Weekend Away

After the tights comes my dress. It's black, bondage-tight in a slightly light-catching fabric. Simple shoulder straps and a faux-belt-detail to emphasise my waist. I also put on a lacy-crochet shrug to define my arms and shoulders. Dangly silver earrings, a silver/ruby pendant on a delicate silver chain and several silver bangles on each wrist. I leave off my watch as tonight, as long as Scott is punctual, I don't care what the time is.

The skirt of my dress comes down to just past the darker part at the top of my tights. It shows as much of my black-nyloned legs as is modest. These legs now lead down to my six-inch Rocket-Dog heels. Pretty, classic black court-shoes with a sweet ribbon-bow on the vamp and a rock-chick twist. Three-quarter inch platforms under the foot with a tread on them like a work-boot. It hardly shows but it gives the shoes a little edge, a little edge that says I look super-sweet, but there may be a sting.

I slip on my AllSaints black leather jacket, biker styled but sooo soft and grab my black, suede clutch (containing just keys, lipstick, some cash and condoms) and step out to the lift (elevator I suppose) and descend to the lobby, only 15 minutes late.

As I step out of the elevator I see Scott, he's been waiting patiently I can tell, and I almost faint. He looks soooo good. Rough and tough and strong and mean. I've been holding out for a hero and here he is. He turns and sees me and his eyes go wider than ever before. I think he likes what he sees. I walk straight up to him and kiss him gently on the cheek. He wants more but I no-no him as I don't want these lips messed up yet.

"So mister, buy a girl a drink..."

He seems unable to speak. I look him up and down and see that he has done as I asked, or else he has stuck a pair of socks down his jeans. He sees me notice the state he's in and blushes like a little boy, again. I take his hand and lead him to a table. There's a cab due in ten minutes. In the meantime I would love to know what is going through Scott's mind . . . as I sit on his lap and we sip some mineral water . . . and I wiggle my bottom a little . . .

Ah, there's the cab. I'm kind of glad it's arrived because Scott looks fit to burst. He is flushed and breathing a little heavily and I get the idea he may have had enough of the teasing... there's a little more to come but I think he'll think it's worth it. I certainly feel worth it! This is a reaction I could only have dreamed of. I mean, a man like Scott, tall, broad, bright, educated, courteous and so arousing, dressed exactly like I want him and looking only at me. Did any girl ever feel so desired and sexy and gaaawwd I love this feeling! This is how I always want to feel. I've been teasing him with a hand on his thigh, up and down, closer and closer...

I break off suddenly and I stand up and do a little twirl. I know he likes short black dresses, I know he likes seams, I know he likes me and I bask in his gaze like it's a sunbeam. Scott stands up too and I almost burst out laughing as I see him trying to rearrange himself discreetly. It's cruel of me but I love it, I love the tribute to my feminine charms. I am almost going to pass-out. Scott seems to sense I need assistance and moves in to support me. I take the opportunity to push my arse into his thigh and I feel a fleeting heat through my skirt and tights... Phew!

We'd better go. I take Scott's hand and lead him out to the cab. As we walk I know he's watching my posterior aspect and I can almost feel his eyes raking up and down like sexy-searchlights...

"So, where are we going...?" he asks.

I just turn with a finger to my lips and walk on. Once we are out in the cab, settled close together in the backseat he asks again. This time I put my finger on his lips as I pass the address to the driver. I follow up the finger with the lightest of tender lip-brushes and just the tiniest kitten-bite of his lower lip. Then I pull back before he has time to take it further... Thank god Scott is such a gentleman despite tonight's 'bit of rough' look. He sits back in his seat and exhales slowly and I return to doodling teasing circles of the denim of his thigh with my sharp red nails... we sit in this sensual-sweet atmosphere and silence for the entire 20 minutes of the cab journey. I notice the cabby shifting his rear-view mirror, first to my legs, then to my roving hand - perks of the job, hope he likes what he sees...

We aren't going far but I was so surprised to find a night like this in this foreign city that I knew as soon as it popped up on my websearch that I had to bring Scott here. Soon we pull up outside The 12Bar Club, a fairly seedy looking downtown place but it's the poster outside I point at. Scott reads:

"Sync or Sing - what's that then?"

"Wellll," I say, "it's not quite Karaoke and it's not quite lip-sync."

Scott looks appalled. He looks at me as if to say,

"A freakin" karaoke night, drunk couples singing soppy country and crappy pop to one another all night..."

