hoodlum verseXamberyn

[Verse]

Dale Tiller came from a mining town one state over. He moved in with his uncle here in the city in his early teens. It was his mother's idea, to get him away from the backwater poisons where she'd birthed him; moonshine and meth and trailer park whorehouses, and hunting rifles that had killed more men than deer. A kingdom of elicit things overgrown with rust and moss and sweat. His father's kingdom.

Dale couldn't quit it, though. He'd seen enough of flesh on skeletons rotting in tall grass or posing, melancholic and lonely in snow, that he could only romanticize the value of life in a hard and bitter way. He already knew that chemicals governed people, and that violence was a surefire way to access them, and that drugs were slower, but easier to spread. It was an old power in a young body that moved to the big city with two carboard boxes, and a felt jacket. And a knife with a well-tended to blade, but with rusted screws in the handle.

There was a lot of that left in him, coming in to this apartment. The door said Joshua Wilkin, but he was just Joe to Dale's gang. Dale had sprung in height since first moving here. A mountain spirit come to steal the souls of the cityfolk. And so far he'd done it with drugs and guns, both of which would be here, tonight. It was a new spot, and while everyone attending would swear up and down they never worried about shit, they were criminals, and criminals are a superstitious lot. They didn't like switching things up. But Joe had been adamant in promising his home was perfect for deals, since it was in a sweet spot. Dale was used to people sucking up to him, especially climbers like Joe. But it checked out. This apartment was big enough to store some wares, and defensible. And the area was accessible for the street runners.

Dale clomped into the apartment with black boots. He liked to be able to move quickly, so his black jeans were close to his long legs. He wore a tanktop of the same color underneath his big jacket. Atop the lengthy neck coming out of the open collar, there was a well-cut jawline and old, brown eyes peering through healthy, youthful features. The strong brow reinforced him as a leader and the no-nonsense, new shave was a shadow over his scalp. It made his cheeks even deeper, and that in turn lifted his cheekbones higher. Dale was known for his mountainfolk apatite, but his skin was thin, like he couldn't pack on mass other than his height.

A handful of runners had already gotten to the location, and Joe had been sitting on the wares for three days. Since there was a lot of product in this delivery, Dale needed to be there, to divvy out the takes. It was a good opportunity to raise morale, so he'd brought along a duffle with rolls of cash for the troops. There needed to be emotion every time anyone saw him, his dad had taught him that. So he got rough with his runners, but he also paid them as much as he thought he could. It bred respect and loyalty and that's why Dale had a meteoric rise in the syndicate. That and he got shit done; sold what needed to be sold, and killed who needed to be dead.

He was an imposing person, coming into the livingroom that had a crate in front of the table, which was already full of saran wrapped bricks, and duct taped metal boxes. The young men greeted him enthusiastically, and one of them had to quickly slide out of the way when Dale sat himself in the middle of the couch and dropped the duffle over all the drugs on the couch table. "Joe." he said to the host. "Open it. Let these fucking animals have their allotted meat." The others were livid at the prospect of these cash bonuses, and would stare hungrily, circling the table, indeed like hyenas on a gazelle, when the zipper was drawn. There was satisfaction on Dale's face at seeing them excited.

"And where's the fucking entertainment, man?" he asked and waved one hand dismissively in the air, looking around. "I heard you got a girl. Where is she? Have her get me a drink or something." Everyone knew Dale liked vodka. "So we can get started with settling what goes were." That's why he'd come, after all, to give his stamp of approval, and arm his troops. It was an important formality, and not really something he could trust to anyone else. But that didn't mean it had to be boring. He remembered seeing a picture of the girl on Joe's screen saver once or twice, and noting she was a looker. Apart from being known for dealing out a beating that'd send you to the ER, Dale was also known to be something of a sex addict. And, in this line of business, addictions could be an asset or a problem.

The others were loud, looking the cash over, but carefully to grab what they wanted until Dale started saying who got what. By how everyone was standing while Dale sat, it'd be obvious who called the shots to anyone walking in. The others were like hungry but well trained dogs, looking at the gaping duffle, the longer he waited. He wanted to torture them a bit. But they became loud again when he leaned forward and scooped up rolls and started tossing to each of them, the amount on the bills equal to their worth to the syndicate.

 

[Amberyn]

"Right away, Boss," Joe acknowledged, scurrying out of the room to find his girlfriend.

His ire rose with every step. Abby knew how important this meeting was to him. Where the fuck was she? He stomped into the kitchen in such a fury that Abigail jumped in the air, sending a spray of potato chips flying across the room. Frightened eyes focused on him, the bag of chips swinging limply in her hand, a few more spilling from it. He was across the kitchen in a few steps, fingers wrapping around her throat as he slammed her back against the cupboards. She winced as her back hit the wood, the metal handle digging into the small of her back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded, fingers tightening a little before easing up. He needed her on top form, and had made a point of not leaving any marks on her in the lead-up to this meeting. It wasn't easy when she pissed him off so easily. His other hand slammed into the cupboard above her head.

"I was just getting some snacks for the boys, they're always hungry-" Abby whimpered, flinching away from him. Recently, he'd been gentler with her, taking his temper out on her in the bedroom rather than using his fists. Compared to other women, she got off lightly, and he never bruised her where anyone could see. That didn't mean it didn't hurt in the moment, though.

Joe groaned, the stupid cow. It was a good thing she was stunning and a good lay, because he certainly didn't keep her around for her brain. "I told you before, Abs, this isn't a fucking night with the boys. It's much more important than that. Understand?"

She nodded, and he lifted his hand to her chin, his thumb stroking along her jaw. He smirked, enjoying the way she trembled beneath him. Joe's eyes narrowed at the red marks on her throat, sighing with a slow shake of his head. "Look what you made me do, baby."

"I know, I'm sorry, Joe," Abby answered quickly, eager to change his mood.

His head lowered, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss, the press of his body telling her that he was growing hard. Releasing her a moment later, she saw the heat in his gaze and wondered whether he was going to bend her over the kitchen island. Joe was contemplating it, and if this were any other time, he would have indulged himself. Instead, he let his hand slide down her throat, pausing over her breasts to scrape his thumb over one nipple. It rose in response to his touch, and he chuckled, dragging his fingers down to the edge of the short dress he'd given her to wear. His hand slid beneath the shimmering material, watching her closely as she squirmed beneath his touch. Her breath came out in jagged gasps, a moan escaping her lips when he cupped her smooth mound.

