My friend Marie has always been the kind of girl who caused trouble. You know the type. The one who flirts with sleazy guys she has no intention of bringing home, sometimes for the attention, and sometimes because she's just bored. The girl who wheedles you into doing just one more shot even though you know you've had your limit. The one who tells you that you totally don't look slutty in that dress, and tells you that you should probably shimmy the neckline down a little to show a little bit more cleavage. The one who tells everyone when you're not wearing panties under your dress, after she was the one who convinced you to go without in the first place.



And I have always been the straight-laced one. Or at least the one with good intentions. I always have one too many buttons buttoned to be flirty. My skirt is always a little too long to be considered slutty. I'm a little too cute, a little too well-behaved, and a little too vanilla for my own good. Or so she says anyway. Secretly, I think she likes it. Likes seeing me all put together beside her, if only because she likes to ruffle my feathers.



We'd decided to go out on our usual Friday night outing. We alternate who gets to pick the locale each week. My weeks tend to be places I feel safe, or places I think I'll be safe. Low key nights at the local wine café. Dancing all night long at a drag queen bar. Places I know that I'll be comfortable, if only because the focus won't be on me.



Tonight was one of Marie's nights though. And safety or blending in aren't concerns of hers. She picks places she thinks we'll stand out. And she always dresses accordingly. Tonight was no different. A little red abbreviation of a dress- too short to fully hide the bottom curve of her ass, too low cut to hide the top of her little strapless black bra, and too clingy to hide the fact that she was wearing a tiny little thong to match. This was shocking, given her predilection for going without.



I'd finally acquiesced and let her make me over for this particular outing. We're nowhere near the same size- her being tall and willowy, the kind of girl who makes you hate her in high school. And I'm five three. Short. Curvy. Big messy curly hair, and burdened with the adjective "cute" instead of "hot." So, she couldn't exactly bring me something to wear. Riffling through my closet, she'd sighed and bitched about my serious lack of clubbing attire before finally picking through my lingerie drawer and selecting a pretty little polka dotted corset I'd bought on a whim and then never worn for anybody. I'd complained that I wasn't the kind of girl who wore lingerie out in public, but she'd bitched and moaned until I compromised for the corset with a little black tailored jacket. My shortest skirt, (still a good two inches longer than Marie's, mind you) went underneath it, with the matching panties, a garter belt, and stockings. The crazy high heels I had in the very back of my closet were slipped on, and she pulled out my make-up case to give me smoky eyes, and then pushed me out the door without letting me look in the mirror.



The club she picked was not somewhere I'd have chosen. It was loud, and dirty, and obnoxious. And of course, she loved it. She was already off twirling away with some random guy she'd met, and I was nervously perched on a barstool, sipping my White Russian and secretly hoping she got bored enough to be entertaining soon. The two of us probably stuck out like sore thumbs. We both looked polished, put together, deliberate, and this place was kinda trashy. Lowly lit, a crowd of sweaty dancers on the floor, everyone wearing ripped jeans and band t-shirts. Marie looked like some kind of high price hooker, and I can't imagine I looked much better.



I hadn't been sitting there long when you walked up. Not the most attractive guy I'd ever met, but hot enough to make me nervous. Loose jeans, band t-shirt, kinda rumpled. You fit in here. You were tall- probably above six foot, but really anyone taller than me seems six foot to me. I'm a horrible judge of height. You ordered a beer, and rested against the bar next to me, close enough that I imagined I could feel the heat radiating off of your body. Close enough certainly that I could smell you. A little tangy, musky odor- probably from the dancing. Sweaty, but not in a gross way. I didn't think the closeness was deliberate- just you stealing space in a crowded bar. I turned away a little, trying to distance myself from you a little, and then I felt the rush of your breath against my neck. "Another drink?"



Polite, I think. And I let you buy me one, thinking I'll be able to sip it until Marie's bored enough to bring mischief my way. But you order us both shots, before tugging me out onto the floor.



