SLIPPING INTO DEPRAVITY - Ch. 39, Back to THAT bar

A NIGHT OUT WITH THE GIRLS, PART TWO OF FIVE

KAYLEY POV

We stood in the cruddy back parking lot behind the bar, and watched Rahul the cab driver, pull out and away. He had my panties. He also had an insanely huge fare on my credit card. You'd think doing a live sex show in the back of the cab would have gotten me a discount.

Leroy wrapped an arm around me, and kissed me on the cheek.

“Come on,” he said cheerfully, “you have to admit, this was a lot more exciting than just hanging with the girls.”

“I guess,” I admitted, with a little hint of a smile. There was an infectious bad boy quality to him. A friendly, happy mischief. It was hard to get mad at him, or stay mad, or to be as mad as you should be.

“When was the last time you did live sex shows in the back of a moving cab. Or came so hard?”

“You’re just evil,” I said, lightly, remembering the excitement. Leroy was like a roller coaster, you never quite knew what was around the corner, but it was always a scream.

“I think we’ve got a little exhibitionist in there.”

“Maybe,” I said.

Oh god damn it, he was so fucking charming in his sleazy way. It was hard to hold onto resentment.

“Don’t tell me you’re not planning to do it again sometime with Sam,” he said. “Now that I’ve opened you up to it.”

And he was damn near psychic!

“All right,” I said. “Look, let’s just have our drink.”

The angora clung to the shape of my breasts like a fuzzy second skin, with my nipples poking all the way out to Cleveland. That and a short skirt meant I was probably going to attract attention when we walked in.

I hoped. I supposed if we were walking into a strip club filled with pneumatic breasts and lingerie, I wouldn’t get a second look, which would suck.

“You know,” I said as Leroy walked me in through the back entrance to the bar, “I think you’re right, I might be a little bit of an exhibitionist.”

“That’s my girl!” He patted my rump.

As we walked in near the pool tables, players paused in their game. I couldn’t help smirking a little. Leroy nodded here and there, in a familiar way, guiding me towards the tables. Definitely, it was mostly men, and definitely I was getting attention. But my smirk was fading. Coming in through the back entrance had thrown me, but this place...

“Fuck!” I stopped short. “This is the bar.”

The bar where I’d fucked Leroy and Derek, and then Leroy and Sam. Fuck.

“Surprised?” he asked.

He pushed me a little and I started moving again. He used an arm around my waist to guide me to an empty table. I was blushing. The fact that men were looking at me was taking on a whole new connotation. What the fuck? Was this a game? Was he fucking with me?

“You had so much fun here, I figured you’d enjoy coming here,” he told me. “Good times.”

Was he serious? Maybe he was. What the fuck was going on? I found I was unstrung, I wasn’t sure what to think, or how to think. Was this innocent? No, not at all, not with our history here! But, there were degrees of innocence. Did he actually mean well - Kayley had fun, let’s bring her here? Or was he counting on Men’s room action? Or was there more? What the fuck?

“Are you okay?” he asked me, sitting down, looking concerned. “I thought you’d get a kick out of this place. It’s your playground.”

Was he serious? I searched his face, and his expression seemed honest. He really thought I’d enjoy being brought back here, because...playground? Wow, misfire. But, if it was an honest error, it was hard to be upset with him. If it was honest. He didn’t seem his usual sleazy self.

“Uhm, yeah,” I said, looking around. I got the feeling that attention was being paid to me, but in a sort of casual way now. Not being too overt about looking at me. My treasonous nipples became even harder, my angora sweater looked like I was wearing dixie ups on my breasts.

“I just didn’t expect...I’m a bit surprised.”

“I did give the cab driver the address right in front of you,” he said. He still looked innocent and concerned.

Oh right, he did. But, it had been a street address only, it had come and gone. Then again, he hadn’t said the name of the place.

“We haven’t been out a lot together,” he said, “Something I’d like to change. I wasn’t sure where to bring you. I didn’t want a strip club, or something too noisy...I thought about karaoke...Do you like karaoke? Anyway, this just seemed like the obvious choice.”

“Yeah,” I said, “Okay.”

Fuck though, he was always throwing me for a loop, it felt like I could never predict his next move. Probably why he was so good at getting my panties off. It was exciting, disturbing, frustrating, but sexy.

Was I going to end up in the men’s room with him again? My pulse started to speed up.

Did I want to? My mouth was dry.

A thought flitted through my mind that made me squeeze my thighs together, feeling the sudden wetness between my legs. Did it really matter what I wanted? He’d just make me want whatever he did. The thought that it didn’t was exciting and scary.

“You know,” he said, smiling. “You’re kind of famous around here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on,” he drawled. “This is not a big bar, it’s kind of a hole in the wall, relatively. You’re fucking smoking hot. If all you did was walk in, order a drink, and walk out, you’d have rated attention. You walked into the men’s room four times with two different men. That gets serious attention.”

“Yeah...,” I said, starting to blush. “I see that now.”

Something occurred to me.

“Did you…Was there...Talk?”

“Oh fuck yes!” Leroy said. “Everyone wanted to hear. If we didn’t talk, they would have made up stories anyway. Some people did. Derek and I aren’t the only ones to brag about tapping you.”

“But it was just...”

“Just two. The rest were bullshit,” he said. “Yeah. Of course. And I stopped talking when it got serious, after the second time. But fuck, the hot redhead who appears out of nowhere and drags some lucky bastard into the men’s room...you’re the stuff of legend. It’s not surprising that a few people made up their own stories. Everyone likes to brag.”

I was blushing deeply now. Jesus Christ, I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have ever come here again. Hell, I shouldn’t have come here after the first time. The whole point was anonymity, and now it was coming clear to me that I’d had a fucking audience each time after that. They hadn’t been in the men’s room with me, but they’d watched me come in, watched me pick up and then...”

“Fuck!” I said. I didn’t know how to feel. Definitely embarrassed, and a little shocked. A little angry that Leroy had blabbed. But, also a little hot. “Holy fuck!”

“Hey,” Leroy said. “Hey, there. Come here.”

He reached over, pulling me from my chair towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“Come here,” he repeated, “Come on and sit with me. Come up on my lap.”

“Are you crazy?” I demanded. “What are you doing? I’m not going to sit on your lap. I’m not five.”

But he was dragging me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me.

“I’m not giving you a lap dance,” I swore.

“Not asking. What’s wrong, Princess? Talk to me,” he stroked my hair.

“Cut it out,” I snapped.

“Come on,” he said, “It’s okay. What’s bugging you?”

“You mean,” I snapped, “Apart from ambushing me when I’m with my friends, dragging me off, making me do a sex show for a fucking cab driver.”

