Dominance Evolution System: Sweat, Sex, and Streetball-Chapter 204: The Wrong Kind of Open

Nash’s fingers dug firmly into the guy’s wrist, twisting just enough to make him wince, his fat arm shaking.

"Back off," Nash said calmly.

The fat man yanked his hand free, rubbing his wrist.

"The hell? Who are you, her dad? I was just talking. She didn’t say no! Back off yourself, asshole."

Nash then stood slowly, his 193 cm frame unfolding, large shoulders broad and athletic build making the fat guy look small.

The fat man opened his mouth again, but shut it quick, eyes widening as Nash towered over him.

Nash spoke calm, not angry or threatening, like explaining to a kid throwing a tantrum.

"Talking?" Nash said. "Talking isn’t fun when you’re all alone. You’re disturbing everyone’s fun, y’know that? You kill everyone’s fun, you kill the business. Walk away. Enjoy the night, find someone who actually want to talk with you... But somewhere else."

The fat man’s eyes darted around, some people in the crowd were glancing over, moans pausing as people watched the standoff.

He gulped, his red face paling a bit, then nodded quickly, pretending to understand.

"Yeah... yeah, mistake. I didn’t see she was accompanied. So... ok, we have a mutual agreement, right? Sorry."

He backed off, hands up, turning to leave. As he walked away, he groaned low.

"Fucking giants... how do some people get so big? Asshole..."

Nash sat down slow, crossing his arms over his chest, a smirk on his lips as he looked at Dahlia.

She crossed her arms too, mirroring him, then smiled softly, her blue eyes meeting his. "Thanks. You handled that well. No scene, no loss, just... made him go away."

Nash’s smirk grew.

"Anytime. Though that fat guy called me your dad. You could call me daddy instead, if you want."

The whiskey might have hit Dahlia too strong, because hearing that, instead of being offended, like she would normally, she gave him a strange smirk, eyes half-lidded.

She rubbed her fingers slow on his arm, tracing the muscle.

"Oh? Really, daddy? You into that kind of thing?"

Her hand squeezed his bicep lightly.

"Got every fetish, huh? Why do you know how to talk to women like this? You’re a pimp or something?"

Nash blinked, surprised. What was that? This wasn’t the way Dahlia would usually react.

She always stayed composed, notebook, words careful, and occasionally... "stress" reliever.

Now she leaned closer, tits heaving against him, deliberately pressing her chest on him.

"Uh... Dahlia, you’re alright?" Nash asked, cautious.

She chuckled, leaning her head against his chest, rubbing his biceps.

"Don’t give me the sweet treatment now," she murmured. "I know you want to ravish me again. Like last time."

Nash was more and more confused... yeah, it was partly what he was wishing for, where he wanted the situation to go, but he didn’t like seeing her act in a way totally different than what he knew.

"Easy. You okay?"

She laughed softly, head lolling a bit on his shoulder.

"Fine. Just... annoyed you’re so perfect." Her fingers rubbed his arm harder, eyes on his lips. "Makes me want... things."

Ok, now that was definitely not her. She had completely changed in an instant, what drove her so far from herself? Was that because she was afraid?

But the truth wasn’t that far.

He glanced at her side, then realized.

The whiskey.

Her glass was empty, and she’d downed it so fast. The only explanation was that she was drunk.

Her guard was completely gone, words loose, body pressing like she wanted him to take her right there.

But Nash wasn’t happy about this.

He was contraried.

If she was drunk, there was no way he’d take advantage of a drunk woman, he wasn’t that much of a degenerate.

Plus, if she was drunk, then it fucked completely his plan. He needed her perfectly sentient... for her report to Victoria, especially with what he planned to do tonight.

This ruined everything.

He was in his own world of complications, but nearby, a couple was also in their own world.

They got wilder, the guy grabbing the girl’s hips, flipping her against their booth wall, her legs spreading wide as he thrust his cock into her cunt from behind.

Her ass cheeks rippled with each hard pound, moans turning to screams as her cunt clenched visibly, tits bouncing wildly against the wall.

She reached back, grabbing his ass, pulling him deeper.

"Yes... make me cum!"

The guy groaned, thrusting faster, his balls slapping her clit with each slam.

Dahlia watched, breath faster, her eyelids heavy, body leaning into Nash more.

She gave him a gaze as to ask "when?" But he couldn’t answer to that now.

Then, the guy pulled out, cumming ropes across her ass, but her squirt gushed out, splashing across the table, hitting Dahlia’s arm and thigh.

Dahlia gasped, disgusted, face twisting, angry as the fluid dripped down her arm, soaking her dress.

"Ugh... For fucking... Fucking degenerates!"