Have I mentioned I'm not a dancing in crowds kind of girl? I never know where it's okay to put my hands. But you're bossy enough to make my shyness work. You wrap one of my hands around your neck, and tug me into you, your hands starting on the small of my back, but quickly migrating so that one is cupping my upper thigh, wrapped tightly around the bare strip of flesh between the stockings and my panties. Your body is wrapped tightly around mine, and I can't tell if I'm blushing because of the closeness of your body, or if the liquor is finally hitting my system. I shiver when I feel the brush of someone's hand against my spine. I stiffen, and recognize Marie's voice in my ear.



"I brought us another round", she cheerfully announces.



Four shots in, your body is still teasing mine. I'm past my usual two drink regimen a long way, and my whole body feels flushed. Marie is spinning around us, occasionally dancing with other guys, occasionally grinding against the two of us. But always hovering close, which is a bit unusual. Somewhere in the course of the evening I've lost my jacket. Normally I'd be upset about this, but I can't find it in me to care because I'm having so much fun. Absently, I notice you've steered me towards the back corner of the club, near the little hallway with the phone booths and the bathrooms.



"I think we need privacy," you growl in my ear, before tugging me towards the little hallway. I look for Marie for a minute, but she's not within sight anymore, and when I feel your teeth scraping along the part of my neck where my throat meets my shoulder, I forget about finding her to tell her where I'm going.



You push me into the bathroom, and it's surprisingly not as gross as I'd expected. Not super clean, but not so gross you're afraid to sit on the little couch or anything. You sit down and tug me on top of you so that I'm straddling your lap, a knee on either side of your hips and you run your hands up to cup my ass beneath my skirt as you wrap a hand in my hair and crush my mouth to yours, licking and sucking at it like you're going to devour me. There's none of the teasing from the dance floor left in either of us and I make hungry little sounds in the back of my throat and squirm in your lap, acting way sluttier with you than I ever have with anyone before, let alone a stranger. You get me so worked up; I'm practically begging you for it when the door pops open and Marie walks in with another guy.



And realistically? I should have expected this. Because Marie isn't somebody you leave alone for long without her picking up a guy. But she just waves, and tugs the guy by his shirt over to the row of sinks, boosting herself up onto one of them and wraps her arms around his neck and starts to make out with him.



I'm kind of frozen there on your lap for a little bit, before you tug my mouth down to yours and I find my brain all muddled again. I can't resist falling into your kisses again, and I find myself digging my fingernails into your back, and then I feel heat against my back, and I think it's Marie for a minute, but I realize this is someone much bigger than her. And I twist to look and it's the guy she was with, sliding his hands into the cups of my corset to tease my tits. I'm shocked and look past him to see Marie still sitting on the sink, waving at me and giggling a little.



You nip at my ear and I hear your gravelly voice tease. "Marie said you're a bad girl. And bad girls need to be punished."



I squeak.



I squeak, and I spin back around to see you grinning at me. And if I were really drunk? This would be a bad situation. But honestly? Yeah, I'm sober enough to know what I'm doing. And this is kinda hot. Naughty, and wrong but kind of crazy hot.



The guy at my back moves a little and you push me down on my back on the little couch, my head dangling over the edge, and you unsnap my garters and tug my little panties down my legs, exposing my smoothly waxed little pussy. I've been grinding like crazy against the bulge in your jeans, so you have to know I'm wet. But you tease at my little slit and slide two fingers in just once to feel how much I'm dripping already. My big brown eyes are locked on yours as you slide those fingers out, and rub them across my lips, before slipping them in to my mouth so I can suck at them and taste my juices. You place your hand behind my neck, and I think you're going to pull me up so you can kiss me, but you're positioning my neck so that my head is tugged back as far as it will go, and I can see the other guy standing at the edge of the couch, rubbing the bulge in his pants with the heel of his hand. And you start to bite and tease my breasts, my eyes closing for a moment as I'm lost in the sensation, but I open them as I hear the clink of a belt buckle, and he's tugging the zipper of his pants down. I feel like I should protest, but you grumble in my ear again "Bad girls get fucked like the filthy little sluts they are."



