Out of My Shell

A one shot story

Notes:

– This story includes two characters, both of whom are 18+

– This is a queer story that takes place during the 1980’s

– This story includes drunken sex. People cannot consent while under the influence, this story is purely fantasy

The nightlife of New York City’s red-light district was quite a spectacle to behold. Neon lights flooded the streets that were packed with people from all walks of life coming and going to and from wherever they’d be shunned for attending in their day life. In this part of the city, at this time of night, nobody cared who you were, just that you were having a good time. Tonight I was heading out to meet with friends.

I walked over to the 3rd building on the left of Baker Avenue that had a small, lit up sign on the wall reading “Cassy’s Past Evening”. On the sign was an arrow pointing to a staircase that led into the building’s basement from the outside. I dug a piece of paper out from my coat pocket that read ‘Cassy’s, yellow brick building with basement stairs’. This was definitely the place.

I descended the stairs and opened the rather heavy metal door that led into a hallway. It was pretty dingy and poorly lit, but the old velvet carpet that lined the floor drew me further in. The further I walked down the long hall, the louder the blaring club music became. As I finally reached the end of the hall and passed through the doorway that was adorned with tassels, I emerged into a large basement bar. Multicolored lights that hung from the ceiling illuminated the sea of women that occupied the room, socializing and/or dancing to the synth-pop music that played through the speakers. I could see all kinds of women populating the crowd, everyone from traditional-looking ladies wearing modest dresses to short-haired dykes in leather jackets and combat boots. I felt underdressed, only wearing a blouse and jeans.

As my eyes scanned over the large room, my sight landed on the bar in the corner. I scooched past multiple groups of women as I made my way across the floor. As I moved across the room I bumped into multiple women who weren’t looking where they were dancing, whether it was because they were drunk from the alcohol, or simply drunk from the freedom of the night life.

A bit of relief washed over me as I made my way into the clearing of the bar, I wasn’t at all used to the intensity of such a large crowd. When I’d normally have spent the evening reading in my dorm room, I allowed my friends to convince me to open up a bit. After all, I had no chance of ever meeting another gay woman if I didn’t reach out in queer spaces. Speaking of, where were my friends? I stood by the bar as I continued to look over the room, trying to spot any of them to no avail. I turned around and flagged down the bartender, she was a pretty woman who wore a very dapper suit.

“Excuse me, sorry to bother, do you have the time?” I asked. The bartender looked down at her wristwatch.

“12:47” She told me before walking off to serve someone their drink.

“Shit…” I muttered. We were all supposed to be here by 12:30, where were they?

Despite how antsy I felt, I decided to take a seat at the bar while I waited for my 2 friends to show up. I sat patiently, but as the minutes dragged on and I continued looking over the crowd of people, my anxiety continued to grow. I was a fish out of water here, I would’ve never came here on my own, I was really relying on my friends to help me out. Was something holding them up? Did they forget? Was I just being stood up…?

Eventually my anxiety started turning into sadness. This is what I get for trying to put myself out there, abandoned. I sighed as I leaned against the bar, looking wistfully into the ocean of queer women that were all having a better time than I was. I began to zone out as I wondered what my plans would be now that my friends failed to show up. Was there any point in trying to salvage the night, or should I just call it quits and go home? I was suddenly snapped out of my funk when I felt an unexpected touch on my shoulder, causing me to jump a bit. Turning around, I saw the bartender placing a drink down next to me.

“The lady at the end of the bar bought you this drink. Enjoy.” She told me before walking off to attend to other patrons.

My hopes perked up as I leaned over the counter, trying to spot my friends on the other end of the bar. Those hopes were quickly dashed as I only saw a stranger smiling at me. Confused, I pointed at myself with the raise of an eyebrow. The mysterious woman simply nodded her head and beckoned me to come over. I sunk back down in my seat, debating in my head what I should do next. For the most part I just wanted to go home and sulk about getting stood up by my friends, but the curiosity over the generosity of a complete stranger won me over. I decided to grab the glass that had been given to me and get out of my seat for the first time in who knows how long, squeezing through groups of women as I made my way down to the other end of the bar. As I emerged from the crowd I saw the mystery woman who had beckoned me over. She smiled as she reached over and removed her bag from the seat next to her, prompting me to sit down. I cautiously took the seat next to her, placing my drink down on the counter.

