Deanna has fond memories of what went on that night in the bathroom.
Deana had to piss. The bathroom at the bar she frequented with her friends had the cleanest bathrooms of any bar she had ever been to. She still had been freaked out ever since she had seen a show about germs and microorganisms on the Discovery channel. She stood bent over the toilet with the stall door closed performing her ritual. First the tissue, always labeled as having been provided by the management. She greatly appreciated this and carefully positioned it to cover the seat. She also tore the center out and placed it on top of the water to reduce the chances of any splashing. Next was the layer of toilet paper. She tore off several chunks three squares long and carefully laid each of them to cover the too-thin tissue and slightly drape over the edges. Once the throne was properly fit for a queen she pulled her pants and thong down to her knees and sat to relieve herself.
She had been drinking beer with her girlfriend for about two hours now, catching up on some gossip and, as the night wore on, talking about the general lack of satisfaction in regard to their sex lives. As soon as the torrent of filtered beer subsided she grabbed one last wad of toilet paper and wiped. The bathroom door opened and she heard the voice of a guy asking if anyone was in there.
“Let me check,” the voice of a girl said.
Deanna always used the handicap stall if no one was around, as it is typically cleaner than the others. The layout of the bathroom put this one across from two other stalls with her toilet in the back corner. She heard the girl moving around as if checking under the stall doors.
“No one is here, put up the sign,” the girl said.
Deanna heard some movement and the main door opened and shut twice. The girl had also opened one of the stall doors and she heard some noises –possibly the shuffle of removing her clothes. She heard the guy move across to the stall.
“Come here you hot little bitch, bend over the toilet,” the guy said.
Deanna heard the crisp slap as it reverberated around the room and the girl squealed –a tiny peep of delight. She couldn’t believe she was stuck in the bathroom with this horny couple. She remained perfectly still, listening, not wanting to endure the embarrassment of having to face them.
“Oh babe,” he said in that very special tone confirming Deana’s predicament.
The girl began to moan, making it clear she was enjoying herself, and the slapping sounds quickened. Deanna was now picturing what she couldn’t see. She became aware that she was herself in an aroused state. As the pace quickened again she imagined the last time a guy had gone into the fast paced action –what she referred to as the jackrabbit routine –on her. She only liked it once she was very horny and about ready to come, if attempted at the wrong moment it became an episode of enduring the pain until it was over. One of her old boyfriends just loved to do it that way, and she always remembered the best time. They were drunk and in his King size bed and she just lifted her legs up and grabbed her ankles. The only time they touched, other than the intercourse, was when he finished the stroke inside her and their legs would meet for an instant, slapping. It turned her on to feel him sliding in and out, like a jackrabbit, until her orgasm overcame her.
“Yes, yes,” the girl said over and over, now panting.
Deanna imagined what it would be like to bend over the toilet to be taken from behind. She still hadn’t moved a muscle, but they were making so much noise they wouldn’t hear her she thought. She pulled up her pants quietly and moved to the door. She listened carefully for any change of pace as she opened the stall door. She could not stop her voyeuristic urge and ignored her chance to flee. The passion of the two lovers, their moans, and building orgasms –was a big thrill for Deanna to spy on. She was now half way between her stall and her goal, creeping closer to peek in the unlocked door that hung open an inch. She peeked in the crack. The girl’s hand was on the back wall in the corner and Deanna could see her large breast flopping with his rhythm. His hand was planted on her hip pulling her back with each stroke and she was pushing off the back wall to meet him with each thrust. The sound emanating from within the stall kept them oblivious to their audience.
Three minutes ago she was talking with her friend about sex and now she was spying on another couple doing it. Deanna felt her nipples tauten. She brushed across her shirt lightly to stimulate her right nipple moving in as close as she dared. Deanna felt the warm sensation, caused by increased blood flow, between her thighs and squeezed them together. Many years ago, she had come to enjoy the technique of clasping her thighs together and ever so slightly moving one knee up and back to stimulate her clitoris and let her lips slide together as they became wet. It was now second nature and she found herself doing it with exaggerated strokes. Her pussy moistened and she enjoyed the slippery feeling knowing she would have to get out soon or risk being caught.
The tiny triangular patch of material covering her pussy was growing wetter by the moment as was her need to get out before they caught her watching. The guy’s breathing pattern changed and the strokes became slower.
