It was midnight. I had been cramming for an AP test and had just pulled an all nighter, and I felt so tired I slumped in my car seat. New York at night was a sight to see; lights everywhere, cars everywhere, and bars everywhere, too.

I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing. Should I be here? Isn't it dangerous? But I had never drunk more than one glass of wine, and even then I would feel woozy yet comfortable. And I was getting a migraine. Maybe, just maybe, this was the right thing to do.

I stepped out of my Volvo. Its silver cover glinted deliciously in the big, black night sky, illuminated by the commotion and lights below. I was careful not to rip my new short Mulberry dress, black and skimming my hips, wrapping around my long legs and clinging to my small but firm breasts. I picked up my Gucci purse. I wasn't being a snob, but didn't people at least dress up to get drunk or something?

Walking right up confidently to the most famous local bar, Let's All Get Drunk!, the noise from inside got louder. Grunts from sluts and bastards getting hooked up; shouts and cries and hysterical laughter from the drunks; chanting and encouraging from those watching the strip show.

Suddenly nervous, I smoothed my straight, silky auburn hair to my elbows. I jiggled my bracelet nervously. Absentmindedly I traced my tiny waist, my bigger boobs, my smooth thighs. Should I really have come here?

"You coming, babe?" the voice was right next to me. A man about in his late twenties stared at my boobs hungrily. In his hand was a half-drunk Budweiser. I smiled, hoping it was seductive. And according to his expression, it was.

I strutted in, sashaying my hips. I could feel the man's eyes on my ass. But I wasn't here to have sex-I was here to get drunk.

He followed me to the bar. I couldn't see his face entirely, because the only lights here were from the strip show. But the way I was sitting, to the left, he could see me entirely. This made me uncomfortable, but hopefully he'd get down with some other slut around.

"Vodka," I told the bartender. I thought about it. "No added rum, and while you're at it, give me a shot of juice." He nodded, ducked behind the bar, and came up with a beer bottle with a humongous mountain of foam. Greedily I sipped, then gulped.

"Another Budweiser, John," the man next to me said. "The usual." Hmm. His voice sounded familiar-that husky, sexy voice I knew too well.

"Wait." I grabbed his arm. In surprise, he looked at me, though his face was still hidden in the dark. Then pleasure spread across his face. He used his other arm to grab my waist. "Yeah, babe?"

"You're...Wren? Wren Hamilton?"

"Yeah," he said drunkenly. "And you're sexy."

I blushed, but kept my expression hard. "Don't you remember me? Adrienne Taylor? Your ex girlfriend?"

"Oh, Adrienne," he slurred. "Right. Why did you break up with me again?"

"Because you got drunk too much," I said stubbornly.

"Oh," he said, suddenly jerking his torso to mine, pressing my breasts against his hard chest. He smashed his lips to mine, kissing hard. A thrill went down my spine. Before, we always kissed like this, but most times I rejected. It was too hardcore.

Many times he wanted to have sex, but I didn't want to get pregnant when I was half-way through college. His tongue intruded my mouth, and surprisingly my tongue welcomed his. Inside I protested - outside, I was getting wonderfully wet.

Someone hooted as they passed by. One guy slapped my ass. I didn't care-Wren was wrapping his hands around my boobs, his erection pressing up into my wet cunt; my hands all over his muddy blonde hair, groping it, pressing him closer.

Suddenly I broke apart. We both breathed hard, gasping for air; in our world it was only us. The sluts and the beer and the bar all disappeared-it was only us. But as awesome as it felt to get horny, I knew I couldn't. Kissing was one thing-but it led to only another.

"Wren," I murmured. "I can't."

He squeezed my boob. "Why?"

"You know why."

"C'mon."

"No, Wren."

"Don't it feel great?"

"Of course. You know I love it."

"I bet you haven't gotten tied down in months. Maybe years."

A bloom of red spread across my face. "Nuh-uh!"

"Uh-huh."

"Is not."

"Is so."

We bickered like little kids until we both started laughing. This was why I loved Wren-besides his bastard side, he was so smart and caring and always knew how to make me laugh. But I remembered how he hurt me by telling me I had to have sex with him. Then again...he had been drunk.

His face turned hard. "Look. I'm going to tell everyone-Mandy, Jason, even your parents-that little miss goody goody went to a bar and almost hooked up with her ex."

"What?" I asked in horror. Mandy-my best friend, Jason, my current boyfriend? Worst of all-my parents?

"If you don't have sex with me," he concluded.

"That's blackmail."

"That's life."

As much as I didn't want to, my pussy was getting soaked. And the consequences. I knew Wren stayed true to his promises-unfortunately.

"First, though," he said, looking at my defeated expression, "You need to warm me up."

"Wha-"

Before I knew it, he had guided me to the strip show. I didn't even have time to protest. He shoved me up the stairs, and the coordinator looked me over and nodded. Wren pushed me onto the stage. I stood there, shocked and embarrassed, not sure what to do.

Guys hooted. Girls tittered. "Strip! Strip! Strip!" they all started chanting.