“You seemed pretty into it all when it was happening,” he said.

“Well, maybe I’m not okay with it now. And then taking me to a bar where everyone thinks...no... everyone knows I’m a total whore.”

“Wait,” he said. “That’s what’s bugging you?”

“Well... yeah!”

His hand crept down to my skirt.

“Don’t do that,” I warned him.

“I thought you’d get off on it,” he said.

If I’d been home, safe and sound, and far away, it would have been hot to think about. Being a sex goddess, whore of Babylon, ultra-slut, one of those urban legends of playboy fantasy. But, actually being here? It was...All over the place.

“Well...” I said. “I don’t.”

“But you had fun right?” he asked. “Before. You must have realized, the first time walking in here, everyone was checking you out, even before you did anything. Every time you walked in, you were smoking hot. You didn’t think anyone was checking you out? You didn’t like being checked out?”

“Well yeah,” I said. “But that’s different.”

“And when you were flirting with me and Derek...fun?”

“Well yeah.”

“Going into the men’s room each time...I know you enjoyed that.”

I didn’t bother to reply, on the grounds it would sound slutty.

“Why wouldn’t you think men would have noticed you taking guys in the back to fuck?” he asked. “And why would you even care? I’d have thought it would be hot for you.”

“You’re using logic on me, and I don’t like it,” I said. I folded my arms over my sweater. This just made my breasts push up above my folded arms, and made my nipples dramatically more prominent, like I was showing off. Probably shouldn’t have done that. I refolded my arms in front of my nipples. “This is about feelings.”

“Kayley,” he said patiently. “This is a hole in the wall bar in the middle of nowhere, a million miles from any connection to the rest of your life. You got fucked here because you knew it would never come back to your actual life. Am I wrong?”

Oh fuck, I thought. I wished he would just shut up.

“No,” I admitted in a quiet voice. “That’s kind of it. I guess. Maybe, sort of.”

“So what do you care?” he asked. “Hell, it should be a turn on, just knowing that when you walk through the door, every cock pops up. Every man here is praying that they’ll be the next stranger you pick. Really, that’s got to be a thrill.”

I smiled a little, despite myself.

He pointed.

“Look at those guys at the pool table,” he said. I glanced over that way. A group of young men in jeans and flannels. “They’ve been sneaking peeks at your sweater since you got here.”

“I bet if you went over and talked to them,” he said, “Half of them would come in their pants.”

He mimed the sounds of young men’s orgasms, “Uh Uh Huh Uh Huh Huh…Thanks Ma’am.”

I laughed a little, and squeezed it back down.

“I hate you,” I told him. “I hate that you made me laugh. And also that you’ve made me feel not so weird. And that I’m sitting on your knees like I’m five and you’re Santa Claus. And that you keep trying to put your hand up my skirt and feel my pussy.” I slapped his hand lightly, and it withdrew to just above my knee. “Stop that. I’m not in the mood!”

“Are you sure you’re not in the mood?” he said. “You were running pretty hot in the cab.”

His hand slipped under my skirt again. I slapped it. And maybe undermined that by parting my legs wider, just to sit more easily on his lap.

“That was then,” I said. “I’m completely not in the mood.”

His hand crept up my thigh.

“Even with all those horny guys watching to see what we do next?”

I blushed, and shifted position, which opened my thighs a little more.

“Especially!”

“Hey Leroy,” someone said, “Mind if I join you guys?”

I turned to look, and looked up, and then looked up some more, and then looked way up. He was huge, like six foot four or five, not exactly fat, but with that kind of portly, going to seed, look that some middle aged men have. You can see the bone structure, and the muscle, but you can also see the muscle going a little soft, and fat developing.

“Hey Jake,” Leroy said. “I’ve been looking for you!”

“Yeah,” he replied. “We keep missing each other.”

“Well, my man,” he said. “Pull up a chair.”

The big man sat down with us. He had light brown hair and watery pale eyes, bluish but not a full blue. He didn’t just sit in the chair. He occupied it, like he was invading a small foreign country. Even sitting down, he loomed.

And geez, there I was, sitting on Leroy’s lap. I got off and took the chair on the other side of Leroy.

“Kayley,” Leroy said, “This is a friend of mine: Jacob. Call him Jake.”

Jake looked me up and down, not in an ‘I want to fuck you sort of way,’ but in a patient measuring way, a very neutral vibe for checking me out. I had the weirdest sense of deja vu.

“I’ve seen her around the bar,” he said. “Four or five times. She always dresses nice. Likes to flirt.”

I blushed deeply. My mind was racing. I’d been here exactly four times, each time disappearing into the men’s room to get fucked by a stranger and leaving afterwards. If he’d noticed me in the bar, then he probably had a good idea what I’d done there. Hell, Leroy had probably filled him in on the details. I had always just assumed I was pretty anonymous here. But apparently, everyone recognized me as the big ‘Men’s Room Slut.’

I found myself flushing hot in my clothes, and not in a good way. Glancing around casually, I checked just in case we were being watched. Not that I could see. But, that didn’t make it better. I could feel eyes boring in the back of my neck. It was distracting.

“Isn’t that right, Kayley,” Leroy asked.

What? “Oh, uh sure.” I wasn’t clear on what they’d been talking about. Some inconsequential stupid male thing, politics or sports, something competitive. Whatever. I hadn’t heard my name come up, or anything that might perk me up, so I didn’t figure I needed to pay too much attention.

“So anyway,” Leroy asked Jake. “I haven’t been around much. Anything happening?”

“Not much,” Jake said. “Not much excitement.”

“It’s funny,” Leroy said. “This is Kayley’s favourite bar. She was saying she can’t get enough of this place. Insisted on coming. She says she likes the...excitement.”

He put his hand on my knee. Jake’s gaze followed the motion, it traveled from my knee, up my skirt, finally to my breasts and didn’t go further. Casually, he looked back at Leroy.

What the fuck? I smiled and nodded. But... I was embarrassed.

“I suppose...” I said. “I wouldn’t say it’s my favourite bar. But it’s nice.”

Jake turned his pale watery eyes on me.

“What do you like about it?”

“Uhm...” I wasn’t sure what to say. “The ambiance. The people. Just the feel of it...”

“The Men’s Room,” Leroy laughed.

Oh my god, I could have died on the spot. I could have just expired and sunk right through the floor. Jake merely nodded and glanced at me. Leroy caught my expression, and patted my knee, his hand moving up my thigh. My legs snapped shut.

“Oh come on, Kayley,” he said. “It’s just a joke. Relax. We’re all friends here. Right?”

He smiled at me, all friendly and guileless.

