One Plus Two Minus One Ch 01

Beth needed one night of not being herself. A night away from work and mathematics and people who assumed, because they knew her, that they knew everything she was.

She was at a warehouse party. She hadn't realized they still had them until some friends took her along. It was loud, and badly lit, and full of strangers, and that was what she needed. Lights too dim to see and music too loud to think. It was warm, muggy from too many people packed too close together, and the bass was so deep and full she could feel it in her chest when she breathed. She was sweaty and sticky with spilled drinks, and had been hit on so often she was just shaking her head no without even speaking any more. It was perfect. She was having a perfect night.

She was dancing, had been dancing with the same guy for ten minutes or so, and as far as she could tell in the darkness, he was hot.

She had a fuck-me dress and heavy makeup around her eyes and stripper heels. The shortest dress and the highest heels she owned, so high she shouldn't really be able to walk except she'd skated as a kid and still had good balance. Her legs looked good. She looked good. She looked nothing like a mathematician, and that was the point.

She pressed herself against the guy and could feel the heat of his chest through their clothes. "I need a drink," she shouted into his ear.

He looked at her and grinned.

"Drink," she shouted, and mimed it, then waved goodbye and turned away. Beth assumed she'd lost him then, that he'd forget her and dance with someone else.

There was a bar set up in a back corner. She wasn't sure how permanent or legal the whole place was, but they had a bar. She got some money out her bra, warm and damp from her skin, leaned over the counter and shouted, "Water," and pointed.

She stayed where she was, leaning forward, waiting for the bartender to come back. She didn't want him losing track of her in the darkness.

Someone put their hand on her hip, but she ignored it. It happened fairly often. Usually it was gross and creeped her out, and occasionally she didn't mind. Right now, she'd been dancing and forgetting and felt like the sexiest woman alive, so she didn't mind being felt up a little.

She stayed where she was, pretending not to notice.

The person moved, got right close behind her, leaned past her to get water too. She realized it was the same guy, the dancing guy. He must have followed her.

She looked at him and grinned.

He kept leaning forward, pressing against her a bit, so she was trapped against the bar. It felt good, that contact. It felt good to be a little bit trapped. He moved his hand slightly, put it on her ass like it being there was an accident, and she just grinned at him and let him. He might have been meaning to touch through her dress, she thought, but the dress was so short that he got bare skin. He looked surprised, for a moment, like he hadn't expected skin, but left his hand there, touching gently. Stroking Beth's ass, while she looked at him. She hadn't quite decided if she should get upset or not.

His hand felt good. Far too good for the kind of pervert who'd grope her at the bar. She decided not to make a fuss.

She opened her bottle, and sipped, and he watched her from inches away. She thought he was going to kiss her, and she wasn't ready for that yet. He was still waiting for his water, so she held her bottle out. He took it. Took it with his other hand, still feeling her up with the first. He drank, and she pushed back against his hand a little, just because. His fingers slid ever so slightly down between her legs.

He leaned over and said something in her ear. It might have been his name, but she couldn't really hear. She shook her head anyway, said, "Don't talk. Don't tell me."

He shrugged. He couldn't hear her, and she couldn't hear him, and that was kind of hot.

He was younger than her, she decided Definitely younger than her, probably only just old enough to get in here. She liked that, liked the idea of a one-night toyboy fling with a guy ten years her junior.

She took her bottle back, and he looked at her wrist as she reached over. She had Euler's identity tattooed there, quite small, black. She'd got it the night she finished her last undergrad exam, a bit tipsy, before she decided having pi tattooed anywhere on yourself was tacky. She'd probably been older then than the guy with his hand up her dress was now.

"Maths," she said, and he heard her that time.

"Yeah," he shouted, like that was obvious. "I know."

That was kind of hot. No-one had reacted like that before, even though any engineer or scientist ought to recognize it.

She nodded, and looked away. Looked around the room. He still had his hand up the back of her dress. He was rubbing the back of her leg, rubbing her ass, trying to get his fingertips into her underwear, into her. It was pretty deliberate now, he wasn't just feeling her up, he was trying to turn her on. She leaned on the bar, breathing hard, resting. Breathing hard from all the dancing, obviously.

She glanced around, checked no-one was looking at them. It was dark. No-one had noticed.

She was being felt up in the darkness, in a crowd of hundreds of people, strangers bumping her arm, her shoulder, reaching past her to the bar.

It was hot.

He waited until she looked towards him, and kissed her. She'd been expecting it, and kissed him back. Standing at the bar, pressed together, ignoring other people jostling them while trying to get their drinks. She thought he'd stop, after a minute, but he kept going. For a long time, far longer than anyone had bothered kissing her lately. He might have been high, since people got a bit funny and started touching strangers for hours at parties like this. He might have been worried she'd change her mind if he stopped. She didn't care why, she kissed him back. His mouth felt good against hers, soft lips and no spit and no tongue at all until she got desperate and opened her mouth first. And she had to respect that, making her do it, so she looked like the needy slut.