Before he actually says it jump in with:

"It's not like that I promise, it's themed around classic rock tracks and the thing is that each singer could either be singing or syncing. The fun is in trying to figure out which. Has that guy" I point across at the queue and a tallish man with long blond curls "really got Robert Plant's voice or is he hiding behind Planty's recorded tones trying to impress the girls...? See it's fun."

Scott still doesn't look convinced.

"Are you going to sing?" he asks me. "I'm going to perform for you" I say "up to you to decide whether I have the chops or not... and no bloody saxophone solos to contend with."

I wag a mock-admonishing figure and finally Scott cracks a smile and says:

"Whatever you say babe. The view's good even if the sounds are suspect"

He looks me up and down again and winks. I go wobbly again and concede a kiss. I'm going to have to go straight to the ladies to fix my lips once we're in. This is getting dangerous, I'm perilously close to letting Scott do (or make me do) anything he wants, better move fast. By the time he's seen my act I hope he'll be out of his mind...

We queue and get fast-tracked by a winking bouncer (a doorman they call them over here).

"Come along guys," he says, "ladies free and if you're with her you get a pass to the front of the line," he tells Scott.

"Damn right she's with me," says my tall, powerful date and I snuggle under his arm as he pays the doorgirl (I see you looking girl... ) and we are ushered inside.

Despite the slightly classy door policy the club is just the sort of dive I love. The thing is, places like this get a bad name but the guys and girls you meet in The 12Bar and places like it are the most tolerant and accepting people you'll meet anywhere. Outsider music means everyone is accepted, it's kinda beautiful man... Scott snaps me from my hippie musings and asks me if I want a drink.

"What have they got?" I ask.

"Looks like, beer, beer, bottled beer or bourbon," he tells me.

Perfecto! I tell him I'll take a bottle of Becks and give his arse a squeeze as I point at the pink door with the rock-chick silhouette on it across the room. He gives me a pat on the arse that drifts down to a rub on the thigh and I tick-click away across the room and through the crowd. I feel eyes, not only Scott's, on my arse and legs and I love it. A glance tells me that Scott has seen them too and a wink tells Scott that he needn't worry, tonight I'm all his. I take a moment in a stall to make sure I'm clean and ready for later before refreshing my only slightly smudged lips (you have to be very careful this close to scarlet though, a tiny smudge and you look like you might be available for $15 a go...).

On my way back from the loo I stop at the DJ booth and check they have my track and I book onto the schedule. I'm on third, after a girl called Marilyn and two guys calling themselves Todd and Rundgren. I spot Scott at the bar, two bottles of Becks in one big hand and I catch his eye and square my shoulders before walking directly towards him, giving him the full strut and making sure he knows that it's all for him. I strut right up to him, take a bottle from his hand and take a swig before growling,

"Tell me about it, stud..." like Sandra Dee before collapsing in giggles...

"I see why you dressed me up," says Scott, "I fit right in."

He's right, he does, we both blend in perfectly with the biker-guys and their mini- skirted girls. I love it. I know I keep saying that but I do, I love it. I slink up close to Scott and rest my arse on his groin. He sighs, but bears it like a man. And I feel him, a man growing against my bum and I almost swoon, again. I love it. We share a few more beers and have just decided on a first round of Bourbons (I WILL NOT drink JD, but (and it's rare I get this lucky) luckily they have my favourite; Sazerac, no ice, Scott has the same and likes it, or says he does) when the DJ calls out that Sync or Sing is about to begin.

"Here we go," I tell Scott, "get ready to be proud of me... "

"Already am..."

"Well, prouder then..."

I smile at him as a Marilyn lookalike takes the stage and opens the evening with a pretty groovy rendition of Me and Bobby McGee.

"What do you reckon?" I ask Scott.

"Pretty hot, nice legs.. "

"Hey, down here," I say "Keep your eyes on me buster! Now, was she singing or syncing?"

We agree she was singing as there were a few variations from the classic Janis Joplin vocal line. Marilyn has a pretty good voice and as she leaves the stage she looks at Scott, then she sees me and smiles. It's a genuine smile so we both raise our glasses to her as she heads to the back of the room and her gaggle of girlfriends.

Next, Todd and Rundgren (not their real names I imagine) take the stage and, as might have been expected, drunkenly sync their way through "Born to Run'. It's fun, they are charming and funny and the mood is perfect for me to take the stage. I hear the DJ call my name.