"Fuck, that dress..." he murmured, a thumb rubbing along her slit, delighting in the wet feel of her arousal. Abruptly, he released her and took a step back. "The boss wants a drink. Vodka, the good stuff."

Abby watched him leave, disappearing back into the other room, expecting her to jump to it. She was still clutching the half-empty bag of chips, and she dumped it on the island next to the bowl she'd been filling. Casting a glance at the mess, she shrugged; it would need to wait until later. No matter what Joe said, Abby knew men. There was always someone with an appetite; the chips would disappear at some point.

Straightening up, she dusted off her dress, a nervous gesture. It wasn't the first time Joe had dressed her up in something scandalous to entertain his guests, nor would it be the last. The gold dress barely clung to her figure, hanging low on her breasts with a high slit in the already short skirt. The back was low, skimming just above her buttocks. She kept her dark hair loose, just like Joe liked it, and gold eyeshadow highlighted her pale green eyes and red lipstick to draw the eye. Just their eyes, though; Joe liked to flaunt her, but no one touched her. The last and only time someone did, Joe had broken their arm.

A hand lifted to her lips, and she pulled a compact mirror from a drawer, touching up her makeup. It gave her a chance to settle herself. Even after all this time, he could still rattle her, her body tuned to his needs and desires. When she pulled out the expensive vodka, Abby was relieved to see her hand was steady as she poured. Joe would kill her if she spilt any. She realised she didn't know if his boss took ice, and she frowned, drumming her fingers on the kitchen top. Grabbing another glass, she filled it with ice and took both with her into the living room.

Studiously avoiding looking at the pile of drugs and weapons, she paused inside the door, her eyes falling on the only man seated, who was throwing rolls of cash around. Abby let her gaze wash over him before pushing forward, skirting her way around the men until she was standing in front of him.

"Your drink, Mr Tiller," she said, offering both glasses to him.

 

[Verse]

He was having a good time. Things were good. This wasn't some emergency meeting where he had to whip the troops into shape. Not that he minded wailing on these boys. That, too, was needed for morale. It had become a party trick, to go up against the big man. But after his humble beginnings, having to prove himself, now winning was no longer a guarantee to take his place. It'd just be for fun. Unless, of course, he needed to make a point with it. Either way, gathering here, tonight, wasn't about defending territory or beating down upstarts or having to fill quota. This was just expansion. Going up, always. But they were serious males, and they needed that tinge of brutality and primal struggle to motivate them. Not like he could control these dumb gents with carefully laid-out logic and academic spread sheets. They understood when it hurt, and he didn't mind teaching them like that. Whether they were dirty-faced workers in a mine with shit code, or fellow youngsters haunting a city night, lit up by streelights and neon, he had to apply pressure to maintain pressure. For now they would behave, because what he'd done last was fresh in their minds.

So maybe he'd indulge himself too. He had a black cigarette in his lips and talked shit while the duffle was dwindling. The other animals here waited their turn at the meat, but they were ravenous for it, of course. They needed it, you can't eat without green, but they wanted it beyond what it could buy. Money was a symbol of how much you were worth, even here. Meant you'd done good. And Dale Tiller was a genius when keeping score. It wasn't just about rewarding the good ones, the ones who gave the best results, it was about looking into their eyes, and knowing what amount, compared to what the others got, that would satisfy one person and the next. His decision was law, reinforced by the uppers, but he'd only have that power for so long, until there was an uproar. Not to mention a decline in performance. They were simple, but like a lake behind a dam is simple. You have to uphold the counter force. And they were happy now, since it felt like a lot to them. They had their usual take, and he could have used this money on himself, but what good was a shiny car if you got lynched in it? Starve your army and lose your kingdom.

His men were in tune with him, and had already started looking at the bricks of powder and compressed wares when his expression tensed up, looking at the doorframe. Yeah, they all though at the same time; hadn't Joe been gone a while now? The slight frown around the black cigarette had them thinking Joe had taken too much time for a host. He came back and didn't bring anything, and even though the rest of them went back to their work, there were a few grumbles. Dale scooped up three rolls from the duffle and tossed them at Joe, which was definitely among the bigger amounts he'd dealt out, but it was a bit begrudgingly. Joe got that for his ambition, but also for hosting, tonight. A good place of commerce was worth a lot, in their line of work. If it held up, it could be a hub. Didn't mean he could skimp on the entertainment though, or any promises he made. Dale let Joe stand close to him, but not sit down. He shrugged out of his jacket. Dales arms were long, with stretched out muscle and some dark motif tattoos strewn about them. The black tanktop made them obvious. They all played with negative space and had a horror theme.

But before her could criticize, they got to see her walk in. There was a collective, uneven intake of air at the introduction of that combustive element in the group. Gold was a fitting color. Their heads were turning at the exact pace of her feet when she came over and around them. But when she attended Dale, they knew not to interrupt or do their catcalls. There was no way she didn't feel how they wanted to tear into her, though. But, like the money, they knew when they could eat and when they should stay put. When she extended the glasses to Dale, they continued tentatively talking to each other about the wares, but would often turn to look. If she moved the right way, that dress could be-- generous.

Dale clucked his tongue quietly as he leaned back, taking her in, up and down, taking his time, and even threw a congratulatory glance at Joe by his side. She still had her hands out with the glasses, and he never thought he should hurry for her sake. He was unresponsive so long the others started snickering, at having her just stand there. The shadows on his face changed. The svelte bone and powerful traits mixed up with the litheness of his youth were potent in expressing him, not just what he felt, but what he was. Human, but something else, too. Something that snarled, high-pitched, and scared away hulking predators. Something that owned the lands before the first settlers.

