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We were far longer in bed – and then in the bathroom – than we had planned but we didn’t rush supper. The Copa club was going to be open well into the small hours of the morning and given the tiny nature of our dresses, neither of us thought that we would be there for very long in any case.
It was – mercifully – fully dark by the time a cab arrived to take us to our slightly seedy destination and we slid into the rear seat as discretely as we could, just two dresses, two small clutch bags and two pairs of heels being all that stood between us and quivering bare skin. The driver seemed not to notice how little we wore and it was just as well his rear-view mirror wasn’t able to focus on our laps where the hems of our dresses barely covered two already slightly damp areas.
Debbie paid the fare when the cab arrived outside the club and we slid out as carefully as we’d slid into the vehicle. As the car sped away I dragged her to the closed, darkened shop beside the Copa and we prevaricated over entry to the venue by checking our hair and make-up in our reflections in the windows of the store.
“Ready?” I asked at last.
I was expecting a wide-eyed grin and some frantic, nervous nodding, but Debbie instead looked almost downcast. She took my hands in hers, “I am,” she said, “but only if you really are.”
“Dallas, please,” she cut in, “I really don’t want you to do anything just because you only want to please me. I know it’s all been fun so far but I couldn’t bear the thought that you might be uncomfortable just so you… well, impress me, or you’re trying to do things that you think I want even if you don’t.” I went to interrupt but she shushed me and carried on, “Dallas, I want you to have every bit of fun you have ever dreamed of, but I would hate myself – really, really hate myself – if I ever thought for a second that I was somehow pushing you into things that were not what you wanted, or made your feel cheap or dirty or-“
This time I managed to still her words, “Debbie! Stop fretting. Sure I’m stepping into areas I’d never have dreamed of visiting before I met you but I’m loving it all. Have you any idea of how proud I felt to be seen on that bus earlier? How proud I was to be by your side or how proud I am now, ready to play some new naughty games with you?” I gripped her hands tighter, “But I feel the same as you, okay? Are you sure you’re not doing these things just to please me or tease me?”
Finally the smile appeared and she drew me into a tight hug, “No way. I’m just loving sharing all these silly, naughty games with you. And hey, when it comes to pride, that’s my baby. Two days ago I thought I was a moderately happy straight chick with a moderately fun life, but I had no idea what happy and fun were all about, did I? I swear, Dallas, you’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been.”
I kissed her once, softly, “I want that for you. And if I ever say that I’m only doing something because it pleases you then just know right now, I mean that if it pleases you it pleases me. If you asked me to go in there and strip off this little dress because it would make you happy, then I’d do it simply because I know how wonderful it would make me feel seeing you so happy.”
She pulled back and raised an eyebrow, “Actually, now you come to say that…”
I was about to ask – nervously – whether she was really thinking about that when she burst out laughing. I stared, open-mouthed, my own laughter bubbling up “You terror!”
“I’m getting the impression that’s just what I am. But does that mean you don’t love me anymore?”
“Oh you are impossible!” I giggled, “Impossible for me not to love!”
A flash of seriousness crossed her smiling features, “This is the best feeling ever.”
“Yeah,” I said, “The very best ever. Now, like I was saying, are you ready to go in?”
“I am now… and thanks.”
“Yeah, thanks, Dallas. I feel as if I just needed to be sure that everything was what I hoped it was.”
I laughed, “I think I understand that. For the third time, then, ready?”
Debbie let me go and turned towards the club’s doors and the two bouncers who were huddled together sharing a cigarette, “Suddenly I’m more ready than ever.”
I took her hand in mine and began to march towards the doors, my nerves beginning to jangle as I felt the night-time breeze fluttering under my tiny dress, felt the reality of what we were about to do beginning to hit home. And I wanted it all so very much now.
The bouncers barely registered our presence as we asked to be let inside, although an appreciative whistle did follow us through the doorway. Inside, the Copa was just as murky as I remembered it but that was a comfort given how short my dress had begun to feel now that there were so many eyes about.
