Corrupted Again by her Leather Dress [M/F] (Follow-Up) PART 1 | 2016

Due to the positive reception to my last story, I wanted to thank you all with a follow-up. If you missed, “Possessed by her Leather Dress,” I linked it. I highly recommend reading that before as much of what happened there is referenced here, despite this one taking place two and a half years later. I thought that would have been the best story I’d have to share, but I was happy with how this came out as a sequel of sorts. I felt like I couldn't tell it without a lot of build-up, so if that's not your thing, I bolded the first line when things start to get heated. Thanks again for the support, and enjoy:

Reaching the end of four university is a strange experience. The aspirations of getting accepted at the school you want consume your final years of high school and stand on the horizon even further back than that. However, once you’ve finally made it, the four years slip by like a vacation. Some say you only realize how happy you were when you’re looking backward, but all the same the air was tense around every senior I met in the final couple weeks. Everyone seemed to be coming to terms with a quarter-life crisis - solemnly accepting that the grand vacation was over and they would have to find a hole to fill in society as a streamlined, civil adult. Everyone took it differently: some felt the need to binge drink into an oblivion for old time’s sake, some felt the need to try to finally get it in with the girl they had been lusting for after all four years, and some felt the need to get as much time in with their friends as they could before everyone went their separate ways. Coming into my second-to-last night before graduation, I genuinely thought I fell into that third camp.

“Are all the boxes coming down?” I called out down the stairs. “Yep, I’m packing everything other than my bed and dresser.” Victoria returned. I squatted down to pick up a weathered old box of books. Looking to be efficient, I tossed a smaller box on top. As I looked it over, I noticed the smaller box was covered in what appeared to be handmade decorations: a skull and crossbones, a thorny rose, and all sorts of other images from all over the spectrum. Not paying it much mind, I wandered out to Victoria. “Toss ‘em in the trunk,” Victoria said with her head buried in the back seat of her beat-up white sedan, trying to make everything fit.

As I wedged the books in the trunk, I heard Victoria laugh to herself, “You brought my sex box!” Unfazed, I responded, “Ha, sorry. Didn’t mean to cross a line there, just grabbing what was around.” Victoria rolled her eyes, “It’s not a sex TOY box. It’s my sex box. I keep mementos from every guy I ever slept with at school,” she pulled open the box and I saw half a dozen or so of varied trinkets; mostly clothes. On top I saw a sweater that had belonged to her long term boyfriend, Jon, who I hadn’t seen since March. I heard her laugh to herself and pull out a baseball cap. Jokingly she pulled it onto her head. “Guess who this is from?”

I gestured to the logo on the hat, “Seeing as though I don’t know a single Expos fan, I’m going to have to give up.”

“It was Luther’s. Luther Moss.”

I couldn’t hold it in, “You got with Luther Moss?”

“Don’t laugh!” She said through a laugh, “You know how I’m weak for painters. Plus he gave really good head, so no regrets are had.”

“I can’t believe that guy was able to think about anything other than his canvas for more than a few minutes,” I chuckled and looked up at her still wearing the hat, “I also can’t believe he gave you that hat, it’s a fitted New Era and everything.”

“Well, not everything in this box was a gift,” she tossed the hat back in, “Some of it was borrowed indefinitely. Some of it was straight up stolen. Have to keep good records, you know.”

Victoria made her way into the house to grab another load as I pushed Luther’s hat into the box and began to close the flaps. Laughing once more at the thought of Luther being an attentive lover, I gave into my curiosity and reopened the box, curious what other mementos my friend had swiped. I sifted through the sentimental sweaters and t-shirts of boyfriends past, as well as a flask and a pair of sunglasses that could have proven a bit more short lived. As off-kilter as it was, I found myself impressed with Victoria’s box: keeping something material from an event that would have otherwise lived exclusively as a memory. As I went to situate everything the way it was left, a piece of black fabric caught my eye. I fished around for a bit before coming up with a black masquerade mask. My heart nearly leapt from my chest. It was my mask. Clear as day. I had made it myself and recognized the mistakes in its construction that took place years ago. I cradled the mask in my hands, before my memory rushed back to me. Images of the last time I wore it flooded into my head. “The last I was looking through this, Victoria was obediently sucking me off,” I thought. The memory of her dark-red painted lips wrapped tightly around my cock while she moaned with excitement steamrolled through my consciousness.

