"Hmmm now things are starting to get promising. My name is Barbara by the way - or Barbs for short if you prefer."

As she whispered huskily to the girl, she rested her own palm on the young girls pink tinged thigh and she rubbed a little bit. She rubbed just up over the crossed over thigh and to the pink stretch of the hem, then back down again. Then she leaned in just a little closer, and pecked her pink lips. Just a brief, very brief kiss, lips to lips. The girl didn't budge. Not in avoiding eye contact nor, shifting away from the rubbing hand. She simply absorbed the kiss and then swiped her lips, the full width of her mouth with her wet tongue. As though she was licking that kiss off her lips and taking it into the warmer wetter confines of her mouth. Then there was a kind of rush of conscience that shot up and down the core of Barbara's spine. Like she was asking herself 'what the fuck are you doing, you're old enough to be this girl's mother and some?'. There was a shiver but she didn't show it. She touched her own lips with the tip of her tongue and she held the girl's eye contact.

"Mmmmm well Babs, I must say, I'm very pleased to meet you. And me, you can call me Angel. Yes that's what you can call me, Angel."

For the first time the girl sat back and looked at the older woman's hand draped across her upper thigh. For a moment it looked like she might try to brush it away like she had that imaginary dust. But she didn't, she smiled instead. A wide pink smile. Barbara rubbed the thigh again, almost imperceptibly and as she did that she also squeezed. She squeezed the pink nylon flesh, denting it with her finger tips very slightly.

"I said Barbara, or Barbs. Not Babs."

Barbara this time injected just a little venom into her voice. Nothing over the top, not even a raised voice. Just a voice with an edge to it. A little bit like she was testing the young girl. The girl calling herself Angel had obviously been testing her in the way that she picked her own version of Barb's name - that is not a version that was included in her list of preferred names. Angel leaned back, mid squeeze of her leg and she sighed out - like she was sighing out in some kind of lustful way. As she sighed out, she parted her lips - pink gloss from pink gloss - and she closed her eyes. Not tightly, just a little so that the lids fluttered. Then she blew out her lips. Barbara got another of those pangs of conscience down the core of her spine and she looked around. The girl was close to the bone age wise, she knew that. And it did not look good in this place that she was getting so close and cosy with her. People in that bar knew her. More than likely no-one gave a shit. Angel had come in and got a drink so she was legal. But the thought still set Barb's nerves on edge. She released her fingers a little bit and Angel opened her eyes. She blew her sweet lips out a little bit and she took a deep breath.

"But I much prefer Babs. It suits you. That's kinda like a really good older woman's name and it fits in with my fantasies."

Angel's voice was sulky - almost petulant but it was sexy as well. And on top of that, Barbara was of the mind,

"What the hell, Babs it is... but Angel? You don't really expect me to swallow that one do you?"

Barbara sat back, recrossed her own legs and sipped from her wine.

"See I just knew you'd see it my way - the old ones are the best remember? Oh, and yes of course I expect you to believe that I am Angel. Because I am - although my exact origin is a bit of a mystery."

Angel relaxed and smiled.

"And just what 'fantasies' do you have? You altogether look far too young to have fantasies in any direction."

Angel didn't respond straight away - she let the question linger and hang in the air like her hot breath. It was like she was thinking to herself - thinking and then formulating her answer - kind of putting her teenage brain into gear before opening her mouth. She let out a little chuckling sigh before she spoke again - like she was about to say much more than probably this older woman could take, but that she might also rein it in at the same time. She leaned forward again, this time really like she did not want to be overheard. She leaned forward and cupped her hand to her mouth and then to Barbara's ear. With her free hand, she lightly stroked Babs's side. She lightly touched the white silk blouse she had on and then pressed until she found flesh then lightly stroked the side from the waist and then up to the side of Barbara's generous breast. And she whispered, breathily into Babs's ear.

"I like older women who are vulnerable. I think you're vulnerable right now. I like older women whose looks are fading, but haven't quite. That's you too. I like to make older women, like you, feel like they still have it. Like they still have something left to love. I like older women... like you.... who give 'everything' to me - to love and adore me. To make them feel very special because someone like me is even showing any interest in them..... I think you tick every one of the boxes I've put down so far."