“I am going to come,” the girl said. Her breathless words were followed by light moaning as if she were holding her sounds back to avoid attention.
The guy picked up the pace again and he too, she could tell by the sounds he was making, was about to finish. Deanna stood still unable to pull herself away and get out of the bathroom. The door to the stall slammed shut.
Deanna almost screamed. The noise and motion had shocked her.
“What was that?” the girl asked, the action had stopped.
“I just hit my elbow on the door,” the guy said.
Deanna was relieved, but now the door had shut most of the way. It had shuddered for a couple seconds after he bumped it and since they were back at it she decided they might not notice. She moved right up to the crack and pushed it open with as little pressure as she could hoping it wouldn’t squeak. It opened up an inch and then two, she could see the girl now, going at it again, forcing her ass back with each stroke. The guy was holding on to both hips and being taken for as much a ride as he was giving her. He had short black hair and sweat was forming in beads on the back of his neck and the side of his face. She now recognized them as a couple who had been sitting at the corner table.
Deanna saw his face curl up as if in pain: mouth open, lips curled open, nose scrunched up, and moaning. He reached down and grabbed his dick as he hauled it out of her. He stroked it, glistening from her vagina, and aimed it toward her.
“Baby, I’m coming, turn around,” he said.
The girl turned and knelt and was obviously having trouble with the tight space. She now squatted and had only turned half way around leaning back on the side of the stall, the side toward Deanna and the small opening. She now had a better view. The girl’s long hair was covering the side of her face. Her mouth was open and she stuck her tongue out to catch his load. Deanna was now enthralled with the scene. The guy, bracing himself with his hand high above her on the side wall, moved his cock to her mouth and stroked it. Once aimed, his head tilted back and his eyes clinched shut. The girl had her eyes closed waiting for his stringy sperm to shoot across her face and possibly end up in her eyes. She had her tongue stuck out sloping down to offer the largest possible target. Their eyes were shut and they wouldn’t see, she thought. Deanna pushed the door open a little further to see his cock better, knowing she had to leave, not wanting to miss the end.
Deanna could now see him stroking slowly pointed right at her nose. His balls were tight and sucked up to the base of his cock. The skin covering his penis slid up and down with each stroke, scrunching up at the head where he squeezed a little harder and held it for a split second at the end of each stroke. He was performing his own secret ritual, of coaxing out the come, which no one was supposed to witness. The first burst of semen covered the girl’s nostrils and some ran off her upper lip to fall onto her tongue. The girl, eyes still shut and not wanting to breathe his essence, lifted herself up to make sure the next in the barrage targeted her mouth as planned. It was lined up perfect and Deanna watched the thick rope disappear –shot directly toward the back of her throat. The girl now pulled her tongue back in her mouth to push his load spitting it out. The sloppy wet sound made as she opened her mouth back up just in time for the next shot was accentuated by the white substance sliding off her tongue, now outstretched again.
With the orgasm in full force, the guy now bent over a little, his hand slipping up and to one side on the stall caused him to lean in and lose his target. He grunted this time. Deanna watched as the come wrapped around the corner of her mouth, some in and most out on her cheek. The bulk of the load had hit right at the edge of her mouth. Thick and sticky a small amount deposited there would have fixed itself firmly, but shot out with passion it splashed into itself dislodging most of the slurry. Some spread up the cheek to stick in place and some shooting off in a droplet toward Deanna. The white airborne glob arced through the air and landed next to her face. Inches away it had caught and stuck on the edge of the stall. She looked at it, smaller than a dime, and she had the urge to taste it if not for all the germs on the stall. She looked back at the mess. The girl kept rhythm with his load, spitting out in between the shots as if trying to scrape out peanut butter stuck to the roof of her mouth. It was clear why the girl shut her eyes, half her cheek was wet as the come was succumbing to the force of gravity spreading down her face. Her tongue now flicked at the tip of his penis to lick up the last bit oozing out of his pee hole. Deanna knew it was time to go.
