A low growl sounds in my ear, breath hot against my skin. “Keep watching.”
It’s too loud in here to be able to recognize the voice. I understand the words, but that’s all. Music thuds against my eardrums. I can’t even recognize the man’s scent, because the air is thick with cigarette smoke, alcohol, aftershave, and the smell of sex.
I whimper and try to pull away. His grip on me is too strong. I try to turn around to see who it is, but he jerks my face back around, so my gaze is lined up with the show happening on the pool table.
The low growl comes again. “Eyes forward.”
Perhaps I should scream, alert someone to what’s happening, but I don’t know if I’ll be heard above the raucous din of the bar, and deep down, I’m not sure I even want to be. That dark part of me burning in my core wants to see where this is heading.
He’s tall, I can tell that much, and solid, but thathardly narrows it down. It could be any one of these bikers.
Rough fingers graze up the backs of my bare thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. My nipples harden, and my pussy pulses with need. I desperately want to be touched. Right now, I’d switch places with the woman on the pool table and let the tattooed biker fuck me. Perhaps I could keep my legs spread and let biker after biker take me, emptying themselves into me. I imagine Jack finding me like that, exhausted and spent, my pussy dripping with multiple men’s cum, and how angry he’d be. That would serve him right for not taking me when I offered myself to him.
I know the thought is spiteful, and I’d never actually do it, not least because it would be a crazy way to lose my virginity, but the thought still turns me on.
A hand slips between my legs, and I find myself stepping my feet apart to give him easier access. God, what am I doing? I must be losing my mind. It’s as if I’m unmoored from reality in this place, in the same way events have made me unmoored from my life. Everything is in flux, and it scares me so much that I want to feel anything but that dread sitting in my belly.
This is better. As fucked up as this is, it’s so preferable to my lingering fear of the future.
Fingers push against my panty-clad pussy, pressing the material against my folds, and I whimper.
“Wet,” the man hisses behind me, and it’s still too low for me to make out his voice.
A sense of familiarity fills me, though. Jack? Is it Jack? Or is that just wishful thinking?
The stranger pulls my panties to one side and slides one thick finger inside me. I cry out, my legs going weak,but he holds me up. I should tell him no, even scream, but I want to find my release. I need this so badly, I no longer care who gives it to me. He keeps his hold on my face, so I’m unable to turn around to see who it is. He adds a second finger, pumping into me.
It’s dark, and I try to glance down, to get a look at the stranger’s forearm, or hand, anything to give me some idea of whose fingers are now pumping inside my pussy. My legs tremble, and my stomach muscles are taut. Despite myself, I lean back against the person behind me, needing them to steady me. But I’m also seeking familiarity, trying to work out if this man is a stranger to me.
To anyone else, it would just look like I’m standing here, still holding my drink, with a biker standing behind me. Not that anyone is looking at us, not when there’s a literal porn show happening only a few feet away. The couple are full-on fucking now. She’s lying flat on the table, her tits bouncing with every thrust. His jeans are halfway down his thighs, and his bare ass is clenched.
Now I’m getting finger fucked myself, and I can feel my orgasm building. My clit is swollen and throbbing and desperate for his touch. The man behind me slides his fingers from my pussy to pay attention to me there, trapping my clitoris between his fore and middle finger, squeezing, pulsing. I grind against his hand. My gaze is still locked on the couple fucking on the pool table. I’m gushing wet. His hand is still locked on my jaw, not allowing me to turn my head.
It’s so erotic, the way he’s holding my throat while he works my pussy. The dominance of the hold he has over me makes my legs weak, and my breath catches in my throat.
I want to believe it’s Jack, but am I just trying toconvince myself? It could be any of the men here. Both Rook and Ghost have vanished, so perhaps it’s one of them behind me? I’m not sure Rook would be so forthright, but Ghost… well, he’s completely unreadable, so maybe he would, if he thought he could do it anonymously. Then again, he also doesn’t seem interested in me that way half the time. He’s an enigma, that’s for sure.
The man at the pool table slides out of the woman, and I catch a glimpse of his cock, thick and dark red, and shining with their combined arousal. He turns her over, planting her feet on the floor and bending her over the pool table. He pushes into her from behind. She turns her face to the side and locks eyes with me again. My heart jumps. Can she tell what’s happening to me? Does she know the man behind me? Then she gives me a tiny smile and turns away.
The man behind me continues to rub my clit, and I know I’m going to come any second. My breathing grows ragged, and cries of ‘oh, oh, oh’ escape my lips. Whoever this man is doesn’t realize how loud I am when I come. Even though it’s noisy in here, people might notice if I’m screaming the place down. I’m thankful we’re in a darkened corner. I’m not as brave as the woman on the pool table, and I don’t want everyone looking at me.
His hand slides from my jaw to my mouth, and I cry out against his palm as sparks burst and pleasure races through me like a bushfire, combusting every nerve ending in my body.
I crumble, spilling my drink and almost folding in two. My orgasm goes on and on, and still, he continues to work me. On the pool table, the couple also reachtheir peak, hips thrusting and backs arching as they come together.
I’m breathing hard, the floor no longer solid beneath me. The man releases his hold on me, and his hand vanishes from between my thighs.
I need to move quickly, to see whose hand I’ve just climaxed on, but my head is spinning and my limbs don’t work. I lean against the wall beside me, needing to catch my breath and orient myself.
By the time I turn, the side door behind me swings shut.
“Shit.”
I gather myself enough to follow. I set my now empty drink down on a nearby table—something I should have done ten minutes ago—and burst through the door into the night air. I turn in one direction and then the next, but there’s no one around.
A wave of shame sweeps over me, but I do my best to push it away. Wasn’t this what I wanted? To be sexually awakened and free?
Now the initial high of my climax is wearing off, I just want to hide. I tell myself I know the man who was touching me… it must have been Jack, or maybe Ace, or even Ghost… but the fact is that it could just as easily been a stranger. One of the bikers spotted me standing in the dark corner, watching that couple fucking, and decided they wanted to fuck around with me, too. I should be grateful they only used their fingers. What if they’d tried to use their cock? Would I have just stood there and let them, braced myself as some stranger shoved his dick inside me and let myself come all over it? Could I have lost my virginity to a man when I didn’t even know what he looked like?
