She is beautiful and I desire her. She is wearing a tight-fitting tailored shirt, black silky bra evident beneath it. Breasts straining slightly, round and full. Grey pencil skirt and seamed stockings. Purposefully seductive.

Her hair is loose and glossy, falling sometimes over her eyes so that she has to brush it away with her perfectly manicured hand. Her lips are full and tempting. She licks them too often and bites her bottom lip when she tries to stop herself doing something she thinks she might regret later.

We are sitting in a booth in a bar, next to each other. Its lunchtime. All around us businessmen are eating and drinking. Some of them have noticed us and they let their eyes drift over more often than they should. Two stunning young women, flirting but not at ease with each other enough for anyone observing intermittently to be sure what the situation is. Awkward silences at first, revealing that this is our first or second meeting and that we haven’t yet indulged in our desires.

There is a noticeable current between us. We order our drinks and barely touch them when they arrive. Conversation is incidental to our body language as we both try to sense the other’s attraction and signals.

As she tells me about her job, covering the polite basics, I look into her eyes and hold her gaze, nodding occasionally. My eyes wander down to her lips briefly, and then back up to her eyes. Now she’s looking down at my cleavage, my chest glistening slightly with the lotion I applied earlier, with the knowledge that it would excite her.

While she keeps talking, I shift on the bench, turning slightly more towards her. My leg touches hers, and I let my hand drop against her thigh. A small smile of surprise sweeps momentarily across her mouth, interrupting her flow. Before she has the chance to keep talking I tell her that she is beautiful and hold her gaze. She breaks the moment by leaning towards me. The background disappears and we could be alone in space, suspended by nothing and surrounded by nothing. She twists towards me, we’re facing each other, our legs alternating and my hand reaches behind her waist. She brings her hand up behind my neck, into my hair and we both know this is the moment.

Our lips meet in a gentle and lingering kiss, followed by another more intense and firm as our grip on each other tightens. I reach up to hold her neck, hand in her hair, pulling her into me. Our mouths part, tongues soft, exploring, hands starting to caress. I can feel myself getting more aroused and I know she is too. Her thighs squeeze my hand.

We’re aware of chatter around us at nearby tables, prying eyes, but we carry on, kissing, snogging like teenagers for several minutes. Our hands are getting more daring, brushing each others’ breasts, dipping a finger inside a bra, wanting to reach up into panties. But this is a crowded bar in the city and we pull apart, giggling without stopping the caresses and the gazes.

After looking around awkwardly, assessing who’s watching and seeing the slightly embarrassed face of the barman who couldn’t function while we were kissing, we turn back to each other. Nothing is said. We lean in and carry on, this time just kissing and kissing, nibbling each other’s lips and enjoying every second for its pure sensuality. Savouring the limits that the public location has placed upon us.

We both have to go. Get back to our everyday lives. The last minutes are spent whispering what we want to do to each other, and to him, our caresses and kisses tantalizing every person in the bar.

After re-applying our lipstick at the table, we walk out together, hands on each other’s asses, panties sodden in anticipation of next time. We try to ignore the stares but secretly revel in them.

I know that next time, her and I will be naked together and he’ll be watching, tasting, kissing and being completely overwhelmed by the two of us.

A real story shared by a Skirt Club member.

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