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Freebie - 2
by Lord John Thomas (lord_john_thomas@hotmail.com)

***

The story of my continuing downfall, and all to protect 
an ungrateful husband. (MMF, FF-bi, wife-reluc, prost)

***

All of my stories include descriptions of sex scenes 
that could cause offence to some people. Please do not 
read this story if you are offended by perverse sexual 
material, or if you are under the legal age of consent 
for your own country. These stories are pure fiction 
and are not based on anyone living or deceased.

***

PART 2

I left you at the end of part one, where I'd just left 
the hotel after having a sex session with two men. One 
was the boss of my husband Gerry, a Mr. Spencer 
(Graham), and the other, a business friend of his, a Mr 
Harris (Peter), who handled the advertising for a sexy 
lingerie firm. Oh, and my name is Mary. And because of 
Gerry's stupidity at work, his boss now had evidence 
that could result in him going to gaol. So to prevent 
his boss taking the evidence to the police, Gerry had 
begged me to go with these men, knowing they'd want me 
to have sex with them. But now instead of taking me 
straight home, we were on our way to some kind of club.

So we left the hotel, and climbed into the back of the 
big limo. As we were being driven to the club, Graham 
began to explain what kind of club it was.

"I'm sure you'll like this place."

"Why? What kind of club is it?"

"You could say it's a kind of cross between a lap 
dancing club and a karaoke."

"You what? How on earth can those two go together?"

"Well you see the kind of man who frequents this club 
must obviously like seeing women dancing provocatively, 
and he also has to be wealthy enough to back this up. 
But the club doesn't have any paid dancers or 
strippers. So the ladies who come to the club are girls 
who like to show off their assets, so to speak; and as 
the men always show their appreciation with cash, they 
also leave a little richer than when they arrive."

I guess my face showed the apprehension I felt knowing 
this was obviously the fate they expected me to endure. 
He continued, "Don't look so worried. I'm sure you 
won't have any problems paying for your enrolment."

"Enrolment? I don't understand."

"Well; men join by paying for membership at a cost of 
one hundred pounds. But ladies can enter free, and 
providing their first performance generates in excess 
of the one hundred pounds membership fee; that not only 
entitles them to membership, they also get to keep 
fifty-percent of what ever they've made. But it also 
entitles them to free admission in the future, where 
they can keep fifty-percent of what ever they pull when 
they're on stage."

If this was his way of reassuring me it wasn't working, 
it was beginning to sound more and more scary with 
every word. Then I guess Peter picked up on my anxiety, 
and he said, "Don't let him worry you my dear. All 
you'll need to do is model a few of my costumes, and 
they'll be eating out of your hand."

"Eating from her snatch you mean."

This was Graham's sneering retort.

I looked at Peter, "Do you mean I'll be expected to get 
up on stage, and then parade around in those skimpy 
panties you make?"

"Yes. But that won't be a problem. Will it?"

"I-I don't think I'll have the nerve to pose in front 
of a room full of strangers."

"Don't you kid yourself. The way you lapped up the 
attention you got in the hotel, I have no doubt in your 
ability. As soon as you see the reaction your posing 
causes, I think you'll be displaying not only my 
lingerie to its best advantage, but also offering the 
punters a view of your intimate treasures."

I blushed, and even though I knew he was trying to pay 
me a compliment, it still didn't make me feel any 
easier. Then without warning, the car came to a halt, 
and the driver's voice came through the speakers, 
"Bitches."

Graham opened his door and even before I climbed out, I 
could see the small neon sign 'Bitches'. We climbed 
from the car, and I could then see we were in a dimly 
lit back street. The only evidence to indicate the 
presence of anything as sophisticated as a club was 
that illuminated sign. I followed Graham as he 
descended down the dark stairway. He'd only turned into 
the staircase, and taken one step, when the staircase 
lit-up. It was illuminated by rows of tiny spotlights 
sunk into the walls inches from step height, and even 
some lights in the actual steps shining directly 
upwards.

So as I followed Graham, with Peter behind me, we 
descended down below ground level. As we neared the 
bottom few steps, the door at the bottom of the 
staircase opened, and a big muscle-bound doorman 
appeared. From his vantage point, and with the 
direction of the light beams, he would obviously be 
getting a clear view up into my crotch area. And again 
I was conscious of the skimpiness of the thong I was 
wearing. Graham was instantly recognised by the 
doorman, "Good evening Mr Spencer. Is the young lady a 
member?"

"No Terry, I'm afraid she's not."

"So will she be paying for membership or performing?"

Graham looked across to me, "Do you have a hundred quid 
(£100) on you?"

It was obvious I didn't, but I shook my head all the 
same.

"Well Terry, it looks like the little lady will be 
taking to the stage."

Peter again seeing my look of fear tried to offer words 
of comfort, "Don't worry Mary. You'll see. Once you're 
inside and you get into the swing of things, it'll be 
easy."

We walked in and were seated at a table alongside the 
stage. To be more accurate, the stage was actually a 
large circle, maybe twenty feet across. And all the 
tables were positioned around its edge. There was a 
narrow open walkway, similar to a catwalk, which led 
from the stage to a pair of heavy curtains; behind 
which I supposed were the dressing rooms for stage 
performers. The stage and catwalk were only around 
eighteen inches high, and the stage had little sets of 
stairs leading up to it from in between each pair of 
tables. It was well lit with lights from all around its 
edge, and even before we'd arrived at our table I could 
see the girl who was currently giving her performance. 

Well far from Peter's words of comfort, now I was 
inside the club and could see what was happening on 
stage, I was even more worried. The girl was on her 
back in the middle of the stage area on a big cushion, 
which must have had some kind of revolving support 
under it. Her legs were high in the air, and a big 
black man was fucking her in a very leisurely and 
cavalier manner. As he fucked, his legs would give the 
occasional push, turning them both, so that all the 
audience got an unrestricted view. He was obviously 
used to this kind of performance, and liked the 
attention of his audience.

As we all sat around the table, a waiter came to take 
the drinks order, but Peter again advised me to steer 
clear of alcohol. By the time my coke arrived, the big 
black man was asking the audience where they wanted him 
to shoot his cum. He'd point to her face and men would 
throw money onto the stage. Then he'd point to her 
breasts, and again a shower of money would fall on the 
stage like confetti. He indicated various parts of the 
girl's body, obviously including her pussy. But the one 
which brought the largest shower of money was when he 
lifted her legs high, and pointed his cock at her 
bottom. 

