Nightclub

We have a nice little nightclub in our neighbourhood. It used to be a picture theatre, becoming a warehouse when videos drove the theatre out of business. The warehouse closed down and for a few years the place sat idle. Then some bright spark decided to make it a nightclub and it's been doing a nice little business.

Having mainly local custom the place was basically a bar with dancing and fancy lights. That suited the normal clientele quite nicely.

One night the nightclub was discovered. We were invaded by a bunch of pretentious yuppies, apparently wanting to see how the other half play. The general opinion of the locals was that the yuppies were a bunch of arrogant turds and we'd just as soon they went back where they came from.

As far as I could tell, the yuppies considered the locals to be an inferior life-form that might vaguely be considered human, but were to be condescended to. They didn't actually pat anyone on the head and say, good boy, but you got the sense that they were thinking it. Got right up the nose of some of the boys. It was a wonder that a couple of the yuppies didn't get invited out the back for a discussion on attitude. (Actually, I think they probably were, but they had too much sense to accept the invitation.)

Mind you, some of the women they brought with them weren't half bad. Not the type of young lady you'd be in a hurry to kick out of your bed if you found her there. Not that it was likely to happen the way they seemed to regard us. We were a step above brutish animals from the way they reacted when you tried to con one into a dance. This attitude wasn't helped by Barry. Mister Smooth actually charmed one lovely lass onto the dance floor and spent the dance groping her. She was lucky to get off the dance floor with her dress still on, and she was not backward about letting her opinion be known.

Out behind the main room of the old theatre was a corridor with the facilities, office, and storerooms. It was really a very nice corridor, fitted up as befitted a picture theatre. No crappy old plaster for this corridor. It had wood panelling, oak, would you believe, and the owner actually spent some money having the wood waxed and polished.

I happened to be coming along the corridor when there was this yuppy chick there. She was taking a good look at the old panelling, apparently appreciating the workmanship.

"The panelling dates from when the place was a picture theatre," I told her. "The owner likes it and keeps it polished."

"It's awfully good," she said. "This type of thing is far better than the dreary plaster or instant walls that most places have. It's a pity it's so expensive to do this sort of work these days."

"The office and the Wanna room have the same sort of panelling," I told her. "It's really something to see."

She blinked, looking slightly puzzled.

"Um, what's the Wanna room?"

"Oh, that's what we call that room over there," I said, indicating a stockroom. "It's open to the public if you would like to see the panelling."

"Um, I wouldn't mind," she admitted, and I steered her over to the stockroom and let her in.

It was pretty obvious that the room was just a stockroom, even if it did have some excellent panelling.

"Why does a stockroom have such nice panelling? I'd have thought the owner would have it pulled out and sold it. He could make a tidy sum on the wood."

"The cost of replacing it would be more than you think. This used to be an office and this room and the actual office are both soundproofed. Again, that dates back to the picture theatre. The people in the offices didn't want to hear the shows all the time."

"Oh. Ah, why do you call this room the Wanna room? Does the name mean something?"

"Oh, yes. This is where the hot-blooded young men bring their girlfriends when they wanna spend some quality time with them. That's why I let you in here. I wanna spend some quality time with you."

"Um, flattering," she said with a laugh, "but I don't even know you so, if it's all the same to you, I'll pass up your offer."

"It's not all the same to me and it wasn't exactly an offer."

I was looking her over, enjoying the sight of her. She was young and attractive, dressed for a night out. Her dress was short with shoelace straps and I suspected that she wasn't wearing a bra.

I guess she read my intentions in the way I was looking at her.

"No way," she stated firmly.

"Yes way," I said, smiling. "I'm going to lift up your dress, pull down your panties, and roughly fuck you. It will be interesting."

"If you so much as lay a finger on me I will scream"

"No, you won't," I told her, sounding quietly confident.

"What the hell makes you think that?"

"Partly because I just pointed out that this room is sound-proofed. Partly because you're curious. If you scream and run away you'll always wonder, what would have happened if I'd stayed? The curiosity will eat at you. What will it be like if this man grabs me and just takes me, no matter what I want? Where else can you find yourself in a situation where you're going to be raped, but in a relatively safe environment?"

"How can you use the words rape and safe in the same sentence? Do you seriously think I'm going to let some uncouth brute just grab me?"

"This uncouth brute is not only going to grab you, he's going to use you in the way a man is supposed to use a woman. I won't be making gentle love to you. I'll be taking you."

"Oh, wow, so macho," she said with more than a touch of sarcasm. "I'm surprised that you haven't whipped your cock out to impress me with your manly attributes."

"That would be crude, but by all means, feel free to unzip me and see what you will be getting."

Her eyes flicked down to my crotch and a rather noticeable bulge. She blushed and looked elsewhere, glaring at me when she saw me smirk.

"You're being ridiculous. If you'll excuse me, I'm leaving."

She didn't, however, make any effort to move around me. She just stood there, looking at me defiantly. I moved nearer and she backed up, all the way to that nice panelling. I reached down and hitched up her dress, exposing her panties.

"Stop it. You can't do this," she protested.

"Then make a fuss. Scream and struggle. Bring down the forces of righteousness upon me."

My thumbs hooked onto her panties and pushed then down. I slid a hand over her mons, down and between her legs, stroking her pussy, though only lightly at this stage.