Her pussy was wet and her brain was screaming at her to get out –or get caught. She watched the come drip off the girls tongue as the guy let out a final sigh signaling he was done. That was it, now he had opened his eyes and smiled at the mess he made on the girls face. Deanna still stood frozen, inspecting the girl’s face, unable to pull away. The guy let his dick go, turned, and leaned back on the stall door slamming it shut again. The spell was finally broken and Deanna scooted off toward the door with the image of come dripping off the girl’s mouth burned into her memory.
She opened the door and almost tripped over the sign in her rush. They had placed the cleaning in progress sign for their quickie. She let the door close ever so slowly but it still made a noise as it shut. Deanna moved quickly down the hallway back into the bar and then, as casually as she could, went back to her friends table.
“You are not going to believe what just happened,” Deanna said.
“They ran out of toilet paper and you had to run in the little boy’s room?” her friend guessed as she chuckled.
“Ha, O.K. Brittany, look over my shoulder at the bathroom and see if the girl that comes out with the guy is still wiping the come off her face,” Deanna said.
Brittany’s mouth fell open and the joking smile was replaced with a look of disbelief. She saw a girl walk out of the bathroom hallway with a guy right behind her. They walked over to their table and as they were sitting the guy reached under the girl’s skirt and grabbed her ass. Brittany could see when the skirt flipped up that she had no panties on. The girl didn’t even flinch, but instead gave him a knowing smile and licked her lips.
“No way,” Brittany said, looking back at Deanna, “what did you see?”
Deanna ordered another round from the passing waitress and shared all the details. It took her fifteen minutes with all the interruptions and incredulous comments to get through the story. Deanna set the empty 23 ouncer down just as she finished her story.
“I am so horny,” Deanna admitted, “and so drunk I will do the first person that asks me tonight.”
“Do you still think about that fantasy we talked about before?” Brittany asked. She now wore a serious look on her face.
The question referred to one night when Deanna and Brittany were sloshed, and in a lustful mood, Deanna admitted that she fantasized about a woman. Brittany revealed that she had been with a woman before and would be willing to let her friend experiment –as long as it was just for fun to try it out. They had not talked about it since. Deanna was not sure if Brittany had been so drunk that she did not remember, but she was just too embarrassed to ever bring it up, not being sure if she could go through with it, even though she was curious.
Deanna had thought about the proposition at great length and decided against it, not because she didn’t want to experience another woman, rather, she didn’t want things to get weird with her best friend. Her fantasy had actually taken a turn and she had been imagining that Brittany was that other woman. She had masturbated herself to orgasm a handful of times thinking of the experiment with her friend that she now pondered under intoxication. A small smile appeared on Brittany’s lips, more pronounced on one side, as she watched Deanna considering the question.
“Brittany, I don’t think now is a good time to make this decision, we have both been drinking a lot,” Deanna said.
Brittany’s expression turned from an eager lustful look to one of hurt feelings. Deanna wanted to take back what she said and she could now see her friend really did want to do it. Deanna had not been sure if she was only offering herself up, as a friend not repulsed with the idea, so Deanna would have a chance at the experience too. Brittany got up and started to head toward the bathroom. Deanna couldn’t tell if Brittany was going to cry or just wanted to abruptly halt the conversation. She grabbed her by the arm.
“Brit, I want to I am just not sure what will happen to our friendship.”
Brittany stopped just short of pulling from her friends grasp and turned back. “You’re right Deanna. I shouldn’t be pressuring you when we’re drunk” She moved back to her seat.
“I just don’t know what to do,” Deanna said, “it’s all so weird, I don’t know how to do this, but I think I want to.”
Brittany leaned in and said, “Deanna, I am sorry, just give me a little kiss –something to think about but we won’t go any further right now.”
Deanna felt her juices flow instantly, and leaned in. Her legs pressed closer together and she slightly bounced her knee up and down. She closed her eyes, tilted her head, parted her lips, and readied her tongue to pounce. With her eyes shut her other senses took a more dominant role. The sound of the music being partially blocked from her friend’s direction and extra heat radiating on her face let her know when her friend’s mouth was nearing hers. As Brittany’s lips touched hers Deanna snaked out her tongue to taste. The wine on Brittany’s lips was in stark contrast to the beer she had been drinking. The white zinfandel tasted sweet and her mouth watered lubricating Brittany’s coarse taste buds that were rubbing on her tongue. Their lips parted but quickly regained contact for one final lusty peck. As she leaned back into her seat she opened her eyes and it was as if the music and lights were turned back on because during the kiss only taste, smell and the sense of touch fell upon her consciousness.
