Good Girl

Another game

*Irene*

It is Friday night and the bar is alive with laughter and clinking glasses, but I’m on the prowl, tucked away in a corner, slumped against the velvet couch, pretending to be half-asleep and drowning in a haze of cheap whiskey… it is of course as always a game… one to see who will bite.

The booth next to me is occupied by three guys, their voices low but growing louder as they settle into their drinks. I can hear every word, each laugh slicing through the fog that envelops me. They’re cocky, each one trying to outdo the other with tales of conquests and condescension, and it makes my skin crawl.

“Look at her,” one of them says, gesturing in my direction. “She’s just asking for it, sitting there alone like that. Women put themselves at risk acting like this. What do they expect?”

The others chuckle, and I can feel their eyes on me, assessing, dissecting every inch of my vulnerability. Part of me wants to recoil, to shrink back from their gaze, but instead, I lean deeper into the couch, forcing myself to remain still. I’m not afraid. Not at all actually… I shift my pose slightly, spreading my legs a bit in the too short skirt, wondering if they can see a wet spot in my lacy underwear.

“She is actually kinda hot,” The first one says. “In that ‘I look innocent but I am really a cheep w***e that lets you do anal on a second date’ kinda way.”

“I’d love to take her on a second date then,” the second says and they all laugh.

As they continue, their conversation shifts, a dangerous current building between them. “You know,” the second guy says, his tone shifting from casual to conspiratorial, “it’d be easy to take her home. Just one little nudge, and she’d follow us like a lost puppy. You can tell she’d do anything for a bit of attention. And I bet She would not remember tomorrow who or how many d***s plowed her… easy lay.”

I want to be disgusted, to stand up and tell them off, but instead, I find myself holding my breath, caught in the web of their words. They’re talking about me as if I’m nothing more than a plaything, a f**k doll to be used… I should hate it… I do hate it… but the thought, the images also sends little pleasurable waves into my pussy..

“What would you do to her?” the last one asks, his voice low and dripping with anticipation. “I mean, if you managed to get her home.”

I almost laugh, the absurdity of their bravado striking me. They’re so sure of themselves, so convinced that I’m just some easy target. But they don’t know me. They don’t know the fire that simmers beneath my surface.

The first guy leans in closer, lowering his voice, but I can still hear him. “I’d f**k every hole, hard and fast, then blast in her pretty little face. She wouldn’t know what hit her.” His friends cheer, their laughter hollow and mocking. The air grows thick with their camaraderie, and I can feel the heat rising within me… an unexpected thrill coursing through my veins.

“I bet she squeals like a happy piggy getting sausage,” another says, and they all laugh crudely.

“Someone should go check on her,” one of them finally says with a mocking grin. “Make sure she’s okay. Wouldn’t want her to get lost out there.” They all laugh again, each punchline more cruel than the last, but deep down, a part of me is curious.

The first guy stands up, straightening his shirt as he makes his way over to me. His demeanor shifts from arrogant to concerned, but I can see the gleam in his eyes as they rake over my body. “Hey there,” he says, his voice laced with feigned sweetness. “You okay? You look a bit… unsteady.”

I squint at him, forcing my lips into a lazy smile. “I’m fine,” I slur, the words tumbling out more drunkenly than probably needed. “Just… enjoying the night.”

He steps closer, a predatory glint in his gaze growing bolder. “Why don’t I help you get home. You shouldn’t be out here alone, you know. It’s dangerous.”

I want to laugh in his face, to tell him I’m not scared of him or his kind, I know how to handle them. But instead, I pretend to waver, my heart racing as I lean into the act. “I don’t need help,” I say, but the way his eyes darken tells me he’s not buying it.

“Come on,” he pushes, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. I promise I’ll look after you. We can grab a cab together… I’ll even pay.”

I feel a thrill of excitement mixed with apprehension. It shouldn’t arouse me, the thought of manipulation and control… the way I play these men right into my trap… but it does. I’m playing with fire, and the heat is intoxicating. Still, my mind drifts back to Benjamin, to the way he made me feel alive. This guy… he’s not him.

But I can’t resist the temptation. “Okay,” I finally say, my voice dragging a little, like the alcohol is thickening my words. “Just like making sure I get home.”

He grins, a predatory smile that sends a shiver down my spine, but it’s not entirely unpleasant. We step outside into the cool night air, and I can feel the weight of his gaze on me, the heat of it prickling my skin.

As we get into a taxi, he leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. “I promise to take good care of you.”

As we drive, we do not speak, and as always I play with the idea of letting him do what he wants, to see where this would go if I do not stop him… but it has lost some appeal… he is not the man I want.

“Whoops,” he says with mock innocence as the taxi stops, “I guess I gave him my address. You might as well come up for a drink.”

The words hang in the air, thick with implication. I can feel my pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and dread surging through me. He has no ides that he is caught in a game he didn’t mean to play, but he will find out soon enough.

I let my mind wander back to Benjamin as I get out of the car… He is the man I want, so no I am not gonna let this nobody use me, I will only let him believe it long enough to get close to him… and then…