Everything about that night was forbidden. Two and a half years and not a word about it was exchanged between Victoria or myself. For months after I was on edge that it would get out. I was worried that my friends would find out, worried that Victoria would feel differently about me and the friendship would be over. At one point I was even worried that Victoria would tell her new boyfriend about it and due to a breakup it would leak out. Regardless, we were able to paint a picture that it never happened. The second I got home from her room that Halloween night, I stuffed the mask out of sight, out of mind. I never thought of it again; I thought of Victoria’s breasts spilling out of her dress while I rammed into her against the dresser while she cried out in ecstasy, but granted that was only in moments of weakness. Victoria and I had gotten away with it. We were friends as usual, I never treated her differently, I never thought of her again in that way, and we had even all moved in together as friends for the last few semesters. Apparently while we were casually hanging out sometime in the last two years, something tickled her memory and stimulated her to steal the mask. Something made her want to remember a night that “never happened.” She wanted me in her “sex box.”

I heard the front door creak as Victoria fumbled her way out with another box. Unable to avoid suspicion by returning the mask to the box, I jammed it into my pocket, and shoved the box back into the trunk. “Still got some more stuff upstairs, man,” Victoria grunted under the weight of the box.

“Oh, sorry, I got a crazy text from Amber and got all distracted” I invented.

“That whore?” Victoria joked to me as she lowered the box in the car.

I laughed back, and she gave me a soft punch on the arm. Amber had been my girlfriend most of the last year. Other than her and Victoria occasionally butting heads, we had a lot of fun. A couple weeks prior to this story, Amber had cheated on me, and despite her protests that it wouldn’t happen again, I saw no value in staying in a relationship where I’d feel like that would constantly loom over our heads. Plus, college was over. It would take a lot of work to keep our dying relationship alive even if we were still living in the same town. “You won’t have to worry about ‘that whore’ anymore,” I said back to Victoria.

“Oh, I know you broke up with her, but has she broken up with you yet?” Victoria mocked.

Amber claimed that our relationship was salvageable. She emphatically noted that we weren’t broken up, even after I bluntly told her we weren’t together anymore. “I don’t know why she’s clinging on,” I started, “but she says we’re still together.”

“Bitch is crazy,” Victoria laughed, “She used to think she ran this house, ordering you and Chris and Howie around. I think it’s pretty obvious the only person that tells you boys what to do is me!” I smiled as she continued, “There’s no man on earth more patient than you, Lou. I’ll tell you that much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you angry. Or out of control. Anything. You’re just always going with the flow.”

I felt the mask in my pocket. The last time I wore that I was definitely out of control - hell, a bit angry at what her dress was doing to me, even. All the same, I was happy to hear her not take that night into account.

For the next couple hours we continued to pack up the house. Both our roommates gone, (Howie spending the night at his boyfriend’s place, which comically enough was the body-painted guy from the first story, and Chris back at his parents’ house for the night unloading his first batch of stuff) we figured we’d keep it low key in the evening, the big festivities coming tomorrow - our last night as college students.

“I need a drink!” Victoria announced on the way down from her room.

“Finished?” I asked.

“More or less. Either way, I need to unwind. All of this ‘college is over’ stuff is getting me stressed. So what do we have left?” Victoria asked herself as she began opening and closing various cabinets, “Damn, this place is empty,” Victoria reached for the small cabinet above our microwave, standing on her tip-toes, extending her arm as far back as it could. She groped around for a while before hearing the familiar ‘ting’ of her ring on glass. What she brought down with her made my hair stand on end. “Ah, Howie’s tequila.” Victoria discovered.

“We can’t drink that!” I defensively spat out.

“Relax, Howie said it was fair game months ago. No one’s touched it I guess.” Victoria dismissed it as she pulled off the top of the bottle.

