Stranger in the club bathroom #4

The banging on the door rattled through the tiny bathroom like thunder, each heavy fist making my heart slam against my ribs.

“Open the fuck up! I know someone’s in there, you assholes!” The voice was pissed, male, slurred with whatever he’d been drinking all night. My pussy clenched hard around the thick cock still buried deep inside me, the sudden spike of fear twisting into something filthy and electric that made my walls flutter and drip even more.

He didn’t stop. If anything, the stranger... my stranger, tightened his grip on my hip and drove into me harder, the wet slap of his hips meeting my ass cutting through the muffled bass from the club outside. His hand stayed clamped firmly over my mouth, fingers pressing just enough to muffle my whimpers while his other hand kept me pinned exactly where he wanted me, bent over the sink, dress rucked up, legs spread like a desperate slut who’d lost all sense of shame.

“Shhh, baby girl,” he growled low and rough against my ear, his breath hot, voice dripping with that dark, commanding edge that made my insides melt. “Let that drunk fucker wait. Daddy’s not pulling out of this greedy little hole until I’ve wrecked it properly. You hear me?”

I nodded frantically, eyes wide in the mirror, my reflection staring back at me, flushed cheeks, smeared lipstick, hair a wild mess from his fist. Another sharp thrust punched the air out of me, his fat cock dragging along every sensitive ridge inside my freshly-fucked pussy.

The knocking came again, louder, angrier, then... nothing. Silence. Maybe the guy gave up. Maybe he went to find another bathroom. I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the way this man I didn’t even know was owning me, stretching me open, turning my heartbreak into pure, dripping need.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest into my back. “Good girl. Now keep that pretty mouth quiet while I fuck you senseless.”

He pulled out slowly, torturously, until just the swollen head teased my entrance, then slammed back in so deep my toes curled off the tile floor. I bit back a moan, but it slipped out anyway, low and broken. He spun me sideways without warning, lifting one of my legs and hooking it over the edge of the sink counter. The new angle let him slide in even deeper, the head of his cock kissing my cervix with every powerful thrust.

My hands scrambled for purchase on the cool porcelain as he railed me like that, one hand gripping my thigh to keep me open, the other sliding between my legs to torture my swollen clit with firm, relentless circles.

“Fuck... look at you taking it sideways like a good little whore.” he groaned, his voice all gravel and smoke. “This tight pussy’s sucking me in, creaming all over my dick. You feel that? How sloppy you’re getting for me?”

His hips snapped forward harder, the wet squelching sounds obscene in the small space. Every thrust made my tits bounce under the thin fabric of my dress, nipples hard and aching. I was panting, sweat slicking my skin, lost in the burn and the stretch and the overwhelming fullness.

“Yes... oh God, it’s so deep like this,” I whimpered, my voice shaky. “Don’t stop... please, I need more.”

He grinned against my neck, biting down just enough to leave a mark. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? Came straight to a real man who knows how to handle this pretty cunt.”

He shifted again, pulling out completely and making me whine at the empty ache. Then he lifted me like I weighed nothing, turning me fully and setting my ass on the edge of the sink. He hooked both my legs over his broad shoulders, folding me practically in half.

The first thrust in this position punched a loud cry out of me. He was so deep, deeper than before, grinding against that spot that made sparks explode behind my eyes. “There we go,” he grunted, starting a brutal rhythm that had the sink squeaking under us. “Legs up like a proper fuck-toy. Feel Daddy rearranging your insides, sweetheart? This pussy’s never gonna be the same.”

Skin slapped against skin, loud and rhythmic. My juices coated his shaft, dripping down to his balls as he pounded into me. I could see us in the mirror... his powerful body driving into mine, muscles flexing, my face twisted in ecstasy, mouth open in silent screams of pleasure. He reached down and rubbed my clit fast, his thumb slick with my wetness.

“Gonna cum again for me?” he demanded, voice thick. “Let me feel this sloppy cunt squeeze my cock. Come on, princess... milk it.”

The pressure built fast and vicious. My thighs trembled against his shoulders, walls fluttering wildly around his thick length. “I’m... I’m cumming, fuck!”

The orgasm crashed over me like a wave, ripping through my body so hard my vision whited out. I gushed around him, soaking his pelvis, my moans muffled against his shoulder as I shook uncontrollably.

He didn’t slow down. If anything, he fucked me through it, chasing his own release with deep, punishing strokes that prolonged my high until I was a whimpering, oversensitive mess.

“That’s my good girl. So fucking pretty when you fall apart on my cock.”

Finally, he pulled out, his cock glistening with my cream, veins pulsing angrily. He helped me down onto shaky legs, then guided me to my knees on the cool tile floor right in front of him.

“Open that mouth, babygirl. Tongue out. Daddy’s gonna paint you.”

I obeyed instantly, looking up at him with hazy, fucked-out eyes as I parted my lips and stuck my tongue out like an eager little cumslut. He stroked his slick cock fast, groaning low and primal, muscles tensing.

“Fuck yes... here it comes!”

Thick ropes of hot cum erupted from him, landing across my tongue, my lips, splattering my cheeks and dripping down onto my exposed breasts. He kept pumping, milking every drop, groaning deep in his chest as the last spurts landed on my tits. I swallowed what landed in my mouth, savoring the salty taste, then licked my lips clean while he watched with dark, satisfied eyes.

“Damn, you look good covered in my seed,” he murmured, voice rough with afterglow. He tucked himself back into his pants, then reached down and helped me up gently, surprisingly tender after how rough he’d been.

I steadied myself against the sink, legs still trembling, cum cooling on my skin.

“Thank you... for fucking me, Daddy,” I whispered, voice hoarse. “I needed that more than I realized.”

He smirked, that confident, trouble-making grin that had drawn me in earlier. One big hand cupped my chin, tilting my face up so our eyes met.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Any time you need this dick to remind you what a real man feels like, you know where to find me.” He slipped a small black card into my hand... simple, with just a number and the initial “R” embossed on it.

We dressed quickly in the charged silence, me wiping myself clean with some paper towels, adjusting my dress, trying to look like I hadn’t just been railed within an inch of my life. He unlocked the door and stepped out first, giving me one last heated look over his shoulder before disappearing into the pulsing crowd of the club.

I stayed there a moment longer, staring at the card in my hand. My body ached in the most delicious ways, pussy sore and still leaking a little of his cum, ass marked from his palms, throat raw from moaning. The heartbreak that had driven me here felt distant now, replaced by this raw, addictive thrill.

He’d made me feel wanted.

Desired. Alive in a way I didn't think was possible.

I slipped the card into my bra, right against my still-sensitive skin, and smiled to myself in the mirror. I’d definitely be calling him. I wasn’t sure when... tomorrow? next week? when the ache got too strong again?

But time would tell. And when I did... I had a feeling “R” would be ready to ruin me all over again.