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| Girls' Nightmare Out | Back to N | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
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Girls' Nightmare Out
Rogue Alan
11/0-9/02, revision 2/03
(tattoo/piercing; cheat; stranger; interracial; gang bang; exhibitionism; anal;
prostitution; bondage; lesbianism; mind control; rape)
Part 15
Jeff and the boys were still out at the boys' soccer games. Melissa fixed
herself a stiff Long Island Iced Tea, letting the drink eat away at the
tensions left by whoring that morning, and putting out so sluttishly that
afternoon. After the second, the guilt she still felt at her relationship with
Kathy had eased, as had the nagging voice that something was amiss. She was
well on her way to being blind drunk by the time the rest of the family
returned home.
Frightened of being seen that way, she staggered into the bathroom, stepping
into an ice cold shower that was still pounding down on her muddled head when
Jeff poked his head into the bathroom. He sounded relieved when he found her
'getting ready' as he termed it. Melissa struggled to come up with an answer
to what he'd meant. Then it registered, the art auction at the local mall.
She glanced at the clock on the sink by the shower, they had forty minutes.
She climbed out of the shower, still dripping wet, and began to consider make-
up and accessories, pausing long enough to take a healthy hit from the open
bottle of Vodka in her vanity. She felt in control, as they pulled into the
garage parking lot at the mall, just enough buzz to put up with the horrible
things that she'd been doing hours before, and the banal conversation that
would ensue within.
The shops were open inside, but the usual crowd was gone, and in its place,
wandered women in plunging back glittering dresses, on the arms of men in
tuxedos, both off the rack and custom tailored styles. No overwhelming opulence,
but certainly more of an air than Melissa enjoyed in the best of circumstances.
Waiters with plastic champagne flutes moved through the crowd of people
speaking politely to one another, while searching for a victim upon which to
pounce. Melissa quickly grabbed a glass from a passing tray, sampling the
bubbling alcohol, and smiling automatically, as Jeff moved through the crowd,
introducing her to several of the people with whom he did business. A second
and third glass disappeared in the next half hour, without Jeff or anyone
seeming to notice. She felt loose behind the pasted on smile. As she mouthed
niceties and greeted passers by and hangers on alike, she couldn't help but to
compare what she was doing, with what she did for Tom, at neither time was
she really herself.
She'd been skirting the knots of people, saying an intermittent hello or
grinning at a 'remembered' joke, but trying to avoid any prolonged discussion.
"Appetizer, ma'am?" a young man asked, stepping up in front of her suddenly.
She stopped and blinked, trying to focus on the face that was suddenly so
close. She shook her head, and the waiter moved on. She blinked again, dimly
aware that she'd noticed something right before their near collision. Maybe
that last drink had been a bit too much.
She stood unmoving, trying to keep the faces moving past her in focus. Jeff
was nowhere nearby. She took a halting step, expecting to crash into another
platter wielding waiter. There was none. Three more steps brought her to the
nearest wall. She put it to her back, and resolved to return to the car.
Except that it was a struggle to remember where they'd come in, or where they'd
walked after they'd entered. Had they gone up any stairs? She saw a nearby
wrought iron bench, and moved to sit down, trying to remain calm, and blink
away whatever was wrong with her eyes.
Jeff found her minutes later, concern was evident in his voice, as he asked if
she was all right. She gave an embarrassed laugh, explaining that she hadn't
eaten much during the day, and had made the mistake of downing 'a couple'
glasses of the bubbly, which had left her 'tipsy'. Even in the time she'd been
sitting her vision had improved noticeably, though changing focus from near to
far or back remained difficult. Jeff apologized profusely, blaming himself for
keeping her too busy to eat, and suggested that they drive downtown to the
plaza for a nice dinner. Melissa nodded gratefully, clutching at her husband's
arm as they meandered through the various displays and exhibits.
Jeff paused a few times, checking bids on the silent auction items, making a
counter here or there. Glancing up at a shouted word, he waved to someone
across the room, prompting Melissa to refocus to the distance. It was in that
moment that she knew what she'd been feeling before, a sense of being watched.
Standing behind the man that she and Jeff were approaching was a large black
waiter.