We went straight up to the bar and I smiled at the closest bartender, one of three that I could see. I asked for two vodka tonics and we were served with the broadest of smiles, a perfect start to our night inside the shadowy bursa escort club. Debbie looped her arm through mine and we retreated into the darkness to set our drinks on a tall table near the dance-floor. Sitting down, especially on the tall stools that were dotted around the area, was a no-go in the tiny dresses so we stood together and waited tremulously for the first advances.
“I bet the first guy over here asks you for a dance, Dallas,” Debbie said, sipping at her drink.
“No way. You look way too stunning for me to stand a chance.” I genuinely thought that was true and genuinely loved the idea. After all, she was mine when all was said and done.
Debbie shook her head and then pointed to the far side of the room where a guy was being shoved towards us by his friends, “I think we might find out in a minute.”
“That was quick. Whichever one of us it turns out to be, are you sure you’re okay with this?”
She snorted a laugh, “You’re not going to start all that again are you?”
“Me? I thought it was you who started it!”
“Well maybe,” she said, “But at least we’re agreed how it will all end.”
“True. In bed.”
“One hundred percent accurate,” Debbie agreed, “Now give me a kiss before that guy gets here – I remember your condition really well.”
I hugged her and we kissed just as I’d wanted – just as I now wanted more than ever.
The embrace was interrupted by the young guy who coughed politely – remarkably politely for that place, I thought – and asked, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
Debbie found her voice first as we stepped apart, “Of course not. What’s up?”
The guy was far more nervous than he was cute but he was no elephant man. In any case, it seemed like our night of naughty fun was about to start. His stuttered question confirmed it.
“I was just, er, w-w-wondering if you w-w-would like a spin on the dance-floor?”
When Debbie realised the question was aimed at her the look of genuine surprise that came over her face was priceless – and made me feel so good, so great. When she turned towards me with a questioning, disbelieving look on her face I just had to burst out laughing, “Go on my wonderful terror!”
Debbie shrugged, amazingly – and very cutely – blushing, “Well if you really think so?”
I squeezed her shoulder and whispered, “Just remember what we’re here for – and that I adore you.”
She patted my hand, grinning through her blush, “Okay. Let’s see if I can raise more than a smile from him, yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” I said as she spun around from me and headed for the dance floor with the young guy in tow, trying to keep his tongue in mouth.
And so it began.
Two hours later, a little after midnight, we were keeping score – the number of erections we had caused – and were level pegging (so to speak) at nine each. To that point we had done no more than gently bop away to pretty mediocre, middle of the road, poppy tracks. Our skirts had stayed close to our legs with no overt displays of the lack of anything underneath – not that the dim ambient lights in the place would have shown off too much anyway – and none of the young guys had tried to check either of us out in any physical ways. I very much doubt that even a crack CSI squad would have been able to find a fingerprint.
“So,” Debbie suggested as we stood waiting for the inevitable next – but potentially very boring -dance offer, “what do you say to first to ten?”
“Given how dull it’s been I’m tempted to say yes, but that would just mean the next person who gets asked would win. It’s not as if we’re really needing to do much is it?”
“True, I guess. I’m starting to feel almost like I’m dressed properly!”
“Well if it’s any consolation,” I told her, “I think you’re dressed perfectly improperly. Overdressed even.”
Debbie giggled – the vodka was starting to affect her that night – and leaned close, “How about first to thirteen then?”
I shrugged and nodded, “I don’t feel we could be any naughtier and to be absolutely honest, I’m suddenly not that bothered about turning anyone on but you.”
“That’s lovely and I know just how you feel,” she giggled, “In more ways than one. To be honest myself I don’t mind calling the game a draw and getting home to bed with you.”
I was about to agree when two young guys made their presence known with patently faked coughs. I looked at Debbie and mouthed ‘first to thirteen after all?’ When she bit her lip in that gorgeous way she has I nodded and we turned to the fidgeting guys. “Yes?”
“We was just wondering-” one began.
“Were. We were just wondering,” the other interrupted.
“Oh right, yeah, we were just wondering if you two birds wanted-“
“You two young ladies.”
“Oh shut up Chris. But yeah, like, we were wondering if you two young ladies fancied a dance, yeah?”
Debbie was giggling like a woman their age but still had enough to control to answer for us both, “Yes please!”
