All characters in this story are 18 or older, and the author does not in any way condone non-consensual sex. This story is fiction and contains, rough anal, pain, humiliation and degradation, and rough oral; if you don't like these themes, please do not read or rate it. This work is purely fantasy, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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The cheers and whistles died down to the dull roar of the noisy bar as I slid my shirt back over my bare stomach. I don't shy away from attention, and surrounded by young single women was no exception. The bar table I stood adjacent to was currently holding the ladies' drinks and purses I had shown my abs to, the closest of whom was still trying to touch my well-defined muscles through my shirt.
"Very nice!" They giggled amongst themselves as I playfully swatted the adventurous hands away and took another swig of my Red Bull. My rigorous workout schedule that I'd adopted early on in college had chiseled my frame into something that a lot of women, both young and old, seemed to be drawn towards. I wasn't so huge that they knew they'd be taking a backseat to the gym, but there didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on me and my proportions filled clothes perfectly.
The bar was a popular one, attracting a lot of the local college crowd with their large dance floor and occasionally good music, and having the lion's share of young college girls usually meant everyone else wanted to be there. I was something of a regular, in search of respite from my graduate coursework and the desire to satisfy my carnal needs. Picking up random girls and the occasional classmate at the bar was also a great way to readily explore my newfound sexuality and boundaries. Tonight, those boundaries were vying on the rougher side, my carnal side desiring a tight asshole to absolutely lay waste to, but with some mental torture to accompany it. So far, this evening was on the right track and I'd be heading back to my apartment with my quarry in under an hour. Of the 5 ladies oohing and ah-ing over my abs, a petite number named Amy could do the trick, but they were all tempting candidates. Amy was the "hot one" and she played it well, her tight dancer body clad scantily in a miniskirt and belly shirt.
I didn't miss that one of the girls had scoffed at my display and was now glaring daggers across the small table at me. Her tight grey skirt and button up shirt gave off a sense of control, but her stockings and heels belied a confidant, wilder side. I had met girls like her before, sharper than their peers but sometimes a bit controlling, resulting in them occasionally getting labelled as no fun by their own friends. If we were lucky, we might see just how controlling this one was; she clearly was the "leader" of the group; her attractiveness, confidence and wit seemed to keep her even ahead of Amy in their group hierarchy.
"What did you say your name was, again?" I casually asked across the table, ignoring Amy and the other girls who kept pawing at my shirt.
"I didn't give it," she stated flatly and looked away from me, sparking up conversation with one of the girls, Jessica, I think.
"Wow, rude," I laughed and turned my own attention to the girls closest to me, Amy and Katherine, "What's she got up her butt?"
"Excuse me?!" She immediately retorted and her eyes flashed at me.
"She's just got a lot of walls, Marcus," Amy interjected hastily, trying to dispel the ice in the air between us.
"No, I'm just not as dumb as a lot of women out there," the ice queen spat out like venom, "This guy is a dime a dozen, preying on women at bars with stupid pickup artist lines and their Abercrombie bodies. Let me guess, you're going to have to start 'negging' me?"
I laughed again, my mind rapidly slicing through the options for the evening and how they might play out. Given her extremely protective stance she was adopting on her part of friends, I might be able to have more fun than anticipated. Sex dominated by physical sensation was good, sex injected with some mental and emotional sensation could be great, I had discovered.
"I don't know what you have against me, Ice Queen, but considering you only know my name and that I don't mind female attention in the first few minutes I've been here, you seem to have made quite the series of jumps to put me in a box you had ready for me since I walked up," I let the statement hang in the air, my dry tone not indicating hurt, but seriousness.
"Wow, Madison, he's kind of right, you know!" Katherine piped up, her eyes glancing nervously at Madison, "Marcus hasn't even been slimy or nothing, and you're already trying to drive him away! Not even a grope like some of them!"
Madison seemed caught off guard by my return and failure to back down or leave, and sputtered out a half-assed apology, "I- I'm sorry Marcus... there are just a lot of shitty guys out there and your... brazenness led me to think you were like them."
"Oh, I could be like them! Hell—I might even be worst!" I said cheekily, the truth sliding right past my target, or should I say, targets. Lifting up my shirt again and flexing my hips like a stripper, I pantomimed out some lewd activities. Four of the girls shrieked wildly and acted like they were tossing money on me, while the fifth retained a cold glare as she watched her gang invite me to their evening.
A few minutes later, I had found a booth for us all to fit in, and we congregated across the bar to chat more intimately as the alcohol kicked in. They were all in their second year of school but had become fast friends during their first year living in the dorms. Amy was pre-med but was struggling due to her commitment to the dance team. Katherine was also pre-med and helped Amy most of the time when Amy fell behind.
"Let me guess, Women's Studies?" I taunted Madison from across the table as we continued to get to know each other better.
"No," She shot back heatedly, "Pre-Law!"
And then sheepishly, "With a minor in Women's Studies..."
I burst out laughing with the rest of the girls, poking a little fun at their friend's cold side. She turned red, and tried to stare some of her friends into submission.
"Nothing wrong with that!" I quipped while raising my red bull in a toasting motion, "This world needs more feminists; perhaps with a little less ice around the edges, though."
Again, the devilish smirk. Madison looked as though she wanted to say something witty, but thought better and we resumed chatting about what courses everyone was in this semester.
Fast forward fifteen minutes, and Amy is sitting very close to me in a booth, her hand lightly grazing my thigh where my cock lay tightly against my pants. Only Katherine and her remained, the rest cutting up the dance floor to some early 2000s hip-hop. She was trying to maintain a conversation with Katherine while knowingly making my cock more erect through my pants. This girl knew what I was packing and got a kick out of teasing me in public. Gotta love a girl who knows what she wants in a guy, I mused as my hand lightly stroked her lower back.
Jessica emerged from the crowd and bounded over to our table, grabbing Amy and Katherine's hands' and trying to pull them out of the booth to dance. Amy resisted initially, enjoying the effect her hands were having on my now-turgid member. But then a Lil Wayne song queued up and she leapt from the booth, her hands in the air hooting. I waved them off, indicating my friends were texting me, and I'd be with them shortly. As planned, Madison slid into the booth within a minute and I pretended not to notice as I scanned my phone. Finally, I looked up and acknowledged her.
