“A House of Colours” Part1 – A Fatefull Meeting
Poppy had decided that filling her rare days off from work with either romance novels or romantic movies wasn’t really putting herself out into the world but she was incredibly shy and unsure as to what she wanted, sexually anyway. She always attracted attention wherever she went, which really put her off because it was usually attention from the wrong people. Slight of size, she was a cute package to anyone’s eyes, long brown hair, green eyes and delicately toned athletic build.
She decided one night to put a brave face on, and a little red dress, cut above the knee, she had tried heels but settled for her red Sketcher trainers as she wasn’t sure what to expect in ‘Rykers’, the only ‘girls only’ club she knew of in the area. She took a small yellow clutch purse and wore her sea shell pendant. She had no idea what look she was going for so she decided on simply being herself.
A little after 8pm she walked into the club, a typically overly colourful space, neon lit, but vibrant place with a long glass topped bar. She tentatively glanced around and headed to the bar to order a glass of Malbec. While she waited she scanned subtly around, as subtle as someone standing alone at a bar could. A large dance floor was strewn with women of all ages who, judging by the way they flung themselves round and over each other, had obviously started drinking way too early in the day. Between the dance floor and the bar was soft furnished seating, booths down the sides, tables in the centre of the room, half-filled with people in groups and couples.
As her glass was placed down with a clink on the glass bar, Poppy turned to pay for her drink, and as she did so, she felt the presence of a tall figure looming next to her. Handing over her money, she glanced in the mirrored wall behind the bar and immediately made eye contact with the stranger staring straight back at her. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, she quickly averted her gaze down to the floor, but the stranger’s features were already imprinted on her brain – dark piercing brown eyes, jet black hair past her shoulders, a dark top with some red, a dark necklace of some kind, and an icy cold look.
Time felt as though it had stopped as the images played on a continuous loop in Poppy’s head. On looking to her own trainers, she noticed the deep red velvet-heeled ankle boots on the mystery woman by her side, probably about 4 inch heels, met by tight black denim. She found herself staring again as the silence was suddenly broken by a husky voice.
“Dirty Martini, double gin, 2 olives” she commanded the bar maid. Poppy kept her head low, just barely looking up to reach for her glass. She dared not not make eye contact again. She sipped her drink and turned away slightly, trying not to be obvious as she heard a glass being placed down, money being exchanged and eventually the sound of the heels fading into the distance, drowned out by the thumping bass of the club music. Poppy turned back to the mirror behind the bar, scanning through bottles of liquor and glasses to be certain that the mystery woman had indeed gone. She did so for a good few minutes until the bar maid spoke, “You meeting someone sweetheart?”
“Oh, oh er sure, yes.” She felt such a fool, what was she expecting, an angelic blonde goddess dressed in white to saunter in within minutes of her arrival and romantically whisk her off her feet? She looked at herself as best she could in the obscured mirror at the bar, took a deep breath, and turned slowly with her wine in her hand and took a moment to scan the room. Her immediate thought was that in the darker seated area sat the ‘Martini’ Woman…, somewhere, but she couldn’t see her.. she realised she was the one on show to anyone looking, fresh meat, a tentative Gazelle stepping out into the open savanna, just as the barmaid had said.
She gulped her wine… she was incredibly nervous, and it was getting to her. A couple walked in the door, giggling arm-in-arm as they approached the bar next to her. And once again Poppy looked away, avoiding eye contact. Is that what she wanted, would she really find it here? How does anybody find anybody these days?
She gulped another mouthful of wine, hoping it would calm her. It was becoming too overwhelming being there. She placed her glass down on the bar, still a quarter full, and walked out onto the street.
Feeling an utter failure, she walked down the busy street observing restaurants busy with couples, friends, crowds of people doing what they do on a Saturday night, social intercourse, fun… having a life. The bowling alley was at the end of the strip and she headed inside, determined not to go home yet. Just a less-pressured environment, she got herself a soft drink and went and found a quiet booth overlooking the alleys. Alleys filled with all sorts of people, friends, families.