She leaned on the bar to keep her balance, and just kissed him, and whole minutes passed. She was standing at a bar and kissing a total stranger, and that was exactly what she'd needed to do tonight.

After a while, after five minutes, someone poked her in the back. One of the bar staff, smiling, but waving them away.

"Hey," she said, into the guy's mouth, "We have to move."

He couldn't hear her, shrugged.

She pointed across the room, pushed him gently. He got it, and took her hand, and led her across the room. Took her hand, she thought, in case she wandered off. She liked that. They pushed into gaps, worked their way through. There were people everywhere, and it took a while. A lot of corners were taken. He stopped and kissed her a few more times, just turned around and kissed her for no good reason, and that made her feel horny and wanted.

They found a space against a pillar, right at the back of the warehouse. The pillar was wide and square, unfinished concrete, and there was no-one on the hidden side away from the room. He tried to lean Beth's back against it, facing her towards him. She didn't want that, and resisted being put there. She wanted to be how they'd started at the bar, facing away, an anonymous hand up her dress. She didn't want to see his face, or talk to him, or know who he was. She shook her head, and kept turning herself around, and he got it after a moment and stopped trying. She leaned against the pillar, facing it, and he kissed her neck.

She'd ended up with him holding her arm in the small of her back. He hadn't let go of her hand when she was turning around, and her wriggling and turning meant it had twisted around with her. Her hand was now bent into the small of her back, behind her, like a bouncer's arm-lock, and he was pushing her forward, pressing her against the pillar, holding onto her wrist. Basically holding her there, helpless.

She knew she shouldn't like it, but she did.

He seemed to know it too. He pushed a little more firmly, so she was flat against the pillar, her face sideways, her cheek against rough concrete. He pushed his hips against her so she could feel his cock hard against her back. He kissed her neck, and held her arm, and she was so turned on she couldn't think.

Then he put his hand inside her underwear.

Beth should have screamed or jumped or told him to fuck off. She shouldn't have let him finger her in a crowded party.

She should have.

Instead she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the pillar.

It had been a long time since she'd got any, and he had just the right touch. He was barely inside her, parting her, just bumping down her lips. Gentle and faint and hardly there, compared to her wrist in her back and his hard body pressed against her. It made her concentrate on his hand. It made her forget the rest of the party around them.

She moved her feet a little way apart, so he could reach.

He went inside her. She closed her eyes and pushed onto him and felt him open her, up inside her. She felt spread and wet. He was rubbing in time to the music, although he probably didn't realize.

She realized she'd been holding onto the pillar, grabbing it with one hand, clutching tight against the concrete edge. She realized she was being rude.

She reached down, reached back, and did her best to rub him too, to rub him through his trousers like he was her. It seemed to work. His breathing against her neck got faster.

They stood there and felt each other up and barely moved.

The music began to get louder again. It made her pulse faster, made her breathing shallow. Music and darkness and standing here, hidden, made this intimate, made it just them. She was horny, wet, just tipsy enough to want this. The concrete scratched her arm as she moved, snagged her hair. She closed her eyes, and turned her face backwards, and kissed him. She needed this.

He moved, and it took her a moment to realize. He knelt, pulled her underwear down quickly. Did it without letting go of her wrist, still pushing her against the pillar. Beth just stood there, a little disbelieving, impressed he'd pulled that off. He touched her ankle, and she lifted up her feet so he could get the undies off. She put her hand down, fingers open, and waved until he gave her undies to her, then tucked them into her bra. She wasn't going to leave her underwear behind with a stranger at a party.

She wondered if he was actually going to try and fuck her here, and wasn't sure if she minded. There were people around, but no-one really clearly in sight, and it was dark, and they were hidden, and her face was under all her hair, besides.

She realized he hadn't come back up. She'd lost track of him. She looked down. He was trying to squeeze in between her waist and the pillar, and she didn't understand, but she let him.

He looked up at her, and smiled, and lifted up the front of her dress, and looked at her pussy.

Then he opened his mouth and started giving her head.

She could have stopped him. He was still holding her wrist, but not so hard she couldn't have pulled away. He put his other hand on her ass and pulled her forward onto his mouth and she went, willing. Pushed forward, and leaned her face on her arm, on the pillar, and tried to pretend they weren't here and she wasn't getting eaten out and there wasn't an audience of hundreds nearby.

She didn't look around in case the audience was actually there. Oral seemed worse than simply fucking, like it was too private, too personal, for a seedy warehouse.

He was good. He ate her out exactly the way his kissing had made her think he'd eat pussy. He drank her. He breathed her in. Her legs felt weak, and she couldn't think. He was holding her up, taking some of her weight with the hand on her ass, and she needed that because her legs weren't working that well any more. She tried to move her feet to balance better, but couldn't manage. She couldn't make her feet work any more.

She came. She felt it starting, and pushed down against him, and lost track of the world for a while. She was pretty sure he actually had to hold her up.

