The Improbable Dream


my first attempt, please be kind!

* * * * *

I’m not a regular club-goer, never have been and never will be. But once in a while, I get dragged out by the boys for a big social gathering, and off we go to what I’m told is one of the hippest spots in town. I don’t know, I can never tell the difference between the brand new party-zone with the £10 grand speakers in the floor and the outrageous unisex toilets from the dingy unlicensed club somewhere down the back streets of Islington. There comes a point at all these things where the booze and the smoke takes its toll, and you just want to find a nice sofa to sprawl out on and watch the world go by. I developed an ingenious technique, though; wanna hear it? It’s good if you can’t dance, or just don’t want to. You pay your money, you hand your coat in, you get the first round in and when you’ve distributed all the drinks, you grab the first available spot and hang on for dear life for the rest of the night. That way, you get the drinks delivered to you (having got the first round in), there’s a nice quiet place for you to skin up in (and enjoy anything that gets passed your way when your mates show up to return the compliment) and you can watch, letch or even fall asleep if you want to without ever needing to worry if your feet are moving in time with your arms, if they’re even moving at all. But I digress.

Wow, do I digress. Methods for rave avoidance are pretty damn low on the list of things I did that night. Again, I don’t remember the name of the club (Denim, or Russhia, or something like that), nor do I remember getting pissed and dancing like a lunatic. In fact, I’m pretty sure I drove that night, so apart from the spliffs, I was pretty sober. I was just finishing off one of said doobies, sat on a lonely stool on the far edge of the floor, guarding a pile of coats at about three in the morning when something fell on my head.

First, I thought, Okay, this is one of the lads messing with me, so I turned around, pulling whatever it was covering my eyes, off my face. There was no one there. In fact there was no one around. It must have come from above, so I looked up. There didn’t seem to be anyone on the first floor, but up again, on the second floor, there was a girl walking round the top of the room, by the railing.

She was fit, really fit, but then, most of the women in the club were. None of the other women in the club ever stared at me like that before, a smile curving her lips slightly as she ambled further round until she was standing against the far wall, opposite me. With the lights and the smoke and the thumping of the bass, it was hard to concentrate, but there was no mistaking that she was looking at me. And then she definitely waved at me. I couldn’t believe it, I looked around again just in case there was a male model standing behind me with two exotic-looking drinks in his tanned hands. But there was no one there, not unless you counted the middle-aged scouse lunatic with the prison tattoos who was dancing round in tight circles.

I looked back up at her, and found her laughing, a hand demurely covering her mouth. She had brown or red hair (I couldn’t tell from that distance) in pigtails (which, frankly, I can’t get enough of, I love pigtails) and a flowery summer dress, which had buttons up the front and ended halfway to her knees. That was really all that I could tell for the time being, but I stared at her for another long moment before I realised she was laughing again. Then I looked at what I was holding. Black lace panties. There was no mistaking, from the moment I opened my hand, I could tell that this was her underwear. I looked back up to the second floor – she was still giggling. Then she took a step back from the banister and gently raised the front of her skirt.

Well, my mouth fell open, of course it did. Those were definitely her panties I was holding, for there, above me, was a neatly shaven vagina. She lowered it again quickly, a guilty look down at the rest of the punters, who didn’t look like they’d noticed. But then she looked back at me and smiled, nodding her head in the direction of something behind her. I must have raised my eyebrows, or gestured, or something, but she smiled again, and nodded. And then, she turned, flashed her bum at me, and skipped off out of view.

So now what? There I was, standing there with a still-warm pair of panties in my hand, which, let’s not forget, had just been dropped on my head, and waiting for me upstairs was a very fine-looking woman who had just flashed me in front of a club full of people. Well, OK, a club half-full of quite wasted people, but it was the thought that counts. Well, there was no question. I practically dived for the stairs.

The stairway to the second floor wasn’t very easy to find, but spurred on by an active imagination and the pressing need to do the right thing and return the g-string, I managed to locate the “restricted” access to the corporate hospitality area. gaziantep escort ilanları At past three in the morning, I doubted there were any clients to entertain, and found the place deserted. My heart sank. Deserted was no good, I wanted almost deserted, but at least it was a lot quieter up here. And then there she was, over there in the darkest corner. I took a deep breath and headed in that direction.