“Relax,” he said. “No one here knows you from anywhere else. That’s why you came here. It’s like that saying - What happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas. Nothing that happens here touches anything else in your life.”

“I suppose,” he was right. I still was a little thrown that he was saying it in front of Jake.

“No judgment here. A lot of guys watched you go into the men’s room. The only thing they thought was, they wished they were the lucky bastards.”

Oh geez. I couldn’t stop blushing. I mean, I supposed it was all true. But, I felt really put on the spot with Jake here.

“You too,” I asked Jake.

He nodded.

“You were easy on the eyes,” he said. “If you want to have a little fun, that’s your business. No one was judging.”

Did they talk about me? Did Leroy tell them what happened? Did Derek? Or did they just speculate? What did they say? How much did they know? These questions were burning inside, eating me up. I wanted to interrogate Jake, not entirely trusting Leroy. But I was too embarrassed to ask.

And to add to my discomfort, Leroy had managed to ease my thighs apart and had his hand all the way up to my skirt, something I noticed when Jake glanced down. At least he hadn’t gotten under it. Trying to be casual, I lifted Leroy’s hand from inside my thigh, put my knees together and straightened my skirt.

“Jake’s an admirer,” Leroy told me. “He’s a big fan. He’s admired you from afar. We’ve discussed you.”

“Yeah,” Jake said truculently. He seemed a little embarrassed himself.

“Oh,” I said. “That’s nice.”

Ease the fuck up, Leroy, I thought.

“I actually promised I’d introduce you, the next time you came by. Being a big fan and all, he really wanted to meet you, but he’s a little shy.”

He actually reached over and grabbed Jake’s hand, placing it on my other thigh, just above the knee and below the skirt. I stiffened and Jake swiftly withdrew his hand.

Jesus Fuck! What was wrong with him?

“Sorry,” Jake said.

I was blushing four kinds of hot.

“It’s okay,” I told him. I hissed at Leroy. “Cut it out. Just cut it the fuck out.”

Leroy held up his hands.

“It’s okay, relax. I’ll go get us drinks, okay? You two get to know each other.”

He went up to the bar. Jesus. It was like he was intent on derailing my whole night. I could understand him wanting to drag me off somewhere and fuck me. I was kind of into that. Or maybe just bar hopping and hanging out. But, what the fuck was he doing having us sit with Gigantor? What the fuck was that about?

Yeah, I knew. I was supposed to fuck Jake, I supposed. It was pretty fucking obvious what Leroy was doing.

Well, screw that.

“I’m sorry,” I told Jake, “Leroy’s being a jerk. I’m sorry you got dragged in.”

“It’s okay,” Jake said. “I know how he is.”

That made me feel a little better.

“Are you guys friends?”

He shrugged.

“He’s right about one thing though,” he said, “I am shy...”

He paused.

“And I did want to meet you. I did say so, and he promised to introduce us.”

Technically, that was two things. But his admission of shyness disarmed me a little, it made him seem more harmless, more approachable. I sort of smiled.

“Why?” I asked. “There’s nothing special about me.”

Apart from the fact that he’d watched me come in looking like a slut and drag a couple of different men into the bathroom to fuck. Yeah, buster, just say any of that the wrong way and I was so out of here.

He shrugged.

“You seemed like such a free spirit,” he said. “Just doing what you want. Everyone is so inhibited, we’re all tied down in life. Obligations. Consequences. It’s nice to just see someone who flies free.”

That surprised me a little, and being unexpected, I warmed to him.

“I don’t know if I’m a free spirit,” I said. “I’ve got the same ties everyone else has. A job, family and bills. I think I’d like to be. I try. But it’s hard to be bold.”

“Yeah,” he said, “It is. I suppose. But, when I’d see you in the bar, you always seemed fearless.”

I laughed.

“Foolish, maybe,” I said. “Maybe you’re mistaking bad judgment for flying free?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think you should regret anything. Being able to do it, fly free, that’s got to be amazing.”

“You know,” I said, “It’s been driving me crazy. Have we met before? You give me this really weird feeling of deja vu, like I’m certain I know you from somewhere, but I can’t remember.”

“Back again,” Leroy announced, sitting down. He passed me a glass of red. One thing about this place, they only had the one red wine, but it was actually a pretty decent cabernet. I picked up the glass.

“Hey,” I said to Leroy, “You didn’t roofie this, did you?”

He held up his hands.

“Since when have I ever had to roofie you?”

I laughed involuntarily. What a dick thing to say! He was practically calling me a slut that’s addicted to his cock, with very poor powers of resistance. It was a jerk thing, but also kind of a funny jerk thing.

“If he had,” Jake said. “I’d have slapped the shit out of him. There are some things you don’t do.”

I took a deep swallow. Fuck it tasted good. No aftertaste of weird chemical adulterations. I supposed I’d know if I woke up the next morning on a pool table or park bench with a river of semen running out of me. Which might be a hot little fantasy when I’m alone in the dark with a vibrator, but even the hint of real life is totally squick.

“And points awarded to Jake,” I announced, “For being a gentleman. No points to Leroy.”

I took Jake’s hand and placed it on my bare thigh, where Leroy had put it. He just let it lie there. I smirked at Leroy. How do you like it?

“I dunno,” I told Leroy. “Keep it up, you might not be getting any tonight.”

I smiled at Jake. “After all, I have an admirer.”

Leroy shrugged, and drank his beer.

“I guess I better be good then,” he said. “Or extra bad.”

I smirked.

“Oh shit,” Leroy said. “Jake, I’m sorry, I forgot to get yours.”

“No problem,” Jake replied. His hand came off my knee. “I’ll just go up.”

The big man lifted up with the ponderous weight of an aircraft carrier making a turn.

“Come back soon,” I said smiling.

He put his hand on my shoulder.

“I couldn’t stay away from you.”

I touched the hand just before it slid off my shoulder. Once he was out of earshot, I turned to Leroy and said, “What the fuck?”

“I thought you’d be up for a little fun,” he smiled. “After all, this is the bar where you like to have fun. Think of it as another adventure. This isn’t anything you haven’t already done and enjoyed.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

I was stuck for a second. Because I chose? I’d just gone with guys that hit on me. Because he was choosing? Sam had basically been about giving me permission, he wasn’t pushing me to do it, and he wasn’t choosing the men, or making the final decision.

“Sam’s not here,” I said. I already knew his response.

“But I am,” he grinned. “You trust me don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You can open your phone for me,” he said, “Like with Sam. I could listen, just to keep you safe. I promise not to get off on it, I’m not a cuck.”

“No thanks,” I said. And stop acting like a jerk, I mentally ordered.

