The Easy – Guest Fiction

Image courtesy of Sergio Alves Santos on Unsplash

This piece of erotic fiction needs a content warning because it depicts the use of a date-rape drug / substance abuse diminishing the ability to give consent. The subject matter makes the plot particularly chilling

The Easy – Bram Stroker

The drinks were lined up along the length of the bar. Beer, wine, spirits, more beer. Each glass seemingly overfilled as they puddled in the contents of their own overspill on the onyx black surface. People swarmed around, bodies crushed against others, a frenzied attempt for service.

 

The syringe was small and nobody noticed as it was gripped above the drinking vessels. Inside, the swirling content snaked like a 70’s lava lamp. A clear yet noticeable iridescence. A thumb pressed hard, injecting the fluid that dropped gently from the needle.

 

Another globule followed from the hypodermic tip. The music boomed and the dancing intensified. She collected her cocktail glass and began to drink eagerly from it. She was suddenly aware of their eyes upon her. A cabal of men, younger, older. She was the centre of their attention and she thrilled at it. She walked to the centre of the floor. Her platinum hued mini dress adorned with shimmering, jewel encrusted fabric that reflected the light. Her heels were tall and her legs bare. She was in her 40’s but she owned the room. 

 

Her group had long left as she turned to face her receptive audience. She drank more. They drank more as they encouraged her. Others on the periphery of the dance floor watched her in awe or disgust. Women pulled their partners away from the allure of the centred star. The gin infused drink slid along her throat as she tipped her head, elongating her neck. A little unsteady, her legs parted to brace herself. Her hair unfurled and cascaded auburn between her shoulder blades. The music intensified. The beats per minute increased. 

 

A younger man finished his drink and dropped the glass to the floor, waking her from a reverie. Momentarily the floor parted as he stumbled toward her grabbing her hips and pulling her close to him. He was good looking, cocky, but good looking. His thigh slid between hers as her legs spread over his firm quad. Straightening, she rested her hand on his chest and pressed her crotch against his firmness. Instant reaction. She could feel him growing as she began to slide. 

 

Another man, older, approached from the rear and began to dance closely against her backside. She felt as her dress was pulled and raised a little. Her thong revealed to anyone close enough to notice. And how they noticed. Circling her now, 5, 6 maybe more. A caravan men cornered her. She drank more, the hedonism consuming her. The glint from her finger ring distracted her. They replicated her. Beer, whiskey, gin was consumed ravenously by them. She knew how they wanted her. 

 

She closed her eyes. As she opened them she was in the corridor. Dark, the green exit sign flickering ahead. A group of 10 perhaps. The next recollection was inside the car. She was centred on the back seat, the younger man caressing her breasts as the older one placed his hands between her thighs. She kissed them both intermittently. Tongues deep as she felt the touch of a finger against her breast. 

 

Then she was there. Inside the hotel room. The door closed behind the last man in. She sat on the edge of the bed, her thighs parted as the hem of her skirt lifted to the crotch of her white thong. Her lipstick was smeared and her shoulders exposed. The younger man stood before her and began to unbutton his black shirt. She closed her eyes. He stood before her naked. He was hard and the veins and ridges bulged close to her face. She rode back onto the bed. As she did her dress rose up to her waist. Her thong was wet and fully exposed. 

 

A short rest before she opened her eyes. Naked.

 

All of the men had followed his lead and had removed their clothing that lay strewn across the floor. The older man was on all fours near to the door and she could see as another knelt behind him tonguing at his rim as he milked his cock. Another, 50 years or so, short hair lay next to her upon the bed. His cock was rigid and seeping with cum as two younger teenage men licked feverishly at his balls. 

 

The room had a dizzying aroma of sweat, alcohol and aftershave. She could hear the moans of orgasm emanating from the bathroom. Multiple male voices. She stroked her mound as the visage burned into her psyche. Her cunt was swollen and she pulled the cotton aside feeling the rush of cool air against her warm skin. Her clit was throbbing and as she touched her fingernail there she looked around her room. 

 

The young man was at her feet, crouched as he knelt. He was gripping himself tightly as he worked his foreskin back over his thick shaft. He quickened his thrusts and she followed suit. She saw two men draped over each other on the desk chair in front of the mirror opposite the bed. She watched herself watching them in the stained glazing. 

 

She could sense the wetness dripping along her lips and under her rim. She tightened her cheeks as she raised herself from the mattress. To her left she saw a man take a deep mouthful of cum which sprayed over his face. Like dominoes, one followed another. Sprays of cum showered the room. She fingered harder, biting her lip. Her nipples roared with need as finally the release sprayed from her over the torso of the spent male at her feet. Her cunt trembled as she edged more. 

 

She closed her eyes as she pulled herself up from the mattress in a disorientated haze she feasted on the scene. Each man, naked, lay or sat within the room. Their cocks glistened from the ejaculate that covered the faces or bodies of the others. She smiled. And as she stood from the bed she pulled her dress back into position. She straightened herself and tiptoed toward the mirror between the comatose bodies around her. Bending she tidied herself and wiped the makeup from her face. 

 

She grabbed her sequin-covered clutch bag and opened it, removing her noir lipstick which she perfectly applied. Next she removed her iphone and turned around to photograph each man individually in their own incriminating repose. 

 

She bit her lip as she slipped the phone back into the bag, which she carefully zipped, so as not to prick herself on the tip of the hypodermic needle that sat at its base, the content of which swirled like a serpent in a lava lamp. The door closed behind her and soberly walked the corridor toward the exit of the hotel, her hips swaying as the green door lights illuminated her departure.

 

Why not follow Bram for his fiction on Twitter, which he usually shares via a Tweet thread.

 

Erotic Fiction

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