The smell of tequila quickly whirled around the room. As its sharp and distinct smell reached me, my mind conjured up images of Victoria in nothing but a pair of thigh-high fishnets gasping for air. It was the last time, and with good reason, I drank tequila. “Whatever gets the job done,” Victoria shrugged, “I think the only shot glasses left are in my room.”

Cautiously I spoke, “I-I’m good. Tequila seems like a bad idea.”

“Oh come on, you’re gonna leave your friend drinking alone on the second-to-last night of college?”

“I’m just not really feeling up to it.”

“Yeah, right! You’re always the first person to head out with me when I want to go to the bars. You’re the first person to have a drink with me when I break up with one of my weeping boyfriends. Hell, whenever class is cancelled or some shit, you’re always the one fixing me a celebratory drink,” Victoria’s logic was sound. She continued, “Come on, we’re taking a shot of this tequila. Together.”

Bottle in hand, she marched up to her room. More often than not, Victoria called the shots in the friend group, and most of the time she leads us somewhere fun. I could do a shot with Victoria and nothing would come of it, no need to act strangely. Three Halloweens ago was something different entirely, I was acting as though I had no free will. As we make it into Victoria’s now barren room, I groan, “One shot. I’m down for one shot.”

“Ha, knew it!” Victoria laughed before rifling around in a drawer and grabbing two shot glasses. One was a double-shot glass which she filled to the top. Unsurprisingly she gave me the double. “I said one shot, this is clearly a double,” I complained.

“I see one glass. One glass, one shot,” Victoria snickered, “Plus, it’s all I’ve got.”

I took the shot in my right hand, its smell again penetrating my subconscious. This time, images of Victoria’s body in the stark light of the elevator. The leather painted on her body acting as a visual pheromone as I devoured every inch of her with my eyes. The way the leather met her creamy white skin, and how only moments from then I would give in - seeing so much more of it. I struggled to come back down to earth. Victoria raised her shot glass, “Alright! Here’s to us. May our friendship never burn out, even if we’ll soon be on other sides of the country.”

“Agreed, friends for four years, here’s to forty more!”

We both smiled, and Victoria quickly took her whole shot in, swallowing it down hard. Remembering that it will only be one shot, I quickly brought the glass to my lips and took down the goliath. As the tequila hit my taste buds, visions of Victoria bent over her desk in the pushed up dress invaded my senses. I could feel the leather of the dress on my hands as I aggressively held her in place. I could feel her clenched around my dick as I mercilessly pushed into her. I gulped the tequila hard, taking the whole double shot. “I forget how good the stuff is,” Victoria mentions, “Hey! Mr. Doubleshot, you didn’t get it all.” Victoria gestures down to my glass, as half an inch of liquid still swishes around.

I bring it back up to my mouth to drain the last of the shot, as the last of the liquor cascades through my mouth I hear “Oh Fuck! Oh Fuck!” in my head. The sound of Victoria taking it hard. I shiver, as I put the shot glass back on the table. “You know, I think I have another regular glass in my dresser,” Victoria remembers as she throws open the double doors.

As Victoria reaches up to the top shelf to find the glass, I notice her dresser is mostly packed up, with only a few pieces of clothing dangling in its barren interior. Suddenly, it catches my eye. At first I’m incredulous. I begin to question what I see, I don’t immediately recognize it. I’m almost positive it’s the notorious leather dress. Without it being cast on Victoria’s hypnotic body, I look it over thoroughly to make sure I haven’t gone crazy. Bluntly, Victoria breaks my concentration, “Oh yeah, that happened,” she weightily says as she pulls the dress off the hanger and jokingly holds it up to her body.

My heart leaps in and out of my chest. “No it didn’t,” I pathetically denounce, fearing that today is the day where that old mistake catches up to me. I never knew her thoughts on that night as this was the first time it was mentioned since the fact. All I knew is that I valued Victoria too much as a friend for me to let this alienate her, or Howie and Chris.

“Well,” Victoria breathily began, reveling in my discomfort, “I had an awfully fun time with whoever I was with the last time I wore that.”

