Jelena Meets Jodi Ch. 02


At the bar with Jelena. As the title suggests this is chapter 2. If you’d like a little better idea about Jelena perhaps you should read Jelena Meets Jodi where Jelena is introduced.


Inside the club it was dark, but not so dark that I couldn’t easily check out the available pussy! I feel it’s a skill and I’m good at it. Any bar is going to have a selection of pussy. And especially, of course, an out-and-out lesbian bar! The trick is to spot the girls that are available for pick-up. There are always unavailable girls. Girls with girl-friends, girls obviously in love, and, heaven forbid, straight girls. And, of course, girls that just plain don’t attract you. Or, just maybe, dear, you aren’t attractive to them!

There are those that advocate leaving no stone unturned. Their attitude is: come on to enough chicks and, sooner or later, one of them is bound to say ‘yes’! As the old saying goes: knock on enough doors and one is bound to open!

But, I say, why waste the time? Oh, sure. Sometimes when I am bored, just for the challenge, I’ll come on to a chick I feel isn’t really available, just to see. And I admit there have been times I’ve been wrong. That is, pleasantly surprised when we ended up in the sack. But generally I prefer to scope out the room and pick out the attractive girls I think might be available. Like I say, it’s a skill and I’m good at it!

Tonight, I really didn’t care much because I can feel Nyomi’s hot number heavy in my purse!

I saw some friends, some ex-bedmates who I was certain would be hitting on me before the night was out. Tough. I’d already made up my mind that there would be no return bouts tonight! Either I scooped some new pussy here or I was phoning the delectable Nyomi! Something told me that black cabbie, once you had her in bed, could give a girl a real ride!

After wandering a bit, checking out the action, I went to the bar and took a seat.

The bartender was Darlene, a stacked red-head. I ordered and smiled, watching her trying not to drool over me.

Darlene and I had a week-ender a month or so back. She was pleasant enough and great in the sack. She must have been! I’d brought her home Friday night and kept her over ’til Sunday! I lost track of the number of times she rang my bell! Now, she was always swinging her tits for me and dropping hints she’d like more of my kind of action. I took a sip of my scotch and considered. She was good enough pussy-fun that I was sure we’d do round two someday. But, sorry Darlene, not tonight.

Just then, the bar momentarily got brighter as the door opened and a whole group of women entered. Laughing and talking. Some holding hands.

They all looked good enough to eat (sorry!) but pretty obviously they were a group of couples. As I stated earlier, breaking up a couple is not impossible, if you have the right assets, as I do. The looks. The confidence. But it’s not my scene. Just because I don’t dig the one-chick scene doesn’t mean I look down on those that do. It takes all kinds, right? And I’m not so jaded that, even though I’m not looking for it, I will deny there is such a thing as love in this world. And while never having experienced love, to my knowledge, enough girls rave about it that I wasn’t about to sneer at it. I’d had many girls profess their love for me. Although I’m fairly certain they were confusing love with the mind-blowing cums I had given them. Some girls just can’t seem to separate the two!

Oh yes. Love. My limited understanding of that emotion goes something like this. You really care about another girl, about her welfare, how she’s feeling, you miss her when she’s not around. You’re not just hooked on how she can make your toe-nails curl when she’s down there showing off her pussy-skills!

Question: Can you ever really love any girl who can’t make your toe-nails curl?

Trouble is, from what I know about love, it has good things going for it maybe, but I’ve also seen its major down-sides. It’s never happened to me, of course, but I’ve observed friends fall to pieces when the object of their ‘love’ didn’t return that love and moved on to some new pussy! I’ve seen some take years to recover. With all the available pussy around, I just never understood it.

Love, when it’s not returned, can be worse than no love at all! At least in this girl’s opinion. How’s that for one-sip-of-scotch-philosophy?

Que sera, sera, right? You can’t have all the girls in the world and, really, what would you do with them if you did get them? There simply wouldn’t be enough time!

Something about this new table full of chicks kept drawing my attention. Trying hard not to be obvious, I kept glancing over. Something made me take a head-count — counting tits and dividing by 2 is more fun! – and I realized there was an odd number. That meant they weren’t all couples! Unless there was a three-some scene in there somewhere!