This was obviously going to be the winning option, and 
after spitting out a mouthful of disgusting spittle 
onto his fingers, he proceeded to work it into her 
bottom. He then took great delight in forcing his shaft 
deep up inside her, and in only a few moments, his 
movements indicated he was delivering his cum. This was 
completed to a rousing accompaniment of applause and 
another shower of money.

Meanwhile, although subconsciously this sexual display 
was sowing the seeds for an arousal, consciously, I 
became all the more nervous; knowing my turn on stage 
was getting all the closer. As the couple on stage took 
their bows, and gathered up the money they'd attracted, 
the stage lights dropped to a subdued glow, and a 
spotlight picked-up a man appearing from the curtains, 
and making his way out to the stage.

"Well let's have a big round of applause for a 
wonderful display there by our little Helen, and ably 
assisted by the big boy Dirk."

Some of the audience responded, but most of the 
audience took their opportunity to resume normal 
conversation and the like. (Visiting the toilets, 
ordering drinks etc.) During the time it took for the 
stage to be cleared of the large cushion, contraption 
under it and the evidence of sticky liquids, the man on 
stage (who was obviously a comedian/announcer), went 
into a stream of jokes, which almost nobody appeared to 
be listening to. Peter caught my attention, and pointed 
up into the ceiling above the centre of the stage.

"Can you see that curtain?"

Hanging high in the air was a light weight curtain, 
made in a circular fashion.

"Yes. What is that for?"

"Once the stage is cleared, they'll bring out a rack 
with costumes on it. And the curtain will give you an 
enclosure to get changed in. Each hanger will be 
numbered, so just put on each costume in order. Once 
you come out on stage, it's up to you to display the 
costume to get the best reaction from the men 
watching."

"Do I have to dance or what?"

"It's up to you, what ever you feel comfortable with. 
If you want to dance and there is any particular music 
you want?"

"No, I don't think I could. I'm not even sure I'll find 
the courage to get up on the stage, let alone come out 
wearing a skimpy costume."

"You will. You forget you took my little magic tablet. 
By now, you'll find once you get the slightest sign of 
arousal, you'll let go without even knowing you're 
doing it."

"If you say so. But I don't feel very aroused right 
now."

As he had said, while the lights were still dimmed, the 
stage hands had wheeled out a rack, but in the dim 
lighting, it was difficult to distinguish what clothes 
were on it. Then as they left the stage the circular 
curtain descended from the ceiling, and enclosed an 
area around the rack, about five feet across. It was at 
this point the announcer announced, "Gentlemen. Can I 
have your attention? The act is nothing new; in fact I 
think I can go as far as to say it's an old favourite 
here at Bitches. But the girl modelling for us tonight 
is a fresh face, and I'm assured a fresh little pussy 
to match. So lets all give an encouraging welcome to 
Mary; who is about to present the latest creations from 
the Erotic Nights collection."

Peter and Graham both gave me the nod, and Graham said, 
"Ok girl, its time for you to show them what you can 
do."

I slowly rose to my feet, and as soon as I was 
standing, the spotlight moved from the announcer who 
was exiting the stage, and picked me out. With that, 
suddenly every eye in the room was focused my way. As I 
began my slow climb up the three small steps up to the 
stage, it was as if someone else had taken over my 
senses. I could feel myself swaying my hips in an 
exaggerated manner. And instead of just making my way 
directly to the curtains, I was walking the perimeter 
of the stage. But not just walking aimlessly, as I 
passed each table I'd turn and stoop. Not spreading my 
legs wantonly, or crudely displaying my all; no, just 
teasing, and wetting the appetites of the open mouthed 
onlookers.

Where this performance came from I can't imagine, but 
it was having an effect, even before I started to model 
the skimpy costumes. Every flash and enticement would 
bring forth a shower of notes; and even though I didn't 
stop to pick them up, I could see they were mostly £20 
notes! By the time I'd entered the curtain enclosure, 
the perimeter of the stage was strewn with money. As I 
disappeared into my enclosure, the audience began to 
chant, and I knew I couldn't waste any time getting 
changed into the first costume. But something else was 
also obvious now, the curtains were made of an almost 
see-through material, so although the audiences view 
might have been obscured slightly, I certainly hadn't 
got total privacy. But for some reason this didn't faze 
me at all, and I stripped naked; then put on the first 
of the costumes.

I was soon out on stage, and posing from table to 
table, and if the money that was landing on the stage 
was any indication, then the audience liked what they 
saw. I won't go into detail about each and every 
costume, as even in my mind they all merged from one to 
the next. But I started with what you might call a 
simple one piece swimming costume, and progressed via 
ten different ones until the last one was the smallest 
of thongs imaginable. But even this last one which 
didn't even have a top to cover my breasts, and in 
truth, the bottom half didn't cover my pussy 
completely; I displayed with a brashness I still can't 
explain. As I took what I thought were my final bows 
walking around the edge of the stage, I heard the 
announcer's voice over the speaker system.

"Right gentlemen. Once you've finished showing your 
appreciation for the new girl Mary, I'm thinking maybe 
there are a few of you virile young bucks out there who 
would like to come on stage and offer your services to 
help our newcomer to cash in on what looks like being a 
profitable night out."

At this point various men began to leave their tables 
and make their way up onto the stage. The announcer 
lined them up across the centre of the stage. By now of 
course, the stage hands had removed the rack of 
costumes, and the curtain was back to its position high 
in the ceiling. But more ominously, the stage hands had 
also brought out a big round cushion similar to the one 
the girl before me have been having sex on; at this 
point they left it at the end of the walkway out of the 
way of things happening centre stage. They were now 
busy collecting all the money from around the stage.

I tentatively made my way to the edge of the stage with 
the intention of going back to my table, when the 
announcer called, "Hey Mary, don't you want your 
dress?"

I turned and could see he was holding my little red 
dress as he stood centre stage in the spotlight. I 
walked back and took it from him, and began to step 
into it.

"I don't know about you men out there. But even though 
I can see as much of the little lady as she puts her 
dress on, as I could when she was busy taking it off; 
it somehow doesn't seem as enticing this way around."

