Chapter 1

As the night grew wilder and the music louder, the nite club’s patrons grew bolder in their glances. A smirk tugged at the corners of John’s mouth as he noticed the hungry stares cast in their direction. He leaned back in the booth, casually propping one leg up on the seat beside her, ensuring her legs remained wide apart. The leather stuck to his skin, a reminder of the sultry heat that filled the room. The strobe lights painted the scene in fleeting snapshots of colour, illuminating her bare cunt in brief, tantalizing flashes.

John’s hand slithered up her thigh, his fingertips dancing along the edge of her skirt. The fabric was damp with the sticky residue of the club’s atmosphere and the wetness from her crotch. His thumb brushed against her clit, eliciting a soft gasp from her parted lips. She stirred slightly but remained in her drug-induced slumber, her body pliant and ready for his manipulation. He felt his cock stiffen in his pants, eager to join the show but knowing he had to wait.

An old wrinkled guy stopped and looked at the spread open wet cunt asking if he could touch it. John’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He wasn’t expecting this, but a sadistic smile grew on his face as he considered the possibilities. He nodded, watching the man’s trembling hands reach out with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

The old man leaned in, his hot, alcohol-laden breath wafting over her exposed skin. His eyes were like saucers, transfixed by the glistening pink flesh laid bare before him. He touched her lightly at first, his fingertips barely grazing her labia, as if afraid she might wake and bite.

John’s hand tightened around her thigh, his grip firm, as he watched the old man’s trembling hand dip lower. The leather of the booth squeaked as he leaned back, enjoying the sight of the stranger’s grimy digits disappearing into her folds. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, even through her clothing. It was a heady power, controlling her in such a vulnerable state, and watching others crave what was his to give.

The old man’s touch grew bolder, his thumb circling her clit with surprising finesse. John felt a twitch of jealousy but pushed it aside. He had bigger plans for her, and this was just the opening act. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, his breath hot and sticky, “Looks like you’ve got an admirer, baby.”

Her eyes remained closed, but a small moan escaped her lips, a moan that grew louder as the old man’s fingers moved faster, more confidently. The smell of her arousal filled the small space, mixing with the stale air of the nite club and the faint scent of the downers John had fed her.

John’s own breathing grew ragged as he watched the scene unfold. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the screen casting a cold, blue light onto his face. He snapped a few pictures, capturing the moment for posterity, for later use, for his own twisted satisfaction. He knew he couldn’t let this go on for too long, not without taking things further.

The old man’s breathing grew heavier, his eyes glazed over as he slid a finger inside her. She was tight, tighter than John had ever felt her, and it made his cock ache. He knew she was on the edge, could feel her muscles clench around the intruder’s digit. But before the crescendo could reach its peak, John placed a firm hand on the man’s wrist. “That’s enough for now,” he said with a chuckle, his voice a dark rumble in the cacophony of the club.

The old man’s eyes snapped to John’s, a look of desperation crossing his face. He nodded, reluctantly withdrawing his hand. John patted his shoulder, and said “You must have a raging hard on “? The wrinkled old drunk replied. “I have the hardest cock for years, can i really fuck her”? “Yes fuck her and cum in her too”.

The old man, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal as he had the thrill of knowing what he had in store for her. He dropped his filthy frayed trousers as his long, thick veined, gnarled cock sprang up. He stroked it a few times and shoved the huge mushroom headed cock into the wet cunt before him.

John leaned back, his hand still on her thigh, and took another sip of his drink, watching with a detached amusement as the old man began to fuck her with the vigour of a teenager. He could feel her body tense and release beneath his grip, a silent symphony of forced pleasure. Her moans grew louder, and John knew she was close to climax.

He glanced around the club, noting the faces that had turned in their direction, the whispers and the smiles. The power he wielded in this moment was intoxicating. He was the puppet master, orchestrating a scene that would play out in his fantasies for weeks to come.

But the show wasn’t over yet. He had one more trick up his sleeve. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear, and whispered, “You’re going to love this, baby,” as he reached down and began to play with her clit, matching the rhythm of the old man’s thrusts.