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She comes across him one night, driving home from work. She’s had the week from hell, projects going wrong, deadlines being missed, and the stress is overwhelming. All of her colleagues keep saying “you need to get laid, Coops!”, but she doesn’t really connect being stressed out to needing sex.
Jughead’s at his usual post, sitting outside the Whyte Wyrm with the rest of the prostitutes, smoking a cigarette to get the taste of cum out of his mouth.
She steps out of her car, the heels crunching the gravel below, and her eyes meet his for a second before passing the group and walking inside.
As the door swings shut behind her, he quirks an eyebrow, turning to the others and asking, “What’s a girl like that doing here?”
They throw around ideas for a few minutes, before they come to the consensus that she had a fight with her husband and is out on the hunt for some dirty whiskey and a side of revenge sex.
Jughead slowly stands, throwing his cigarette to the ground. “I can take one for the team,” he huffs.
He enters the Whyte Wyrm, eyes scanning over the leather-clad group looking for the blonde thing. He spots her across the room at the bar, perched on a stool. She’s definitely out of place here.
He saunters over to the bar, and takes his place on a stool a couple of spots down from her. The bartender knows better than to ask him if he wants anything, and levels an obvious look at the blonde before winking at him.
“What’s a lady like you doing in a place like this, hmmm?” Jughead asks, noticing that she’s drinking a glass of something that looks like white wine. That shelves the dirty whiskey idea...but the “revenge sex” idea is wide open.
Betty smirks as the rim of the glass meets her cherry red lips, taking a slow sip of her wine. “You say that as if you know me.”
Jughead chuckles, his eyes glancing at her fingers around the glass, noting there’s no ring visible on her left hand, “Okay, fair point. So what brings you here this evening? Boyfriend troubles?” A corner of his mouth turns up into a smirk. “Girlfriend troubles?”
"Maybe I just really needed a drink," she teases.
Jughead nods, “Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place.”
Betty takes another sip from the glass. “Feels a bit wrong though.”
"Why do you say that?" He asks, standing to move down the bar and take the seat next to her.
Betty can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine as he takes a spot next to her. Her eyes move to his hands, gripping the bar in front, the veins bulging with the pressure. Swallowing hard, she downs the rest of her wine before signaling for another.
“Are you in a hurry?” Jughead’s smirk widens into a full-blown cocky smileThe corner of Jughead’s mouth quirks up. “You drank that wine like it was a shot of vodka.”
She turns to look directly at the stranger next to her; the stranger that has her throwing all Cooper caution to the wind., “I’ve had a rough week, is all.”
Flicking her eyes to his lips then back up to his ocean blue eyes, she winks before turning back to the bar to find a new glass of wine waiting for her.
His eyebrows raise at her confidence. This blonde is more bold than he ever would have imagined.
“If you’re looking for something rough that isn’t the week, just let me know,” he tells her, shooting her a playful wink.
She’s thankful for the coat she’s wearing. The blatant goosebumps rising to the surface of her skin are hidden under its length, and so are her thighs squeezing together as the warmth between her legs pools ever so slightly.
“Is that an offer?” She whispers into her glass.
“Only if you want it to be,” Jughead answers easily. “I never say no when a beautiful woman asks.”
Taking a lengthy swig of wine, she gently places the glass back on the bar and reaches for her purse. “Just the tab, please,” she tells the bartender.
Jughead smiles and stands. “Lead the way,” he says, offering her his hand. She looks like she’ll pay well if that expensive coat says anything.
For a brief moment, the thought ‘what in the living fuck am I doing?’ plays through her mind. The ache between her legs overrules her head, however, and her eyes scan the bar, before falling on the sign indicating where the bathrooms are located.
“Your place or mine?” Betty breathes huskily, flicking her eyes between the male and female bathroom signs. She takes a small step closer to him, a single finger dragging down the zipper of his well-worn leather jacket.
He sees the movement of her eyes and catches on quickly. “We can start right here,” he says. It’s not the first time he’s fucked in the dirty bathroom stalls, though she’ll probably be the prettiest. He’ll almost feel bad asking her for money later.
“No one actually uses the women’s bathrooms, anyway,” he shrugs. Without needing any more convincing, Betty grabs his hand and pulls him into ladies bathroom. Noticing that it is, in fact, overly clean for a biker bar bathroom, she beelines for the furthest stall and pulls him in.
He wasn’t expecting her to be quite so eager so quickly, and he’s surprised when she slams her body into his against the locked door. Betty presses a long leg between his parted thighs and looks at him hungrily. For a second she pauses, unsure how she wants to proceed in this situation. Jughead sees her hesitation and decides he’s going to have to make her beg for exactly what she needs.
He makes quick work of the buttons on her coat, while she fumbles with his belt buckle. Betty shrugs the coat off her shoulders, and although still dressed, she feels naked under his eyes.
“Are you just going to stare at me, or do something?” She teases.
“Oh, blondie,” he murmurs, “you have no fucking idea what I want to do you.”
