“Let me guess,” the bartender asked, setting the glass of water in front of me. “You’re here looking for some company.”

She stared at me expectantly, a slight smile on her glossy-pink lips. I smiled ruefully at her, taking a sip of the icy liquid. “Gee, what gave me away?” I meant it sarcastically, because anyone in the bar could see what I was after, especially another woman. The little black dress gave me away, one of those sparkly knit gowns that clung to every curve, just short enough to make you appreciate a hint of thigh and wonder just how far my legs went up. Or maybe it was the heels, best described as “fuck me” pumps in glossy black patent leather. Combined with the carefully arranged hair and the makeup, I made quite a package for some lucky male to pick up. Problem was, the bar seemed devoid of lucky men, save for a few older men who knew better than to press their luck.

The bartender shrugged and proceeded to polish some glasses while talking with me. “Well, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and I assume you’re here on business. So your partner isn’t here, and you’re looking for a little entertainment to pass a holiday that’s best not spent alone. Especially here in Las Vegas, the city of sin herself,” she laughed. I was amazed, because she really had hit my situation right on the nose. I was here to teach seminars to new real estate recruits, and was miles away from my husband. Not that being home on Valentine’s Day would have mattered anyway, because the bastard would probably be wooing his mistress on the side. Our marriage had deteriorated down to one simple fact: I wasn’t divorcing him because it would cost me too much hard-earned cash. So he played his field, and I played mine, and we basically put up with each other.

“Pretty much right,” I acknowledged, raising my water glass to her. “How’d you know?”

“Past experience,” she confided. “I was sitting in this very bar about three years ago for the same reason, and the bartender working then asked me the same thing.”

“And did you find what you were looking for?” I asked. She found this very funny, exploding in a sudden peal of laughter that had me raising my eyebrows. “Oh, I found it alright,” she grinned. “A nice little lass from the front desk took me home with her that night, and introduced me to a whole better ballgame.” I nearly choked on my water at her answer, staring at her with slight shock. This bartender really didn’t seem the lesbian stereotype. She wasn’t masculine in her features, and she didn’t seem like some of the feminist lesbians I’d known in college.

Her long reddish-blonde hair was pulled up in a loose ponytail, and her makeup was careful and elegant, not much more than a sweep of pink lip-gloss and rose-colored eyeshadow. She wore the standard bartender/waitress garb, a white button dress shirt and black slacks. The most masculine thing on her was her uniform bowtie, which sparkled with rhinestones. “Well,” I stammered, a blush rising to my cheeks. She knew her response had caught me off guard, and I struggled to regain my composure. “That’s….nice. Do you still see her often?”

“No, we went our separate ways a few months into it. Now the only person I pamper at nights is my cat, Patches.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Wish I could work up the will to do that with my husband.” She looked at me for a long moment, and I wondered what she was thinking behind those blue eyes. She moved over to the bar, and began mixing several different liquids together in a frosty glass. Coming back over, she plopped down in front of me. “Don’t worry, it’s not too strong. On the house.”

“Thanks,” I said. It smelled like limes, a heavenly scent, but before I could raise it to my lips she clapped a hand on my wrist. Her grip was warm, firm and strong. “Wait,” she smiled. “I forgot the important part.” She reached into a mini-refrigerator beneath the bar, and came up with a single whole cherry, scarlet against her white fingers. She twirled the stem between her thumb and forefinger so I could see it, then raised it up to her mouth and pressed her pink lips to the firm skin.

“For luck,” she grinned, plopping it in my drink. “Good luck with your manhunt. It’s time for my break.” Then she went in the back to fetch another bartender, and I was left alone. The drink was very good, hardly tasting of alcohol. I wondered what she’d put in it. Most of the Las Vegas men must have been elsewhere on that night, for no one even approached me as I drank. Somehow I wasn’t quite as concerned with that as I was thirty minutes previously.

Instead, I kept thinking about the bartender, and the way her pretty pink lips looked pressed against that red fruit. When I had totally drained the cup of liquid, I stared down at that round plump cherry resting on the crushed ice. I picked it up, and raised it to my mouth, biting into the flesh of the scarlet treat. It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn I tasted the faint hint of bubblegum lip-gloss as I devoured the fruit.

My nerves were shot for the next day, Valentine’s Day. Despite whatever I tried, I couldn’t shake the thought of the pretty bartender from my mind. I’d always considered myself a straight woman, but my blood burned every time I recalled that sassy smile and the gentle kiss she’d bestowed on that cherry. Would her lips be that tender on another woman’s, or would she play the aggressive, butch type? I thought about the swell of her breasts beneath that white shirt and brought my hands up to cup my own breasts. I was a considerable B-cup, and I wondered as I caressed myself if her chest would feel as soft and round as my own.

