Briefs No. 02: At the “Who Cares?”

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Many thanks to Lancerlott for his help proofreading this story.

My intent for the “Briefs” series is to write short pieces on whatever scenario that comes to me. -Tricia


Saturday night at the “Who Cares?”, out at the edge of town, is always a wild party. Everyone knows that it’s a time and place where people come and experiment a little, dancing and hooking up with others with no guilt and no repercussions. I’m a regular.

Tonight, I’m taking a break from the dance floor, sipping a whiskey at a high top and enjoying the show. Straights and gays and bis, trans and cis and nongenders, married and single and poly people mix comfortably and vibrate to the deep bass and heavy drum. It’s a glorious sight. My parents would be having seizures watching, but then again, they have seizures all the time when they think about their daughter’s “lifestyle.”

Then I see her come in from the side door. She is hand-in-hand with a tall man who she seems to be very comfortable with. Her husband, I assume. But, she’s in her forties, bottle-blonde with generous breasts and equally generous hips and a less-than-flat stomach. Damn it, she hit all my buttons.

You don’t get to choose what turns you on. Because if I could, I would choose other Latinas like myself, in their 20s, with mocha skin and skinny stomachs.

But that’s not God’s plan for me, apparently, because I always get wet for the middle-aged white women; especially the MILFs. Pillowy soft, dyed hair, and well worn is my kryptonite.

I see one of the waitresses, Gina, go up to them and take their drink orders and I intercept her on her way to the bar, a $20 in my hand. “Let me take them their drinks, Gina, darling.”

She laughs, “I was wondering if you were here, Sarita. She’s definitely your type.” I cringe. Everyone here knows my thing.

“You got me, Gina. Can you let me take them? And add a Jameson’s for me.” I hand her another $20.

I watch as she punches in the drinks and wait for her to come back with them. My Jameson’s, along with what looked like a pair of Patron shots. I like their style.

“If she’s not into you, cara mia,” Gina says, “Find me. You know how I feel about you.”

I surprise her by kissing her on the mouth while I take the drinks from her. “I promise, babe.”

I bring the drinks to the couple and introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Sarita. Gina asked me to bring these to you.” The man starts to take his wallet out of his back pocket and I say, “No, they’re paid for.”

“Really?” She says with a gravelly voice that I hear right down in my cunt. “Who paid for them?”

“I did,” I say without shame. I hold up my drink, “Skoal?” I ask. They nod and we all throw back our drinks.

He speaks, “And why did you pay for our drinks, Señorita?” Uh. Ugh.

I don’t let that show on my face, though. “Because I want to dance with your beautiful wife.”

He seems surprised. “I don’t know…Mel, this seems weird.”

She, Mel?, takes my glass and hands hers and mine to him and says, “Go get us another shot, will you hun? What are you drinking, Sarita?” Oh, bonus points for remembering my name.

“Oh, I’m definitely drinking what you’re drinking.”

“More Patron, then,” and she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the dance floor. I can’t believe my luck. This is going so well! “I’m Melinda,” she yells as we step into the center of the music.

“Nice to meet you, Melinda,” I say and pull her close and start to grind my body on hers. She doesn’t back off at all. She dances well.

Hubby finds us with the drinks and we each take our next shots and throw them down our throats. I shiver with the alcohol hitting my bloodstream and lean forward to kiss my conquest. Her mouth tastes of tequila and her tongue pushes into my mouth, not allowing mine into hers. She’s telling me how it is going to be. I have no complaints.

We break the kiss and her husband is standing there, just watching us. He raises an eyebrow toward Melinda and she looks at me, asking if she should share. “Sorry, no boys for me,” I say.

“Your loss,” she says, then turns to her husband and says something in his ear. I appreciate seeing him walk away.