"That's two drinks, though, darling." he said and licked his upper right canine as he took the cigarette out and dropped it in the ashtray set out for him. "You too pretty for math, or what?" he asked with smoke rising out of him, and there was real laughter among the men now. It seemed like a common thing because they didn't stop their job for it, but they did let themselves look. "You don't teach her to count, Joe?" he asked turning toward the man, but his eyes didn't leave her. He then tapped his leg. "How about you sit here and I'll teach you some?" he offered and waited. When she did, because he didn't expect she would risk upsetting him, no one here would, he would relieve her of the glass without the ice. It's fogline above the surface said it was cold enough, anyway. "One." he raised it to her. And then touched it to the one she was still holding. The silver sound was stout. "Two." Of course, she'd have to have a sip now, when he drank of his. His other hand would come up her exposed back, fingertips counting her vertebrae, before his touch fell lower. "What other things do you have two of?" he asked as he brought his glass to the meeting of her collarbones, and a drop of condensation fell down between her breasts.

Of course, if she didn't sit, he'd frown and she'd see the pretty swell of the angles of his jaw, quiet frustration, as he had to drink alone, in a rather loud, big gulp. It'd be worse for her health, in the long run, and likely also Joe's.

 

[Amberyn]

The stares were normal, and Abby knew better than to react to them. Even the slightest glance or perception of one would infuriate Joe. She was there to be seen, to be ogled and lusted after, a testament to her boyfriend's masculinity. And so when his boss took his time in admiring her, Abby let her gaze rest steadily on his face, flushing a little beneath his predatory stare. A few didn't mind her looking down, even revelling in the way she shied from their gaze, but most men she'd learned wanted to be seen. Wanted her to notice how they watched her, the way their hunger grew with every inch of her skin they committed to memory. This one was one of those. His tattoos demanded to be seen, and she had to admit she was fascinated by them.

She didn't miss the look he threw at Joe, and Abby could practically feel him gloating. A simmer of annoyance as he kept her waiting, making her stand in the middle of the room like a statue. Snickers broke out around the room, a deeper colour spreading along her high cheekbones. Internally, she sighed, letting him play his power game as she studied his tattoos. There was a shift in him suddenly, and her eyes leapt to his face, recognising the change in his mood.

Relief flashed in her eyes as he ridiculed her, the words washing over her. Ridicule she could handle, even if his comments pissed her off. There was a new stiffness in the way she held herself, a slight swallow of her throat as she followed the playbook she knew by heart.

"Forgive me, I-" she started to murmur, eyes dipping demurely, the sentence never finished as he spoke again, his comment directed at her boyfriend, hitting harder than the previous two. Laughter echoed around her, none of it Joe's. She didn't dare look at him, feeling the fury radiating off him. He offered a grunt in response, and nothing more. Her hands shook slightly, the ice in one glass knocking against the side. The fresh finger marks on her neck stung, an unfinished promise of what would come later if she screwed this up for him.

Slight movement caught her attention, the tapping of fingers indicating exactly where he expected her to sit. Abby froze, eyes venturing to his face. Did he know what he was asking? Did he care? Probably not. She only allowed herself a few seconds of indecision before she was moving, juggling both glasses carefully as she lowered herself onto his lap. One leg on either side of his lap brought her in front of him, her bare flesh settling against dark denim. Her heart raced, but not for the reason he probably thought it did. Did he even notice how tightly wound Joe was? If this weren't so important to Joe, she would have declined, but Joe had made it clear that she was not to upset his boss.

He plucked the ice-free glass from her fingers, and she watched him knock it against the other glass, counting as he did so. The implication that she drank hung in the air, and Abby slowly brought her glass to her lips. She took the barest of sips, enough to obey the unspoken command. The alcohol burned, and her features twisted a little at the strength of it. Joe hated it when she got drunk, telling her that it turned her into a slut. She was tempted to take another drink, a larger one, to let it take the edge off. If Joe wasn't sitting so close, a silent brooding warning, she might have done.

Instead, she lowered it, fingers tightening around it when she felt fingers dance along her spine. It wasn't the only thing that tightened as those fingers skimmed lower, sliding beneath the neckline of her dress. Her breath caught, dark lashes fluttering over jade eyes. No other man had ever touched her, and no one like this. Joe was heavy-handed, lacking the skills and desire for finesse. His boss, on the other hand, Dale Tiller, was a completely different beast.

Her gaze sharpened at the feel of his glass nestled against the base of her throat. A single drop of liquid landed in the valley between her breasts, sliding down in an agonising, slow path. Abby was already hot and bothered from Joe's teasing, and she felt a flash of heat between her thighs. A warm smile crossed her lips an idea formed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Reaching into her glass, she carefully pulled one ice cube free, holding it in her fingertips while lowering the glass to the side. She placed it on the empty couch cushion next to her, not the ideal place, but she didn't think asking her boyfriend to hold her drink while she flirted with his boss was a smart move.

Turning back to Dale, she lifted the ice cube to her face. "Two... lips," she offered, eyes darkening as she dragged it slowly over her cupid's bow, down to her parted lips, tracing them with the ice and leaving a trail of moisture in its wake.

 

[Verse]

And she did remain standing there, both of the glasses in limbo, waiting for his decision about them. She was a lovely thing. And she liked him too. They usually did until he became what he was, right in front of their eyes. It was always their perception of him that lied. He was usually honest, even when he didn't speak the truth. She had the good taste to let him look. That's why she was here. That's why he had told her boyfriend that she needed to be. Not a lot of individuals got to get between Daler Tiller and his work. But she was part of the plan. The boys were going to have fun with this. No need to be serious over firearms and contraband, right? Not when this was safe ground, courtesy of the host, who was now providing good eye candy, too.

But the poor little woman with the blushing face and the blushing neck didn't like to be belittled. It made him scoff, amused. She wasn't wearing that dress to highlight the fact that she had a brain, right? He was just taking what she was offering, which was herself, as an object, as an appeasement from Joe. Forgive me, she said, but that never meant he wouldn't punish, anyway. His forgiveness wasn't worth much.

So he had to test her. She took her cues from Joe, but Dale didn't even have to look at the other man to know what decision she had to arrive at. He was sure Joe had her on a short leash, but the truth was, Dale didn't need a leash. He had every gun in this fucking room. He owned this place, even if Joe or Abby was on the lease. She didn't keep him waiting. He leaned back, and had expected her to sit her rump down on the thigh he'd tapped, but she straddled him instead, holding out the glasses. His brows raised. He did shoot Joe a glance, as though saying 'look at what she did'. The others hadn't missed the miscommunication, and choked down laughter bubbled around the room. Maybe the beauty was just as dumb as her loveliness suggested?