I ignored his remark, and completed fastening the 
buttons on my dress. But it seems he wasn't finished 
with me yet. Again as I turned and was about to walk 
off stage, he took hold of my hand and turned me back 
towards him.

"Don't go just yet sweetie. Look at these virile young 
studs we have lined-up for you."

I turned and looked at the eight men all lined-up 
across the widest part of the stage.

"Wouldn't you like to try one of these men for size?"

I didn't answer, but just dropped my head low and shook 
it.

"Well lads, looks like she isn't over enthusiastic 
about your company. Maybe if you were all to show her 
what you're offering."

With that, all eight men began to strip, and in less 
than a couple of minutes, all eight of them were stood 
there with just the skimpiest of posing pouches 
covering, but not hiding the size and shape of there 
cocks.

"Well Mary my dear, has that tempted you to change your 
mind?"

I did look back, and for some unknown reason, I 
couldn't stop myself from scanning from one to the next 
until I'd assessed them all. Then he snapped me out of 
my trance, "Well? Seen anything you fancy?"

I turned back, and again dropped my head as I shook it 
to indicate I wasn't interested.

He kept hold of my hand as he again spoke to the 
audience, "Ok gentlemen. I'll bring each of these lads 
to centre stage one at a time, and if you give me a 
show of hands, we'll pick out a partner for young Mary 
here."

So that was what he did, as each of the men came to the 
front centre stage, the audience voted with a show of 
hands, and in no time they'd selected a big muscle-
bound white guy. He stood at least six-foot six tall, 
with big broad shoulders. But if his body was big, his 
dick was if anything proportionally even bigger. It 
hung in its soft silk pouch, and every step he took it 
swung from side to side. And unless he'd actually got 
something else in there to enhance its looks, his 
drooping soft dick must have been a good ten or more 
inches long. I can only imagine what it could look like 
when he got aroused! He'd rival a fucking horse!

As I stood there gazing in total amazement the 
announcer said (via his microphone, so everyone else 
could also hear), "Well Mary, it looks like we've got 
your interest at last. Now they've selected a suitable 
stud to match your delicate charms, how do you feel 
about giving us a little show?"

As I realised I'd been staring down at this guy's 
pouch, I coloured up bright red, hung my head low and 
shook it again as I tried to pull my way free from his 
grip.

"Hold up there my dear. We can all tell you're 
interested. And from your performance just now, we can 
see you've got what it takes. So why are you being so 
shy?"

I tried to whisper into his ear, but unknown to me he 
moved his mic, and it picked up my answer, "Please, I 
just want to go back to the table."

"But you haven't even found out how much money you made 
with your last little show."

At this point one of the stage hands brought over the 
money they'd picked up from the stage and told him the 
total.

"It appears your cut is one thousand one hundred and 
sixty pounds; not a bad little earner. But as she seems 
a little reluctant to take on our stud here, how about 
letting her know what she's turning down. Come on 
gents, let's see your pledges."

With that the audience began to place money on their 
tables, and one of the stagehand went around counting 
it, but then putting it back on the table it came from. 
When he'd counted the money on all the tables he came 
and again whispered into the announcer's ear.

"Well gentlemen; its plain to see you all want Mary 
here to perform with Olaf. And just for the record, 
that is the highest amount we've ever had for a 
newcomer. Just over two and a half grand. So little 
lady, are you going to turn that down? Two thousand six 
hundred, lovely pound notes."

I got a lump in my throat when I realised just how much 
money I would be turning down. With the money I'd 
already been given for displaying those costumes; that 
would be two months wages for my husband. But turn it 
down I had to, I couldn't willingly do something like 
that in front of an audience, unless it was absolutely 
necessary.

I looked up to his smiling face, and shook my head. 
Again he spoke into the mic so the whole club could 
hear, but his question was aimed at me, "You can't mean 
that? You're turning down over two grand for just one 
little ten minute romp?"

I dropped my head.

"Ok, back to your table, but if you leave the stage, 
and decide to come back again later, we can't 
guaranteed the pledge you've just been given."

With that he loosed my hand and as I turned to walk off 
the stage a ripple of dissenting voices began to build. 
It gradually turned into a chant, "Mary. Mary. WE want 
Mary. Mary. Mary. WE want Mary."

As I sat myself down at our table the announcer came 
across and knelt at the edge of the stage, and held his 
outstretched arm towards where I sat, beckoning or 
almost begging me to return to the stage, "Come Mary. 
Surely you haven't the heart to disappoint all these 
eager gentlemen?"

Graham lent across and whispered in my ear, "What are 
you waiting for; I'm sure your Gerry wouldn't want to 
miss out on two and a half grand. Especially earned so 
easily."

I shook my still lowered head. Then Graham whispered 
something in the announcer's ear.

The announcer then stood back up to face his audience, 
"Well gentlemen, it looks like this little newbie needs 
to get her husbands blessing. And I've been told that 
his attention is liable to be influenced by the sound 
of money. So before our go-between seeks his approval, 
is there anyone who wants to up the ante?"

There was a general murmuring from all around the room, 
and as I looked around, extra cash was being placed on 
tables. Again, one of the stagehands went around 
counting the money, and again he whispered into the 
announcer's ear. He then looked across to our table as 
he announced through his mic, "Right sir; tell her 
husband she's on for fifty quid short of three and a 
half grand. And that's a record for anyone, newbie or 
otherwise."

Graham got to his feet and walked out into the entrance 
lobby, and with that the announcer asked who wanted to 
be next up on stage. Within a minute there was another 
girl up on stage, and as she began her erotic dance, a 
gleaming chrome pole descended down from the ceiling 
centre stage. Once it had completed its descent, she 
then proceeded to perform a strip and pole dance. After 
removing each and every item of clothing, she would 
circle the stage perimeter, displaying her charms, and 
enticing the audience, to solicit what rewards she 
could from them.

Graham returned, and told me Gerry was on the phone in 
the lobby, and he wanted to talk to me. I went out, and 
a bouncer in the lobby handed me the phone.

"Hello. Gerry; are you there?"

"Yes. Is that you Mary? Are you alright?"

"Yes it's me, and I'm ok. Graham said you wanted to 
talk to me."

