Gemma: A Tale of Love

"Beer would be nice."

"A beer and my usual, please," Gemma said, and Sam headed off to the bar.

Gemma drew me over to the seats she'd pointed out and we sat down. I took a moment to gather my wits. Gemma was full of surprises, and I wasn't sure what she was looking for from me. At best, I was a student with somewhat limited funds; I wasn't as badly off as some of my fellow students; I had enough put away that I could afford to go out regularly, but looking around this place I guessed the prices were well above my level. If this was what Gemma expected from me, I was thinking it was time for me to bow out gracefully with my ego intact.

"Gemma," I said hesitantly, "This place, it's out of my league. I like you, but I can't afford to take you to places like this."

"Don't worry, Tony, you couldn't pay even if you wanted to, only members can."

"And you're a member," I said, remembering what she'd told me in the cab.

She smiled, "A gift from the owner when I stopped working here. He pays the bills, so I don't drink champagne."

I looked inquisitively at the champagne flute in her hand.

She giggled, "It's ginger ale."

"Ah."

She laughed at my understatement and drew me into a quick kiss. "We only need to wait here for a little while. I need to a quick word with someone, and then we can go and dance."

I smiled, "I'm fine. Some stranger is buying me beers, and I get to dance with a beautiful woman later."

Again, she smiled and gave me a happy giggle. Then pressing up against me, she said, "Thanks, I like the idea of dancing with you too

We sat there talking while the room slowly filled up, she was quite touchy-feely, her hands caressing my leg and arm. My first impression was that almost all the members were in their forties and fifties and well dressed. After a while I noticed that there were also a couple of women who were obviously members and not hostesses.

There seemed to be an endless stream of beautiful hostesses, all wearing the same outfits Sam and Robyn wore. The only variation, the colors of the Basques, which gave the room the impression a rainbow was drifting through it. Most of them came over to talk briefly with Gemma and say hello to me. All wore the same midnight blue choker, some adorned with the golden disc similar to the one at Gemma's neck. There seemed to be almost one hostess for every member.

When Gemma had said that the place was a bit odd, she hadn't been kidding. Scantily dressed beautiful moved effortlessly around the rooms, pausing to briefly speak to members. Their hands never still as they touch an arm, a chest or a face. A quick kiss and they'd move on. Several times as a member arrived, a girl wound detach herself from whatever group she was in and make her way unerringly to the member's side. From that moment, she wouldn't leave his side.

We'd been there about an hour when she stiffened. I followed her gaze and saw a man in his late forties standing at the bar. He was dressed in a smart three-piece suit and was ordering a drink. As he waited, he was looking around, obviously scanning the room for something or someone.

When he saw Gemma, he started to move in our direction. She told me to stay where I was and rose and walked across the room to meet him. He took hold of her arm and pulled her off to one side. They talked for almost fifteen minutes, towards the end Gemma was looking agitated and kept glancing over at me, but when she saw me start to rise she shook her head.

Whatever they said it was obvious from their expressions that neither were happy with the outcome as they moved apart, he returning to the bar and Gemma to me. She didn't sit back down, just tugged my hand and pulled me up.

"I'm all done," she said. "It's time for us to have some fun, do you want to dance?" She pointed at the doors that led to the disco. She looked hopeful so I agreed.

Through the doorway was a room with a staircase that led down to the basement. The basement was noisy and full of flashing lights. Gemma dragged me into the middle, wrapped her arms around my neck and moved in close, her body moving sinuously with the music.

After a few moments on the floor, I was aware that she was in a class of her own and I just wanted to watch her. I stepped back a couple of paces and watched as she moved to the beat of the music in a world of her own. She garnered attention, a lot of attention. It wasn't like those daft movies where everybody forms a circle watching the dancer, but men and women were easing away from the crowd and moving into her sphere, trying to match her moves until she danced away, leaving them slick with sweat.

I backed away from the crowd, afraid of getting in their way, and watched, fascinated. It seemed primal to me. They were all responding to ancient drums and forgotten tempos that they could no longer hear, but could certainly feel.

