SLIPPING INTO DEPRAVITY - Ch. 05, Leroy Returns for more

KAYLEY "Buy a girl a drink, handsome stranger," I said, taking the seat next to him. "Well hello... Kayley," he grinned, looking me up and d

KAYLEY POV

"Buy a girl a drink, handsome stranger," I said, taking the seat next to him.

"Well hello... Kayley," he grinned, looking me up and down with naked appraisal.

"You remember me," I replied happily, smiling back. I expected him too. But there's no harm in a little fun. Or a little flirting.

"You're hard to forget," he replied. He finished his appraisal. "Looking good."

I was looking good. I'd styled my red hair, and had gone light on the make-up. I was wearing my red dress, form fitting, low cut with spaghetti straps and plunging cleavage. I couldn't wear a bra with this dress, and I could tell my nipples were hardening visibly. Black stockings and high heeled ankle boots completed my look.

It was a classier look, we'd been going to a more upscale club. Stopping in here had been a last minute impulse.

You know what a woman likes? She likes it when a man looks her up and down like he wants to fuck her. Sheer naked appreciation and lust, there's something exhilarating about it, something honest and damned sexy. Too often, when you meet men, they're guarded, carefully neutral. There's something about a man, where you can plainly see him thinking 'I'd like to fuck that.'

Of course, that's from fuckable guys, not creepy guys. The ones with dark stares, the ones whose eyes are hooded with brooding resentments, those aren't fun. There's no pleasure, there's no appreciation, just hunger and hatred.

It's about the smile, the attitude. It's hard to explain, but you can feel the ones that think its fun, that see you as an object, but an object to be enjoyed. The ones with the smiles. The ones that seem like they take pleasure. That look at you and decide they like you.

They say women like bad boys. But that's not true. Women like men that like to fuck, that look at them with appreciation and pleasure. You know they don't just want to come in you, they want to fuck, to enjoy you, not to finish and go.

"Thanks. I was going to go out with some friends," I told him. "But I decided to stop in here for a second to check things out."

"Well, I'm glad you did." He grinned. He was so sleazy it made me shiver. "Pull up, girl. You asked for a drink."

He put his hand on my ass, but only lightly and higher up, taking control, guiding me up onto a bar stool. He waved to the bartender, who came right over.

"Chuck," he said. "Cabernet for the lady."

As I settled on the stool, his hand landed on top of my thigh, the edge of his hand just slightly under my dress. He worked fast.

"You remembered," I said.

He laughed.

"You drank red wine," he said. "Place like this, all they have in red is a Cabernet. I should take you someplace that has better wines. I used to be a sommelier."

"Bullshit," I laughed. He smiled and shrugged, his hand moving up just a little, sliding forward to the inside of my thigh. Our bar stools were very close together. He'd pulled it close as he was seating me.

"I didn't expect to see you here," I said, more to make conversation than anything else.

The truth was, I'd walked into the bar hoping he'd be here. If he hadn't, I'd probably have turned around and left. Like I said, we had other places to be.

I placed my purse, opened with the phone inside and live, on the counter between us. Sam should be coming in and taking a seat to watch us. Was anyone else watching, I wondered. I'd fucked two strangers in this bar within the last couple of weeks. Were stories getting around? Was I recognized.

"I show up now and then," he said. "I like to spread the love. I was hoping to see you again."

"Oh?"

His hand moved up slightly. I was already wet. He was so fucking bold and sleazy, it was breathtaking.

Derek had been okay, he'd been charming enough, but he'd been timid, sneaking looks, working his way up to asking me out. Leroy on that first night had flat out propositioned me for sex in the men's room.

Boldness was exciting. It meant confidence, and skill, and desire.

So yeah, he was an over the hill, sleazy, low-rent barfly drinking his life away in some shithole bar, and our previous fuck had been five minutes with a broken condom and I hadn't even come. But fuck all that, he was sexy as hell, and I'd wanted to see him again.

"Yeah," he said his voice pitched low, leaning forward. The bar was noisier, more crowded tonight. I leaned forward to listen through the noise, feeling my breasts shift forwards, he looked and didn't bother to hide it. I worried a little that with the background noise, Sam wouldn't be able to hear much. "I felt like we had unfinished business. You disappearing like Cinderella and all."

I laughed.

"It felt like you finished your business," I teased.

"Oh don't be like that," he grinned. "We had fun."

His hand slipped further up my dress. Jesus, he was bold. We were sitting close together, leaning towards each other, my knee touching the inside of his knee. It would be hard to see, unless you were watching.

But Christ, we were out in the open in a par, sitting on stools. His hand was half way up my dress, almost at the band on top of my stocking. Bold! You see why I'd wanted to see him again.

I should close my legs, clamp my thighs together. I didn't. I should take his wrist and gently remove his hand from my person. I didn't.

Instead, he swiveled ever so slightly on his stool, and his other knee, the knee that pressed against the inside of my other knee, casually, innocently, pushed it a little further, spread my legs a little wider, though no one could see. I let it. His hand crept up a little further, his fingers on the band of my stocking.

I pretended not to notice.

My heart was racing.

"Oh hey," he said. "I'm not taking you away from your friends, am I?"

"Friends?"

"The friends you were going out with?" he reminded me.

"Oh them," I blinked, "they can go fuck themselves."

He chuckled in a way that made my panties wet.