And so we found bursa escort bayan ourselves choking back laughs as we followed the two guys – English speaker and Essex boy – out to the dance floor. We mouthed ‘ten-all’ at each other and then paused just as the music switched from something vaguely upbeat to a real smoochy, slow number.
“Eleven-all?” Debbie giggled.
“Might be twelve!”
Before our giggles could turn into full-blown hysterics, the partially literate pair pulled us into what they clearly believed were sensuous dance clinches and started to shuffle in circles.
I could feel immediately that my erection score had risen to ten and one glance at Debbie and her guy made it clear that we were still even. The track played by the unseen DJ was mercifully short and Debbie and I were scuttling back – alone – to our drinks without anything more than slightly bruised bellies.
We couldn’t help but laugh, propping each other up, more like schoolgirls than the young adults we really were.
“Nine-and-a-half each?” Debbie suggested.
The laughter turned into full-blown giggles. Hysterics might have followed, but a couple more hopeful young guys appeared at our shoulders with another dance offer. I shrugged a ‘why not?’ at Debbie and we followed the guys out onto the dance-floor where another slow track was echoing around, our laughter barely in check, our spirits shockingly high.
Just three days before I might have actually been rather interested in the guy who spun me into a close embrace as we started to gyrate. He was about my age, fit in both the athletic and the aesthetic senses, a good few centimetres taller than me and had waves of long dark hair that were not the current fashion but which appealed to the old, straight part of me that wasn’t entirely dead yet. His moves, though, were not exactly what I would have welcomed under those old, normal circumstances. Before even a few seconds had passed, and without even letting me know his name, his hands were low on my hips and he was looking down at the front of my dress which even in the relative darkness of the club was offering a pretty revealing view of my admittedly small chest.
“I don’t often see such cute babes in this place,” he told me.
I tried not to hit him and storm off, determined to not spoil any chance of victory in my silly bet with Debbie, “That’s, er, very… nice, thank you.” Just to my right-hand side, Debbie seemed to be having a similar conversation.
“I know,” the already far too presumptuous male went on, “Enough with the chat when there’s such smooth tunes to dance to, right?”
With that the guy pulled me even closer, leaving me in no doubt that I had scored another point already. Unlike many of the guys I’d already danced with he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was sporting a very obvious erection even that quickly. If anything he was determined, it seemed, to let me know it was there. Or rather, that it was happily pressing against my belly. Earlier that night it would have been enough to have me turning away, safe in the knowledge of another point scored but eager to get back to the safety of the drinks and, hopefully very soon, Debbie. My girlfriend, though, was showing no indication that she was ready to break away from her own dance partner just yet and besides, the guy I was now with was apparently determined to keep me out there a little longer.
As we spun slowly around again I felt his hands slide a little lower and a little further around my hips. “Hey,” I said into his ear, “I think that’s far enough.”
“With such a cute ass I don’t agree,” the guy replied easily, “I’ve been watching you for half an hour and I just had to find out whether you were as fit as you looked!”
Before I could stop him, the hands slipped lower and then rose underneath the back of the little dress, cupping my bare butt cheeks, openly fondling.
Just as he was saying something about ‘hey, cute, a thong’ (he didn’t know his fingers were just centimetres away from a totally unclad pussy) I pulled back and swung a flat hand hard against the side of his face.
“Fuck you, speedy!”
I made to reach for Debbie only to find she was already pulling free from her own guy, her own hand swinging at his unprotected and unexpecting face. I paused for a moment, taking the time to push my own guy’s renewed advances back a step or two, and then grabbed my girlfriend’s arm. We marched back to our drinks, both of us casting quick glances behind us to make sure the over-eager former dance partners had got the stinging messages. When it was clear that the guys were hovering together but not following, we stopped by our tall table and faced each other.
“Definitely but definitely eleven each,” I said. “Or do I get two points because he thought I was wearing a thong?”
“If you do then I do as well,” Debbie shook her head. “If only they knew the truth, huh.”
I laughed and closed the bursa sınırsız escort distance between us, “Actually, I’m rather glad my guy didn’t find out.” I kissed her lightly, “And yours, come to that.”
She returned the kiss, “Yeah. Me too now you mention it.”
