1 comments/ 23535 views/ 2 favorites Nightclub By: thats_miz_erotica2u I can feel the music pounding against my body as I sit at the table in the bar, watching, waiting. For what, I'm not sure. A tension building in my body as I scan the bar. The crowd on the dance floor parts slightly and I see you sitting at a table across the bar. Alone. I try to look away but can't. As if you sense me staring, you turn your head and look at me. The tension continues to build. I can feel your eyes looking at me. I watch you as you stand up and start towards me. An ache starts deep inside me. Without a word, you reach my table and hold out your hand to me. I instinctively know what you want, what you need. I hold out my hand and you clasp mine, pulling me towards you, tingles race over my hand and arm. My pulse starts to pound with the sounds of the music pouring out of the speakers. We walk to the dance floor, never looking away from one another. As you wrap your arms around me and we start to dance, sensation after sensation pours over me. There are so many, I can't pinpoint the one that feels the best. I can feel your heart beating at a rapid rate under my palm. Sliding my hand over your chest, feeling the heat, the muscle, you. As my palm skims over you, you pull me closer. We are now as close as two people can get, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, breasts to chest. I can feel your cock start to swell against my stomach. The ache inside me increases in strength. Still without a word, you lean down and graze my shoulder with your lips. A faint moan escapes from my throat. I feel your hand slide down my bare back, the dress I chose to wear that night no barrier. Low cut in front, baring my back, short. The dress of someone in need and you knowing what I want, what I need. As we dance to the music, our hands continue to skim over one another, seeking, feeling, learning the dips and valleys of each other's body. I can feel the hard muscle under your skin, marveling at the fact you are so hard where I am soft. I lift my face up towards yours, silently begging for your lips against mine. With a sigh of pleasure, feeling your lips brush against mine lightly. I lean up and gradually increase the pressure, kissing you deeper, wetter, slipping my tongue into your mouth, yours slipping into mine. Tongues mingling, fighting, caressing. The kiss going on and on, breath gasping for air, heat sizzling in our veins, heartbeats pulsing. I feel your thigh being slid between mine, pushing against me, making me wetter, hotter. I can feel your cock hard against me, and I rub against you, feeling you pulsing and throbbing, wanting. Your hand slides down my back and over my ass, kneading, pulling me harder against you. Together we sway to the music, brushing against one another, heat coming off us in waves, the room dimming around us. The room narrowing until there is just the two of us. Sliding one hand down over your chest, flicking your nipple with my thumb, hearing your gasp of pleasure as your mouth works its magic against my neck. Hearing myself moan in pleasure but assured nobody can hear over the music pounding in the background. You push your thigh higher against me, rubbing against my clit with your thigh, feeling the wet spot through your pants and my thong. I slip my hand down your over your stomach and pop open the button of your pant. I slide my index finger up and down over the zipper of your pants feeling you grow even harder. Slowly dragging the zipper down and slipping my hand inside your pants, touching skin and with a moan of pleasure realizing your not wearing any underwear. Wrapping my hand around your hard cock, slowly rubbing my thumb over the tip and feeling the bead of precum there, making me needier. With a groan I feel you start to dance us around the floor, continuing to rub together, my hand moving against your hard cock, up and down to the beat of the music, feeling your hand against my ass, the other caressing my back. Then with a jolt, feeling a door against my back as you press yourself tighter against me. The door opens and I feel myself falling into a darkened room, pushed up against a wall. My hands frantically pushing up your shirt, over your head, tossing it to the floor. One of your hands slides up my thigh and under my dress, a finger slipping under the silk of my thong. The other hand moving to caress my breast, kneading it, pulling at the nipple through the silk of my dress. I slide my hands down your bare chest, leaning forward, kissing, licking, sucking. My hands pushing at your pants, as you raise my dress up over my hips, bunching it around my waist, pulling at the straps, lowering them, baring my breasts. Breath sounds harsh in the room, the sound of the music dimmed by the walls. Kissing hard, hands seeking. Feeling