Pigtails was eating happily.
I was too.
The food was good.
Hot. Juicy.
And the griller was moaning next to the stall.
Pajamas was fucking her without pause.
The woman's tits bounced with each hip thrust.
An excellent view.
I watched as I chewed.
That pair was moving up and down with almost artistic synchronization.
Relaxing.
Hypnotic.
And it didn't seem like I was the only one who thought so.
Pigtails wiped her mouth with a napkin,
stood up,
and approached the pair.
She started sucking on the tits with enthusiasm.
And then it happened:
Milk squirted out of one of them.
Pigtails pulled back, surprised,
and then returned with more gusto.
"—It seems she's a mother.
Of a baby, for sure."
That didn't stop Pajamas.
On the contrary.
It motivated him.
He increased his pace.
I watched them from my seat.
I ate calmly.
But an idea kept spinning in my head:
"—I wonder what that tastes like?"
Maybe later, I'd ask Pigtails.
---
After the fuck and the food, everyone was satisfied.
Even the griller.
They decided to pay.
They didn't want to rip off a single mother.
While looking for cash, Pigtails —curious— asked the woman:
"—Why would you cheat on your husband having a baby?"
The woman looked at her without guilt.
"—I don't have a husband.
The guy who got me pregnant left me.
That's why I have this shitty stall."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Shitty stall?"
The food was very good.
And I wasn't saying it out of courtesy.
I'm a chef.
Pigtails looked thoughtful.
Then she smiled.
"—And if you work with us?"
The proposal surprised everyone.
But it made sense.
Pigtails had a good head for business.
And that pair of tits... was capital.
The griller hesitated but started talking to her.
As if trying to convince herself.
I watched them in silence.
"—Pigtails is good."
Even if the business is sex,
she has a head on her shoulders.
And a soul, in her own way.
---
It was time to leave.
And a basic truth hit me:
"—Where the hell am I going to sleep?"
I didn't want to go back to the park.
To freeze like the night before.
A bit embarrassed, I asked Pigtails if there was space in her alley.
At least there were walls there.
Something to cut the wind.
Pigtails looked at me as if I had asked if she lived in a dumpster.
"—Did you really think I lived in an alley?"
I stayed silent.
Pigtails sighed.
"—I have a house.
Although I almost never go there.
Besides, I can afford a hotel.
Or a cyber. It's cheaper."
Pajamas had been following her since the first day.
Like a shadow.
Silent, but with a roof.
I felt a bit... miserable.
Shame that stings.
But Pigtails didn't mock me.
She offered me something.
"—I'm going to a meeting with my friends.
In a hotel.
We're going to fuck.
Several girls and some guys they bring are going to arrive.
Want to come?"
It wasn't my type of party.
But...
it was going to be in a room.
With a roof.
And without wind.
"—I'll go" I said, without enthusiasm.
---
I was surprised to arrive.
It was an expensive hotel.
Very expensive.
The "room" was almost an apartment.
With a living room, a balcony...
and enough space for several people to fuck without touching.
I looked around, bewildered.
"—Is this an annual gals meeting or something?
Why did they set up something so big?"
She looked at me as if I had asked if water was wet.
"—Annual? No, Noa.
It's monthly."
"—Monthly?"
"—Of course.
It's the city's gals meeting.
Some come from wealthy families,
others have generous clients.
We pool money, rent a comfortable place...
and fuck.
Simple.
Precise.
Functional.
"—We bring our best clients.
Or we come to show off the best dicks of the month."
Sometimes they bring virgin girls.
Some by choice, looking for money or wanting to lose it.
Others... with pressure.
Or tricks.
Pigtails shrugged as if talking about a movie night.
"—You stay alert.
If you're lucky...
you might get to eat a virgin."
----
The monthly gals meeting was no small affair.
And I started to wonder:
"—Is this a party… or a damned secret society?"
A club?
A guild?
An elite whores' mafia?
And what rank was Pigtails at, if she had to fuck in an alley?
Was it by choice?
Or was she at the bottom of the barrel?
The doubt nagged at me.
Because there was everything here.
Businessmen in suits.
College students with faces that didn't know how to put on a condom.
A police officer.
And acquaintances...
The medieval guy. The naked guy.
I don't know how they got out of prison, but there they were.