"Well he's just told me what's going on. He says you're 
with some of his friends, and they're willing to pay 
you four and a half grand if you let one of them have 
sex with you."

"It's not quite like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I'm in a private club, and yes they will pay me 
if I have sex with a guy, but not that much."

Just then Graham pressed the privacy button on the 
phone, I hadn't realised he'd followed me out and had 
been standing right behind me. Then whilst holding the 
button so Gerry couldn't hear us, he said, "It's over 
four and a half grand if you include the money you got 
for modelling those costumes. And if you don't fuck, 
you'll loose that money. After all it was Peter's stuff 
you were modelling, so he should be the one who gets 
that. So get back on the phone and tell that snivelling 
creep of a husband it's actually four thousand five-
hundred and sixty pounds riding on just one fuck!"

He then released the mute button.

"Mary, are you there?"

"Yes. Sorry, someone was talking to me."

"I thought we'd been cut-off."

"No I'm here."

"You were just saying, they aren't offering that much. 
Well how much are the offering?"

"Does it matter? Didn't you hear what I said, it isn't 
just some of his friends; we're in a club. And if I do 
it, they'll all be watching."

"Well yes. But if they're paying real big sums of 
money, it has to be worth thinking about."

I couldn't believe my ears. I'd just told him the offer 
was for me to be fucked in public, and he still wanted 
to know how much money they were offering.

"The man who they want me to have sex with is hung like 
a horse. Is that what you want me to do, perform like a 
whore to earn you some money?"

I listened, but the phone was silent. Then Graham again 
held the mute button, "You silly little cow. Do you 
realise, if you leave here now, you'll go home with 
nothing?"

"At least I'll have a little of my pride. Maybe I have 
prostituted myself with you and Peter, but that was to 
keep Gerry out of jail. But I won't sink that low for 
the sake of money."

Graham took the receiver from my hand and as he 
released the mute button, "Hi Gerry lad. I've been 
thinking. I know you've been after doing a part-ex with 
that old heap of yours for some time now. And I know 
you've been trying to buy Tony's BMW. Well here's my 
offer, my BM is only three years old, and it's got to 
be worth nine grand of anybodies money. I'll take your 
old Audi, and the money your little lady makes tonight, 
and you can have my Beemer."

There was a pause, and Graham again spoke, "What's up, 
cat got your tongue?"

"I I don't know Mr Spencer. I can see I'd be stupid to 
turn you down, but its Mary, she don't seem keen."

"Come on my boy. It's time for you to grow up. Believe 
me lad; she's got more cunt there than you can satisfy. 
And never you mind what she's been telling you; I can 
show you a video that will prove, once she gets her 
legs up, she's not bothered who's on top, she fucks 
like its going out of fashion. Come on all she needs if 
your consent. You'll regret it if you miss this chance. 
Ok I'll put the little lady back on."

Then as he passed me the phone, "Here, I think he wants 
another word."

"Mary?"

"Yes."

"Did you hear what he said?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Well I was just wondering. Is it right?"

"Is what right? Me giving a fucking show on stage with 
a man called horse, to earn you a new car. What do you 
think?"

"No Mary. Don't be like that. I mean is it right that 
once you actually start having sex, it doesn't really 
matter who's doing it to you?"

Now what could I say to this, if I denied it, I knew 
that Graham would take great delight in showing all the 
video and still shots he'd taken of me. And I was also 
aware, my facial expressions during some of this video 
would substantiate Graham's claim.

"I can't help what happens once we've started the 
actual sex. It's just something my body does. But it 
doesn't mean anything. It's not like I love them or 
anything."

"I know that, but if once you've started it feels ok, 
then it has to be worth thinking about. After all, my 
car isn't worth much over four grand, so if I get Mr 
Spencer's Beemer; that means your one little sex 
session will be worth over five grand. Do the maths, 
that's a grand a minute."

Sarcastically I said, "It might be if he's finished as 
quickly as you. But I've seen one of these men 
performing on stage with a girl. And if this monster is 
anything like the one I watched, he'll be pounding that 
giant cock of his into me for a good thirty minutes. 
Ramming it in and out at least once every second, 
that's one thousand eighteen hundred times I'll take 
his length. It's my guess this guy's cock is at least 
fourteen inches long. You do the maths. That's not even 
twenty pence an inch!" (Mental arithmetic always was my 
strong suit.)

"Oh come on Mary. Please. He can't be that big. And 
anyway, if it's too big it won't go in. You can only 
take what your pussy is made to take."

"So you want me to go out on stage and let this 
stranger split me wide open with the whole club 
watching?"

"Don't say it like that. Just tell Mr Spencer you'll do 
it, I'm sure he'll make sure you're ok."

"CRASH!"

I slammed the receiver back down that hard it's a 
wonder it didn't break. I turned and stomped back into 
the club, with Graham following me. As I sat down I saw 
Peter giving Graham an inquisitive look, but as there 
was now another girl on stage writhing around with a 
lighted candle in each hand, neither of them spoke, but 
Graham answered with a big grin. Peter obviously 
understood, as he leant back in his chair, and took a 
big draw on his cigar, a satisfied smile beamed from 
his face. Within seconds of us returning to the table, 
the announcer had made his way around the floor, not on 
stage, and was sidling up to Graham, who whispered in 
his ear. Then his face turned to a smile, and off he 
disappeared into the shadows.

I sat back in a trance waiting for this girl to finish 
her act, and my inevitable downfall to commence. 
Suddenly I was aware of someone placing their hand on 
my shoulder, and as I turned to see who it was the 
announcer whispered, "Come with me."

I looked at Peter; as if asking 'should I go with him?' 
He just nodded and gave me a smile. I rose to my feet 
and followed him out to the lobby, and then into a side 
office where he handed me a very legal looking 
document. As I tried to make sense of the legally 
worded jargon, he said, "It's just our standard consent 
form. If you read it all, and can understand what it 
means, you'll be the first one who has. It's just 
covering us in case you suddenly go to the police 
tomorrow, and cry rape. It basically says you're 
willingly taking part in a fucking session, with an 
audience."

"Why do you need that; surely every man out there is a 
witness to me getting on stage voluntarily?"

