Fragments
This party is awesome. You don’t care that you know nobody here—they all look so cool and fun and the music is thumping like a heartbeat and you feel almost as if you’re floating, vibrating in time with the beat and smiling, a flirty look in your eye, your sexiest top giving everyone something nice to look at. It’s just so much fun to be so gone, so sensitive that every inch of your skin feels like it’s been caressed by a warm breeze, so free and ditzy and
Where the fuck are you? How did you get here? Who are these people? They’re looking at you like a pack of lions staring at a gazelle. Panic starts to set in. You try to remember how you got here, why you’re dressed like a… like a cocktease. Deep breaths. Shit, you need to get out of here. You need
You need another drink! Your cup is empty and that just won’t do. You normally don’t drink too much but something inside you pulls you back to the punch bowl and the colorful bottles. You have a nice buzz going, time to step it up a notch! You don’t read the labels, you just mix yourself a drink using the colors as a basis. A little bit of red, some blue, some of that clear one that feels like fire going down and makes you feel so good inside. The men are dancing closer now, starting to gather around you, and your pussy gets so wet… all this attention just for you! Good thing you’re the only girl at this party! Attention gets you almost as tipsy as alcohol and you intend to make the most of it. After all it’s fun to
You feel drunk. You look at the cup in your hand. When did you drink? How much have you drunk? What the fuck are you doing? It’s getting hard to focus and you remember exactly why you shy away from drinking. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why can’t you remember? Where the fuck are you? Okay, settle down. Look around and try to ignore the room starting to spin around you. The guys are looking at you, and one in particular keeps getting closer. You feel as if you’ve woken up to a nightmare. Find a way out. Just locate the door and
Have another drink! You can’t stop. You just… need more. You giggle. Red drink, white drink, blue drink. Mix them together and… patriotic! The guys all look at you and their eyes feel like hands roaming all over your sensitive body. Fuck it’s so hot… and you feel so hot, so fucking sexy, so slutty and fun… yes, you have to be fun for them. Especially the long haired one, the one with the tattoos. He looks fun. Everything is just fun. It’s fun to be sexy. It’s fun to be a slut. Did you just think that or… well, who cares where the thought came from, it’s absolutely right. It’s time to dance and move your body and maybe show them a little bit of
You snap back. Oh fuck. Your top is off and you’re in the middle of the room. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How the hell did it happen? What the fuck is going on? You cover yourself with your arms. What the fuck? Something is very, very, wrong. Something is wrong with your head. There are holes where memories should be. And you feel very, very drunk. You also note that you’ve soaked through your panties. Oh no. What on Earth are you doing in those moments when you’re just… gone? Why are you apparently acting like
So hot to look at them looking at you. Fuck, they look at your tits like they’re the best thing in the world. You fondle them and moan. Yes, they are amazing. They feel amazing. You rub yourself over your shorts. God, you’re so sensitive and the boys are looking at you and the one with the long hair looks like he wants to devour you and you want him to take you and you should just get some relief right here, put on a show for them, dance and bend over and
Your hand is wet. It takes you a moment to realize where you are, what you’re doing. Take stock of the situation. Fuck, the alcohol is making it really hard to think. You’re on a table, as if on display or… putting on a show. Your shorts are off and your legs are open. No, no, no! You need to stop this tight fucking now, but how? The juices in your hand and the throbbing between your legs make it obvious what your… show has been. Do it now. Get out now while you still can. Get out before
Yes, let them look at you. Feel how desired you are. How much they all want to fuck you. Tease them. Move and smile. Drool on your tits. Oh, they liked that! Give them more. Give them all you have. Give them all you are. “Look at me”, you whimper as your fingers play with your pink, glistening pussy. “Look at the fucking slut I am… look how good my cunt is… fuck, it’s so tight… it needs cock… needs cock so badly… use me… pass me around, make me suck all your dicks, cover me in cum… let me be a fuckdoll for you all… Please, please use my mouth, my throat, my tits, my ass… I exist to get you off… I exist to be a living fleshlight… nothing more than a fucking whore to pound and slap… make me do tricks… make me act like a little slutty pet…” Oh fuck yeah, that got them going…you can almost smell their yummy cocks, all hard for you… and the hot, long-haired one looks like he just might
Oh no. He’s coming closer. He looks so determined, so ready to take you. You need to get out, and yet you know you provoked him, you are sure you did… something to draw you in while you were out. Still, you need to get a grip NOW. Time is running out by the second, he’s getting closer and closer and it will soon be too late to
The floor is moving. You look at it scrolling and feel the strength of the man carrying you on his shoulder. You should be scared but you can’t. Too drunk, too happy, too ditzy, too silly, too horny. You hear a door open and suddenly you’re on a bed. The long haired guy looks at you. You feel so floaty. His hand on your tit. You moan. You can’t help it. You’re here but not here. He kisses your neck. You let him. Too gone to stop him. Do you want to stop him? You don’t know. Everything just feels so intense and so fuzzy and it’s like the world is shimmering and trembling and spinning and you’re so wet and
Inside you. He’s inside you. You can feel him moving, using you as a toy, just… fucking you and you want to speak up but you’re too wasted to form words. You feel desperation growing. You can’t stop him. You can’t stop him. You feel so powerless and you feel so disgusted with yourself, with your traitorous body, with the fact that every thrust feels so fucking good, with your soaked pussy sending wave after wave of pleasure up your spine. A part of you feels detached, rationally assessing what’s happening as a monstrous act. He’s so big and so strong and you’re so drunk and weak and
Fucking hot. You can’t think. All you can do is feel his cock using your slutty cunt, and you can sense an orgasm coming, inevitable as a tsunami, getting closer and closer and you hand grabs the sheets and you bite your lip and
An explosion of body and mind. As you convulse with pleasure, memories come back. You scream and squirm and drool and feel his cum pumping into you… and suddenly it stops. Panting, you feel the familiarity of his cock inside you. You hold it in, just a little longer. It feels like… home. He looks into your eyes, a kind smile on his face. You remember now. You remember the sessions to train your brain for this event. You remember you both planning it, his worries and caring when you told him your fantasy. You remember the people at the party: all friends you love and trust. And this man, this wonderful man that fucked your mind for months just so you’d forget your life for a while and slip into a carefully designed fantasia. You love him so much. His gaze is inquisitive, trying to gage if you’re okay. You are. You are more than okay. You smile, and that soothes his concerns. He kisses you deeply and holds you tight. Then, he whispers in your ear.
“Happy anniversary, honey”