“We can phone up Sam,” he said. “He can listen in. Will that make it hot for you?”

“No!!!” Jesus Christ, No! I thought. Leroy chuckled, enjoying himself. What an ass.

“I bet Sam would love it,” he sniggered. “What do you think? Would it make him hard? Think of it as a warm up for the next session.”

“Leave Sam out of it!” I snapped.

He shrugged.

“Anyway, you owe me,” he said.

For not throwing my bra out the window, I was supposed to repay him by fucking a stranger? What the living fuck, dude?

“Come on,” he said, “Stop being a bitch. When we were on our way here, you knew you were going to get fucked. You were up for it. You let me take your panties, you showed your pussy to the driver. You’re fucking wet right now. The only thing that’s different is who...”

I squirmed in my seat. The fucker was right. I was horny.

“Don’t worry,” he promised. “I’ll take care of that pussy after.”

Oh, you evil fucker, I thought to myself. You bastard. You sneak. You wretched excuse for a human being.

“Promise?” I asked.

Jake was on his way back with his beer.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

He should swear on his dick. He had no heart, and I’d kill him.

“Okay,” I said, feeling my pussy clench and a smooth wet rush between my legs as I surrendered. My stomach was completely full of butterflies, and I could feel myself blushing.

Fuck, I thought, I’m such a slut. How do I get myself into these things?

Jake sat down casually, putting his beer on the table. His hand reached over, possessively wrapping around the inside of my thigh. It gave me shivers.

This was sort of a variation of the things I’d done with Sam backing me up, I thought. It’s just musical chairs. Leroy’s doing Sam’s role. And we’ve got a new candidate. Was it really that different? And if it wasn’t that different, then did that mean it wasn’t so bad?

Doable?

Jesus, Kayley! Get a grip. This is not the same thing. You are not going to let Leroy pimp you out for an adventure. What the fuck was I thinking?

But, before I went all the way, we’d flirt just a little more. I was flirting now with Jake, partially to annoy Leroy. Flirting was safe. And Jake seemed nice, he had that big lumbering quality that just screamed safe and harmless. I mean, there were guys here I wouldn’t flirt with, even with a can of bear spray at the ready. But Jake?

What the hell. Where are the boundaries here?

“Hey there,” he said. “Did I miss anything?”

“We were just talking about you,” Leroy said.

“Good I hope,” Jake said.

“All good,” I offered.

“You and Kayley have a lot in common,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Kayley likes her men hung,” he said.

Oh fuck, I found myself blushing, could this get any worse? That was way over the line.

“And you like girls who don’t wear panties,” Leroy continued.

Yes, it had gotten worse.

“You guys!” I said. “You’re being gross! Cut it out!”

Leroy slid his hand along my other thigh, slipping to the inner thigh and pulling gently. I wanted to slap him. But my pussy was wet, I was jangly, and yeah, at some point we were going to fuck. So, it was sort of okay he was publicly staking his claim. Kind of hot.

“Oh don’t worry, Kayley,” he said. “We’re just having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “I know what your idea of fun is. Torturing me!”

I looked down, I had two hands on my inner thighs just below my skirt, gently prying my legs apart. I looked down pointedly.

“So, is one of you going to make a wish?” I asked.

“I know what I’m wishing for,” Jake said, pulling my thigh wider. My skirt rode up.

“Guys!” I whined, squirming. Jake’s hand moved up my thigh. So did Leroy’s.

“Guys!!!” I whined, sort of both excited and flustered.

Jake touched my pussy, I could feel the back of his hand brushing up against my lips.

“Enough!” I pushed it away. I reached down and pushed both their hands off of me, then clamped my knees together. “We’re in a public place! Geez!”

“You’re right,” Jake said to Leroy. “No panties.”

“Guys!” I warned.

“I bet she was pretty wet too,” Leroy said.

“Guys!” I meant it. “Can you at least whisper?”

“Oh yeah,” he said.

“Guys!” That was it. I gave up and folded my arms.

“Nipples are just poking through her sweater,” Leroy said.

“I noticed.”

“How old is she?”

“I’m twenty-four,” I snapped. “Also, I’m in the room.”

“Is she clean?” Jake asked.

I had this overpowering sense of deja vu, for a moment, I felt distracted.

“I’m sitting right here,” I said, a little offended.

“Oh yeah,” Leroy said. “Just tested, absolutely clean. You can wear a condom, or not, up to you.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

I looked up at the ceiling.

“Yep,” I said loudly, staring upwards. “Just me. Sitting riiiigghhhttt here. Minding my own business. I suppose if someone was curious about me, they could ask me the questions.”

I glanced at Jake.

“Are you absolutely sure we’ve never met? I really feel like I know you. Or I’ve seen you somewhere.”

“Nope.”

“Kayley,” Leroy whispered, his hand sliding up my thigh. I tried not to moan as my legs parted involuntarily. Goddamn that man. “I think you should take care of Jake.”

I looked over at Jake. There was that sense of deja vu again, like I’d heard those exact words, had been here before.

“Why don’t you take him to the men’s room and help him out. He needs some relief.”

Leroy hadn’t touched my pussy, but I was wet and tingly. I felt like things were out of control, not in a bad way, but in a kind of drifting rudderless way, like I was caught up in a current. Ever since the moment that Leroy had pulled my hair back and tongued me in front of my startled friends, it had felt like events had slipped beyond my grasp. I was caught up in a sensual current of building eroticism, of intensifying sexuality. And my efforts at control kept being futile.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Leroy asked. Underneath his casual smile, his eyes were glittering and humourless. He patted my leg, and somehow, it wasn’t just a pat. He took my arm, and when he did, he squeezed just a little, but there was steel in it.

There was something more. Under Leroy’s genial playful exterior, there was something else, something chilling.

“I told Jake all about you,” he said, with a smile that wasn’t a smile. “Are you going to embarrass me?”

“Sorry,” I said aimlessly. “Well, uhm, it’s not about embarrassment. It’s just this is kind of fast. Like a surprise and stuff.”

He leaned over to whisper in my ear.

“Kayley,” he said, “You’ve fucked strangers in this bar. You’re horny as fuck, everyone can see your nipples. Jake’s a nice guy. Just do it. Do it for me, because I’m asking. If you don’t like it, I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

I would have let Leroy take me there in a heartbeat, he’d proven over and over again his ability to unstring me. I was willing to be fucked in the bathroom. I've done it how many times already? Jake didn't turn me on, but I was already turned on, already wet, already simmering in a stew of my own arousal. So, if Leroy wanted me to fuck Jake, why not?

Why not fuck Jake in the bathroom? Suddenly, I couldn’t find a good reason to say no. And there was this deja vu, almost like I’d already done it. Almost like I was caught up in a current and had to go all the way, see it through.

