Keep Listening

Mercy Graves closed her eyes and shut out the world as she listened to those two sluts in the bathroom stall. The wet schlick of fingers ramming in and out of holes, the thump of the toilet seat that Maria was leaning against as Lois Lane bucked and thrust with both hands now, rubbing and spreading the barmaid open. Lane was doing most of the talking, a constant babble of dirty words that seemed to cut straight through Mercy's brain—

"...taste of your sticky gash, you horny little bitch. I wish I had a cock so I could ride you raw. See you moan and writhe on my big dick as I filled up your fuckholes..."

And as the minutes went by, and Mercy rubbed her own much-neglected clit, Lane petered out, the words giving way to gasps and moans, whispered entreaties and grunting declarations. This wasn't making love, this wasn't some placid missionary babymaking married bullshit, like the softcore late night specials on LexCorp TV. This was raw, frenetic, primal and creative fucking. And Mercy winched her eyes tighter as she heard Lois and Maria's grunts grow louder, until the barmaid was almost howling...and Mercy wondered if Lane had finally shoved her hand all the way up that plump ass, or what was happening, and all the time she was getting close, so close...

Then a hand slapped over Maria's mouth, and the other side of the wall went deathly quiet. No squeaks, no thumps, no moans. Mercy held her breath until her lungs hurt, frozen in place, heart pounding in her chest...

"Did you hear something?" Lois said, in a quiet whisper...and Mercy's heart started beating faster.