She looked at herself in the mirror as the bass beat thumped loudly. Her dark straight hair framed her face. She noticed she went a little too dark in her eyes, but it matched her mood. Everyone called her gorgeous, or beautiful, but she didn't see it. She just thought she was regular, maybe slightly above average. Her body, though, well she knew that was hot. Other girls jostled her as they all tried to touch up their makeup. Cheater!
You cheated on him and he left you. You deserve what he did to you. He probably thinks this last year and a half was just a joke to you.
Her eyes welled up, but she fought back the urge to cry and shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Come on Sweets!" her friend, Trinity, called. "You're holding up the procession!
Let's go!" Quickly putting on her best fake smile, she allowed Trinity and her other friends to drag her out to the dance floor. The four girls danced loosely together amongst the hot and sweaty New York crowd. They did the usual girl dancing things, flirting with each other, having mock sex and rubbing against each other. But she wasn't really into it.
What club is this again? She couldn't remember the name, or if she had even been here before or not. Ever since Jonathan… No! she rebuked herself. We are not thinking about him tonight!
Some guy calling himself Stefano brought her a drink which she quickly downed.
He took that as her having fallen instantly in love with him. She caught Emily's eye, though, who proceeded to run Stefano off the dance floor. "Thanks hon!" she hollered to Emily upon her return.
"Anything for you, Sweets. He wasn't your type?" "I've had enough Guidos, thank you very much." Emily lowered her head, remembering that Jonathan was Italian. Emily hugged her brunette friend.
"Sorry honey, I'll remember next time." More drinks came by, more attempted pickups and the same number of rebuffs followed. She just couldn't get excited about any guys right now. I gave him everything, everything I had. I did things… nasty things, sexy things, painful things.
And he gave you… all that he could, but you knew that going in. Suddenly, she felt hands slip around her waist from behind. But before she could turn and slap the offending asshole, a girls voice hollered in her ear. "Hey lover! It's me, Jennifer…" Jennifer spun her around so they faced each other.
She didn't recognize Jennifer at all. "Remember?" continued Jennifer. "Two nights ago, over on 54th?Jen?" The raucous dancing crowd forced them into a close hug. She stared into Jen's gorgeous face, leaned in and softly kissed her lovely mouth. She snaked her hand down under Jen's ultra-short dress and cupped her sex. She felt the sweat between Jen's legs, and the heat, and she slipped a finger between her pussy lips, finding it nice and damp.
"Oh God!" exclaimed Jen. "You do remember!" She slipped a second finger inside Jen's pussy, finding her opening and curling her fingers up inside. Nobody on the floor seemed to notice the two girls as she manipulated Jen's pussy expertly. Jonathan would touch me like this, sometimes in public. He loved making me cum. Goddammit. She tried to concentrate on Jen and sped up her hand. The EDM music soared to a peak, and held, and she rapidly frigged Jen's pussy.
When the "Drop" hit, she forced all four fingers inside Jen and tried to lift her off the ground. Unsuccessful at getting Jen airborne, the sudden increase in pressure nevertheless brought Jen to a stunning orgasm as the crowd went wild with the music.
Jennifer leaned on her as she came, drenching her fingers. She gently pushed Jen to a sitting position on a planter, and promptly left without a word. She knew she was turned on, she could feel it in her pussy when she walked. It felt good. She hated that. She wanted to feel nothing. She went to the bar for a few shots of "nothing." Forcing her way to the bar, she ordered three shots of Jose Cuervo.
The bartender lined them up and poured, and went for the salt and some limes. She waved him off; that shit makes Jose almost tolerable. She wanted this to hurt. She knocked back the first shot and winced as her throat burned from the rotgut concoction. Did he ever love me? He told me twice that he did.
Twice in eighteen months.
She downed number two. I never should have cheated. She didn't even feel the third one go down. He's ghosted me, and I miss him so goddamned much. "Hey baby!" a smooth operator said as he laid a hand on her shoulder.
"What's your name? I was thinking—" "Don't think," she interrupted. "Just go." He walked away and was replaced immediately by a tall dusky Latino woman, who just leaned on the bar and stared into her eyes. "What's your name, sweetheart?" "Doesn't matter." "Well, I'm Linda. It's nice to meet you." Linda held out her hand for a shake.