My mouth was so dry, I had to straighten up, and grab the wine glass, swallowing hard. I was vividly aware of how the motion brought my breasts together and pushed my cleavage forward, and knew he stared appreciatively.

He hunched a little forward, fingers teased the edges of bare flesh at the top of my stocking. Involuntarily, my thighs closed slightly, I trembled. Was I flushed?

"You do remind me of Cinderella," he said.

"Because I turn into a pumpkin at midnight?" I teased.

Gentle pressure against the inside of my knee, hardly noticeable. If you were talking, distracted, you might not even be aware. Bullshit. I was so aware, even as I gave way, millimeter by millimeter.

"No," he said, "it's the way Cinderella ran away, and the Prince wanted to find her so bad. He wanted more of her. Because she fit so well, tight and snug, but just... fit."

What a clumsy entendre.

"I seem to remember an article of clothing went missing from the ball," I said, remembering my panties. I was pretty sure he'd stolen them.

"No," he said, "it's all about sliding in and see how it fit. I think you came back looking for something that slipped right in you, something big and thick that felt so good. I think you came back for more of what I have for you."

"Well, if we're talking about things that fit, I think we both ended up uncovered and bare." I whispered into his ear, bending forward a little further, my thighs widening just a little more. "I thought you wore shoes to the dance, but when you came you were bare foot and splashed in my pond. You were a very bad boy."

His arm moved, his fingers brushed my panties. I blushed bright and hot, drawing in a deep breath. How was anyone not noticing? Was Sam seeing this? Was I putting on a show for strangers?

"A very bad boy!" I repeated.

"I'm very bad," he agreed. "But you didn't mind, did you?"

"I suppose."

"I think you kind of liked it?" he said, "The natural feeling, skin to skin."

"The mess."

He smiled, not even a little apologetic. I had to wonder if the condom breaking was entirely an accident.

A finger pressed against my panties, against the lips, pushing them apart, and moving smoothly upwards, until it pushed against my clit. My legs trembled and closed on his arm. But he didn't yield, and my thighs, trembling, fell back, defeated. I took a shuddering breath.

"I like your panties," he said.

"Silk," I told him..

"Feels nice."

"Red," I said.

"I know," Leroy replied. I could feel his fingertips probing, exploring the fabric, and the sensitive flesh underneath. I could feel him tracing my lips, exploring my clitoris, brushing against my pubes.

"Oh," I challenged. "How would you know that?"

"I got a feel for these things." He found the boundary of my panties, tracing the edges of them, fingertip wavering along the soft skin.

"Mmm hmm," I agreed. I tried to look stern. "Do you plan to steal them?"

"I intend on removing them," he said. He pressed against my clit, circling in a way that made my breath hitch, and my heart pound. Then he'd slide down, pressing the silk between my parted wet lips, drawing the fabric together at the narrowest so that I could feel fingertips on my bare flesh. I was blushing nonstop.

"I'm sure I have no idea why you would be interested in that," I said primly. "But I think they might stay on this time."

"I wouldn't bet on it."

"I think you might be out of luck."

"I feel very lucky."

"I am, after all, a very good girl."

"But..." he said, "I'm a very bad guy."

His fingertips pushed the narrow band of panties aside, plunging against my wet lips, opening them, but not quite entering. I gasped out loud.

"Holy shit!" I whispered.

"Excuse me?" he teased. His two fingertips moved smoothly up, pushing, twisting the fabric of my panties, pushing them aside. I felt two bare fingers on either side of my suddenly exposed clitoris.

"Holy shit!" I gasped. "Holy fuck! What are you doing?"

Was this ten minutes? Was this even five?

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes!" I said. "No!" Wait. "Maybe!" I sucked in a breath. "In... a minute?"

Leroy whispered to me. "We both know that there's only one reason you walked into this bar, and that's to get railed by my big cock. You want that pussy split open in the way your husban-"

"Boyfriend."

"You want to get done the way your boyfriend can't."

"He's pretty big too," I said defensively, and gasped loudly, as a finger stroked and circled my bare clit. It was like he knew it better than I knew myself, touching confidently, and leaving me breathless.

"But you're here, looking for my cock. My big cock."

"Yes." I surrendered. I could feel my pussy just pulsing wetness. The bar stool must be soaking.

"Say it," he said, "say you want my big cock."

"I want your great big cock," I whispered, not hesitating in the slightest, blinking but not seeing, concentrating on the sensations. I leaned forward, hand on his thigh, gasping softly. "I want you to fuck me with that great big cock."

"Good girl. What about your boyfriend?" he teased. "Say fuck him."

"Come on," I protested. Sam was listening after all.

He moved his fingers, and I literally shivered all the way up my spine. "Wow! Your fingers! How do you do that!"

"Say 'my boyfriend can go fuck himself with his little dick, I want Leroy's cock."

"I'm not going-"

He did something with his fingertips above and below my clit.

"Fuck him. Fuck him," I whispered quickly. "He's useless. I want your big cock."

"What about his big cock? It's not that big after all, is it."

"No. It's not big. It's small. I don't want it. Fuck him, he can fuck off with his little dick. I need your big cock in me."

I was blushing madly and squirming on my seat. I didn't want to squirm, I was trying not to, I just couldn't help it. But even though I moved, his fingertips moved perfect time, always the perfect spot to leave me breathless.

