Sin Street

He saw her wandering down the most famous street of debauchery and sin. Despite the immense crowd of drunken fools, he easily picked her out, sliding easily through the crowd as if it were the Red Sea parting in front of her. Many of the other men in the crowd saw her too. It was hard not to stare- a petite brunette, long hair to her waist, with a tight body emphasized by the tighter jeans hiding her long legs, topped off with spiked heels. Even in her high heels, she moved with a grace that was ill-placed on the dirty street fraught with obstacles like a homeless man and countless wasted frat boys. He follows her into one of the many bars, easily blending into the pulsing crowd. Her voice carries above the noise of the revelers, “Rum and coke, please,” – a rather hard drink for a seemingly soft girl. He walks up to the bar next to her, smiling, “Make that two.” The bartender complies as her gaze connects with his own; for a split second, he thinks he’s going to be turned down, but instead her deep brown eyes light up with a smirk that makes his cock twitch in his pants. “I assume you owe me a drink,” she jokes slyly. He smiles back, drinking the liquid the bartender has placed before him. “Guess I can’t resist a beautiful woman with good taste.”

She laughs, and drinks her drink. “Good. I can’t resist a man with a generous wallet.” Her laugh sends tingles down his spine; it’s mischievous and inviting, but so seemingly innocent he questions the validity of her claim. “Ah, so you like rich men?”

Again she laughs, “I’m just kidding. As long as you’re good in bed, I don’t care about the condition of your wallet.”

Now his dick is really taking notice of the petite nympho. “Another round for the lady and myself,” he ask the bartender.

The smirk is back on her face, enjoying the fact that he’s spoiling her so. They pry themselves from the bar to make room for more desperate patrons, finding a rare table to place their drinks on. Her red top is long- in fact, long enough to make a very sexy, dangerously short dress. He can’t resist taking a hold of the hem of the fabric as she stands there sipping her drink.

Her fingertips graze the back of his hand, acknowledging his grip on her shirt. She giggles, “Now now.. what kind of girl do you think I am? I want credit for being a easy date only after 3 drinks minimum, okay?”

His hand slides from the hem to her hip, pulling her closer. Their eyes meet, and he smiles, “In that case, I better get us a fresh round.”

Grasping their new drinks, they begin to walk down the street, navigating the dense crowd around them. His hand slides around her ass, gently cupping her right cheek as they wander through bachelor parties, gawking tourists, and liberal fun-seekers. She follows suit, sliding her hand and teasingly squeezes his left ass cheek. Passing between bars, they see an alley. He throws his empty cup to the ground and pushes her into the darkness, trapping her against the wall.

A regular woman would be afraid. Instead, she’s intrigued. She snakes her left leg around his waist, pulling him closer to her, while her right hand still holds her drink.

“Careful, darling.