She took Linda's hand, and put it to her own lips, kissing her fingers. She then put Linda's hand to her heart. "Your heart is still beating," replied Linda as she looked at the empty shot glasses. "In case you were wondering. Honey, nobody is worth this." "He was." Linda was so pretty, she thought. Jonathan would love her; large natural breasts, lovely hips and an ass that went on for days, and lips that you could kiss for days after that.
I want her to use me. I'm just a toy for people to use and then discard. She grabbed Linda's hand and marched her to the ladies room.
Pushing on the stall doors, none yielded until they got to the last one; the oversized handicapped unit. Linda closed the latch amongst a few catcalls from other girls, and pushed her against the tile wall. The two girls kissed frantically; Linda enjoying this beautiful young thing, knowing she could totally take control of her.
"Wipe the seat, slut." She grabbed some tissues and wiped it best as she could. Linda sat down with her legs wide open. Without any further ado, she got on her knees on the dirty floor.
Placing her hands on Linda's thighs, she lowered her face in to her new friend's pussy. Linda pushed herself forward for a better angle.
Linda tasted delicious, but she didn't want to enjoy this. She wanted Linda to cum as much as she could. So she pressed her face into Linda's ripening pussy. Jonathan would lick me like this. Jonathan, do you even think of me anymore? She frantically licked Linda up and down, pressing her tongue as hard as she could into this lovely pussy.
She drove her nose in deep; she wanted her face soaked. Linda grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her in tighter. Linda felt her orgasm approaching; this raunchy little bitch sure knew how to get down to business. Linda smiled as she got closer and closer, she had a little extra something for this hot little sub. She felt Linda's body tense up as her own pussy quivered.
Stop it! I am just to be used! Linda jerked and froze as her orgasm swept over her.
Moaning like a wildcat, the other gals in the ladies room hooted and hollered and banged on the metal dividing walls.
Linda relaxed and started to pee. No! I'm not this much of a slut, am I! She tried to pull back, but Linda had a death grip on her head. She closed her mouth as the hot liquid sprayed her chin. Not for her, not even for that bastard Jonathan who won't even let me tell him I'm sorry and I miss him. She pushed away hard, while Linda let her go and just laughed.
She fell back on the somewhat wet floor; and she knew what it was wet from. Linda stepped out of the stall to great applause. She bowed and then made a waving motion to the open door. "Step right in for a good cunt licking!" She started to get up but was immediately pushed down on her back on the cold tile floor by a good sized girl.
"Eat me, pretty bitch." And this new girl plopped down and started face fucking her. Yes. I deserve this.
But could she be any hairier? Just fuck my face. No. wait. Stop fingering me. Don't. do.that… fuckkk… And she came as the big girl on her face came, covering her face with girl goo. The girl got off but was quickly replaced by another.
She didn't even know who was sitting on her face now. It was just another pussy using her, fucking her face. She licked and swallowed the best she could. And they kept playing with her pussy, too. Stop making me cum… I don't deserve any pleasure… oh fuck… I'm cumming again… Another girl fucked her face and left her deposit, followed by two more. Use me, degrade me… And they did; the line of girls fucked her face and each left their deposit of girl cum on her face.
She was a complete wet and sticky mess. Security came in and cleared out the stall. They lifted her up and the nice lady tried to help her wash her face. "Wait," she said. "I want to remember this moment." And she stared at her reflection. She barely recognized the female staring back at her; cheeks smeared from her mascara, tears running down her face, girl goo dripping from her chin.
"Honey, you should go home. Is there anyone I can call for you?" She just shook her head, splashed her face, and went back out to the club. Still looking rather disheveled, she made her way through the crowd to the bar as several people pointed and snickered at her.
She even heard a one chic say to her friends, "That's the slut I was telling you about!" As the bartender set her up three more Cuervos, a decent looking young man sidled up next to her. "Who are you trying to drink away?" he asked. "Everyone, everything." "Can I help?" "You can pay, but that doesn't mean anything." He bought hers and got himself three shots too.