Dale wasn't complaining, though. The dress hiked up her hips when she had to spread her legs like that, and he let his eyes dart down to see what he could catch. He hadn't seen any pantiline, but who knew, maybe there was something infinitesimal under there. "Atta girl." he said when she drank. It felt good to have her swallow so close to him. She seemed to come alive and forget the boyfriend she was so focused on, when he touched down her back. And even more so when he put the drink against her.

He showed his teeth in his next smile, following her hand when discarding of her drink but keeping the cube of ice. He moved closer as she applied the melting shape to her lips. They were good lips. And now she wanted to play. His free hand remained at the very bottom of the cut-out at the back. "Now that's a smart girl." he rewarded when she counted her petals. With her this close, he shouldn't really be expected to resist.

Right in front of her boyfriend, he pushed his face forward, and kissed her. As soon as their lips established firm contact, he parted his to force hers to do the same, that way he could slide his tongue into her mouth and find hers, in there. It was obvious she should reciprocate. Girls like Abby had a reflect to suck, anyway, didn't they? He was sure Joe would be upset, but if he cared about the fragile relationships of his underlings, he wouldn't be where he was, today.

His hand on her back though, was the real offender, and the ones watching would notice that. He buried his fingers under the dress's plunging backline, until his longest finger could edge into the crack between her asscheek, curling to stroke at the bottom of that crevice, reaching to find and massage her asshole, though hidden by the dress. The motions seen from outside the fabric by the other men should tell the story well enough.

 

[Amberyn]

There had been no miscommunication, only strategic planning, that brain he seemed to think didn't exist, frantically working to gain his approval before she ruined everything. This wasn't Abby's first rodeo; she knew that any man who looked at her like that was never upset when a woman straddled them. It was a position that screamed intimacy, drawing forth memories of strip clubs and lap dances, beckoning to their base desires. Her body was all she had, the only currency to trade in, and she hadn't kept Joe happy all these years without learning how to utilise it.

This man, though, was drawing her in with every flash of his eyes, the baring of his teeth, the offering of praise when she correctly counted to two. He surged forward, claiming her lips before she could react. Or that's what she would tell Joe later when he lashed out. A second of surprise melted away, and the hand holding the ice cube slid away, fingers crushing the ice. She shivered as it melted with the heat, catching at the base of her throat and dripping down into the glass still nestled against her skin. Her other hand reached for him, clutching at the back of his head and finding smoothness rather than the thick curls she was used to feeling.

Dale Tiller knew how to kiss. He demanded her compliance, and she gave it, lips parting in surrender. His tongue pushed into her mouth like he owned it, and she felt her hunger rising to meet him. The heat between her thighs grew as she responded, her tongue dancing with his, always complementing his movements and never pushing for control. He tasted of smoke and vodka, of control and power. Despite all the men and weapons in the room, despite Joe seething so close, Abby knew that he was the most dangerous person in the room.

Her boyfriend was a distant worry already, something to deal with later. Then she felt Dale's hand snake lower, the scrap of material that hung loosely over her body doing nothing to protect her. Unhindered, he let his finger venture between her cheeks until he found the treasure hidden between them. She stiffened just for a moment as he made contact with her tight hole. A shudder tore through her, the digit beginning to massage her asshole, making her body sing. Joe was forgotten in a flash, her hips tipping back a little, eager to feel the press of him harder against her.

As he devoured her mouth, Abby had the briefest moment of recognition that her plan may have worked a little too well. She hadn't quite expected him to react to her teasing with quite as much vigour, and now she sat shamelessly squirming on his lap, her growing arousal dampening her thighs.

 

[Verse]

He liked her default setting of obedience. Even if she did it for the wrong man. Joe was okay, but he had more ambition than he had worth. He'd be trouble if he got too high. They meant to run a tight operation, and someone who only wanted power without meaning to do effective things with it, would eventually get in the way. And that's when trustable loyals like Dale came in. But he'd rather keep the Joes of the world from becoming problems at all. But he guessed Joe was good for a locale to trade in, and now for his stellar girlfriend, too. She was a grade A thing, ready for use. And she seemed to know that. Blood was moving to his extremity as she straddled him, as she was told. And she purred under the praise for her meager mathematical accomplishment.

He had her eat his tongue, and she did it without fail. Some grils liked to play at this part, and you always knew which ones were trying to be, pretending to be, and who were naturals. Abby here yielded instantly, and he could tell it was deeply engrained in her. Her reward was an even deeper kiss, as though he wanted to claim more of her insides with the slather from his slick muscle. Everything was well turned and accommodating in this woman. It made his cock twitch. He hadn't told her to, but she even encouraged him by holding on and caressing the back of his head. She wanted this, whether she or her boyfriend admitted it.

But if her mouth was welcoming, her ass was starved. He noted the little tension in the rest of her when he first graced it, but she melted into the touch soon. A low, amicable but always dangerous rumble rose in the mouth already occupied with conquering her when her eager-to-be-tended-to place had her hips tilt to give him better access. His finger probed firmly against her unprotected anus. "Oh, you're an extra good girl if you like that. No need to bother your pretty little head with counting, then." He said into her mouth which was mostly occupied with his saliva. He gave her some extra pressure from his finger as a reward for her aptitude, and right here, in front of everyone, he pushed the tip of that digit in, softly stroking her sphincter. It was only slightly concealed by the fabric of her dress in the back, but the motion of his hand should suggest what was happening.

He could feel Joe leaning in, closer to them. Despite the obvious respect the underling had for Dale, he couldn't keep his instincts to get at what was being taken from him. Dale didn't even look at him as the hand not currently introducing a finger into Joe's girlfriend's ass, palmed Joe's face and shoved him away, not acknowledging Joe in any other way. More of Dale's digit slipped into Abby's pucker, and the angle of her hips helped.

His lips were still connected to hers by strings of clear spit when he drew back just a little. "Hey, you look a little overdressed." He said and sat back until those strings broke, and she was left with a slathered lower part of her face. There was an obvious bulge between them. His long arm was still behind her, it's hand having an ever eager finger pushing deeper and deeper into her. He wiped his lips with his other hand. "My men are hard working. Why don't you dance for me, and give them a show?" He suggested to the hoots of the men around them, though likely not from Joe. A last push inside her and then he retrieve the hand hidden at the low back of her dress too, dislodging his finger. He was eager to see the effects he'd had on her, in other places.