Victoria held the dress up to herself a moment longer, jokingly modeling it. As my heart beats like a bass drum, all I can remember is how the last time I saw that dress it was balled up on Victoria’s dorm floor, marked with my cum. Victoria placed the dress back in her dresser as she laughed to herself. As she closed the doors, she lobbed the new shot glass to me. Distracted beyond belief, I barely caught it, fumbling it a half-dozen times before controlling it in my hands. She unabashedly laughed as I tried to regain my composure. “College is a crazy ride, isn’t it?” Victoria asked, cutting and validating the awkwardness in the room at the same time, “I’m gonna miss it.” Due to a combination of running on auto-pilot while my mind flew in circles and wanting to suppress my feelings, I poured myself another shot and roughly drank it down. “Hey! I thought you only said one shot,” Victoria noticed, half-offended, half-amused. “Let me catch up,” she said as she poured herself another in the double shot glass. She choked the shot down, “Alright, enough shots,” she laughed to herself and coughed, “I’m going downstairs to mix a drink, you want one?”

“I’m good,” I reply, shocked how fast the topic was grazed over.

The night was business as usual between Victoria and I, we watched some old videos of the bands we had played in, called around to see if any of our other friends were still on campus (they weren’t), and booted up the old Super Nintendo. It was a lot of fun, if not a bit melancholy given our time left. Our house felt like a ghost of itself, much of the furniture and artwork removed, leaving Victoria and I to share the only couch we had left. “If I can beat this level, you have to take another shot,” Victoria joked, referencing the level we had spent at least 20 minutes taking turns trying to beat.

“Ha, why not?” I agreed, this time showed no more promise than any other. To my surprise, Victoria handily beat it. I protested, noting that I couldn’t handle any more tequila and that I was joking.

“Double or nothing on this next one?” Victoria bartered.

Once more, I agreed, foolishly believing the odds to again be in my favor. Miraculously, (to us both) Victoria cleared the next level without incident. “That’ll teach you not to leave your friend drinking alone!” She taunted before taking a long pull from her mixed drink.

“Hey, I had a shot with you earlier,” I responded.

Victoria laughed in pride of her work some more before skipping upstairs for the tequila bottle. I rolled my eyes, my hesitations toward tequila were absurd. We had been friends for years now, no amount of alcohol could recreate that lapse in judgment. Victoria came clamoring in the room with the bottle, pouring me a shot in the double-glass. I knocked the shot back, “Oof, alright, that’s settled.”

“I happen to remember it being double or nothing.” Victoria smugly noted.

“But it’s a double-“ I cut myself off, there’s no winning this argument. I reluctantly pour another and throw it back. As the second shot reaches my mouth it leaves a strong after taste in its wake. The taste distinctly reminded me of something. I felt the flavor around in my mouth before again being forced back to October of a couple years ago. I remember the flavor from Victoria’s mouth. I remembered it when our tongues tackled each other for dominance. I remembered it from when she whispered in my ear. I remembered it from her panting into my face as she conceded defeat. I felt a buzz at my hips. The ringing of my phone fortunately ripped me out of this vivid memory. I wrestled the phone up. “Amber.” I reported grimly.

“Don’t pick up, we’re doing just fine here. It’s been fun.” Victoria reassured.

“Maybe I can just end this,” I justify as I pick up the phone. We both knew that wouldn’t be the case as I wandered outside to the porch so as not to intrude on Victoria. Amber was drunk, apologetic, and adamant. The conversation went in circles for nearly an hour. I repeatedly told her we weren’t together any more, to which she refuted, insisting she was still my girlfriend. Victoria was right, we were having a good night. The tequila in my system helped me work up the nerve to just hang up. I wouldn’t waste one of my final nights this way - I was going to go hang out with my friend.

I slammed the door on my way back in, and found myself to the living room, pouring myself another shot. Victoria laughed, “I’m guessing she’s still your girlfriend.”

“Thinks she’s my girlfriend,” I corrected. I looked over to Victoria, she had changed into a pair of yoga pants and an old baggy band shirt, but didn’t pay much mind to it given all the alcohol and frustration. “Still working on Donkey Kong?” I changed the subject.

