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“Oh, come on… Don’t give me that look.” Maria tutted, a smirk growing on her face as she leaned against the pole. “I was just kidding.”
Just kidding. James swallowed a lump in his throat, trying hard to stop his eyes from wandering down her body as she stood above him on the stage.
“What is this?” He asked, throwing his hands up in an attempt to show frustration, but knowing deep down that it was a different kind of frustration plaguing him.
He had been in places like this when Mary was sick. One too many times. Few too many drinks.
He barely remembered most of his nights the months before Mary died. He would drink until he was incoherent, and paid for things he would never admit.
And now, Maria was standing up there, her tight fucking body hidden by that short skirt, red coat, and pesky nylons. It was habitual to him, the urge to rip her clothes from her body.
He knew how this normally went, on a regular night. The stripper would notice him, his sulky and quiet exterior so different from the other young, horny men in the place. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and they liked that. They liked that he was broken. Desperate. Willing to do just about anything to get his dick wet.
The stripper would talk to him after her set, then give him some hint that she was more than just a stripper. Sometimes it was a wink and a touch on the arm, or the leg, or if she was bold enough, a hand pulling teasingly at his belt. Or, a note slipped into his coat pocket, or a whisper in the ear.
“Need some company?”
“Meet me in the alley, handsome,”
“Want to see my other talents, baby?”
“For the right price, I’ll show you a good time,”
“I dare you to follow me upstairs.”
And James, too drunk to care, would do whatever she said.
He chewed on the inside of his mouth as Mary stared, placing his hands on a chair in front of him as if trying to create a physical barrier between his aching dick and the temptress on the stage. “Is this the ‘special place’ you meant?”
Maria let go of the pole and straightened up, and James let out a breath of relief.
“Don’t be silly.” She turned, and James couldn’t help but look at her ass. “We just need to go through and out the front.”
As much as James knew he shouldn’t have come with her, and definitely shouldn’t follow her now, he blinked and let go of the chair, making his way around the side of the stage.
But, to his dismay, his eyes landed on the bar, and Maria had a mischievous look in her eye as she walked behind it. “Then again, now that we’re here…”
No, no, no. This town had to be messing with him. It was temptation after temptation and he was becoming less and less determined to resist them. A woman with Mary’s face, something close to Mary’s voice, a bar full of mysteriously nice-looking liquor.
And now Maria was pouring him a glass, and he was sitting down, his body on autopilot. He pushed down the logical questions, like who could have stocked this bar? Was any of this any good? Was any of this fucking real?
He leaned on the bar, the sound of the liquid sloshing in the glass as Maria poured making his mouth water. What was it? Whiskey? Rum? He didn’t care. He only knew he needed to be far away from it, but his body wouldn’t move.
“What are you doing?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He figured if he at least tried to put up a fight, he would be able to stop himself. Or, if there were some otherworldly judgment being cast upon him, they would at least think he tried to put up a fight.
James glanced up at Maria, her tongue darting out to lick her pink lips as she poured the other glass. “Somethin’ to take the edge off.”
Fuck. She slid the glass to him, and he could smell the alcohol now, the richness of it, and he clenched his jaw. He fiddled with his hands on the counter.
He could practically feel the burn of the drink washing down his throat, making his eyes water. He craved the warmth growing in his belly, the fuzzing of his mind. The absolution for his sins. If he was too drunk to control himself, could he be blamed?
Maria picked up her glass and looked at him. She tilted her head as she looked at him, but he could only see it in his peripheral. He had tunnel vision, the glass a quarter full of whatever the fuck it was being the only thing he could really see.
He let in a shallow breath. Maria was waiting.
“No?” She asked, her voice echoing in his mind. James knew she noticed his hesitance, and he froze like a deer in headlights. “You sure?”
She was giving him a way out. He imagined himself shaking his head, standing up, getting as far away from this fucking place as possible.