I gasp, and then I feel his cock against my lips. Not completely hard, but getting there, and clearly eager to have my pretty little rosebud of a mouth wrapped around his cock. And without even meaning to, I found my tongue flicking out to taste him. To swipe against the head of his cock and when he groans I open my mouth for him, letting him thrust shallowly inside.



I hear the clanging of your belt and squirming. The cock in my mouth is hot. But yours is the one I've been wanting all night. I feel your knuckles graze against my wet little center as you unzip your fly, and I moan, and I feel the guy above me buck more forcefully against my lips as the little sound reverberates through his dick. The head of you, already dripping a little with precum, slides against my cunt, the lips of my pussy spreading around it, and you just tease me with it at first. Dragging it up and down, letting me feel it throb against me, before you work it inside me, pumping a few times, making me moan around the dick that is desperately trying to work its way into my throat, and gush around the one filling my pussy. I whimper a little as you pull out, your cock wet with me and I want you back inside me. But you just start to slide against my wet little slit again, and I'm confused until I feel you adjust my legs so they're looped over your shoulders and I'm rolled so that most of my weight is resting on my upper back, and your hand is teasing at the entrance to my ass. And I moan louder, and squirm, but you remind me what happens to bad girls again. And I have to admit that although it hurts, it feels good too. And you're going slow. Teasing me with one of your fingers wet from my pussy, stretching my tight little hole. And then you nudge the head of your cock against me, and start working inside. Nice, and slow, my tight little channel squirming against you, tugging you inside, and the guy above me? Isn't going to last long. Not with me moaning around him as his cock is deep in my throat, choking me. He starts to roughly knead one of my breasts. Tweaking at the little nipple, before just grabbing it, and I know that when I go back out to the club there will be red marks showing above my corset. Before you've even worked yourself all the way into my ass, he's coming in my mouth, and you're smirking at me as he wipes it against my cheek, leaving a shiny little trail of come against my cheek.



I remember Marie and turn to the side, embarrassed that she's watched me like this and see that she's still on the sink, with her legs spread, and she's got her fingers buried in her pussy, fucking her hand, and she's pulled one breast out above her dress to play with it. And I realize that all her years of teasing me to be naughtier hasn't just been because she thought it was funny to watch me squirm. It's because she gets off on watching it. But before I have time to think about that, about how frustrated she must have been waiting for me to finally give in, you're grunting and thrusting balls deep into my ass. Your staring down into my face, my lips still wet with the other man's come, and I can't even speak any more. Can just squirm beneath you and act like your needy little whore. Filthy, and depraved, and I've never been so hot. I hear Marie start to moan louder, more eagerly, as she enjoys the show, and you're sweating, dripping down into my face and you bite my neck and slide your hand to my pussy, teasing it, thrusting two fingers inside as you grind your thumb into my clit, and I start to come. Coming harder than I ever remember, the muscles of my stomach contracting to the point of pain, feeling a wet gush as I squirt all over your fingers. Drenching your hand as I feel you pistoning into me and before long, you're coming. Spurting hot inside my ass as you slow down and buck into me, longer, slower thrusts. And then collapse against me for a few moments, tired. Your head against my naked tits, still buried in my ass, panting as I lay beneath you, my lungs gasping for air, and we hear Marie crying out, coming all over her pretty, slender fingers.



I go through the rest of the evening in a daze. She makes me go out and dance for awhile longer before we take a cab home. And I convince myself that no one knows. That nobody can tell how I've broken my good girl behavior for good. That no one can see that I'm not wearing panties anymore, because you tucked them into your back pocket and smirked when I tried to get them back. But when I get home later that night, I see a little white smear on the back of my black skirt.