She glanced around the bar area, making eye contact with a group of guys at a pool table. The usual attention she got. She turned away looking at her glass. Then something made her curious to turn back, she’d seen out of the corner of her eye, red velvet heeled boots black jeans at the bar, surely not? She was compelled to look again but by this time, the group of boys were heading straight towards her with a definite purpose. She tried to look around for an escape route, and for a moment saw long black hair on a figure at the bar, but her attention was quickly drawn to being put on the defensive. “How’s a pretty little thing like you alone on a Saturday night” the first guy jeered. Feigning confidence, Poppy took a deep breath and slowly made eye contact, “Er I’m not alone, I’m waiting for someone” she lied. “Well they’ re not here, so we’ll keep you company, shall we?” he leered back at her and slumped down beside her, pushing her down along the seat and leaning into her, while one friend slid into the opposite side of the booth, sandwiching her between them as the third friend stood over the end of the table.
Poppy knew she had to just stay calm, and remain in a public place. Very aware of her diminutive size against three 6ft tall men, she sat silently trembling while the first guy placed his hand on her knee. She tried to casually shrug him off, but she couldn’t, he was far too strong. As fear and panic welled-up inside her, she tried to repeat over and over in her head, just stay calm…just stay calm. A solution will present itself.
She looked at the guy standing over the table with slight fear in her eyes. “Excuse me young man,” a deep female voice bellowed from behind him. As he spun around, there standing tall with a glass of wine held low in her left hand was the mystery woman from the bar – red boots, tight jeans, black ruched leather jacket and plunging neckline red top – looking directly into his surprised eyes. Yes, he was taken aback by her initial look, but also because he was looking UP to make eye contact. Granted she had heels on, but she was a good few inches taller than he was, and twice as imposing, smiling in a sly way, no toothy grin as Poppy always managed, and wide eyes, beckoning. The guy reflexively moved aside as she stepped closer and made eye contact with Poppy. “Sorry sweetie, got held up at the bar, they had a very poor choice of red vintages so it took me a while to decide what to make do with.”
As she spoke the guy seated next to Poppy shuffled out towards her and stood up, puffing himself up like a prize boxer “So you both want some fun tonight ladies,” he leered, trying to be intimidating. Poppy was worried that this stranger had stepped into the middle of a potentially dangerous situation for her.
The woman placed her glass down just past him on the table and stood back surveying him, raising her head up, showing absolutely no fear, and locking onto him with as strong a gaze as he was giving her. “My dear boy, if we wanted some real fun we would go looking for men, not boys still living at home with Mommy!”
Poppy started to freak inside, feeling that the whole situation was about to get messy. But the woman firmly held her ground and her dagger-like stare, seemingly playing with the guy who by now was seething with anger. People at the surrounding tables had begun to take notice of the confrontation, but nobody yet had moved. The woman raised her hand very slowly and gently to the side of his face and stroked his cheek gliding it down to his neck, teasing him with her touch, her deep red nails gently crossing his pale skin. Leaning in closer with a seductive smile she whispered, “What I find amusing is that you think women such as either of us would ever stoop so low as to seek pleasure from boys like you.” Just as the last word left her lips, her hand on his neck clamped down on his throat, her other hand, lower down, simultaneously grabbing his manhood through his denim clad crotch. In one quick motion, she forcefully pushed him back, dropping him to his knees before her. She slowly relaxed her grip on his groin, but still firmly grasping his throat as he fought for breath.
Looming over him she barked “Now, I suggest you take your cronies over to the alleys and get yourself some bigger balls…oh, and think about what you’ve just learned today!” She turned to her side and shoved him to the floor as hard as she could, “Here endeth the lesson little boy.” With all the commotion, security guards were quick on the scene, just at the right time thought Poppy, because she could only see the situation ending in a bad way.
“What’s going on here people?” said the first authoritarian figure to arrive, staring at the guy on his knees gasping for breath and trying to get up. The mystery woman turned to face the guard, “Oh thank goodness” she exclaimed delicately, “my friend and I had just hoped for a quiet drink this evening and it wasn’t going well. I don’t think I’ve hurt him, but I knew if I made enough of a fuss there would be some knights in shining armour rushing to our rescue.”