How the fuck was he doing this to me? We were in a bar full of people, for all I knew, half the place was watching him finger me. I couldn't think, my mind was quivering, overwhelmed with sensation, with lust, with this maelstrom of confusion and desperate need.

I replied automatically, taking whatever he said, embroidering, feeding it back. I was vaguely aware of calling Sam down, and some part of me hoped that with the soft whispers and the bar noise he wouldn't hear it.

"That's why you came back here," he said, "you had a taste, and you wanted more."

"Yes," I whispered. "Fuck! What you're doing to me. How are you? Holy fuck. Shit. Your big cock. Ever since you...I couldn't stop thinking... you fucked me. You came in me. Filled me. Took control... I need... Oh.. I remember how your come felt in me... oozed... More. Yes, I loved you coming in me, I was mad but after I liked it.. Just.. Thinking about it..."

I knew I wasn't even making sense. It was like my brain was jello, just filled but disconnected and quivering, and somehow he'd inserted a pipeline straight into my sexual subconscious, bringing up incoherent images and words and urges. It felt like I was wetter, hornier, more desperate than I'd ever been in my life.

"Oh Jesus," I whispered. "I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm such a slut."

"Let's go," he said. The fingers were gone, withdrawn, the fabric of my panties, twisted and pulled, relaxed, leaving me shaking and blinking. He took my wrist, and pulled me off the stool.

To my shock, I didn't collapse into a quivering pile of boneless mush. I stood, although all my muscles felt like water. I felt weightless and boneless, almost floating, like a balloon. I was still incoherent, but thoughts started to swim together again.

Leroy led me to the back of the bar, and if anyone was watching, I was incapable of giving a shit. He could have bent me over the nearest table, and I'd have obeyed mindlessly and welcomed it. Faces flickered past, images, as we made our way to the hallway to the toilets. I have no idea how I did not stagger. I saw Sam, but we were past by the time I recognized him. I think he must have seen only hungry gasping need in my face.

Then we were in the men's room again, the familiarity of it, the dirty mirror, the sink, the urinals, the grimy walls and the smell seemed to anchor me, helping me to focus. Not that it made much difference. Leroy was pushing me up against the wall, the spaghetti straps down my shoulders, he was cupping my bare breasts. His mouth was on my neck, my collarbone. He kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, and I welcomed it.

"I've wanted another crack at you," he said between kissed. "You couldn't get enough of me, could you. You fucked that asshole, Derek, but you were looking for me, weren't you?"

Wait! What? Derek? He knew about Derek? Derek must have talked. People must have seen me go into the Men's room with him. Hell, they must have seen me go in now. And the first time, with Leroy. The story, the stories must be going around, must have... everyone probably knew. I shouldn't. Everyone probably watching. I shouldn't. Coming here was a mistake. All these fragments of thoughts came and went in an instant flash, and I didn't care about any of them.

One hand released my breast, reaching down, pulling up my dress to reach between my legs, nimbly pushing the fabric aside, and grabbing my bare pussy. A finger slid up inside me and all I could do was go boneless around it.

"You were looking for me."

"Fuck yes," I said quickly to get it out of the way. "I came back for you, but you weren't there. I came back again tonight. Fuck me."

"Take off the dress," he ordered, his body pressing into me. I felt his cock in my hand.

I blinked for a second, the order forcing me to arrange my thoughts. "Zipper," I said, pushing away from the wall. I reached behind me, turning way from him. "Here. Unzip me."

I felt his hand on my zipper, drawing it down. The dress loosened, the spaghetti straps fell away from my arms, and I felt fabric sliding down, as the dress fell away, and pooled around my feet, leaving me with nothing but my black stay-up stockings and red silk panties.

Leroy wrapped his arms around me from behind, cupping my breasts. I felt him licking the back of my neck and moaned, pushing back at him. Gloriously his hands slid down my body, one reaching behind to cup my ass cheek, the other slipping under the waistband of my panties. Two fingers unerringly sought out my clitoris, and took my breath away with a touch.

"How?" I gasped. "How do you do that?"

"I used to be a musician," he said, the comment seemed so random it startled me. What the hell did that mean.

"God, that ass! I'm going to fuck that ass."

Anal? I wanted, expected him to jam his cock up my aching pussy. The discord cut through the haze.

But there was no time to react. He took my wrist, turning me around, pinning me against the door of a bathroom stall. He lifted the other wrist, pinning them both above my head.

"Look at you," he said, his expression complete lust. It was like being bathed in dark light, I wanted to squirm, to writhe, to drench myself in it, in my nakedness and captivity. "So fucking gorgeous, and wet and tight. I'm going to fuck you so hard."

"Two," I whispered, smiling. For a moment he looked confused, and I was vaguely happy, to have at least some lucidity. "After you fuck me, I'll be gorgeous and wet..."

I paused for a beat.

"But I won't be tight any more."

He laughed and pressed up against me. Pushing me against the crudely painted plywood of the toilet stall door. His mouth found mine, and we kissed, devouring each other. He released my wrists to squeeze my breasts and nipples, and I wrapped my arms around him.

"Condom," I whispered. I was lucid enough to think of it. "You need to wear a condom."

"Why?" He licked my neck, and I wanted to melt. "You won't get pregnant. And anyway, you've got a boyfriend, even if you do."