“Yeah…” Victoria responded unenthused as I mistakenly take yet another shot, “It’s not quite as fun without Howie and Chris though.”

“I get that,” I say as I join Victoria on the couch. I fall to the cushion hard, “Man, I’m drunk. I guess I had to be to deal with her,” I laugh to myself.

Straight faced, Victoria responds, “I thought you were drinking to have fun with me, not escape her,” she looks serious, before cracking a smile, “But I can understand how both are good.” I laugh lightly, as Victoria lays horizontally on the couch, draping her legs across my lap - nothing uncommon from our friendship. She unpauses the game, before blindsiding me, “Were you two still having sex?”

I do a double take. Even when drunk, we never talked about my sex life. I suppose because no one ever asked. I hesitantly answer, “Well, not really. Not really across the last month and a half. It was pretty great before then.”

“Hmm… But you haven’t been getting any your last few months of college? She’s cold,” I don’t detect any light-humor in Victoria’s voice, although maybe my observational skills were being suffocated by the alcohol. Victoria continues, “I mean, that’s tragic. Yet she gives it to some other guy. Wild sex is like a fourth, maybe a third, of the college experience,” She looks away from the TV, toward me, before provoking me, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

I fumble on my words, “It’s definitely a perk.” I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol in my systems, the alcohol in her system, or the fact that college was basically over, but something didn’t seem quite right.

Victoria put the controller down, and looked up at me, “I remember when Jon and I were reaching the end, he got too caught up in school. He’d still do the half-hearted romantic stuff, but he never just wanted to fuck out of the blue.” She held out the word “fuck” while she twisted her feet in my lap, knocking the short socks off either foot. My eyes drunkenly follow the movement and look down to the end of her yoga pants. Expecting to see her barefoot, I’m instead surprised to see the familiar pattern of fishnets laced on her feet and winding their way up into her pant legs. My brain is slow to process what is happening, but I fear the worst. Conflict stricken across my face, I look down at her face reveling in it. As she looks into my eyes, she raises her eyebrows once before alluringly stating, “We’re fucking drunk, aren’t we?”

The booze in my bloodstream is only gaining strength, as I find myself speechless while trying to find a way to bring us both down to earth. In my hesitance, Victoria forcefully grabs my hand. My thoughts moving a million miles a minute without a single good one in the mix, I allow her to guide it, as she slowly lures my hand under her baggy shirt. I breathe heavily, blind to what’s happening, before she pulls my hand up between her breasts, and rests it down. Instinctively, I immediately try to withdraw my hand out, but it gets caught on the familiar grip of leather. Incredulously, my hand gropes around for answers in the darkness under her shirt, before discovering the rough feel of a metal zipper on the center of her stomach. Coolly, Victoria begins to recite as if from memory, “We’ve been friends for four years now, Lou. There’s no shame in what we did a couple years ago.” I continue to be at a loss for words as my heart tries to knock down the walls of my chest with its beating. The smell of tequila permeating strongly from her words. To me, four years of friendship holds a different meaning - I have more to lose than ever, or at least more than last time. As calmly as I can, I move my hand out of her shirt, before she pushes it back in, forcing it onto her breast. Her monologue continues, “Well, maybe there is a bit of shame in it,” she sits up, leaning in close to my ear as she whispers, “But it feels awfully good, doesn’t it?”

I feel myself growing rapidly in my pants. At my fingertips, I feel the softness of leather straddling half of my hand, while the softness of her skin fills the rest. Divorced from my thoughts to diffuse the situation, my hand moves on its own, lightly rubbing her nipple with my thumb through the leather - the material stretching and gripping to my touch. Pouring it on heavy, Victoria seductively lets out a moan before whispering back in my ear, “Good boy,” before letting out a confident laugh to herself.