your hands under my ass, lifting me slightly and pushing me against the wall. Bracing my back against the wall, wrapping my legs around your hips, pushing against you, rubbing myself against your hard cock. Sliding my hands up over your shoulders, bracing them there, kneading and clenching your muscles in my hands, wanting, needing. And with a moan deep in my throat, one word passes my lips "NOW." The first word uttered by either of us as no words seemed necessary to this point, both knowing what the other craved. Then with a groan from you, you start to push your hard cock into me, inch by inch, slowly to increase the pleasure of us both. Feeling you fill me, pushing my hips down, impatient to take all of you in, to feel the pleasure rippling through my body. And with one final thrust you bury yourself to the base and stop. "Nooooooooooooo" is torn from my throat. "Shhhhhhh" you whisper back. And then you start to move, pulling back and then thrusting hard into me. Over and over again. Moving faster, harder, deeper. I shift my hips, taking you in deeper still. Gasping for air, feeling the sweat running down your chest, licking it off, brushing my breasts against you. Feeling you throbbing inside me, pulsing. I can feel my muscles starting to tense, knowing I am so close to climaxing. Wanting to prolong the pleasure, my hands grip your shoulders hard, my hips pressing into yours. I slide one hand down and reach between us, slipping my finger over my clit and pressing, rubbing. As you feel my hand between us, you increase the pace, moving faster, harder. With one final thrust you burst inside me. As I feel you start to cum inside me, I lose control and with a scream I explode around you. You feel me pulling at you with my muscles inside, milking you. Wave after wave pounding over me I feel myself almost passing out, hanging onto a thread of sanity. When my orgasm passes, I can still feel you inside me, pulsing with life. Very gently, I lean up and kiss you, softly. You lower my feet to the floor, pull my dress up to cover my breasts, slide my dress down from my waist. I can feel your chest moving as you chuckle and tuck my now ruined thong into your pant's pocket as you pull your pants back up and do up the zipper and button. Still touching, not wanting to let go of the pleasure still coursing through our bodies, we walk out of the small room and to a table in the corner of the bar. The night has just begun . . . . . Nightclub We make eye contact in a crowded nightclub. You're just what I'm looking for. I smile and invite you to my table with a little nod of my head. Your lip curls a little and you look away. I'm stung. I'm used to guys coming over, buying drinks, asking to dance, coming on to me. I take a breath and slip from my stool. You're leaning against the rail above the dance-floor. I sidle up next to you. I want to say something, but I don't know what. You speak first, just loud enough to be heard above the music. "Hello, slut." My mouth opens. My cheeks burn. I feel a knot in my belly. And something else. I try to deny it from myself, but I'm aroused. I finally manage a sputtered question, "Wh-what?" You lean in to speak into my ear, "You heard me. Slut. It's what you are, isn't it?" "No!" I cry, "I'm not!" Your hand is a blur and I feel the sting of it burning my cheek before I register the motion. Angry tears well up in my eyes and I glare back defiantly. But my defiance feels false. Doesn't my little, black dress advertise exactly the kind of girl I am? My tits nearly hang out of its low neckline, its high skirt barely covers my ass. Don't I already feel my body responding, my flesh tingling, a warmth and wet between my legs? Didn't I come here to go home with someone, anyone? You just smirk. My stomach knots up. Your eyes lead mine to a bouncer by the door, daring me to go to him. He'd believe me. He'd kick you out. But I don't move. I see smug triumph on your face and I drop my gaze to the floor, defeated. My cheeks and ears burn with humiliation, but I want you. In this moment, I want you so badly. I want you to take me home. You lean in again. I feel your breath on my neck when you speak. It sends shivers down my spine. "Don't lie to me again. Tell me what you are." "I'm a slut," I murmur, far too quietly to be heard over the music. You shake your head and make a gesture by your ear. This time I say it loud enough to be heard, "I'm a SLUT!" A few people around glance at me. My pussy is nearly aching, now. I need you. You smile. You lean in, "You're worthless fuckmeat! Go out that door," you point, "Wait by the dumpster in the alley. On your knees." Then you turn away. I've been dismissed. I wait an agonizing moment. I think about leaving. I could just leave. Ignore you. Go home. But I don't. I go to the door. **** It seems like I've been