"Yeah," I whispered, "but..."

"I'm clean," he insisted. "Are you?"

"Yes, but-"

His lips found mine, he kissed. His hand dropped, clutching my soaked panties.

"I already came in you already," he said. "Remember. If one of us had something, we've already given it, can't get it twice... So don't worry about it."

"Oh... Right," I mumbled, around his lips. He was right, or at least, it made sense. I wasn't going to get anything I hadn't already gotten from the last time, we still had to wait for the testing. So it didn't make any difference.

"But-" I felt there should still be a condom, I couldn't find an answer in my state of confused lust.

He pulled his lips from mine, ran his hand through my hair, and suddenly, I was looking into his eyes.

"Besides," he said, "this pussy... this pussy, is too tight and sweet to waste on a rubber."

He kissed me.

"I want to take you bare," he said. "I want to feel you, I want to feel all of you, skin to skin. I want to come in you, I want to fill you up with me, have me dripping down your legs."

The images, the words, the idea of him bare in me, of his ejaculation in to my unprotected womb, his seed inside me, it transported me, it made me delirious.

"Okay," I whispered. "Yes."

He licked my collarbone, his hands were roving, moving, touching me everywhere. I was moaning.

"You want that too, don't you?" he whispered. "You want it bare. You want to feel real flesh, feel me, the real me, not some fucking latex. Let fucking assholes wear condom. Let your boyfriend wear them. Not me. You want me, baby. You want to feel me, you want my come up inside you."

I was almost delirious, but his words, as intense and vivid as they were, were confusing. I'd said yes, but he was still trying to persuade me. You won, guy, you don't need to keep trying to talk me into it.

"Fuck me bare," I whispered to stop him. "Come in me. I want to feel it."

I wanted that cock in me, on me, his body, his hands, his mouth, his semen ejaculating around his penis as it filled my vagina.

He grinned crookedly. "Good girl."

"You know what?" He kissed me, reaching between my legs. I felt him gather the fabric.

"You're going to fuck me," I purred.

He yanked, I felt my panties tear, the waistband snapping as the fabric let go. I squealed. Suddenly, I was bare and exposed. So much for my underwear, another pair gone.

"Fucking right," he growled. "Let's get some privacy."

He reached above my head, pulling the stall door open and pushing me inside. I took one look, and stopped.

"Fuck!" I said, and not in a good way. I stepped forward, and flushed, hoping that whatever was in there would swirl away, and not overflow. "Fuck, that's disgusting."

"Don't worry about it," he said, pushing me forward.

"Not this one," I said, backing up. What the fuck was wrong with him? I was so horny I was literally melting, but the filthy stall was too much, it was distracting. "The other one. Please."

"Sure," he said. He reached down retrieving my dress from the wall near the stall. I had the presence of mind to grab my purse as I stepped into the stall, thankfully less disgusting, and placed it on the back of the toilet tank.

I felt his hand on my ass.

"Hey bitch," he grunted, "assume the position. I'm going to rail that tight little cunt."

This was how we'd finally done it the last time. We'd fumbled around, up against the wall, or even sitting on the sink. But what had eventually worked was bending over the toilet, folding my arms, bracing against the toilet, back arched, legs spread. Presenting for mounting, Sir!

Derek had fucked me like that, but he'd been shorter, and I'd had to lower my hips, bending my legs and turning knees outward, so he'd thrust up into me at a weird angle while my inner thighs slowly turned to fire.

But now, this third time, I assumed the position almost instinctively, bending, my breasts swaying above the toilet, legs parting. I felt one hand on my ass, the other cupping my now bare pussy. My dress slipped from his hand, falling beside the toilet. Two fingers slid inside, then three.

"Yes," I grunted loudly. "Shove those fingers in me. Finger me. Play with my cunt. I'm so fucking wet for your cock."

"You are," he said. "You're so fucking wet."

I felt so wanton. I was completely naked, except for my stockings and heels. The other times, we'd pulled skirts up and tops and pants down, made a mess of my clothes. As if, in case anyone walked in, we'd pull my clothes into shape to pretend modesty, and conceal myself from strangers. But now I was finally bare, nude, there'd be no pretense, no concealing from strangers. It felt like I'd crossed a threshold into deeper sexuality, or deeper submission. It was liberating.

It felt like a surrender to Leroy. Yes, that was it. This time was surrender. A surrender, giving myself up to him more fully this time, not just taking his cock, but giving up my clothes, giving him my nude body, giving up the condom, giving him my bare cunt, making my body a receptacle for his flesh and semen. On some level, I realized he wouldn't think like that, he wouldn't give a shit even if he knew.

But the metaphor, the symbolism of my surrender was so psychologically and sensually intense it shook me to my core. It made my body tremble with need, a craving to be taken and owned. The significance almost made me dizzy. I was glad he didn't register any of it, that it was just in my head. Or it would have been such a potent tool for him... or a weapon.

"Oh god," I said. "I am wet. I'm dripping. My pussy is so wet for your big cock. I need you to fuck me with that big cock."

I was talking right at my purse. On the other side of my phone, I knew Sam was in the bar, sitting at a table, listening to every word. I imagined him excited, his cock so rigid it was practically vibrating. I imagined him hungrily drinking every word down, swallowing it. His excitement, the idea of his excitement at my debasing myself into this wanton sexual creature in front of him. I'd be a creature of pure radiant sex as he listened, I'd be every porn star he'd ever jerked off to. That sent me stratospheric.

