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I could never confront myself with my sexuality; I was always debating if I was straight or not. My parents would kill me if I so much as looked at a girl the wrong way, but males never felt right. I finally had the chance to figure things out when I met Leila. I was 21 and working as a bartender. The men there would always yell at me, telling me to take off my shirt or to stand up on the bar. I would always refuse, but that didn’t stop some unlawful squeezing of my rump. I hated it. It was a chilly late summer-early fall night, not that busy, when Leila walked in. She was wearing simply a pair of black skinny jeans and a cute red top, her heels making her nearly a head above the average woman. I was sadly forced into usual bar attire- a black t-shirt that read the bar’s name on it, hugging at my waist and my seemingly large breasts, and a black miniskirt. She sat right in front of me and smiled, her long blonde locks bouncing in her ponytail. “What would you suggest on the menu?” She asked, her voice a bit rough. “It depends, do you want something that’ll make you act like him-” I asked, pointing to the man drunkenly dancing on a poor lady (presumably his wife). “-or him?” I asked, pointing to the man passed out in the corner. She laughed. “Neither, I guess.” She stuck out her hand. “Leila.” I shook her hand. “Andrea.” I began to wipe up the bar, seeing that it was close to closing. “What brings you out here?” “My girlfriend,” She replied, much to my shock. She had a persona that made it seem like she was straight. “But as soon as I got here, we had a fight and split up.” I put down the rag. “I’m sorry.” She waved me off. “Please, it’s fine. She was being a complete bitch, plus it was over two weeks ago. Now she’s visiting her family in Boston.” I smiled. “Well, at least you seem happy.” She smiled. “I am, I just need a little bit of fun.” She bit her lip and looked me up and down. “And you seem like you’d be it.” – We continued talking for the 45 minutes before closing. As everybody left, she stayed and helped me pick up all of the bottles. “You know, Andrea,” she said, standing up with a armload of beer bottles. “I absolutely love your look.” “My look?” I reply. I wasn’t even 5’3; sure, I was skinny and maybe even ‘petite’, but my breasts were overly bahis siteleri large along with my bottom. Many girls would enjoy it, but I hated it from the years of verbal abuse by the male population. “Yes, your look. Your hair is absolutely gorgeous; I’ve always wanted hair that would do something. Mine would always lay flat, but yours is dark brown and wavy! I mean, it’s amazing!” With her bottles now in the garbage bag, she came over and touched my hair. “It’s so soft, and it goes with your eye color. And your body type is absolutely stunning.” She said, tracing her hand down my arm. I smirked as I carried the bag through the bag door, to the garbage. She followed. “I am not stunning.” I tossed the bag into the dumpster and started to walk back to the door. “You’re right,” she replied. “You’re sexy.” I stopped dead in my tracks, putting one hand on the brick wall and turned to face her. She towered above me as she backed me up towards it. “And I want you.” She leaned down, pushing my back up against the wall and engulfed me in her tender kiss. God, when they said the best person you could kiss is a woman, they were right. I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed back, easily overtaken by her powerful lips. I snaked my tongue into her mouth as she began walking, me still attached to her kiss. We went through the open door and she sat me on the bar. My legs wrapped around her waist like a puzzle piece as her fingers began tracing down my back. Her fingers began to gently lift my shirt up when I stopped her. “Don’t you want this?” she asked, clearly upset. “Yes, I just feel like it should be- better.” I replied, giving her another kiss on the lips. “I think we should figure out something that would meet both our needs.” So, she sat down on a chair with me in her lap. We talked and figured out each others deepest desires. I admitted that I was into foreplay and a little bit of taboo. She admitted that she liked to be dominant and that she goes completely wild when she’s teased. I enjoy tight clothes while she enjoys a lack of them. All the while, I had to stop her roaming hands when they traced up my leg and began to go under my shirt. I wanted it- but we had to wait. So we agreed on something: she would come after the bar closed the next night canlı bahis siteleri in the sexiest outfit possible. I would wear my uniform, but make