As you look around the bar, you can’t believe how many of your old friends showed up for this little faux-reunion. It has been five years since you graduated from college, and this is your first weekend back in Bloomington. When you found out your boyfriend was playing a concert in Indianapolis, you begged him to take the bus south 45 minutes to your old college town.

He agreed with a little personal persuasion.

After finding out you were going to be there, you called all of your friends from school, pleading with them to come down and see you. Most of them you haven’t seen since you walked across the stage and accepted your degree, but it didn’t matter now. You all were acting as if you were still in this tiny but fun town.

You had rented out Nick’s, the most famous bar in Bloomington. It had cost you an arm and a leg, but you wanted your boyfriend to experience what college was like considering he never got to attend.

When you first got to Bloomington, you dragged him all over town and campus. First you went to your dorm that you stayed in freshman year, and then you brought him to all the different buildings you studied in. He was impressed, he always has been impressed that you graduated.

After your tour of campus, you brought him to the apartment complex that you lived in the last three years of college. Then, you went to dinner at Grazie and then you were off to Nick’s.

And that brings you to now. Justin’s eyes are wide in shock at the look of your drunken friends spread out around the bar. Luckily it’s the summer, so you don’t have many students to deal with. But your friends are obnoxious enough.

Smiling, you tug on his hand and drag him over to the table with your old roommates. “Ahhh! Kristen, Jori! I’ve missed you bitches!” you yell, as you hug them both. “Bitches, this is Justin. Justin, these are my bitches.”

Smiling, Justin shakes hands with both girls. You, Justin, Trace and Marty pulled up stools at the rectangle shaped table. “Justin, we are not her bitches. If anyone was the bitch in our old place, it was your girl Shannon. She would cook and clean for us all the time,” Jori spits out.

“WOULD NOT!” you yell, smiling as the waitress comes over and drops off two more pitchers of beer. “Miller Lite ok with you guys?” All three men nod their heads, pouring themselves a cup. “OK, what the hell guys? Why are you acting so quiet! We’re in Btown bitches! Drink up Hoosier style!” you yell.

Obviously you had been drinking at Grazie, a few bottles of wine at the table had left you feeling pretty good before you even got to the bar. That’s when you felt his hand on your thigh, his long fingers rubbing up and down the inside of your left leg. You turned to look at him, and his smile only just spread across his face.

“SHAN!” your head whips around to look at Kristen. “I say it’s Biz time!”

“Holy shit! Go get the bucket, go get the bucket!” You start jumping up and down a little on your stool, you haven’t played Sink the Biz since you graduated. It’s only one of the best drinking games in the world.

“Biz time?” Trace asks.

“Yea, Biz time! We’re gonna play Sink the Biz!” You can hardly control yourself you’re so excited.

“How the hell do you play that?” Marty asks as Kristen comes back with your bucket and glass cup. It is an honor to have your bucket stored at Nick’s. They used to hold everyone’s buckets back in the 50s and 60s, until they ran out of room on the ceiling. Now, you can only have your bucket held there if someone dies and their bucket is willed to you. Jori’s grandfather died right before the start of your sophomore year, so he left it to her in his will because she was his only grandchild left alive that was attending IU.

“OK, here’s the rules,” you say as you smack your hands down on the table. “Listen up, because I’m only going to say them once. We’re going to play Sink the Bismarck, or Sink the Biz as we like to call it. This is the bucket. We’re going to fill it about an inch away from the rim with beer. Then you place this,” you say, holding the glass cup up, “in the middle. This is the Biz. It’s what you’re trying to sink. I’ll go first. You pour beer from your own glass into the Biz without sinking it. The point of the game is to pour just enough beer in to make the person next to you sink the Biz when they have to pour their beer.”

“Yea, and when you sink it, you have to take it out and chug it! Chug, chug, chug!” Jori yells.

“Right, thanks Jor. If you sink the Biz, you have to pick it up from the bottom of the bucket and chug the Biz. If you sink the Biz three times in a row without anyone else sinking it, you have to chug the bucket.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Justin screeches. “After everyone has put their hands in it?” You never knew your boyfriend was such a germaphobe.