"I'm serious," she hissed at me. "Let me past."

I straightened up, moving my hand away from her pussy. I used it lower a shoulder strap, tugging it down until her breast popped out of the bra cup built into the dress. For a moment I admired the lovely white shape of it and then I leaned forward and took the nipple into my mouth, sucking lightly.

She stayed absolutely still while I sucked on her breast. The only sound she made a stuttered, "No," whispered in a low voice. I lowered the other strap, letting a matching breast appear. Not wanting to play favourites, my mouth crossed over and caught the new nipple.

Her hands were on my shoulders, pushing at me. She had to be kidding. My two year old niece could push harder. While I tasted her breasts my hand closed back over her mound, but a lot more firmly this time. I rubbed my hand hard against her, letting her know my intentions. She was squirming slightly, muttering feeble little protests.

I took a step back, undoing my trousers and letting them drop. Her eyes were wide, staring at my erection, slowly shaking her head. Crouching in front of her I took her panties the rest of the way down, tapping an ankle to encourage her to step out of them.

Standing again, I moved closer, my erection lightly brushing against her.

"Lift your leg," I told her, patting her right thigh.

"Why?"

"Why do you think? I'm going to wrap it around my waist so I have better access." I'd have thought that would have been a no brainer.

"I won't do it," she muttered.

"I'm assuming that you don't want to find yourself lying on the floor while I take you," I pointed out. "Alternatively, if you're on your hands and knees you'll get them dirty. Of course, you can turn around and lean against the wall, I guess."

I patted her thigh again and she gave me a nasty look, but lifted her leg. I caught it, pulling it higher and hitching it around my waist. She was now wide open to me, with my cock along her slit, pressing against her lips.

I eased my cock into position, the head pressing firmly against her. She was staring at me, looking as though she couldn't really believe this was happening.

"You're not really going to do this," she muttered, shaking her head slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Oh my god, you are," she gasped, as my answer to her question was to press firmly forward.

I had played with her enough to have started her arousal quite nicely. Her passage was wet and ready, even if she was a trifle reluctant. My assessment of her was that she had some experience, so I figured I could afford to be a little rough without hurting her at all.

As soon as my cock had eased past her lips I pushed hard into her, driving home with one firm thrust. She gave a startled cry, but her leg tightened convulsively around me, helping to pull me in. From that auspicious beginning I went to work.

My hands were on her breasts, mauling them, rubbing them roughly, enjoying the feel of them, pinching her nipples and generally teasing them. At the same time I started driving home hard and fast.

I had wondered if she'd just stand there while I took her, but after that first startled shriek, and what was probably an involuntary clutching of me, she started working with me, pushing hard to meet me as I drove in.

OK. I know I said that I'd be simply taking her, but it would be rude to not give some consideration to her feelings. I watched her reactions as I drove in, trying to spot clues as to what she liked and what she didn't. It quickly became apparent that she liked being helpless and used. The rougher I was the more she responded. I couldn't help but wonder what she'd do if she ever met a sadist. I was only pretending to be rough and tough and she was lapping it up.

I took her relentlessly, thrusting in hard, and she gave out gasping little cries, pushing frenziedly to meet me, apologising for I know not what, demanding I take her harder yet. I pressed my body firmly against her, almost crushing her against the wall, while my hips worked overtime, my cock lunging forward with hard thrusting strokes.

I couldn't keep that sort of performance up for too long, not without risking friction burns to a certain delicate part of my anatomy. Fortunately, I only had to go long enough. My own climax was assured. I was ready and past ready, purely hanging on out of courtesy. From the tone of her little cries, she was heading quite rapidly towards her climax, just needing that final helping hand. I was quite happy to provide it.

I drove in with some quicker strokes, sacrificing length of stroke for increased speed, really banging into her. Her muttering and gasping cries changed to an, "Uh, uh, uh," expressed in a rising crescendo and then she was shuddering and shaking, wailing softly as she climaxed. Me too. Climaxed, that is, not wailed. As soon as I saw she was going I just relaxed and let things flow, nature taking its course with great speed.

I disengaged and tidied up my clothes while she slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily and looking slightly stunned.

"There you go," I said. "Any day you learn something new is a good day and you've learned some new things."

"What do you mean? What have I learned?"

"You've learned why this room is called the Wanna room and you've learned how the other half play. I'd mention other things but modesty forbids."

She glared at me while she straightened her clothes, but it was only a very half-hearted glare.

She opened her mouth to make some sort of cutting remark and then shut it again when nothing came to mind. She contented herself by turning up the wattage on the glare.

"Things could have been worse, you know," I pointed out as I politely escorted her back to the main club.

"Oh, really? How, pray tell."

Luck was with me. Barry, at his oiliest, was slithering along the corridor towards us. It was odd. He could charm a girl in nothing flat, and then lose her even faster. I could never see what any woman saw in the repellent little rodent for even long enough to be enticed onto the dance floor. What was better was that Billy was with him. Billy was his nick-name, not his real name. It was short for billy-goat, an animal he resembled in two ways, a scraggly beard and a terrible smell.

I nodded towards Barry and Billy.

"You might have met those two out here. How would you fancy a trip to the Wanna room with them?"

She gave a delicate little shudder, acknowledging the point.

I saw her into the main club room, but didn't go in myself. I headed homeward instead. It had been an interesting night.