Jessi

 

It was another Saturday night, and I was back at the Hounds of Hades clubhouse. I knew I shouldn't be there, and especially not when Dad seemed to have realized that I had snuck out the last weekend to meet Rip. But at the same time, I couldn't help myself. I was a fly drawn to the bright light.

 

The bouncer at the door recognized me when I nervously crossed the street, and he let me inside without my having to say anything. I blushed a little as I passed him, realizing that from where he was standing, he must have been able to hear every moment of Rip's and my fucking the previous weekend.

 

The thought turned me on in ways that I couldn't even begin to describe.

 

I looked around the smoky bar, hoping desperately that Rip would be there again that night. Because if he wasn't, what was I going to do? Sure, I knew another couple guys from the club as they'd been in the shop to get work done on their bikes, but that didn't mean that I felt comfortable hanging out with any of them. And I could feel some Hollywood horror lurking in the back of my mind, insisting that the other guys in the club probably already knew what Rip had done to me the previous weekend and that they would want to do the same things to me as well.

 

So it was a relief when my eyes found Rip. He was sitting back at a different table this time, surrounded by guys, rather than being alone with some busty woman. I was a bit surprised, but it also made me wonder if I was intruding. Maybe he had something important going on that night and he wouldn't have time for me.

 

Maybe I should have messaged him first, before just showing up in the clubhouse.

 

One of Rip's buddies tapped him on the shoulder and pointed over to me, and I stood, caught like a deer in the headlights. It was too late to flee.

 

Rip looked surprised to see me there, but he didn't look unhappy. He turned back, said something to his friends, and then stood up, coming across the room towards me. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he asked, a dangerously predatory smirk on his face.

 

I swallowed hard, not even sure what to say to him.

 

And Rip frowned, looking fierce. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did that bastard Ellsmith do something to you?”

 

I shook my head and realized that I needed to find some sort of verbal answer or else he wouldn't know which of those questions I was answering. I cleared my throat, which somehow felt rusty from disuse. “I'm fine,” I told him thickly. “Really, Rip, I'm fine. It has nothing to do with Gary. I just...” I trailed off. I just what? Wanted him to take me out into the alley and repeat what he had done to me the other night?

 

“Come on, let's sit down. I'll get you a drink,” Rip said, nudging me over towards the corner that we'd occupied the previous Saturday night. I wondered if that was his spot with all his women, but realized I didn't want to know.

 

After a few minutes, Rip came back and set a drink down in front of me. “All right,” he said, sitting down across from me, rather than next to me. I frowned a little, missing the warmth of his arm slung over my shoulders or the way that our thighs had pressed together before. The rejection stung a little, until I heard what he was saying.

 

“Jessi, I like you, okay, but I'm not a dating kind of guy.”

 

I snorted and shook my head. “And thank fuck for that, Rip,” I said. I shook my head. “Honestly, I shouldn't even be here. I shouldn't have let you...” I shuddered a little, remembering the things that I had let him do to me. Things that I would happily have him do to me again, if I had the chance.

 

“So why are you here?” Rip asked.

 

“Guys aren't the only ones who need to let off some steam sometimes,” I informed him, tossing my hair a little, trying to appear nonchalant about this whole thing. But that bravado only lasted so long. I ducked my head and looked up at him through my eyelashes. “I was kind of hoping for a repeat performance.”

 

Rip looked consideringly at me and then smiled sharply, showing his teeth. “I don't do repeat performances,” he told me. “But I'd consider a different sort of fuck. Get up.”

 

I stood up hesitantly and let him lead me over to the other table. He didn't bother introducing me, though. In fact, it was as though I didn't even exist anymore, except that he still had a hand pressed warmly against my shoulder, guiding me along.

 

He slid back into his seat, and with the hand still on my shoulders—which was now pressing down hard, digging into my skin—he pushed me down to my knees, guiding me forwards under the table in front of him. I blinked around me, wondering just what I was doing there, when it suddenly became obvious.

 

I watched in fascination as Rip's hands deftly undid his fly, pulling his thick cock free of its confines. He was already half-hard, as though he'd been waiting for me, and I licked me lips a little, realizing that he meant for me to taste him like this—down under the table, surrounded by all his friends. There was something so naughty about that.…

 

I could feel my own panties growing slick with every twist of my hand against his soft skin. By the time I brought the tip of his penis to my lips, I was already pretty desperate to get off as well, and I couldn't keep myself from fingering my clit under my skirt, through the flimsy, sheer mesh of my panties.

 

I put my mouth around Rip, tentatively swirling my tongue around his head and pressing lightly at the slit so that I could taste his pearly drops of precum. But my gentle explorations didn't last long. Rip's hand came down around the back of my head, forcing me down further, until I was practically choking on his length. I felt tears sting my eyes, and I wasn't sure if it was from the choking or from feeling so dirty, down under there. All his friends had to know what we were doing.

 

And I liked this.

 

For a moment, my own pleasure spiked, and I couldn't help but moan around Rip's rod, glad that the sound was at least partially muffled by his flesh. But I wondered if everyone above us could hear me, if they heard the slick sounds of my mouth moving in a frenzy against him.

 

Even if they couldn't hear those signs—when I sucked hard against his heat and fluttered my tongue across the thick vein at the underside of his prick, I heard him falter a little in whatever he was saying, and I heard one of the other guys laugh and clap him on the shoulder.

 

But Rip didn't get up and bring me somewhere else, like any sane person might have. Instead, he stayed right there, his hand now stroking gently through my hair.

 

It was all suddenly too much for me, and with my mouth still wrapped around Rip's cock, I came, shuddering hard as wave after wave of pleasure hit me right down in my core. My panties were practically soaked with my desperate juices, but I could hardly think about that now. I could tell from the way that Rip's balls were pulling up tight that he was getting close.

 

I played with his sac a little and continued plying my lips around his length, even though I knew that I was getting a bit sloppy in my post-orgasmic haze. But Rip didn't seem to mind as long as I kept furiously bobbing my head back and forth along his member, showing him the attention that he deserved. It wasn't long before he was coming as well, shooting seed deep down my throat.

 

When he had spent himself entirely, I pulled back a little, resting my head against his knee, feeling suddenly exhausted and sated in ways that I could hardly explain. Rip's hand came up to tangle in my hair, his fingernails lightly scratching my scalp, and I felt a rush of warmth.

 

I wasn't sure exactly what we were doing, but I definitely wasn't going to argue when Rip finally pulled me up from under the table and grinned at me, telling me that we should do this again sometime. I still felt a little dazed, so I didn't complain when he walked me outside to call me a cab.