 

[Amberyn]

She felt the steady growth of his length beneath her, the way it reacted to her body, making her smile beneath his lips. Abby felt giddy when his chest rumbled beneath her, his lips shaping words against her mouth. Her carefully reapplied lipstick was smeared, leaving a blurred trace on her face and an imprint on his lips that she could feel every time their lips met. The counting game was dismissed, his finger pushing more firmly, seeking entrance. A soft 'oh' was whispered against his lips, the tip of his finger pushing past her sphincter. The first stroke sent a shiver up her spine, her body convulsing with the violence of it.

Abby didn't know what could be seen and, quite frankly, didn't care. Beneath those lips, she melted, her other hand joining the first around his neck. Her chest pressed against his shirt, her behind pressing further against his hand, eager to feel him deeper. There was movement, a brush of his arm against her chest, briefly before the limb lowered again. Gesturing to one of his men, she assumed, too caught up in the deepening kiss to think more about it. His finger dipped further into her, driving a whimper from her, a low, visceral sound.

Just as she was about to start grinding against his palm, he pulled his lips back from hers. Blinking slowly, it took her a moment for her brain to reconnect and understand the words. Saliva coated her lips and chin, a line of drool connecting them. It snapped when he moved away, leaning back in his seat, and she was vaguely aware of it hitting her skin. Overdressed. Clothes. She lifted a hand from his neck, beginning to bring it back to her own body, to slip out of her tiny dress. She felt the press of him against her thigh, her eyes drifting lower, skirting over the shape of him in his jeans.

Understanding flooded her at the mention of a dance, a playful smile offered in response to the request. Lap dancing was something that Joe particularly enjoyed, and he liked to show off her skills. Normally, the prospect of a dance made her feel confident and sexy, but Dale was an unknown, and the burden of Joe's expectations made her nervous. At that moment, he pushed his finger in deeper, and her hand froze mid-motion between their bodies, her breath stuttering out. Abby looked at his face sharply, his finger no longer teasing her anus. There was no anger, nothing to indicate she had upset him. At least not yet.

"Yes, Sir," she murmured, bringing both hands to her lap.

She began to move her hips, undulating in his lap, bare skin skimming over the length of him straining beneath dark denim. Her hands teased at the edge of her dress, rolling the slinky material between her fingers. She lifted it just a little before abandoning it, a little tease of what was to come. Lying her hands flush to her stomach, Abby dragged them up over her breasts, grabbing her tits through the material and pushing them upwards. They didn't quite spill out of the low neckline, her hands releasing them, gliding up her neck, twisting in her hair and dragging it up in the air before letting it drop. Her hands retreated back the way they came, down to her thighs, to her knees.

On the way back up, she pushed the skirt up an inch, offering a peek at what lay between her thighs. The whole time, her eyes never left Dale's face, the first glimpse of hidden flesh offered for his pleasure only. This time, when she released her breasts, she slid her hands sideways to push the thin straps off her shoulders. The weight of the material dragged the neckline even lower, the roll of her hips causing it to flow further, baring her breasts.

 

[Verse]

She was good. She was obedient. She didn't move away when his finger wanted inside her. And she took it well. Her face looked better with the lipstick blurred to one side of her lips. He liked the sound she made when her asshole took the tip of his finger and how her body quivered from it. That's right, he got whatever he wanted. She wanted to please him. This place was already looking up, with her living here. She was going crazy from his touch and treatment.

He almost quaked, himself, when she got more eager. She was proving to be a kingly gift, even if she hadn't been meant to give this much. She didn't notice when her boyfriend was dismissed and that's how it should be. She belonged to Dale, right now. When she came even more undone, holding on to him while her ass was made to swallow up his finger, he thought she was the perfect woman. It didn't matter if she couldn't count, if she was so sensitive in her anus. If she was one of the girls he sold, she would have fetched a good price, just for her anal affinity.

She was surprised and-- disappointed? When he stopped. She did look every bit as dumb as he teased her for being, when he gave her the new order. Dumb was also a resource he could sell in his girls, especially when they had faces like Abby. He waited for her expression to show any kind of understanding, and his wore the kind of patience you have for someone particularly daft. Though very engaging and enticing, Abby didn't exactly look like a Scholar with her lipstick smeared and her face soaked in spit. It made his cock twitch, and she looked down as though the mere presence of his filling cock was draining her of her remaining thoughts. Eventually, she ingested the information into her beautiful skull. Her reaction, almost resetting her when he removed his finger to give her freedom for the dance, was adorable.

When she started moving he got excited. It was a pretty choreography. And he looked at her with the casual hunger of a predator who was presented abundant meat. With her hips moving like that, she massaged his bulge throughout and the stimulation made his pants more uncomfortable. He growled to that effect. Like any other man in here, he was a bit hypnotized by her hands, and his brows raised in expectation and then a bit of engaged disappointment when she didn't let those tits free. How could such a scant dress stay on when someone moved like that? He huffed in amused frustration.

"Fuck." He muttered and grabbed her waist, touch digging in to push her moving hips tighter to his bulge. He was very focused when she moved her hands up again, and sighed with praise when she gave good payout, her breasts exposed and having a flood of blood try to burst his cock out of his pants.

The hand not on her waist freely grabbed one of those soft orbs, eagerly assessing her texture. He pinched the nipple harshly, looking to see it's color and design before looking into her pretty eyes again. His other hand pressed her moving body harder on his bulge, the hard hill able to hold most of her weight. Her face was a mess in front of him, and with her moving like that, tits out, it was getting harder to think about business.

His hand slipped from her breast to trail down her stomach. He explored her body all the way down through her dress so he could stick his fingers under the Golden fabric to find her pussy, cupping it firmly and stroking his longest finger between her labia lips. The men around them saw what was happening and would occasionally glance over at Joe. They were well aware of how possessive he was, but also that he fell in line when Dale gave an order. How would he handle his girlfriend being topless, giving a lapdance, basically dry-fucking the boss's cock bulge?

Dale didn't pay the underling any mind as he inserted his digit into the soaked cunt. "You're fucking dripping." He said against her slathered mouth, and the others in the room chuckled. "Maybe it's time you show me any other party tricks you have." He said and curled his finger inside her as his wrist provided the fucking her drowning slit wanted from that intrusion. It felt pretty good to have free reign over someone else's girl. And it wasn't like he had to force her either. She wanted power. He'd show her just what real power felt like.