She was sat on one of three dark sofas, arranged around a small round table with a single dim light. A drink and a packet of cigarettes sat next to the lamp – her face seemed to glow as she lit one up as I approached, big eyes smiling at me as I approached. It turned out her hair was red, I noticed as we looked at each other for a moment. Then, playing it cool, I tossed her underwear onto the sofa next to her.

“You dropped your pants,” I said, hoping it didn’t come out too cheesy. Or uninterested.

She exhaled and laughed, stretching out and arching her back. I noticed two things as she did this – firstly, that two of the five buttons on the front of her dress were undone; and secondly, that her dress had ridden up her hips and I could see, well, almost everything. As I was processing this information, she spoke.

“So I did,” she giggled, “Feel like dropping yours?”

My mouth went dry. “Here?” I managed to croak, knowing instantly how utterly dumb that sounded.

“Uh huh,” she smiled, taking another drag, and glancing around the room, “There’s no one here.”

I looked around too, and she was right. When I looked back, she was still staring at me, one eyebrow raised archly. My hand went to my belt, but then dropped away. “What if someone comes?” I asked lamely.

“With a bit of luck, we both will,” she replied with another laugh, “Come on, whip it out!”

Whilst wondering how I was going to “whip it out” and retain some slight semblance of dignity, my hand again reached for my belt. But then something happened in my head, I don’t know what it was, maybe a light went on or a switch got flicked or something, but suddenly, this wasn’t a big deal. And I decided that if I was going to do this (whatever it turned out to be), I’d do it right.

As I unpulled my T-shirt, she sat back and clapped her hands. “Ooh… go for it baby!” she called, still giggling. As I pulled my shirt off and dropped it on the sofa opposite her, she sat back, and playing idly with the third button on her dress. By the time I had pulled my shoes and socks off, button number three was undone and the amount of cleavage on display had doubled. In fact now I could see the dark shadow of the underside of her breasts. She had also parted her knees slightly, and was playfully rocking them open and closed. I noticed that she bit her lip as I began undoing my jeans, and as I pulled them down past my hips, she stood up and pressed herself to me, moving gently against the now very pronounced bulge in the front of my boxers.

“Do I need to ask?” she whispered as she kissed my neck, her hands in my hair, licking my ear.

“Ask what?” I replied, still very disappointed that I was still talking like an idiot. I slid my hands over her hips as she moved against me, but then she sighed and pulled her head back to look at me.

“Whether you want to fuck?” she said, cocking her head.

“Oh that,” I said, nodding, looking down at the railspike in my shorts, “No, no I don’t think so.” I smiled and hoped all was not lost.

“Good,” she said with a grin. She leaned in and flicked her tongue over my lips, but just as I was about to respond, I felt her put a hand to my chest and give a push, and then I was falling backwards.

I didn’t fall far, the sofa was there, but now I was sprawled out in just my shorts, a raging hard-on poorly concealed within. My indignation didn’t last long – in fact, it barely lasted at all, as she sat back down opposite me and spread her legs.

“Do you like me?” she asked, a hand artlessly moving down from her shoulder to the top of her chest. I nodded, as she pulled the dress to one side to expose a single, perfect breast.

I think I must have said something. With hindsight, I probably looked pretty similar to Keanu Reeves in that scene from The Matrix, where he gives a perfect Californian example of how deliver the line “Woah”. As she ran a finger around her dark nipple, I could see it stiffen and rise a little. As she pulled on it, her other hand moved to her right knee and started a lazy ascent up the inside of her thigh.

“Hey,” she said, nodding at me, “I thought you were going to whip it out?”

At this point, I’d have probably done anything she suggested. Her right hand had reached the top of her thigh, and now, as she spread her legs wider, she glanced down at her exposed pussy and started stroking the neat line of hair at the top of her mound. I realised that I still hadn’t moved, but a little voice in the back of my head suggested I should try to be just a little bit provocative.