One over-eager guy reached up and tore at my delicate silk dress.

Immediately it ripped-a happy titter went through the crowd below me. Finally, I knew they wanted me to strip-and as much as I hated it, I slowly and seductively pushed one strap of my dress down my smooth shoulder. The crowd hooted. Then I pushed the other one down. Ever so slowly, I lifted my dress to show my wet panties. I saw guys pushing down their pants to masturbate, girls all over them. This was good-the crowd was getting horny.

I slid my dress up over my torso and threw it out into the crowd. A guy caught it, instantly sniffing the part where my wet cunt had been. Now I was just in my bra and lacy panties.

I knew what I was doing was wrong, but it was so fun to watch crowds go gaga over me. The crowd wanted sexy stripping-and I wanted to give them that.

I lay down on the cold floor, spreading my legs wide to the audience. One guy desperately tried to leap up to touch my slit, but security brought him down. I moved my French manicured hand to my panties, rubbing it up and down, moaning. The crowd shouted, encouraging me.

In a seductive voice that didn't sound like me, I asked, "Is there a guy out there that wants to help me pull down my-"

Before I finished, guys stampeded up the steps. They pulled my panties down; I felt a thrill as fingers were jammed in my wet pussy. Somehow a guy got my bra unhooked and hands all over were feeling my breasts, pushing and squeezing. This felt awesome. I was bucking my hips up and down all over the guy's hands, the world drifting away. Suddenly I didn't care if my friends or family saw. I didn't care if I ever got pregnant. I didn't care about anything.

An explosion of cum spurted out of my hungry pussy. One guy knelt down and sucked at my cunt, twirling his tongue in. I groaned, lifting my back up. Somewhere, Wren's handsome head drifted above my face.

"Hey babe," he whispered before going back to eating my pussy. It felt so awesome-the noise, the beer, the horniness of how I felt-my nipples were rock hard, my pussy like a bowl of cum.

Before I knew it, the show was over. The lights dimmed. Woozily I walked off the stage, plucked some bottle of beer off a table, and walked over to Wren, who was leaning against the wall, masturbating. He stroked his hand up and down his sticky cock. It had been so long since I saw his dick-it was so big. Eight inches, I think-before the only sexual thing we did was guide his cock up and down against my pussy. He wanted to ram in and out of me, but then, I didn't let him.

"So it looked like you enjoyed it," he mused.

I nodded, ashamed. I was still naked-though I managed to get my bra and panties back on my body.

"You ready?" He didn't wait for my answer. He pulled me to a back room. I tried to keep up with him, passing the hallways where couples were getting hooked. The music faded away as we went further. I heard grunts, whimpers, growls, moans everywhere.

Finally we stumbled to an empty room. Inside was a simple bed with two pillows, a desk, and a chair.

Like an animal Wren ripped off my bra and panties. He shoved me against the desk, and quickly pulled off his shirt. He groaned, throwing his head back at his enormous erection. He grunted and pushed his dick up my pussy.

It felt like a decorous, hard lightning bolt had been thrown up my vagina. He rammed at eighty miles per hour-so fast and hard I was out of breath.

He wrapped his hands around my chest, finding my boobs, gripping them and squeezing. I felt like putty in his hands-he controlled me. And, weirdly, I wanted him to.

Before long I felt his cock suddenly tense. I wanted him to keep going, so much. The moans and whimpers and grunts that came from my mouth sounded foreign. His cock was the only thing that mattered to me-it rammed in and out of my sticky wet pussy, teaching it a hardcore lesson of breaking up with him.

Ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his penis. It traveled up my pussy. I exhaled. It felt so good...so good...my vision was blurring. All I felt was horny-sex, sex, sex.

Wren grabbed me and shoved me onto the bed. He spread my legs apart and licked my pussy, kissing it as if it were my mouth. I grunted hard. "Faster, faster, faster," I moaned, urging him. He didn't need me to tell him-before long I squirted cum out. I watched dizzily. Words couldn't describe how insanely pleasured I felt-I leaped up, not caring about the cum, and caught his mouth, kissing him.

"The best sex I ever had," I told him, whispering into his ear.

He lay down and grabbed my waist, pulling me onto him. Startled but overjoyed, I complied. His cock intruded my vagina once more. A delighted thrill went up and down my spine.

I started humping him, up and down, the smack sounds of his balls against my ass fading as I threw my head back, closed my eyes. He grunted like a wild animal. I groped his chest, he held my waist to keep me from falling backwards. The pleasure that surged in my body.

Everything faded-the music, the grunts, the room; only Wren, the pleasure. Before long I came again. I fell onto his chest, exhausted. He stroked my hair. "Now that wasn't bad, wasn't it?" he mused. His erection hadn't even gone down an inch. I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. He knew by the way I was stroking his cock, soothing it, tickling his balls.

"Of course, you also need to pay for all those times you refused," he grinned naughtily at me. 

I laughed. "Of course."

And we drifted into delight and pleasure once more.

To be continued...