waiting forever. The asphalt of the alley is hard on my bare knees. Then the door opens with a loud clunk and I look up, desperately hoping it's you. It's not. Two couples exit in a gaggle, hanging off each other. I look away. They see me, and I can hear their reactions, curious and amused. One girl, laughing, calls out asking me, "What are you doing?" My heart races. I don't know how to answer. "I'm waiting for someone," I finally answer, my eyes fixed to the ground before me. My voice is high pitched, on the verge of tears. Another girl seems concerned, "Are you okay? Do you need help?" I shake my head, speak quickly, "No. I'm okay." "Ah, come on!" one of the guys says, "Let's go! I know a place!" They pull each other away, exit the alley. "Bye!" the first girl calls back. She's still laughing, "Have fun!" I shiver. I'm so horny. I wonder if there's time to masturbate. I want to resist urge. What if you came out at that moment? What if someone else did? The thought both horrifies me and serves to arouse me further. I'm still wrestling with the idea when the door opens again. It's you. My heart skips a beat. I feel my blush return. I can't meet your eyes. "Well here you are," you say. Your voice conveys amusement, surprise, contempt. God. Your voice is like chocolate, deep and rich. "Here you are, on your knees, in an alley, waiting for a stranger. You don't even know my name. Still deny that you're a slut?" I keep my eyes to the ground. I shake my head. Your hand surprises me again, striking me again on my cheek, leaving a deep sting. Tears start from my eyes. "You will answer my questions with your voice, slut, and you will call me Sir." "Yes Sir," I answer meekly. It feels right and natural. You stand before me, my face at level with your groin. "Now answer my question. Do you still deny that you're a slut?" "No Sir," I pause a moment with my mouth open. I want to say the words, "I'm a slut." "Tell me, slut, what were you thinking of just now. I saw a look in your eye as I came out." I blanched, "I- I-" "Answer me!" your voice has a sharp edge of anger. The words fall out of me, "I was thinking about masturbating, Sir! I wanted to! So badly!" You laugh, a bark of contempt. You slide your hand into my hair. Your touch is electric. I look up into your eyes. They're black, so black that I cannot distinguish the iris from the pupil. Your eyes could swallow me. Now your voice is gentle. It seems to come from the earth. "Take off your dress, slut, and give it to me." My eyes grow wide. My jaw drops. I feel cold horror grip me. My mind stammers. Please don't make me, please. I'll be seen. It's already bad. The horror of it competes with shame. Because I know that want to. I want to do it. I don't know if I can. You speak again in the same gentle tone. "You have a choice, whore. You can get up and walk away. You can go home and put a dildo between your legs and pretend that's enough. Or, you can take off your dress and give it to me. Then, I will punish you for being slow to obey. Here, in this alley. After that, I'll call for my car. So, what will it be?" I nearly melt. My heart pounds in my chest. My hands are trembling. I reach behind my back to unzip my dress. I slough it off from my shoulders, let it fall to the swell of my hips, push it to my knees. I have to bend down, touch the ground for balance while I the dress out from under my knees. I feel your eyes on me, appraising my nearly naked body. A strapless bra. Panties. My heels. I look up at you and hand you my dress in a clump. I shiver, feeling exposed. "Your bra, too. Give it to me." I look at the door, pleading with my eyes. You watch me impassively. I'm so easily defeated. I reach behind me again and unhook it, slip it from around me. My tits spill out, jello-y, swaying gently. My pink nipples are pointed and hard, the aureolae pebbled, advertising my arousal. You take my bra. "Good. Now. For your punishment, you're going to clean my shoes." You lean over me and take my head in your hand, "You are going to lower yourself to your hands and your knees and you are going to clean my shoes with your tongue. Do you understand me?" A little sob escapes my throat. "Do you want your clothes back? You can take them and go home." My voice is dry, breathless, "No. No Sir." "Then get to work you piece of shit." I wail. I gush. I ache with desire. I lower myself, my face to your shoes. They're soft, worn leather, casual and stylish. They look expensive. I began to lick them, pressing my tongue thick against the material. The leather is sour and dries my tongue. "Tell me what you want, slut. Maybe if you're good, I'll give it to you." Oh god, I want you so badly. I want everything. Where do I begin, "I want-" The ka-chunk of the door interrupts me. I stop and look up, frozen, breathing quick. A couple of guys