Checking further, without obviously staring, I realized at the end of the table casino oyna was sitting an older woman, much older than the rest. She looked almost regal sitting there quietly, observing the rest and their festivities. It occurred to me that perhaps this table of pussy was a bachlorette party of some sort and this lady was the mother of one of the girls. Something about her kept my attention. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Oh, sure. For an older lady she was great-looking. I tried to judge her age and gave up. 50, for sure, maybe more. But these days with all the reconstructive, cosmetic surgery, titty implants, age-old stuff like hair dye, who could really tell anymore?

She was quiet compared to the rest of the girls but she was drinking, sipping wine, and she did join in on the chatter also. Even when she was giggling with the other girls she had a quiet dignity about her.

Then the DJ started playing some music and the table emptied as the whole group headed for the dance floor, including my mystery lady.

While they danced it was easy to observe her. She was tall, almost 6 feet. Her hair was jet-black although I thought I could spot hints of grey. She had an outstanding bosom, a lovely pair, partially on display due to a low cut bodice on the classy, shimmering evening gown she was wearing. It hugged her bottom tightly, then flared out to a long skirt, well down her legs. I could plainly see she had an delectable ass!

Fuck, Jelena! What are you doing? A bar full of young pussy. A horny bartender with big tits just begging to be asked to go home with you. A hot cabbie’s number in your purse that she practically pleaded for you to use and you, knucklehead, keep checking out some over-the-hill babe who’s probably just in this bar to be with her lesbian daughter. A babe conservatively 25 years older than any pussy you’ve ever bedded! A woman, who, if she is indeed the mother of one of the group of chicks she’s with, is probably straight!

After giving myself this talking-to, I determinedly turned back to talk to Darlene. She was busy but not too busy to plant her tits right in my face and make sure to shrug her shoulders to some question just to make them bounce a little for me! I gotta admit, she made my mouth water — just a little! But, as I’ve told you, tonight I was determined to sample something new! Also, Darlene’s determined and obvious persistence on wrangling an invitation back to my bed was getting on my nerves.

Fuck it! I’m going out on the sidewalk, where it’s a little quieter and phone Nyomi!

I stood.

“Hey, doll,” Darlene called. “You aren’t leaving yet, are you? You haven’t finished your scotch.”

“I’ll be back,” I called over my shoulder. I couldn’t help it. I checked out the dance floor as I walked to the door. Mystery lady was still dancing, looking curiously not-so-out-of-place on a dance floor full of young pussy. And she was looking at me! Her eyes followed me. In fact, I could feel her eyes boring into me! The corners of her pretty, generous mouth curled up slightly in what was the start of a smile.

I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it! This old lady was checking me out! The hottest girl in the place! As if she had a chance! And why was there a shiver working its way up my spine?

I got outside! Fuck! Was she getting to me? Why? My hands were actually trembling. I could feel my pussy throbbing, maybe even leaking a little! What the fuck! I fumbled in my purse for my phone and Nyomi’s number. I thought I needed a cigarette!

Before I could get my phone out or Nyomi’s number or my cigarettes, I heard a low, throaty, sexy yet almost musical voice come from behind me. “Excuse me, dear,”

I turned and, of course, it was mystery lady herself.

Up close, here under the street-light, she was stunning!

Not stunning, like I was stunning. You know, deliberately sexy, provocatively dressed, come-to-momma pussy-girls, stunning.

No! She was just standing there, calm and quiet and classy-looking. Her black hair was shimmering in the light from the street lamp but she really was doing nothing. Just standing there. Sure. She had big tits! I could see their creamy upper slopes and they looked smooth and kissable. But she wasn’t dressed provocatively, as I was. She was more elegant and she was just there. And she was stunning! Oh, did I say that, already? Can you tell I was rattled? Over 50, perhaps closer to 60, my guess, but drop-dead gorgeous and, without even trying, peel-off-my-jeans-please, sexy! The throbbing in my pussy revved up to over-drive!

O.K. Full disclosure. I’ll admit it. I’m 28. And the oldest girl I’ve ever bedded was 32. I’d thought I was sorta slumming when I did that one night. I had too many scotches, she was quite sexy and I gotta admit she’d been a tiger in the sack. My one experience with a lady older than myself.

But, now, remind me who I am, please, me, Jelena, lesbian player, who always does the picking, was panting like an inexperienced slot oyna school girl! Please, God, don’t let her notice! And while we hadn’t even exchanged a word, leastways I hadn’t spoken yet, I was ready to drop my laundry right there on the sidewalk!

As I turned, she moved boldly a little closer.