Nash chuckled, his hand squeezing her thigh firmly to steady her.

"Nice shot. You okay?"

She nodded sharply, still staring at the mess on her arm, face twisted in disgust. The hot fluid dripped slowly down her skin, sticky and thick, the smell pungent and sour, hitting her nose strongly.

"Fine. Just... gross."

Her body stayed pressed against him, but she pulled back a bit, the whiskey mixing her anger with a foggy heat, making her annoyance grow. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

He was too calm, too perfect, sitting there as if nothing happened.

Dahlia reached out with her hand first, fingers hovering over the splash on her arm, but hesitated, the disgust twisting her stomach as the cum gleamed under the neon lights, clinging to her skin like glue.

"Ugh... no way," she muttered, shuddering hard, her thighs clenching tight as revulsion crawled up her spine.

She grabbed a napkin instead, wiping quickly and roughly, the paper soaking up the fluid but leaving a sticky residue that made her skin crawl.

"These people... no manners at all."

Her voice sharp now, the whiskey fueling her anger, her eyes narrowed on the couple as she shook her arm hard, trying to fling off the last drops.

The guy from the couple glanced over, still panting, cock softening as he zipped up, smirking lazily.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Got carried away."

The girl laughed breathlessly, wiping cum from her ass with her hand, smearing it on her thigh without care.

Dahlia’s face twisted more, napkin crumbling in her fist.

"Carried away? You splashed me like animals."

She stood up suddenly, body tense, dress sticking wet to her thigh where the squirt had hit. The fabric clung cold and gross, making her shudder again.

"I need to wash this off. Now."

Nash stood with her, hand on her lower back, fingers pressing firm to guide her.

"Okay. Bathrooms this way."

He led her through the crowd, bodies bumping them, tits brushing his arm as a girl ground on a guy’s lap nearby, ass jiggling with each bounce.

The air felt thicker, sweat and cum smells stronger as they moved deeper.

They reached the bathrooms, doors wide open, no privacy, and found the doors of a deeper Hell.

Inside, people were fucking everywhere. A girl knelt on the tile floor, sucking a cock deep, her throat bulging with each thrust, as the guy groaned, hands in her hair pulling hard.

Next stall, a man had a woman bent over the sink, thrusting into her ass from behind —slap-slap-slap— her tits bouncing against the mirror, nipples hard and smearing the glass with sweat. She moaned loudly.

"Deeper... fill my ass!"

Cum from an earlier load leaked down her thighs onto the floor. Another couple in the corner, the girl riding reverse on the toilet, ass cheeks rippling with each drop, cock disappearing into her cunt with wet schlicks, her squirt leaking down his balls.

Dahlia stopped at the door, face twisting in annoyance, body tensing hard.

"Even here? These... degenerates."

She backed up a step, her dress still sticky, the revulsion making her thighs clench tight, skin crawling from the mess.

The whiskey made it worse, her head fogging a bit, the smells and sounds hitting sharper, her stomach churning.

"This is ridiculous. I can’t wash like this."

Nash thought a little, his hand still on her lower back, fingers feeling the heat through her dress.

The plan needed her to be aware, but this annoyance was a chance to go to another location, his main focus.

"Maybe... somewhere else," he said casually, voice low. "Without people. Somewhere like.... Oh, didn’t Victoria’s office has a private bathroom? We can use that."

Dahlia glared at him, and for a moment, he thought he might have committed a terrible mistake.

Was that too early? He should have waited for her to do the proposition instead.

But strangely, she hesitated, eyes narrowing.

The whiskey softened her resistance a touch, her body leaning into his hand subtle.

"Victoria’s office? You sure?"

Nash blinked, then nodded quickly. She wasn’t rejecting the idea, he might still have a chance.

He guided her away from the bathrooms, his fingers pressing firmer on her lower back.

"Yeah. She won’t mind. Come on."

He led her through a side door, up a quieter stairwell, the moans fading below as they climbed.

Dahlia followed, her heels clicking slow, body tense but following his lead.

They reached the office door, unlocked, like Victoria left it for business, or maybe a trap.

Nash pushed it open, no one inside, the desk massive in the center, shelves lined with bottles and files. The private bathroom was off to the side, door ajar.

"Go ahead," Nash said, stepping back but not leaving, his eyes on her as she walked in.

Dahlia paused at the door, glancing back at him, the whiskey making her eyelids heavy, her cheeks still pink.

It was a matter to know if she was drunk enough to not realize where they were, or if she was too drunk to want something more from him.

But the revulsion from the splash was stronger. She stepped into the bathroom, door closing behind her with a click.

Nash waited outside, mind racing, the office was his chance now.