“Yes, babe, I’m serious. That’s how the game is played. Now that you have the point of the game, here are the rest of the rules. Your pour has to be a steady stream of beer, once it starts dripping your turn is done. You have to hold your cup higher than where the handle can touch it. If another person flicks the handle up and touches your glass, we sink the Biz and you have to drink it. And NO kicking the table to make the Biz sink on someone else. If you do that and we figure out it was you, we’ll sink the Biz and you drink it.”

“Oh Shan! Should we let the beginners play with the beginners cups?” Kristen asks, pulling a few plastic cups from the bar. You had all been drinking from glass glasses.

Playing with plastic cups is for cheaters and beginners because you can crease the cup and make it easier and more accurate to pour. “Yea, I think we should let them use beginners cups, they don’t know the college drinking ways do they?”

Justin, Trace and Marty all seem to be offended at the comment. “No.” Justin looks a little pissed. “If you all are playing the real way, with real glasses, then so are we.”

Kristen and Jori just shrug their shoulders, looking at you for an answer. “Ok, whatever you guys want to do is fine with me.” Smirking at the other girls, you decide to start it off. “You ready everyone?”

Holding your glass in perfect form, you start pouring your beer into the Biz, stopping just before the Biz would sink. Turning to your left and looking at Justin, you smile. “Your turn, hunny.”

“How the hell am I supposed to pour any beer in that without sinking it?” You and the girls start giggling uncontrollably.

“That’s the whole point, I’m trying to get you to sink it!” Shooting a frustrated look your way, Justin picks up his glass and holds it over the bucket. When he tips his glass to pour, a fountain of beer comes falling from his glass and instantly sinking the glass cup.

“What the fuck! I didn’t mean to pour that much in it! I barely tilted my glass at all!” he yells. “This game isn’t fair!” This time everyone at the table starts laughing.

“Oh, J, just shut the fuck up and drink it,” Trace gets out between his bouts of laughter.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be laughing too hard over there, Trace. Your sitting to the left of Jori, and she is the reigning queen of Biz here at IU.”

Sighing, Justin rolls up the sleeve to his shirt and dips his hand into the bucket. You watch as he takes one of the napkins off the stack between the two of you, wipes it off, before chugging the beer. You watch as a few drops slip out the side of his mouth, trailing down his neck and disappearing into his shirt. “Well, that wasn’t too bad,” he says as he places the glass back in the bucket of beer.

“Yea, just wait until the beer in the bucket starts to get warm,” Kristen jokes.

Justin starts the next round off, barely pouring any beer in, just enough to pass the turn on to Kristen who is sitting on his other side. Kristen does her job, setting Marty up for failure just as you had. Laughing, Marty didn’t even try to pour his beer. He just touched the glass, let it sink, and chugged it.

“What? There was no way that thing was going to stay floating if I tried to pour beer in to it,” he says as everyone laughed at him.

Now it was up to Jori, her pouring a perfect Biz to hand over to Trace. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Trace says after he pours about five drops into the bucket. The Biz hadn’t sank yet.

“One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three-YES!” you yell as you watch the Biz sink to the bottom. “Oh, did I forget to say the rule about how you have five seconds between turns to wait and see if it sinks? And if it does, the person who just went has to drink it?”

You turn to smile at Trace, listening to him grumble and moan about bullshit rules as he chugs the Biz. Laughing, you pour enough that Justin should be able to not sink it on his turn.

“Your turn, Jus,” you smile.

“Thank you babe, I think I might actually pass this round off to Kristen.” He pulls up his cup, and right before he starts to pour Jori flicks the handle of the bucket and hits Jusitn’s glass. You three girls start roaring with laughter at the dumbfounded look on Justin’s face, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

You turn to him, put your lips to his ear, and lick the lobe. “Nice try, babe,” you whisper as your right hand reaches out to the bucket and you sink the glass. “But, you cheated and you have to drink anyways.”

Clearly frustrated, he grabs at the bucket and pulls the Biz out to drink. The game progresses in a mixture of laughs and drinking. Trace and Marty both had to chug the bucket, because as they got drunker they couldn’t start the new round off and kept sinking the Biz. Also, Kristen and Jori were being absolutely horrible to them and filling the cup as far as they could before they passed the turn off.

You girls played this weekly for almost two years of your life. You would spend at least two, if not three days a week in this bar. All the bartenders who worked here then knew you all by name, and at least three of your pictures were on the wall.

