He Tells Her To Get Lost

“Get lost before I call the cops.” Charles responded fending off a surging pang of resentment.

Turning and walking across the lot. “And don’t dare let me catch you here again. You can’t afford to whore here!” Charles rambled on as he approached the club, gesturing for a bouncer to keep an eye on Jennifer.

Jennifer sighed with disappointment, why was it so hard to get fucked in this town? Standing up she brushed off her knees and glanced at the time.

Little T's wasn’t due to close for at least another two hours.

Making her way over there Jennifer debated what would be the easiest course of action to not only get some tonight, but put her on the radar of ever horn dog for an hours drive around.

Pushing up her cleavage she lined up to get in, smiling happily as she was waved through without paying any cover. Pressing herself into the security guard patting her down she asked with a raised eyebrow what they were up to after work.

A cold distant keep out of trouble their bland response.

Not to mention one Jennifer didn’t intend to follow.

Little T's was an absolute dive. Its heavily worn stained and in some places sticky floors were packed with many s reveller, 18 to… well Jennifer previously didn’t want to know, now, now however it didn’t matter.

The dress code exhibited the same bipolar attitide as the music a hip hop song giving way to the twangs of a country hit. From torn jeans and tees to tiny cocktail dresses, this place was as much a crime as a victim of being the only night clubs for hours around.

She meandered the crowd, groping ass, crotches, tits.

Having her hands slapped away, scoldings, threats, propositions for meeting up later. But she didn’t want to wait for later.

“Mmm… Thank you. But I’m busy.” The response to an errant finger tugging the bottom of a skirt snapped all of Jennifer’s attention around to the dirty blonde girl.

They’re eyes remained locked, the dirty blonde girls figure pressed tightly against a guy. Her red open backed cocktail dress advertising the lack of bra, its length barely reaching below her ass which it hugged so tight to allude to a lack of panties.

Her hands were tightly held between her and the guy in his torn run down jeans and faded tee shirt.

Jennifer felt like they had a mutual magnetism, some strange ethereal connection that lead Jennifer closer, her own hand reaching between the couple as her lips met with the blondes, Jennifer’s fingers stroking up some precum from the head of the clasped cock and sucking it from her finger.

“I could always join.” Jennifer offered, dancing closer and closer.

Each time their lips touched, their fingers met on the cock, and they touched it was like fireworks, the intense bursts of pleasure followed by thunderous claps of desire growing in intensity.

Occasionally the trio would bump into someone on the dance floor, a quick kiss from Jennifer or the dirty blonde distracting the person with a **** passionate kiss. Allowing the discreet hand job on the floor to continue.

Each drop of precum not lubricated across the cock, brought by finger to each other’s lips. Their intense passion and attraction growing until…