“Can I help you?” I asked, relieved my voice was steady. I hadn’t been sure it would be!

“I couldn’t help but notice you inside, dear,” she spoke in that sultry voice. “When I saw you leaving I was disappointed. You’re the best eye-candy here tonight.” She smiled warmly. “But you know that, don’t you, dear? Lots of young girls cream their panties for you, don’t they, dear? And you have your pick of them, don’t you, dear? Any pussy you want!”

I chuckle, a little confidence returning. Where had it been? “The name’s Jelena, ma’am, and yes, I am a dear,” I tell her. I made a point of studying her, up and down. I see her smile. “And yes, I do all right, ma’am.”

Her smiles broadens. She moves confidently even closer. She wrinkles her nose as if she’s tasted something bad she doesn’t like. “Ma’am? My name is Jodi, Jelena. I may be old enough to be your mother,” she touches a finger to my lips, “No, don’t say grand-mother, Jelena. I’m apologizing. Calling you ‘dear’ sounds condescending, I know. And I really prefer not be called ‘ma’am’. So if you agree to just call me Jodi, I’ll refrain from ‘dearing’ you. Deal?’

“Sorry,” I say, trying to compose myself. “Is there something you wanted, Jodi?”

“Just curious, Jelena. Perhaps I’m wrong, but I think I know your type. My daughter’s here tonight celebrating her engagement with her girlfriend. But, if you could, you would walk out of here with her and take her home with you, without a second thought, wouldn’t you, Jelena?”

I took a deep breath. Calm, Jelena, calm. Tell that to my pussy that has settled into a deep, vibrating, wet ache.

I try for some nonchalance. “I do all right,” I repeat. “Pussy is easy to come by for me. But you do me an injustice, Jodi. In fact, before you and your group came in, I was just reflecting at the bar that I don’t knowingly tempt any pussy that I know is involved.”

I shrug and I see her eyes leave my eyes for just a split second to enjoy the mouth-watering sight of my titties jiggling under the yellow halter-top.

I continue, “I don’t have to go for other girls girlfriends. There is always plenty of unattached, horny pussy ready to party with a girl like me. What about you, Jodi? What is it you want? Why, when you obviously don’t approve of me, are you out here on the sidewalk with me?”

“What do I want? I want you,” she said matter-of-factly. “But that was a rhetorical question, was it not? You know I want you, don’t you, Jelena? You noticed me checking you out inside. I guess I was fairly obvious. Darn. I try not to be. But you’re used to women checking you out, aren’t you, Jelena? You saw the group I’m with. My daughter and her girlfriend and their friends. I’ll say it before you do. Yes. I am old enough to be grandmother to some of them! You can see I’m way past my ‘best before’ date! I just thought you might be up for something a little different than the usual young babe I’m sure you take home with you. But, even if you’re not, I’m certain you’ll be a better conversationalist and better dancer than the young stuff I’m with. Why don’t you come back inside? With me. I’ll join you at the bar and we can talk and get to know one another a little better? I promise I’ll withdraw immediately if some object of lust for you appears.”

I was intrigued by her, as I guess I had been since first laying eyes on her. But it was more than that. This approach of hers, if it was an approach, an attempt at a pick-up, was certainly different. I was confused. Me! But I gotta admit, I wanted to know more about her. Hell, I wanted to kiss her. What was going on? I was feeling those familiar twinges in my pussy about a much older woman, a first for me. A fairly strange, much older woman! Sure, except for her age, she was sorta my type, tall and confident about herself, but, damn, she was old.

“Sure,” I said, casually, “I came out to make a phone call but, fuck it, let’s go back inside, Jodi. Together.” I didn’t say it out loud but I was thinking, ‘I could use a slug of my scotch!’

“Jodi,” she repeated, “I like the sound of my name when you say it, girl!” She linked her arm in mine as we turned and together we made our way back inside the bar and she proceeded to sit beside me. Her attitude was as if she belonged there! Like it was her place!

Darlene almost choked when she saw Jodi sitting with me. Both, I expect, because she could see herself being written off before her very eyes and, for seconds, she had never, no one had ever, seen me cozying up to an old cougar like Jodi! I could see that certain look in her eyes as she came to ask Jodi what she wanted to drink. My scotch was still sitting there and I took a grateful sip. Without canlı casino siteleri her saying a word, I could sense Darlene’s mood. Smoldering anger combined with deep disappointment. Oh, well. She hadn’t been in the running for pussy-privileges tonight anyway.