I felt something pressing between my lips. Opening me.

"Yes! Oh shit! Oh fuck, yes!" I cried out. "I can feel it. I can feel your cock! Fuck me!"

I wanted to be verbal for him, to do a moment by moment, play by play description. I wasn't just for him. Talking was exciting, it reinforced the intensity, the vividness. I liked to be mouthy in bed generally. For me, talking dirty was like watching porn while fucking. But doing it this way, doing it for Sam and me, having Leroy or Derek listen. Like I said, stratospheric.

The cock pulled back, vanished. "Oh!" I cried out. "Give it."

SMACK!!! My ass cheek exploded in stinging fire, a wave of heat spreading, followed instantly by pins and needles. The succession of sensations almost instantaneous, marching one after the other, leaving me breathless.

"OW!!!" I cried out, not comprehending for a second. My ass had been slapped hard. I panted, trying to catch my breath.

"Ohh!" Suddenly, I felt myself being entered. Leroy's hard cock sliding in. "Yes!"

And then it was gone, I gasped, feeling almost forlorn. An aching sudden need to be filled consumed me. I rocked my hips, pushing myself backwards. "Please!"

SMACK!!! "OW!!!" The slap, harder than the first, burst over my ass like a shower of pins and needles driving me forward, wedging.

"Fuck!" Again, Leroy's cock slid in.

"Who's in charge here?" Leroy demanded.

SMACK!!! "Ow!!! You are, you are. You're in charge."

At least this one wasn't as hard.

"That's right," his hand slid along my pussy, fingers unerringly finding my clitoris. His thumb slid inside me, working towards my G-spot. I groaned.

"Who's the pussy?" he said. "Who's the cunt?"

"Me, Sir," I whined. "I'm the pussy, I'm the cunt. I need to be fucked so bad."

What the fuck was he doing? Submission, dominance, were incredibly psychically powerful. The very idea of submission could leave me dizzy and gasping, eager to do things I'd never imagined. But sometimes it was such a delicate balance. There was a fine line between master and asshole and so easy to fall wrong.

"Oh yeah," he said, he stroked my G-spot until my knees were shaking, then he withdrew. His hands grasped my hips holding me in place. I felt the head of his cock brush my lips. He was teasing me, I understood now. For some reason, that excited me more. "How bad?"

"Real bad. I need your cock."

"Beg."

"Please, please fuck me. Ram that big hard cock up inside me. Fuck me. Fuck me like a cheap slut. Fuck my tight pussy. Come in me. Fuck the shit out of me."

"This cock?" He pushed the head inside. I tried to rock back on it.

"Yes! Your cock."

"What about your boyfriend's cock?"

"No! Your cock! Fuck me, please. I need it."

"Why not your boyfriend's cock?"

"It's not big enough. It's not as big as yours."

"Pretty small, right? I could tell because you're so tight. You're so tight right now. He can't do the job. That's why you need a big cock."

I hated how it inflamed me. Every word he spoke made me wetter. He was saying horrible things about Sam, and it was getting me off, making me want to say these things. The fucker, he'd picked up on my verbal thing, and was using it. He was using it against me, and I loved it.

"Fuck him," I said, I boiled with shame, both wanting to delve, and needing to move the dirty talk somewhere else, "and his little dick. I don't care about it. I need more. I need a real cock. A big cock. I need a man who knows how to fuck."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes! Please, fuck me with your big fucking cock. Pound me. Ram me. Fuck the shit out of me. I want you bare. I want you to come in me and fill me with your come."

"You made me wear a condom."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I made a mistake. Your cock is too big for a condom, it feels too good. I need it bare."

"You learned your lesson."

"Yes! You showed me. You filled me and I loved it. I couldn't stop thinking about it."

"Next time, I'm going to fuck you bare too," he said, "and you'll love it.

Next time? What was he thinking? But I was too caught up to think about it. "Yes, I'll love it," I agreed. "I want it bare."

And then, it happened. I felt his cock moving forward, sliding deeper and deeper, all the way in. His hips slapping against me, bottoming out. My jaw dropped, I moaned long and deep.

"Oh god yes!" I cried out.

"You like that?" He slapped my ass, but not so hard.

"Oh god, I love that big hard cock in me."

"Better than your boyfriend? Bigger?"

Fuck! What was wrong with him? Like, fucking insecurity much?

"So much better," I moaned, "so much bigger."

He was big enough, and it felt really good. He seemed the same size. Maybe it was how crazy wet I was, he slid right in. But maybe Sam was bigger. Whatever, he seemed to need to hear it, and I knew it would turn Sam on to listen to me take some super giant cock. So I played to it.

"Oh god," I moaned. "You're so fucking big. You fill me up, you fill me right up."

"Oh yeah?" I could hear the greedy hunger in his voice. He was thrusting furiously, his cock ramming me so hard my whole body was shoving back and forth. I had to brace myself with a forearm not to have my head smashed into the wall.

"Oh fuck," I panted. "You're so big. You're fucking me deeper than anyone has before. You're touching, fucking places in me no one has ever reached. Oh and you're so goddamned thick."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh fuck yes!" I grunted. "Every time you ram that monster in me, it feels like you're splitting me in two, and all I want is for you to ram it in again, harder."