Sometime through the night, the manager of Nick’s, who you vaguely remember, came over and asked for a picture of your table. It was obvious he wanted a picture of Justin Timberlake drinking in his bar to put on the wall, and luckily your boyfriend was in a good enough mood to humor him and smile for the camera.

As the night wore on, and everyone slowly became completely intoxicated, Sink the Biz was forgotten and you all just sat there talking and having a good time. That was when you felt his hand rubbing up and down your thigh again, but this time coming closer and closer to your center.

You turn and look his way, questioning him with your eyes. He’s usually not one for public displays of affection, especially when he knows that cameras are in the vicinity. But you humor him, and let him keep playing with your leg.

But when his hand worked his way up to the button of your jeans and he flicked it open, you grabbed onto it and stared him in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing, J?” you ask, as you lean in to whisper at him.

“I’m so fucking horny, girl, you have no idea. All this alcohol and watching you hang out with your old friends, not to mention you look sexy as hell in that top you’re wearing.” With that, he leaned in and started kissing his way up and down your neck, his tongue sliding out and licking you in random places.

Your breathing started getting heavier. You haven’t been able to have sex the past few days because he’s been so tired with interviews, appearances and back-to-back shows. He’s just been coming back to the hotel room or bus and passing out. But now you have a night at the Hilton here in Bloomington, for just you and him.

Groaning as he nibbled a little on your neck, you turn to look at him. “You wanna get out of here, J?”

Nodding, he stands up and pulls out his wallet, tossing enough bills on the table to cover the whole night’s festivities. “Shannon’s a little tired, so I think we’re gonna take off. You guys ok finding your way back to the hotel?”

“Dude, it’s like two blocks down the road. I think we can make it there on our own, Daddy,” Trace jokes.

“Fuck off dude, I was just trying to be nice.”

“Sure Justin, we’ll make sure your boys get home safe and sound,” Kristen smirks, while looking over at Marty.

“OH dear God, Kristen keep your hormones in check,” you screech, looking at the way she was staring at Marty.

“She don’t need to keep nothing in check, girl, I’ll take care of her,” Marty smirks. Wow you have the horniest group of friends ever.

After saying your goodbyes, you and just walk down the stairs to the front door and jump inside the blacked-out SUV. You really don’t understand the need for a ride, the Hilton really is only two blocks down the road, but this is Justin and he can’t exactly just walk down the streets piss ass drunk.

As soon as the door gets shut behind him, he has you pressed up against the opposite door kissing you so hard your seeing stars. He gets like this when he gets drunk, aggressive and desperate.

Moaning as he slides his tongue in your mouth, you grasp the hem of his shirt and start playing with the muscles of his abdomen. You could feel the muscles twitch as you ran your hands over them, loving the sounds that were coming out of his mouth as you did.

“Ugh, J, slow down. We’re going to be at the hotel any second,” you say regretfully, having to push him away from you.

He sighs as he sits back down in his seat, rubbing his hands across his face. Luckily you pushed him back when you did, because within a few seconds of him sitting down the truck came to a stop by the back entrance to the hotel. You both jump out and he grabs your hand, practically dragging you through the back way and to the elevator.

As soon as the elevator dings on your floor, he drags you to the door that is your guys’ room. Groaning and spitting out expletives when he couldn’t get the key card in the slot, you slide your body in front of his and gently take the piece of plastic from his hand. His now empty hands immediately attach themselves to your waist, pulling you against his aching crotch. You barely slip the keycard in right as he does so, watching the light turn green and pushing the handle down.

As soon as you’re both through the door, your back is against the wall and he is pinning you to it. His arms are locked above your head against the wall on either side of you, his lips are working their way up and down your neck, and his hips are grinding mercilessly against yours.

You can feel how hard he is against his jeans, his dick straining to be freed. You groan as he bites at the spot just below your earlobe, then soothes the pain with his tongue as his hand reaches up to play with your breast through the material of your shirt.

“Shit, Shan, you got me so hard, I just want to rip you apart. Are you gonna be ready for me, girl? Are you gonna be nice and wet for daddy?” he asks, pushing his hand down the front of your pants to grip you through your panties.

“Yea, J, I’m so wet for you already. God, I just want that thick cock inside of me already.”