walked out. Bros, wearing football jerseys and backward caps. They had come out laughing about something, but one of them stops when he sees me and gapes. The other follows his gaze and trails off. I look up at you. You turn and look at the guys. You smile and look back at me. "Go ahead, slut. Tell me what you want." I struggle for my voice. I can manage only a single word, strangled and high-pitched, "Cock! I want your... I want... cock!" You laugh, a rich, throaty laugh, "Keep cleaning, slut. You just might get your wish." I close my eyes. I cannot bear to look. I lick your shoes and I listen to you speak to the two men. "What do you boys think? Do you think the slut deserves some cock?" "Look man," the one begins, hesitant, "We don't wanna..." but his friend interrupts him. "Yeah!" He sounds brash, arrogant, "Hell yeah! I'll give her cock if she wants it!" My stomach is a hollow pit but my mouth fills with saliva. I feel your hand in my hair and you pull me up, back to a kneeling posture. You show me off to the two of them, offering me. The eager one is nearly drooling, gawking at my body. The other one is smiling a little, still nervous. "Oh she wants it, alright," you say, "She's an eager piece of fuckmeat. Aren't you, slut? Do you want to suck some cock?" My breath is heavy. "Yes," I gasp. "What's that, slut? I don't think we heard you!" Your tone manages to be both stern and mocking. "Yes," I say again, "Yes Sir. I'll suck both their cocks." And I knew I would, there on my knees in the alley, like a whore on the street. You step away as the first guy approaches me. He opens his pants and pulls out his prick, already hard, waggling before my face. He's circumsized. He looks clean and pink. I look up at him. He's laughing, greedy. I take him in my hand guide his cock into my open mouth. He's warm and salty. I can smell his sweat. Oh yeah, he says. I move in a slow rhythm, wrapping my fingers around the shaft and stroking him in time with the motion of my head. He moans and puts his hand on my head. I pick up the pace. My lips slurp as I suck him off. I can't believe that I am doing this. I close my eyes and let his hand guide me, increasing the pace, slurping noisily. I make little noises of protest when he tries to push too deep, pulling back from him. He doesn't insist, and I wonder if you'll notice that. Will you punish me for it? He's soon close, so close to coming. I'm moving rapidly, sucking and stroking, milking his cock. He moans and his cock spurts come, filling my mouth with its eggy texture. I hold my head, stroking with my hand, swallowing, looking up at him as he comes in my mouth. He sighs and slips his cock from my mouth. My lips make a kissing noise, suckling the last drop. He passes me off to his friend. I bend to spit before I start, but I see you. All it takes is a shake of your head. I know what you want. I collect saliva and come into a ball on my tongue and swallow it. I'm a come-eating whore and now it's another man's turn to make use of my mouth. He already has his cock out, hard and ready for me. He's larger than his friend. I slide my tongue thick up and down the shaft, wetting him and then take the head into my lips. I work the second man's cock more quickly than the first, stroking and sucking, trying to excite him more quickly to orgasm. I press my tongue thick along the base of his cock, and his head up against the roof of my mouth. He moans and grabs my hair, pulling me to his belly, wanting to push his way deeper. I resist but he doesn't relent. His cock slides into my throat. It chokes me, but I have experience with this. Men have wanted this before, and I've learned how. I relax my throat. I let it swallow, massaging his cock. He moans. He grips my head with both hands, holding me still, then he pulls back and then plunges in again, fucking my throat. I let him, catching what breath I can. My eyes water and I struggle not to gag. I hear the door ka-chunk open, but it seems distant; my being is focused on the cock in my mouth. But in that moment, with a groan, he comes. It spurts into my throat and he pulls out. He holds my head and lets another spurt of come shoot across my cheek. I'm gasping. I feel light headed. He puts his cock away and steps back. I can see five more people, guys and girls. I'm horrified. I raise my arms to cover my breasts. I look away, at the pavement. My knees hurt. I feel come cool and drip from my face. From the group I hear one girl's disgust and disbelief, a man's laughter. I wish that a hole would open up and swallow me. And I'm horny. I wish that someone would fuck me. My panties are soaked. Then, your voice, "Lower your arms, pig." I lower my arms to my side. "Tell us what you want." My face screws up. My stomach twists into a tight knot. My voice is high, nearly breaking with tears, "I