Disclaimer: it's never okay to assault or rape someone, and someone who is drunk cannot consent. This is just a fantasy. Nobody actually wants this to happen to them in real life.
*****
"I don't care if you fuck every cock in this club," Jeff said, not even looking at his girlfriend of two years as he threw back his fourth shot of tequila. "I'm not jealous."
"Oh, because, it sure seemed like you were jealous when that guy was talking to me, after you came back from the bathroom," Chelsea pointed out, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder. "And that time at the movie theater -"
"Nah," Jeff interrupted. "I mean, you're a beautiful woman with amazing tits. Of course guys are going to be interested in you. As long as I'm the guy you go home with at the end of the night, I could care less."
Chelsea glared at him and hiked up her yellow V-neck sundress to hide at least some of her cleavage. She had been a busty girl since grade school and was self-conscious about it even now, at 22 years old. She didn't need it pointed out in such a crude way, and certainly not by the man who claimed to love her - the only man with whom she'd ever made love.
"Fine, you're not jealous at all," she challenged. "Then you won't mind if I go dance with that guy who was talking to me earlier."
Jeff flinched, but then shrugged. "Another round," he suggested to the bartender, a tall, 50-something man with thick gray hair and a professional manner, who had probably seen it all.
"Of course," he replied, setting out two glasses and winking at Chelsea. She smiled back automatically, her anger at Jeff subsiding somewhat. The bartender seemed nice.
She quickly downed her shot - her third of the night, and she wasn't normally much of a drinker. She flipped her hair back again, and turned to the dance floor.
The small nightclub was alive with thumping music and pulsating bodies, but she had no trouble spotting the good-looking Latino man, Xavier, who had been hitting on her earlier. He nodded and grinned at her from across the floor, and she made her way over, returning his smile.
"So you ditching that jealous asshole?" he asked as he took both her hands and began to salsa with her. Chelsea loved to dance, but Jeff hated it, so she hadn't had many opportunities lately.
She rolled her eyes in reply, and changed the subject. "Hey, you're a great dancer!"
"I'm great at some other things too," he grinned.
"I'll bet you are," she laughed. And why not? If Jeff didn't care about her flirting, she might as well have fun.
The floor was crowded and they were soon pushed up together, sandwiched between other sweaty people - too close for any real dance moves. All they could really do was grind and bounce to the music. Xavier put his arms comfortably around her slim waist, and they moved together.
Looking around, Chelsea noticed with some hesitation that most of the people around them, pushing them into each other, were large, older men. But the Tequila was starting to hit her and Xavier's big hands felt nice, pushing her down onto his leg that she was straddling between hers. The music was intense, and she felt her juices begin to dampen the crotch of her panties. She hoped he wouldn't notice since he was wearing jeans, or maybe if he did notice, he would think it was just sweat. Certainly there was plenty of that all around them. She wondered if the place was even air-conditioned, it was so hot.
It wasn't long before there was another man behind her, grinding into her round ass. She started to feel nervous, but out of seemingly nowhere, a shot appeared in her hand. She downed it not even knowing what it was, and the fiery whiskey made her gasp. She barely noticed that the man behind her had taken the opportunity to put his arms around her and grab her breasts with both hands.
"Hey," she sputtered through the burning. The hands disappeared, and the dancing continued, and Xavier handed her a cup of beer.
"I think I was just sexually assaulted," she laughed to Xavier, gulping the beer to ease the whiskey burn.
"Yeah? Did you like it?" he grinned.
She considered for a moment, unsure. It had been kind of a turn-on. But then she took another gulp and forgot the question as they continued to bump and grind.
She could tell Xavier had a pretty huge hard-on, from the bulge in his jeans. She brushed her hand over it playfully, and he turned her around and ground it into her ass. Another man - or was it the same one who had groped her, before? She couldn't tell - appeared in front of her and sandwiched her in again. But she kept dancing, and glanced from time to time over to the bar, where Jeff seemed to be paying no attention and instead talking to the bartender.
"He doesn't deserve you," Xavier said, noticing her gaze. "If I had a hot girlfriend like you, I would be fucking her right now."
"Is that right?" Chelsea felt her cheeks redden, and her pussy throb, at the suggestion. "What would you do to me if I was your girlfriend?"
"Ahhhh," he sighed heavily, running his hand under her dress, up her thigh, from his position behind her. "I would bend you over right here and have my way with you." His hand found her wet panties and brushed gently against her pussy.
She moaned softly. He heard her. And before she knew what was happening, his fingers were inside her panties, rubbing her clit.
She looked around nervously, but no one in the packed club seemed to be paying any attention to them - least of all Jeff, still throwing back his shots at the bar, getting completely trashed.
"I'm not okay with that," she said anyway, her words slurring slightly as she tried to move away from Xavier. "I have a boyfriend."
"And what a boyfriend," he laughed, but let her get just enough distance to relax as they kept dancing.