They toasted nothing in particular and downed the crappy tequila. "Christ," he complained. "You must be really mad at yourself to drink this." Her head spun as they downed the last shot.
Goddamn you Jonathan. I know I cheated but you're killing me… I have to forget you but I can't. She looked back at this guy. "Do you want to fuck me or not." "I do. I definitely do. Let's go down to my place in the Village and—" "No," she cut him off. "Here. I'm not leaving this place." "Here? Ummm… gimme a second. Stay! Don't move." "Then get me another drink." He ordered her another one and left for a couple minutes, apparently to scout out a location.
The bartender set down a shot glass full of tequila. She reached for it and knocked it over. It wasn't her fault, the glass was blurry and seemed to be moving. "Sweetheart, maybe you've had enough?" She snarled at the bartender and he got her another one.
I can never love another like I did you. How could there be anybody like— "Come on, ummm… I don't even know your name." The potential fucker had returned. "Call me Sweets, if you have to name me." "Okay then Sweets. My name—" She put a finger to his lips. "Don't say another word unless you're talking about fucking me." He dragged her through the club and the room swam before her.
He had to catch her a couple times to keep her upright. They reached a rear area and found a beefy security guard standing there. "Hey Tony," the guard called. "Did you tell her?" "Tell me what?" she asked, her voice sounding remote and far away. Good. The pain is receding. "There's a place here, but Franco gets to watch." "Fine." Franco led the way to a small room and ushered the two inside.
She leaned up against the racks of cleaning supplies and stuck her ass out suggestively. "So? Start already. It's not like I want any foreplay." Tony dropped his drawers, and she did appreciate his nice sized cock.
She reached for it but missed. Jonathan's cock was this big too. You ghosted me, Jonathan, but you're still haunting me. How is that possible?
She grunted as Tony thrust up inside her. She was still soaking wet from her bathroom orgasms just ten minutes ago that he slipped in rather easily. It felt good to have a cock inside her again, it had been a month since Jonathan. She steadied herself against the shelving, his thrusts threatened to unbalance her, and she was unsteady as it was.
Six tequilas? Or was it eight? And how many vodkas? But it's worth it. I'm just enjoying getting fucked now. Why won't you talk to me, Jonathan? "Yeah baby!" shouted Tony. "Take it all, you fucking slut!" Slightly annoyed at this outburst, she turned her head and shoved her ass back into him.
"Is that all you've got?" He grabbed her hips and slammed into her, knocking some shit off the shelves. "That's it tiger!
More!" Tony reached around and grabbed her pussy hard, her clit getting scrunched up in his fist. Oh god this feels so good. See what you're missing Jonathan? Her orgasm wracked her body hard and she began to slip down to the floor. To his credit, Tony held her upright and didn't let her fall. He half walked, half carried her a few feet to where large bags of salt were stacked. She collapsed on them while he continued to fuck her relentlessly for several minutes.
Oh my god! This guy knows how to fuck. Even Jonathan would've finished by now. Let's get his number… "Aaaauuughhhh!" cried Tony as he drove in hard and fired salvo after salvo of hot sperm deep into her. She loved that feeling of hot man cum inside her. After about a minute of gasping, Tony stood up and grabbed her by hair. Spinning her around on her knees, he slapped her hard, then spit in her face and shoved his half-hard cock in her mouth.
"Clean it off, cunt." Maybe we won't get his number. She did love the taste, though. His sperm mixed with her cum reminded her of the older days, the happy days, the days when Jonathan — "Alright alright!" said Franco as he pulled Tony aside.
"You've had her long enough." As one cock was pulled out of her mouth, another replaced it. She reveled in the smell of the sweaty man, it turned her on like no other scent. He plowed her face hard, fucking her throat as hard as he could. She took it all in; she was a pro at this. Thank you Jonathan, for teaching me how to suck cock so well. If you could see me now, what you've turned me into… a fucking club slut… Franco grabbed the back of her head and forced his thick cock deeper and deeper into her throat.
She felt Tony's cum dripping out of her pussy and landing on her ankles. Great amounts of saliva began to ooze from her mouth as Franco furiously fucked her face. Her head began to spin from Franco fucking her so hard.