As it turned out, Abby was a bigger distraction than he had expected. Maybe he needed to do something about that before he could concentrate on the rest of his work.

 

[Amberyn]

He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. Abby wasn't the type to gloat - Joe had long ago slapped such behaviour out of her - but she felt a rush of adrenaline when he reacted to her dance skills. The huff of amusement he gave when she teased him was a refreshing change from Joe's brooding impatience. He reached for her, and for a second, Abby wondered if his impatience had won out. A smirk danced on her lips when he brought her closer to his bulging erection, and she ground herself harder against him, the friction making her back arch. She lived for the little pieces of praise he threw her way, the way he sighed when she let him get an eyeful of her breasts.

The trick was to tease just enough, without letting them get too frustrated. It appeared Abby had successfully done so, and she was delighted when his other hand took hold of one of her tits. She grabbed the other one herself, pushing it up, squeezing her flesh between her fingers. When he released her other breast, she went back to her dance. The way he cupped her mound as though it belonged to him sent a spasm through her. His finger slipped lower, stroking between her lips. Somehow, she managed to keep dancing as his finger eased into her, her grinding pushing him deeper inside her.

There was only heat in the look she gave him, her lips reaching for his, teeth nipping at his lower lip. She moaned against his mouth, the finger in her pussy bending at just the right angle to hook inside her. With a shuddering breath, she drew back. This time, when her hands met the hem of her dress, she crossed her arms over, taking a corner in each hand. Oh, so slowly she dragged it up and over her body, dropping it to the floor with a flourish.

Free from the dress, her toned abdomen rippled with each roll of her hips. Hands gliding over her body, she let her back arch further, pushing her breasts out while she played with them. The angle of her hips shifted a little, letting her rub her clit over his erection while he fingered her. It would take another finger or something bigger to make her moan more, for now, though, she was putting on a decent enough show. Eyes half-lidded with pleasure, still watching him carefully for his reactions.

Joe was not taking it well. Caught between arousal and fury, he'd sat back with a huff when Dale pushed him away. Arms folded over his broad chest, he caught the looks being shot his way. That just made it worse. He had big ambitions, but he needed Dale's backing to see any of them through. Abby had Dale in the palm of her hand, the other man eating up her lap dance. The slut was going all out, he begrudgingly admitted, doing exactly what he'd told her. That didn't mean he wasn't pissed about it. The cunt knew he didn't like sharing her. He cracked his neck, looking away when Dale pushed a finger inside his girl. Fuck. If he didn't move, he was going to deck the bastard.

"I need a drink," he growled, lifting himself up from the couch and stalking into the kitchen.

 

[Verse]

He saw how she reacted to his approval. So she wanted to be a good little girl? She surely acted like it, when she melted for any sign of his favor. The pretty thing in his lap was offering him all the releases he wanted, if he took them by force, right now. But he liked the game she proposed, too. She celebrated his taking of one breast by fondling the other. His dark eyes were amused when he looked her over, branding her the slut she was being but thinking it was a good thing. He let her move because she was having fun, and her self-lubricated, welcoming cunt sucked his finger right up. He buried it to the knuckle and felt around to learn her intimate anatomy. Abby was a healthy young woman, but something was missing inside her, surely. She was grinding rather close to the solution. He thought she'd cream upon insertion, but not yet.

He grinned once her teeth had graced his lips. His head tilted and continued surveying when she finally pulled at that dress again. His finger rewarded her with deeper, sloppier activity inside her pussy as she threw the dress away. He nodded when she was now in his lap, completely nude. The men behind her gawked at the full exposure of her ass, but also because of the sloshing sounds and what they could see of his finger-play, inside her. This was supposed to be business, the girl had just been a bonus. But it seemed now their boss was making a whole meal out of her. Abby didn't mind being devoured even if Joe minded very much.

Dale watched the nude woman present her breasts and worship his bulge with her hips. He did slide another finger in, scissoring them inside her to test her stretch. He knew she was focused on him and he threw her face a glance now and then, though mostly he was ingesting her body with his attention. He could feel the hatred and wrath growing beside him, in the man that thought Abby actually belonged to him.

Dale slipped his fingers out of her and used ones from his other hand to replace them, plunging past her cunt lips to fill her up. His already slick hand looked for her ass again, grabbing and smearing her with her own juices, and then utilized the moisture to stick a finger into her keen asshole. He didn't finger fuck it for long until he added another finger there, too. She now had four of his moving digits inside her. The men were very excited to see it.

"You're not going anywhere." Dale said when Joe tried to excuse himself. Dale was just looking at Abby when he gave the order. "Stay in the room. Get your phone out at film us." he said sternly. The others gasped, malicious, and eager to see the emasculation of Joe, who was usually so confident. Dale was sure Joe didn't have the balls to disobey. And if he did, the others knew how to make him comply, since they also had ambitions that involved Dale's support.

"And you." he addressed her directly. Popping both of his hands away from her, he leaned back again, spreading his arms over the back of the couch, lounging and wearing an expectant but unforgiving expression. The tank shifted over his shoulders and there were threatening shadows under his eyes. He closed his lips and it made his jaw jut before he spoke again. "Enough with this game. Take my cock out. It's time you prove just how good of a girl you can be." She'd already revealed she was a slut for his approval. Now she was going to earn it.

And if she did as she was told, the fat cock would spring free from his pants. It was already slathered with his precum, the sickly purple head pushed out of its dark foreskin, the shaft hulking and by far dwarfing any of the ones in the room. His balls were smooth, and even a shade darker than the rest of the package. Dale was proud over his situation. It helped to always have the biggest dick around, when you were barking orders. Now Abby just had to show she could handle it, too. And everyone wanted to see.

 

[Amberyn]

She was the one supposed to be doing the seducing, or something to that effect. Instead, Abby was transfixed by him. The feel of his finger inside her, the way he'd pushed it deeper when she let her dress drop to the floor. He appreciated every move of her body, switching between watching the sway of her breasts, to the roll of her hips against his growing bulge, and still managed to remember there was a face existing above her tits. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or if she was just entirely focused on what his finger was doing, but the room seemed quieter, the sound of his finger-fucking taking over from the previous bustle of activity.