By mid-afternoon, I’d made my decision, and hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. I dressed differently, emboldened by my decision to seduce this woman. I wore a black skirt this time, made of loose folds of black silky material, and a red halter that held my braless breasts for best display. On second critical glance, I painted my lips red and added a splash of perfume.

There was no need for full makeup; my cheeks were already flushed from the excitement and my eyes were made bright by the red top. I fussed with my blonde hair for a moment, then headed down to the bar. As I had hoped, she was working, and the place was crammed with couples out for a drink. Still, she managed to wave me over, clearing a seat for me in the far corner of the bar as she pushed one of the overly-drunk into leaving. “Well, don’t you look nice tonight,” She smiled. “Find what you were looking for?”

“I hope so,” I breathed, staring into her blue, blue eyes. “That is, if you’re free after you get off of work.” Her face looked surprised for a moment, and she studied me to make sure it wasn’t a joke.

Finally she gently asked, “Are you sure you want that, hon? I don’t like to be led on and let down.”

“Why don’t you come to my room and find out?” I countered. I scribbled my room number on a napkin, and then pressed my mouth to the paper, leaving her a scarlet promise there to think about. Pushing it across to her, I smiled and saw her eyes grow warm as she returned the grin. I got up and left then, leaving her with much to anticipate, feeling her eyes burning on my back as I headed out of the bar. Back in my room, I spent the next few hours nervously preparing.

I changed out of my outfit into some exquisite lingerie, intended for seducing my partner of choice. Staring at the bathroom mirror, I wondered if she’d like it. It was black lace and satin, an open-cup teddy that made my pale breasts and nipples really stand out of the open circles. The crotch had a convenient snap that let you access my most intimate regions, and the garters held up matching satiny black thigh-highs.

I wore my black pumps from the night before, which lifted my buttocks and gave me a sexy, hip-swinging walk. I felt like I was floating on a high I’d never experienced before, and had never felt more feminine than I did at that moment. Around ten, there came a soft knock at my door. I threw a robe over my pretty lingerie and went to answer it. It was she, and she stood in the hallway with a smile pasted from ear to ear, drinking in the black satin robe I wore. She carried a bucket of ice with a bottle of good champagne already chilling inside, and some gold-wrapped package that was as of yet unidentified.

“I hope you’re ready for this,” she growled softly, “because you left me so wet while I was working that I had to excuse myself off to the ladies room for a little relief.” I took the ice bucket from her, moving to set it on my room’s end table as she let herself in the room and locked the door behind her. When I turned around, I found her already standing behind me, and the smile had left her face. She tilted my chin up, being the taller by a few inches, and kissed me.

Her mouth was so sweet I thought I’d die, exploring my lips like no man had ever done, kissing me with tongue sweeps and teeth and soft lips. Her lipstick tasted like bubblegum, and I felt an arrow of pleasure spear straight to my belly, making my nether regions full and heavy and tingling with anticipation. “Jesus,” I swore when we parted for breath. “I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

“Oh, believe me, there’s much more I can’t wait to show you,” She crooned. “But first, get me out of these work clothes.” My hands came up, working the buttons on her blouse with trembling fingers. I noticed for the first time her shiny brass name badge that read “Sabrina” and murmured that name gently, rolling it over my lips. Sabrina chuckled.

“That’s right. What’s your name anyways, little flower?” I told her and she purred her approval. My undressing didn’t go as fast as she liked, and she swatted my hands away, finishing the job herself. Stepping out of the heels she wore, she made short work of the shirt and the slacks, leaving her standing in a simple white bra and thong. Her breasts were larger than mine, nearly a D-cup on sight estimation, and she wasn’t a slender girl, which turned me on greatly.

I feasted on her as she peeled away the bra, exposing those plump pale mounds with their pink pretty nipples, already hard for my mouth to lavish. Her waist tapered in, flaring out into soft hips and a belly that wasn’t rock-hard but soft and slightly pouting. Her thighs were full and muscled, her calves well shaped as she skimmed the thong down over them to pool at her feet. Sabrina bore a thatch of pubic hair the same reddish-gold shade as her hair, and it stood out in contrast to her white skin. My mouth went dry at her perfection, and I reached my palms out to cup her breasts but she stopped me.

“Robe off,” she ordered, and when I dropped it she smiled at my lingerie. “Oooh, I like that,” she moaned.

“I have a surprise for you, my valentine.” She moved over and claimed the small gold box she had plunked on the table. “Lie on the bed,” Sabrina asked, and as I lay flat on my back, she climbed on with me. I felt strangely vulnerable under her gaze, even though she was the one naked and I was the one clothed. She opened the box, and tossed the top to the hotel room floor. Inside were several dark chocolates.

Pulling one from the box, Sabrina lifted it to her lips and sunk her teeth into the sweet. She turned the half-exposed chocolate to me, and I saw the inside was hollow, filled with pureed cherries.