"You want it harder!" He was pounding furiously, the sound of his hips slapping my ass was loud in my ears.

"Yes! Yes! Harder. Wreck my pussy with that goddamned big cock!"

The door opened.

We froze. Footsteps. I was panting softly, I couldn't help it. Leroy leaned forward carefully, putting a hand on my mouth, and bulled me backwards towards him, until I was almost upright. I could feel his knees bending, changing the elevation of his hips, the angle of his cock in me. His other hand wrapped around my belly, holding me in place, the palm descending, until his fingertips brushed my clit, sending a shiver through me.

I stared at the graffiti covered back wall, trapped in his viselike grip. We waited, The footsteps moved through the bathroom. It must have taken no time at all, but with my heart almost pounding through my chest, it felt like forever. Then a hissing sound at the urinal.

Suddenly, Leroy thrust up into me so hard and abrupt my eyes bulged. For an instant, if felt like my feet lifted up off the ground. I snorted involuntarily, and Leroy moved his hand to pinch my nostrils shut. Only his hand on my mouth kept the breath from being knocked out of me. The sensation left me dizzy. It was like being hit with a car, or being in an earthquake.

Leroy eased back, moving utterly silently, as I was held helpless. I could feel his cock drawing down. And then another brutal thrust, like a rocket going off under me and into me. Mouth and nostrils pinched shut.

As he withdrew, he eased his pinch on my nostrils, allowing me to desperately suck vital oxygen. But then, they pinched shut. Another violent thrust. I was boneless in his grip, almost dizzy, black spots at the edges of his vision. From this angle, he felt gigantic, like a traffic cone ramming suddenly into me. It was almost traumatic, each disorienting, like some explosive catastrophe, pushing me to the dizzying precipice of orgasm.

The pissing stopped. We froze. More footsteps, the taps on. He was washing his hands. Another brutal thrust. I could feel my eyes rolling back inside my head, the only distraction my body's desperate hunger for oxygen. Suddenly, I could inhale, and then just as quickly, it cut off, followed by another savage eruption up into me. I could feel my shoes lift off the floor, as for an instant, my entire body weight was impaled upon a cock that felt like a ram. I saw stars, my body shook. His grip tightened.

The water shut off. Footsteps. The door opened again, and closed. We waited another instant.

His hand dropped from my mouth. I heaved great sobbing breaths.

"Fuck!" I groaned. His grip eased, and released me, only holding my hips. I could barely hold myself up, my legs were shaking so badly. I bent forward, folding my arms and resting my elbows on the toilet tank. But even then, his cock remained nestled up inside me, it felt too good. "That was intense."

"Yeah," he panted. He sounded tired. I remembered how the inside of my thighs had screamed with Derek. Exotic positions were hard on him too I guessed. I was glad, he was human.

"Do you think he heard us?"

"I don't know. But if he looked at the stall, he'd have seen two pairs of feet. So, he would have known that either two people were fucking, or there was a unicorn drinking out of the toilet."

I laughed, genuinely. I was surprised, I didn't think he had it in him. In that moment, I kind of liked him.

Not that I was hating on him for fucking the living shit out of me. That was bonus.

"That was tough," he said. "You probably didn't feel much, but fuck it was hard doing it like that."

"I felt it," I admitted.

"I wasn't too rough?"

"No, it was good."

"This is why I wanted the other stall," he said. "It's against the wall, a lot harder to see under. This one, we might as well have not bothered shutting the door."

Now he tells me. That made a lot of sense. Probably, it also explained why the other stall was so disgusting.

His cock was see sawing back and forth inside me, after the traumatic upward thrusts, it was almost relaxing. I moaned.

"Oh that feels good," I gasped. "That's good. Harder."

He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back, making me arch my spine. The angle of his penetration shifted, his cock sliding up against my gee spot. I gasped quickly, the sensations re-ordering my breathing into syncopated grunts. Tremors rippled through my muscles.

"You giving orders again?"

"No, Sir," I forced out. "No, Sir. Begging, that's all. That big cock splitting me, going up so deep, it feels so good, it's got me begging. Pleading. I need it, it's so good. I'm imploring. Supplicating. Please, Sir, harder."

Out of nowhere, a line from Oliver Twist flashed through my head, and I almost giggled. "Please, Sir! Can I have some more!"

He let go my hair, but it felt so good, I kept my back arched, letting him ride up against my g-spot over and over. It was hard to make words. I just swore and moaned. My knees were shaking so much, he had to help hold me up.

My muscles were failing me. His thrusts pushed me forward and down, until I was kneeling on the edges of the toilet seat. He bent forward, I could feel him almost pressed against my back. As he thrust, he reached around to fondle my breasts, squeezing them, pinching my nipples until I was mewing with touch. One hand kept my breasts, fondling each in turn. The other reached down between my legs. For a moment, I felt his touch at my nether lips, squeezing them, as his cock thrust smoothly up into me. Then, once again, three fingers drew towards my clit, tapping, stroking, teasing.

The sensations of his fingers on my clitoris, the steady thrusting of his hard cock, his hand on my breasts, the weight of his body behind me, it was all overwhelming and indescribable. I felt my breath race, my heart speed up. This electrical sensation began to erratically between my clit and my pussy. I squirmed, but the sensation kept building and building with each jump, each thrust, each touch.