“Okay,” I whispered, surrendering.

“Good girl,” Leroy told me, clearly pleased. I felt oddly happy with the compliment, like a dog patted on the head.

It occurred to me that if I walked down that bar with Jake, walked down that short hallway to the Men’s Room, every pair of male eyes might be watching me, would know exactly what I was doing and where I was going, and what would be happening there.

They’d know I was going to get fucked. And when I came out, they’d know I’d been fucked, that I’d willingly spread my legs and been used, again. That a complete stranger had just shoved his cock up inside me and blown his load, again.

The thought made my heart race. I could feel my insides twist, almost like my womb was pulling up inside me, as my pussy clenched, and suddenly, I was really really wet.

What was it that turned me on? The humiliation? The idea that every man here knew I was a slut. That literally any of them could have had me, with a little luck or timing?

I was very close to a public commodity.

I picked up my phone quickly. “Gotta send a text,” I mumbled, and then dropped it in my purse. Who was I going to text? I didn’t know what to do. Stalling for time. Why not get it over with?

Jake reached into his pocket.

“Hey,” he said to Leroy, “I just remembered, I owed you for that ,,, thing.”

He pulled out his wallet and fished out a series of bills, tens and twenties, which he passed to Leroy.

“Don’t worry,” Leroy said, counting and shoving into his pocket. “I would have reminded you.”

“We square?”

“Yeah,” Leroy turned to smirk directly at me. “All paid up.”

What was that? It couldn’t be. I decided to ignore it and just barrel through. Taking Jake’s huge hand in mine, I smiled at him because he struck me as a genuinely nice guy, bland but nice, and whispered, “Let’s go.”

As he stood up, I got my first glimpse of the shape pressing against his loose fitting pants. My eyes widened slightly. I blushed and looked away.

Leroy had said he was hung.

“I just want you to know,” I told Jake, “I’m not some slut that does it with everyone. I only did it here with two guys, Leroy mostly and one other.”

“Three,” Leroy corrected.

What?

“No two,” I insisted. Then I remembered Sam. But Sam was different. But yeah, technically, he’d done me in the bathroom. “Okay, no. Three.”

“Four now,” Leroy smirked.

Fuck, I can’t even keep score. This is just getting worse and worse. Way to go, Kayley.

We walked quietly to the washrooms. I tried to get him into the Women’s Washroom, which was cleaner at least. He balked.

“It’s women only,” he said.

I rolled my eyes.

“So? We’re not supposed to be doing what we’re going to do, either. It’s cleaner in there.”

“I’m not going in there,” he insisted.

Like what, he’d get cooties? Fucking men, geez.

We walked into the Men’s room. There was a guy at the urinal. We waited. He turned around, looking over his shoulder, and saw me.

“Hey Kayley,” he said casually. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

I had no idea who he was. Very slowly, I blushed from the top of my hair all the way down to my toes.

“Okay,” I said.

“We’ll wait,” Jake said.

This was so awkward. I cast my eyes around, finding it hard to look at him. Picking out details of the Men’s Room I’d overlooked, or perhaps blotted out of my mind, on previous visits. Apparently, the word hygiene meant something completely different to men. Good to know.

He kept peeing as I waited for the ground to swallow me up from embarrassment. It didn’t. He kept peeing. And peeing.

It wasn’t so bad, I told myself. Twenty minutes with a flamethrower would spruce things right up.

Then he stopped, fixed what appeared to be the most complicated pants in the world, given the time he took. Then he washed his hands. Then he dried them.

“See you, Jake,” he said. “See you, Kayley. Have fun.” And walked past us.

“I have no idea who that was,” I told Jake.

“Neil.”

That didn’t make me feel less embarrassed.

But, now that Neil was gone, it was a little easier. It was true what Leroy had said. I was a slut legend around here. Or a sex goddess, depending on how you looked at it. There was a wanton power in that, which was kind of exciting.

I kind of hung there, mixed feelings of embarrassment and...excitement.

I wished Sam was here, listening on an open line. With Sam, I could be confident, I could be a goddess, knowing that he supported me, admired, backed me every step of the way. Hell, even having Leroy on an open line would be something.

But it was just me.

I turned to Jake, and said the first thing popped into my head.

“Do you come here often?”

And wanted to die. Oh my god.

Jake chuckled, as if I’d said something hip and clever and ironic. Yeah, okay, let’s go with that.

What do you say in these situations? With Derek and Leroy, we’d practically been in heat going in. There’d been no waiting, and no idiot at the urinal forcing us to wait. I cast about desperately. I spied a wedding ring. Oh shit. I was going to fuck a married man. This was horrible, I needed to start checking first. Maybe he was widowed, or divorced.

“You’re married?” I asked.

“Yeah, twenty years. Still going strong.”

“Cool.” Here’s me: The worst person in the world! Should I mention I was married too. No, awkward if he started asking questions.

“Kids?”

“Four.”

“Nice.”

Family man. Was I doing something wrong? Making him break his vows? Was this a special thing, just for me? Or did he do stuff like this regularly? Did I want to know? Probably not.

“You have nice breasts,” he said. “Nice nipples.”

“Thanks.”

“Are your breasts real?”

I wasn’t sure if that was rude. I decided not to be offended.

“They’re real,” I said. Something more was needed. “Would you like to see them?”

“Yes, please.”

I lifted my top exposing them. Then just took it off completely. While he was looking at them, I looked around for someplace not horrible to put it, then hung it off the stall door.

“Can I touch them?” he asked.

His hands reached for my breasts, as I backed against the toilet stall door, leaning against it. He was playing with the nipples, as I looked down on them, watching his huge hands. Seriously, his hand could cover my entire breast.

He lifted my skirt, exposing my pussy.

"Are you shaved?" He asked.

"Yes," I said. "Do you want to touch it?"

I unzipped the skirt and slid it down, not quite allowing it to touch the floor. I turned and draped it over the stall door. I was amazed at how casual I was. How long ago had been the first time with Leroy? I’d been so nervous, almost frantic. Derek had been a ridiculously awkward hasty venture. Sam was right, we’d changed so much.

I turned back and guided his hand between my legs.

“Gently,” I warned him. “Light touch, very gentle, very light.”

I felt like he was going to go there anyway, but at least this way, I had some control, rather than him just pawing me. Would he feel the slickness between my lips and be repulsed by the thought of touching it. Would he even know what it was?

"You're really wet," he whispered, as I guided his hand up and down gently over my pussy. Okay, he couldn’t tell the difference. His free hand fondled my breasts.

