Obligatory Alleyway

You had me up against the brick wall, but even pressed between you and the abrasive stone, I had more control than you did, I think. Even through the wall, the shitty techno club music was so loud I couldn’t hear the street noise, though the mouth of the dark alley was only yards away. Burying my face in your neck, sucking, biting, I knew you were going to have the most godawful hickey tomorrow. With one forearm against the bricks you supported your weight, leaning into me like your knees were going weak. Your other hand slid through my long red hair, caressing my scalp with your long artist’s fingers while I untucked your faux silk synthetic shirt, running my long nails up and down your smooth back. Maybe I was a little rough, but your grinding hips told me you wanted it right then, whichever way I would give it. Your hand slid down from my hair to my chest, under my shirt to play with my nipples. You thought you had talent, but I felt nothing. Maybe you did have talent; maybe I was the broken one. Am the broken one.

I had just unbuckled your shiny black imitation leather belt and unzipped your fly when your hand descended to my hip, running lightly over my ass before sliding under my skirt to discover my lack of underwear. I think you hesitated for a nanosecond; after all, only those kind of girls don’t wear panties or at least a thong. But your horniness overcame your inhibitions and you probed my hairless sex, rolling the juices around your fingers and playing with my clit before plunging into my cunt. Stiffening, I gave an obligatory moan that you didn’t know was fake. Maybe it wasn’t fake, maybe I did feel something, or at least my body thought it did.

As you delved deeper with your fingers, I pretended to squirm even as I pulled out your dick and oh-so-gently caressed it with my nails. Pulling your hand out from between my legs, I sucked on your fingers, perfectly blowing the miniature phalluses. I turned us around so you had your back to the wall, and sank to my knees, taking you in my mouth, coating your shaft with my saliva and the lingering taste of my own sex. You groaned, and I knew you wouldn’t last long, so I quickly stood and told you to take me from behind as I leaned against the wall. You almost tripped in your haste to get inside me, but such is the hasty world. Pressing your body behind me, you hesitated to do as I asked, and internally I sighed. Reaching behind me with one perfectly manicured hand, I grabbed your dick and guided you into my cunt slowly to let you adjust. You were so gentle, though I think it was nerves rather than concern, and I ordered you to thrust harder, to stop being such a fucking gentleman. You obeyed me quickly, shoving your way into me so that I was slammed up against the wall again and again, in perfect time to that ungodly techno beat. The bricks scraped my face a bit, and I reluctantly pulled my cheek away from that abrasive surface. It wouldn’t do to show up for work with a bandaged face; the rule is that the marks aren’t allowed to show. Last time the marks showed, they didn’t like them. Apparently they don’t see the beauty of purplish skin and reddish-brown dried blood.

You didn’t last long, just as I suspected. Not even long enough to let me orgasm, which was one big black mark against you, but you didn’t have a clue. Just as I suspected. You put yourself back together, zipping up and re-buckling, while I remained against the wall, reveling in the lingering pain. I felt you pause, heard you finish cleaning yourself up, knew you were looking at me.
“Go.” I told you in a flat voice. You drew a breath, probably to ask what was wrong, or some other silly question. “I’m fine. Just go.” I said rather vehemently. You did as told-you’re so good at that-and I stayed there a little longer, thinking in images and pictures because words were too painful.

I didn’t make eye contact with you, didn’t look at your eyes once. I think it frightened you a bit, but that’s the way I wanted it. I fished in my purse for a cigarette and a lighter. I would even have the obligatory after-sex smoke, even if you weren’t here to share it.