The Fuck

"Hey! I'm not fucking playing! Open this door!" Damian’s fists hammered against the heavy wood.

The vibrations visibly rattled the mop handle I’d wedged under the knob.

But all I could focus on was the sight in front of me.

Jennifer.

Stripped completely bare.

Standing in a puddle of her own discarded vinyl and lace, her perfect tits heaving with every ragged breath she took.

The way her pussy glistened under the buzzing lights was almost… romantic.

"What's NEXT, sir?" she purred again, emphasizing the word “next” a bit forcibly.

The sheer audacity of it… the raw, filthy exhibitionism of letting me fuck her while her ex-boyfriend raged inches away… sent a surge of adrenaline straight to my cock.

It demanded to be let out.

"Turn around," I commanded, intentionally dropping my voice into a rough, ragged growl. "Bend over the sink."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, a sarcastic little smile playing on her red lips. "Yes, sir. Your rough alpha-male commands really turn my simple female mind into a wet puddle, sir."

Despite her sarcastic tone, she still turned around, the high heels of her boots clicking on the dirty tiles, and planted her hands flat on the edge of the porcelain sink.

She arched her back aggressively, sticking her thick, heavy ass high into the air, presenting her dripping wet pussy to me like a piece of prime meat.

And it was dripping. It truly was.

I was making her this horny.

Well, me and this situation. And the app of course.

The reason hardly mattered.

I stepped up behind her, pushing my jeans down to my knees.

My rock-hard cock sprang free, twitching in the cool air.

I grabbed her hips, my fingers digging hard into her soft, pale flesh.

"Spread your legs," I commanded.

"Careful, sir, you might pull a muscle giving so many orders," she mocked, but she instantly widened her stance, opening herself up completely.

I didn't bother with foreplay.

She didn't need it.

We had no time for it.

The filthy thrill of her ex-boyfriend pounding on the door mere feet away had her cunt oozing.

I aligned the broad head of my dick with her slick, swollen folds.

I grabbed a fistful of her dark hair to hold her steady, and with one brutal, unrelenting thrust…

I was finally inside Jenny.

I was inside the arrogant, hot goth princess who thought I was less than dirt when we first met.

Jennifer moaned, her sarcastic facade shattering.

Her head whipped back against my shoulder, her mouth open in the silent thrill of ecstasy.

“Fuckk…”, she moaned.

She was incredibly, impossibly tight.

Her inner walls clamped down around my shaft like a hot, wet vice, milking me with every frantic pulse of her heartbeat.

"Jesus, you're so fucking tight," I grunted, pulling almost all the way out before slamming my hips forward again, burying myself deep in her guts.

The loud SMACK of my pelvis hitting her ass cheeks echoed like a gunshot in the tiled room.

She felt so fucking good.

This was worth the wait.

"Open the door!" Damian roared outside, kicking the wood. The mop handle bowed dangerously. "I swear to God, dude! If you’re doing something to Jen, I-"

"Oh my god," Jennifer moaned, her voice trembling as I picked up my pace and pounded into her. "I hope that noise isn’t distracting you, sir?” she spoke between the poundings.

"Shut up and focus on getting fucked, bitch," I snarled, the moment taking me over completely. All the nervousness had left my body, and I was in full domination-mode.

I established a punishing, relentless rhythm, pulling out and slamming back into her dripping cunt over and over again.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

I was pounding her to the beat of her ex pounding his fist on the door.

The sound of wet, slapping flesh mixed with her breathless gasps and Damian's frantic pounding.

I reached around her waist with my free hand, grabbing one of her heavy, bouncing tits.

I squeezed the soft flesh brutally, rolling her stiff nipple between my thumb and forefinger while I fucked her from behind.

"Ahhh! Yes! Fuck, yes, sir!" she whimpered, her wits melting into a desperate, needy whine.

Her pussy squeezed my cock with violent spasms.

She pushed back against my thrusts, her boots slipping slightly on the wet tiles, demanding more depth, more force.

The violence of our sex was shaking the entire bathroom. I pushed her harder against the porcelain sink with every thrust, leveraging my weight to drive my cock as deep into her womb as humanly possible.

"You like getting fucked raw while your ex listens, you dirty slut?" I panted, slapping her ass cheek so hard it left a bright red handprint on her pale skin.

