The club lights blurred into neon streaks as Lena stumbled out, her dress riding up her thick thighs. Vodka clouded her mind, making her sway on her heels. She leaned against the damp brick wall of the alley, fumbling for her phone.

That’s when he approached. A tall stranger in a leather jacket, his eyes dark with intent. He didn’t see a tipsy wife—he saw a working girl, a slut posted up and ready for business.

“How much for a quick suck?” he growled, his voice rough.

Lena’s booze-addled brain took a second to process. A protest died on her lips as his hand cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing her plump, glossed mouth. “I’m not—” she slurred.

“Sure you are,” he cut her off, his other hand sliding down to palm her ass through the thin fabric. He squeezed the full cheek, making her gasp. “Dressed like this, tits spilling out? You’re begging for it.”

His words sent a shocking jolt of wet heat straight to her pussy. The mistake, the danger—it was filthy and wrong, and her soaked cunt throbbed in agreement. He took her silence as consent.

Pushing her harder against the wall, he yanked the flimsy neckline of her dress down. Her big, heavy tits spilled free, nipples hard and pebbled in the cold air. He didn’t waste time. His mouth latched onto one, sucking hard, teeth grazing the sensitive nub. Lena cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair.

His hand dove under her skirt, finding her pant