Chapter 1: The Barstool Decision
The dive bar smelled like regret and cheap whiskey, the air thick with the kind of humidity that clung to skin like a second layer. April sat on a stool at the bar, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass—half-empty, half-full, just like her life. The neon sign outside flickered, casting a sickly pink glow over the sticky floor, and the jukebox groaned out another slow, sad song, the kind that made men feel like they could handle anything if they just had the right arm around them.
She was short, with curves that spilled over the edges of her tight black dress, her hips pressing against the stool like she was trying to melt into it.
Her honey-brown hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and her hazel eyes were cast down, watching the amber liquid in her glass as if it held the answers to all her problems. She bit her lip, a nervous habit that had become more pronounced since she'd started down this path.
The bartender, Simone, was wiping down the counter with a rag that had seen better days. She was a sharp-tongued, no-nonsense woman with a pixie cut and a nose ring that glinted under the bar lights. She caught April's eye and rolled hers, nodding towards the end of the bar where a man was sitting, his gaze locked onto April like a predator.
"Another one for the collection, I see," Simone muttered, not unkindly. April just shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. She knew Simone didn't understand, couldn't understand. She'd never had to feel like she was less than, like her worth was measured in inches and pounds.
The man at the end of the bar was Derek, a gym trainer with a reputation that preceded him. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, his shaved head glinting under the bar lights like a cue ball. He had a cocky grin, the kind that said he knew exactly what he was doing and didn't care who he hurt in the process.
April chose this bar instead of other knowing precisely what she could get here. Attention and anonymity.
"Do you actually have friends?" Simone asked.
"You know, people who aren't... like him." She nodded towards Derek, who was now making his way over, his eyes never leaving April.
April just smiled, a small, sad curve of her lips. "Friends are overrated, Simone. They come with expectations, and I'm not in the business of meeting those right now."
Simone sighed, shaking her head. "You're playing with fire, girl. And I'm not talking about the whiskey."
April didn't respond, her gaze shifting to Derek as he slid onto the stool next to her. He didn't bother with small talk, his hand going straight to her thigh, his fingers digging into her soft flesh like he was claiming territory.
"Well hello sir" April said, her voice a little breathy, a little too sweet. She knew she was playing a role, but it was easier than feeling anything real. "What can I do for you?"
Derek leaned in, his cologne thick and expensive, the kind that made her want to turn her head away but also made her want to lean in closer. "I can think of a few things," he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel under a car tire. "But first, let me buy you a drink."
April glanced at Simone, who was watching them with a mix of amusement and something darker, something like envy. Simone raised an eyebrow, a silent question.
"You don't need to, with her." Simone said. "She'll still fuck you"
April smirked.
"I don't think so. I'm not that kind of girl."
Derek laughed, a deep, throaty sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Oh, I think you are." He slid his hand up her thigh again, his fingers tracing the hem of her dress, teasing the edge of her panties.
April swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She wanted to pull away, but her body felt heavy, like it was made of lead.
She'd been here before, in this position, with this kind of man. But tonight, something felt different. Maybe it was the way Derek's hand was lingering, his fingers tracing patterns on her thigh, or maybe it was the way Simone was watching them, her eyes filled with a hunger that April had never seen before.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" Derek asked, his voice a low purr.
April hesitated, then decided on a lie. "April," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Derek grinned, his teeth white and even. "Well, April, I think we should get out of here. Somewhere a little more... private."
Simone leaned in, her voice low.
"You sure about this, April? You don't have to go anywhere with him."
April looked at Simone, then at Derek, and back again. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. "I'm sure," she said, her voice steady. She slid off the stool, Derek's hand falling away from her thigh. She felt a pang of regret, but she pushed it aside. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? To prove that her body had purpose, that she was desirable, even if it was just for a night.
Derek stood up, his chair screeching against the floor.
He didn't offer to help April down from her stool, didn't even look at her as he strode towards the back door, expecting her to follow. She did, her heels clicking on the sticky floor, the sound echoing in the sudden silence of the bar. Simone watched them go, her expression unreadable.
The back alley was narrow, the air thick with the smell of rotting garbage and the faint, lingering scent of urine. April wrinkled her nose, but she didn't stop, didn't hesitate. She followed Derek into the darkness, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum.
Derek turned to face her, his eyes gleaming in the faint light from the bar's back door.
He didn't say anything, just reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. April stumbled, her heels catching on the uneven ground, but she didn't pull away. She let him pull her close, let him press her against the rough brick wall of the alley, his body hard against hers.
"You're not like the others, are you?" Derek said, his voice a low growl. His hands were on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh like he was trying to leave marks. April could feel the heat of him, the hardness of him, pressing against her stomach.