"I love it," she sobbed, her fingernails scraping against the porcelain. "I love your big cock, sir. Fuck my tight little pussy! Make him hear it!"

The sheer force of my thrusts was taking a toll on the fixtures.

The heavy ceramic sink was groaning under our combined weight. The bolts holding it to the tiled wall began to squeal and pop.

"Jen!" Damian screamed, the desperation in his voice turning into blind rage.

CRACK.

The door shuddered as he threw his entire shoulder against it.

"He's going to get in," Jennifer gasped, her eyes wide as she looked at me in the mirror.

"I don't give a fuck," I roared. I gripped her hips tighter, pulling her back and slamming my pelvis into her ass with maximum, devastating force.

CRUNCH.

The loose bolts ripped out of the wall.

The heavy porcelain sink sheared off its mountings with a deafening, catastrophic crash, shattering into dozens of jagged white pieces across the floor.

Somehow we both avoided scratches and injuries, but at that point, neither of us would have even noticed.

A pipe snapped, sending a high-pressure geyser of cold water spraying across the bathroom, soaking our legs and the walls.

Jennifer shrieked, stumbling forward as her support vanished, but I didn't stop.

I couldn't stop.

I caught her by the waist, holding her up, pushing her against the pale wall and the sputtering pipes, and kept pounding into her wet, gripping cunt amidst the spray of the broken pipe and the shattered porcelain.

"I'm cumming!" she screamed, her body convulsing violently in my arms. Her pussy clamped down on my cock with crushing, agonizing pressure, milking me dry. "Ahhh! Fuck!"

The intense, squeezing contractions of her orgasm pushed me over the edge.

The pressure in my balls was a blinding white heat.

As much as I wanted to cum inside her like I owned her, I wasn’t ready to become a dad.

I grunted, ripping my cock out of her tight, slick hole with a loud, wet pop.

I spun her around, grabbing her by the shoulders. Her eyes were glazed over, her chest heaving, water spraying against her back.

I aimed my throbbing dick right at her massive, bare breasts.

With a guttural roar, I erupted.

Thick, hot ropes of my cum shot through the air, splattering violently across her pale skin.

The first heavy glob caught her right on the left cheek; the next painted a thick white streak across her collarbone.

I pumped my hips, groaning loudly as I emptied my balls completely, painting her SSS-tier tits with a sticky, pearly mess.

Jennifer leaned back against the wet, tiled wall, panting heavily, looking down at her cum-covered breasts with a corrupted, dizzy smile.

At that exact, chaotic moment, the mop handle finally snapped in half with a loud crack.

The heavy wooden door burst open, slamming against the tiled wall.

Damian stumbled into the bathroom, his chest heaving, his fists clenched.

The blaring bass of the nightclub flooded into the room, mixing with the sound of the spraying water.

He froze.

His eyes swept over the shattered, geysering sink, the puddle of water, and then locked onto the scene in the center of the room.

Jennifer, his ex-girlfriend, the untouchable goth queen, wearing nothing but boots and a collar, panting against a wet wall with her tits completely coated in fresh, dripping semen.

And me… a nobody with my jeans around my ankles, my half-soft dick still twitching and glistening with her juices.

The color drained from Damian's face.

His jaw trembled.

The look in his eyes morphed from shock to absolute, murderous fury.

His hands balled into tight fists, his knuckles turning white.

For a split second, a cold spike of mortal terror pierced my chest.

This guy was going to kill me.

He was going to beat me to death on these wet tiles.

But then, a deep calmness washed over me.

I had been in this situation a few times now.

Just when it looked like everything was going to fall apart… the secret power of being inside the app’s event somehow saved me, and made everything go my way.

I decided not to be scared anymore. I decided to finally just trust it.

It was like wearing plot armor. Nothing could actually hurt me.

I casually pulled up my jeans, zipping them up with an infuriatingly calm demeanor.

I stepped over a piece of shattered porcelain and walked right up to Damian.

I reached out and placed a gentle, patronizing hand on his rigid shoulder.

"Listen, man," I said, my voice smooth, deep, and utterly condescending. "I know it's tough to see. But she's moved on. Maybe you should do?"

Damian didn't say a word.

He didn't scream. He didn't argue.

His face just morphed from an all-consuming anger to…

An insane grin?

Before I knew what happened, his right arm snapped back, and his fist shot forward like a fucking piston.

Then everything turned black.

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