Her friends bumped him with their Birkins as they passed him by the bar, but her eyes lingered and her pussy wept. 

His sweat—her favorite cologne. 

Soon they spilled into the alley, her sucking in his whiskey breath and tugging on his jeans. 

Calloused hands groped her before he growled. “Touch your toes.”

Her nails dug into her ankles and her silky tendrils swept the filthy ground as he split her open with his cock. 

After they’d cum, she looked at him and saw herself—a no-good dirty girl…

…and crept away in Louboutins that would never fit quite right.