<strong>Tagged:</strong>Wiggy<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Rusty Mullet<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Dave eyed the tall man entering the room, the scars on his hands and neck a telltale sign that he was a brawler. He simply continued ‘cleaning’ a used glass with an even dirtier cloth, smearing the filth out even more. It had been an ok shift so far. A few fights and only one death, not to mention a few good looking females that seemed to be somewhat disease free. No doubt he would be getting a few more costumers due to that last one. He sighed as he poured another man a drink, eying him and his clothing before he did so. He disliked shooting, although he did not hesitate to do so when someone made trouble or did not pay. He nodded to Sam, the hired help, as the boy placed a few empty glasses in the sink. He was about to say something to the boy when he noticed his paling face. He cocked his head to the left, glancing at the end of the bar that was lacking proper lights. He noticed immediately what had the boy so startled.<br/><br/>The man who had previously ordered a lot of beers was slamming his fist against the bar, grunting strangely. Dave thought he was still sober when he had given him his order. Why was the man acting so strange, And where was his female companion? “G-g..Grey…Merc.” The boy stammered out, pointing at the young male. By the time Dave had put two and two together, he noticed the man bending forwards, lifting a woman from the floor, easily. Dave barely had enough time to process that a high ranking driver was in his bar, was half naked, and suddenly lifting a even more exposed female from a crouched position onto the bar. He simply slammed her rear on the hard bar-surface, slamming beer bottles away with his left arm.<br/><br/>The man’s eyes could only be described as feral, a wolf concentrating on a prey. He eyed the woman and charged, teeth seeking her neck like a predator would do on a gazelle. He sank them in her flesh, marking her just up to the point of nearly drawing blood. His two hands went for her waist and began to message the skin just above her hips, drawing the skin over her toned stomach. He had a grin that spoke of mischief and a boyish pride. He grabbed the woman’s hair and pulled it downwards, arching her back and allowing him to see over her frame, eyes connecting with both Sam and Dave. Dave himself actually took a step backwards, hands unconsciously moving towards the part of the bar where his shotgun was located.<br/><br/>“A bottle of Firefly and salt.”<br/><br/>He barked, eyes asking. No!.. demanding it. He then let his eyes wander on his female captive again, not bothering to watch any of the peasants that stood behind the bar, looking confused. Dave heard the man whisper to the woman, a low and soft tone. Although it was soft, Dave thought he could guess what the man was saying. “I am going to fuck you on this bar until either you break your hip or the wood cracks.” Dave actually swallowed, not sure if he was to be angry that such an act was happening on his bar, or be impressed at the gall of this man. Sam, the boy, grabbed the salt bottle and booze as he rushed towards the man, nearly dropping it entirely. He handed it to him, hands shaking and moist from his clammy hands. He actually lowered his head in the presence of this man.<br/><br/>Dave had seen the last few interviews of this man, the hunger and boredom in his eyes. This was a man that drove a machine until the breaking point, and then some more, driving at the most unstable and hostile tracks in the word. He himself had a kill count of 16 on his name, most of them done by either sword or by driving them into obstacles. This was a murderer who was worshiped instead of imprisoned. A man who simply looked bored during interviews, as if he disliked talking to ‘lesser’ men, using only words that a child could understand, as if he had to lower himself in both speech and mindset in order to communicate with the plebs. A man like this was not to be fucked with. Dave grinned inwardly, knowing he was going to make a fortune tonight. “Boy” He whispered, dragging the kid towards him, eyes never leaving the Grey Merc. “You rush out of this bar and tell everyone you see that the Grey merc is fucking a woman on my bar and is going to make her howl like a banshee in heat. You tell everyone! You hear?” He slapped the boy’s ears as he sent him off, hearing the footsteps behind him rushing out. His bar that could only hold about fifty men was going to be cramped and crowded.<br/><br/>He noticed the man eying ‘his woman’, his hand that held her hair was forcing it upwards, causing her head to bent forwards, looking at him. He bit of the cork and spat it out in a random direction, no doubt hitting someone. A few other men were starting to see what Dave was seeing. The man let out a steady line of liquid, filling the woman’s navel. He then leaned forwards, kiss marking her skin as he lowered himself. He placed his mouth over the small lake of alcohol and sucked it out, tongue teasing the skin there and raiding every drop that was left behind. He swallowed and arched his back, enjoying the drink and the effect it had on him.<br/><br/>As he stood up again, towering over the woman who was positioned at the bar, he began to drink another three large gulps, holding it all in his mouth. He had a dangerous glare in his eyes, like a man who was going to do something very, very stupid. He moved himself closer, left hand guiding his manhood to her gender, rubbing it up and down to make sure it was prepared for the frontal assault. His right hand went for her jaw, spreading it and holding it open a few inches from his own mouth. Movement came next, his hips ramming forwards in one violent push and all hell broke loose.<br/><br/>To the people outside it must have been strange and frightening at the same time. One minute they heard nothing but the sounds of the slums of New Amsterdam, then suddenly a very large groan, moans, men shouting and the heavy creaking of old wood being tested. When Alex buried himself fully in his mate for the evening, he forced the collected liquid from his mouth, letting it pour  out from his mouth and into Wiggy’s, letting her feel the mixture of saliva and alcohol.<br/><br/>While men were cheering, Alex was pounding his hips into the woman underneath him. He slammed into her again, and again, and again. Each time was more violent than the other, almost mentally forcing himself to go even deeper, harder. He was unashamed in his groans of pleasure, letting out a deep animalistic rumble each time he felt her twist, squeeze or shudder underneath him. He held onto her wrists, pinning her down, or simply grabbed her hair. Whatever he did, he did it forceful and violently. This was as far away from love as could be, more like mate taking a bitch in heat, letting her feel everything.<br/>