Barbara was almost shaken to the core at how this girl's mind worked - and what she thought of her and how she seemed to have sussed her out. She was vulnerable - she had just been sacked after fifteen years. But she didn't think that she had showed any outward signs of that - in fact she was sure of it. But besides that there was a hurt in there as well - the constant references to her age. She had always been touchy about her age especially as she had approached the big four o. It was though this young slip of a girl, dressed in stretch black and pink plastic knew what nerves to touch and how to twang those nerves for best effect. Angel's petulance was gone to. In its place the hissing, almost dripping wet sexuality of herself coming to the fore. As she whispered in that way, her lips were touching Barbara's ear - and as every few words passed, so her tongue would come out and flick just into the rim of the ear. Barbara shuddered, in much the same way that she shuddered with conscience. But this time that shudder down the core of her spine was accompanied by the squeezing of her crossed thighs. And her torso arched slightly, like side to side, providing a concave curve for Angel's stroking finger at her side. Barbara nibbled her bottom lip and that was something that she never usually did - but this time she did. She nibbled her bottom lip because she could feel both of her nipples erecting inside her expensive lace bra. With that stroking of her side, the ever so gentle stroking of her side, her nipples were reacting and they were reacting immediately. As they bloated, thickened and elongated inside their bra-prison so that familiar throb came in the nipple bases. Right down inside, under the nipple stems and deep under the areola. With that happening, she was managing just to retain her poise and dignity even though her breathing had quickened. It wasn't easy though. Angel removed her finger from Babs's side and then sat back, that all important eye contact being reinstated. It was like she was expecting some kind of response. Or at the very least that she was giving the opportunity for some kind of response. There was one, but it was almost 'weak'. Almost weak in the words used and the way they were used.

"I cannot believe you've said those things to me....."

The hurt was in the voice - the first time in what must have been years that Barbara had showed any kind of weakness. But this was different. This was a hurt, but it was an erotic hurt at the same time. Her breathing was heavy and laboured and her not inconsiderable chest was rising and falling, rising and falling. For the first time, it was Barbara who broke the eye contact and looked down. As she looked at her own lap, focussing on the pin stripe skirt that was tight to her hips and waist, Angel leaned forward again. She hadn't finished. She had more to say. This time she stroked Babs's other side, and so the concave arch of the torso was shifted to the opposite side.

"I'll just bet, in your day, those cock sucker lips of yours had all the men panting. And those tits. And those legs. Mmmmm I'll just bet you were the hottest of the hot. But then you're not too bad now - you still have it... just about. I wanna make you feel so, so special Babs. So special. So special because someone like me, young, hot and with it all, would even bother with someone like you. You up for it Babs, hmmmm? Wanna come with an Angel, and cum with an Angel."

There it was again - that dripping wet voice and this time it had taken Barbara beyond the point of return. She should have slapped the young girl's face and got the fuck out of that place with her dignity intact. But that wasn't going to happen. That reference to her 'cock sucker lips' had acted like some bizarre pavlovian training in that she found herself pressing her lips together, rolling them in - just about holding the drool that was forming in there from spilling out. She had always been conscious of her full lips. They were the sort that fell and drooped into a natural and inviting pout - but it had been years since she had sucked a cock. This young girl, Angel, or whatever the fuck her name was, was advanced beyond her years and she was turning the hell on inside Barbara's libido. She felt the flush rise from her breast bones up her neck and over her face and she looked coyly up at Angel. The young girl was sitting there, upright, confident and it was like she was waiting for the eyes to come up and meet her.

"So what you say Babs - you gonna give a lil girl a good time - kind of like your swansong as it were? I promise you'll never look back."

Barbara all of a sudden felt her age - every one of her thirty nine years.

"I'm not sure what you mean by 'swan-song' but I do have an apartment, not far from here, we could go there?"

Angel smiled, and she sipped the last of her drink.

"Oh, swan-song as per the dictionary definition is a metaphorical phrase for a final effort, gesture or performance, usually given before death. But that definition is open to interpretation. Lead the way sexy."