"It doesn't really apply in your case, but its club 
policy, no waiver form, no performance. And that means 
no money. It's really to cover girls who are roll 
playing; pretending to be for instance, a night nurse 
making her rounds on her own, and several patients take 
hold of her and she gets gang raped. See to be in 
character, she'll be saying no, and even crying out, 
'RAPE! RAPE!'."

"Oh, I see. But I still can't see why I need to sign 
one."

"Like I said, club policy, no waiver form, no 
performance; and that means no money."

I scrawled my signature and handed him the form. He 
slipped it into the desk draw and said, "Ok, let's get 
you ready."

As he left the office, I followed but instead of 
leading me back into the club to where Peter and Graham 
were I assumed still waiting; he turned the opposite 
way down the lobby, and led me into a different room. 
This was obviously a dressing room, as it had five 
stools, each with its own mirror in front of it, 
bordered with strip lights. The whole of the rest of 
the room was crammed with racks of costumes. I say 
costumes, not like the beachwear ones I'd modelled, 
these were clothes, but more like fancy dress or 
theatrical. From what I could see you could dress up as 
any kind of character you could dream of.

"Why do I need to come in here?"

He didn't answer immediately, but he was busy sorting 
along a rack. It only took him half a minute to find 
and pull out a nun's habit. He turned and held it out 
with his face supporting a big beaming smile.

"There you are. Sister Mary. What could be more 
perfect? You can go out on stage fully clothed, and 
kneel down to say your prayers. I'll get Olaf and a few 
others to dress as soldiers. That way you can fight and 
struggle as much as you want. The one thing that can 
screw-up an operation like ours is if a girl like you 
says she will one minute. And then the next minute, 
gets cold feet, and backs out when she sees it's for 
real. This way, we don't have that problem, you've 
signed to take a fucking, and any cries for help are 
just acting out the part."

With that he handed me the complete outfit and left the 
room. At first I was horrified, but the more I thought 
about my situation the more I felt at ease with it. I 
didn't have to be a whore, or submit willingly. I could 
fight like a cat, and Gerry would still get his money, 
cos I'd get fucked no matter what. I stripped and 
started to put on all the heavy coarse underwear that 
came with the nun's costume.

I'd just put the vest/bodice over my head and was busy 
getting it straight when the door opened and in trouped 
six men. One of them dashed across and slipped his hand 
in between my naked legs. I dropped my hands to reach 
behind me and took hold of his wrist. But another pair 
of men had joined in, and one each side began to pull 
my ankles slowly apart. My hands on the intruders wrist 
were pointless as now my legs were opening, he just 
slipped his fingers under and up into my pussy.

I pleaded, "Please don't."

Of course I never expected them to listen, but the big 
man who I knew was called Olaf, barked out, "You heard 
her."

"Fuck you. She's ours for the taking."

The words had hardly left his lips before I heard a 
frightening, "CRACK!"

And then seconds later, "THUD!"

Olaf had struck the man with a blow to the head and 
he'd dropped like a stone hitting his head on the floor 
as he landed. Just at that second the announcer came 
in, "What the fucks going on?"

"That pig needed some wax clearing from his ears. When 
he comes around, tell him not to come anywhere near 
this little girl."

"You big oaf. She's here to be fucked."

"I know that, and I'm the one who's going to do it. But 
that doesn't mean she has to put up with dickheads like 
him until we get on stage. She told him to leave-off."

"I sometimes wonder if it's worth putting up with your 
fucking attitude. I've told you before, once they've 
signed, they fuck. It's that simple."

He then turned and addressed the rest of the men, "Now 
all of you get fucking ready, or they'll be a riot out 
there as well."

As the announcer left the room I turned to Olaf and 
said, "Thank you. But I didn't want to get you into 
trouble."

"No trouble. Are you ok? You do want to fuck with me?"

I know I didn't, but I had to say yes, otherwise my 
Gerry would be so disappointed.

"Yes. I'm ok."

"But I could see you were dead-set against it earlier; 
and that was when you would only have been fucked by 
me. How come you're now saying yes to a gang rape?"

"Gang rape? Nobody mentioned anything about gang rape."

"Well why do you think this lot are getting all 
dressed-up?"

"I was told they would be holding me, so it would look 
like you were raping me."

"You've signed a waiver form and once you appear on 
stage, not only this lot will follow me, but anyone 
from the audience. Mark my words, you've created a stir 
out there, they'll be queuing-up. It's my bet you'll 
take at least thirty men before you go home."

I was obviously horror struck, "Oh my god! What can I 
do?"

"So I can take it from your reaction, you don't want 
any fucking?"

"Well my husband wants me to bring back the money they 
pledged, but that was supposed to be for having sex 
with one man; you."

"That won't happen now. You should have said yes on 
stage. You won't get a penny now unless you roll-play, 
and that will be a free-for-all."

"How can I get out now? He's got my signature. What 
ever I do or say, they can claim they thought it was 
playacting."

"It won't be easy, but if you trust me, and do exactly 
what I say, I'll try to get you out."

I looked up at this giant of a man, now in an army 
uniform, complete with those black markings that you 
sometimes see on the faces of battle ready soldiers. He 
looked every inch like a fierce and ungodly animal. My 
first thoughts were, if I agree to do as he tells me, 
he's bound to make sure he gets his fuck no matter 
whether he helps me out of this mess or not. But then I 
reasoned, if I don't follow him, I'm doomed anyway. So 
even though I didn't trust him to have my best 
interests at heart, I reasoned he was my best or only 
option.

"Please help me; I'll do what ever you tell me."

"Ok, you walk out now, and I'll be right behind you. 
But what ever you do don't try to make a run for 
freedom unless I tell you. And if I tell you 'up', as I 
bend down towards you, you leap up onto my shoulder and 
hang onto me for dear life. Now let's go."

I got up from the stool I'd been sitting on and began 
to walk towards the door at the far end of the dressing 
room, the one I now knew led to the stage. As I glanced 
back, I saw him pick up a big stout baton, about the 
size of a baseball bat, and then he marched right up 
close following my every footstep.

