Ladies' Night at the Wargaming Club

The man was certainly not Johan. He glanced disinterestedly at Julie, still standing at the entryway. "What?" he asked, irritated.

Kylie's eyes flicked toward Julie as well, and she made a muffled noise that might have been a greeting or acknowledgment. The man was gripping her ponytail to pull her closer in towards his crotch, but Kylie seemed to be doing some concentrated bobbing of her own volition.

Julie stared. "This is the bathroom," was all she could get out.

The man gestured to the toilet with his free hand. "Go ahead, I'm not stopping you."

Julie knew something was off about this situation, but the guy sounded so confident, she found herself slowly walking over to the toilet and sitting down on it. Anyway, this was no crazier than some of the things she'd done at parties in her life. (While completely wasted. With friends backing her up. But still.)

She was treated to a front-row seat of the forceful blowjob, at a perfect side angle to see the guy's member sliding in and out of Kylie's mouth. And throat - Julie couldn't tell if Kylie was the one taking the lead on deep-throating, or if the man was forcing her deeper, but either way it was impressive. Julie had never seen anything quite like it: up against the rough walls of this grungy bathroom, getting facefucked like a complete whore, Kylie looked like a real cumdump. It was the only word that fit.

Julie peed, and when she wiped up, there was more than just urine on the toilet paper.

As she washed her hands, she couldn't resist one last glance at the scene reflected behind her in the mirror. As she watched, the guy tensed, grunted, and held Kylie's head down on himself for several long moments. Then he pushed Kylie away, zipped up his pants, and left without a word, leaving the girl coughing on the floor. Julie considered saying something to her, but decided that would be awkward, and hurried from the room.

She had to dodge to the side to avoid another middle-aged man who was on his way in. He wasn't headed for the toilet.

*****

By the time she had walked the ten steps down the hall to the game room, Julie already felt better. Why had she gotten so worked up about a couple of adults getting their sexy on? No reason for her to be embarrassed.

Besides, it was only a little more scandalous than the stuff that was going on all over. As she surveyed the room, she saw plenty of women looking much more disheveled than earlier in the evening: shirts askew, makeup smeared as neighboring men pulled them in for deep kisses, skirts hiked up as men casually played around with their pussies with one hand.

The games still seemed to be proceeding apace, though. Julie shook her head in disbelief. Wasn't that just like these gamer nerds. Any other men would probably be getting distracted trying to hit on all these attractive, flirtatious women!

The sound of a sharp crack drew her eye over to a table where they were apparently playing one of those card games like Slapjack or Egyptian Rat Screw, except instead of slapping the face-up cards in the middle of the table, they were racing to slap the exposed tits of a busty, nerdy-looking college-age girl who was lying shirtless on her back on the table. The cards themselves were balanced precariously on her quivering stomach. She girl was biting her lip and had tears in her eyes, but the other players were laughing merrily, so Julie figured that on average people were having fun.

Heading back to her table, Julie frowned again at the banners draped across the walls reading "Welcome to Sluts' Night." It seemed a little bit disrespectful. People didn't just publicly call women sluts, did they? Or maybe all the women here were all just sluts, and the banners were simply descriptive. She supposed that fit with what she'd been seeing. And with the fact that her own panties were getting fucking soaked with her juices. For god's sake. Why was she getting so turned on at a fucking game night?

She made it back to the table, where the game was now in its late stages, roads and towns spread out across the geometric island. Angie's corset was abandoned and her obscenely large boobs were out, and Isaac was casually kneading one with his hand like it was a stress ball, which made total sense because playing a complicated game competitively was probably really stressful. At first, Julie thought Grace was gone, but then she caught a glimpse of her under the table, between Frank's trunk-like legs.

Thinking that perhaps Keith hadn't noticed, Julie politely asked as she slid into her chair, "Um, is it okay that your girlfriend is, um...?" She inclined her head in the direction.

"No worries," Keith responded. "She's my sister."

"Oh." That was fine, then.

Just then, Julie's phone went off in her front jacket pocket. Oh my god! Julie thought, suddenly panicked. Snatching the device up, she confirmed that it was indeed a text message from Jenna... the last of several, she must have missed the others... inquiring where the hell she was. It was already well past 9:00. How had she lost track of the time?

