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Image for the poem Dark Thrill at the Capital Grille

Dark Thrill at the Capital Grille

 
“There she goes again.”  
 
“What?”  Sam looked at me innocently, sipping his whiskey with the last bite of steak.  
 
“You know what.”  I kicked him playfully beneath the table and regarded him slyly.  “That’s the third time she’s flashed you in less than five minutes, and that wimp sitting across from her is totally oblivious.”  
 
“Fia, I’ve no idea what you’re on about.”  
 
“Panties or commando?” I asked, glaring into his green eyes.  
 
“Commando.”  
 
“Guilty as charged,” I smirked.  “Muff or smooth.”  
 
“Definitely smooth.”  
 
“Wanna fuck her?”  Sam nodded as she headed for the restroom with her clutch.  “Same modus operandi?”   Sam nodded again.  “I’m getting about tired of girls coming on to you in restaurants.”  
 
“And you would have me do what about that?”  
 
“Be rough with her,” I hissed.  “Make it worth my while.”  I marched off to the lady’s room in a huff, discovering her applying lip gloss in the mirror.  
 
“You want to flash your bald cunt at my man one more time?”  The other women in the room charged the door in a panic, certain there was going to be trouble.  They were right.  
 
“I’m sorry?”  The little princess acted bewildered.  
 
“Don’t act dumb with me, bitch.  You know what you were doing.”  
 
“What was I doing?”  

I backed her up into the corner, simultaneously signaling Sam on my cell that the facility was clear. “Let me help you with this dress,” I advised, ripping the sheer fabric as I jerked down her top, exposing small adolescent appearing breasts.  I grabbed her tiny nipple and twisted.  She winced and leaned over, trying to escape. “Scream, and I’ll punch your pretty face.  You want to tell me now that you weren’t flashing my date?”  
 
“No, I’m sorry,” she whimpered, weakly grabbing my wrist.  I reached over and twisted her other nipple as Sam finally wandered in, securing the door after posting an ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign.  
 
“About time you arrived,” I barked impatiently.  “I was just discussing with little missy here how she’s going to get fucked like a whore… isn’t that right, Sam?  What’s your name again, princess?”  
 
“Megan,” she whispered, arms crossing her chest.  
 
“Ah yes.  Megan had a little outfit malfunction.  Lower your arms to your sides and show Sam what happened.  It seems they don’t make dresses like they used to.”  I grabbed the top and ripped it further until the dress was hanging loosely around her hips.  “Slide it off and step out, Megan.  Your mother should have taught you to wear undies.”  
 
                                                                                                                 ***  
 
Moments later, Megan was pinned, her back shoved against the wall, thighs raised in a ‘V’, flatly pressed to Sam’s abdomen and chest.  He pounded her pink snatch like a jackhammer, her head pummeling the sheetrock as I fingered her aptly exposed anus.  Megan, unconscious, slumped slowly to the floor where I kicked her legs wide apart. Sam’s semen spilled out her splayed pussy on the tile.  
 
“You suppose they’ve brought our dessert?” I chuckled.  
 
 
(V for Vixen)
Written by DampKitten
Published | Edited 22nd May 2024
Author's Note
Offering for Fia's Karma Sutra 2 Story Contest
500 words (Prose)
V is for Vixen (position)
Menacing account of jealousy, revenge, and public sex in a restaurant restroom
Hold on to your Highballs  
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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