The man's eyes never left her, as she tried to match the eerily familiar face
to a name. The man certainly hadn't been around her work, the catering was too
high class for the occasional educator luncheon or dinner meeting. She doubted
that he was a fellow teacher, and was sure that she would remember if they had
been at many meetings together. It was strange that he seemed so focused on
her, and then she had a horrible thought, he could have easily been inside of
her without her even seeing his face.
Her sudden realization must have been plain on her face, as to her dismay, the
waiter broke out in a huge grin. His eyes cut to Jeff, and he pursed his lips,
then shook his head. He winked at her, moving a hand from his side to his
crotch suggestively. Melissa blushed fiercely, scared that she didn't even
remember him, and terrified that she suddenly would.
Her body felt suddenly numb, as she had come to associate with the time that
she spent on her back, humping her sex against whatever John was fucking her.
A wave of nausea crested at the awareness that she was becoming aroused, not
understanding the connection her body made between that feeling and the
expected sexual performance to follow, wondering how she could react so
strongly to a man whose casual use of her body was lost to conscious thought.
She turned away, praying Jeff hadn't noticed anything and that the man wouldn't
make a scene. She grabbed another drink from a passing tray, downing it in
three gulping swallows, that Jeff never noticed, as he laughed with his
colleague or customer. She set the empty glass on a nearby auction table with
a shaking hand. The prickling warmth between her legs didn't abate. Worse, she
felt her nipples getting stiff, and prayed it wasn't visible through her dress.
When she looked up, already feeling the return of some difficulty focusing her
eyes, the waiter was no longer standing by the wall. She breathed a sigh of
relief, until she felt a presence behind her. She bit her lip, as a tuxedoed
arm reached around her to pick up the fluted glass.
"Allow me to get that, ma'am. Is there anything else that I can give you?"
Jeff paused in his discussion, and turned as Melissa tried not to blush or
faint or gasp or react in any way.
"N, no," she stammered, cursing the way her body seemed hungry for his touch.
"I've already had too much."
"I see."
She wanted to scream at the man's tone of voice, she was sure that Jeff would
know. The man offered an almost leer, as he said, "My apologies, I just
wondered if you wanted a... bigger serving than you have."
"No thanks." Jeff answered for her, patting her hand. "She's already over her
limit. I'm going to have to take her home now, if I want any chance to enjoy
this evening fully."
"I'm sure that you'll have a wonderful evening, sir. Please excuse me." and
then he was gone.
Melissa heaved a quiet sigh of relief, but couldn't relax after the encounter,
to meet a man that she'd serviced, with her husband standing beside her, to
feel her body responding with a lust that she almost couldn't control and
feared that she wouldn't be able to hide it the next time. She needed to speak
to Tom. She wondered if he would agree to arrange for her to do her 'work' on
the other side of the river, or in one of the smaller neighboring cities.
That thought increased her anxiety, as she guessed she'd be 'working' for him
even longer than she'd grown to expect, if he did agree. But she had to make
sure that Jeff never ran into someone else who 'knew' her so intimately. She
shuddered, imagining if the man had been less discreet, she wondered how she'd
have reacted, if he'd demanded something else for his silence. She wished she'd
taken the man's offer for another drink, and was still shaking when they got
to Jeff's Blazer. He offered her his coat, which she took gratefully, hoping
to at the least hide her body's persistent reaction to the chance encounter.
At the Dwyer household, Fred had been in an unusually horny mood, and Kathy
had found herself lying in their bed, with her legs spread, as her husband
thrust into her, in short jabbing strokes, no real rhythm, she considered
analytically, his breath gusting over her, rank with the odor of his pipe. She
bit her lip in frustration, angry that he hadn't bothered with foreplay though
that was nothing new, and surprised at how unaroused she was, even as he neared
his own climax, usually she'd be sufficiently excited that she'd be able to
quickly finish herself off in the bathroom, when he'd finally rolled off of
her.
For a long moment, she was consciously glad that she'd been tricking that
morning, at least she'd gotten to cum with Tom's friend Michael. In the next
minute she was ashamed at thinking in that way, even though thinking of Michael
had triggered a rush of excitement. That disappeared quickly though, as she
thrust such thoughts from her mind, trying to quietly endure the friction of
her husband's penis pushing in and out.