Coincidentally, Gina is walking by at that moment and I ask for more shots, telling her to put it on my tab. Then I sway back to Melinda as a slow dance starts. She’s wearing a knee-length güvenilir bahis cotton sundress with a halter neck. When I grab her ass to pull her to me, I don’t feel anything under her skirt. Maybe there’s a thong though. But hey, I’m not doing panty inspection, I’m just loving her soft wide ass. Her generous breasts, controlled by an underwire, press into mine, which are unconstrained by anything but my silken blouse.

Her hands are on my ass as well, controlling the dance, and fondling me at the same time. Our mouths come together again and once more she denies my tongue entrance. Instead she bites my lips almost enough to draw blood, making my knees weak. Then her tongue forces into my mouth, swirling around my own tongue in a way I’d never felt before. I don’t know what she’s doing, but I love it. Then I feel her lifting the back of my skirt and her hands are now resting on my cotton briefs. I feel her hands slide into them, her hot hands on my skinny ass.

We grind into each other as the beat intensifies. She pushes her thigh between mine, demanding that I rub my crotch against her leg. I am not the sort of girl to turn down that kind of opportunity. When the song ends, before the next really gets going, Gina appears next to us. “You girls as so hot,” she says holding out her tray with four shots. I take the first and shoot it, then pull her forward and kiss her open mouth. Then I watch as Mel does the same.

Watching her kiss Gina only makes me hotter. Mel and I take our second shot and shoot them, this time kissing each other. I have the vague feeling of Gina walking away, disappointed. I would feel bad for her if I weren’t feeling so hot for Mel.

Then we lose ourselves in the music and find our rhythm. She dances away from me and comes around, up against me from behind. I push my ass into her lap, enjoying the pillow of her breasts and belly up against my back. She reaches back underneath my dress and takes the sides of my panties, pulling them down my thighs. My top half is flowing with the music while my legs are constrained as she guides the damp cotton over my knees and then over my heels, one at a time. She grabs my hips and pulls me back against her. I have no clue where my briefs are.

I try to turn around, but she stops me, her hands on my hips holding me facing away from her. I feel the bite of her teeth on my neck and I shiver. Then she whispers, “I can’t wait to taste you. But only after you taste me first.” I usually take the initiative in relationships, but I can see that that isn’t happening here.

Her hands slide up my side and then to my chest, her touch burning through my thin blouse. Her hands cup my tits. She catches my nipples between her outstretched fingers, clamping them, squeezing them hard, harder. It hurts so damn good.

“Oh, Sarita,” she says from behind me. “I want you. I want to own you. I want to make you mine.” Those are words that I am more likely to say than hear. My cunt is tingling. I feel so wet I wouldn’t be surprised if I was dripping on the floor. But there’s more.

She moves to the bottom button on my blouse. I try to help her, but she slaps my hands away. While we continue to dance, she works up the three buttons, opening them, and pulls back the cloth, leaving my tits totally exposed. She cups my breasts again, and I feel like there’s electricity flowing from her hands into me. I shiver. My nipples are like diamonds.

I’m hardly the only one showing flesh on the dance floor. This is the “Who Cares?” and sex on the dance floor is not at all uncommon. Over closer to the band is a woman dancing with two bare cocks in her hands, the attached men following her lead in a trance. There are at least four women dancing bare-chested and a man and woman dancing wearing only shoes over closer to the bar.

“Come home with me,” I turn my head to say to her.

“I can’t,” she says. “Darren. It’s not in the rules. You can come home with us…”

“No, no boys,” I say sadly.

One of Mel’s hands slides down my belly, to the front of my skirt, pushing it against my vulva. I feel the cotton wick up my juices, making my skirt stick to my skin. I feel her fingers touch my bean through the cloth. I groan. “Oh, God, yes, please.” I groan.

“You want me to make you cum, Sarita? You want it?”

“Yes, please. Yes. Yes. Please,” are all the words I have.

“I’m türkçe bahis old enough to be your mother, you know?”

Her words whip me like a live wire. “Oh, God! Please!”

“Mommy comes first,” she giggled.