Slowly, I reached a hand down to my shorts and cupped the bulge. She obviously liked this, as she gave a low moan and smiled, her fingers trailing further down towards her pussy. She ran a finger up and down her lips as I stroked myself over the material of my shorts, licking her lips as I played with my balls. As I reached under the waistband, she slid a finger into her pussy and almost shuddered with pleasure, closing her eyes and leaning back. Her left hand was still stroking and caressing her breasts, reaching over to scoop the other one out into the open, while her other hand slowly parted her lips and stroked the glistening flesh of her cunt.

My own cock was throbbing, it had been for some time. I could feel cum on the end of my cock already and I rubbed over the head of my cock with my thumb as I reached down to cup my tight balls. Undoing the buttons at the front of my boxers, I took my other hand out and grasping my dick at the base of its shaft, whipped it out.

“Ooh!” she said, that ever-present giggle in her voice, then “Mmmm…” as she took her fingers off her nipples and slid them down to join her other hand. With one set of fingers holding her lips wide, still dipping in and out of her pussy, the other slid up and began massaging her clit. Her face flushed as her fingers worked, her mouth parted and she began to breathe a little heavier. I pulled my balls free of my boxers and began masturbating with her, the head of my cock gleaming as it caught the low light of the lamp. As I stroked, I milked another dewdrop of cum to the surface, and, with what I hoped was an evil grin, wiped it off with my thumb and licked it off. I made the most of it, it was an ideal opportunity to show off my tongue. Call it a gift if you like, but it reaches my nose and most of the way to my chin, and if ever there’s the opportunity to give it a waggle for sexual effect, well – I’m there. It worked a treat this time, as I flicked it out to lap the smear of precum up. She raised an eyebrow and smiled, sliding a second finger into her vagina.

With a hand still working between her legs, she sat up, her breasts swinging out of the dress to hang heavily in front of me. Crawling over the table, she put a hand on my shoulder and straddled me, still fingering herself as she leaned over me. We stared at each other, still playing with ourselves (well, I wasn’t going to stop wanking until she was), her breasts level with my eyes. As she leaned in to kiss me, I slid a hand up her hip, over the dress until I came to her breasts. She had firm, smooth tits, free from surgical enhancements, as far as I could tell, her nipple warm and hard against my palm as I stroked her. Her tongue danced over my lips and teeth, my own darting hungrily in and out of her mouth as we licked each other’s mouths with a lusty abandon. With my eyes closed, I didn’t see her bring her hand to my lips but when she put her fingers in my mouth, I could smell her. We both licked the wetness from her fingers, licking her digits and each other’s tongues. Then I felt her reach down and wrap her hand around my own, which was still stroking the shaft of my cock.

As I took my hand away to let her take over, we both looked down to watch her wank me. She took a firm grip, about two-thirds of the way down, and pulled right down to the base of my cock. As she pulled back up, I groaned, and reached for her pussy. As my fingers moved over the sparse hair of her mound, I felt her pushing against my hand and increase the frequency of her strokes. She was extremely wet, I could tell that instantly, as she’d spread the juices from her cunt all over her lips and clit. Her lips parted under my touch and I slipped a finger part of the way inside her. Here there was more wetness, so I moved my finger around, giving her pussy a second coat. As I fumbled for her clit, I watched her face for signs of success. She was still staring at my cock as she continued to pump her fist hard. But I felt her pause and slow as my fingers brushed the hood of her clit, and as I moved my head in to lick at her nipples, she moaned and her head fell back. She began to move her hips in time with my hand, her free hand, sticky with my cum, moving to pull on the nipple of her free breast. I decided to slide down, raising her hips slightly and sliding down off the couch, until I was propped up on the floor, with her with both hands braced on the back of the sofa, her pussy in front of my face.

I started on the insides of her thighs, kissing and licking and stroking the soft skin as I made my way closer. I could feel her heat on my face and her eyes on the top of my head as I worked my way closer. Still with small kisses, I worked my way up her pussy, kissing her lips from bottom to top, and when I reached the top, bought my tongue into play. I licked down and forward, parting her lips and sucking the juices within. She shuddered, her hips twitching involuntarily, as she bought a hand to the back of my head. She pressed me, guiding me upwards, until my tongue was making small circles on and around her swollen clitoris. She began to move more, her thighs moving tight against my ears, her hand gripping my hair and holding me in place. Despite the fact that her legs were covering my ears, I could hear her moan above me as I licked and sucked her clit. I moved both hands to her hips to try and hold her in place, nightmare scenarios of suffocation or a broken nose running through my brain.

