Jaded by this tide of debris, he fisted the chick’s hair and pulled his dick out of her mouth. “Get up,” he panted.
“What?” Blonde looked up at him with her big doe eyes.
“I’m gonna fuck you.” He offered a hand to help her. “Now.”
Completely oblivious to the chaos going on inside of him, she stood up. While she tugged her shorts and thong down her tanned legs, Chris reached for his wallet and got a condom out of it. After making sure she was wet enough to not hurt her, he spun her around and, without wasting another second, drove himself into her cunt with a powerful thrust.
“Oh, God!” she whined.
Back and forth, as their clothes pooled at their ankles, he relentlessly drilled into her, his hips hitting her ass at a punishing pace as he locked both of her arms on her back with one hand. The slapping of skin drowned the incoherent noise in his head. However, it did nothing to put out the fire burning in the pit of his stomach.
Sweat began to run down his temples and spine. He could feel her frenzy building, but his was nowhere to be found. Clenching his jaw, Chris tried to focus on the sensation of his sheathed dick rubbing warm inside of her, on the sounds she was making, and her buttocks bouncing against him with every thrust. He could feel the pleasure. Was loving the way this woman was taking his dick and squeezing it, the friction against the tiled surface forcing her massive tits out of her tee and bra. Yet his brain seemed to have disconnected and wasn’t responding to anything.
Their breaths turned ragged from the exertion, and soon she was moaning, begging in loud wails for him to fuck her harder. Which he did. One. Two. Three. He rammed into her mercilessly, and with her body trapped between the wall and Chris, the blonde cried out. Her muscles tensed and relaxed in spasms.
Chris kept driving himself into her for a few more minutes, chasing his own release as she squirmed in his arms. To his surprise, his dick got the message and spurt into the condom like a damn jet. That was about it. Some throbbing and semen. The sensory overload that usually started on his cock and spread through every corner of his being when he climaxed hadn’t even peeped, making the entire experience fall flat, shamefully so. Still, for reasons he didn’t understand, he grunted while biting her shoulder, faking his orgasm.
Fuck!This had never happened before. How was it even possible?
As he withdrew from her, both of them gasped.
“That was amazing,” she said, turning around and pulling him in for a quick kiss.
“Yeah.” He took off the condom to toss it in the bin outside.
Yup, full like a motherfucker. But where’s my orgasm?
“If you ever come to the city again”—she began sorting herself, zipping her shorts and readjusting her tits—“you should let me know, so we could have some fun again.”
“That’d be great,” Chris agreed while buttoning his pants, but he wasn’t listening to her, his mind still boggled. How in the hell had he ejaculated but not actually peaked?
Between giggles and awkward chuckles, the guitarist opened the door of the stall and they stepped out, only to come face to face with Marc, of course. Because it couldn’t have been any other way.
The two men stared at each other without saying a word. Chris’s lungs shrunk and every drop of oxygen left his body, the hurt in the bassist’s eyes too much for him to bear.
“Hmm… I’ll see you outside,” Blonde said, reading the discomfort in the air, even if she had no idea what was going on. She tiptoed to kiss his cheek and rushed out of the door.
The atmosphere went cold, and the tension soared the moment they were left alone with the muffled music and their thumping heartbeats echoing all over the space separating them. He was feeling dizzy for very different reasons now.
Hostility. Fear. Guilt. It all weighed down on the guitarist’s chest as if someone had filled it with concrete and it was just solidifying now, sinking him under the sea.
“Hey,” he tossed with a strained voice as he moved over to the sinks and threw the condom into the bin, avoiding looking the bassist in the eye.
“Hey,” Marc said as he popped out of his own stupor and walked towards the urinals.
Chris could have gotten out of there—turned around, grabbed the door handle, and left his friend behind. Sure, he needed to wash the stickiness of the sexual fluids exchanged off his hands, though, considering the situation, running for the hills should have been easier. Yet he didn’t. And not because that annoying voice in his head wasn’t screaming at him to do it, but because he couldn’t. Something he didn’t comprehend had him bound to this man.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna start thinking you’re more interested in my dick than you claim you are,” Marc said.
“What?” The vein on Chris’s neck pulsed violently as he glared at him through their reflection in the mirror. However, instead of snapping at him, he bit his tongue and took a deep breath through his nose. There was no use in starting a fight here, with both of them drunk enough to end up injured in the stupidest way. Besides, he hadn’t noticed, but he had been staring at him while he was peeing. Why? No idea. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Jeez…” Marc rolled his eyes before turning his face away. “I was kidding, dude.”
“Well, don’t.” The last thing he needed was him being nice or joking about this shit that had him so bewildered.
“Chris…” He zipped up his jeans. “I know you’re probably feeling a little confused now—”
“You know fucking nothing, Zimmer.”