I was never one to ogle, but this woman was drop-dead gorgeous. She was sitting down, but I could tell that she was a fair bit taller than me, she had pretty, poofy black hair and wore a red dress that hugged the curves of her body. She seemed to really know how to put herself together.

“Uhm, thanks for the drink…” I said as I awkwardly fidgeted with my hands.

“Of course, darling. ” She said in a surprisingly deep yet warm voice. “I saw you across the bar all on your lonesome and thought you might need a pal to keep you company.” She explained, her tone was compassionate with a hint of teasing.

“I- uh, yeah, well, I just was gonna meet some friends here, but they had to cancel. Y’know, stuff came up!” I partially lied, trying to make myself look a bit less pathetic.

“Mmhmmmm.” She muttered, I feel like she might’ve been able to see through my fib. “You know, I’ve never seen you around here before. What’s your name?”

“Dawn.” I lied.

“Well, Dawn darling, that’s a beautiful name.” She said with a warm smile. “Why don’t you have some of your drink, you like wine, don’t you?”

“Of course!” I exclaimed, lying again. I don’t drink, after all drinking is mostly a social activity.

I picked up the wine glass and held it to my lips. Without thinking I took and swallowed a full sip of the drink. The sudden, overwhelming taste of alcohol hit me like a jab to the gut. I lowered the glass a bit, moving slowly as I processed the taste and feeling of the alcohol that just passed through my mouth. I sat there in silence, trying as hard as possible to keep a straight face as the feeling passed. I must’ve not been doing a great job at hiding my shock as the woman started laughing.

“I- uhm, never had that particular drink before, that, uh, seems to be a pretty interesting drink.” I stumbled on my own words while both trying to play off my absolute amateurness as well as keeping my face from scrunching up due to the sour bitterness of the drink.

“It’s just red wine, darling.” She said between laughs. My face must’ve been flushed red from embarrassment. “You don’t actually drink, do you?”

“No…” I muttered in defeat. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Very!” She exclaimed with a little snort. I gotta admit, despite how embarrassed and humiliated I felt, her laugh was very cute… “My name’s Maya by the way, it’s great to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” I said before raising my glass again and taking another sip, trying to get used to the taste.

“Don’t worry darling, you’ll acquire the taste eventually.” She reassured me before scooching her stool a bit closer to mine. “Now, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

The next while went extremely well. Maya and I chatted about each other, where we work, what kind of hobbies we have, how we realized we were gay, etc. With the encouragement of Maya I gradually made continued progress on my drink. Over time the bitter taste of the alcohol became less and less bothersome to me, although I couldn’t tell if it was because I was acquiring the taste or because my senses were getting dulled as I got more intoxicated.

As 1 drink turned to 2 and eventually 3, the topic of conversation became more devious in nature. Our sex lives, experiences, turn-ons and kinks. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I felt weirdly comfortable opening up to this beautiful woman about such sensitive matters, things that I would never have even told my closest friends. Over time her body inched closer and closer to mine as she moved her seat over, with her hand eventually landing on my leg. Her voice became more seductive, more sultry. I’ve never gotten this kind of attention from a woman before, I was loving every single moment of it. Eventually, though, I couldn’t take anymore of the tension.

“I- uh- I’ve been drinking a lot, I really gotta go take a piss!” I very bluntly said, excusing myself from the bar before she had the opportunity to say anything.

I rushed over to the restrooms, both of them had a female sign next to them. Cute. I chose the one on the left and stumbled in, it was pretty small and confined, only having 3 stalls and 3 sinks. It had one, small window near the ceiling that was frosted black, giving the restroom a very confined and private feeling. Without much forethought, I quickly pushed in each of the 3 stall doors to check that nobody else was in the room with me. Thank god they were all empty, or else I would’ve had some explaining to do. In my drunken state I hadn’t even thought to choose the privacy of a stall as I struggled to undo my belt and pull down my jeans before shoving my hand down the front of my panties. I felt how wet I had become over the past however long, I realized just how badly I needed to take care of myself.