“Good girl,” he murmured. His thumb brushed lightly over my clit through the wetness, and I had to bite my lip again to stay quiet. He kept pumping his fingers, slow and steady, in and out of my dripping pussy while I stood there trying to work. The wet sounds were soft but I could hear them, and I prayed the bar noise covered it.

He leaned closer again, his chest brushing my back. “You’re so fucking wet for me. This pussy is gripping my fingers like it doesn’t want to let go. I can feel how swollen your clit is. Bet you’ve been thinking about my cock all night,...