My queer friend Terry was forever teasing me about his effortless sexual exploits. As a bisexual woman who leaned more toward the ladies, I wasn’t terribly envious about his gay cock-tales. But I was jealous about how he could quickly find sex partners of the anonymous variety just about anywhere and anytime.

He implied woman-on-woman relations took longer to develop, involved intermediary steps and were generally more labor intensive.

OK, maybe he had a point. When I thought back on my own sexual history, it seemed I could get a guy in bed with little more than a few flirtatious words. My female lovers, on the other hand — well, yeah, there hadn’t been a whole lot of the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of sex.

I brooded on this. I knew Terry wasn’t deliberately being a jerk to me. We had a longstanding brotherly/sisterly friendship that I wouldn’t have traded for the world. He’d had my back plenty of times, and I had come through for him on every emotional level. But I kept thinking about the subject. I won’t go into the details of his escapades, but I seriously considered the benefits of his brand of faceless, wordless sexplay. Encounters in parks, on subways, in dark doorways off downtown streets. There had to be a real thrill to that.

I tried to imagine it for myself as I sleeplessly stared up at the dark ceiling of my bedroom. Nighttime. Me on the prowl in an urban environment. A familiar tingle started in my warm pussy.

Terry had told me enough stories that the scenario was pretty easy to concoct.

I would spot someone, another woman. My steps slowed as she came toward me. I saw she was attractive. Her head turned toward me, and our blazing eyes met.

I flashed her a smoldering smile. She held my gaze, still coming at me. I stopped, putting a hand to my hip, striking a pose for her. I unzipped my jacket to show off the skimpy top I had on underneath it. I wore no panties, and my pussy was already growing slick.

When she was alongside me, she stopped, too. We stood mere feet apart. I took in her face and her shape, and desire surged in me. She finally answered my provocative smile with one of her own. An electrical charge seemed to jump between us.

Without a word, without any need for talk or introductions or preliminaries of any kind, we hurried into a nearby alley. Hard shadows fell over us. Even the moonlight didn’t reach there. She leaned back against a brick wall, and I moved up against her.

Our bodies pressed together, then our mouths were as one. We kissed deeply, ferociously, tongues going wild. I liked the taste of her. Her hands moved into my open jacket. She slid them under my skimpy top to cup my breasts. My nipples were already rock-hard, and she eagerly tweaked them.

I groped her, too, loving the sweet swells of her tits. Then I was undoing the buttons of her jeans. There was no need to go slow. Everything, I knew, was permitted. We both wanted the same thing, and we wanted it as soon as possible!

As I let my torrid fantasy progress, I touched myself there on my bed. Images continued to pour through my mind.

I was fingering the nameless woman. She was doing the same to me. Her jeans were halfway down her legs. Mine were pooled around my ankles. I smelled her aroma, which mixed with my own. Before long, my jacket and top were on the ground. She stripped hers off. We sucked each other’s tits. I knelt before her, and she set her dripping cleft against my mouth. I tongued her crazily, and she grabbed my hair and humped my face. I imagined her orgasm overtaking her.

But it was me who was coming, fingering myself — alone. Yet the fantasy burned into my brain, leaving me in a state of shuddering excitement. I vowed then to try to make my dream come true.

I had no personal physical vocabulary for anything like that, though. All I could think to do was emulate Terry. Go out skulking on the streets, slink about town, look for a woman receptive to the kind of fun I had in mind. Why should only guys get to play that way?

So, for three nights running I went out walking at night. Each time the setting seemed ripe. I was certainly in a state of purring excitement. Like in my fantasy, I was without panties. I wore a scant top under my jacket.

But I didn’t encounter many women also out walking solo. Gals mostly moved in pairs and trios and groups, caught up in chatting among themselves. The few lone females I happened upon, who I flashed a smile at, just appeared startled by my attention. I admit I was aiming for a niche sort of individual: a woman who was into other women who would also go in for a bout of quick, wordless public sex.

As frustrating as it was, I still found the hunt exciting. The anticipation was palpable. Every time I spotted another woman, the possibility was there. My nipples would stiffen, my tongue craving the taste of a female body.

At close to midnight on my third attempt I was heading back to my apartment, resigned to the idea that my dream hookup would probably never happen. At least Terry didn’t know about my pathetic failed attempts at seduction, so he couldn’t tease me.