want- I want someone to fuck me." "Do you now? Well, will show us what you're offering?" "What- I-" I look at you and I understand. "Yes Sir," I say. I slide my hands under the elastic of my panties and slip them down. I have to balance on one hand to get them from under my knees. I feel my tits sway heavily, and I finally glance at the gawkers, watching me. I see the disgusted girl right away. Her lip is curled and her eyes are angry. She stares at me transfixed. So do the others. A couple more girls, a couple more guys. The first two guys are still there, too. Perhaps they hope they'll get to fuck me, too. I suspect that before the end of the night, they both will. For the first time I wonder where the end of this will be for me. How low will I sink before the night is over? Is it just this a single, degrading night, or is this the beginning of something more? I feel a sinking horror. I look away, back to you. I give you my panties. You smile. "Open your mouth." I can see your intent. I open my mouth and you stuff in the wad of thin material. I offer no protest. "All right," you say, "Continue. Show us how you like to fuck." My head feels light, almost swimming. I turn and bend over, lowering myself to my elbows, lifting my ass high, exposing myself to the crowd. I've always liked it best from behind. I imagine one of the men taking me there, like that, grabbing my hips and fucking me while the others watch, getting excited, pushing me down, putting his weight on me, dominating me. I nearly weep with aching lust. END OF PART ONE. Nightclub We have a nice little nightclub in our neighbourhood. It used to be a picture theatre, becoming a warehouse when videos drove the theatre out of business. The warehouse closed down and for a few years the place sat idle. Then some bright spark decided to make it a nightclub and it's been doing a nice little business. Having mainly local custom the place was basically a bar with dancing and fancy lights. That suited the normal clientele quite nicely. One night the nightclub was discovered. We were invaded by a bunch of pretentious yuppies, apparently wanting to see how the other half play. The general opinion of the locals was that the yuppies were a bunch of arrogant turds and we'd just as soon they went back where they came from. As far as I could tell, the yuppies considered the locals to be an inferior life-form that might vaguely be considered human, but were to be condescended to. They didn't actually pat anyone on the head and say, good boy, but you got the sense that they were thinking it. Got right up the nose of some of the boys. It was a wonder that a couple of the yuppies didn't get invited out the back for a discussion on attitude. (Actually, I think they probably were, but they had too much sense to accept the invitation.) Mind you, some of the women they brought with them weren't half bad. Not the type of young lady you'd be in a hurry to kick out of your bed if you found her there. Not that it was likely to happen the way they seemed to regard us. We were a step above brutish animals from the way they reacted when you tried to con one into a dance. This attitude wasn't helped by Barry. Mister Smooth actually charmed one lovely lass onto the dance floor and spent the dance groping her. She was lucky to get off the dance floor with her dress still on, and she was not backward about letting her opinion be known. Out behind the main room of the old theatre was a corridor with the facilities, office, and storerooms. It was really a very nice corridor, fitted up as befitted a picture theatre. No crappy old plaster for this corridor. It had wood panelling, oak, would you believe, and the owner actually spent some money having the wood waxed and polished. I happened to be coming along the corridor when there was this yuppy chick there. She was taking a good look at the old panelling, apparently appreciating the workmanship. "The panelling dates from when the place was a picture theatre," I told her. "The owner likes it and keeps it polished." "It's awfully good," she said. "This type of thing is far better than the dreary plaster or instant walls that most places have. It's a pity it's so expensive to do this sort of work these days." "The office and the Wanna room have the same sort of panelling," I told her. "It's really something to see." She blinked, looking slightly puzzled. "Um, what's the Wanna room?" "Oh, that's what we call that room over there," I said, indicating a stockroom. "It's open to the public if you would like to see the panelling." "Um, I wouldn't mind," she admitted, and I steered her over to the stockroom and let her in. It was pretty obvious that the room was just a stockroom, even if it did have some excellent panelling. "Why does a stockroom have such nice panelling? I'd have thought