"I'm missing the concert!" she wailed, loudly enough to draw the attention of players at neighboring tables.

"Hey, quiet down," Isaac told her.

"No, I'm not going to fucking quiet down!" Julie shouted at him, suddenly angry. "I've been looking forward to this concert for weeks, but I let you drag me to this stupid game night and, and..."

"Shut up, bitch, we're trying to play here!" an unkempt, stubbly dude in an anime t-shirt yelled back at her.

Julie was about to reply in kind, but Isaac stood calmly, putting down both his cards and Angie's melons, and came over to her, gripping her shoulders firmly.

"Julie," he said sternly. "You're making a scene. Everyone's just trying to play games here. Don't be a bitch."

"But..." Julie fell silent in the face of his steady gaze.

"Now, I'm sorry you missed your concert, but nobody was forcing you. You're the one who lost track of time."

Julie accepted the unimpeachable logic of this with a small, ashamed nod. She couldn't remember the last time Isaac had stood up to her so calmly, so confidently.

"So apologize to the nice people around us for being a stupid bitch, and we'll just move on."

"I'm not a..."

"You just admitted that you are."

Had she? Julie couldn't remember. Mostly she just felt very horny, and it was hard for her to think. Isaac must be right - all the guys here were so smart. But it was difficult to say the words.

Averting her gaze from Isaac's, Julie's eyes fell on one of the "Welcome to Bitches' Night" banners. Somehow that made it easier. At least she wasn't the only one here.

"Sorry for being a... dumb bitch," she said, raising her voice so the surrounding gamers could hear. The other girls nearby, who were mostly half-undressed, sitting on men's laps, or both, gave her looks of vague sympathy. The men's eyes were full of lust and disdain.

"Show us your tits, bitch," jeered the t-shirt guy.

Julie found herself looking automatically to Isaac, who nodded. Julie hesitated. She'd never done anything like this before as a public apology...

"Hurry up, whore!"

Then again, Isaac knew the social norms at a gaming club a lot better than she did. People were getting angry at her, and that didn't feel good at all. No way was she going to be the socially awkward one at a nerdfest like this.

She jumped to it. Quickly, she unbuttoned her blouse, which she'd so lovingly chosen to be sexy and flattering without looking cheap. It didn't look so classy now that she pulled it open to bare her chest, then reached back around and unclasped her bra to show her pert, close-set breasts. Julie felt her cheeks burn as the men around her frankly sized her up, then turned back to their games, sharing their off-hand judgments with their buddies. She caught "okay tits, shitty stripper," "I've seen better," and another dismissive "dumb bitch" from the guy in the t-shirt, who apparently had a rather constrained vocabulary.

Face red, Julie slunk back into her chair, turning to Isaac for confirmation that she'd done well. He looked unimpressed. "Hadn't you better apologize to someone else, too?"

Julie stared at him, mortified. Clearly she'd made some other faux pas and hadn't even realized it, but her mind was a complete blank. "Who?" she asked, dumbly.

Isaac nodded pointedly to Julie's left. Julie turned to look at Keith, who was eying her exposed chest with his narrow, intense stare and a crooked smile about his lips. Part of Julie wanted to cover up, but on the other hand, the speculative lust in his gaze was turning her on a little.

"Keith has been playing Catan all by himself for your team," explained Isaac. "You were completely zoned out for the first part of the game, then you ditched him for the bathroom, and made that big scene as soon as you got back. He's doing pretty good, too. Definitely has a shot at winning."

"Oh my god," said Julie, mortified. "I'm so sorry, Keith."

"It's cool," Keith said. "But maybe you should make it up to me." He casually reached over and tweaked her left nipple. Julie shuddered with pleasure. She was so fucking turned on. All she wanted was for this smart, hot guy to use those dexterous hands all over her body, then push her down and fuck her raw for hours...

"Maybe I could, uh..." she started, then stopped. Was this really okay? Would Isaac be upset? She looked over to him anxiously.

"Go on, slut," he told her.

So she did. "Maybe I could..." Have sex? Make love? That didn't seem like appropriate language in this particular social context. "...like, fuck you?" God, she sounded like some bubbleheaded bimbo. She tried again. "Please let me fuck you. To make up for it." There, that was better. Probably.