Deanna was silent, staring at Brittany. Brittany had also sat back in her chair and gazing through Deanna she bit her lower lip and slowly pulled it out as if the pain would help her enjoy and cherish the moment. Her upper lip curled up on both sides until, finally, the intense facial expression wandered away. Deanna just stared at Brittany replaying the kiss in her mind and rocking her moistened lips together with the motion of her knee.
It was a full sixty seconds before Brittany finally moved. She giggled aloud with joy and reached for her wine glass to finish it off in one large gulp. She now looked at Deanna.
“Wow, that was intense,” Brittany said. She smiled –as a friend.
Deanna now sat silent, horny.
“You know,” Brittany said, “I once read in a magazine, this article about how guys and girls behave differently with regard to sexual propositions.” She turned and motioned the waitress for another round.
Deanna watched Brittany’s lips as she spoke. She was having trouble focusing what she was saying.
“A group of college students supposedly did a scientific study of how each sex responds.”
Deanna needed to tell Brittany how much she wanted more.
“So the guys in the group each sought out 100 females to ask if they would be willing to have sex.”
Deanna yearned to caress Brittany and kiss her arm. She was now admiring the smooth skin, watching her animated arms as Brittany spoke.
“Two percent of the girls said yes,” Deanna said starting to speak slower as she looked more closely at Deanna, “then the girls asked guys the same question.”
“Would you be willing to have sex with me?” Deanna asked.
“That is exactly what they said,” Brittany said.
“I really want you right now,” Deanna said.
Brittany now realized what she meant. “You were right Deanna, it isn’t fair to ask you after all these drinks, but I have an idea for you if you want to unleash some of your horny energy.”
“Well, back to the article, it has to do with the results the girls got. Asking the same question, they got seventy percent of the guys to say yes,” Deanna said pausing for it to sink in, “and further review showed that another twenty percent would have said yes but they thought it was a trick of some sort.”
“You want me to ask one hundred guys to have sex?” Deanna asked.
“You only have to ask two, and that is if by some remote chance the first says no, you can re-enact the little bathroom scene you witnessed with that guy right over there, all you have to do is ask him.” She was pointing to a guy sitting at the bar.
Deanna looked over at the guy, he was cute, but not exactly her type. Her earlier comment ruined her chance with Brittany she now figured. “You do him, I will watch again –and guard the door,” Deanna said. The thought crossed her mind how horny she was going to be after watching twice and not getting some action of her own.
A sly smile crossed Brittany’s lips, “What if we take turns?”
“No sloppy seconds for me,” Deanna said as she winked, now coming to accept the idea as a good one, “I will go first.”
“If you ask him,” Brittany said, daring her friend.
The waitress arrived with another giant beer and glass of wine.
“What is that guy drinking?” Deanna asked the waitress pointing at the guy Brittany had chosen.
The waitress looked over to see who she was pointing at and said, “He’s drinking Molson Export, I think he’s from Canada or something.”
“I will buy him a round and tell him he can sit with us if he would like some company,” Deanna said.
The waitress looked Deanna up and down and then over at Brittany and smiled. She looked back at Deanna and said, “O.K., this going to be his lucky night?”
Deanna watched the waitress head back behind the bar, grab a bottle, and take it to the guy. She leaned up on the counter to speak with him resting on her crossed arms. She then leaned up on one arm and with the other pointed over at Deanna and Brittany. The guy turned to meet Deanna’s gaze. A smile crossed his lips as he picked up the beer and headed over to their table.
He walked a little awkwardly, probably nervous he was being watched, and pulled up a stool next to theirs. “How are you ladies doing this evening? I’m Rich,” he said.
“That’s your name or your financial state?” Brittany asked with a smirk on her face.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to play it safe and say it’s my name,” Rich said smiling back at Brittany.
“Rich,” Deanna said, “I was in the bathroom about a half hour ago when this guy and girl, the ones left about twenty minutes ago that were sitting over there, came in and started fucking in the stall after failing to notice I was present.”
Rich had a growing smile on his face and simply sat there dumbstruck.