Flattered and trying not to blush the guard and a colleague manhandled the hapless victim onto his feet and bundled him away towards the door with his cohorts following behind like a couple of puppies who had just been swatted across their snouts with a rolled-up newspaper.
With the show over, people quickly got back to their Saturday night entertainment, Poppy sat with her mouth agape, wordless at the scene she’d just watched play out before her. The mystery woman leaned down for her glass, scooping it up in her hands, the red of her nails deep matching the wine. “Stay out of trouble now little one, I might not be around next time.” With that, she turned on her heel to leave. As she took her first step in the opposite direction, Poppy in her half-dazed state heard a voice cry “Wait!”. It was her own voice. “Please erm er.. thank you,” she spluttered.
The figure slowly turned back to her, whipping her long hair across her shoulders as she did. Poppy tried desperately not to stare. “You’re very welcome little one”, was the reply, accompanied by a slight nod of her head. “But.. but…why, no one’s every stood up for me like that and… well, you don’t even know me.” Poppy mustered almost a coherent sentence.
“My lack of knowing you doesn’t mean I would simply sit by and watch you suffer,” the woman suggested. Poppy didn’t understand that view, no one had ever spared a thought for her before. “So are you moving onto a third bar, or are you stopping in this one?” she added.
Poppy, now incredibly caught up in the moment, found herself on autopilot “Er, no I’ll stay here a while, would.. would you…um…like to join me?” She suddenly realised what she’d just said out loud. On the one hand a mysterious woman had just saved her from an awkward and possibly dangerous situation, however she had apparently also followed Poppy from Rykers. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” was the cryptic reply from the stranger, now looking with piercing eyes from her standing vantage point. Poppy took a moment to stare back at her, gulping hard before answering “Yes, yes please…I mean you’re probably meeting someone so I assume you’re busy…?”
“I think I just have met someone.” She smiled alluringly and sat down opposite Poppy. “What’s your name pretty one?” “Er.. Poppy,” she nervously answered. “Of course, a beautiful delicate flower all in red,” she smiled. “So tell me Poppy, did you not find what you were looking for in the other bar?” The stranger sipped from her glass, tasting her lips with her tongue after doing so. “I.. er.. that is to say, I…” Poppy spluttered.
“You’re not sure what you want, are you my dear? That’s ok, but you knew you wanted something different than what you’ve found thus far in life didn’t you? You knew you had to go somewhere different for once, but it was all a bit too far from your comfort zone wasn’t it?And so you ran, only to find unwanted attention which seems to follow you around often, doesn’t it?” She pressed her fingertips together and smiled knowingly as she finished her assessment.
Poppy was stunned into silence but felt her head nodding slowly. This women before her was reading her so accurately, yet they had barely exchanges a word between them. “Don’t be frightened Poppy. Just say the word and I’ll leave the table for you to get on with your evening,” the woman reassured her. “No, no please don’t go,” Poppy chirped. “Very well,” the women answered, “so what were you looking for in that other bar?”
“I guess, I guess a different Saturday night than I usually opt for.” “And what’s a usual Saturday night for precious Poppy,” enquired the woman, slowly sipping on her wine, “sitting at home with a tub of ice cream watching a romantic movie?”
“Pretty much actually, yes,” Poppy chirped.
“Surely not my dear, a pretty little thing like you?”
“Sad isn’t it, I know…”
“Not at all my dear, I spend many nights stating in with a good book, and just very close friends to share it with.” With that, she finished her wine, placed the glass back on the table and looked deep into Poppy’s eyes with her own deep brown pools. “You have beautiful green eyes my dear…you know I had to finish my last drink quite quickly when you left. I may need to visit the restrooms, do you know where they are?”
“Yes sure, I’ll show you” Poppy replied. With that the two women stood and Poppy led the way past the alleys to the restrooms.
A typical overly-bright room with purple colouring to match that of the alleys logo, and way too much lighting and pale walls. “Why is everyone obsessed with whiteness,” the woman muttered as her heels clicked across the restroom floor, echoing louder than the subtle piped in music.