With those words, a surge of feeling rushed to the tips of each limb - a pain for her. The same feeling I let corrupt me that Halloween a few years ago. The liquor allowed these feelings to invade my mind with little resistance. Quickly, I hooked my hand into the top of the leather, tantalizing her nipple further with my other fingers. Victoria continues to groan in my ear as I begin to pinch her, she bites my earlobe hard, and tells me through gritted teeth, “I knew you’d come around. You’re so easy.” I ramp up my intensity, my mind remaining a blank slate as my body insists it doesn’t protest. I feel the hot air from her lips blanket the side of my face. I remember how her lips feel. You never forget the kiss of another, even if they’re one of your friends. Victoria continues to moan and giggle into my ear before resorting to a familiar coy tone, “I know you want to suck me, and lick me too.”

Just as her words had set me off, these had shut me down. Her phrasing brought me back to the first time we made this mistake. I remember playing it back in my head countless times as I tried to fall asleep, feeling as though I had violated such an important friendship. My conscience fought through the tequila to grab my attention. I thought of how if I gave in now, I could screw this up permanently, what with us all going our separate ways shortly. I retract my hand out of her shirt and attempt to sober myself from the tequila and her body before speaking, “Victoria, we can’t do this. We’re just drunk.”

Victoria pulled back and looked at me with a fury I had never seen aimed at me. I waited for her to say something as she held the glare. Obtusely, she broke the moment with a small laugh to herself, before standing up. She looked down at me for a moment, before reaching down and patting my crotch - I was still rock hard. “That’s what I thought,” she snickered to herself before walking around the room. I looked at her as she looked away from me, slowly pulling down the curtains, covering each window. As I saw her wander the room I wondered how and why I acted the way I just did. Was I so drunk and sex-deprived that my best friend in a pair of yoga pants could throw me into such a frenzy?

Victoria covered the last window up before letting her hair down from its bun, fluffing it out. With yet another snicker to herself she spoke, “So we’re too drunk?” I nodded deliberately, she went on, “I don’t remember us being drunk when you saw my dress hanging in the closet and you seemed too bothered to breathe,” she laughed again and turned on a soft lamp in the corner of the room. As she walked over to turn off the harsh overhead light, she stumbled a bit drunkenly and I looked down at her feet, adorned in fishnet. The hormones summoned within me refused to subside, as they commanded the thought of how badly I wanted her to have nothing but those fishnets on by the end of the night again. Victoria found her way to the coffee table in front of me and sat on its edge. A guilty smirk came across her face as she spoke, “I know I still think about it.” I was confused for a moment before realizing she still hadn’t given up, she pressed on, slurring her words ever so slightly, “One time, I almost made Jon fuck me in the dress, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same. He wouldn’t know how to act. It wouldn’t feel wrong enough.” The dirty smirk remained engraved on her face before she started again, “I know you still think about it too. You’ve probably thought about it during your long showers,” she mocked. All my roommates mocked me for my long showers, sadly she was right though. I sighed and tried to keep my thoughts straight. Victoria appeared a bit annoyed again, “Come on, Lou. Let’s talk about it. We were in college. We still are. This sort of stuff is supposed to happen.” Her tone seemed to get a bit more serious as the night seemed to shift, if only for a moment.

“You’re my friend, Victoria. It’s as simple as that.” I remained firm.

After hearing my words, Victoria sighed fakely, and wandered to the front of the room. Given the serious turn, I thought this was over and would just be chalked up as a drunken fight come morning. Instead, Victoria’s competitive spirit, kept her at it. She spoke in a sinister tone, “Well, if it’s truly that simple, I hope you don’t mind if I lose a layer.” My eyes rolled at her persistence, but the hunger inside me kept them glued to her. With her back turned to me, she casually hoisted her t-shirt over her head, revealing her smooth skin and sensually shaped shoulders stemming from a tight, black leather base. Despite my strong stance a moment ago, I swallowed hard in temptation. Victoria gave a provocative look from over her shoulder. Seeing how uneasy I already was, her guilty smirk returned as she fed off of me. “Simple as that,” Victoria announced as she snapped the waistband of her yoga pants. The pants snapped hard as they made contact with the unyielding leather. She let it sink in for a moment, before gracefully letting the pants fall to the ground, the full dress now visible. Just as it felt the first time I saw her that Halloween night, the dress transformed her. She didn’t feel, look, or even move like Victoria - everything about her felt like something that escaped from the back recesses of my fantasies. I admired how the black leather clung to her perfect hourglass shape, coming up just short enough to reveal the luscious bare skin between the bottom of the dress and the top of her fishnets.