Everyone around the table laughed, which Julie did not appreciate. She was just trying to make an earnest apology.

"God, Julie," spoke up Angie (who'd been pretty quiet for the whole game so far, seemingly content to let her tits do the talking). "What a selfish cunt! You're supposed to be apologizing to him, and you're imposing on him even more just because you're feeling horny. What makes you such a prize, that getting to fuck you is such a fucking favor?"

"But I..." Julie felt like she wanted to cry. She was hot, right? She was fuckable! She'd spent an hour earlier that evening dolling herself up to feel sexy and fun, but apparently she was just a washed-out has-been compared to all these cute younger gamer girls who'd done such a better job dressing all slutty for the guys. No wonder she and Isaac's sex life had been so anemic lately.

"Now, now," Frank protested gently. "I think Julie is very attractive, especially with her cute tits peeking out. That distressed face that she's making is quite winsome, as well. Ten," he added, in reference to the dice he'd just rolled. The guys reached forward to pick up their resource cards. Julie felt deeply grateful for the compliments, which made her feel at least slightly less worthless.

"Yeah, Julie's pretty hot when she's not acting bitchy," Isaac supported, rearranging the cards in his hand. "That just doesn't happen much."

"I'm sorry," Julie mumbled down into her chest. Her nipples were rock hard from the air exposure, and she was practically squirming from the heat between her thighs.

Keith smiled at her. "No worries, Julie. I don't mind. Why don't you just get down and give me head until the game is over, and then I'll deal with your needy little fuckhole later?"

God, Isaac's game club friends were all so nice. Julie smiled gratefully and slid down under the table next to Grace, who had apparently finished with Frank and moved on to Isaac unannounced. Julie got a good glance at the cute Korean girl calmly and concentratedly slurping on her boyfriend's dick, trails of spit running down her chin. Looked like some intense tongue activity. Julie supposed she should be jealous or something, but she hadn't given Isaac a blowjob in so long, he obviously deserved one. And it wasn't like he wanted to go out with Grace, right? She was just a convenient cocksucking cumdump.

And what did that make her, Julie wondered briefly as she unzipped the pants of Keith (a man she'd just met that night), pulled them down to his ankles, and gently pushed apart his knees. When she saw his flaccid, uncircumcised member, she started unexpectedly salivating. Swallowing, she took it her mouth and started eagerly playing about the base of the head with her tongue. She was soon rewarded with more than a mouthful of rock-hard rod. She braced herself against the chair with one arm and shoved her other hand down her tight-fitting pants to access her clit as well as she could.

Julie had never really been into giving blowjobs, although she liked the teasing aspect of it: having total control over the pleasure her partner was receiving, making them groan and wait for release. This time, even while she was sucking a guy off under the table like a slut, Julie felt like she was the one being teased - she needed a cock like this plowing her cunt, ASAP. It was the only thought that her brain could handle at this point.

Almost, anyway. She retained just enough presence of mind to notice when the guys' conversation veered away from offers to trade stone for sheep, and on to other topics. Specifically, herself.

"Thanks for lending me your girlfriend, Isaac," Keith commented casually, after upgrading one of his settlements.

"No problem," replied Isaac. "When you go fuck her, make sure you bend her over and spank her, hard."

"She likes that?"

"Hates it." All three guys laughed heartily.

"Seriously though," Keith continued, "You don't want a piece of her yourself? You're always complaining that she doesn't put out enough, and now's your chance."

"No..." Isaac said, thoughtfully. "She's been getting to be more and more of a bitch the longer we've been together, I'm really fucking sick of her. All I want from her tonight is to put her in her fucking place." He groaned happily. "Besides, your sister is an unbelievable cocksucker."

"Thank you," Keith answered graciously, as if he was the one getting complimented. "Since I've started bringing her to game nights, she's gotten plenty of practice. But nobody's quite as eager as a first-time attendee." Julie felt Keith's fingers run affectionately through her hair. Even that much physical contact almost made her shudder. She moaned slightly around his member.

"Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid you've both allowed feminine distractions to impact your play, because I have just won the game," Frank announced. He revealed his newly-drawn development card, which had given him his tenth and final victory point. Amid groans and begrudging congratulations from his opponents, they began to pack up.