"And now, all the way from London, England, Miss Leanne Amy Ashley..."

I step up to the stage and take the mic, bobbing a little thankyou to the DJ. I take a moment to focus on Scott in the crowd and just as I do and just as the riff kicks in, my chosen song; Transvision Vamp's Baby I Don't Care starts with a crazy-girl howl...

then:

Well you can give me all your love, and anything else you got too

But don't pay it any mind if it seems like I'm acting cool

Well you can dress me in your mirror, give me kisses for ever and a day, yeah...

But there's just one thing, you don't have to say

You don't have to say you love me

You don't have to shed any tears

You don't have to say you love me Baby it's alright,

'cause honey I don't care...

It's the sexiest girl-song I could think off to sing for my my man and I don't know if he's heard it before and I don't know if he likes it but, judging from the look in his eyes as he watches me jump and strut and dance for him he likes this performance, and so does the rest of the audience. Not that I care about that, this is all for one guy. I finish my song and as I hear the DJ saying that he thought English girls were supposed to be reserved I walk down off the stage shaking hair from my eyes and glide on my heels right up to Scott...

"Take me home lover..." I purr and...

... it's hard to believe it but Scott picks me up, picks me up in his arms like a bride and carries me out of the club straight into a waiting cab and right back to my hotel. It seems take no time at all but I know that the cabby got a good show of a couple on the verge of explosion on his back seat. Back at the hotel we both know what's on the room-service menu. I am fresh and ready and the front of Scott's tight jeans is giving signals no girl could mistake. We get into my room and Scott is all around me, arms holding securely, lips kissing tenderly, hands running up and down my legs, fingers tracing seams and my knees are giving way and I'm almost entirely his...

"One tiny moment lover... and don't you dare undress, that pleasure I want for myself..."

I drag myself from him and into the bathroom where I have things lined up and ready. I have to work fast, I can't let the moment be lost. I unzip and drop my dress on the bathroom floor and shake out my hair and refresh my lips one last time...

In seconds I attach the suspenders to my basque and swap tights for stockings, same brand, same seams and then I slip back into my heels. I make sure I am fully, invisibly tucked in front and thoroughly slippery inside and so totally ready and then, in less than a minute I am back in the room, in my underwear, alone with the sexiest man I've ever been close to.

He is just so big... I strut across and he grabs we and we are kissing again, I suck hungrily on his tongue as he fills my mouth with his breath and my nose with his hot husky man-smell I run my hands over the rock-hard bulge behind the single layer of denim, it twitches and I hope he isn't too close to... I can only stand so much of this myself before my knees will give out on me... they do.

We are kissing, facing each other and I slide down the front of his body and find myself kneeling before him, in supplication. He has done so much for me, endured so much, been so restrained and gentlemanly, so patient... I reach up and, while one hand rubs and caresses the bulge the other puts it's red-tipped fingers on his zip and slowly pulls it down...

There is no need for any encouragement, Scott's cock springs out before me, it is firm and full and with it comes another blast of that wonderful man-funk. I lean forward and ever-so-gently tongue the drops of pre-cum from the tip, sweetly salt and so satisfying. I am literally trembling with desire and excitement. This is all I have wanted to do since we met just those few days ago. But the wait, as I knew it would, the anticipation has made it exquisite. I gently wrap my fingers around his balls and place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock before opening my mouth and taking him in. He thrusts forward, firm but gentle and I begin to make love to his cock.

Licking and nibbling, along the underside and around under the sensitive edge at the top. Gently, I want this to last, the taste, the sensation, the carpet on my nyloned knees and his belly-hair tickling my nose. Up and down, in and out, licking and tasting and knowing that this is where I belong. I am wet myself, dribbling into my knickers, so wet, I spare a hand to my own crotch for a second, just a second then it is back on Scott's legs, his buttocks, his balls... I feel them tighten, I get ready...

Scott makes a powerful, male noise, deep in his throat and then... I swallow, swallow, swallow... there is almost too much, I hope that there will be more but for now we are in unison, content, this makes us who we are, he is man and I am woman and this is heaven...

After an uncounted period of time I look up into Scott's eyes, his cock still in my mouth. He smiles down on me and then, from the pocket of his jacket, the jacket I dressed him in, he pulls the handcuffs...his turn to make demands...