Finding Her Heart in Portland - Sex Stories

Finding Her Heart in Portland

Finding Her Heart in Portland I sat there on my barstool, twiddling the straw in my drink, a fantastic blend of rum and fruit juices, wondering if I’d find anyone who caught my interest tonight. The hotel concierge had recommended this club, a secluded venue named Jolt, tucked into an out of the way Portland neighborhood. I loved my new dress, a form fitting bit in a deep and dark purple that clung to ever single curve I have. My blond hair tumbled down over my shoulders, straight flows that ended at my ample, braless breasts. I kept my make-up simple, purple eyeliner to make my grey-green eyes stand out. My stiletto heels, in a striking silver, brought my 5’2 form up to normal people height. I sipped at my drink watching the buff, though likely gay, bartender mix and shake drinks quickly and efficiently. The music was incredibly soothing, and arousing, changing from slow, sensual rhythms to fast, frantic pieces to keep the many dancers changing pace. I turned a bit on my stool to watch the people press their bodies against one another, and move to the music. And that is when she walked in. I didn’t know it yet, but her name is Leona. She was with a small group of women, I assumed her friends, as they entered the floor. She strode confidently on her gold heels, in a slinky green dress, high on the thigh that dipped low between her breasts, with a gold belt for adornment. Her dark brown curls sat beautifully upon her shoulders, accenting her lovely face. Her skin was a bit ...

... more kissed by the sun than my own, which made her all the more appealing to me. It seemed she was herding the group along, perhaps as their mother hen, so to speak. They all immediately came to the bar where two of them instantly fell into a fit of giggles as they spit out drink orders. Leona ordered a vodka tonic and sat down two stools from me, seemingly not noticing my gaze on her. I sipped at my drink as I swiveled back toward the bar, still watching her, waiting for her dark brown eyes to meet mine. When she was handed her drink, she finally noticed my gaze, meeting it with a smile. A hint of concern in her voice, a slight accent that seemed to match that of the natives, “What brings you here all alone?” I considered lying for a moment, but decided against it. In my own southern drawl, “The concierge recommended this club to me. I’m only in town for the weekend, and I wanted to have some fun.” She turned away as she heard her friends squealing at a faster paced song change, as they all fled to the dance floor. I was right; she was definitely the mother hen, the protector of the group. Turning back to me, a hand now directing my attention to her girlfriends on the floor, “As you can see, I was invited out for some fun too. What brings you to Portland then?” She sipped at her drink, me relishing the feel of her eyes on it as I responded, “Work, as usual. Let’s me travel a decent bit. Why aren’t you out there dancing with your friends?” She smiled, chuckling a bit, one of her ...