And wherever you looked...
beautiful women.
Most of them around Pigtails' age.
Some in uniform.
Others in lingerie.
Some, directly naked.
Many were already sucking dick.
Or riding like they were on electric bulls.
If a guy approached, they opened their legs without thinking.
Or they got on all fours.
Happy.
The music was loud.
Forcing everyone to shout, laugh... or moan louder.
I was in shock.
Pajamas too.
Girls approached us.
They rubbed against us.
They took our hands and guided them to their tits, or between their legs.
Pigtails just smiled and greeted acquaintances.
As if she were at a family party.
I looked at her.
Confused. Intrigued.
And increasingly disconnected.
Near the balcony, I saw two familiar faces:
The schoolgirls from the alley.
They were dancing.
Slow. Close.
Almost kissing.
---
Pigtails went to dance with them.
Pajamas and I stayed still,
surrounded by half-naked girls,
not knowing where to put our hands.
Me, out of prudence.
I didn't want to touch something that couldn't be eaten.
Pajamas, due to physical limitation.
He only had two hands.
And both were occupied.
The girls were beautiful.
The lingerie made them look more appetizing.
A redhead stuck to me.
Good body. Coquettish smile.
But I looked at her...
and thought:
"—Nah. Impossible that she's a virgin."
Next to me, Pajamas was already hot.
Seeing that ass move drove him crazy.
He put her on all fours...
and entered.
And then, surprise.
Blood.
Dry moan.
Eyes wide open like plates.
Yes. She was a virgin.
Pajamas looked at me with a guilty face.
A "I fucked up" face.
I just sighed.
"—It was my mistake" I said without annoyance.
"Judging a book by its cover. It's happened to me before."
Pajamas seemed more relaxed.
He kept moving.
The redhead was moaning as if she had been turned on from the inside.
I moved away.
Not with anger.
With resignation.
---
I decided to look for something around there.
But I didn't find anything.
Maybe I arrived late.
Maybe they had already fucked them all.
Or maybe, simply,
the only one was that redhead.
I walked among bodies.
Couples fucking.
Threesomes moaning.
Women crying with pleasure.
Too many people.
I did a quick count.
At least 200 people at that party.
And that's not counting those who were coming and going.
---
The party —or crazy meeting—
reminded me of certain eccentric celebrations of celebrities in my world.
There were always rumors.
Sex.
Alcohol.
Substances.
Chaos.
And this one seemed the same.
But there was a problem.
The bartender.
The one they hired for the party...
was too busy.
Two girls had him trapped between their legs,
and he didn't seem to have any intention of leaving.
Annoyance started to grow.
Especially among the elegant girls.
The best dressed.
Those who clearly played in another league.
For them, this wasn't just about fucking.
It was image.
Event.
Reputation.
And if the important guests left upset,
they could lose clients.
And status.
---
I approached the bar.
I just wanted to make myself a drink.
Bad idea.
I saw them.
And they saw me.
Before I knew it,
I already had a cocktail shaker in my hand.
And a line of tits demanding mojitos.
"—To come to a hentai world to fuck...
and end up working again...
is the pinnacle of my existence,"
I thought.
But I did it.
I took out glasses.
I prepared drinks.
I filled cups.
And while I shook ice and liquor,
surrounded by bouncing asses and moaning girls nearby,
I could only think about how ironic it all was.
---
Working behind the bar has its advantages.
You hear rumors.
You make strange contacts.
You get favors.
Alcohol, although I don't like it much,
opens doors, legs, and secrets.
During my —almost forced— shift as a bartender,
I met the mayor.
The officer.
A couple of elegant girls gave me their cards.
More for business than for pleasure.
But it counts.
I met good people.
And dangerous people.
When the party ended, I had in my pocket:
— Several business cards.
— Some bills.
— And substances that, in my world, would be absolutely illegal.
"—Here... I'm not sure," I thought.
After all, the officer gave them to me.
A bit worried about my acquaintances...
or maybe already friends,
I decided to look for them.
---
Pigtails was in the hot tub.
Naked.
Laughing with her friends.
The water was murky.
Liquids dripping between her legs.
Clearly, she had enjoyed herself.
Pajamas was lying near the exit.
Knocked out.
Like a drunk doll.
Nothing unusual.
He ordered too many drinks last night.