Cinderella's One

A Night Out

by Madison Langston

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My eyes settled on a redhead sitting at the bar. She’d been trying to lock eyes with me since I came in. She was perhaps a year or two older and, judging by her long elegant legs, a little taller. She was beautiful without being pretentious; confident without being pushy. Cindy and the younger woman next to her hung on her every word. I found myself envious of her companions.

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I couldn’t help wondering how I’d react if she came on to me. Hmm, might be interesting to find out. I felt something at my center twist.

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I’d only had sex with hard bodies and thick dicks. But something about being there among women who desired other women brought back secret fantasies, ones I only indulged while pleasuring myself.

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The place got livelier as more women came in: mostly single, the occasional couple holding hands. The music had changed to something with a more energetic beat. Half a dozen couples were on the dance floor, some actually dancing. Others simply swayed with the music. One recent arrival, a slinky brunette, matched up with a chubby blonde and they immediately joined the others on the floor, locked lips, and began rubbing bodies.

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Just then, the door opened, and a tall, strikingly handsome woman with short hair sauntered in. She wore tight jeans, a western-style blouse, and suede ankle boots.

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Walking straight to the bar, she began a bantering flirtation with Cindy and the redhead. Something about the way she moved spoke of frequent visits to the gym, much of it on the weights, judging by her shoulders and upper arms.

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I assumed she was a regular patron. In fact, it seemed everybody knew everyone. Obviously, women came to Cinderella’s to connect, but it seemed they came to be among friends, too. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of their closeness.

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I sipped my free margarita and debated whether to go back to my room or check out another bar I’d seen further down the street. I settled on finishing my drink and moving on, but the guilt of taking a free drink and giving nothing in return bothered me. Shouldn’t I at least pay for one drink, maybe a smaller one, this time?

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Women continued arriving, filling up the bar stools, and packing the dance floor. As the place got busy, another bartender and a cocktail server joined Cindy.

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Someone had switched on more speakers, and the music reverberated off the walls, loud and lively. I found myself weaving a little in my seat. The urge to move was hard to resist, but not wanting to draw attention, I kept it below the table.

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As I sat staring into my nearly empty schooner, contemplating another, I became aware of someone approaching my table. Looking up, I found myself gazing into the startling green eyes of the redhead.

She smiled and her lips moved, but I couldn’t make out a word she said. When I didn’t respond, she leaned over, grasped my hand, and pulled me to my feet. Before I could object, she dragged me to the dance floor.

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I’d slow danced back in St. Louis, but this was different. The music had already infected me, so rather than look a complete idiot, I copied her moves and quickly realized the joy of responding to the beat, letting myself go. The oversized margarita had done its job.

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As we swayed with the music, the woman’s gaze followed my every move, undressing me with her eyes. For some reason, it didn’t bother me. Perhaps it was because I expected that from her, or maybe I enjoyed the attention. Before I could decide which, the music ended.

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The last beat had barely bounced off the walls when my bold redhead wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. I wondered if the music program followed a fixed sequence. How else would she know the next song would be a slow one?

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As Celine Dion’s crystal tones filled the room, my partner took control, hugging me tighter, merging our bodies as one. When she placed her cheek on mine, and her warm breath wafted across my ear, the intimacy of our position registered full force. I floated over the floor in the arms of this sexy woman, who had libidinous plans for me, and all my erogenous zones began firing, especially my breasts.

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