"What others?" April asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"Sluts" he said.
Derek's voice was a low growl, his breath hot on her face. April felt a shiver run down her spine, but she didn't pull away. She wanted this, didn't she? To prove herself, to feel desired, even if it was just for a night.
She didn't answer, just reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down to her. Their lips met in a clash of teeth and tongues, a brutal, hungry kiss that tasted like whiskey and cigarettes. Derek's hands were on her body, roaming, exploring, like he was trying to map out every curve, every dip.
His fingers traced the outline of her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress, his touch rough, demanding. April's breath hitched, her body responding to his touch, even though she told herself she shouldn't.
"You want this, don't you?" Derek murmured against her lips, his voice a low, rough growl. His hand slid down, cupping her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp. "You're so fucking tight," he said, his voice dripping with lust. "I can feel how wet you are already."
April's head spun, her mind a blur of desire and self-loathing.
"My place is nearby" he said.
"Let's go there. I want to fuck you properly, not against a wall like some cheap whore."
April felt a jolt at the words, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she took a deep breath and said, "Lead the way, big boy."
Derek smirked, taking her hand and leading her out of the alley and onto the street. His apartment was a short walk away, in a building that looked like it had seen better days. The elevator was slow and creaky, and April could feel the tension building between them with each floor they passed.
When they finally reached his apartment, Derek didn't bother with small talk.
The second the door clicked shut behind them, he spun April around, pressing her against the wall with a strength that made her gasp. His body was a wall of muscle, his chest pressing into her back, his breath hot against her ear.
"Fuck, you're *tight*," he muttered, his voice rough with need. His hands were everywhere—cupping her breasts through the fabric of her dress, squeezing hard enough to make her moan. "I can't wait to get you out of this."
April's heart pounded in her chest, her body trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. She had done this before, but never with someone who made her feel so *alive*.
Derek's hands were rough, his touch demanding, but there was something else, something that made her want to give in, to let go of all her inhibitions. She could feel the heat of him, the hardness of him, pressing against her ass, and it sent a jolt of desire straight to her core.
"Fuck, you're so *fucking* hot," he growled, his voice like gravel. His hands moved to her dress, pushing it up, up, until it was bunched around her waist. She could feel the cool air on her skin, the rough fabric of his jeans against her thighs.
April’s breath came in shallow gasps as Derek’s fingers slid beneath the lace of her panties, his touch rough and possessive. She bit her lip, her body betraying her with a whimper as his fingers found her slick heat.
"You’re *soaking* for me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "I knew you’d be this way. A little slut who can’t keep her legs closed."
April’s knees nearly buckled. She hated how much she wanted this, how much she wanted *him*—but she couldn’t stop herself. The way he spoke to her, the way he touched her, it was like he was rewriting her own thoughts in his head.
April’s mind was a mess of conflicting emotions—shame, desire, and something darker, something that made her want to let go completely.
Derek’s fingers were inside her now, thick and rough, curling inside her with a wet, obscene sound. She gasped, her back arching against the wall, her head tilted back as pleasure shot through her. His other hand was still on her breast, squeezing hard enough to make her moan.
"You like that, don’t you?" he growled, his voice deep and rough. "You like being fucked like a little whore."
April whimpered, her body responding to his words even as she tried to tell herself it didn’t matter.
This was just sex, just a release, nothing more. But Derek’s fingers were relentless, his touch rough and demanding, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he muttered, his voice a low growl. "I can't wait to get my cock inside you."
April's breath hitched, her mind filling with images of Derek's thick, hard cock sliding into her, filling her up completely. She could feel her body clenching around his fingers, her hips moving in time with his hand, seeking more, always more.
April’s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, her fingers clutching at the wall for support. The rough brick scraped against her palms, but she didn’t care. She was lost in the sensation, in the way Derek’s fingers filled her, stretching her, making her feel *used*—and in the best way possible.
"You’re so fucking wet for me," Derek growled, his voice thick with lust. His fingers slid out of her, leaving her aching and empty, before he pulled her panties down in one rough motion. The lace scraped against her skin as it pooled around her ankles, and she stepped out of it, feeling exposed, vulnerable.
Derek didn’t waste a second.
He unbuckled his belt, the sound of the leather sliding through the loops echoing in the room like a gunshot. April’s heart pounded in her chest, her body already aching for him. She could see the outline of his cock through his jeans, thick and long, and she felt a shiver of anticipation run down her spine.
“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice rough and demanding. April hesitated for a moment, her mind screaming at her to run, to get out while she still could. But her body betrayed her, her legs folding beneath her as she sank to the floor.