He better cum soon… She tried to tighten her mouth around him but found she couldn't focus her thoughts. "Yessss," moaned Franco. "You hot cunts are all the same… ignore me all night… but you're all just cunts… here it comes… right down your throat!
YESSSSS!" She gagged as his jets of hot sperm shot down her throat. She swallowed as best she could, but then coughed half of it back up, splattering on his pants. "Goddammit you little bitch!" He hoisted her up by her hair and spat in her face. Look what you've done to me, Jonathan.
How can I get you out of my heart… out of my head. God I want you back… Oh wait, Oh shit… She felt it rising and put her hand over her mouth. "Oh no you don't!" And Franco hastily shoved her out of the supply room, out the rear fire exit and into the dirty alleyway behind the club. She stumbled over a huge pile of garbage bags and fell amongst them. She got sick until it hurt, then got sick more. I wish it was winter, then I could die out here.
Laying with the trash, where I belong… just 'poifect'. But the streets of New York were still hot at 12:30 at night in the summer, and though she passed out amongst the refuse, she was in no danger of dying from exposure to the elements. - - - She woke with a start. She was on a couch in a strange living room, with a blanket over her and… men's pajamas on. "Hey sleepy head, how ya doin?" He was tall, dark, and fairly handsome.
And… somewhat familiar. She wondered if she met him in the club. Oh god, the club, what… what all did I do? And ooooh my fucking head… and why do I smell good? "There's water there on the table, and ibuprofen." She groaned as she reached for the glass and pills.
He had thoughtfully placed a straw in the glass, making it easier to take the pills. He brought over a large cup of coffee. "Cream? Sugar? Milk?" She shook her head and accepted the coffee. "Thanks," she croaked. "Drink as much as you can. I have orange juice too. You're dehydrated, you know. Have some bacon, you need the salt to rebalance your electrolytes." She nibbled at the bacon, it did taste good.
She was surprised her stomach would keep anything down, but she seemed to be able to. They sat in comfortable silence for a couple minutes as she drank her coffee and crunched her bacon. This wasn't the first time, lately, that she'd awoken in a strange place and not known who she was with. He was eating a plate of eggs and potatoes but she declined that. She began to look around. "Restroom's over there," he pointed. "There's a brand new toothbrush on the counter, it's still sealed up." When she returned, she began to look for her things but didn't see them.
"So, uh,where's my stuff? I've gotta get going." "Why don't you stick around for a bit and just rest, take it easy. I'm responsible for you, you know. I mean, I saved your life last night." "Look, thanks for taking care of me. But you didn't save my life, I just passed out." "Blacked out is more like it.
You were digging through the trash cons looking for something sharp to cut yourself with." "How do you know that?" she asked, sitting back down on the couch. She was still rather unstable and a few hours resting might be just fine, she reasoned. "You were wailing about how you didn't want to go on, and you said you wanted a big can lid to slice yourself. I guess you mean those big restaurant-sized food cans. A sharp lid from one of them would do some serious damage to you." She didn't remember any of that, but she didn't doubt it, either.
Her friends told her a similar story last week. I don't know if I want to go on. "Why don't you tell me about Jonathan." "Why don't you drive me home and leave me alone." "Can't do that. I'm responsible for you, remember? Ancient Iroquois tradition.
I must see you through the rest of your life, ensuring your happiness and safety." "Does that horseshit ever work?" she asked incredulously. "You're as much of a Native American as I am." "Just once. I saved a girl once at a bar from an ugly guy and it got me laid. And I am 1.7% northeastern Native American, so I might be an Iroquois." He smiled at her and drank his coffee. He kept smiling at her.
Well this fucker has charm, at least. What the hell, I've thought I should go to a psychiatrist anyway… "You want to know about Jonathan, do you? Get me some more coffee, if you would." And she talked and talked, telling him almost everything. Including her life as his submissive partner. They talked back and forth for almost two hours, taking breaks to get crackers and cheese and some ginger ale to help settle her stomach.