But deep down, his mind was already made up. He reached forward, grabbing the glass, feeling its weight in his hand.
In a blur, the glass was brought to his lips, and he was tipping it back.
“Thatta boy…” Maria’s voice drifted through his ears, sending chills down his spine as the bitter alcohol entered his mouth, flowing over his tongue. He swallowed it in one gulp, closing his eyes as he felt the burn in his throat and his sinuses, the warmth making its way down his chest, into his stomach. His eyes watered, and the only thing he could think was that he wanted more.
He didn’t know if he had verbally asked for more or if Maria had just read his mind, but there she was, tipping the bottle and pouring him another glass.
And before he could even think it over again, try to scold himself some more, he brought the glass to his lips and took a languid sip.
Just as good as he remembered.
James’s body felt warm again. He took another sip, and then another, and then the glass was empty again, and Maria was making her way around the bar over to where he sat.
“Something wrong?” She asked, her lips pouty, and for a second James thought she was mocking him.
But as he turned on the barstool to face her, she reached forward and her palm found his jaw, cradling it.
James swallowed, his eyes heavy from the little alcohol he had. “I… I don’t know.”
Her eyes bore into him, her face closer to him than it had ever been, and he was suddenly taking in all of her features with an intensity he hadn’t before. She was so much like Mary. Her cupid’s bow curved in the same way, and her eyebrows were downturned as if she had a permanent look of sadness in her eyes. Her eyes… they were blue, contrasting Mary’s brown ones, but everything else about them was still exactly the same, down to the way her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked.
Her thumb stroked his cheek, and James inhaled through his nose, her scent too intoxicating to ignore. Floral, musky perfume, with a hint of whatever alcohol they had just drunk. God, she was warm… or was that him?
“It’s okay,” Maria whispered. He wanted to close his eyes and let himself fall into the false sense of security she providing him. Is that what this place wanted from him? To admit that he was a weak, pathetic man who cheated on his wife while she was dying?
His heart pounded and his body ached .
Her lips were so close to his. If he just leaned forward, he could… “Maria… I can’t.” His words betrayed him as if some robotic, logical side of him needed to voice that he knew he shouldn’t.
But words were only words. He didn’t move.
He stayed where he was, his eyes wandering down to her lips. She was like the alcohol. He could smell it on her breath and he wanted more than anything to taste it.
“Just touch me, James.” She whispered under her breath, and her palm left his face as she reached for his hand.
Before he could even think further, she was putting his hand on her waist, and he was grabbing at the smooth leather of her coat to solidify that she was real.
God, she was real. Too real. Her body moved under his touch, and he could feel her warmth through her clothes. A flesh and blood woman, basically offering herself up to him.
This had to be a sick joke.
She breathed against his lips one more time and he practically whimpered as he leaned in closer, his open mouth brushing hers.
“Maria…” He whispered shakily, one last feeble attempt at stopping this, one sad plea for her to just let this go before it was too late.
But she only pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his lips, breathing into his mouth, and James was gone. He had reached his limit. Crossed the line.
No going back now.
Her smell was the only thing in his mind then, the wet slide of her lips along his own, his heart pounding in his chest and ears as he let her tongue wander at her will.
James hadn’t even realized that his hands were on her, but he was suddenly pulling her waist towards him with so much urgency she grunted into his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair roughly. She was standing in between his knees, her tits pushed against his chest.
He had never wanted to fuck someone more in his life. Not even have sex, make love or any other stupid slang words people loved to use. He wanted to fuck Maria. He needed to stuff his cock into her as deep as he fucking could, have his way with her. Rough, hard, unrelenting. He needed her so much he thought he would explode, and her hand found the rock-hard bulge in his jeans as her lips left his, breathing heavily.
“Come on.” She whispered.
It was all some horny, tipsy blur, but she led James to one of the tables in the club, leaning her ass against it.
Hooking her fingers in his belt, she bit her lip. “How do you want me?”