Julie pulled herself off of Keith's still-erect cock, swallowed her spit, and extracted herself from under the table, pulling herself up onto her unwarmed chair. Her jaw and neck were sore, but these minor pains were joined by a new one as Keith finished filling a tiny plastic ziplock bag with orange wooden game pieces, calmly sealed it and put it back in the box, then slapped her sharply across the face. Julie was too shocked to even respond, beyond lifting her hand automatically to her stinging cheek.

"Nobody told you to stop," Keith explained, perfunctorily. Julie saw now that Grace, for her part, had not. In fact, Isaac had just started chatting with a greasy-looking nerd at a neighboring table, and as Julie watched, he rotated his chair away from the table to face his conversation partner. Rather than interrupting her ministrations, Grace scrabbled awkwardly sideways on all fours like an overeager dog in order to keep her mouth firmly enveloping Isaac's fuckstick. She was sucking cock out in the open, without even the plausible privacy of the table. A passerby stopped to flip up her demure skirt and grab her pussy through her baby-blue thong panties, and Grace moaned audibly. Out of shame, or pleasure?

"Come on then," Keith directed, zipping up his pants. Julie meekly followed him out of the game room. Isaac didn't even glance her way as they left.

*****

Julie hadn't thought this whole "getting fucked by one of her boyfriend's friends at a nerdy-ass wargaming club" thing completely though, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd expected that a bed would be involved in the process. Or at least a mattress, tastefully stashed in a back storage room. Or at least a private bathroom with a locked door, even though she knew intellectually that no such place existed.

Where Keith actually led her was the smallest of the three gaming rooms, dominated almost entirely by a huge green-felt covered wargaming table. It must have been ten feet long or more. Even under ordinary circumstances, you would have had to scootch around the sides of the room to navigate your way across.

Julie assumed it wasn't ordinary for the floor to be covered with a plastic sheet, and a half-dozen attractive young women to be bent over the gaming table, skirts flipped up and undergarments around their ankles, getting publicly reamed from behind by sweaty but mostly-clothed men. Julie's ears were assaulted by breathy moans and the wet slap of cocks thoroughly plumbing womanly cunts. It smelled like sex.

Keith pushed her past a tall, long-haired man and his petite cocksleeve to a clear spot at the table. Reaching around from behind her without comment, he roughly undid the front of her jeans, and jerked both them and her rather moist panties most of the way down her legs. He pushed Julie's torso down and forward, almost to the surface of the table. She braced herself with her arms, elbows in, clutching the felt. A moment later and Julie finally felt her pussy lips forced open, and his cock stretching her out from the inside.

She moaned in bliss. Any qualms she'd had about being used as a sex object in this makeshift orgy evaporated when faced with the satisfaction of finally feeling a man inside her. It felt so right. Her whole body vibrated with each thrust; she was hyper-aware of the sensation of her open blouse brushing against the sides of her chest.

Julie's eyes were open, staring close-up at the surface of the table normally used for pushing around little painted plastic men. Wargames. Isaac and his friends spent their time playing at war, at crushing and dominating their enemies. It hadn't struck her until now just how fucking manly and dominant that was.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed like that, mind mostly blank, pussy on fire. Suddenly, she felt someone reaching under her chin to turn her to the side. Julie raised her head in surprise, following its lead.

It was the girl most directly across the table from her. Her head was a little left of Julie's, facing in the opposite direction. She had short-cut, stylish blonde hair that framed a round, cute face with wide eyes and full lips. Those lips soon opened, the girl leaning closer to force her tongue into Julie's mouth.

It was a sloppy kiss; it was hard to be precise when their bodies were both rhythmically getting pounded. Still, the other girl was insistent. Intellectually, Julie wasn't sure how to respond. She'd certainly never had any desire to kiss another girl for any reason other than conspicuous (and usually drunken) naughtiness. But her brain was not in the driver's seat right now, and "no" was not in her functional vocabulary. She just moaned more loudly.

"Hey, Bryan," Keith addressed the man across the table for the first time. (Although they had exchanged manly a nod of acknowledgment when Keith had first set up.) "You see this?"

"Yeah, I know," the man grunted. "My daughter's a dyke. 'S fine with me, I figure she's an adult, can live her own life and all."