Diane couldn't say she wasn't used to it. On a crowded Saturday night like this, there was always some guy who put his hand on the small of her back while she was taking somebody's order, giving her the excuse that he was 'just letting you know I'm here'. Assuming he even bothered mentioning the casually lecherous touch at all. She usually let it go, so long as it wasn't a regular and so long as the hand didn't come to rest any lower down--if it did, well, that was what Wayne was for. He had twenty-inch biceps and a very long memory for men who misbehaved.

But this went way beyond misbehavior. Honestly, it kind of went past reason and common sense--the moment Diane felt the hand lightly pressing into the small of her back, she found herself completely losing her balance and toppling over forward onto the table of four she thankfully hadn't so much as delivered a round of waters to yet. Her feet didn't shoot out from under her or anything, but she suddenly felt so inexplicably top-heavy that her chest was almost painfully squashed and she found it impossible to rise back into an upright position. "That's it, babe," cooed the man who'd... not even shoved, just very lightly nudged her, his voice warm and resonant despite the general din of the bar.

At least the group she'd suddenly tumbled into seemed to be pretty tolerant of Diane's graceless flop... although she had to admit, even that raised a few red flags for her. Diane had been waitressing for a good few years now, and she'd dropped her share of plates and spilled her share of glasses, and even the most patient diner usually had a little bit of good-natured ribbing in store for anyone unlucky enough to take a clumsy turn in the middle of the bar. And those few that didn't at least winced in sympathy. But here she was, bent over the table with her ass sticking up in the air, and nobody so much as made a joke about her big tits giving her a natural tendency to overbalance.

Diane glanced around, at the very least expecting some of the regulars might have noticed, but no. The room was full of lively chatter and friendly conversation and absolutely none of it related to the waitress bent over the table right there in the middle of the room with her big tits squeezed underneath her and the wide, curvy ass she'd developed from enjoying the bar's food just a tiny bit too much sticking up and out like she was waiting for a spanking. It was... well, it was definitely weird enough to notice. The men in this joint usually did.

Diane tried to wriggle her way back onto her feet, but it was as if her muscles had forgotten how to lever themselves upright--no matter what she tried, it seemed like she was always one little slip and stumble away from flopping forward onto her chest. She felt like a tortoise on its back, embarrassingly helpless and stuck waiting for whatever came her way... which didn't take long, as she felt the man behind her inching her skirt up her ivory thighs with a tiny murmur of impressed satisfaction. "You're looking very nice tonight, Miss Diane," he said, still sounding so clear in her ears that it was almost as if he was speaking directly into her head. "Especially from this angle."

Diane didn't recognize the speaker--and she was certain she would have known if she'd spoken to him before, he had a husky, smoldering quality to his baritone voice that sent a little shiver down her spine despite her understandable anger--but obviously he knew her, or at least had seen her name tag before he toppled her over to obscure it from view. She tried to crane her head around to see who was talking, but that particular motion seemed every bit as elusive as levering herself upright and all she could see were the four men and women on either side of her, staring right past Diane at each other with slightly glazed expressions on their faces. Almost as though they didn't quite see her. Almost as though someone wasn't letting them know she was actually there.

It occurred to Diane that she wasn't worried at all about any of this. Not even a little. Mildly exasperated, yes. A tiny bit embarrassed as the skirt slid up and over her broad, curvy ass and exposed a pair of white cotton granny panties she didn't expect anyone to see tonight. But she wasn't even slightly concerned at all that a total stranger was groping her from behind while she wriggled helplessly in a whole room full of people. That... that was definitely odd. She knew that intellectually, but every time she tried to summon up the appropriate levels of fear and outrage they simply wouldn't come. As if they'd been numbed by some strange and impossible anesthetic.

Diane's panties slowly slid down her wide ass-cheeks and past her thighs. In the absence of the emotion she knew she was supposed to be feeling, all she could respond to the stranger's groping caresses with was a shy, hesitant arousal. "There's a good girl," the man purred, rubbing her now-exposed pussy and coming away with fingers that were humiliatingly wet. "I knew it wouldn't take much to get you hot and bothered. You really want to get fucked tonight, don't you, babe?" Just five minutes ago, the answer would absolutely have been no. But somehow that word had been surgically removed from her vocabulary.

"I--uhh, I, I, uhhh," Diane stammered, unable to find anything inside her unaccountably empty head save for a response she couldn't imagine saying out loud. She noticed her stance widening, legs parting of their own accord to lewdly display her plump pink pussy lips to anyone who might be so much as glancing in her direction. And yet the emotions she expected to associate with being put on exhibit for a whole barful of people simply didn't exist... and lurking around the periphery of their unaccountable absence was a tiny bit of uninhibited desire at being so completely exposed like this. Without anything to constrain it, it grew and grew to fill the silence in her mind.

