The camera is facing the toilet space. It is a small narrow room with only a toilet and a frosted glass window at the far end. The door is open as he ushers her into it.

"What are we doing in here?"

"I'm proving a point to you," he pushes her against the wall, "You want to be a slut. You want to let yourself be a harlot, a tramp, a loose woman, and fuck me with no thoughts other than how good my cock feels in your pussy."

"I, what?" she blinks and flushes.

"You can be a slut with me," he kisses her neck as his fingers hook themselves into underwear and drop them to the floor, "Every women should be relaxed enough with their sexuality to be a slut with the man she loves with fearing judgement."

"But that's not nice."

"I'm not using the word as a derogatory term," he smiles, "When I say slut, I mean promiscuous and confident to take what you want sexually. That doesn't make you a bad person."

"But," he smiles, "I like the word too. Slut. It sounds naughty. Be honest, it makes you horny when I call you a slut? It makes you wet knowing that I want you to put your slutty pussy coating my cock and fucking me hard."

"I," she starts to say but doesn't finish her objection.

"We are in the ladies bathroom at the bar," he indicates the space, "Outside this cubicle the bathroom is standing room only. You're going to fuck me hard. You can't wait to get me home to take me, so we've snuck in here. Now you're going to impale yourself on my cock until you burn. I'm going to roll up that 'fuck-me-now' dress and make you sing."

She stares at him with wide eyes as her breath becomes shallow.

"I brought you a drink," he lifts one leg so that the stiletto is up against the opposite wall in the narrow room, "Now I expect you to put out. I want your pussy."

"I'm not a whore," she says but her objection is half-hearted.

"That's right," he runs his fingers over the exposed thigh skin, "I'm not paying to fuck you. I'm expecting you to fuck me. Being a slut isn't an insult if you're a slut to the man you want. You're my slut. You're mine."

He lifts the other leg on the other side of his body so that he is positioned between her legs and her high-heeled shoes are pushed against the painted wall, her knees up and her back against the other wall. If the camera was to change angle it would seem like she was squatting on the vertical surface while holding up the opposite wall.

"Now, what are you?" he whispers as he rolls up the dress to her waist exposing her.

"I'm your slut," she groans as he leans down to kiss her exposed place.

"And what do you want?" he chuckles as he licks her.

"I want you," she moans when he stops and waits for the reply he desires, "I want you to fuck me so hard that I forget everything. I want your cock. I want it so bad. I need it."

"How much do you need it?" he lifts his head as his pants drop to the floor, "How much do you want this?"

"With every fibre," she groans, "I want you. Please fuck me. Please make me your slut. I can't. I need your cock."

"Good girl," he smiles as he edges himself inside her, "now you're mine and I'm going to fuck you in this dirty place."

Her knees separate wide as her feet don't leave the opposite wall. The points on the heels of her shoes push into the plasterboard as she balances like a rock climber in a chimney. He drops his hips so that his erection slides out to the tip.

"See that," he pushes it in and then slips it out to the point again, "That's how well you fit my cock. That's you taking my entire cock and coating it with you cream. See how your pussy craves for it's return? See how wet it is?"

"Please," she moans, "I need it."

"Yes," he returns it to her, "You do. You need it so badly that you'd fuck me anywhere, in a crowded bar, in a toilet stall, in your dorm room, in your car, you just need me."

"Yes," she hisses, "Anywhere, harder."

"You look so hot in that damn dress," he growls, "I'm never letting you out in public in that dress. I would end up fucking you in public."

"Please," she moans, "faster."

"No," he pulls himself out of her, "You're not getting out of this with a short hard fuck. If I'm going to make you into my slut then I'm going to have to take you slowly and have to so wet that your cum runs down your thighs and you forget how to walk."

He inserts himself and pulls out again. He repeats the process varying the depth by which he allows himself to enter before he retracts. Her face creases as she attempts to move her hips to capture him but her position has her locked in place. His body pressed against her in such a way that she can't drop her legs and her feet wedged so that it's not tiring or uncomfortable. All she has to worry about is the sensation of him impaling her.

"I can't take it," she shakes her head, "I need it. I need to cum."

He obliges by thrusting himself hard and to the base into her and then pivoting his hips. His erection rotates within her pushing her over the edge that she's been balancing upon and she cries out her pleasure.

He kisses her jaw line and continues his thrusting, not letting her relax, pushing her towards another orgasm. Then he kisses her neck to the soft flesh at the base as he hammers himself into her. He bites her, sucks the flesh with purpose, and with this she cries out again.

He pulls the dress down exposing her breasts by stretching down the neckline hole. The dress has rolled up to just below this point so there isn't much of it evident. He kisses her breasts as he slows down his movements. She's slick with moisture and his scrotum is swollen.

"I want more," she breathes, "But I'm not sure I can. I need you to cum."

"That's not your decision," he growls, "I'll cum when I've got what I want and that's not now."

"What do you want?" she moans.

"You," he says simply.

Using his hand he lowers her face to his and kisses her open mouth, sucking her lips and pushing his tongue into hers. He kisses her as he rotates his hips with circular motion. He doesn't release her mouth as she climaxes again, he forces the exclamation into his own mouth.

Then he thrust again, yet this time when she moans her pleasure there is no energy left to scream. She looks exhausted and leans heavily against him.

"I can't take it anymore," she whimpers, "I'm so wet. I'm going to explode if you do that to me again."

"Really," he shifts his hips, "That could be fun?"

"No," she shakes her head, "I need you now. I want you to fill me."

"Why?" he asks.

"Because I want you," she whispers, "I want to pleasure you. I want you to want me."

"When did you decide this?" he asks as he watches her relaxed face, "How long have you been in love with me?"

"Forever," she whimpers, "I've been in love with you for my whole life."

"I know," he smiles as he pounds into her with more determination that his previously endeavors.

She is floppy yet his fresh onslaught pushes her to arch her back and cry out as he slams his hips upwards and holds her hips tight as he ejaculates deeply within her, his face determined as his whole body tenses with the effort.

He slowly lowers he to the floor as he withdraws his soft glistening member. He is breathing heavily and their groins are both liberally coated in the evidence of their sex. She stumbles slightly as she tries to gain her balance in her shoes. Her dress is still rolled into a bunch under her breasts.

"Shower first," he looks at their state, "And then it's my turn."

"Your turn to do what?"

"My turn to dress you," he smirks, "My turn to decide on what we're role playing."