"Shit, baby. I ain't chicken." He twisted his finger under the elastic at her crotch, sinking his finger into the syrupy ooze of her hot pussy. "If you want to get off, I'm just the man who can do it."

"I was hoping you were," she panted, squirming on the plush seat. She wriggled her ass and humped his invading finger. She leaned back, stared up into the darkness and licked her lips. "God, I'm so hot!"

"Unnnn," Frank moaned. He twisted around, brought his mouth to her neck. He bit hard, frustrated with her panties as they dug into his fingers and kept him from gouging deep.

Gretchen felt the same way. Her panties were in the way. "Take them off me." It was a hot whispered request. "Take off my panties." She lifted her ass and together they yanked down her panties. "Ouch, God, it's cold."

Frank grinned and looked over at the door. The bartender was oblivious to what they were doing. He returned his attention to Gretchen. With her panties off, he was free to roam between her parted thighs and he took advantage of it.

"Christ," he growled, his mouth against her throat. "You're a fuckin' oven!"

"Mmmm," she crooned, her legs spread under the table, his fingers digging erotically into her cunt. She breathed hard through her open mouth, saliva trapped in her throat. "My cunt. Rub my cunt." She humped slowly against his fingers.

Frank obliged. He pinched the hard, blood-filled cunt between, his fingers and she moaned. "Easy, baby," he rasped, his mouth against her ear. "We don't want to draw a crowd."

"Why not?" she sighed, her tits heaving, aching. She didn't care. Revenge had robbed her of reason. "A crowd would be nice." She gasped as his fingers destroyed her clit. "Don't pull it off!" She turned her head, blue eyes glazed. "You enjoying yourself?"

He jammed three fingers into the gaping hole of her oozing cunt and watched her blue eyes roll up into her skull. He twisted his fingers, enjoyed the sight of her face twisting in agonizing pleasure.