He roughly grabs the thigh that’s pressed between his legs and hoists it around his hip. His hand trails up her pencil skirt, pleased to find thin lace as the only thing separating him from her heat. He leans forward to lick a slow stripe up the side of her neck as yanks her panties to the side.
“I think if you knew, you wouldn’t be able to handle it darling.”
She moves her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck. “You underestimate what I can handle, sweetheart ,” she mewls as he continues his assault of open mouthed kisses on her neck. She lets out a shriek as she hears the noise of lace ripping, suddenly pulling back. “Did you just rip my panties?”
“Something tells me you’ll be able to budget for some new ones,” he grunts out while biting across her cleavage.
“There you go assuming again,” Betty huffs, annoyed but excited nonetheless. In retaliation she moves a hand to the front of his jeans and cups harshly. Jughead growls lowly and grabs her hand in his. He pulls it up to his mouth, and her fingers instinctively uncurl as he lowers his head to take her pointer and middle finger into his mouth. Betty moans as he bites down gently, before giving a light suck. Just as she is about to open her mouth to speak, Jughead thrusts her hand between her own legs so her fingers make contact with her slit.
“The only assumption I’m making is how wet this is going to be for me.” He swiftly lets go, replacing her fingers with his own and curling them inside.
He moans at the slickness already dripping from her. He can’t believe that such a gorgeous woman, too good to be in this bar with the likes of him, is quaking from his touch.
“At least you’ve assumed one thing correctly,” she pants, as he thrusts his fingers in and out of her sex. He groans at the way her mouth falls open, and his cock twitches at the sounds falling from her cherry red lips, because of him. He’s made women (and men) moan before, but she’s different.
He pulls his fingers out of her, and pushes them into her open mouth. Her eyes fly open and he hums his approval as she tastes herself. He leans closer, his breath hot on her ear. “I wanna taste you for myself.”
He hikes her skirt up to her hips before trailing his fingertips back along the edges of her inner thigh. Betty releases something between a “yes” and a gasp at his touch, and he sinks to his knees.
“Foot up, princess,” he directs. Betty barely registers the command, as deep as she is in a cloud of lust and anticipation. He brings one of his hands down her long leg, almost tenderly. Grabbing her black heel in his hand, he hoists it to his shoulder.
Betty slumps down a fraction and her heel digs into the leather of his jacket as he bends his head forward and takes a rough stroke with his flattened tongue.
Her head falls back against the cubicle wall with a loud thud, and her hand flies to her mouth to suppress the scream that wants to escape. His flattened tongue slides up and down her slit, her heel digging harder into his worn leather.
He groans against her as he feels her stiletto through his layers. As his groan reverberates through her pussy, her hand falls from her mouth and tangles in his hair. Pulling it hard, he lets out a muffled and strangled noise, lapping at her juices.
“
Fuccccck, Jesus!
” she pants, her toes curling in her shoes and legs quivering beneath her.
Jughead’s hand grips the back of her thigh, lifting her leg up higher as he shoves his tongue into her dripping, trembling pussy. She whines that she’s close, so fucking close as he watches her show all the telltale signs of an impending orgasm - the hitched breathing, the falling obscenities and most of all, the juices... I wonder if she’s a squirter? he thinks to himself, as her thighs squeeze around his ears. His cock is painful in his jeans, twitching with the need to feel her walls.
He brings his other hand to her clit and presses hard and quick, an alternating rhythm with his tongue that is pushing and pulling at a pace he didn’t even know he was capable of. Betty’s vision goes white and her whole body jolts violently as she screams, “Daddy! Oh fuck!”
Jughead just holds her tighter, not letting up. The hand that had been holding her thigh snakes up to her ass and he delivers as strong a smack as he can in the confined space before kneading her cheek with his fingers as he pulls his tongue out and latches on to her clit, pulling slightly. Her juices are dripping down his chin and he can’t seem to stop. He has never needed a client to come before, not like this, not this badly. He forgets the money, forgets his corner, forgets his life as he brings her to a powerful orgasm.
Betty can’t think straight. Betty can’t see straight. She’s drunk, but not on alcohol. Her vision is plagued with spots and stars, her chest is heaving and she can her juices running down her legs; but not for long as she feels his tongue lapping them up. She hears and feels him, murmuring “so fucking sweet and delicious,” against her milky white skin.
He slowly stands, and his eyes meet hers. She looks delirious, “I’m sorry,” she half whimpers. Jughead doesn’t kiss clients. He has a rule, a strict “no kissing” rule, but all those rules went out the window the second she finished her first orgasm and he started working to bring her to her second. His hands cup her jaw, and everything is a haze as soon as his lips crash to hers.
He runs his wet fingers through her hair, as his tongue searches her mouth. She snakes her hand under his jacket and pulls him flush against her, letting out an inaudible groan as he rubs his hard, throbbing cock against her sensitive flesh. Betty pulls away and moves her lips to his ear.
“Fuck me,” she whispers.
“Turn around,” he commands.