As we reached the curtains, we could hear there was 
another act already performing on stage, and by parting 
them slightly, we could both get a glimpse to see how 
near she was to her finale. As it was, the girl on 
stage was performing various poses, or moves, with a 
wand to which was attached a long ribbon which curled 
and twirled as she went head over heals around the 
stage. This was the kind of thing I'd associate with a 
rhythmic gymnast, but as she wasn't wearing any 
panties, it kind of threw a new meaning on every 
stretch and tumble. I guess we'd been waiting no more 
than two minutes before she had completed her act and 
was taking her bows, and then collecting her money.

Just at that moment, the announcer appeared at our side 
and asked Olaf, "Are you ready?"

"We are."

And with that he grabbed the mic from the announcer, 
and pushed me through the curtains; he continued with, 
"But I'll do the introductions."

And as he shoved me out onto the stage and followed 
closely behind me, "Go on, but stick close."

I was catapulted out into the spotlight, and as I 
stumbled past the girl who was returning to the 
dressing room, I could hear Olaf over the speaker 
system.

"Right gentlemen. I'm sorry to announce a change to the 
show. As you are I'm sure aware, little Mary is new to 
this game, and she isn't yet confident enough to 
perform. I know you were told different."

At this point the announcer was also out on stage and 
trying to take hold of the mic. Olaf lifted up his 
baton, and the announcer seeing he meant business, 
backed off.

"I know you're all disappointed, and believe me, so am 
I. But even though she might have signed a consent 
form, she's changed her mind now. I'm telling all of 
you; anyone who touches her will be guilty of rape."

By now there were big doormen climbing up onto the 
stage from all around us, and Olaf was circling around 
with me tucked in front of him, his free hand high in 
the air threatening anyone who came close with the big 
baton.

"Ok, make a way clear, we're leaving the stage."

Slowly the circle of doormen parted, and we gradually 
made our way to the steps leading back to the floor 
area. As we slowly made our way forwards, the angry men 
closed up behind us, and the ones in front begrudgingly 
parted to allow us through. I never thought we'd reach 
the exit, but reach it we did, and we were soon outside 
in the cool night air.

As the door closed behind us, it was obvious we had 
left via a different door to the one I arrived at, and 
we were now in a basement car park. I'd expected us to 
be followed out, but not one head appeared from the 
door. I looked up at this giant of a man and asked, 
"Won't they follow us?"

"Not now you're outside, the form you signed doesn't 
cover any activity out here."

"Where are we?"

"This is a multi-storey car park. We can use those 
stairs to get back up to ground level."

With that he walked me across to a stairway, and up we 
climbed. As we appeared out in the street, the big limo 
arrived and pulled up alongside us and the door opened. 
Peter and Graham were in the back, and Graham lent out 
from the door and began a slow hand-clap, "Some 
performance. A costly one; but a good performance 
never-the-less. Well are you getting in?"

"I I don't know, what are you going to do to me if I 
get in?"

"Take you home, what else."

I looked past Graham and my question was directed at 
Peter, "Can I trust you to take me straight home?"

Olaf put his hand on my shoulder, and before anyone in 
the car answered, he'd pulled me aside, and stepped in 
himself. He then lent out to me and gave me his hand to 
usher me in. As my head appeared in the car, Olaf said, 
"You can now."

As I'd said before this was a big stretched limo, and 
Olaf and me sat with our backs to the driver, facing 
Peter and Graham. So although face to face there was a 
good five or more feet between us.

As we dropped back into the seats, Graham looked at 
Olaf, and said sarcastically, "Come in, make yourself 
at home."

Then he added, "I wanted to have a word with you 
anyway"

Olaf was not a man to be intimidated, and instead of 
letting Graham take control of the conversation, he 
moved forwards to the edge of his seat, and pointed 
that big baton directly at Graham's head, "You pig! Men 
like you make me sick. You bring nice young girl to a 
shit hole like that, and then force her to behave like 
an animal."

Graham looked scared, but he did try to regain the 
situation, "Now hang on a minute. She came with us of 
her own free will. We weren't forcing her to do 
anything. And anyway, who are you to criticise. You 
would have been the one fucking her guts out."

"Crack!"

I guess there wasn't any real force behind the blow, 
but Olaf had just prodded his baton into Graham's 
forehead, and the crack was audible. And judging by the 
way Graham grabbed his head and dropped it momentarily 
into his lap, I guess it hurt plenty.

"I fuck only girls who want to be fucked. And I 
wouldn't be doing that if I had money like you. You 
might be able to buy trash like me to get your kicks, 
but there are depths even I won't stoop to. Now listen 
to me."

At this point he shook his baton towards both Peter and 
then back to Graham who had now lifted his head back 
up. Incidentally, by now a big lump had already 
appeared on his forehead.

"I'm going to make it my business to talk to this 
little girl tomorrow, and if either of you have done 
anything to her, or arranged for anyone else to do 
anything to her that she isn't happy with. Then you had 
better disappear from the face of the planet. I'll hunt 
you down and rip your guts out. Now stop this fucking 
car."

Graham and Peter both looked ashen faced, as Graham 
lent across pressed the button and spoke into the 
little grill by his side.

"Ok Jimmy. You can pull up here."

The voice came back through the speakers, "But sir, 
we're miles from anywhere, and on a motorway."

Graham looked across at Olaf, as if asking if he still 
wanted to have the car stopped. Olaf used his baton and 
pushed Graham in the chest forcing him along the seat 
towards Peter. He then lent across and spoke into the 
grill.

"Find the nearest town and stop somewhere I can get a 
taxi."

Graham might have been scared, and that would of course 
be understandable, but give him his due, he slowly 
moved the end of the baton from his chest and as he 
leant back towards the grill he pressed the little 
button by the side of it, "Carry on Jimmy; I'll get 
back you in a minute."

Then he looked at Olaf, "He didn't hear your 
instruction, so don't go bashing him on the head. And 
if you tell us where you want to go, we can take you. 
There's no need for a taxi."

Olaf looked more than a little agitated, "Don't get 
fucking clever with me. I'm still the one holding the 
stick."

"I'm not getting clever my boy. And I don't know why 
you're so up tight. Surely we can all be friends?"

Then he looked at me, "Come Mary; think about your 
Gerry's future. Surely you can reassure Olaf here that 
we are all good friends."