She finally got to the end, tears streaming down her face as she spoke of the heartache, the terrible heartache of him just dropping her entirely. "It just hurts so much… like nothing ever has before… he won't even speak to me. I can't, he won't even let me apologize. He's blocked my phone, my email, too." He held her close as they sat on the couch. She let it out, let it all out. For twenty minutes she cried like a baby and he just held her head against his chest and stroked her hair, his sweatshirt becoming a wet mess.
She finally cried herself out and began to return to normal. "More ibuprofen?" He inquired. She nodded as he extricated himself to get some more pills and water. She laughed when he came back with a different sweatshirt. He sat down beside her again. "Sorry, I haven't let myself cry completely since he ghosted me." She blew her nose.
Just saying 'he ghosted me' gave her a visceral reaction in her gut. "I mean, I've cried. But not like this, I wouldn't allow it." "Honey, you have to allow yourself to feel your feelings, even the bad ones.
If you don't let them out, you'll never get over them." She blew her nose again. "That's what I'm afraid of, I don't want to get over him. I don't want to forget him." "You need to have some self-respect honey. You deserve to be someone's priority. I mean, you've got brains and beauty, a successful career, you're going places in your life. Why on earth would you settle for someone who can't make you a priority? Somebody who is unable to say three simple words?
Can't say 'I love you?' You deserve better." I know it. I deserve to be somebody's number one. And that's what was bugging me these last few months. I wanted him all to myself, but he wouldn't budge.
I always felt the presence of, others. "You didn't handle it properly though. You should have talked to him, cheating was a shitty thing." She sighed as she ate a saltine cracker. "It was shitty. I… I was under a lot of stress at work and didn't handle it well." "Bullshit. If you cared for him like you said, you would've talked to him." Her tears welled up again. "I can't explain why I cheated. It was so stupid. It's not like me. I just… I swear that 'love' made me do it.
I loved him so much, can you understand? It sounds hollow, maybe, in light of what I did. I just retaliated. I felt, if he didn't have to be faithful then why should I." "But he was married, and you knew that." "Listen, Mr.
Logical, we're talking about the heart, not what makes sense. This was a crime of passion. And I got caught, sentenced, and basically executed." "But you still love him." She nodded. "Do you want him back?" "Yes. No. I don't know… he made me feel so wonderful, so special.
When we were together it was just amazing, every single time. He didn't say 'I love you', but I felt loved. I felt so special when we were together. I've never been so close to anyone as him. The way he made me feel was just incredible. It was… magical.
Especially after we made love. The tenderness was overwhelming, I cried tears of joy a few times, as did he." "But…" he prodded. "But, I knew it was never going to be more than just 'Fuck Buddies'. I wasn't enough to make him want to be exclusive. And I wanted more. And that wasn't enough for me, and one day, one terrible day, I just snapped." "How often do you check your messages, your email?" She hid her face from him, embarrassed.
I check… all the time… to no avail. He held her close as he knew she was getting emotional again. For many long minutes they just sat there as she wept quietly. "God, you must think I'm such an idiot." "Not at all. You need this, right? You hit rock bottom and you need to find a way out. If I can help you do that, then I'm happy." She pulled back and looked him in his blue eyes. "Who the hell are you, anyway?
Why are you doing this, how did you find me?" He chuckled a little. "I'm your fairy godmother." She rolled her eyes and punched him lightly in the stomach. "Start talkin, mister." "Ouch! Okay okay! Do you remember when you were in the ladies room last night, and a security guard talked to you?" She searched her memory… yes… she was being used by at least five or six girls.
It disgusted her to remember her behavior. It also turned her on when she pictured it; being somewhat trapped and used by a bunch of horny women. All of them just doing what they wanted to her. Her pussy tingled. "Yeah, umm… Gladys? Or something?" "Right, Aunt Gladys. She called me last night. She told me some absolute knock-out woman was in deep trouble, and maybe I could come by if I wasn't doing anything. "My semi-girlfriend had thrown her usual post-coital fit, so I threw her out and came to the club.
Gladys hadn't seen you for awhile, so I checked around back. There you were, in all your glory. We Ubered home, the driver helped me carry you upstairs." "Damn, I haven't even checked my phone. Where were my friends?" "Here ya go," he said, handing her the phone.