it cover much less than it usually does. With all of my escapades with her, I had missed the last bus. She agreed to drive me to my apartment after I locked up. When she dropped me off, we made out for a few minutes. I was almost to the front door of the building when she ran up, surprisingly fast considering she was in heels. “Let me have one touch, please. Just one.” “Fine. Touch anywhere you want.” I had expected her to go for my chest or my ass. Instead, she slipped her hand up my skirt. I glanced around, hoping nobody was outside at the moment. Her fingers touched my swollen clit and she discovered how wet I really was. Hearing my slight moan upon her touch, she plunged one finger into me and kissed my neck. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. I still made her stop and promise, “No masturbating.” She groaned, but agreed yet again. She gave me a final kiss on the lips, long and passionate. Whispering into my ear, she said, “See you tomorrow, slut.” With that, she gave me a sexy smirk and a pinch on the ass and was gone. – I hated not being able to masturbate. She was all I could think about as I showered. My fingers began to make there way down, rubbing my clitoris and nearly inside of myself. I forced myself to stop, finally understanding what boys meant by “blue balls”. It hurt. I had a few different skirts and a few different tops. There was one that was so small that I would never wear to the bar-usually. It went to right about where my ass stopped. Whenever I would walked, it would slide up and you would be able to see whatever was underneath. I set that out and looked through my shirts, finding the lowest cut one. I stood in front of my floor length mirror and looked at my naked body. I had juices running down my legs from my recently waxed vagina. I looked at my breasts and remembered my high school sweetheart, the only boy who had ever seen my chest and who had ever hit a “home run” with me. John. The name brought a smile to my face. He was the sweetest. He would tell me that my breasts were marvellous and perky and that he would never have sex with anybody else. Little to say, I was upset by canlı bahis that. Frankly, he sucked. After I broke up with him, he got angry. He sent topless pictures of me around, saying that my breasts were saggy. I sighed and put on my pajamas. I never felt the same because of him. But now, Leila makes me feel like a star. I feel not just sexy when I’m with her, but beautiful. I dozed off, dreaming about her and what she would look like underneath her clothes. I woke up insanely wet but in the best mood ever. Classes started at 9:30 for me and I didn’t have to be at the bar until 8:00 pm. This was gonna be a long day. – It was about 10 minutes after closing time. Everybody had finally left and I was cleaning up. I was taunted by the males. Once, when I was bringing a round to a table, one of them stood up and wrapped his arm around my waist. I put the drinks down on the table and he cupped my breasts, saying, “See boys. This is how they should look.” They left and I went back behind the bar, mortified. I wish I was allowed to slap the customers. I waited, leaning on the counter. I had decided to wear a black lace thong. I doubt you could even tell it was lace, seeing that it barely covered anything. I had a matching black bra that covered my nipples and just about nothing else. Even then, they poked through. I had bought it on one excursions when I thought it would be useful. Tonight, it finally was. My stiletto heels killed my feet. I was doubting she would show up. Finally, I sat down on a bar stool on the opposite side. I had made myself a martini when I heard the front door open. I looked and saw the beauty that she is. Her clothes were tight, but barely there. It was a turn on for me. She had on a pair of tight black shorts and a red crop top that hugged her chest in the right ways. Her cleavage line made me crazy, and her long legs dazzled me. Finally, Leila took a seat next to me and the other martinis I had set out. I forced myself to remember what we were doing: foreplay. It seemed like it would be more like roleplay from the start, but I didn’t mind. “Why, hello there.” She said as she slid next to me. Quickly, she grabbed a drink a took a sip. “You’re looking exquisite.” I nodded nervously. “So are you.” She laughed and placed her palm on my thigh. “Andrea, please. Drink. It will make you less nervous.” I nodded and took a large gulp of my drink. She grinned. “Good girl. Now, why don’t you put on some music so we can dance?” I nodded and got up, almost robotically.
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