My jaw dropped. I stopped breathing for a second as if I'd forgotten how, then sucked air suddenly. My eyes went wide.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! It's, it's, it's happening. Oh god, I'm..."

The orgasm hit like a tidal wave. I couldn't stop it, couldn't cope. It just picked me up and flung me, rolling over and over as I struggled to breathe. I moaned loudly, not caring if anyone came in. I couldn't think. My knee slipped off the toilet seat, I lost control of my body. I was only vaguely aware I was squirting uncontrollably over and over, my stomach muscles seizing so tight they hurt.

When I could think again, I realized Leroy's cock was still in me. As I caught my breath, he started moving it back and forth, returning to fucking.

"My turn now," he said.

"Yeah sure. Whatever," I said vaguely. I sucked air. I was trying to get both my eyes to focus. But it sounded good. Whatever he wanted. Certainly. It sounded like a good idea. I approved. I wasn't focused enough to know what he was talking about. But whatever it was, sure, I approved.

He reached around my waist, pulling me up like a like a sack of laundry. I was fine with that. I wasn't sure I still had bones. Probably. He could do anything with me, as long as no actual volition was required on my part, I was good with that. He started thrusting his hips, making me flop back and forth as he pounded into me with measured strokes.

"Oh yes," I said. It felt good being fucked like a rag doll.

"Oh yes," he grunted.

It was nice that we agreed on something. I wasn't sure what. But yes, happy.

"Oh fuck me," I moaned, "your cock feels so good."

"I'm going to fucking come in you," he growled.

"Yes," I grunted. That notion cut through the random flotsam that passed for my mind. I understood and totally approved. "Good. Come in me. Fill me."

His pace increased steadily, I felt his cock harden inside me, and swell. His grip tightened. I felt my own excitement building relentlessly as he fucked harder and harder. His thrusts faster and faster. His pounding increasingly brutal

"You feel it," he growled in my ear.

"I feel it." I whined.

"You feel me going deep. I'm so fucking close."

"You are. You are. I can feel you hard and deep."

"You're going to take it."

"I'm going to take it!"

"You're going to take it all."

"I want it."

The excitement was building in me. I found myself frantically fucking back at him with each thrust, desperate to have him deeper, take more of him.

Suddenly, his grip tightened like iron bands, forcing the air out of me, jamming me on his hips. I could feel his cock suddenly hot inside me, suddenly swelling.

"Take it! Take it! TAKE IT!!!"

But I could already feel him ejaculating up inside me, the hot squirts of semen flooding my walls with every thrust. My orgasm hit, I could feel my pussy clenching tight, almost pushing him out of me. But his drive was relentless. No matter how much my cunt squeezed, he pushed forcing his way deep, sending lightning bolts of sensation through me. My body surrendered suddenly, going limp. My pussy went slack, but it wasn't enough for him. He thrust wildly up inside me again and again, spurting over and over.

Finally, he was finished. We were collapsed, sprawled, me bent over the toilet, one breast hanging into the bowl, cold water brushing the tip of my nipple. His weight on my back. We were both breathing hard. I could feel his cock in me, throbbing slowly, evicting his last drops of semen into my sodden cunt, deflating with each pulse.

When it felt out, I felt this sense of loss and mourning.

Eventually, he got up off me, pulling up his pants, leaning against the wall if the toilet stall. A moment later, aching, I climbed up, and sat sprawled on the toilet.

"Third time's the charm," I mumbled to myself.

"What?"

"Nothing."

He stepped forward, and slapped his limp dick against my face.

"Put it in your mouth," he said. "Clean me up."

There was no will left in me. What is it with men shoving their limp dicks in my face when I was too wrung out to say no? It was taking advantage is what it was - like cheating.

I just opened my mouth, taking it in, and rolling my tongue against it, sucking. There was no sign of an erection in there. It didn't taste bad. Derek's had tasted of latex and condom funk, that kind of sweaty slime cocks get when men fuck with condoms on - I so hated that. But this wasn't bad, it was just skin texture, and male sweat, and my own juices.

I swallowed all the way and stuck my face in his pubic hair and inhaled and enjoyed the smell of his maleness. When he ordered me to lick his balls, I licked them.

When he was satisfied, he zipped up. I finally had the focus to try to pull myself together. I reached into my purse for a compact mirror and checked myself. Oh yeah, this girl has been fucked hard.

I grabbed a brush, made a few desultory efforts with my hair and then gave up. Whatever. This minimal effort would have to do.

I was naked, except for my stockings, and one of them was starting to roll down. I pulled it up. The shift of my leg made the semen he'd deposited in me move. I could feel it oozing inside me, and put my hand between my legs, feeling it seep across my fingers.

"Jesus," I told him. "You really did fill me up."

"I told you I would. Don't say you didn't love it. I could feel your pussy sucking ever drop."

What did that even mean, I wondered. I was afraid to ask. Sometimes it felt like men had no idea how women's bodies worked.

"What were you doing?" I asked. "Saving it up for Christmas?"

I looked down at his feet.

"You're standing on my dress."

"Oh," he said. "Sorry."

He bent down to grab it, and handed it to me. I pulled it on. My dress was filthy, with a footprint and ground in toilet and floor grunge. There was a tear in the side, along the seam, and another lower down in the material, at the top of the slit in the skirt, a small rip along the hem. The zipper didn't quite go up all the way. Worst of all, one side was wet, I wasn't sure with what, and I didn't think I wanted to know.