“Before I got out without them noticing, I peeked through the door and watched them having sex, she was bent over the toilet and getting it from behind you see, and with all the drinks my friend and I have consumed, and our horny state of mind, we were wondering if you would like to go into the bathroom with us so we could take turns with you.”
Rich almost swallowed his tongue as he tried to calmly take a swig of his beer. “Uh huh,” was all he managed to say.
Deanna took one last pull of her beer taking it down halfway and set it on the table. She got up from her stool, reached for Rich’s hand, and led him toward the bathroom. After they got to the door she looked back to see if Brittany had followed them, she was a few feet behind him.
“Keep everyone out, see if you can find that sign, then you can watch,” Deanna said. She was surprised by her boldness, but knew she was far too drunk to stop her horny urges at this point. She was emboldened with how this guy was following her lead like a lost puppy dog. She would take control, get exactly what she wanted, using this guy for sex, and he wouldn’t even care, she thought, as she decided he would go down on her.
She walked over to the sink and turned, leaning back on it she undid her jeans. “Take your cock out of your pants, I want to see it,” Deanna said. She was going to make him lick her pussy before he gave it to her.
Rich unzipped his pants and put his hand in to fish out his cock past his underwear. He fiddled and bent over struggling to pull it out, he was already hard and it stood straight up. It was hard to tell how long it was with the base covered. The thick ridge around his head –the rim of the fireman’s helmet they called it, she chuckled to herself as she smiled at the thought –was the widest part and looked as though she would have trouble squeezing it into her mouth. She was never all that good at blowjobs, but found most guys happy that she was willing to try.
“I want you to lick me first,” Deanna said as she pulled her pants to her knees and jumped up on the counter between the two sinks. The tile was cold on her ass and sent goose bumps all over the skin on her legs. She leaned her head back to the mirror and reached her hands down to spread her pussy open for him. She pushed her knees apart as far as they would go with the jeans holding them back still draped around her knees. She had aroused herself to dripping wet several times already and was now feeling very powerful making this guy slop up all her pussy cream. She kept her pubic hair trimmed short and formed in a neat triangle that was perfectly covered by her thong. The juices had built up all along the ridge of her lips. What passed the outer lips had been soaked up by her thong, visibly darker in the center, but a small reservoir of the cream had managed to form on her inner lips now glistening as she pried her outer lips apart. She looked down and could see her hot pink insides on display for Rich. This guy just didn’t know what to do she thought as she watched him just staring in awe between her legs.
“Put your face between my legs and lick my pussy like you are painting a fence with your tongue,” Deanna said almost not believing the words were coming out of her mouth.
Rich knelt down on the floor in front of her and realized he would not be able to reach her in a comfortable position. She was just slightly too high. He stood back up, she could see his cock pulsing with his heartbeat, straining as if trying to touch his stomach, and the skin was tight and shiny –too much meat and not enough skin –she thought. Little did that matter to her now, her preference for the uncircumcised.
He finally bent down and stuck his tongue on her pussy. She moaned. Her desire that evening had made her pussy drip for an hour. The desire was going to be tamed. His tongue was thrashing about from side to side all over her clit. This felt good, of course, but she preferred it when each stroke started inside her pussy and ended at her clit.
“Paint the fence,” she said.
She saw that he finally got it, that she was asking for exactly what she wanted. He was now taking long strokes. He made his tongue in a wide shape, rather than to a point, and twisted his whole head back with each upward motion. She was feeling all the pent up energy rushing out, she kicked at her pants to get them to her ankles and then tried to pull an ankle out. She wound up bumping him off his goal.
“Pull my pants off.”
Rich stood up and grabbed her pants at the crotch and pulled them down, the legs turned inside out and as they stretched to the end she slid off the counter. Her hands slammed down into the sinks on each side just in time so she didn’t fall to the floor. She pulled herself back up and he grabbed each ankle to pull the material past each sock more carefully. Once he had the pants off, he grabbed her thong and pulled it from each pant leg. Deanna moved back to the same position now able to spread her legs open freely. He stuffed the wet thong in his pocket as he put his face back between her legs.
“They are yours if you make me come, give that fence a nice juicy coat.”