A second finger slid into her, and she murmured her appreciation, eyes blazing a moment later when he spread them inside her. That time, she did skip a beat, her breath stuttering out before she continued her dance. His fingers left her, the empty feeling lasting only a few seconds before he filled her again. Relief shuddered through her, and then she felt him probing her anus again. Using her own arousal as lubricant, he slipped one finger in. Fuuck. Fuck. It felt so good. A second finger entered her ass, and Abby moaned, her hips rocking back between his two hands. There was every chance that she was going to cum on top of him.

Joe's voice rang out, and she barely noticed, too busy grinding herself against Dale, eager to feel his fingers deeper as she used the edge of his zipper to rub her clit. It was Dale's response that caught her attention, whipping out to order Joe not to move. Her movements slowed and then stopped altogether. Although he was talking to her boyfriend, Dale's attention was firmly on her, and she shivered at the intensity. Reality began to pile in, and Abby was suddenly very aware of all the eyes on her. She didn't make a move to cover up, nor did she look in Joe's direction.

The man in question had made it two steps before his boss's voice caught him. With glacial slowness, he reached for his phone, burning with embarrassment. Joe hid it behind a bored expression, bringing the phone around to focus on his boss and his girl. He almost lost his shit when he noticed where his boss's hands were, fingers penetrating Abby twice. His phone case squeaked a little, his tight grip threatening to shatter the flimsy plastic.

Abby shrank back when Dale directed that tone at her. A flash of anger shook her; she was angry with Joe for interrupting. She didn't get angry at Joe. There was no time to ruminate on the new feeling. Dale's hands released her, and she felt a flood of shame when he leaned back away from her. The expression on his face made her look at him nervously, and she waited for him to tell her to get off. His entire posture said he was done with her. It hurt a little, although she should probably be grateful he'd stopped her there...

She gaped at him when he told her to do the exact opposite. Snapping her mouth shut, she dropped her eyes to the bulge in his jeans. He didn't need to tell her twice. Abby reached for his zipper, pulling it down to reveal the full length of him. Oh fuck he was beautiful. Larger than Joe, and wider, she realised when she palmed him. She shouldn't do this. Joe was already going to tan her hide black and blue for this. There was no taking it back now, and god, did she want to be a good girl for Dale.

A blow job wasn't going to cut it. Not after the way she'd been grinding herself against him. The decision made, or rather, her doubts ignored, Abby guided him to her entrance. She lowered herself down onto him, deliberately taking her time. She wanted to feel every inch of him sliding inside her. Releasing his shaft, she lifted her head to look at his face, body shuddering as she sank lower on him. Her arms went back around his neck, drawing her breasts closer to him. With a contented moan, she felt him stretch her wider, her hips pressed against him. She gave herself a moment to adjust, and then she was moving her hips, groaning at the feeling of him.

 

[Verse]

The pretty thing had a good presence. She was giving herself fully to the moment and him. And there was a lot for him to enjoy with her. She was built exactly for this, the way she moved and the assets she knew to display. She had started doing this for her boyfriend surely, but not so much anymore. The engagement he saw in her eyes, and the way she was transfixed by him, that kind of worship wasn't even available from the most expensive girls.

But her quality shone through even more with how greedy her body was. Her moisture couldn't lie, and it beckoned him to continue. When she looked like that, tits out and moving like it would hurt her to stop, if he stopped, she was a perfectly made lure. He sexual draw was physically painful to him, evident by the discomfort of his pants straining around his rising cock, especially when she kept grinding on him. It didn't feel like she wa doing this for someone else. It felt as though she was begging him to take her.

She looked like she was robbed during the short moment his fingers slipped out of her. And then comforted when he attended both her holes. A girl who liked it in the ass was worth her weight in gold. She was trying to cum on his fliers when she stopped, as Dale ordered her boyfriend around. Her lovely eyes had been pulled from their spell, and she was a startled creature, staring back as all his lust accumulated in him. He was going to have her soon, but he wanted to test her body a little more first. What is the use of a toy if you can't play with it? And her body was practically vibrating for more of his ministrations. What a little fuckable gem he had found here. The mere aggression in his voice had made her listen, and now she was frozen for his next move. Good girl. There was a monster with all the severity of his crimes looking back at her, but at least it was with dark approval.

Joe fell in line. Even if Dale didn't see it directly, he could sense it, by how the others reacted if nothing else. Joe always fell in line. He'd seen what happened to people who didn't listen to Dale, and Joe himself had gotten to deal with them.

Abby was distressed without his fingers. The slide of his digits out of her was pleasant to him, like her inner wanted to suckle him back. And she had those shadows of a snarl on her face when he spoke to Joe. Her alliances were shifting. He had always said a woman's loyalty was to the man who fucked her the best. He made himself comfortable when he leaned back, and savored the beautiful expression she wore without him. Like she was abandoned. Ashamed? He was rather smitten by the face she made. But he didn't give her any release from it, first.

When he did she was elated and relieved. Like he'd done her a great kindness. The men around had seen it, and the scene of Joe having to film it was even better. They saw his tired expression but had to assume he wasn't as detached as he was letting on. And Dale certainly didn't care. Not when the beautiful, naked girl almost squealed when she was given her next order.

"Like it's fucking Christmas." One of them commented. They tried to continue deal out and weight the goods, but Abby was the star of this show.

Dale saw her enthusiasm but was distracted by when she freed him. His dark cock sprang out, glad to straighten out after its tight prison. He let her find her bearings. And she did rather quickly. "Biggest you've had, hon?" He asked and the others chuckled in the room, and one of them slapped Joe on his shoulder. Dale watched quietly as she held onto his massive meat, deliberating. "It's a cock, darling. Never seen one before?" He teaser.

But she knew what to do. A lot of them, including Dale, had assumed she'd use her mouth. But she didn't. Dale stared into her light irises when she went to work. "Fuck." He breathed when the cockhead got to taste her slit. He swallowed when she put on pressure, and engulfed his rod in her sopping inner. This girl was rull of surprises. And of his cock now. His hand grabbed her waist and guided her when she started moving. She was fucking herself on his cock right in front of everyone. Infront of her boyfriend. She was a snug fit, but her petite body had already told him she would be.

