Natasha met Felicia on the corner by the nicer cafe. She felt a little self-conscious as she approached, given her compliance with Felicia’s dare. She was sure Felicia had just been joking, but Natasha could play that game. It was childish, really, but something about wearing a skirt without underwear just felt so fundamentally erotic.
Felicia’s face brightened when she spied Natasha across the road. Natasha grinned back mischievously, one hand firmly flattening the side of her skirt, a precaution against sudden spring breezes.
They entered the cafe and ordered, taking a seat in the back booth. Felicia kissed Natasha, a small amount of tongue on her upper lip reminding Natasha of her mostly bare lower half. Felicia pulled away.
“Did you hear about Terrence?”
“No… what?” Caught off guard by the segue, Natasha squirmed in her seat as the cold vinyl stuck to the backs of her legs.
“He got fired! Can you believe it? He actually got himself fired from the one place no one could get fired from, the git—”
“Two hot chocolates. One with whipped cream?” A waiter approached bearing two tall mugs.
“Yes, whipped cream, please,” Natasha said. She stirred the cream as Felicia divulged the rest of the gossip. Something about weed-but-it-must-have-been-worse-than-weed.
As Felicia talked, she moved closer and put her hand on Natasha’s knee. Natasha felt a twinge between her legs.
“So… Did you do it?” Felicia grinned with lascivious parody. Natasha knew exactly what she was talking about. She allowed her knees to fall apart, nudging into Felicia’s leg.
“Why don’t you see for yourself?”
“Okay then.” With a quick motion, Felicia lifted Natasha’s skirt right back, revealing her bare mound and cleft. Natasha gasped and all but pounced on Felicia, wrestling her skirt back down while laughing.
“You did say see for yourself,” Felicia held up her hands in mock surrender.
“Fine. We’re clearly both very childish, and I concede you win the Most Childish Award. Can we drink our hot chocolates now, please?” Felicia chuckled some more, but took a smug sip of her drink.
They drank mostly in silence, both eager to leave the cafe and find somewhere a little more secluded. Natasha could feel the damp growing between her legs and hoped it wouldn’t show through her skirt. Felicia finished her drink first, then watched Natasha drink hers.
She fiddled with the hem of Natasha’s skirt, tugging it up a few inches, then a few inches more. It was a game of chicken, but Natasha didn’t care. She let Felicia pull her skirt up until it was almost at the top of her thigh.
“That’s far enough.” Natasha smiled as Felicia pouted. “Just a little more…?”
Natasha paused for a count of ten.
“Okay.”
Felicia carefully folded Natasha’s skirt back until the lips of her labia were visible once more. Natasha kept an eye out for the waiter, but Felicia only had eyes for Natasha.
Suddenly, Felicia ducked beneath the table.
She clasped Natasha’s knees as Natasha looked down at her.
“May I?”
Natasha hesitated, sweeping a final glance at the waiter on the other side of the room, and then nodded.
As Natasha settled back further in the chair, Felicia pulled Natasha’s knees apart and pressed her tongue into her cleft. Her tongue flicked light and fast over Natasha’s clitoris, and she stifled a moan. Felicia felt amazing, the warmth of her body between her legs, her clear experience with oral sex.
Natasha soon found herself close to orgasm and fought to remain quiet, to keep her face neutral in case of public attention. Natasha hunched forward, resting her elbows on the table, biting down on her knuckles as Felicia increased her pace, yet kept the pressure feather light.
Natasha shuddered as she climaxed, Felicia drawing out the orgasm with a few well-applied licks. Felicia re-emerged as Natasha struggled to catch her breath. She was worried her flushed face gave her away as the waiter finally approached to clear away their mugs, but he said nothing.
“Shall we get out of here?”
“Sure. Let’s just wait ’til I can stand.” Felicia laughed.
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