My mouth uncontrollably sprung to life as I tried to evaluate the situation, “You still have those fishnets?” I idiotically let out.

“Mhmm, you seemed to like them. Couldn’t throw them away, could I?” She said in her unique seductively coy fashion, “I still have those heels too. I could run upstairs and put those on if it’d make things easier for you,” she taunted as she turned around, fully entrancing me with every angle of her curves.

The control she possessed over me in that dress was unreal. It physically pained me to resist her. She didn’t challenge me, she knew she had me in her hand. I forced words out of my mouth, “Victoria, stop.” and they fell weakly to the side.

“I’ll tell you what,” Victoria began condescendingly, “You pour yourself another little shot and I’ll go upstairs and get those heels. I think you’ll rethink.” Victoria pushed the bottle of tequila in front of me and walked to the stairs, the sound of the leather hugging and stretching to her hips like a pocket watch swinging in front of my eyes. I poured the shot and took it down as she had instructed. The liquor had given me the strength to silence Amber earlier, maybe it will do the same with Victoria. I hyped myself up, I barely knew what I was trying to prevent amidst the distractions, but I wanted to stay strong. That was, until I heard the sound of her heels meeting our wooden stairs. She descended down them slowly as my mind made a descent twice as fast into depravity. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her long sculpted legs find their way into the room, “Now,” she began, “Are we going to have some fun, or no?”

My mind was already made up, but I didn’t know it. “We shouldn’t,” dribbled out of my mouth.

“Oh, but we should,” Victoria said, knowing she had won, “After all, you weren’t drunk when you decided to steal that mask from my box,” she smiled as she reached into my pocket and yanked out the mask that must have been peaking out. She set it to my face and began to tie it in place, her chest in my face and scent of leather enraging my body. She tied the final loop and reasoned, “You did make a promise about me wearing this dress. Or was it a threat?” her words felt forceful, the tequila and my lust giving her infinite confidence, “I even made it easy on you, I’m not wearing anyth-“ in the middle of her sentence, everything snapped. I forced her down into my lap and kissed her relentlessly. She giggled with success as my tongue danced in her mouth. My hand shot up the underside of her dress, as I reached up and grabbed her ass so hard that she yelped in pain. I forced her to her feet and subsequently pushed her down onto the coffee table, landing hard, with me coming after her.

Immediately, I buried my face in her chest, having only gotten a taste of it earlier. Folding the leather cupping her breasts back as far they can go, I begin kissing every inch aside from her nipples. She jolts in excitement whenever I get close, before finally giving in and forcing my head to her chest, “You have to finish what you started,” she whispers to me as my tongue makes contact with her areola. Victoria’s voice shoots up high as she finally enjoys the pleasure of my mouth to her chest, the taste of her skin mixes with the texture of leather as the dress forces its way back over her chest. I bite her nipple hard as the scent of the dress again floods my senses. She shrieks out in joy, demanding I do it again. I follow her directions before coming to a familiar realization. Now that she’s forced my hand again, I want to retake control.

I get up to my knees on the coffee table before throwing my shirt over my head and undoing my pants. Victoria sits up halfway and shakes her head, “Uh-uh, you still owe me,” she began before I pushed her down to her back. I held her wrists down on the table and whispered in her ear, “You know the rules,” to which she squirmed excitedly. I have great clarity as I think of a dozen ways to punish her for pushing me over the edge again. Just earlier today she had noted that I never lose my cool, I now realize she must get off on her incredible power to break me. As such, I can’t disappoint. Suddenly, it donned on me: the curtains. We lived on a busy party street, and rarely was it more busy than the last week of school, thus explaining her careful note of covering all the windows before this began. With great efficiency, I threw them all up. As I made my way to the overhead light switch, I heard Victoria call out in a serious tone, “Lou? What are you doing?”

Part 2