I stare dumbly at her. ‘Get on your knees,’ she murmurs. I obey immediately; it doesn’t cross my mind not to. She raises her short black skirt, revealing her cleanly shaven pussy, slick and wet. I look up at her questioningly, and she smiles and nods, raising one leg onto the toilet seat and opening up herself for me.
I feel panic starting to set in. I have never done this before, not with a woman. What the hell do I do? She seems to sense my hesitation and, firmly but gently, grabs the back of my head and pushes it into her waiting pussy. Tentively, I probe with my tongue, licking along her hard clit. Her groans and the grasping of my hair convince me I am doing something right and I begin to lick harder and probe my tongue further in. She has my hair tightly wrapped in her hand now, shoving my face deep in as I lick and suck—no skill involved, just hungry lust and passion. My hands reach around her and squeeze her firm arse, pulling her as close as possible. Her hips buck wildly. I am scratching down her arse and legs. I have never known lust like it. She begins to moan louder, and I am conscious of giggles and murmurs outside the stall, but I can’t stop now. I close my ears to it, and I slide my fingers inside her, easing in and out, loving the warm, wet feeling, licking her clit as I do it. I can feel the movement of her hips begin to speed up, so I increase my pace. I know she is going to cum and I decide I want too as well, so I slide my fingers inside myself. My fingers sliding in and out of me, matching pace with the ones sliding in and out of her, my tongue licking hungrily. And as the pace reaches its peak, we both orgasm wildly together, bodies thrusting and jerking, breathless.
She falls back away from me against the toilet, trying to catch her breath as I remain limp on the floor. She pulls her skirt back down and takes my hands, meticulously licking every finger clean before staring deep into my eyes with that hypnotic stare.
'Same time next week?’ she enquires with a smile on her face.
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