Paralysed with lust, my gaze never left her body. Could she feel the weight of my stare? I felt like I was touching her. I could feel the energy radiating from her sensual, hot body. It struck me deep in my chest, a silvery leash that stretched between us and drew me forward, one slow step at a time, closing on the object of my desire.

The music ended. In the pause, an eerie silence descended on the club. Nobody seemed to be talking or laughing. Not a single glass clinked. That pause seemed to last for hours, but in reality, only seconds passed, and in those brief seconds, I took my final steps, closing the gap between us. I reached her, wrapping my arms around her, pushing my hard body against her.

What is she doing to me? I thought of asking her, but her hand was on my arm, burning my skin, branding me as her property, then she was pulling me off the dance floor. She covered my mouth with hers as soon as we reached the dark perimeter of the club. We stumbled backwards against the wall, knocking my breath from me. The music started again, and it felt like it would split my brain. I looked up, dazed, and found we were in an isolated dark corner behind a stack of speakers.

How the hell did we get back here?

She kissed me again, this time savagely, pushing me back against the wall until I was breathless. Even then, she didn't stop moving to the beat of the music. I kissed her until my lips were swollen and sensitive. I pushed my pelvis forward, the hardness of my cock rubbing against her as she gyrated her hips.

I was only aware of two things. Gemma's intoxicating presence and the blistering need to fuck her, the sort of need that singed my flesh and burned my mind until I was just one solid ache. The pressure of the mind-numbing beat of organic sound that enveloped us, grew that ache. The bass vibrated in my chest, echoed in her body, returning to mine, amplified. It felt as though she was touching me from the inside out, caressing my skin, making it vibrate, reaching every inch of me.

I slid my hand under her skirt, cupping her sex through her wet panties. She tugged at my fly trying to pull the zipper down with clammy hands, her thumb repeatedly slipping. I attacked her neck while she struggled with the zipper, making it impossible for her to concentrate on her task. She flung her head back. The harder I sucked, the sharper I bit, the more she seemed to want. I bruised her delicate skin with a hard demanding mouth, and she squirmed and writhed, desperate to relieve the hot throbbing tension that was building under my moving fingers.

Finally, she got a good grip on the zipper, pulled it down and freed my rampant cock. Now it was free and in her hands, throbbing, already slick with desire and desperate to push into her. We spun so her back was against the black wall and I lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around me as I tore her blue panties from her. I slid a finger up her thigh beneath her skirt, and she growled as it entered the promised land, discovering and invading her wet center.

She grasped my cock, aligning it with her pussy, and in one hard, savage movement I was buried to the hilt, her flesh yielding gloriously to my cock. The music stopped just as I began moving my hips, and we both froze, biting our tongues, mindful of the precarious position we were in.

It couldn't have been more than ten seconds, and probably far less than that, between the two songs, but Gemma wriggled, pinned between the wall and my rampant flesh, as though she would expire on my cock from her lust and impatience. I could feel her heart pounding so loudly I thought the entire club would be able to hear it. Her breath came in shaky gasps and gulps, the more she tried to repress her panting, the louder it became.

She could sense the strain reflected on my face as I tried to keep myself silent and immobile during the deathly pause. I knew that people probably wouldn't be able to hear us, but there was still that chance and neither wanted to risk discovery.

The next song finally began with an echoing, haunting drum solo, and my hips moved with the beat. Our movements were so in sync with the music; it felt like we were dancing. I imagined the sound waves bending around us, breaking like the waves in the ocean, moving rhythmically with their bodies. The music built around us, making my teeth rattle, the pressure swelled deep inside my core, and we both moved faster, driven by the drums reverberating through our feet.

Her body was so assaulted by sounds and sensations that I couldn't tell exactly when her orgasm began, couldn't tell if there were multiple mini-quakes, or just one long, drawn out a chord of pleasure that made her body vibrate on my cock like a violin string. I slammed her into the wall one final time, my orgasm forcing my cum deep into her core in multiple squirts.

"Fuck!" The first coherent word I'd heard from her since we'd entered the disco. She tightened her arms that were wrapped around my neck and lowered one leg to the floor.

"Fuck," she repeated, "That was fucking amazing."