On exiting the restroom cubicles, Poppy stood beside the woman, trying not to stare are her reflection, but so very desperate to look upon her as they washed their hands. As before in the bar, she caught her gaze staring right back. The woman walked behind her and stopped, placing her hands on her shoulders, leaning down to her she whispered in Poppy’s ear, “A different Saturday night than usual eh?” and with that she swept Poppy’s hair away from her left side and began to lightly kiss her neck. Poppy froze to the spot as every hair on her body felt electrified, eyes wide, jaw slowly dropping open. She stared into the reflection as though what she saw before her was a movie and not really her. This tall dark-haired, immaculately turned out confident sexy goddess and Poppy gazed back at her from the mirror. It truly was a Lioness preying on a helpless Gazelle.
The woman’s hands slipped around her and turned her, bringing Poppy face-to-face and stepping into her, firmly pinning her to the basin mounted on the wall. Poppy stared in awe as the woman looked down at her, sliding one hand up into Poppy’s hair, gripping it firmly and tugging, gently tilting the girl’s neck over. Just as she did so, the woman kissed her, hard on the lips, her tongue intruding into Poppy’s mouth. She kissed hard, but passionately hard, not like any guy she’d ever kissed. This was erotic, this was unexpected, this was public.
The thoughts of who and where washed away from her, as Poppy gave in to the assault being carried out on her senses. She wrapped her arms around the woman’s shoulders and held on tight. The woman held her by her head and her waist and supported her tiny frame. Poppy’s head swam giddily as the woman’s tongue probed her receptive mouth while her hand slowly snaked around her waist, lifting up her skirt and moving to the outside of her panties. The woman’s fingers enveloping her sex, firmly rubbing her, then wending their way up and slide inside the underwear. Two experienced fingers deftly working into her folds. Within what felt like mere minutes, Poppy could feel herself building to orgasm as two of the woman’s fingers now penetrated her, sliding in and out with ease given how wet she had quickly become. As her orgasm took hold of her, the kissing stopped and the woman pulled Poppy by her hair firmly back over the basins, the girl’s small hands grasping at thin air as she began to spasm and buck, screaming uncontrollably “YES… YEEESS… FFFFUUUUUUUUUCCCKKK AAAAAAGHHH!!!!”
The woman supported Poppy’s limp body for a moment, allowing her to catch her breath, making sure she could stand. Poppy reluctantly let go of her embrace, turning and gripping the sink for support. Wordlessly, the woman washed her hands at the neighbouring basin and as she walked behind her once more whispered “I hope that was enough of a different Saturday night for you? I’ll see you back at our table,” winking as she walked out.
Poppy stood there looking at herself in the mirror, wide-eyed, playing through what had just happened, her panties sopping wet, legs feeling like jelly, hair untidy. “Wow” was all she could muster up saying as her breathing slowly returned to normal. “WOW!” she said again, and smiled at her reflection staring back.
She washed her hands, sorted her hair as best she could, readjusted her dampened underwear, and walked out of the restrooms. Back at the table, their glasses still stood, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. As she sat down eagerly looking around, a barmaid appeared with a fresh glass of Malbec and an accompanying sealed bottle on a tray with an upturned business card. The bar maid placed them down in front of her and walked off in silence. Turning the card over, Poppy read the note:
If you want more of the same next Saturday night, call me Thursday 555-077210491 Rx
Poppy’s head spun again, recounting the whole evening as she sat and sipped her fresh drink. It had indeed been a very different experience from her normal Saturday nights. She didn’t take long finishing her drink, and grabbed the sealed bottle to take home with her.
Once home, she she stripped off, showered and slipped between her sheets, recounting the moment in the restroom in her mind while she masturbated, imaging it all over again in every detail she could remember – the gripped pulled hair, the forcefulness of the woman, but no fear, she took it willingly and had enjoyed every moment. After a solo satisfying performance, she drifted off to sleep.
Waking in the late hours of the next morning, still in disbelief, Poppy raced to her kitchen table to find the bottle of wine standing proud, reassuring her that it was no dream. Propped against the bottle, the note and the number. The words ‘more of the same’ made her stomach flutter…