He exaggerated the painting motion and made firm strokes from as far down as he could reach to up past her clit, licking all the way through her pubic hair. Deanna felt like she was controlling her own sex robot the way this guy was licking her. It had taken months before to train a boyfriend. She wanted to feel that tongue all over. She pulled her knees up as high as she could and spread open as wide as she ever had for a man. He could now lick starting with the crack of her ass if he wanted to. No longer having to struggle to reach his tongue as low as he could, he now, with each stroke, planted his tongue right on her perineum and slathered his way across her entire slit passing over her neat pubic tuft. She was thrusting and twisting her pelvis with each of his strokes. He was slowing it down, trying to string out the feeling.
“Faster, don’t slow down” Deanna said.
Rich renewed his pace and shortened his stroke. He also moved a little to each side on subsequent passes. He was coating a good square foot of her flesh with his saliva which had now flowed enough to make her entire area between her legs cool from evaporation and raw from his tongue painting her sensitive skin. She was so close to orgasm now, the little discomfort was easily overcome by the wanton desire. Each time he went to the side he would slide right next to her ass, but when he went dead center, every time expecting him to hit it, he would start right in just above on her perineum. She felt teased and tried to twist her ass up each pass so he would hit it accidentally and push her over the edge.
“Please lick my ass too,” Deanna said remembering her power over him.
The very next stroke, without delay, his tongue passed squarely over the tight ring of muscle. Her sphincter, from the stimulation, clasped tightly, using the same muscle worked in the kegal exercise that caused a pussy to milk a dick. The involuntary response to the stimulus triggered an indescribable sixth sense in her mind, the sense that focused and homed in on an inrushing orgasm, the sense that penetrated through and dulled out all other senses, the sense that once that catalyst was present moved forward toward completion like a chemical reaction of oxygen and ether exploding from a tiny spark of heat.
Rich kept licking Deanna, ass to clit, as fast as he could. Deanna began moaning as her orgasm engulfed her. She didn’t hear the rising crescendo of her moans that ended as a long scream. Deanna, never having felt so impassioned, opened her eyes seeing Rich standing there looking at the door. Brittany held it open and was distressed. Deanna could not hear anything because she was still moaning. She finally heard herself as the orgasm washed away. She was holding her knees, splaying herself open to this guy standing there open-mouthed like a deer in the headlights. She now understood the problem.
“They are coming, they heard you,” Brittany said. Just as some guy, a foot taller than Brittany, put his hand on the top of the door over her and pushed it all the way open. He was bald and wearing a black T-shirt that showed his well muscled body.
“What in the fuck,” the bouncer said as he looked at Deanna. She realized she was still spread on the sink grabbing her knees. She closed her legs and dropped to the floor, her weak knees gave out and she toppled over on to the floor bumping Rich’s legs on the way down. Deanna struggled to get up and when she managed to get back to her hands and knees the bouncer had closed the distance and ran Rich back and pinned him against the side of the stalls, his penis shrunk small enough it was like a turtle head pulling into its shell.
“What the fuck are you doing to her,” the bouncer said.
Brittany grabbed Deanna’s arm and hauled her up. She knelt down and grabbed her pants for her and pushed them at her. Deanna grabbed them, they were still inside out, but there was no time to fix them. She stood on one leg and pushed her left foot down the backwards pant leg. She quickly slipped the other leg in and was able to pull them up but could not button them with all the buttons facing in. Her slip-on shoes were still by the door and were on in a second.
“Don’t hurt him, I wanted him to,” Deanna said to the bouncer. He turned to see her as she bolted out of the bathroom with Brittany right behind. They forced their way through the crowd which had made their way nearer with all the commotion caused by the bouncer. The music had stopped and all the faces were staring at them. Mortified, Deanna kept pushing her way through, Brittany now tugging at her shirt to stay close and not get swept behind. They made their way outside.
“Oh shit,” Brittany said, “he must have been one hell of a pussy licking fool.”
They ran to the car, Brittany fished the keys out of her pocket. The car chirped as she unlocked it with the remote and they jumped in. The bouncer was not in sight.
“Hurry, get us out of here,” Deanna said repeatedly smacking the dashboard creating a greater sense of urgency.
Deanna fell back in her seat as they pulled out onto the main street. They drove back to Brittany’s place. Deanna was in no condition to drive home, so she stayed the night in her best friend’s apartment, in her best friend’s pajamas, in her best friend’s bed.