Chapter 14: The Date that Never Was
The dorm air clung thick with hairspray and vanilla body mist. Amy leaned close to the vanity mirror, rimming her eyes in black kohl until they looked bruised and wide. Her reflection stared back – a stranger with plumped lips and unnaturally arched brows. She ran her tongue against the new metal barbell piercing, the cold ball clicking against her teeth. Her stomach fluttered, hollow.
For Mark. It was all for Mark. He liked this. The glossy finish. The effort. She needed him to see it. Needed him to approve.
She picked up the glittery silver shorts. Microscopic, barely covering her pelvis, the hem cut high on her thighs. Swallowing hard, she shimmied into them. The stretchy fabric hugged her hips, the waistband digging in just below her navel. She turned, craning her neck to see her back in the full-length mirror. Her asscheeks were completely exposed, pale globes spilling out beneath the shimmering fabric. Totally out there. A flush crept up her neck. She took a step. Her cheeks jiggled, bouncing slightly with each movement. She took another step. Jiggle. Bounce. A strange warmth spread through her belly, a low thrum of something like excitement mixed with shame. She loved it. Loved the cool air on her skin, the tiny sparkles catching the light, the undeniable, vulgar display. Loved knowing eyes would be drawn there.
Her phone buzzed on the vanity. Mark. ‘Running 5 mins late. See you outside the Union?’
‘Kk! Can’t wait babe! 😘’ she typed back, the valley girl lilt natural now. She quickly pulled on a tight, baby pink crop top that stopped inches above the shorts' waistband, completing the look. Ridiculous. Desperate. Perfect.
The campus quad buzzed with early evening energy. Amy felt the stares as she walked, the hot prickle of attention on her exposed skin. Whispers followed her. A low whistle cut through the chatter. She sucked in her stomach, pushed her shoulders back, made her hips sway. The jiggling felt more pronounced now, a rhythmic bounce with every click of her high-heeled sandals. Each bounce sent that warm thrum deeper. Men’s eyes tracked her, lingered. A group of frat guys lounging on a bench erupted in laughter as she passed. One called out, "Damn, look at that ass!" Another voice, lower, more direct, cut through the noise. "Hey. Sparkles."
She stopped. Turned. A guy leaned against a lamppost, baseball cap backwards, muscular arms crossed. He wasn't smiling. His eyes, dark and assessing, scanned her from the glittering shorts up to her heavy makeup. He wasn't Mark. He was broader, rougher. Familiar in a vague, campus-party way.
"Yeah?" Amy asked, her voice pitched high, breathy.
"Where you headed lookin' like that?" He pushed off the post, taking a step closer. The scent of cheap beer and sweat hit her.
"Date," she chirped, fiddling with her tiny purse. "With my boyfriend."
He smirked. "Boyfriend, huh? Lucky guy." His gaze dropped deliberately, lingered on her exposed backside. "Bet he appreciates the view." He took another step, blocking her path slightly. "You look... tense. Wound up for your big date." His voice dropped to a murmur, intimate despite the public space. "Need to relax first? Take the edge off?" He nodded towards the brick building behind him – the student union. "Bathroom's right inside. Empty this time of day."
Amy's heart hammered against her ribs. Mark was waiting. Outside. Five minutes. But the guy's stare was intense, demanding. The thrill of his blatant appraisal warred with the fading echo of her anxiety about Mark. The craving flared, sharp and hot, the familiar haze descending, the need to please, to be wanted, right now, by anyone. Especially someone who looked at her like she was just a piece of meat.
"Like... now?" she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah. Now." He didn't wait for further agreement. He grabbed her wrist, not rough, but firm, pulling her towards the side entrance. His grip was hot. Unyielding. She stumbled a little in her heels, the jiggle of her ass intensifying as she hurried to keep up. No one seemed to notice them slip inside the utilitarian hallway.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead. The men's bathroom door swung shut behind them, the scent of industrial cleaner and stale urine sharp in her nose. It was small, dim. He didn't pause. He backed her against the cool tile wall next to the sinks, his hands already on her hips, turning her roughly to face the wall. Her cheek pressed against the cold surface. Her glittery shorts stayed up, but he yanked the thin fabric aside, fully exposing her.
"No condom," he grunted, one hand fumbling with his jeans, the other pressing hard on the small of her back, forcing her spine into an arch. Her ass was completely bare, vulnerable, presented. She loved it. Loved the cold air, the exposure, the sheer shamelessness.
"Okay," she gasped, the word dissolving into a moan as he pressed the thick head of his cock against her tight hole. She felt the unfamiliar stretch, the burn. Sharp. Sudden. She cried out, a high-pitched, pornstar gasp. "Oh! Oh god!"
"Shut up," he hissed, but there was no anger, just impatience. He pushed in relentlessly, inch by unforgiving inch. Amy's breath hitched. The pain was intense, a white-hot tearing sensation. Tears sprang to her eyes. But beneath the pain, the familiar drug-induced craving surged, twisting it. The degradation. The use. She moaned again, loud and theatrical, pushing her ass back against him. "Fuck! Fuck me! It's so... big! Oh!"
He laughed, a short, harsh sound. "Yeah, you like that? Taking it raw in a shithole bathroom?" He grabbed her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, and started to thrust. Hard. Deep. Each slam drove the air from her lungs. Her exposed cheeks slapped against him with every brutal push. Jiggle. Slap. Jiggle. Slap. The sound echoed off the tiles. Her moans became a constant, breathless stream, punctuated by his grunts. "Oh god! Oh! Right there! Yes! Fuck me! Pound my ass! Oh! I'm... I'm gonna...!" She screamed, a sound shrill and desperate, as the forced climax ripped through her, muscles clenching around his invading cock. "I'm cumming! Oh god, yes! Cumming! 💖"
He didn't slow. He fucked her through it, harder, faster, his breathing ragged. "Take it," he growled. "Take it all." With a final, shuddering groan, he slammed deep and held, pulsing inside her. The hot flood filled her, an intimate violation that sent another, smaller ripple of unwanted pleasure through her trembling body.
He pulled out abruptly, letting her go. She slumped forward, catching herself on the sink edge, her legs shaking. His come dripped down the inside of her thigh, warm and sticky. He zipped up, adjusted his cap, barely glancing at her.
"Thanks, Sparkles," he said, his voice flat. He pulled out his phone, checking the screen. "Later." He pushed the door open and was gone. The harsh light hummed.
Amy stayed bent over the sink, breathing hard. Her ass throbbed, raw and aching. The glitter on her shorts felt suddenly cheap, garish under the fluorescents. She straightened slowly, wincing. Her phone buzzed insistently in her tiny purse. Mark. Multiple missed calls. Texts. ‘Where are you?’ ‘Amy?’ ‘Seriously?’
She looked down at the sticky trail on her thigh. Looked at her reflection in the smeared mirror above the sink – smudged makeup, swollen lips, hair mussed. The glittery shorts still exposed her, the skin reddened where he’d gripped her. The most degrading part wasn't the public bathroom, the pain, or the stranger's careless use of her. It wasn't even the mess dripping down her leg. It was knowing a random guy had just fucked her ass raw, without a second thought, while Mark hadn't even gotten to fuck her without a condom.