I reached for his pants, stroking his erection through his trousers. Fuck, he was big. Not stupid big. But big. Well endowed.

“I had some fun earlier,” I said, “I got really worked up.”

Throw him a bone, I thought.

I didn’t want him to feel bad.

“But, what you’re doing right now, is working me up too.”

“With Leroy?” He asked.

“Sort of.”

"You're gorgeous," he told me. "Your body is amazing."

Again, I had this crazy sense of deja vu, that I’d stood in this exact spot, with this exact man, and he’d said these words before. This had all happened before. Except it hadn’t, obviously.

“You’re big,” I replied. And then I snorted, trying not to laugh.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “You’re so tall! How tall are you? Six Four?”

“Six five,” he replied, “And a half, but taller in shoes.”

“Wow,” I said sincerely, “And hung,” as an afterthought.

As I said: He was big, but not stupid big. Not ridiculously big. Just Porn Star big. Bigger than anyone I’d ever been with, or seen in the Booths. Impressive, but not terrifyingly traumatic.

But really, what got me was how gloriously much of him there was. He was so tall, and he kind of spread out in all directions. His hands were these big paddles with fingers, his arms were almost as long as my legs. I could probably put both feet in one of his shoes. If I put my arms round him, they wouldn’t go all the way. There was something arresting and amazing about his sheer physical presence. It wasn’t even particularly sexual, not excessively, it was just... fascinating.

He wasn’t some ripped bodybuilder. He was kind of awkward, a bit padded, but that added to his humanity, it made him more fascinating, more real. His body, as broad and tall and massive, wasn't some idealized form. He was just a man. He was beautiful.

I promised myself that if I ever got the chance to get this man naked, I’d take it, just so I could explore every inch of him, fully appreciating the sheer human massiveness of his body.

Wait, he’s married. Oh fuck, well scratch that. This would be one and done.

“Can I unbutton your shirt a little,” I said, giving in to temptation. “I just want to touch you.”

He looked puzzled, like he couldn’t imagine why. And for just a second, I felt this moment of empathy, like it had been so long since anyone looked at him or touched him as a sensual being, he couldn’t even imagine anyone seeing him that way. I gave him my kindest smile, and worked my way down three or four buttons.

He was wearing an undershirt.

Damn it! What a giant fucking rip off!

I unbuttoned it the rest of the way, just so I wouldn’t look stupid. But, I was really disappointed. I reached down and unzipped him. His cock fell out.

It was the biggest cock I’d ever seen in person. Not stupid crazy big. But, big enough. Porn star size, a thick tube of uncircumcised flesh in my hands. I should have figured, the rest of him was kind of huge in all directions. He was so tall and his cock was so big it was practically tapping my breastbone, it was mind blowing how physically overwhelming he was.

He was hard, mostly, he was rigid, or the core was rigid, but the outer part, like maybe half an inch, was spongy. The skin felt a little loose. I’d come across cocks like this in the booths, just not so big.

I smiled at it, I couldn’t help it. Men are beautiful.

“Can you suck it,” he said, “To start me off.”

Somehow I wasn't surprised. He was so tall and it was so long he was practically there. If he was a few inches taller, I could blow him standing up. Well, not really, but seriously, his size distorted everything.

"All right," I said. "So, blow job. Come on in."

I opened the toilet stall door, and backed in, sitting on the toilet. He followed me in. I reached for his cock.

"Not like that," he said, pulling away.

"What?" I was honestly puzzled.

"Not sitting on the toilet," he said. "That's a gross way to give a blow job. It's not hygienic."

"Oh."

"You should be on your knees. When women suck cocks, they should always be kneeling."

Who the fuck made up that rule? What the hell? I looked down.

“The floor is really gross.”

“Still. That’s the proper way. You can wash your knees,” he said.

Was he for real?

“And those hard tiles are going to mess with my knees,” I complained. “I don’t want to kneel on them. They’ll hurt.”

That got him.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Good point. You should have something to pad it.”

Like what? I thought. I didn’t see newspapers or foam rubber pads or anything. Was there a cupboard?

Jake handed me my sweater and skirt. He expected me to kneel on my expensive angora sweater? At this point, I realized I was a small petite naked girl who had already agreed to sex, and he was a six foot five inch behemoth. I mean sure, he was harmless. I felt safe with him. But when a giant hands you your sweater to kneel on... you kneel on it.

“Thanks,” I said, bundling it and getting down on my knees.

Jake reached for my head, placing one hand on the back, and then moving it to the side as he placed his second hand. The grip wasn't tight though, and he didn't thrust into my mouth. He let me open wide and take it in, as he guided my head back and forth.

It was so big there wasn’t really anything to do with it. There was no teasing, no exotic tricks with my tongue. He just put his cock in my mouth, and I did my best to suck it, bobbing my head back and forth, squeezing it between my lips, and trying to slurp it with my tongue.

After a minute, he took his hands off and grabbed the tops of the stall walls, almost suspending himself. I kept bobbing, one hand gripping the base of his shaft, the other playing with his balls.

"That's really good," he whispered. "You're a really good cock sucker, I can tell. Girls who love to suck cocks, you can tell the difference. I'd love to come in your mouth sometime. I bet you swallow."

The door opened.

“Busy,” Jake said sternly.

“Oh, hey Jake,” someone said. I didn’t see them, they were blocked by the stall door. “I just need to pee. Two minutes.”

“I said busy,” Jake repeated.

“Just two-”

“Busy! Use the other restroom!” he bellowed.

Silence. The Men’s Room door closed. Jake looked down at me.

“Sorry about that.”

I looked up from my knees, my lips distended around his erection. I tried to make agreeing noises in my throat. Actually, I did like sucking cock, the right cock. But this was...uninspired. Not awful or unpleasant, just kind of nothing. But, he seemed to like it. I guess this was his idea of a great blow job. As a general rule, I’ve found the bigger a cock, the less you can do in terms of creative, inspired oral sex.

"Okay, that's enough," he said. "I want to fuck you now."

"All right." I pulled off, I was still wet, so I thought it would be okay. "Then come and fuck me with that big cock of yours, I need a good fucking."

I like talking dirty, and with that thought came another deja vu flash. I ignored it. God, I must be getting repetitive, saying it over and over. I smiled and bent over the toilet bracing myself with my forearms on the toilet tank. I arched my back and swung my hips seductively.

"This pussy is so wet," I husked. "Waiting for you."

He pushed it inside me. I wasn't as crazy wet as I'd been with Leroy, so he felt bigger, and because he was so much taller, his cock, when it went in me, angled down in a way that was surprisingly, intensely pleasurable.

"Fuck!" I cried out. "That cock feels good!"