I checked myself as best I could in the mirror. Oh fuck, I thought. From classy to trashy. It was a shame, I loved this dress. Still, it had been an epic fuck.

"You want to go get a drink," Leroy asked. "Give me an hour or two, and I'll have enough gas in the tank for another run."

What the fuck? I'd never heard that idiom, it made me wonder where he was from. I gazed at him. The idea of hanging around a dive bar, slowly getting wasted until he got his second erection seemed... unspeakable.

Holy fuck, but it was unappealing.

What had I been even thinking in the first place, with this guy? His semen was running down my leg. Absently, I wiped it with the hem of my dress. Yeah, that would leave a stain, but so what.

Where the hell were my panties?

Oh right.

"I'm good," I said. "Honestly. You wore me out." I pulled out my phone. "I think I'll just call an Uber and go home and crash."

I hoped Sam figured it out. I wanted him to get the car and pick me up outside.

"Can't change your mind?"

"Cinderella, remember. I turn into a pumpkin at midnight," I reminded him.

"Well," he said, "you got ridden hard, plowed and seeded. I guess its time to put you to bed wet."

Wait, did he mean to come home with me? Fuck that. No, second thought, he knew I had a boyfriend. Okay.

We walked out of the bathroom, into the bar. Maybe it was my imagination, but it felt like the ripple of bar babble quieted briefly for us, and that at least a few eyes checked out my new, just fucked really hard, look.

There was no sign of Sam. Good. Probably. I hoped that meant he'd gone to get the car. We sat at an empty table, maybe the one Sam had vacated. I checked my phone. There was a text from Sam, he was getting the car. I pretended to call an uber.

My stomach hurt a little bit, but I felt surprisingly good. Energetic even. The temporary exhaustion of shattering orgasms had dissipated. I felt invigorated, almost frisky.

"You know," I said. "I almost feel like I could go back for another round. I'm tempted. But..."

He grinned that sleazy knowing grin, his gaze sliding across my body like I'd oiled up for him. My nipples hardened. There was a wet spot on the seat, probably from his come leaking out of me. He might be a loser, but he had a sexy thing going on.

"You know," Leroy said, "I'm down for at least an hour. But I could probably arrange a few trips to the men's room for you."

"Really?" I asked.

The idea sent butterflies racing through my stomach. The notion was disgusting. I glanced around the bar, to see who, if anyone, was watching us. What the men were. I imagined walking into the men's room over and over again, each time with a different man, taking off my dress and being nude, or being fucked in it, being looked at, touched, bent over the toilet, or sitting on the sink, or up against the wall or the urinals, taken from behind, kneeling. I could feel my soaked pussy clenching, my heart rate picking up. My mouth was a little dry.

"Who?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

Again, that sleazy grin. He shrugged elaborately and leaned forward, his eye seemed to fix on someone over my shoulder.

"No!" I said suddenly. I wanted to turn and see who he was looking at, who he might pick to fuck me. At the same time, I didn't want to see. I wanted and didn't want. Absolutely nothing good would come of me turning and looking. "I have an uber coming."

"You can cancel it," he said easily.

"Yeah, I could," I said. "But no. I don't think I will."

He shrugged.

"Just a thought."

I was shocked that I had thought of it, even if only for a moment. I decided not to mention this thought to Sam.

My text message beeped.

Sam.

"My Uber is here," I pulled myself to my feet. Leroy rose up with me.

"I want to fuck you again," Leroy said, as we walked to the front of the bar.

"At the bar."

"You've got a thing, let's do it again. Come by, next Wednesday at eight."

"I don't know," I said.

"Next Wednesday at eight," he repeated. "I'll do you in the Men's room again."

"All right."

Why the fuck did I say that? Now I was making dates with this guy?

"Good," he said. "Don't be late."

"I won't."

Fuck! What was wrong with me.

We stepped out into the street. Sam had pulled up in our car. Leroy glanced dismissively at him. Then he took me in his arms and kissed me. I hadn't expected that, and it took my by surprise. As his lips pressed against mine, his tongue snaked into my mouth, and his hand slid down the strap of my breast, to slip under the cup and take my bare exposed nipple in hand, pinching hard.

I gasped, pulling my face away, breaking the kiss. But he just took the opportunity to bring his hand down, lifting my skirt and cupping my pussy in his palm, right out on the street. Breathless, suddenly half naked, I didn't know how to react as he kissed my open mouth, our tongues sliding against each other.

"Remember," he whispered.

"I will," I replied, though at the moment, I was so disoriented, I had no idea what he was talking about.

All I knew was my bare breast was out in the middle of the sidewalk, my pussy had been exposed, and I'd been wantonly frenched, all right in front of the love of my life, Sam, as he waited in the car. Leroy's fingers were slick from my pussy, probably from his own come as well as my juices. He wiped them off on my dress, what a gentleman, and waved.

I got in the car, and Sam and I pulled away.

"Sounds like you got your bell rung," he said.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Rung hard. Let's get home. I want to take a shower, burn this dress and fuck you blind."

"Any particular order?"

I leaned into him, reaching between his legs. Hard as a steel bar.

"We'll see what comes up first."