Still panting and almost boneless, she manages to turn in her high heels. For a moment she worries she won’t be able to hold herself up, but just as the thought is forming she feels his hard chest press her against the cool metal door. His even harder cock has been released from his tight jeans, and is rubbing slowly between the cleft of her ass. It’s a position he has been in countless times before, but for some reason, this time he knows he won’t just be a detached observer, stuck on autopilot. He wants her to feel every inch of him. He’s desperate to feel her come around his cock. He needs to fuck her so hard and thoroughly that she will remember him tomorrow. And possibly forever.
He feels her impatiently arch her back and press her ass against him and he refocuses.
“You sure you’re ready Blondie?” He whispers as he presses his lips into her neck.
Unable to meet his eyes at that angle, Betty turns her head to the side, ghosting her lips against his hot skin. “I’m ready for you to fuck me until you break me apart.”
“Your wish is my command, Blondie,” he whispers against the beads of sweat on the back of her neck. He rubs his cock against her ass one more time, before crouching a little to line his aching cock up to her waiting cunt. He groans as he feels how wet she still is. He would usually just thrust, as hard he can, but something stirs him.
He slowly rubs his head up her slit, and she purrs out a “please, daddy ,” against the metal door, and he’s done for. He thrusts into her, but his movements are slowed when he suddenly has to push, hard. His body stills when he hears her cry out - not a pleasurable cry - and her cheeks wet.
It all clicks in his head and suddenly all of the air leaves his lungs in a rush. He tilts his crotch away from her body and turns her around gently.
“Miss...” he starts, unsure of how to continue. Betty’s cheeks are wet and the mascara on her bottom lashes has clumped together. She looks pained, but not just from his most recent action. Her cheeks redden and she bites her lip.
She pushes down her skirt, and scrambles for her coat, “I should go, sorry,” she murmurs, feeling completely and totally overwhelmed and embarrassed. As she’s about to unlock the latch, she feels his hand, softly on her arm.
“Why?” He asks simply, the confusion evident on his face.
She shakes him off. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Miss,” he interjects, “that was some of the most incredible sex I’ve had, even for a few seconds.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?” she asks, genuinely shocked.
He groans, and he watches her fingers twist her blouse before sighing and telling her the truth., “This is so unprofessional, but... you and your body...” his eyes dart down to still very erect cock.
“I’m Betty,” she offers, biting her lip, her eyes moving up from his cock, over his torso and up to meet his eyes.
“Jughead,” he responds, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Betty, as you may be able to see,” he jokes as he reaches his hand down to touch himself.
Betty giggles, despite the awkwardness of her situation. She was amazed that someone, so experienced and well...sexy was affected by her. He wasn’t even cruel or angry when he realized she was, well, the exact opposite of experienced.
She couldn’t understand why still she desired him so much, the feeling overwhelming her embarrassment. All too quickly though, reality sets back in and she reaches behind her to unlock the door.
“Um again...uh Jughead. I’m really sorry. I’ll still pay what I owe, for before. I.....I don’t do this...” Betty stumbles over her words. Despite the fact that she had unlatched the door, she makes no move to exit the stall. Her eyes keep dropping down to his hard cock.
His hand reaches out once more and covers hers. His thumb strokes down her fingers, and he looks up to meet her eyes before saying quietly, “We can still continue...if that’s what you want. I don’t have to - ” he lets the end of the sentence hang between them.
Her mind is a flurry of thoughts. She doesn’t know this man, but technically he did just take her virginity, in a toilet cubicle, in a biker bar. On a Friday night. Her hand moves to stroke his cock, and her thighs clench together. She’s in pain, her pussy is hurting, but she wants him , all of him... all of this Jughead person, who she inexplicably feels some kind of connection with, even if it’s just sexual.
“My house is ten minutes away,” she answers. “I can leave now, and you can follow me. If you have a phone, I can text you the address,” she tells him, her hand wrapping around his cock, squeezing and moving, ever so slightly. “If you want.”
She purses her lips as she waits for his answer, closing the gap ever so slightly, still moving her hand up and down his length. As their noses touch, she whispers, ever so softly, “I need you to finish what you started.”
She runs the pad of her thumb over the head of his cock. “If you’re okay with that, Juggie ...”
Jughead feels her warm breath across his face as she strokes him. God, this didn't feel like just another handjob. The movement of her hands was unsure, but her intention was clear. She wanted this, and fuck, he wanted her too.
He leans back slightly and digs his phone out of his jacket pocket. Handing it to Betty, he lowers his head to kiss her neck, their fingers interlocking as she takes the phone from him. "Okay doesn't begin to cover it, Betts."
Betty smiles as she opens the notes app in his phone and adds her address with her other hand. Her lazy stroking of his cock doesn't stop and Jughead leans his forehead against hers as he tries not to lose it from her touch. "You can park anywhere on the street since it's the weekend.," she informs him.
He smiles at that, at her thoughtfulness in this situation. "I'll see you in ten, then," he teases.
As she continues to stroke his length, he mutters, “If you do keep doing that though....”
Betty jerks her hand away. “I should go,” she responds, fumbling with the buttons of her coat as she scans the floor for her panties.
“You can have them later,” he tells her, smirking.
Betty bites her lip and nods. “See you in ten, Juggie, and not a minute later,” she commands.