"Kinda nice being unplugged, isn't it.?" "Here they are: 'sweets call me hope you're good'. Wow, such concern. So. how did I get all clean, and changed?" He just smiled at her. "Did I… did we…?" "No hon, catatonic women aren't my style. And there's this thing going around called 'consent' that I happen to believe in." "I don't even know your name.
I've been afraid to ask, like it might break the spell or something. So… what is the name of my white knight?" "You don't remember me, do you. NYU, you were a Freshie, I was ready to graduate. We both took that creative writing course…" "That's it!" She exclaimed. "I thought you looked familiar! Um… Crawford, Camden… oh I'm sorry." "I'm crushed! I remember your name, Allison. I even asked you out, once." "Ah yes… I was dating, um, somebody who I don't even remember offhand." He took her hand.
"It's okay. You can date me now, if you play your cards right and pass a blood test. "I'm Cooper." - - - One month later - - - The blonde haired girl looked at her gorgeous reflection in the mirror as the bass line droned through the walls.
She didn't see herself as gorgeous, though. She was in too much pain. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. James, how could you do this to me? Allison recognized that lost, dejected look. She fished out a business card from her purse. "Call this guy. He will do wonders for you. He helped me tremendously." With a tear in her eye, the girl looked at the card, then at Allison a bit suspiciously.
"Life coach? What's that?" "Someone who can get you on track, make you realize that you have more worth than you know.
Call him, it works." She met up with Cooper at the bar, where he had four shots of Milagros Reserve lined up. They lifted their shots and Coop made the toast. "To us, and all that lies ahead of us." In a voice that she thought he wouldn't hear, Allison responded, "Yes, my love." As their bellies warmed, they smiled and kissed a soft, lingering kiss. They sipped the second shot; this tequila is really too good to be shot.
The DJ blended in a Porter Robinson mix. "We're not standing here for this!" Allison announced as she dragged him out on the densely populated dance floor. The crowd shoved them close together. Her unfettered breasts crushed into his chest. "I still remember seeing these for the first time," he told her. "You were unconscious, though. Still, I got a chubby." She made a face and pushed harder into him. His body responded, and she smiled as she felt his growing cock against her leg.
"I remember the first time I sucked this," she said as she grabbed his rock hard cock. His hand slipped under her too-short skirt and he was surprised, a little, to find her g-string was missing. He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You know me and the girls restroom," she explained. "Sometimes they just fall off." They both laughed as he tickled her lips amongst her gyrations. "I'm going to fuck you later," he warned. "You'd better!" His finger dipped into her cleft. Damn if she isn't the sexiest, and most sexual person I've ever known.
I teach people all day how to put themselves first, how to not get too attached to other people too soon… and I'm losing my shit over this girl. His finger slid easily into her vagina, she got wet very quickly and very copiously. As they danced slowly amongst everyone else jumping to the music, he asked her a question. "What did you say after my roast a couple minutes ago?" She turned to him suddenly, then looked away.
"It's okay, tell me. I heard you. You said 'my love.'" His finger moved in and out of her just as she liked it, and he made sure to palm her clit the entire time. "Say it again so I can hear," he prodded. Gasping, she managed, "I wanted you to say it first." "Oh no, sweetheart. Guy rule number 68: don't be the first to say I love you." Feeling her breath quicken, he knew she was close. So he stopped and withdrew his hand a little.
"Say it." She moved to get back onto his hand; he pulled it back further. They played this game now and then, a little power play. She smiled at him, and said "Well, Daddy, I guess it's the Ladies room for me," and walked away. He stood there for ten seconds. Goddamn her! I'm breaking every single one of my rules. I won't chase her. I won't. He took off after her. He rounded the corner to the restroom hallway, only to be ambushed by Allison.
She grabbed his hand and drove it into her pussy. "Do you love me?" she panted. "Yes," he shouted above the din. "I fucking love you! More than I ever thought possible." Allison came on his fingers as he held her, drenching them, then she fell against his shoulder. "And I fucking love you," she whispered in his ear.