Then our precarious situation came back to her, and she eased herself off my still hard cock. She pulled her skirt down and used her torn panties to mop up my cum that was dribbling down the inside of her thighs, then she wiped my softening cock and tucked him away.

I went with her to freshen up. She led me past the toilets and through a door into a staff locker room. She took a fresh pair of panties from a locker and went into the ladies' bathroom. She reappeared 10 minutes later looking and smelling clean and fresh.

I used the time waiting for her to quickly tidy up. I could barely believe what had just happened to me. I'd almost expected that a stranger would have peered out at me from the mirror as I felt I'd changed that much from the person who'd walked through the front door a couple of hours ago.

Gemma proved with a quick flip of her skirt, that her new panties were red. She looked at me for approval and I gave it with a long kiss. My hands concluded my approval as they slid down her back to clutch her panty clad ass and pull her in tight to me. We sat down in the same cosy corner, and after she'd curled up close, she looked at me nervously and said, "I hope you don't think I do that with all my dates. There's something about the music and you that made me want you then and there."

I responded by giving her a kiss on her still puffy lips. I said jokingly, "l feel so used and abused, and I loved every second of it. I just hope that you want to abuse me many more times."

She laughed, "I think you can count on that." She ordered a drink for us, and I sipped my beer gratefully, enjoying the warmth of her body as she rested against me. She raised her face hopefully, and I kissed those soft lips again.

"So playing with toy boys are we now, Gemma," a harsh voice from behind me interrupted us. "I'm surprised he can afford you."

"Crap," she murmured. "It's Simon, one of those ex's I warned you about." We both turned to face him. He was tall and in his late-thirties, a hard angular face.

"He's so good I should be paying him," she replied. "Whatever it is you want, Simon, I'm not interested, so go away like the good boy you are." She turned her back to him, resting her head on my shoulder.

He spluttered and said, "We need to talk. In private," he added, with a glance in at me.

"No we don't, we've had this conversation, and there's nothing else left to say. So please go away."

He hesitated and looked like he was going to argue. Then he shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Beside me, I felt Gemma release her breath. I don't think she realized she'd been holding it in.

Gemma watched Simon as he found a space at the bar. He sat and ordered a drink. He swiveled in his seat so he could watch her.

"I think it's best if we go," she said, as she stood up. I followed her out to the lobby where she collected her coat. As I waited for the girl to find her coat, I was wondering what this evening had been about. It wasn't your normal first date, that was for sure. Hopefully it would all become clearer to me soon. Not that I was complaining it had been the most amazing date so far.

Sam and Robyn came out to say goodbye. Robyn gave her a long look, then one at me.

"Oh, girlfriend, you've got that 'I've just been gloriously fucked look'. Is he that good?"

Gemma hooked her arm into mine, "Better!"

I could feel the red as it crept up my neck and the girls laughed at my discomfort.

Robyn moved close to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling my ear close to her mouth. She whispered so only I could hear her, "Look after her; you're just what she need at the moment." Then she kissed me before stepping back.

Out on the street, the doorman whistled for a cab.

I thought she'd ask me where I wanted to be dropped off, but instead, she gave the driver the address of her flat in Wimbledon. She stilled my question with her lips.

"I want to prove that I'm way better than a quick fuck on the dance floor, Tony. Also, there are a few things about my past that I think you need to know. I need to tell you, but I'd rather do it in the comfort of my bed. Are you all right with that?"

I was happy to go with the flow. Hell, I was going home with a beautiful woman I'd just fucked in public. I was more than happy. I was working a late shift the next day and wasn't starting until two in the afternoon, so for me, the evening had only just started.

She took my silence as a yes, sighed happily and curled up against me on the back seat of the cab. I nuzzled her bare neck and noticed that choker She'd worn earlier was gone. I was going to ask her about it, but she started to caress the bulge my cock was making in the front of my chinos and I lost my train of thought.

Half an hour later, she pushed open the door to her flat and we entered. Her place was well furnished, but I only gave it a cursory glance; all my attention was on the woman standing before me. She dropped her coat on a chair in the hall and then closed the gap between us.

