Part Three: No Shame, Just Us

By the time we left the bar, you were already soaked again. I could see it in the way you walked — legs tight, breath shallow, body wound like a spring about to snap. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t need to.

I took you down the alley next to the parking lot. Half-lit. Dirty. Dangerous.

I shoved you against the hood of a car, one hand in your hair, the other pulling your dress up to your waist. No one was around — but they could be. Any second now, a door could open, a passerby could turn the corner.

And that made it hotter.

“You want to be used out here?” I said, voice low, cock already rock hard in my jeans. “Where anyone could see what a filthy little thing you are?”

You looked over your shoulder, lips parted, and nodded. “Yes. Use me.”

I didn’t wait.

I pulled my cock free and slid it into you in one hard thrust, slamming your hips against the metal. You cried out — sharp, breathless — and I slapped my hand over your mouth.

“Shhh,” I hissed. “You don’t get to scream yet.”

The car creaked beneath us with every thrust. My hand gripped your throat from behind, holding you still while I fucked you — no rhythm, no mercy — just raw, animal need.

“I should leave you here dripping,” I growled, “so the next guy who walks by can see what a used little slut you are.”

You clenched around me, soaking me even more. That idea… it broke something in you. You wanted it. Needed it.

I pulled out suddenly, spun you around, and sat on the car hood. “Ride me,” I commanded. “Let the whole fucking world see what happens when you beg for cock in public.”

You climbed on, straddled me, and slid down onto my cock like you couldn’t live without it. You bounced on me hard, arms around my neck, body grinding against mine as headlights passed by on the street behind us.

We didn’t stop.

You rode me faster, breasts bouncing, moaning into my ear. Every second, the risk grew — voices in the distance, a car door slamming, footsteps echoing down the alley. But you didn’t care. You were lost. Owned. Mine.

“Let them see,” I growled. “Let them fucking watch you fall apart on my cock.”

You came again — loud, messy, trembling in my arms as your pussy milked me with brutal, uncontrollable spasms. And that was it — I grabbed your hips and slammed you down hard as I came inside you, growling your name, teeth on your neck, hands gripping so tight you’d feel me for days.

We stayed there for a long moment — breathing, slick, ruined — while the world kept moving around us.

And when you climbed off, legs shaking, dress clinging to your soaked thighs, I zipped up, took your hand, and whispered:

“Next time… we won’t bother leaving the restaurant.”