the owner would have it pulled out and sold it. He could make a tidy sum on the wood." "The cost of replacing it would be more than you think. This used to be an office and this room and the actual office are both soundproofed. Again, that dates back to the picture theatre. The people in the offices didn't want to hear the shows all the time." "Oh. Ah, why do you call this room the Wanna room? Does the name mean something?" "Oh, yes. This is where the hot-blooded young men bring their girlfriends when they wanna spend some quality time with them. That's why I let you in here. I wanna spend some quality time with you." "Um, flattering," she said with a laugh, "but I don't even know you so, if it's all the same to you, I'll pass up your offer." "It's not all the same to me and it wasn't exactly an offer." I was looking her over, enjoying the sight of her. She was young and attractive, dressed for a night out. Her dress was short with shoelace straps and I suspected that she wasn't wearing a bra. I guess she read my intentions in the way I was looking at her. "No way," she stated firmly. "Yes way," I said, smiling. "I'm going to lift up your dress, pull down your panties, and roughly fuck you. It will be interesting." "If you so much as lay a finger on me I will scream" "No, you won't," I told her, sounding quietly confident. "What the hell makes you think that?" "Partly because I just pointed out that this room is sound-proofed. Partly because you're curious. If you scream and run away you'll always wonder, what would have happened if I'd stayed? The curiosity will eat at you. What will it be like if this man grabs me and just takes me, no matter what I want? Where else can you find yourself in a situation where you're going to be raped, but in a relatively safe environment?" "How can you use the words rape and safe in the same sentence? Do you seriously think I'm going to let some uncouth brute just grab me?" "This uncouth brute is not only going to grab you, he's going to use you in the way a man is supposed to use a woman. I won't be making gentle love to you. I'll be taking you." "Oh, wow, so macho," she said with more than a touch of sarcasm. "I'm surprised that you haven't whipped your cock out to impress me with your manly attributes." "That would be crude, but by all means, feel free to unzip me and see what you will be getting." Her eyes flicked down to my crotch and a rather noticeable bulge. She blushed and looked elsewhere, glaring at me when she saw me smirk. "You're being ridiculous. If you'll excuse me, I'm leaving." She didn't, however, make any effort to move around me. She just stood there, looking at me defiantly. I moved nearer and she backed up, all the way to that nice panelling. I reached down and hitched up her dress, exposing her panties. "Stop it. You can't do this," she protested. "Then make a fuss. Scream and struggle. Bring down the forces of righteousness upon me." My thumbs hooked onto her panties and pushed then down. I slid a hand over her mons, down and between her legs, stroking her pussy, though only lightly at this stage. "I'm serious," she hissed at me. "Let me past." I straightened up, moving my hand away from her pussy. I used it lower a shoulder strap, tugging it down until her breast popped out of the bra cup built into the dress. For a moment I admired the lovely white shape of it and then I leaned forward and took the nipple into my mouth, sucking lightly. She stayed absolutely still while I sucked on her breast. The only sound she made a stuttered, "No," whispered in a low voice. I lowered the other strap, letting a matching breast appear. Not wanting to play favourites, my mouth crossed over and caught the new nipple. Her hands were on my shoulders, pushing at me. She had to be kidding. My two year old niece could push harder. While I tasted her breasts my hand closed back over her mound, but a lot more firmly this time. I rubbed my hand hard against her, letting her know my intentions. She was squirming slightly, muttering feeble little protests. I took a step back, undoing my trousers and letting them drop. Her eyes were wide, staring at my erection, slowly shaking her head. Crouching in front of her I took her panties the rest of the way down, tapping an ankle to encourage her to step out of them. Standing again, I moved closer, my erection lightly brushing against her. "Lift your leg," I told her, patting her right thigh. "Why?" "Why do you think? I'm going to wrap it around my waist so I have better access." I'd have thought that would have been a no brainer. "I won't do it," she muttered. "I'm assuming that you don't want to find yourself lying on the floor while I take you," I pointed out. "Alternatively, if you're on your hands and knees you'll get them dirty. Of course, you can turn around and lean