James swallowed thickly. A gentleman would ask what she wanted. How do you want it? He imagined himself asking that but didn’t like the thought of it. It would waste too much time. Even worse, he didn’t care how she wanted it.
All his convictions had flown out the window. Normally, he was a gentleman. Not today. She would take what she was given. How he wanted to give it to her.
And right now, he really fucking wanted his mouth on her cunt. He needed to see if she tasted like Mary too.
With a strength he didn’t even know he had in him anymore, he hoisted Maria’s body up onto the table, pushing her legs apart with force as a gasp tore from her throat. He didn’t have the words to explain what he wanted. She would have to wait and find out.
James’s palms ran up her thighs, covered with those infuriating nylon tights, preventing him from feeling the true warmth of her flesh. An unbearably thin layer of fabric kept him from her skin, so close, yet so far.
He clenched his jaw, pushing her skirt up, watching her writhe in desperation as she sat there, leaning back, letting him do what he needed to do. She was good like that. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans.
Of course, when he pushed her skirt up high enough, he saw her tacky pink thong through the sheerness of her nylons.
He fought a bemused chuckle, licking his lips. Then, without even looking up at her, he grabbed the seam of the tights at her groin and yanked, tearing them apart with ease.
Maria hummed, pushing her hips closer to the edge of the table. “I knew you had it in you, big guy.”
Finally, he tore his eyes from her body and up to her face, seeing those familiar cheeks flushed pink, her eyes hazy with lust. She knew just what to say to him to get him going. How did that work?
Unable to wait any longer, James lowered himself to his knees.
She drew in a breath as he pushed her thong to the side, eyes landing on her perfect, glistening pussy.
Thumbing her clit, he watched her twitch, nudging herself forward, wet cunt clenching around nothing.
Was it terrible that he didn’t remember what Mary looked like down there? It had been so long since he had seen her, let alone had sex with her like this.
James was in a liminal space between a fading memory of Mary and a thrilling new woman right in front of him, ready for him to take what he wanted. He breathed, eyes ravishing her in a drunken haze, sliding his thumb down to rest at her soaked opening where she fluttered.
“James…” Maria sighed something beautiful, and he felt his cock throb in his jeans at the sound of his name leaving her mouth.
He pressed his thumb into her harder, not enough to push inside, gathering her juices. “Say that again.”
His own voice sounded unfamiliar as he said it, like it was outside of himself, echoing in the darkness of the empty club.
Maria squirmed under his touch. “James…” She obeyed, and her hand was suddenly in his hair, fingers tangling in it. “Please.”
He had forgotten how good it felt to be wanted. Craved . He had missed it.
James’s thumb left her slit but was replaced by his tongue, licking her slowly, languidly, drawing a shiver out of Maria. She was soft, silky even, and his eyes flitted up to watch her throw her head back and draw in a shaky gasp.
“James–”
Fuck. He snarled into her cunt as he let his tongue dive deeper, lapping at her juices like a thirsty dog. She tasted so good. Too good to be true, his senses overloaded with her smell, her beautiful sighs, the slow grind of her hips against his mouth.
He hadn’t done this in a while, but it was coming back to him. Watch her face. Hand on her lower stomach. Feel her twitch, and then you know you’ve hit the right spot. Find a pace, and keep it.
He sucked on her clit gently, circling his tongue around it, her back arching as she cried out. Her hand was tight in his hair, pulling at his scalp, sending a shiver down his spine as he let the pad of his tongue run up her slit again. Maria ground herself on his face, her quiet moans spurring him on.
She tasted like fucking heaven.
It wasn’t long before her legs were trembling and she was slapping a hand over her mouth to keep quiet, her orgasm tearing through her quick and hard. James groaned in satisfaction as she did, her pussy clenching around nothing as he gathered her sweet slick with the tip of his tongue.