We kissed again and drew each other close, even closer than the guys’ clinches had been. I felt Debbie’s tongue flicker across my lips and I opened my mouth, seeking out her own tongue with mine. One of her hands now rested in the middle of my back, the other settling over the material of the dress where the guy’s hand had been just a few moments before. My own hands copied the positions eagerly and our hip bones met, our bellies grinding softly together. Our breasts pressed together and even through two layers of dress I could feel her nipples harden against me. The kiss became more eager, our mouths now locked, and I copied my erstwhile dance-partner’s move with my hand, breathing hard into Debbie’s mouth as I found her bare cheek. Her own hand found my own naked butt as I felt her moan into my mouth and our bodies pressed even more tightly together.
This was no longer any form of proof of our love and lust for each other, no show to tell the over-zealous guys that they had never stood a chance anyway. This was a show of what we had become, and what we so desperately wanted.
Right there in the dingy Copa, Debbie’s hand slipped around from my bare ass, her lower body creating enough space between us for her to raise the hem of our dresses just enough at our fronts to let bare lower bellies contact each other, before slipping back to my rear.
The kiss, already so deep and passionate, became more urgent still as I felt the mutual heat of our pussies pressed together. Her hand which had been holding my back, helping to press our upper bodies close slipped higher, into my hair, just as my own did the same to her, the long waves cascading over my wrist and arm.
“Hey! You two cut that the fuck out!”
We started apart as the growling voice yelled at us from somewhere near the bar. Our eyes, though, remained locked even as they widened with the realisation of just how passionate our embrace had become – right there in public.
Debbie started to snort laughter, “Time to leave?”
I nodded, “Somehow I think we might have over-stayed our welcome.”
We downed the last of our drinks as quickly as we could and grabbed our little clutch bags. Debbie paused only to spin round to face the bar and the apparently interested, predominantly male, audience. She gave an expansive wave, blew them all a kiss and then turned and dashed with me to the doors.
Outside we all but collapsed laughing but were vaguely awake and aware enough to know that lingering too long outside the club might not prove to be a great idea given that the place now contained at least a dozen overly interested young men. We linked arms and trotted down the street, heading towards a taxi rank Debbie spotted in the distance.
Our fits of giggles didn’t quieten much even when the one cab there sped away before we could get close enough to hail it, and we sat ourselves on the narrow plastic wedges that had been pinned to the rank’s metal-and-fake glass frame.
“All in all,” Debbie said, “I reckon we ended up about twenty each there.”
“A happy draw then,” I agreed.
She stood up, tapping my arm, looping a silky scarf around it which must have been tangled up with her bag. She waved it at me, “It’s stretching the rules a bit, I know, but I bet I can still win.”
“We’re not going back in there!”
“We don’t have to,” she laughed, “Watch this!”
To my disbelieving giggles, she strode to the edge of the path and pulled her dress up to almost the tops of her thighs, cocking one hip in a look that meant only one thing – look! When a car with a lit taxi sign on its roof appeared at the turn not twenty metres away I was sure that Debbie would let the dress slip back down, but my disbelieving giggles turned to gales of shocked laughter when she maintained her pose until the cab screeched, unsteadily to a halt at the curb.
I hurried over to her as she dived into the back seat and clambered in beside her as she ever-so sweetly gave the driver the address of the lane we were currently living on.
As he pulled away she turned to me and cocked a cheeky eyebrow, “Reckon I win now?”
“I’m not going to check it out from back here, but I guess you just might have done. Terror!”
She settled back in her seat, beaming from ear-to-ear, “Some of us just have it.”
“Yeah, and some of you make sure everyone else knows you have it too!”
For the twentieth time that night we dissolved into fits of laughs and giggles. We were still snorting and chuckling when the driver pulled up at the end of our lane and I paid him for the most amusing ride of my life. Using the back doors as privacy screens, we slid out of the car and stood as demurely as our little dresses allowed until the vehicle pulled – a little reluctantly it seemed – back onto the main road.
“I need a nightcap and then you, as soon as possible,” Debbie told me, “Always assuming you are coming back to mine again tonight?”
“Oh yes and for oh-so many reasons,” I said, and we linked arms once more before trotting the hundred metres back to her parents’ place.
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