She pressed herself against me and gave a happy groan as she felt my body respond to her. My hands slid down her back, under her skirt and beneath her panties to caress the curves of her ass. She ground her pelvis against mine as our lips were locked together. The pain from the earlier bruising was a sweet reminder of our coupling in the club.

I drew her up, and again she wrapped her long legs around my waist, her lips never leaving mine. She pointed at a door to my left and I carried her into her bedroom.

I managed, with a skill I hadn't known I possessed, to lay her gently down on the soft covers of her bed. She opened her eyes in surprise when she comprehended that she was horizontal, and I was lying on top of her. Then she moaned as my hard cock pressed against her.

She rolled to one side and sat up. She pulled her top off, her head disappearing for a moment, reappearing with her hair all tousled and a broad grin on her face. I leant forward and kissed her, stroking her lace-covered breasts, her nipples hard peaks. I found the clasp between her breasts and opened it, freeing them from their lace prison. My mouth latched onto her nipple, sucking and teasing it, relishing the feeling on my tongue, as it hardened in my mouth.

She murmured, "You're wearing too much." To prove that point, she had unbuttoned my shirt and was fumbling with the zip of my fly again. This time, I wanted to savor her body. I unzipped her skirt and she lifted her hips off the bed to make it easier for me to slide it down her legs and toss it into the dark reaches of the bedroom. Her panties quickly followed the fate of the skirt, and I paused long enough to admire her beauty.

Her black hair fanned out on the white covers, framing her face, her eyes wide open, studying me as I froze, drinking in her beauty.

She was exquisite; her skin had a definite hint of coffee to it, a legacy of her Jamaican heritage. She had obviously been sunbathing topless. The tan lines around her full and firm breasts with their dark aureoles and large hard nipples less defined than those lower down. I stared at her almost bald pussy; just a thin line of dark hair pointing the way to the heart of her sex. I'd seen trimmed pussies before, but this was the first ultra-trimmed and shaved one I'd seen.

Her lips curled into a smile as she whispered, "I'll not break; you can touch me."

I stretched out a hand and traced the back of a finger down from the nape of her neck to the top of her thighs while I murmured. "Are you sure? I'm scared that you will disappear, and this will just be a dream."

She laughed, "I promise you, I'm real and I'm not going anywhere."

I stripped off the last of my clothes and covered her body with mine, the frenzy of our earlier coupling forgotten as I traced my way down her body with my mouth. Her legs opened when I reached the core of her sex, inviting my attention, but I left her sweet core alone as I continued to work my way down to one knee, then reversed direction, working my way back up the inside of her other thigh.

The little sighs of encouragement she'd been uttering during my travels morphed into a long gasp of pleasure as my tongue licked along the length of her slit. Her puffy red tinged pussy lips showed confirmation of our earlier play at the club. The beads of desire coating them tasted sweet with a salty aftertaste that I realized without distaste was evidence of my earlier presence inside this woman.

I sucked and nibbled her plump lips until her fingers wound into my hair and pulled my mouth higher to the hard nub at the top of her slit.

She urged me to suck and bite, words interspersed with plaintive cries of pleasure, her hips bucking and rolling in a desperate need to be penetrated. When I slid two fingers into her core, she screamed and cried out.

"Oh fuck yes, make me cum; please make me cum."

Her fingers tightened, twisting my hair between them, the tugs verging on painful. She was shaking her head from side to side. I sucked hard on her clit, and my fingers rubbed at the wall of her pussy, stimulating the core of her sensuality, the elusive G-spot.

She lost control of her body as her orgasm built up and then struck, wave after wave of contractions that seemed to go on forever. She screamed, her voice a long high pitched keen. It was several minutes before she seemed to be able to control herself.

Her eyes looked at me hungrily, and she pulled me up to cover her body, legs wide to accept my hard flesh into her again. I paused, holding myself up so I could look down at her, the tip of my cock pressing against her lips.

"Ready?" I gasped.

"Fuck yes," she groaned as she pushed up with her hips, trying to engulf me. "Christ, I need to feel you inside of me again."

One long steady thrust and I was deep inside her glorious pussy for the second time that evening. The walls of her slick passage conformed to the shape of my cock, massaging me, making me moan aloud.