Flesh Unleashed - Chapter 1: The Spark of the Slut | Free Erotic Story

The Rusty Tap hummed with the dull buzz of a Tuesday night—neon beer signs flickering, the jukebox spitting out a gritty rock tune, and the air thick with the stale stink of cigarettes and spilled whiskey. Lila Voss sat at the bar, her third drink sweating in her hand, her green eyes tracing the room like a predator too long caged. She was 32, freshly divorced, and horny as hell, though she’d never admit it out loud. Not yet. Her pussy, neglected for years in a marriage that felt like a slow suffocation, pulsed faintly beneath her tight jeans, a reminder of what she’d ignored. Across the room, Damien Rex crouched by the jukebox, a wrench in one hand, his broad shoulders straining against a grease-stained T-shirt. His jeans hugged his ass, and—fuck—there it was: the thick outline of his cock pressing against the denim, a bulge that made Lila’s breath catch. She shifted on the stool, her thighs rubbing together, and felt a slick warmth bloom between her legs. Her cunt was waking up, and it was pissed she’d starved it so long. “Another?” Sasha Kline’s voice snapped her out of it. The bartender leaned over the counter, her shaved head glinting under the lights, her small tits barely contained by a cropped tank top. A silver stud winked at her navel, and Lila wondered if her clit was pierced too. Sasha’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as she poured more whiskey, her tongue darting out to lick the corner of her mouth. “You’re staring, babe.” Lila flushed, downing half the glass in one gulp. The burn steadied her, but her eyes flicked back to Damien. He stood now, wiping sweat from his brow, and caught her gaze. His grin was pure sin—teeth white against a stubbled jaw, a promise of something filthy. “You look like you need a good fucking,” he said, loud enough for the bar to hear. A couple of drunks chuckled, but Lila’s pussy clenched hard, a traitor to her composure. She didn’t answer, just slid off the stool and stumbled toward the bathroom, her heart hammering. The door creaked shut behind her, locking out the noise, and she leaned against the chipped sink, staring at her reflection. Dark hair wild, cheeks pink, nipples stiff against her thin blouse. She was a mess—a wet, aching mess. Her hand slipped down, unbuttoning her jeans, fingers diving past her panties to find her slit. Soaked. Her clit throbbed under her touch, swollen and begging. “Fuck,” she whispered, imagining Damien’s cock splitting her open. She pictured it—long, thick, veins pulsing as he rammed it into her cunt, his balls slapping her ass. Her fingers worked faster, circling her clit, dipping into her hole. The bathroom smelled of bleach and damp tile, but all she could think of was the musk of his sweat, the weight of that dick stretching her until she screamed. Her other hand yanked up her shirt, squeezing a tit, pinching the nipple hard. She came fast, a shuddering gasp ripping from her throat, her pussy spasming around her fingers. Cum slicked her thighs, and she braced against the sink, panting. The woman in the mirror looked back—wild-eyed, lips parted, a slut reborn. Lila wiped her hand on her jeans, adjusted her clothes, and smirked. Damien was still out there, and so was Sasha. Her cunt wasn’t done with her yet.