You grab me by the waist, your hands rough and possessive, sliding lower with a deliberate touch. Our eyes meet, and with a slow, knowing nod, you signal that the time has come. You turn me around, positioning me perfectly so I can see him clearly.
You chose him for me. You chose this bar, too—your favorite haunt, where the air is thick with neon lights, spicy drinks, laughter, and the sway of bodies. It’s always been filled with beautiful women and even hotter men, but they mean nothing to you unless they can serve one purpose: my pleasure. And now, you've chosen one.
One man. One drink.
The chilled liquid pours over my chest, soaking through the thin white blouse you so cleverly made me wear without anything beneath. The fabric clings to my skin, turning translucent.You knew exactly what you were doing. Now, under the pulsing glow of neon, you hold me close, your strong arms keeping me in place from behind, while my nipples harden for all to see. You grab my breasts, kneading them with slow appreciation, as if ensuring they are just as full, just as heavy as you intended to present them. Satisfied, you give him a nod, though he hardly needed the invitation.
He steps closer, his eyes dark with hunger. Around us, the bar hums with muted voices, but I no longer hear the music. No more laughter, no more dancing. You bastard. You want them all to see. You want them to witness my humiliation.
His fingers move with deliberate slowness, undoing a few buttons—not that it matters. The fabric already betrays everything. He knows it, teasing me with light touches over my stiff peaks. I whimper. You tighten your grip, holding me in place as his fingers trail down, brushing aside the flimsy barrier of my blouse. My breath catches when his lips replace his fingers, latching onto my exposed nipple, sucking gently, yet with such intensity that my legs tremble.
Your knee spreads my legs from behind, leaving me completely open for him. He doesn’t hesitate. His hand slips under my skirt, fingers exploring the lace of my panties—so delicate, so utterly useless. He traces my arousal, the damp fabric a mere formality, and then, with one slow motion, he slides them aside, his fingers slipping inside me with ease. My gasp is swallowed by the heat of the moment. My body betrays me, melting into his touch.
There’s still a crowd. I know they’re watching. But my eyes are closed, my world reduced to heat, wetness, and the pulse of pleasure between my legs.
Then, a shift. He pulls my panties down in one fluid motion. The air against my bare, swollen flesh is shocking. Of course, they saw everything before, but this... this makes it real. This makes it undeniable. A mark. A brand. A declaration of my depravity.
And just when I think I understand my place, you take control in a way I never expected. Without a word, you bend me over the nearby barstool, lifting my skirt to expose me fully. Your palm lands on my ass in a sharp slap, the sting blooming into heat. I cry out—a sound caught between shame and desperate need.
"You slut," you murmur darkly, your voice thick with possession. "You whore. Now you’ll get what you deserve."
The head of your cock presses against my soaked hole. There’s no hesitation. No warning. You drive into me, burying yourself to the hilt, forcing my body to take all of you. My blouse finally gives up, the buttons scattering as my breasts spill free, bouncing with each deep, ruthless thrust. I am on display—just as you wanted.
And he is not idle. His fingers curl into my hair, tilting my face toward him. He guides my mouth to his cock, pressing the swollen tip against my lips. I moan, the sound vibrating against him as you continue fucking me, each thrust pushing me closer to him, making me take him deeper. My tongue flicks, my lips wrap around him, and you set the pace. A perfect rhythm of submission.
But then, another shift. You pull out, only to press against my tighter entrance. My breath hitches. You wouldn’t—
You do.
The stretch is slow, agonizing, until my body surrenders. Now, I am truly conquered. My moans turn into helpless whimpers, my body trembling as you claim me completely.
He finishes first, spilling hot and thick across my face, marking me, branding me as the wanton slut you’ve made me. And then you follow, deeper inside my ass, filling me with your heat until there’s no part of me left untouched by you.
I remain there, bent over the stool, dripping with both of you, my body still quivering, my breath ragged. I know they are still watching. I know they’ve seen everything.
And I know that I belong to you.
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