When I was still several blocks from my building, I heard footsteps behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, and there was a figure a few yards back. My pulse quickened. It was a woman, all on her own. Nobody else was around. I squinted but couldn’t tell if she was returning my look.

Biting my lip, I slowed my pace. She was probably just a random pedestrian, heading home after a swing shift somewhere. But my mind made her the fulfillment of my fantasy: She was out cruising, too, a pussy-lover like me. Holding my breath, I looked back again. She hadn’t slowed and was coming up right behind me. This time, her eyes met mine. I thought I detected a smile.

Holy shit! Was this really happening?

She was close enough for me to tell how pretty she was. I could also see she was wearing clothes that hugged an alluring body. She was about to pass me on the right. Hurriedly, I gave her a grin that I hoped didn’t look demented. My heart was pounding ferociously.

She looked me dead in the face and said, “Let’s do it.” Then she passed me without breaking her stride.

I froze for a second, then leapt after her. Let’s do it? So much for the wordless pickup, but her words felt charged, delicious, enticing. I got alongside her and grinned again. She returned the smile with bright white teeth that looked almost feral. Her eyes sparkled, too, and I surged with desire for her.

We went half a block farther, then — just like in my dream!—she turned down an alley. I followed her, my pussy having gone fantastically slick. Halfway down into the dark passage, she turned and grabbed the front of my jacket in two strong hands.

Fear touched me for a quick instant, but that feeling vanished as she mashed her lips against mine. I kissed her back, meeting her tongue, which darted and danced. I took a step backward, but only to lean against a brick wall. She pressed her body to me, and I felt the whole seething length of her. She was wiry, but she jammed soft tits against mine.

I pulled open her coat as she undid my jacket’s zipper. Our hands were on each other, searching and groping. There was no groundwork, no social precursors. We’d just jumped right into the fun stuff!

Our mouths continued to grind together as I fondled her breasts. She pushed my top up and tweaked my aroused nipples, not being gentle about it.

That was good. I didn’t want gentle. I loved how we were like two animals, letting our needs guide us. We both knew we had a consenting, if totally anonymous, partner for the occasion.

She shoved my jacket off my shoulders. I let it fall to the ground. She pulled off my top. I bit down a gasp as she put her mouth on my left tit. Her tongue lashed my nipple. Pleasure raged within me when her teeth caught my bud and carefully nibbled and nipped it. Then she moved to my other breast.

We were in a public, albeit hidden, place. I was sure nobody else was in the alley, but anyone could come along. Our vulnerability only intensified my already burning desire. When she’d had her fill of my boobs, I stripped her to her waist and gave her a fast, enthusiastic tit-sucking as well.

Her hands went to my loose-fit jeans. I undid her button fly at the same time. In the alleyway’s dimness, I saw her shapely bare legs and her tempting groove, which I imagined was already slick with dew. My pants, too, were now around my ankles. I did my fantasy one better and stepped completely out of them, standing there utterly nude, but for my flats — with the night’s breath caressing my exposed flesh.

She did the same, fully baring her body, and we pulled one another into a new grappling embrace. Every inch of her felt like electricity prickling against my skin. I plucked at her nipples, and she squeezed my ass. I reached down and hooked two fingers up into her streaming pussy.

As I worked that comely stranger, her hips rolled and she stifled a moan. I fingered her frantically and found her so slick inside. I pulled out and zeroed in on her swollen clit. She buried her face against my neck and shivered and moaned. I jammed two fingers deep into her snatch and used my thumb to toggle her clit. She quickly quaked, her pussy clenching around my fingers.

But she didn’t pause to enjoy the afterglow. Suddenly, she was on her knees in front of me, lifting one of my legs onto her shoulder and jamming her hot mouth up against my furrow as I braced myself against the wall. Pleasure rocked me upon the sweet intrusion of her tongue. It was as fast and nimble as it had been in my mouth.

I licked her juice off my fingers as she ate me. My climax didn’t take long. Even so, I savored it, letting the ecstasy lift and spin me. She slurped my juices as they flowed.

I went to change places with her, so I could get a proper taste of her sex. But she faced the wall, bent over at the waist and thrust out her ass. I knelt on my discarded jacket to cushion my knees, put my face to the offered valley and proceeded to lap at her pussy from behind. Unable to resist, I gave her asshole several thorough licks as well.

A minute later — or was it an eternity ?— she came. We hurriedly dressed and fled the alley — without even so much as a goodbye.