Derek's hands were in her hair, fisting it roughly, pulling her head back so she was looking up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with desire, and his lips were curled into a sneer.
"Look at you, on your knees like a good little slut," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're pathetic, you know that? You're nothing but a hole to fuck."
April felt a pang of shame, but it was quickly overshadowed by the heat building between her legs. She could feel the wetness dripping down her thighs, and she knew that Derek was right—she was a slut, a whore, and she loved it.
She loved the way he talked to her, the way he used her, and she wanted more. She wanted to feel him inside her, filling her up, making her feel whole.
Derek's hands were still fisted in her hair, and he used his grip to guide her head towards his crotch. She could see the bulge in his jeans, thick and long, and she could feel her mouth watering at the thought of tasting him.
"Come on, slut," he growled, his voice rough and demanding. "Show me what you can do with that pretty little mouth of yours."
April opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue and licking her lips.
She could feel Derek’s eyes burning into her, watching her every move. Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide and pleading, but also hungry. She wanted to please him, to make him feel good, to make him feel like she was the only one who mattered.
Derek’s voice was a low, gravelly growl as he spoke, his words filled with a mix of lust and disdain. "You want to suck my cock, don’t you? You want to taste how good it feels when I fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?"
April nodded, her lips parting slightly.
Derek's grip on her hair tightened, and he used it to guide her head closer to his crotch. She could smell him now, the musky scent of his arousal filling her nostrils, making her mouth water even more.
"Go on, slut," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Take it out. Show me what you can do."
April's fingers fumbled with his belt, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the heat of him through his jeans, and it made her fingers tremble as she finally managed to undo the buckle.
She could hear Derek's ragged breathing above her, his grip on her hair tightening as she slowly unzipped his jeans, revealing the thick, hard length of him straining against his boxers.
"Fuck, you're taking too long," he growled, his voice impatient. "Get it out already."
April bit her lip, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers, and she pulled them down, his cock springing free, thick and heavy. She could see the veins pulsing along the length of it, and the head was already glistening with pre-cum. She could smell the musky scent of him, and it made her mouth water.
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide and pleading, her lips parted slightly. Derek's grip on her hair tightened, and he used it to guide her head closer to his cock. "Taste it. Show me how much you want it."
April's breath hitched as she leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the head of his cock. She could taste the salty sweetness of his pre-cum, and it made her moan softly. Derek's grip on her hair tightened even more, and he began to guide her head, fucking her mouth with slow, steady strokes.
April gagged as he hit the back of her throat, her eyes watering, but she didn't pull away. She wanted this, wanted to please him, wanted to feel him use her like this.
"Fuck, you're a natural at this," Derek grunted, his voice thick with lust. "Look at you, taking my cock like a good little slut."
April could feel the heat building between her legs, her own arousal growing with each thrust of his hips. She could feel the wetness dripping down her thighs, and she knew that she was close, so close to coming just from sucking him off.
Derek's grip on her hair was relentless, his hips thrusting forward, fucking her mouth with a brutal intensity that made her gag and choke. But she loved it, loved the way he used her, loved the way he made her feel like she was nothing but a toy for his pleasure.
"Fuck, you're so good at this," Derek grunted, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait to fuck that tight little pussy of yours."
April moaned around his cock, the sound muffled by his thickness. She could feel her own arousal growing, her body aching for release. She wanted him to fuck her, wanted to feel him inside her, filling her up completely.
She wanted to be used, to be taken, to be *owned*.
Derek must have sensed her desperation, because he suddenly pulled her to her feet, his hands rough and demanding on her body. He spun her around, pushing her face-first against the wall, her breasts pressing into the rough brick. She could feel his hands on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he positioned himself behind her.
"Fuck, you've got a nice ass," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait to pound into it."
April whimpered, her body aching with anticipation.
She could feel her own wetness dripping down her thighs, her body betraying her desire. Derek's hands slid up her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he positioned himself behind her.
"Spread your legs wider, slut," Derek commanded, his voice rough and demanding. His hands slid down to her thighs, spreading them apart with a rough shove. April obeyed, her legs trembling as she widened her stance, her body instinctively arching to offer herself to him.
Derek’s breath was hot against her ear as he spoke, his words a mix of filthy promises and cruel taunts. "You want this, don’t you?
You want me to fuck you hard, to make you scream?" Derek's voice was a low growl, his breath hot against her ear. April could feel the heat of him, the hardness of him, pressing against her ass, and she knew that she was lost. She was his, completely and utterly, and she didn't care.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Fuck me, Derek. Make me scream."
Derek chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Oh, I will, sweetheart.