Nightclub Madness

The crazy world is getting crazier and crazier, and it's driving me crazy too. The arrival of night reveals the wonder of darkness.

I'm an ordinary university teacher, average-looking, with a rather slow and harmless personality. I'm usually quite introverted and don't talk much at school, especially after my divorce, I've become even more silent. Although many people pursue me, I know they're only after my body. Although I lost my virginity to my ex-boyfriend long ago, I'm still quite reserved about sex. I've always enjoyed a lively life, but I'm not promiscuous. I rarely dress provocatively for nightclubs, as I'm easily mistaken for a slut.

But today, it's the first time I've gone out in such a short miniskirt, and my underwear is just tiny lace. I don't even know why I'm wearing it, but I don't want to go back and change. Anyway, as long as I don't get exposed, that's fine. I'll just drink and dance, no one will notice my clothes, right?

Walking to the nightclub to enjoy the madness, I'm quite nervous. I'm really afraid a gust of wind will blow my skirt up, and I'll be so embarrassed!

Finally, I arrived at the wild nightclub. My emotions had calmed down considerably, and the blaring music instantly stirred my excitement. At that moment, I forgot I was wearing a short skirt and unconsciously swayed to the music, as if all the pressures of my life were being released—it felt so good.

Swaying, I weaved through the swaying crowd to the bar. "Waiter, Martini!" I expertly ordered a drink. Leaning back at the bar, I sipped my drink, watching the people dancing wildly on stage, enjoying the pre-dance frenzy.

Setting down my glass, I swayed my supple body and jumped onto the dance floor. The atmosphere was contagious; to the energetic music, I wildly shook my hair and wiggled my hips, completely unaware that my short skirt was swaying along with me. Soon, several men gathered around me, pressing close, perhaps because of my body, which I was so proud of, or perhaps because of my revealing outfit. I ignored them, continuing to immerse myself in my own world of release. Then, someone leaned against me from behind, pressing very tightly. I tried several times to ask him to stay with me, but he wouldn't listen, so I gave up. However, feeling the man's breath on my ear, I suddenly felt a ticklish sensation. Then, he went even further, placing one hand on my waist and the other on my buttocks.

I was surprisingly disappointed. Why didn't his hand go inside? When did I become so lewd? Feeling that hand kneading the tender flesh of my buttocks, my vagina started to secrete fluid. How embarrassing! Then, his hand slipped under my skirt, finally making intimate contact with my skin. My buttocks tickled, making my heart itch too, and he seemed to be deliberately teasing me, never touching my vagina, only lingering on my buttocks. My vagina uncontrollably leaked fluid profusely. Afraid my underwear would be soaked, I finally struggled free from the man and ran to the bathroom.

When I got to the bathroom, I took off my underwear and found it was indeed completely soaked. I touched my own vulva, and suddenly realized how wanton I was. A sense of emptiness washed over me. Did I really crave a stranger to fill my void? I composed myself, washed my face, and stepped back into that wild world.

Outside, I found a seat and ordered another martini.

"Hey beautiful, is this seat taken?" Just as I was drinking, a voice approached. It was the man who had been touching my butt earlier.

I smiled and nodded, letting him sit next to me. He raised his glass to drink with me, but I noticed his gaze was fixed on me. Then it dawned on me that I was wearing a tank top, and my half-cup bra was revealing most of my breasts—quite conspicuous, no wonder people were staring. But strangely, I didn't feel any aversion. Instead, looking into his burning gaze, a strange, itchy feeling welled up inside me again. I put down my glass and began to scrutinize the man. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, fairly good-looking, but wearing a shirt, he didn't look like one of those thugs; he seemed more like a hypocrite.

By this time, I was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Swaying to the music, my body inevitably brushed against him. He then pulled me close, and I felt quite comfortable. I reached out and placed my hand on his chest, looking down at his heaving breasts, and inhaling his scent, I began to feel dizzy. Just as I saw his hand about to reach under my skirt, he suddenly stopped and pulled me up.

"Where are we going?!" I asked, my voice trembling with drunkenness.

He didn't answer, just pulled me towards the restroom. I was so dizzy that I didn't care what he was taking me for; I just followed him. When we reached the restroom, he pushed me into a women's stall, helped me sit down, and then, as soon as he closed the door, turned and hugged me. I, still dazed, hugged him back.

He eagerly slipped his hand under my neck, grabbing my breast, kissing my neck, and stroking my thigh with his other hand. A moment later, my suppressed desire erupted uncontrollably once more, responding to his caresses. The stimulation was so intense that I reached down and touched his crotch. He was already rock hard. I pulled down his pants and underwear, grasping his burning penis in my hand. The stimulation intensified; his cock was so big and hot! By then, he had already unhooked my bra through my vest, and my panties had been pulled down sometime earlier.

"Mmm...mmm..." As he caressed me, my vagina kept leaking fluid, and he was sucking on my love juice, making my vagina feel even emptier. At that moment, my whole body felt weak and powerless.

"Come on...mmm...I feel so bad...mmm..." At this point, I no longer cared about saving face, looking at him like a wanton woman, hoping he would fuck me.

Hearing me say this, his mouth finally left my vagina. He quickly pulled down his pants and, with the large penis I had longed for, aimed it at my vagina and thrust it in directly.

"Ah... um..." I felt myself reach orgasm instantly, my nerves trembling uncontrollably, my vagina contracting rapidly with each tremor.

He flipped me over, making me lean against the wall, and thrust into me forcefully from behind, my buttocks slapping loudly with each stroke. I felt like I was about to die, my nerves trembling with each thrust, so I twisted my hips to match his movements, hoping he would penetrate even deeper. And with my swaying, his penis indeed penetrated even deeper, my clitoris being repeatedly struck by the hot glans, waves of

tingling sensations making me roll my eyes back. "Ah..." Finally, I could no longer withstand such stimulating physical contact, and after his violent thrusting, my vagina convulsed again, and I ejaculated once more. Then, he thrust hard into the deepest part of my vagina, reaching my G-spot. "Ah..." A torrent of hot fluid gushed out, almost making me faint from the heat. After

he ejaculated, he pulled up his pants and left without a word. I lay sprawled on the toilet, too weak to get up for a long time, only able to sit and savor the lingering warmth of the sudden stimulation.

I touched my messy lower body and couldn't help but wonder: Having sex with a complete stranger in a nightclub—am I a slut?

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