James pulled away from her and he noticed how achingly hard he was, his cock practically throbbing in his tight jeans. How long had it been since he had fucked someone? Jerked off, even? He didn’t know.
Maria lay back against the table, her face flushed and her eyes heavy as she looked up at him. Her legs trembled as they now hung limp over the edge. “James, I–”
“Turn over.” He said, more curtly than he had meant to. Her lips curved into a slight frown, but she blinked and shook it off, nodding.
She was here for him. She would do what he told her to.
He barely even knew why he told her to do it. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to do it like… a normal couple. Nothing about this was normal . How was he supposed to fuck her and look her in the eyes like he did with Mary? At least eating her pussy gave him some semblance of control.
She slowly turned over, moving down so her heeled boots rested on the floor below as she stayed bent over the table. Her perfect ass pressed right up against the tent in his jeans, and he fought the urge to grind. He pushed her skirt up higher, over her ass, running his hand up her back and the other one down the back of her thigh.
He swallowed thickly as she pushed her ass against him. Eager . Of course, she was. He only made her come less than a minute ago, and here she was, begging for more. Fucking slut. He couldn’t say he was surprised.
James reached for his belt, his tunnel vision only allowing him to do one thing. He undid the buckle, quickly pulled his pathetically hard dick from his pants, and lined it up with Maria’s –still dripping– hole.
For a second, he savoured that moment. Sliding his cockhead against her soft pussy, making her writhe in desperation. She wanted him so badly, and it made him feel better than he had in a very long time. He thought about asking if she had a condom because he sure didn’t, but he stayed quiet. His mind was too clouded to give a shit about whether or not he fucked her pregnant.
“Please…” She gasped from below him, her hand reaching back to grab at him, to pull him closer.
James felt a thrill shoot through him. “ Please what?”
“I need it…”
“Need what?”
“James…” Her sigh rushed into his head and for a second there was a flash of Mary, her helpless, begging voice, calling out his name.
“Say it.”
“Fuck me, James.” She whined, grinding herself back against his sensitive cock.
It felt so fucking good to be wanted.
James pushed into her sopping wet cunt, his hand slamming down on the table beside her waist to prop himself up, her warmth enveloping him.
That was when his brain really went into overdrive. He began to fuck her, hard, his hips shoving her into the table, knocking the wind from her lungs. His fingers dug into her hip, holding her there, losing himself in the way she fluttered and clenched and gushed around him.
Like the alcohol burning down his throat, fucking was just as good as he remembered.
Maria was crying out in what he hoped was pleasure, but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really care. She felt too fucking good to stop, and he was embarrassingly close already.
“Fuck…” He grunted shakily, his abs burning from how hard he was pounding into her, but he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
It was like every thrust wasn’t deep enough, his cock grinding into her so hard and fast as he chased some imaginary high, he needed more and more and more but he was completely bottomed out, probably abusing her poor cervix at this angle.
James could hear himself mumbling something incoherent, whether it was Mary’s name spilling from his lips or Maria’s, he wasn’t quite sure. But he needed to come so fucking badly, he was practically running on fumes.
If it weren’t for pure adrenaline and Maria’s perfectly tight cunt around him like a vice, he definitely would have passed out.
But he finally came, hard, doubling over as he shot his load deep inside Maria, rutting into her like a wild animal. Pathetic groans and whimpers tore from his throat through gritted teeth, and he hoped they were just in his head. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his face as her fluttering walls milked him, her body trembling.
Eventually, dazed and tired, James pulled out of her, suddenly the urge to distance himself taking over. Maria sighed from below him, her fingers gripping the edge of the table as she moved her hips, most likely sore from his relentless fucking.
He swallowed, his breaths quick and heavy, pushing himself off of the table and tucking himself back into his pants. He let out a deep breath through his mouth and ran a hand through his hair, turning away from Maria, unable to look at how she was splayed out, her skirt pushed up and her tights ripped, underwear pushed aside and his come leaking from her slit.
What had he done?