I knew he was hinting about the trouble my Gerry could 
get into, or to be more accurate, the trouble he could 
cause for my Gerry. Somewhere along the way, I'd 
forgotten he still held the trump card. I turned and 
looked up at Olaf, "He's right. I know I was scared 
back there in the club. But I didn't realise what I was 
getting myself into. And I'm more than just grateful 
for your help. Without you, I don't know what would 
have happened."

Graham said softly, "We do."

As I looked across he was sitting there with a big 
beaming smile. I lifted myself up and planted a soft 
kiss on Olaf cheek.

"See lad, she might be a bit on the shy side, but once 
she gets to know you, she's like any other bitch on 
heat."

Olaf face turned from the soft mellow smile I'd managed 
to bring about, into a fierce snarl as he growled, "You 
are rude and disgusting man."

"No Olaf. You don't know the little girl. Come on Mary, 
tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"You just said you were grateful for his help. I'm sure 
you want to show him how grateful."

It was obvious what he had on his mind, but knowing the 
bottom line was playing along or Gerry going to prison, 
I asked him anyway, "By doing what?"

"Invite him back to your house with us. Maybe Gerry 
would like to see the man who saved his wife's honour."

"It's late; Olaf has probably got things to do, or 
needs to be somewhere."

"Ask him."

"Would you like to meet my husband?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to?"

"I guess he will want to thank you."

"That is not necessary."

"But I want to thank you."

"You already have, that kiss was thanks enough."

Graham piped up in a sarcastic tone, "How sweet. It's 
like a medieval maiden who's been saved by a knight in 
shining armour. Come on Mary cut the crap. Invite him 
back to fuck you."

Again Olaf scowled, but he said nothing.

"Don't look so angry. Slip your hand up her habit (I 
was of course still dressed in the nun's habit), and 
you'll find her snatch is dripping wet. She wants your 
dick like a dog wants a bone."

I could see Graham's eyes burning into me, urging me to 
offer myself to Olaf. I plucked up the courage, and 
looked up at his still scowling face, "Please Olaf, he 
is telling the truth. I do want to show you my 
gratitude. Come back with us, and we can make love."

"Your husband! What will he say?"

Graham chipped in, "He'll be a good little boy, and sit 
quietly watching."

Olaf looked concerned as he asked, "Are you sure you 
want me to come to your house?"

"Yes. I need to repay your kindness."

"That's settled then, we should be arriving at your 
place any minute, and then once our Olaf here has done 
the business, we'll give him a lift to where ever he 
calls home."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, but both Graham 
and Peter had smiles on their faces like two excited 
school boys. Olaf and I kept exchanging glances, and as 
I began to think of what would soon be taking place 
between us, I could feel my tummy getting to a boiling 
point. I'm not sure how much my eagerness showed in my 
face, but as we exchanged glances, I saw Olaf's face 
change from one of concern and pity, to gradually a 
look of desire. 

As the drivers voice announced our arrival at my house, 
Graham looked at me and said, "Ok, let me do the 
talking. And remember, what will happen if you screw-up 
this time."

It was obvious Olaf heard Graham's threat, but either 
he didn't understand its relevance, or he was so far 
down the path to our imminent union that nothing now 
mattered; but what ever the case, the remark didn't 
even show in a change of facial expression.

So as I opened the front door graham called up the 
stairs, "Hey Gerry lad, we've brought your little lady 
home."

I guess Gerry hadn't been asleep, as his reply was 
almost immediate, "Ok I'll be down in a second."

We all went into the front room and were sitting down 
as Gerry walked in. He looked more than a little 
surprised to see so many people; I guess he'd thought 
it would be just me and Graham.

"Come in lad. That's it sit yourself down. This is Mr. 
Harris, the advertising man from the knickers firm. And 
this is the hero of the night, Olaf."

You could see the look of curiosity on Gerry face, and 
Graham continued, "Yes, I know last we spoke your 
little lady was about to win you a new car, but things 
didn't pan out that way. You see being as she didn't 
get up on stage and accept the money they were 
offering, the club got a bit nervous about her. And 
once they can't be sure of a girl's intentions, they 
have to cover themselves; insurance so to speak."

"I-I don't understand."

"Well the upshot was, if she wanted to earn that wedge 
for you, she had to sign a waiver form, and agree to a 
bit of group sex."

"Group? But it was supposed to be just one guy?"

"I've told you, she just wasn't reliable, so it was 
group or nothing."

Gerry looked very worried, and Graham continued, "Well 
she put a brave face on it, and signed the form, and 
then got dress-up ready to playact a rape scene. But 
somewhere in between signing and going out on stage, 
she got cold feet, or dry snatch, one or the other. But 
now her problem was how to get out of there."

"Why couldn't she just tell them she had changed her 
mind?"

"Because they had a signed form, which meant they could 
actually rape her, and claim she'd agreed. So in steps 
our hero. He wielded his big baseball bat and fought 
her way out to freedom."

Gerry dashed across to me, and hugged me, "You weren't 
hurt?"

"No. Nobody touched me. Thanks to Olaf."

And at that point I turned and gave Olaf an admiring 
look. Gerry let go of me and turned to look at Olaf, 
who was still the most terrifying sight, and as he took 
hold of his hand with both of his own, he shook it 
saying, "I don't know how I can thank you enough, but 
if there's ever anything I can do for you, just say."

Before Olaf could reply, Graham was ready with his 
planned intervention, "Well Gerry lad, now you mention 
it. There is something Olaf was looking forward to. And 
helping your little lady meant he sacrificed his own 
desires. And my boy, it's something that's within your 
powers to give him."

"What? If there's anything he wants that I've got, it's 
his for the asking."

"I was kind of hoping you feel that way. You see this 
is the man who was about to perform with your little 
lady on stage, and if he hadn't rescued her, he'd have 
been the first one to have his pleasure."

I could see the meaning was now gelling in Gerry head, 
and as he turned and looked at Graham he asked, "He 
wants to fuck her?"

"Of course he does my boy, doesn't every man that sees 
her. But more than just wanting to fuck her, I think 
you have to agree, he's earned the right."

Gerry looked at me next, "And you, what do you think?"

Well as we all know it's wasn't a matter of what I 
thought or felt, as this was Graham's wish, if I didn't 
agree, I would be sending Gerry to prison.

"He did save me from being raped, and if he hadn't, I'd 
still be back in that club being abused by one man 
after another. He should be rewarded."

