The Saturday to be at Lobos was during the second week of August when the annual welcome rager took place. The entire club would crawl with fresh meat — er erhm, well, freshmen — and ever the generous hosts, Venom would gladly volunteer to show the newcomers the ways of Carlton Tech by corrupting the shit out of them since day one.
The trio may have had a little something to do with Carlton Tech’s party school notoriety, which was probably the reason why there were more incoming students each year. It was an unspoken rule at this point — if Venom was involved, you’d better drop everything for a night you would never forget, period.
Because rules applied to everyone else, not them. And nothing compared to the thrill of being a part of that in whatever capacity.
The crowd in the club was as appealing as ever as if the school secretly required boudoir shots as part of application packages. Minho was lounging in his usual booth, the bottle of Patrón before him about to hit rock bottom. Past 12 a.m. was usually when he finished hunting, but that night, he hadn’t even moved from his seat once. He was about to die of boredom, just staring at the dance floor blankly, turning people down left and right, which was very unlike his MO.
Because it had become too easy.
There was a reason he was called ‘Lasso’ — no one was safe from being bound rigid by his diabolical seduction. He missed that chase. He missed that feeling of triumph when someone finally caved to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt it because he didn’t even have to lift a finger anymore. He grabbed his phone and texted his debauched clique in an attempt to be saved from his misery, not expecting much with that birthday appointment they had.
While debating whether he should crack open a new bottle or not, his eyes fell on the two people by the bar talking to each other. He knew the man; that was Hongjoong, one of his boys from the football team, but he had never seen the woman before. Intrigued by the first-timer in his den, he immediately besieged her with his eyes.
The beautiful stranger was most definitely not a freshman. At least late 20s, exuding the confidence of a boss bitch, impossible to unsee once you took notice of her, and clad in black jeans and a biker jacket rather than the washcloths the rest of these hoes were wearing. Captivating package, ass on point, seemed to hold her liquor well considering how she was rock steady despite all the empty shot glasses stacked in front of them.
Fucking finally. Time to hunt.
Before he could take three steps, however, the duo started walking away from the bar towards the restroom. Not the public one, the one for staff use you could only enter with one of the three keys if you had enough to bribe the bartender.
…which meant this could play out in one of two ways.
Time was of the essence here. Minho counted to five once that door closed in the distance, then started walking with firm steps. He was so laser-focused on his target that every girl throwing themselves at him along the way was rendered completely invisible to him. His palm moist with sweat lingered on the doorknob for a while, and after taking a deep breath, he attempted to turn it.
The door opened.
Even if he couldn’t hear the loud sounds echoing, Minho would be able to tell what was going down in there since the smell of sex had permeated the entire room. His eyes immediately darted to the space under the doors to do a quick headcount. None of the stalls were occupied except for stall three.
He gulped thickly while locking the door behind him.
Everyone familiar with the inner workings of Lobos knew that this particular stall held grave importance. It was like leaving a sock on your dorm room handle, but as an invitation rather than a ‘Do not disturb’ sign thanks to the strategically carved hole between the second and third stalls.
“Louder, slut, or I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit for a week!”
“You’d better make sure I can’t fucking walk if you’re man enough!”
If it weren’t for the sounds of skin against skin, Minho would suspect an altercation was taking place. Even after listening for a while, he couldn’t be sure if they were moaning due to pain or too much pleasure.
Like it would matter…
He confidently entered the stall as though this was an arranged encounter all along, quickly dropped his pants, and shoved his throbbing cock into the hole.
“Oh look, someone joined the chat,” Hongjoong’s psychotic laugh was heard from the other side, “Now choke on it until the cum gushes out of your mouth.”
When he felt the pair of lips wrap around him that tightly, tongue swirling around his thick girth, the sensation was so intense that Minho slammed his hand on the wooden surface separating them. Now he was 200% sure this couldn’t be a freshman because who the absolute fuck had insane head skills like that? He was growing bigger and bigger in her mouth, but she wasn’t even gagging—better yet, she was taking him deeper. He wasn’t moaning anymore, he was growling like an animal in heat, fucking her throat with too much need like he was about to pass through that wall. He was battling the urge to barge into that stall and fuck whichever hole of hers was available because as great as this felt, it still wasn’t comparable to seeing his preys’ eyes roll back in real time.
He had to keep a souvenir of the best head of his life.
He reached for his phone resting on the lid, barely sane to remember how to operate it, and hit record. He wanted to relive everything from this moment when the craving hit. He wanted to perfectly capture her muffled moans while getting fucked hard with his cock in her mouth. He was maniacally smiling at himself when he sent that clip and received instant notifications in return.
Who knew? Maybe it was for the best that The Demon Twins weren’t around tonight.
Content with lighting the horny fire under the duo’s asses, Minho started fucking her throat faster, his moans climbing to a pitch that signaled he was about to douse her soon. It wasn’t long before his faceless seductress took the hint and began screaming on his cock, swallowing every string of cum as he shot it down her throat. He came so hard that his legs had turned to jelly, and even though he barely exerted any effort, he was sweating all over like he ran a mile.
“Good girl,” Hongjoong uttered in absolute satisfaction, “Give me a kiss.”
No one was to face each other when they were done; that was the cardinal rule. Minho waited for them to leave first, but he still caught a glimpse of the woman walking out when he exited the stall. Rather, something on her. The hint of a lower back tattoo peeking under her biker jacket. A Carlton City license plate. He sank his teeth into his smile, wits still nowhere to be found and about to melt into a puddle on the ground.
“God…damn, baby,” he stupidly chuckled to himself.
Exxxtraoddinary? Appreciate with a pudding.
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