“Chocolate-covered cherries,” she smiled, savoring the half bite of the chocolate. “My favorite.” Taking the other half in her teeth, she bent her head and offered it to me from her mouth. Eating the treat from her full lips was erotic, the red dripping center flowing over our lips and tongues as we half-kissed, half-nibbled it down. When the flavor was gone from our mouths, she selected another, breaking it open with her fingers.

“You are my new favorite cherry,” Sabrina murmured, and I felt with surprise her hands rubbing the sticky center over my exposed nipples and breasts. When she bent her head to eat it from my flesh, I couldn’t hold back my sighs of approval. Her mouth was warm, heated as her flesh was, sucking and licking the food from my body until I was writhing under her mouth, swearing to gods I never believed in. I buried my fingers in her long hair, freeing it from her trademark ponytail to flow around her pale shoulders. The silky strands spread over the black teddy as she suckled my breasts, using three chocolates to tease and torment me until I was begging her to move lower, pushing at the top of her head. I was a waterfall between my thighs, my nether lips swollen and waiting for her kisses and caresses.

If Sabrina didn’t taste me soon, I’d die from the sweet sting of her skillful foreplay. She obliged my requests and begs, chuckling as she pulled the snaps of my teddy open. I was on fire, my breasts exposed and now my pussy, the exposure of my tender flesh wrenching a cry from my throat. Sabrina blew lightly on the dampness that clung to my pink slit, and I bucked my hips under the sensation. I needed her mouth on me, working me towards that little death that my loins craved more than anything else.

Instead, she ran a playful finger over the wet sticky evidence of my need and brought it to her lips, looking me in the eyes as she sucked it clean. A shudder ran through my body. “Sabrina, please,” I begged. “Give it to me.”

“The last cherry,” she said instead, ignoring my pleas, pulling it free from the box. Holding it up for me to see, she popped it her mouth for a moment to soften the chocolate. Then to my great surprise, she pulled it out again, and smiled. “You want this?”

“I want you…”

“You’ll have me,” she promised, and without warning, she brought the chocolate down to my sex. She ran it in circles over my hardened clit, teasing that little red marble into a panic frenzy, until I was raising my hips off the bed and nearly screaming with frustration. Sabrina snapped the coating open, and I felt the oozing center running down the outer lips of my sex and over the folds. “Oh my GOD!” I moaned, as she pushed the crumbled chocolate into my warm wet depths with two fingers. “Yummy,” she announced, and bent her head.

I felt the tickle of her hair on my thighs, but it was nothing compared to the first moment I felt her tongue on my pussy, licking away the combination of cherries and my own personal lubrication. I think I was calling her name, humping her face out of control while she cleaned me of her chocolate plaything. She spread me open with two fingers, and I felt her mouth and tongue pulling the chocolate bits from my hot slit. “Sabrina,” I whimpered, and then I felt the coil burning, urging me into the tempest of my orgasm. She felt my clit harden to bursting, knew I was going to explode from her eating me, and brought me to the edge by flicking her tongue in rapid and quick strokes over the wet button.

Before I could find my personal release, she stopped, and moved up to kiss me, letting me lick my own scent and taste from her mouth and chin. “Are you ready, little baby?” She crooned, and when I moaned she reached down and lightly pinched that little hooded bud. Feasting on my mouth as I fucked her hand, Sabrina swallowed my screams as I writhed under her, my pussy spasming again and again like a hungry mouth swallowing my pleasure. It was the hardest orgasm I’d ever felt, and it left me covered in a sheen of sweat. I was still pulsing with the aftershocks when I turned the tables, rising up and pushing her back to the rumpled covers. She was pliant, letting me explore her body with my virgin mouth, cupping her full breasts for my tongue to tease and groaning when I found the points she liked best.

“Do it,” she whispered. “Lick me.” And for the first time, I tasted another woman, delving my nose and mouth against that salty-sweet sex. I ate her with abandon, trying my best to copy the skillful strokes she had done to me, reveling in the feel of her hips rising to press tighter against my sucking mouth. She had a big pussy, engulfing most of my fingers as I plunged them in and out, sucking on her clit like a vacuum. Sabrina was beautiful when she came, her fingers fisting into the covers helplessly, every muscle in her legs and abdomen quivering with the shock of the orgasm that racked her beautiful body.

She flooded my face with her pleasure, the juices coating my face, and I felt my body reacting without being touched, felt a second orgasm screaming through my loins with all the force of a subway train hitting a wall. We drank the champagne and explored much that night, until falling asleep exhausted in each other’s arms, soft woman pressed against soft woman. I’d never been that contented, dozing against the hot weight of her breasts, waking up to claim her one last time before I relinquished her to the job she had to return to.

My husband doesn’t know, but since then I’ve made preparations to leave him. I don’t care about the money anymore. All I know is next Valentine’s Day, I know where I want to be: at Sabrina’s home, bearing a bottle of champagne and the chocolates she loves. After all, a cherry can be a girl’s best friend.