As Jodi received her drink and we drank and chatted about everything and nothing, she kept her hand lightly on my arm. At least, I am sure she thought her fingers were resting lightly. To me, her touch was burning on my flesh. Me, usually always in control, found myself giggling like a schoolgirl at every witticism. I was certain I was making a fool of myself.

At last the music started up again. “Will you dance with me, Jelena?” Jodi asked, softly.

Talk about a rhetorical question! I took my last sip of scotch, stood and Jodi took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

The music was fast and we gyrated, fairly close together but not touching. Jodi pointed out her daughter and her girlfriend dancing close by. The daughter was pretty but not in her mother’s class. Both daughter and girlfriend nodded approvingly when they appraised Jodi’s dancing partner. Little ole me!

But little ole me was still a bit mystified. Normally, I would have picked out a pussy-partner by now and made my play. Tonight, it seems I have been beaten to the punch. I’m the one who’s been picked and Jodi is making her play. And very well!

And I’ve long since made the decision that Jodi’s play is gonna be successful! Whatever it is, maybe just pure curiosity, I know I want Jodi in my bed tonight! Or me in hers! I don’t care! In fact I want to be in bed with Jodi more than I’ve ever wanted any other pussy! Does she know it? Does she know, at least for the moment, she has tamed the predator? Does she know, is she certain or still just hoping, that she will soon be in bed with me? Something in her easy, confident, manner and grace tell me she does.

Then the music changed. Slow, romantic music filled the room. I was literally shaking as I made a move to step forward and take Jodi in my arms.

Too late! As with everything else tonight, things were upside down. Jodi was way ahead of me. She stepped forward first and without even knowing it, I was where I guess I had wanted to be all night long. In Jodi’s warm embrace.

We had a light-hearted moment when we had to adjust our racks to fit together comfortably. My heels put me at nearly the same height as Jodi and we were literally tit to tit. Given the size of our boobs, Jodi would have had a hard time holding me until we oozed our bodies around a little and got our boobs fitted and snuggled nicely together so Jodi could pull me close to her. Very close! I allowed her to pull me in next to her very willingly!

Usually, when slow-dancing with a chick, I take the lead. Again, not tonight! Jodi had me in her grip and it was a warm, confident embrace. She held me tight. She moved, I followed. She took my body anywhere she wanted on that dance floor. I found I was wrong when I opened my eyes, but for a time I thought it was just her and me!

Her hands were gliding up and down my back, drawing shivers from me. It felt so damn good! I wanted those strong hands to go down and fondle my ass, but they didn’t. Instead, one hand went up and tangled in my hair, holding the back of my head.

Jodi, her hot mouth touching my ear, through my hair, whispered quietly, “Damn, you feel good, girl!” Then I felt her move my hair and those lips of her’s slid slightly and kissed my neck! My skin burned when her lips touched me!

My head by now was lying on Jodi’s shoulder, our bodies were mashed tightly together, moving together as one, guided by Jodi, meshed as cogs in a well-oiled machine.

I couldn’t swear to it but I’m pretty sure I felt Jodi nod at the DJ. Accordingly, the soft, slow, romantic music continued from one song to the next ’til I lost track. Jodi continued to hold me closely, one hand now squarely in the middle of my back, the other stroking my hair as my head lay on her shoulder. We were all alone. Leastways, I was alone with Jodi. I desperately wanted her to kiss me but outside of her lips occasionally brushing my neck with warm heat, Jodi was denying me! Me!

I almost had enough strength of will left to lift my head and kiss her but somehow I couldn’t. She had me spell-bound and finally the music trailed off — I barely noticed — and I heard Jodi whisper in my ear, “Come, my pet, come with Jodi.”

She took my hand and led me from the dance floor. One quick trip to the bar to retrieve my purse then a moments pause at her daughter’s table for Jodi to pick up her bag. I was introduced. I managed a weak smile and then Jodi said to her daughter, “Have fun the rest of the night, honey. I’m leaving with Jelena now. I’ll see you soon.”

Jodi blew a kiss to the table and I saw more than one pretty young face admiring me and clearly envying her. Jodi cuddled me in close to her as if to emphasize her success at being able to leave the bar with clearly the foxiest pussy in the house! It was as if she was saying, ‘I know you young things think I’m over-the-hill, but there may be some coals in the fireplace yet! Look what I got!’

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