“Fuck yes, Mommy, let me make you come!” I’ve never played like this before. I’ve never called anyone Mommy before for that matter. My own madre was mamá to me. And I would never think of mamá like this.

I wriggle out of her grasp and turn around, dropping to my knees, my hands starting to slide up her dress. But she stops me. “No babygirl, not here.” She pulls me to my feet and toward the door, winding our way through the writhing bodies.

As we get closer to the door, we pass Gina carrying empties back to the bar on a tray. Mel puts out a hand to stop her. I am a little shocked that the hand is on Gina’s breast. I am more shocked that Gina isn’t complaining. I see something bright orange on Gina’s tray. Oh God, my panties. Where has Mel been holding them.

I hear Mel saying something that ends with “10 minutes.” Gina looks at me with big round eyes.

We hit the cool night air and my nipples harden even more. How’s that possible? Mel pulls me away from the lights at the door into the parking lot. I have no idea whose car she leads me to; maybe hers? “Who am I?” she asks, before bending to take my left nipple in her mouth.

“Mommy,” I breathe.

“What’s that?” she says while switching nipples.

“Mommy,” I say louder.

“What are you going to do, babygirl?”

“Make you cum, Mommy.”

“How, baby?”

“However you want, Mommy.”

“Do you want to put your face in Mommy’s hairy cunt and lick me?”

“Oh, yes, Mommy. Please, Mommy.”

She gracefully lifts herself to the hood of the car, sweeping her dress out of the way and spreads for me. I take her in: the cellulite in her soft thighs; the wild thatch of hair on her pussy; her pink clit, engorged with her need; the hunger in her eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Mommy,” I say.

From three feet away I can smell her pussy’s perfume. It draws me in like a fish to a lure. My tongue is in her all at once. Lapping up her juices. My hands come up and my fingers caress her labia on either side. “Oh, babygirl,” I hear her say. Her fingers grab bunches of my long black hair. She pulls me tighter to her.

I could lick her like this for hours. It would be heaven to me, but I want to make her cum so badly. I grab the base of her clit with my thumb and forefinger and then take what’s left in my mouth. She starts writhing, the car starts shaking and then she cums, shaking and squirming and cunt pulsing and quivering. She calls out into the night, something unintelligible. Her thighs squeeze me, her vagina squeezes my tongue even more.

When her thighs loosen enough, I look up at her, wanting to see her face, wanting her to see my face covered in her. She looks so beautiful.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her husband with his hard dick out, stroking it. “No boys,” I say to Melinda who’s suddenly not Mommy.

She looks back at me, reassures me. “He won’t touch you. More, babygirl, more!”

“Yes, Mommy.” My head goes back down, my left hand comes up, folded into a fist. My tongue returns to her clit, while my fist pushes against her opening. Slowly I push into her, going a little faster when she shivers in pleasure.

“What are you doing, baby. Mommy likes it.”

I look up, she is propped up on her elbows, but her head is lolling back, reveling. “I’m gonna put my whole hand in you, Mommy,” I say.

“Oh, Jesus,” she groans. “No one has ever…” She stops when I push forward harder, getting three quarters of my hand in her. “Oh, Jesus, Jesus. Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

My hand is fully into her now. I lift my head up again. “Look, Mommy, see what I’ve done.”

She tries to come up so she can see. I grab her hand with my free one and pull her up. “Oh Jesus,” she says when she sees my wrist coming out of her cunt. “Oh, Jesus. So big. So fucking full.” She meets my eyes.

I begin to push my fist deeper into her, then pull it back. In and back. In and back. I hold her eyes with mine and see the wonder in her face, the waves of pleasure she’s experiencing. “I’m going to cum, babygirl. I’m going to fucking cum. I’m going to fucking cum on your fucking fist, babygirl.”

“Cum, Mommy. Yes, cum.” güvenilir bahis siteleri I say.