“Uhh…. Yes… Yes… I’m coming… oh!” I could hear above me, so redoubled my efforts, taking a moment now and then to jab my tongue into her cunt, fucking her with it. She shuddered again as she came, a new flood of juices to be licked up.

It was then that I felt a hand close around my cock. At first, I didn’t mind – I thought it was her – but then there were a few seconds of Looney-Tunes style deduction as I figured out that if both her hands were on the back of my head (as they now were), then that meant that a third party had just taken hold of my dick, and was now fondling my testicles.

From where I was, I couldn’t see past her. In fact, it was a struggle just to see her face; I had to lean my head right back onto the cushion of the sofa just to see past her jutting breasts (which looked fantastic, by the way, her excited nipples pointing out over my head). She smiled down at me, a lazy, happy, horny smile on her lips, which disappeared when she saw the panic in my eyes.


I was about to tell her, when suddenly I felt the sharp wetness of a tongue licking the head of my cock. I yelped and jumped, staring up at her more urgently now, fearing the worst, that some pissed-up old man was taking advantage of his homosexual urges.

“Behind you,” I managed to croak, my mouth so recently filled with moisture of several different kinds suddenly dry. She turned around, and with a yelp, leapt off me and onto the couch, pulling her skirt in two directions to cover her nakedness. In front of me, knelt on elbows and knees between my outstretched legs, was a petite blonde girl in blue jeans and a cropped white T-shirt. She was licking my now shrinking penis, her tongue darting out like my cock was melting ice cream. But as my erection began to fade, she looked up at me, pouting. She seemed to be in an advanced state of drunkenness as her makeup as smudged, and she swayed uncertainly. She then looked to the other girl, as did I, who stared back at her with the same amazed expression as I assumed I was wearing.

“Don’t stop,” slurred the blonde, “Please… do you want me to go?”

Well, I wasn’t going to say anything. I was unable to speak, for a start, struck dumb by the bizarreness of the situation. Plus, this little blonde girl would have been very attractive if she hadn’t been quite so shitfaced – of course, if she was any less shitfaced, the likelihood of her being knelt in front of me, trying to suck my cock, would have been much less. The night had been pretty damn exciting already, in terms of sexual adventuring, and there was no way in hell I was going to do anything to jeopardise the prospect of a threesome at this late stage in proceedings. But the main reason I didn’t say anything was that the question hadn’t been addressed to me at all – she had asked the girl.

I turned to look at her. Her expression had changed, confusion softening into consideration. She looked at me, carelessly uncrossing her arms so her dress fell open again, and raised an eyebrow. Both of mine flew up in reply, and I shrugged. She also shrugged, and we both turned back to the blonde.

At this point, word reached my penis that Thunderbirds were once again go. It twitched as the blood began to flood back into it. The blonde girl saw this, and reached a hand out. However, she lost her balance, and toppled onto her side, so that she was now lying completely on the floor, her shoulder resting on my leg. Her fingers gently closed around my still flaccid cock, and began to stroke. As my cock inflated, the girl on the sofa moved closer to me, a hand idly stroking my hair and face as she watched the blonde coax my dick back to a full erection. It didn’t take long, and as she continued to jerk me off, the blonde leaned in to take the head of my cock into her mouth. I closed my eyes and moaned, as I felt her tongue, which had terrified me just minutes ago, darting around the rim of my helmet. I reached out behind me to the other girl, who was on the move. She lifted a leg over my head so that she was sitting behind me, and I could feel her free hand move back behind my head, back to her crotch. I stroked her leg, quite lamely I thought, but I was unable to move. I began to lift my hips to meet the mouth that was now rising and falling on my shaft as she took my whole cock deep into her throat. The redhead, who was caressing my ribs with her bare feet, now snaked a foot out across my belly, her toes playing with my pubic hair. The blonde girl pulled back a little, never taking my penis out of her mouth, as the foot began to probe and push my rigid cock.

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