She breathed a sigh of relief when he came a moment later, and pulled out,
leaving his still leaking penis against her thigh. Wincing, Kathy rose, barely
disturbing her husband, and padded into the bathroom. She cleaned herself off,
then ran a hot bath, luxuriating in the swirling water as she let her mind go.
To her mingled fear and undeniable arousal, though, her thoughts soon focused
on the afternoon's experience, and more importantly, the man she'd been with.
Sex with Michael had been like nothing she'd ever known, good enough that
being Tom's whore suddenly seemed, tolerable, so long as she saw Michael again.
After masturbating to a satisfying, if incomplete orgasm, Kathy dried off
before she climbed into bed, beside her snoring husband. She drifted off to
sleep, wondering when Tom would call again, almost anxious to work, in the
hope of seeing Michael again.
At dinner, Melissa found she remained intolerably jumpy, the near crisis at
the party serving as a thorough buzz killer. She agreed to Jeff's suggestion
of a bottle of wine, and had enjoyed three glasses before their salads were
finished. Jeff ordered a second bottle for the main course, without so much as
a thought that his first glass was still unfinished. Despite the booze, Melissa
found herself eyeing every man who passed their table, worried that someone
else would recognize her from her 'moonlighting'. She was more than tipsy by
dinner's end, giggling at Jeff's interactions with an obviously gay waiter
who'd hit on her husband throughout their meal, without giving her a second
glance.
Chastened by the knowledge that she'd been a willing whore to Tom that
afternoon, she pressed herself against her husband, enjoying their time
together, and pleased to find that even half pickled, she was aroused and
could respond to the man that she'd married, as they left the restaurant for
their car. The paranoia of earlier eased enough that she almost missed the
knowing look of the night guard, strolling through the parking garage.
Maybe it was the change in the cadence of his walk, but Melissa looked up and
over at him as they passed, her breath catching at the half memory of the same
man leaning over her, puffing and grunting as he thrust a better than average
sized cock into her twitching box. She blushed, aware that this stranger was
one of those who'd been skilled enough, or concerned enough about her pleasure,
that she'd cum with him. Her focus narrowed to her body, which responded more
explosively than it had earlier in the rushing onset of arousal.
She blinked, acutely aware that some part of her was almost anxious to lie
back on the asphalt and let this stranger take her again. Before she could
look away, or somehow speed their course to the car, Jeff glanced over to see
what had distracted her. The guard nodded politely.
"Evening folks." he said and Jeff responded in kind, as the man smiled.
"Your wife?"
"As a matter of fact, she is." Jeff said almost arrogantly. "Thought I'd take
her out on the town and show her how much I love her."
"She's an amazing lady." the guard offered, as he sauntered past. "You two
have a safe trip home, now."
Melissa was still trying to reassure herself that the man had said 'amazing
lady' and not 'amazing lay' without considering the suggested intimacy of his
comment when Jeff chuckled.
"Perceptive man. I'll bet the cars here are safer than anywhere else in the
city."
Melissa forced a laugh with him, hoping Jeff didn't notice, and desperately
relieved that her husband hadn't become suspicious at the man's attitude.
Safely inside the SUV, Melissa was dismayed when Jeff wanted to neck, before
leaving.
"The guard!" she scolded, pushing him away. "Like you said, he's very alert.
I'm embarrassed." Jeff paused, then smiled.
"All right. I guess I can always pull over somewhere on the way home. It'll be
more exciting that way lover."
Melissa tried to smile at him, all the while resolving not to go back into the
city with him until long after she'd repaid what Tom claimed she 'owed'. If
ever. Seeing a former John once had been too close for comfort, twice was
almost enough to prompt an emergency call to Tom, even if it did increase her
'debt'.
She shivered, wondering if she would ever feel safe in public with her husband
again. She jumped when Jeff's hand moved to her inner thigh, and he chuckled,
teasing that she was 'too tense' and promising that he had 'just the medicine
for that'. She nodded, smiling weakly, already thinking about where she could
get a hit of something before Jeff expected her to perform.