"What a good girl." He said as his other hand trailer down her back. The slippery friction was delicious. And her obsessive tightness was just what he wanted.

He was steady for her hold around his neck. But she couldn't fuck hard enough on her own. He was going to help her. "Better put it on sport mode." He said to Joe as he filmed and the others hooted at the promise.

Dale grabbed her waist with both hands. He started bouncing her faster on his lap, the lengthy monster inside her impaling her violently upon every impact. She had been a very gracious hostess so far, but he was done with the pregame. His fingers dug into her back and stomach to hold her, and his heels pushed into the floor so he could thrust up. With legs strong enough to kick a man to death, he could lance into her stomach with his cock rather hard. Abby had to take the brutal fucking of being slammed down and being met with his rising cock.

The others groaned at the brutal treatment of the keen girl. The sound of her naked body being beaten up by his was scrumptious to the crowd. "Shit. Looks like she's either going to cum or pass out." Someone commented as the ring of men drew closer to the pair, and Joe was pushed to get closer too, still having to film his girlfriend being destroyed.

 

[Amberyn]

Abby felt a rush of heat to her face when Dale teased her. Considering the only other cock she'd had was Joe's, yes, it was definitely the biggest she'd had. The way he locked eyes with her, cursing softly, when she lowered herself onto him, made her feel a little bit better. She took in every little reaction, savouring the way he swallowed. It amused her that he hadn't expected that, and she cocked her head a little, regarding him steadily as she started to rock herself back and forth. The moment of surprise didn't last for long, his hands grabbing her waist and helping her impale herself.

Her smile widened at his praise, the stroke of his fingers down her back bringing goosebumps to the surface. She had the briefest chance to understand what Dale meant about 'sport mode', and he took control. It was Abby's turn to be surprised, his cock ramming home, driving the breath from her. Her hands slipped from behind his neck to his shoulders, fingers digging in to gain some more stability. There were no thoughts at first, just the overwhelming feel of him filling every inch of her. Abby didn't know when she started moaning, the sounds merging with the sounds of his cock battering her wet pussy.

She'd been fucked hard before, by Joe, or so she thought. This was beyond anything the other man could do, and she wondered if he was thinking the same as he filmed them. That thought made her shudder, her climax growing closer with every thrust. His fingers held her hard enough to bruise, something she was used to. Unlike her boyfriend, though, these felt more like a mark to be proud of, a sign that she was pleasing him rather than the mark of disapproval. She struggled to keep pace with him, his strength and size pushing her to her limits. So close, so close. Someone commented about how she looked, and part of her weakly nodded, her moans now dissolved into pants and the occasional mewling whimper.

Abby ground herself harder against him, chasing her release and crying out when it finally came. She shuddered and tightened around him, his unrelenting thrusts making her blood sing louder. Head flung back, she clung to his shoulders, lost in wave after wave of pleasure. Something broke inside her, and she felt something flood his cock. With a startle, she realised she was squirting, something that had never occurred in all the years she had been with Joe.

 

[Verse]

There was something about her that he couldn't figure out at first. She felt so fresh, and even a bit foreign to all this, despite engaging in it fully. How could she possibly be a novice when she let herself end up in this situation? He was attracted to her strange clarity, almost animal like focus when she watched him - like she was trying to learn him. This wasn't the calloused kind of dismissive stare you'd get from a seasoned and jaded slut. But, as those big eyes drank him in while she started dressing his cock in her slick pussy, he saw it in her. She was new. He didn't know how new, but she certainly wasn't as experienced as her willingness to fuck for her boyfriend's benefit suggested. To be fair, Joe had just enlisted her help to be eye candy, not a whore. She was almost hyper focused on Dale. Whereas the other girls who got paid for it, or did it for any other reason than to get off, couldn't wait to simply look away and disassociate. Abby here couldn't be more in the moment.

That's why it was such a delicious thing to pull her out of it. All that laser like focus dimmer in her pretty face when he helped her. The violence he wrought on her body took her over. If she was new to this, then he'd give her a crash course. He scoffed with some teasing judgement when she lost herself to the sensation of his cock. What a perfect toy she was. A girl this pretty should have a rather high body count, but she clocked in as inexperienced. That didn't buy her any mercy from Dale. New or not, she existed to be slick friction around his cock, and he'd use her like that. Her noises were beautiful. She got fucked well.

The vigor in the song she sang lessened, beaten out of her with the fervency with which he gouged out her pussy. It was lovely to hear, among the noises of their bodies hitting against each other. Her little nod was adorable. Did she even understand what was happening? His strength was doing a number on her, but she took it rather well. She was getting closer, his stabbing cock made sure of it. He didn't slow down even when she acted as though she'd come undone.

When he pushed her over the edge, Dale even thrust harder into her, cruelly. They all gasped in surprise when the beautiful whore came. The stream of liquid to accompany her obvious pleasure was rather showy. After Dale had inhaled for it, he smiled, greedy.

He looked into the lens and at Joe. The boyfriend and designated cameraman was gawking, which meant this was also a first to him. Dale chuckled and tossed her almost cruelly to the side so she landed on the couch, ass up and face down. His cock flopped free from her drenched pussy. He followed and had one knee on the couch and the other leg out, foot on the floor. With a hard grip on her hips he penetrated her again from behind. He knew where to find her pleasure inside her now, and pursued it relentless, fucking her raw. He kept hold of her hip with one hand and the other twisted in her hair to carne her neck and made her look out at the room, so the others could see her face when she got fucked hard even though she'd already cum, and so the phone Joe was holding could also catch her expressions and sounds.

"So you're a little fountain, huh?" He said to everyone's amusement, cock going into her at this new angle, aiming at the depth their other position had revealed to be her weakness. "That's a neat party trick. But good girls can go more than once." Whether they want to or not. He tugged a little harder at her hair to get more leverage as he stuffed her cunt with his raging cock. "Be a good girl." He hissed as his own pleasure mounted.

Most of the onlookers has already forgotten about the cucked boyfriend having to immortalize his girlfriend's fucking session on digital memory, but one of them happened to glance over at Joe. He put his hand on Joe's shoulder, aghast as he listened to the beating Abby was subject to, from where he stood he could see her on the phone screen. "Shit, Joe. Your girl is being fucking destroyed." He breathed.