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Inside, the room was small, dingy, and smelled like urine. The
peeling wallpaper looked beige, but in the light of the single
dim yellowish bulb, it could have been almost any color. There
were no stalls, just a toilet, a sink, and a paper towel
dispenser. The floor was tiled in alternating squares of black
and white. “Rather like a chess board,” Joan thought, giddily.

Standing with her back to the toilet, Joan unbuttoned her suit
jacket and slid her panties down around her ankles, preparing to
seat herself. “I’m glad the light’s so bad,” she thought, “if I
knew for sure how dirty this thing is, I’d bust before I used
it.”

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Joan felt ill and her knees went weak. “Ohgodohgodohgod!” Her
mind was reeling. “She probably thinks I’m a lesbian or
something,” Joan thought in panic. “I’d better get out of here!”
She rose unsteadily to her feet and stumbled towards the door.
“I think I’ve drank more than I realized,” she thought.
As she stood, she became aware of a growing pressure in her
bladder. “Damn! Shouldn’t have drank so much!” she thought in
frustration. “I’ll never make it home.” She weighed her
embarrassment and discomfort against the steadily increasing
pressure in her bladder. Her bladder won. “One quick pit stop
and them I’m outta here,” she promised herself.
She pushed heavily against the swinging door to the restroom,
catching herself as she staggered against the wall. “I’ve got to
start watching how much I drink,” she thought. “I’m going to get
myself in trouble one of these days.”

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“That’s it!” she realized. There were no men in here! The
groups of two or four at each table were women. Two couples
circled lazily on the small dance floor … women! Joan felt
queasy and she realized her heart was pounding. “Shit! I’ve
been sitting in a gay bar!”

Feeling guilty, as if she were a voyeur, Joan took a quick look
back at the two deviants she had first noticed. Joan’s heart
jumped and she couldn’t breath: the black woman was looking
directly at her. And she was smiling! Out of nervous reflex,
Joan smiled back and then quickly looked away.

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Almost relieved not to be a spectator to any embarrassing scenes,
Joan saw that no one in the crowded little bar seemed to be
paying any attention to the two at the far table. Joan sipped
her drink and laughed to herself. Some people had no sense of
modesty. She paused and tried to focus her thoughts. Something
else was nagging at her. She looked around the bar again, more
carefully. There was something … different. But she couldn’t
put her finger on it.

As she carefully examined the room, she was heartened by the fact
that she had an opportunity to try to think about things without
getting distracted by crude advances from a roomful of men with
more hormones than consideration.

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She grew wetter the more I licked her, her juice was flowing down
onto my face. I didn’t know who was going to orgasm first, but
was we each got closer, we increased our kissing, and sucking,
and licking, and it drove the other on. I couldn’t hold back, I
had been turned on since I had seen her when we were running, so
I had a wonderful orgasm, I could feel my vagina contracting on
her fingers, so I just moaned with delight.

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She left my mouth, and started kissing down my body, across my
breasts, down my stomach, and finally to my pussy. She positioned
her body, so that her pussy was over my face. I took her pussy
lips in my fingers, and spread her open. Her clitoris was hard,
and visible outside it’s little hood. I started licking it, and
she lowered her body to meet my tongue. Ellen spread me open, and
was licking me, and pulling on my ring with her fingers. She
stopped that for a while, and eased two fingers inside my vagina.
She explored me, I could feel her touching me all over inside.

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She laughed
and said “You can sit down Renee” as she peeled off her leotard,
“or you can get out of your wet clothes too”. She was gorgeous, a
thin supple body, high tight breasts, flat stomach, and just a
thin strip of pubic hair not more than an inch wide covering her
pussy. I took her suggestion, and pulled off my running clothes.
As I did, I watched her looking at my body, and I think she liked
what she saw.
We picked up our wet clothes, and hung them on the pack of
her barstools. She was not as tall as me. She moved so fluidly
around the room, she was almost cat-like. When we finished the
juice, she asked if I wanted to stay for breakfast. Well I
wanted to stay period. I was getting so wet, just watching her,
I knew my pussy was showing that I was getting turned on. I said
“I’d love to, but I’d like to shower first.” Ellen said “That’s
a good idea, lets go”, and with that she led me to her bedroom.