"Oh, it's okay, sweetie, you don't need to be shy," the stranger said, his husky baritone caressing Diane's brain as easily as his fingers rubbed her dripping cunt. "I know what it's like when a pretty little slut like you gets her first taste of being shown off to the boys. It makes you want a nice big cock inside that hungry snatch of yours, doesn't it?" Diane's clit pulsed like a second heartbeat as she struggled to find any of the responses she knew she should have to being casually groped and demeaned and objectified, only to discover nothing but a widening expanse of warm wet lust in their place. She could feel her panties stretching as wide as they would go against her ankles as she spread herself more and more open, wordlessly begging to be touched.

"I--I wuh, wuh, wuh," she babbled uselessly, the words weighing down her thoughts until every other notion inside her head rolled down into the cavity they left behind. Diane knew that he was just waiting for her to admit how badly she needed to be fucked right now, waiting for that last tenuous bit of willpower to collapse on its own because it pleased him to see her lose at the game he'd so thoroughly rigged in his favor, and even though she couldn't be mad at him or scared about any of it a tiny bit of injured pride remained barely strong enough to hold back the sentence her stammering mouth was desperately trying to complete. But it couldn't last, not with those teasing fingers dredging the slick channel between her labia like that. Not when nobody even seemed to mind that she was bent over with her pussy out and her ass-cheeks quivering with excitement. "I w-want to be fucked," Diane admitted at last, her face flushed with arousal.

"Thought so," the man growled, pushing effortlessly inside her butter-slick cunt. His cock wasn't the biggest Diane ever had, but somehow she couldn't quite summon up the memory of what it felt to be penetrated by anyone bigger--she knew she'd had sex before, even remembered intellectually that it was a pleasant experience, but these thrusts seemed to hit her like she was riding dick for the very first time. She let out a strangled gasp of sheer, unmitigated ecstasy as her body involuntarily rocked back against his until her ass quivered like jelly.

His distracted state seemed to be affecting his ability to control the crowd--or at the very least, if they were seeing only what he wanted to see that now apparently included the way he was raw-dogging Diane's clenching, needy cunt. The couples at the table suddenly began to stare at their wild and uninhibited sex with bemused interest dawning on their faces, and Diane's embarrassed arousal only increased when they began to lazily reach out and tug her shirt up and off without any sign of understanding exactly why. They caressed her bare back as the stranger pounded her pussy, and soon Diane's expression contorted into helpless euphoria as she felt her first climax hit.

The stranger pushed her to a second, and then a third, before his thrusts became strained and erratic and he finally pushed balls deep inside her to let out a final grunt of effort that told Diane he was cumming hard inside her unprotected pussy. She strained her brain, trying to remember what her period tracker said about her cycle this morning, but there was no real urgency behind her feeble efforts and they soon collapsed into sated bliss. He'd taken away her ability to care. That seemed ominous somehow, but he'd taken away her ability to care about that, too.

She thought for a moment that would be the end of it, but just then one of the two men at the table stood up and went around behind her, undoing his fly as he walked to let out his stiffening cock and pushing into Diane's sloppy pussy only a few seconds after the stranger stepped away. It didn't feel quite as good as the first fucking she got--she had the distinct feeling his ego wouldn't let it--but it felt good enough, and soon Diane's eyes were rolling back in her head as a fourth climax smashed through her muzzy and unfocused brain. She was beginning to feel almost drugged by pleasure, unable to muster any kind of coherent speech beyond a few whimpers of "please" and "more" that she wasn't entirely sure came from her.

When he came, the man behind her was replaced by his friend, and then by one of the regulars up at the bar, and on and on until semen was leaking down Diane's thighs in rivulets and her eyes utterly refused to open anymore under the onslaught of sexual pleasure she was experiencing. No one talked about what was happening, no one commented on her limp and supine body as the repeated orgasms left her muscles wrung out like a dishrag, but somehow everyone knew when it was their turn to get up and wander across the room to fill her messy cunt with yet another load of jizz. Diane had given up even trying to understand it. She'd given up trying to think, period. It seemed so much easier to simply spread her legs for the next cock and enjoy the rapturous bliss of being used.

Wayne came to her right near the end, and it appeared that there were limits to even the stranger's power because she instantly noticed just how wide he was stretching her needy cunt. She felt his strong hands holding her hips, pumping in and out of the leaky mess that was her overflowing pussy with a jackhammer-swift motion that made her cum harder than anything else all night, and clearly it must have stung the stranger's pride just a tiny bit because he was inside her again just as soon as Wayne released his heavy load. He wanted to leave her with the memory of his prick above all else. And he had the ability to do it.

And once he finished up inside her, Diane simply fell asleep. It wasn't a conscious decision, she didn't intend for it to happen--she was simply so exhausted from so much vigorous fucking that she passed out right there at the table. When she woke up, the bar was empty and there was a roll of cash cushioning her head that was as much as she made in a week of tips... and although her mind still seemed to be her own again, Diane didn't feel the slightest bit of shame pocketing every last penny of it before she let herself out and staggered back to her car to head for home.

THE END