You feel him smile against your neck as he grips the hem of your shirt and raises it upwards. You lift your arms up and let him slide the material over your head and throw it somewhere across the room. Instantly his hands and mouth are on your chest, licking, sucking and grasping at both of your breasts. You moan out loud at the feel of it, he has the most amazing hands.

And don’t even get you started on those lips.

You start to push his shirt up his chest with your hands, and he easily takes control and whips it over his head before rushing back to reconnect his lips with yours. His kisses are sort of sloppy tonight, and you blame that on the grotesque amount of alcohol you both had consumed, but they still felt as good as ever.

You both kept undressing and kissing each other until you were down to just your thong and his boxer briefs. That’s when it started.

He grabbed your hair and started pulling you over to the bed. “I asked you earlier, but this time I’m telling you. You’re going to take me tonight, girl, and you’re going to take every goddamn inch of this cock,” he says as he grinds into your ass.

He pushes you face first on to the bed, so that you are still partially standing on the floor and your ass is up in the air for him. You smirk as you feel his left hand trace you through your panties, as his other hand holds both of yours behind you.

You love it when he gets like this, because he gives it to you nice and rough.

You gasp as he rips your underwear off with one hand. “Justin! Those were my favorite pair!” you screech.

“Shut the fuck up bitch! Did daddy say you could talk?”

You lower your head a little, “No daddy, I’m sorry.”

“What do you think your punishment should be for talking when you’re not asked to? Huh? What should daddy do to his bad little girl?”

You groan as his middle and pointer finger plunge into you, his thumb immediately pushing on your clit.

“Huh, Shannon? What should your punishment be?”

“Don’t…stop,” is all you can manage to moan out.

That’s when he stops all movement. “Is that an answer to my question?”

“No daddy,” you sigh. You love this master/submissive game that you have between the two of you. He doesn’t get like this often, but when he does it is usually the best sex ever.

“Daddy doesn’t like it when you don’t listen to him,” he says, and you feel his fingers leave you. You groan, forcing your hips back and trying to find his hand again. But before long, you feel the head of his penis rubbing against your opening. “Do you like it when I fuck you, girl? Do you like it when daddy fucks you nice and hard?”

You’re so concentrated on getting him inside of you, that the only thing you can do is nod your head. Before you know it, he thrusts into you hard and holds it there. “Mmmm,” he groans, before pulling out and ramming back in just as hard as before.

Quickly he sets a mind-blowing pace, and for a while you feel like he’s ripping you. You’ve never felt him this hard before, and you wonder what made him that way. It couldn’t have been just the beer, could it?

Your pain quickly disappears and you begin rocking your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The suddenly your head is yanked back by him pulling on your hair. “Did I say you could move? No!” he yells as he lets go of your hands to hold your hips in place.

He slaps you hard on the ass, trying to make his point.

“I want you to just take it, lay there and take it like the good little slut that you are.” Again he slaps you on the same spot, you moaning as the pleasure and pain pulls through you one and the same.

“Shit daddy, ugh!”

Normally talk like this would turn you off, but coming from him it just makes you hornier. You hold yourself still and let him ram into you, feeling your release quickly approaching. You need his touch, you need him to rub you.

“Daddy, can you make me cum?”

“That’s what I’m doing girl, I can feel you getting close,” he grunts as he keeps up his pace.

“Yea daddy, but I need you to touch me. I need to feel you touching me, please daddy?” you moan for affect, hoping your plan works.

And it does.

He slides his hand around you until it’s buried between your folds. As soon as he starts rubbing, you feel your release. It starts in the bottom of your toes and rips its way through your body, settling in your groin. You can’t help the moans and expletives that fly through your mouth as you ride the waves of pleasure he’s sending through you.

With a few more quick, hard thrusts, he pushes himself all the way in and you feel him explode inside of you, his dick quaking with each spurt. He groans as he lays himself down on top of your back, the both of you completely spent.

After a few minutes of catching your breaths, he slowly picks himself up off you and maneuvers you both until you’re lying under the sheets.

You cozy up against his side, wrapping your leg around his waist when you feel it.

He’s still hard.

“Jus?” you ask, as you turn your head to look at him. “How can you still be hard after that?”

“What can I say baby, I got whiskey dick tonight.”

You smirk as you lift yourself up to straddle him, ready to go for round two.