It wasn't quite acting, it really did feel good, and I really was surprised. As fucked up as the situation was, I was wet, his cock was hard, and there was something bizarre and exciting.

"Your pussy feels really tight."

"Oh yeah," I agreed. "Now fuck it, fuck my tight little pussy with that big hard cock!"

But he was already thrusting hard, his hands on my hips, plunging deep and down with every push. I moaned in genuine pleasure, feeling my heart racing, my knees trembling. My arousal built with each thrust. My breasts swayed back and forth. His fingers dug into my hips.

The sheer size of his body was overpowering, and despite my efforts, my face was mashed up against the back wall with the force of each thrust, making me use my arms to cushion myself. I felt almost like a bug hitting a windshield, going splat.

Then he stopped, after only a dozen or so thrusts still buried in me. He was grunting as he pulled out.

"What's wrong?"

"I don’t like this way. I like I to see you when I fuck you."

He turned me around, pushing me back gently, until my ass was up on the toilet tank. I felt cool porcelain on my butt.

"Hold on," he said.

He reached down, hooking an elbow under one knee and lifted. I grunted, just for a moment, I felt like a wishbone. I could feel my pussy suddenly gaping wide. Then he got his other elbow under my other knee, and suddenly I was literally suspended, ass perched on the toilet tank, practically bent double. He pulled my hips forward, until they were literally at the edge of the lid, and moved his hips forward, straddling the toilet bowl.

"Holy shit!" I was astonished.

This is what sex with really big guys is like I guess. They literally can pick you up and turn you into a human pretzel. It was exciting and disorienting. Suddenly, I couldn't move, my knees were up in the air, hooked over his elbows, my feet were dangling, I was spread wide open, so I could feel myself gaping between my legs. My pussy was wide open and presented for mounting.

With one surge of his hips, he thrust up into me, bottoming out, and making me cry out with breathless pleasure. He grunted as he pumped up into me.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned. I’d never felt so full, I felt stretched, opened, vividly aware of how far up inside me he was, of the uncomfortable pressure of his cock head on my cervix.

Pinning me against the wall, I could feel him pulling back almost half way. It felt like my insides were collapsing inwards as he withdrew. Then he thrust up, all the way in, filling me all over again, my eyes bulged and I went red in the face, wincing as he smashed past my cervix again and again, relentlessly.

“Oh shit!” I grunted, with his thrust. Then “Ohhh,” as he withdrew, and “Oh shit!” It became a litany as he started to fuck me like that, pinned like a butterfly, contorted like a pretzel, utterly helpless, my cunt a sleeve for his massive cock. “Ohhh...Oh shit! Ohh...Oh shit! Ohh…Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!”

There was something disorienting about it, being hammered inside out. He felt so fucking big, and every time he thrust, it pushed my lungs out, and I never quite refilled them on the down stroke, until I was gasping desperately for air on each thrust.

"Oh fuck!" I moaned. "Oh fuck! Your cock feels so big."

With each thrust, I could feel my whole body rock and lift as he rammed up into me. My shoulders and head were slammed against the wall behind me. His cock fell out, and he just pulled back and rammed in again, making me cry out.

"Oh fuck," I grunted. He was fucking me so hard it was almost hard to breath. I kept trying to time my breaths to his rapid thrusts, panting at a dizzying rate. But, he kept knocking the breath out of me.

Jake was barreling towards orgasm, I could feel the heat bursting off his body as his frenzied pounding ramped up. His cock felt bigger in me, hotter, harder.

"Yes," I cried my own orgasm closing in. "Fuck. Fuck me. Come in me. I need--"

Then it hit him, I practically saw his eyes roll up. Suddenly, he was pushing into me like a freight train, all his weight and muscle flattening me against the wall, contorting me even further, as his cock swelled and shot rope after rope of viscous semen up inside me. Teeth clenched, his face a rictus of contorted muscle, made this roaring noise in his throat, pumping into me with spastic jerks, trying to achieve a few more millimeters of penetration.

Finally, he relaxed, but he didn't let go. He held me in place as he panted and came down, our bodies jammed together so hard, I couldn't even get my fingers in to reach my clit if I wanted to.

My orgasm had been so close. Now it hovered, dissolving slowly into this sort of wet generalized arousal, a pressing mindless need to be fucked, even after the hard cock inside me, slowly softened and shrank with each tick of a second.

"Oh fuck," he whispered, relaxing finally. "You're a good whore. You're a real piece of ass. Fuck. Good cocksucker, tight pussy, hot bod, clean. Worth it. Any time you're around, I'm going to have you again."

There it was. Leroy’s insistence. Money changing hands right in front of me. I’d refused to think about it, but now I know. The knowledge merged with the erotic haze of his cock and semen in me, my own orgasm so close but not quite there, a sexual frustration and need unfilled and now the dirty knowledge. I wasn’t here to come, I was here to be used. I forced my fingers between us, stroking my clitoris roughly, pushing past, hooking fingers in my pussy and grinding my palm.

“Say it again,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Say I’m a good whore,” I hissed.

“Fuck,” he said, “You’re a great whore, better than most of the girls on the street. Nice fucking tits. Hot body. Pretty. Best I’ve had in a while.”

Oh god, I was so fucking close.

“Tight?” I demanded, my voice almost a whine.

“Oh fuck, yes. Tight wet cunt. No attitude like some whores. You just spread and take it like you love it. Fantastic whore. Fuck, I’d pay double. I’d pick you off the street any time.”

The orgasm came over me rolling like a tidal wave, capped with a foam of self loathing, carrying with it a filthy mess of dark emotions and thoughts, angst, self hatred, betrayal, depraved lust and worst of all an exultation that this was really who I was now, and I was where I belonged.

He grunted oblivious, lowering me. I felt my weight settle on the toilet tank lid. He sank down, sitting reverse cowgirl on the toilet seat, letting my knees lower, slipping his elbows from under. I felt very stretched out and cramped all at once. Up inside, I felt the sensation of his cum oozing rapidly inside me as my position shifted.

"Here," I said awkwardly, "Can you let me out?"

He backed away in the stall, and pulled up his pants, handing me my sweater and skirt which were now dirty and more mangled.

I felt jangly, I guess being contorted into a pretzel does that to you. It was like my limbs didn't feel right, my walk was loose and almost bouncy. My pussy, leaking cum again, felt funny.

“Well,” I said diplomatically, stretching awkwardly and recovering from pretzelness, “That was intense.”

"Can I take a picture?" he asked.

“Excuse me!”

“To show the guys in the bar, to prove I was here with you.”

