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It should feel good.
It should feel fucking incredible.
But her voice is grating on my nerves, on my goddamned brain. It’s sinking in, deeper and deeper, ruining the tiny tendril of blissful peace I’d finally managed to find.
With every cry and whimper, my soul aches. It reminds me that this, the girl, the place, my life—it’s all fucking wrong.
Ignoring my previous demand, she releases her thong, letting the string slap the side of my balls as she blindly searches for something to grip onto. I grit my teeth at the sharp bite of pain, but let it ground me, bringing me back to the present. Her claws dig into my thigh, just below my ass, like she’s trying to encourage me to fuck harder.
So I do.
But my cock’s so damn numb, I’m not even sure it’s still attached to my body. She rolls her hips and moans loudly, uncaring of the huge crowd gathered below and watching her performance. I’m pretty sure she likes it.
I don’t, but I also wasn’t thinking when I agreed to fuck her.
She swivels her body again, tipping her head back like she loves the rough way I’m tugging on her hair. At this point, I’m surprised her spine hasn’t snapped.
Flashes go off, and she moans louder. These assholes are taking pictures? Videos? Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, trying to drown her and the crowd out and just focus on the tight friction of her sloppy cunt. But with every fake scream, every practiced and perfected moan, I find my cock getting softer and softer until my hard-on is gone.
God fucking dammit.
The blonde cries out, “Yes, baby. Your cock is so hard in my pussy.”
At that moment, it all makes sense.
Motherfucking lying, manipulative cunt.
She’s putting on a show for the cameras. She’s probably the one that set it all up to begin with. No doubt she wanted a way in with the infamous social media star; my goddamned best friend.
I pull out of her, yanking the condom off and tossing it over the ledge, not caring if it lands on some asshole. Better the condom than the lying bitch still panting and whimpering before me. She blinks rapidly, slipping away from the railing. It’s then I notice her top’s pulled down, her heavy, fake tits fully on display.
Jesus fucking Christ. How did I miss this?
My zipper’s not even halfway up before her bullshit begins.
“I can suck it till it comes back,” she whines as she whirls on me.
I shoot her a menacing glare the second she drops to her knees in front of me again, her dress still fucked up and around her narrow hips. She reaches for my depressingly flaccid cock, yanking my zipper back down.
“Don’t touch me,” I snarl, batting her hands away.
She ignores me as her hands find their way back to my jeans. We play a ridiculous game of keep-away with my dick that quickly turns into a painful rendition of whack-a-mole when she inadvertently smacks my balls, though something tells me it’s intentional.
“Get the fuck away!” I bellow, the force of my anger shocking her back onto her ass. Her green eyes are wide as she stares up at me, her lips parted.
Green. Not blue.
Green. Not blue.
“But—but—”
I don’t let her get another word out before I shove my cock back into my jeans, and head for the stairs, stomping down them with enough force to shake the entire platform.
“You prick!” she cries, sounding petulant as fuck. Partygoers cheer me on, further pissing me off. “Your dick’s not even as big as the rumors said!”
This.