When she was done, he slid himself up, slid up between her and the pillar, and kissed her for a while with a mouth that tasted of her. Kissed her until her breath came back and her knees stopped shaking.

Then he turned her around, so her back was against the pillar, and finally let go of her wrist, and started gently pushing her downwards.

She looked at him, and couldn't quite decide. Getting head had been bad. Being caught giving it seemed completely undignified. She hesitated, then let him do it. Slid down into the dark space between him and pillar, and knelt, with his hands on her shoulders, and used both hands to undo his pants and take out his cock.

She held him. He was hard, so hard he trembled slightly in her hands, and hot like he might burn her skin.

She glanced around, unsure. They were right up the back, and no-one could see them without stepping completely into this last few meters of space, behind the line of pillars. She had a feeling people doing that weren't going to be looking at her. It was dark, too, and although it would be obvious what she was doing, it wouldn't be obvious it was her. Her face would be pressed against him, hidden by his arms and body.

She put him in her mouth.

She'd meant to go slow, to tease him, but he didn't seem to be able to wait. As soon as she opened her mouth, as he touched her lips, he lurched forward into her mouth. It gave her a fright but was flattering.

She sucked, and after that first lunge he was still. Like he was holding himself there, she thought, being careful not to thrust again and scare her. He was leaning over her, slumping like she had. His weight was on her shoulders, pressing down, enough she had to move her foot to balance better and hold him up. One hand made a fist on her shoulder, rested there, and one knee was trembling against her arm.

She sucked his cock. She knelt on a floor in a seedy party with a stranger's penis in her mouth, and tasted him, and felt him, and hoped no-one came along and found them.

She couldn't really use her hands. She needed one to balance on her shoes, and the other to hold his pants out her way. She did her best with just her mouth, sucking hard, her face almost pushed into the cloth of his pants.

The taste of him changed a little, and his knee shook a little more. He reached down blindly, like he was trying to find her, to grab her face or tap her shoulder or something. Either he was about to come, or someone else had turned up and he was trying to warn her. She could have jumped up, but it seemed a bit late now. She didn't really care at this point if someone was watching.

She stayed where she was, sucked harder, and he came. He jerked and spurted and filled her mouth with semen, all thick and warm and salty, more than she could manage. She swallowed, dripped a little onto her dress and knee, did her best.

She knelt on the floor in a crowd of people and let a stranger shoot his load in her mouth, and was so turned on she wanted to rub one out herself right there.

She slid back up the pillar, and kissed him with her mouth still sticky. He kissed her back, and didn't seem to care. She liked that. She always liked it when someone would kiss after a blowjob.

She wondered if he wanted more. She wondered if he was actually game to try and fuck her here, and wondering if she would.

She was about to try and see, and then her phone started to ring.

It was a bit annoying, vibrating in her bra, but she supposed the timing could have been worse.

*

She didn't get the phone out in time. It stopped ringing, then beeped, said, slut. Nothing else. From Amanda. Beth looked at the message, realized Amanda must know what she was doing. She looked around, trying to find her, but couldn't see properly from behind the pillar.

She leaned out the side and saw Amanda waving. She must have seen where Beth went.

Amanda texted again, we're leaving, and Beth waved to her.

"My friends," Beth shouted, and wasn't sure if the guy she'd just blown understood or not. She looked at the phone, looked at him, and couldn't decide.

She showed him the message, and made a waving gesture. It was too loud to talk about whether he should go with her.

He shrugged. Seemed a bit disappointed, but not very much. He wouldn't care, she thought. He'd just come in her mouth. She quite liked the idea of swallowing him, and walking away, and never seeing him again.

He took her phone, and put his number in it, and she thought that was kind of sweet. She wasn't going to call him, ever, but it was nice of him to try.

She kissed him, and he kissed back. She kissed once more, and then pulled free, and left.

She could still taste him in her mouth. She could still feel his tongue on her body. Her undies were still in her bra.

She followed Amanda outside, because apparently they were sick of the place and going to a real bar. She ducked down an alleyway and put her underwear back on, and Amanda spent the next five minutes laughing at her.

The rest of the night was dull, but Beth wandered about in a smug, happy glow. One of Amanda's friends had a fight on the phone with her boyfriend, and Amanda kept calling Beth names, and Beth just grinned and didn't care.

Later, when the night was over, she walked back through town in her fuck-me dress, barefoot in the spit and dirt of a Saturday night. Her feet ached, and she didn't care enough about what she was walking on to put her shoes back on, and the pavement was cool and scratchy and pleasant against her skin. She walked past drunks who called out to her, and past late-shift police who didn't give her a glance. She walked through the cool early summer's dawn, the sky turning pale blue and golden, through town and the edge of the university campus and back to her office, where she sat and worked for most of the day.

She was still tired and a bit hungry, but she could feel it again. Sex had cleared her head, got her concentration back.

She liked her life. Sometimes she forgot, and sometimes she needed to do things her way to remind herself of it, but she really liked her life. She was pleased to be her.