I wasn’t sure if that made it worse or better. On the other hand, I was naked with a six foot five behemoth, so maybe it would be nice. Then I laughed at myself. This guy was a giant teddy bear. He might turn me into a pretzel, fucking me, but he wasn’t scary. I even kind of liked him.

And I was in a weird, jangly mood. Freshly fucked, it kind of throws you a little. I’d had an orgasm, barely but it was there, so I was sort of feeling well disposed to him, and open. You know how it is when you come, and you just feel nicer and more receptive to things.

I chewed my lip.

“Just one picture?”

“Just one.”

“Uhm,” I said. “I suppose. I can put my clothes back on, and we can take it together.”

“I was thinking, just you, and naked?”

I laughed out loud. Men! Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile.

“I dunno.”

“Please.”

The thing was, I really wasn’t happy with Leroy cornering me into having sex with this guy. I didn’t like it and I didn’t feel good about it.

But weirdly, I kind of liked Jake. Not in love or anything, and not huge, we weren’t going to be best friends. But, I felt affection for him. Maybe it was the orgasm or something. I was cranky that Leroy had pushed me. But, what Jake was asking was coming from him, not from Leroy. In some indefinable way, doing it would be a ‘fuck you Leroy’ kind of move.

And hell, I’d just given a live sex show in the back of a cab. I’d masturbated in front of a cab driver. Compared to that? This was phhttt.

Maybe I was a bit of an exhibitionist after all.

“Okay, sure,” I said. What the hell, right? Live a little. “But don’t text or email it to anyone, okay? It stays on your phone, period.”

“I understand,” he said. “I promise.”

“And make sure your wife never sees it!”

“All right,” I said, as he took out his smart phone. “Where do you want this?”

“Right there is fine.”

He held up his phone.

“A couple, just to make sure. I’ll keep the best and delete the others.”

“Fine,” I said, it made sense.

I cocked my hip, placing one hand on it, held up the other in a peace sign, and grinned.

“That’s good.”

Suddenly, I was curious.

“Let me look,” I said, stepping over to him. He turned the phone around, and we checked me out. I sucked air though my teeth, and then blew it out. Yikes.

“Holy shit! That’s bad,” I said. The lighting was just awful, stark and the angle of it made my skin tone look bluish, and put shadows on my face. I looked like a zombie crack ho. The image cut off part of the peace sign I was holding up making it look like I was giving the finger, and he’d cut my legs off at the knees.

Also, I looked fat.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I like it.”

The other two were even worse. I mean, holy shit!

Men!!!!

“No,” I said, taking charge because he was clearly hopeless. “Delete it! Delete them all! We’ll take a better one.

The Men’s Room wasn’t a big place for all the sex I’d had in here. A couple of toilet stalls, three urinals against one wall. A sink.

One sink.

Let that filter in. Men are pigs. Okay, technically, there were two sinks. But, one was out of order, and looked like it had been for some time. Men are still pigs.

But it was pretty clear that the lighting around the stalls was dire. And Jake’s approach to photography was the same as his approach to sex, point and shoot. No, I’m sorry, that was mean of me. Kind of true-ish though. So I needed to take charge.

I moved around the Men’s Room, looking for places where the light was more flattering and striking poses. Jake would take a few pictures in each spot, we’d talk poses, and then we’d try somewhere else. Jake’s idea of poses was along the lines of “spread your legs wide” and “Okay bend over, show us your butt hole.” I tried to be a little more creative. At one point I got on the broken sink and did a split beaver and scissored my legs, with this pained smile because I was worried the sink would collapse. We did the poses I found fun.

Then we turned the phone around, and went through about thirty pics. About twenty were just awful. We deleted those right away. About a dozen, mostly mine, like my ideas and my choices of poses, were kind of cool. We argued a little about those, but I had the last word.

In the end, we settled on three. There was one of me between two urinals, arms outstretched, one knee up and bent a little inward so you couldn’t see my pussy at all, grinning crazily, looking for all the world like I was doing a chorus girl number with toiletware. That was my favourite.

Then there was one of me leaning back against a tiled wall, one hand under my breasts, framing them, while I pretended to hold a cigarette in my other hand and gazed at the camera with Parisian detachment.

The last one was of me in the corner, one leg up with my heel hooked in the basin of the urinal, one hand pulling my pussy forward so it was on full graphic display, and I was giving a come hither smile. That was his favourite, because of course it was.

I let him keep those three and made him delete the rest.

Well, actually, I let him keep one more. It was a crotch shot, where I was holding my pussy lips wide open, and you could see his pearly semen oozing. But, you couldn’t see my face or anything identifying in there. Completely anonymous and generic. Literally, you could get ten thousand of the same thing off the internet.

“You’re really creative,” he told me. “You should have been an artist.”

I preened. This has been fun. Sexy fun, but not overwhelming. It was playful, sexy, not stressful, even kind of de-stressing. I liked that we had a bit of fun that Leroy didn’t own. I think we took as much time talking and taking pictures as we did fucking. Well, pretty close.

“Aw thanks,” I told him, while I was pulling on my skirt and angora, “You big galoot, bend down so I can give you a peck on the cheek!”

Peck duly delivered, I checked myself in the mirror, tidied up a bit, and tsk’d about the state of my Angora sweater. It had fallen off the stall door at some point, and apparently been stepped on. Angora collects dirt like you wouldn’t believe, and the floor near a public toilet...I sighed, barely wearable, for now.

Jake stood around watching, I half expected him to be out the door. Maybe he just liked looking at me. I wiggled my butt a little for him, not much, it was practically subliminal, and smiled into the mirror.

I realized I was dragging it out a little. I wasn’t sure how I felt about going out there. It felt like when I went out, every single man there would be looking at me, knowing I got fucked in a disgusting Men’s Room, knowing I was the biggest slut ever. That’s pretty intimidating.

But there was also a part that wanted to be bold, to look them in the eye, because I was an unstoppable sex goddess, and whatever shit they whispered back and forth, every single one would jerk off over me, and would give their left nut to have a chance, that I was their wet dream. And Leroy was out there, a mixture of hot sexiness, and wild kink, and bullshit, and he’d be smirking over sending me to fuck some guy like he’d won a prize. Sam wouldn’t smirk, Sam would cheer for me. So much uncertainty and bullshit out there. No wonder I lingered here.

Something occurred to me.

Turning away from the mirror, I asked casually, keeping any note of concern out of my voice, “Hey, just how much did you pay Leroy to have sex with me?”

“A hundred dollars,” he replied and shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” I said. My makeup needed a touch up. I opened my purse, pulled out a compact, powdered a little, and fixed my lipstick.

Apparently I was a prostitute now, it seemed. I supposed Leroy found that funny. Probably laughed about it.