My thighs clenched on instinct, shocked by my own body's raw sensitivity—and even more by the wild, unbidden thought flashing through my mind: God, I love a man who takes control like that.
"Time's up!"
Only when the referee shouted did Ryan finally let me go, his touch lingering like he didn't want to stop.
That kiss left me dizzy. Gasping for air, I snatched my glass and downed half of it in one go.
The room erupted—cheers, whistles, the whole thing turning into a spectacle.
The energy was electric, and just like that, another round began.
This time, Tiffany lost.
A guy unfolded her slip and read it out with a dirty grin. "Tiffany. Your task is to pick any guy in this room and make him finish. You've got ten minutes. No rules."
"Pick! Pick! Pick!" the guys chanted, leaning in.
Tiffany didn't even blink. "Ryan, then."
Ryan shot me a quick, almost performative look of reluctance. "Ten minutes? Come on. You know I need at least thirty."
Tiffany smirked. "Since when are you that good?"
Then she grabbed a disposable cup, marched toward the bathroom, and Ryan followed. Before long, low, breathy moans filtered out.
They didn't even bother shutting the door.
The room went quiet—nothing but thick, heavy silence and exchanged looks full of meaning.
My hand flew to my mouth. My legs were shaking. I'd heard Tiffany go on and on about how Ryan was built better than anyone she'd been with—but seeing it play out right there? That was different.
"Time's up!"
When they finally came out, clothes messy and hair a wreck, Tiffany's face was glowing with pure satisfaction.
"Told you," Ryan bragged, adjusting his pants before scooping her up from behind in a playfully crude carry.
She squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.
Her skirt was way too short—everything was on full display.
Other guys closed in, crowding around Tiffany until the scene dissolved into something wild and chaotic.
What's a party without enough liquor to wash away the last bit of shame?
At some point, a bottle was pressed against my lips. I drank without thinking, gulping it down as hands wandered over my body in the commotion.
By the time the room started spinning and my vision blurred, I'd lost track of how much I drank—or how many hands were on me.
"Her skin's so soft… and that ass—"
When I didn't fight back, they got rougher, tearing at my dress, shoving me down onto the couch right next to Tiffany. She was already on her knees, face flushed, breathing hard.