And she does. Loudly. Groaning into the air like she not in the middle of a parking lot outside the “Who Cares?”, like she was in her own bedroom. I hear a smattering of applause — this isn’t unusual here any more than my bare tits were inside. Then I see a burst of white, hitting the side of the car. Darren has cum too. I edge away from it.

“Oooooh,” Melinda says as I pull out of her.

I lift my hand and spread my fingers, strands of thick fluid pulling between them. I lick the back of my hand while I look Mel in the eye, smiling. “Want to share, Mommy?”

“I want to share,” Gina says from slightly behind me.

“Look, babygirl,” Mel laughs, “your friend is here to play.”

My mouth hangs open a little as Gina and Melinda each grab my wrist and hold it while they lick Melinda’s pussy juices off my hand.

Suddenly I remember how horny I am; how much I need to cum.

And just as suddenly, Melinda is off the hood of the car and is lifting me on to it. She pushes me back and then pushes my legs apart. “Oh, babygirl, I knew you would be bald down here.” Then her fingers are in me, fucking me slowly, making me moan in frustration. “Gina, darling, why don’t you let baby play with your toys.”

I guess Gina understands what that means better than I do, because Gina climbs up on the hood, no doubt flashing everyone in her short waitress skirt. Melinda picks up the pace a little and Gina is kneeling over my face, without anything between me and her smooth-shaved cunt. Then she lowers herself onto my mouth and starts to rock back and forth.

Gina and I have been flirting something wicked since we met almost a year ago, but we’d never fucked. It’s been clear she had the hots for me more than I had the hots for her. And she did have a boyfriend about half the time I knew her. But having her wide-open pussy sliding back and forth over my mouth was like guaranteed to make me want her. And as she reaches down to play with my tits, I wanted her more and more.

Melinda moves to bring her mouth to my cunt. I groan in pleasure, but only Gina’s ovaries can hear it. Gina stops moving for a moment and I feel her body convulse with an orgasm, her pussy quivering on my face. I reach up and can just barely cup her breasts in my hands, encouraging her to keep going. I don’t think she needs the motivation.

Then I start cumming. It rolls over me like the waves from a stone dropped into a pond. My clit is where the stone dropped and the waves run out from it bringing me pleasure and release. I treat Gina’s ovaries to more moaning and swearing and calling out “Mommy.”

Melinda’s lips move to my clitoris, her fingers curl up in my pussy, pushing against that spot. That wonderful spot. Her body is pushing up against me and then falling back and I have no idea why she’s doing that, but I don’t really care much. All I care about it Gina’s delicious cunt on top of me and Melinda’s mouth on my clit and fingers in my cunt.

And I cum again, my body shaking in pleasure, which kicks off another orgasm from Gina. Melinda is suddenly heavy against me, and it’s kinda weird.

Gina sort of rolls off me and I look down at Melinda. Standing behind her is her husband, out of breath and smiling. The fucker was fucking Mel the whole time. I said no boys.

I sit up and pull Melinda up and kiss her. “This was fun, Mommy, but not with your husband playing too.” I start to button my blouse. “If you ever want to play house just the two… or three of us,” I swing my finger around indicating her, Gina, and I, “come find me here.”

Then I get off the car, grab Gina’s hand and pull her back to the bar, casting a dismissive glance at Darren’s limp and shiny cock as we go by.

When we get to the door, I push Gina up against the wall and kiss her, opened mouth, both of us getting into it. She starts to grind against me but I pull back. “Don’t you have to work, cara mia?”

“This is my break. And Annie’s covering for me.”

“What’s Annie getting out of it?”

“The full story, with details,” she laughs.

I smile too. “You know where I live, right?”

“Come home to me after you close.”

“I’ll be there.” She laughs and lifts her skirt, “With panties off.”

I kiss her again. “I’ll see you then.” I start to head for where my purse is stashed. But I stop and look back at her. “Annie like girls too?”

Gina laughed again. I was starting to really like that laugh. “I think she does but hasn’t done it yet.”

“Then bring her along too.”

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