She called herself Andi Heart, and I knew it was a lie the second it left her mouth. We were in the supply room behind the bar—door locked, lights low, the buzz of her fake ID still warm in my pocket. She dropped her jacket, nothing underneath but skin and attitude. Nipples hard from the cold metal door against her back. I had my hand between her legs before she finished saying my name. She was wet already. Dripping down my fingers. I shoved two inside her and she gasped, hips jerking like she’d been waiting all night. She grabbed my belt, yanked it open, freed my cock with both hands. Stroked me hard, thumb sliding over the head, spreading the bead of precum that had already leaked out. Her skirt was bunched at her waist. No panties. I turned her around, bent her over the crates, kicked her feet apart. She moaned when I pushed inside her—raw, no rubber, just heat and friction and the sound of skin slapping skin. Her cunt gripped me tight, slick and pulsing. I fucked her hard, one hand on her hip, the other fisted in her hair. She came quick, knees buckling, gasping my name like it was a secret. I didn’t stop. Kept driving into her until she was shaking, whimpering, pushing back for more. I pulled out and came on her ass, thick ropes across her skin, marking her. She looked over her shoulder, lips parted, eyes glassy. Andi Heart. I’d still fuck her again. Even knowing it was fake.
She called herself Andi Heart, and I knew it was a lie the second it left her mouth. We were in the supply room behind the bar—door locked, lights low, the buzz of her fake ID still warm in my pocket. She dropped her jacket, nothing underneath but skin and attitude. Nipples hard from the cold metal door against her back. I had my hand between her legs before she finished saying my name. She was wet already. Dripping down my fingers. I shoved two inside her and she gasped, hips jerking like she’d been waiting all night. She grabbed my belt, yanked it open, freed my cock with both hands. Stroked me hard, thumb sliding over the head, spreading the bead of precum that had already leaked out. Her skirt was bunched at her waist. No panties. I turned her around, bent her over the crates, kicked her feet apart. She moaned when I pushed inside her—raw, no rubber, just heat and friction and the sound of skin slapping skin. Her cunt gripped me tight, slick and pulsing. I fucked her hard, one hand on her hip, the other fisted in her hair. She came quick, knees buckling, gasping my name like it was a secret. I didn’t stop. Kept driving into her until she was shaking, whimpering, pushing back for more. I pulled out and came on her ass, thick ropes across her skin, marking her. She looked over her shoulder, lips parted, eyes glassy. Andi Heart. I’d still fuck her again. Even knowing it was fake.