against the wall, I guess." I patted her thigh again and she gave me a nasty look, but lifted her leg. I caught it, pulling it higher and hitching it around my waist. She was now wide open to me, with my cock along her slit, pressing against her lips. I eased my cock into position, the head pressing firmly against her. She was staring at me, looking as though she couldn't really believe this was happening. "You're not really going to do this," she muttered, shaking her head slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Oh my god, you are," she gasped, as my answer to her question was to press firmly forward. I had played with her enough to have started her arousal quite nicely. Her passage was wet and ready, even if she was a trifle reluctant. My assessment of her was that she had some experience, so I figured I could afford to be a little rough without hurting her at all. As soon as my cock had eased past her lips I pushed hard into her, driving home with one firm thrust. She gave a startled cry, but her leg tightened convulsively around me, helping to pull me in. From that auspicious beginning I went to work. My hands were on her breasts, mauling them, rubbing them roughly, enjoying the feel of them, pinching her nipples and generally teasing them. At the same time I started driving home hard and fast. I had wondered if she'd just stand there while I took her, but after that first startled shriek, and what was probably an involuntary clutching of me, she started working with me, pushing hard to meet me as I drove in. OK. I know I said that I'd be simply taking her, but it would be rude to not give some consideration to her feelings. I watched her reactions as I drove in, trying to spot clues as to what she liked and what she didn't. It quickly became apparent that she liked being helpless and used. The rougher I was the more she responded. I couldn't help but wonder what she'd do if she ever met a sadist. I was only pretending to be rough and tough and she was lapping it up. I took her relentlessly, thrusting in hard, and she gave out gasping little cries, pushing frenziedly to meet me, apologising for I know not what, demanding I take her harder yet. I pressed my body firmly against her, almost crushing her against the wall, while my hips worked overtime, my cock lunging forward with hard thrusting strokes. I couldn't keep that sort of performance up for too long, not without risking friction burns to a certain delicate part of my anatomy. Fortunately, I only had to go long enough. My own climax was assured. I was ready and past ready, purely hanging on out of courtesy. From the tone of her little cries, she was heading quite rapidly towards her climax, just needing that final helping hand. I was quite happy to provide it. I drove in with some quicker strokes, sacrificing length of stroke for increased speed, really banging into her. Her muttering and gasping cries changed to an, "Uh, uh, uh," expressed in a rising crescendo and then she was shuddering and shaking, wailing softly as she climaxed. Me too. Climaxed, that is, not wailed. As soon as I saw she was going I just relaxed and let things flow, nature taking its course with great speed. I disengaged and tidied up my clothes while she slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily and looking slightly stunned. "There you go," I said. "Any day you learn something new is a good day and you've learned some new things." "What do you mean? What have I learned?" "You've learned why this room is called the Wanna room and you've learned how the other half play. I'd mention other things but modesty forbids." She glared at me while she straightened her clothes, but it was only a very half-hearted glare. She opened her mouth to make some sort of cutting remark and then shut it again when nothing came to mind. She contented herself by turning up the wattage on the glare. "Things could have been worse, you know," I pointed out as I politely escorted her back to the main club. "Oh, really? How, pray tell." Luck was with me. Barry, at his oiliest, was slithering along the corridor towards us. It was odd. He could charm a girl in nothing flat, and then lose her even faster. I could never see what any woman saw in the repellent little rodent for even long enough to be enticed onto the dance floor. What was better was that Billy was with him. Billy was his nick-name, not his real name. It was short for billy-goat, an animal he resembled in two ways, a scraggly beard and a terrible smell. I nodded towards Barry and Billy. "You might have met those two out here. How would you fancy a trip to the Wanna room with them?" She gave a delicate little shudder, acknowledging the point. I saw her into the main club room, but didn't go in myself. I headed homeward instead. It had been an interesting night.