"Ok. I guess you and him might as well go upstairs and 
use our bedroom, we'll stay down here until he's 
finished."

"That's my boy, but now you've seen sense, try putting 
a bit more meaning into your offer. Go on tell Olaf 
you'd be pleased if he'd accept sex with your wife as a 
reward, and as a gesture of how much you appreciate his 
help."

Gerry now seemed to accept this with a lot more ease 
than I'd imagined, and he turned back to Olaf, again 
taking his hand with both of his own, "Thank you for 
making sure my wife wasn't hurt. And I'd like, no I'd 
be please if you'd have sex with my Mary. She is dear 
to me, but I can see she likes you, and I feel I can 
trust you not to hurt her."

Graham got to his feet, "Be back in a jiffy with my 
camera, Gerry lad, nip upstairs and grab a quilt off 
the bed and a few sheets, so we can spread them out 
across the floor. Peter can you get Olaf to help you 
move all the furniture to the outside of the room. We 
want plenty of clear space for them to perform on."

Gerry looked gob smacked, and as Graham was about to 
walk from the room he called, "But Mr Spencer."

Graham stopped in the doorway, "What now lad. Make it 
snappy, poor Olaf has been gagging for this fuck all 
night."

"But I thought they'd go upstairs and do it in 
private."

"Ha. Well you thought wrong, when that donkey cock of 
his spreads her snatch open; I'm gonna be front row, 
with camera on full zoom. And if I'm not mistaken, 
you'll be sitting in the corner watching and wanking 
like a love-sick monkey."

With that he disappeared and went out to his car.

By the time he'd returned, all the seating and tables 
were moved back to the walls, and Gerry had done as he 
was told, so Peter organised Gerry and Olaf into 
covering the carpets as fully as the sheets could 
manage.

"Good work lads, now how are you going to do this, do 
you want to be the nun being forced, or are you going 
to just undress and get stuck in?"

I could see his question was aimed towards me, but as I 
stood there not knowing how to answer, Peter said, 
"Well if it's all the same to Mary, I like the idea of 
a nun reading her bible by candle light, and then 
blowing out her candle and using it to get some sexual 
relief. Then our big soldier can find her in the middle 
of her masturbation, and show her what her cunt is made 
for."

Graham looked delighted with this idea, "Great, well 
Mary, can you go with that one?"

I reluctantly replied, "I suppose so."

"And you Olaf, can you hold back long enough to let her 
work her snatch up to a lather?"

"I'll do it what ever way she wants me to."

Sarcastically Graham said, "Arh, isn't he nice. Right 
we need a candle, Gerry lad can you find one, and a 
book, something that might look like a bible."

I knew Gerry wouldn't have any idea where to look, "Its 
ok, I'll find them myself."

I actually had a real bible, and I went upstairs and 
collected it, but candles were not something we 
normally kept. All I could think of was a Christmas 
candle from last year it was in the cupboard by the 
fuse box, in case of a fuse blowing or a power cut. So 
I returned with bible in one hand, and a Santa minus 
its head (which had burnt away last time the candle had 
been used) in the other. What I hadn't even thought 
about was this candle was actually quite thick and 
knobbly, as it was after all a Santa carrying his sack 
full of toys. When Graham saw it he burst out laughing, 
and seconds later so did Peter.

As each of us began to see the absurdity of the sight, 
a nun holding a bible and headless Santa, first I 
joined in, then Gerry, and eventually even Olaf; though 
I'm not sure he actually thought it funny.

"Well come on then. This is gonna be one silly little 
movie. Right Mary, on your knees, and pretend to read 
your bible. Gerry lad, light the candle." We all 
followed instruction, and as I played my part, Graham 
began to film. Peter had a still camera and was 
intermittently taking photos.

As instructed I read my bible, and then placed it down 
on the floor. Then after wetting my fingers and 
pinching out the candle Graham said, "Hold up, lets do 
that again, only this time kneel up straight, lift the 
hem of your habit, and wet your finger and thumb from 
your snatch, and before you use it to pinch out the 
candle, hold it out so we can see the sticky tendrils 
as your fingers part. Then pinch your candle. I did as 
he'd told me, and yes my pussy had got more than enough 
wet sticky juices to perform his request. Although I 
was acting a part and couldn't blatantly look at my 
audience, every glimpse I caught, told me; that to a 
man, they were transfixed, and from the glazed looks 
I'd guess all rock hard; but that last bit is pure 
supposition.

As I now start to fondle my candle, holding it in one 
hand and sliding the other up and down its knobbles and 
bumps, I begin to wonder it I'll be able to get 
something of this size and shape up inside me. After a 
few minutes of this fondling, I bring my legs from 
underneath me, and then lie back. With one hand running 
the candle through my open mouth with tongue lapping it 
as it passes, my other hand is pulling my robes and 
exposing my breasts. 

Once I've uncovered my chest area, I move the candle 
and now I'm rubbing in the valley of my breasts. As I 
said, my audience are all watching with eyes on stalks, 
but it isn't only them who is getting excited, I can 
feel my hips lifting, and it isn't because I'm acting. 
My free hand pulls the hem up and then furiously tugs 
at the coarse material of the undergarments that nun's 
wear as knickers. They are obviously not meant to pull 
away quickly, but I find the wide legs give access to 
my pussy without the need to remove them. So with one 
hand pulling the material across, I bring the Santa 
down to meet my wet and wanting hole.

As I push it against my wet lips, I can feel the 
knobbly bumps digging into my pelvic bone structure. I 
rotate it around and lean it from side to side, but I 
begin to think this was not a wise choice. Then without 
warning, I feel a swelling as my pussy lips stretch 
over Santa's shoulders, and keep stretching as his big 
fat tummy and toy sack slide up inside me. I felt every 
bump and moulded feature of this novelty candle as it 
stretched and distorted the walls of my pussy. But as 
if on auto-pilot, I pushed it deep up inside until I'd 
only just got my fingertips holding the base. 

Then I began to alternately pull and push, sliding it 
in and out of my pussy. But far from, as you might 
expect, causing pain; every knobble caused a ripple of 
excitement, and each ripple built with the next to 
generate a wave of exhilarating pleasure.

This was no longer an act, and even if they'd all left 
the room right now, I'd have continued until my pussy 
erupted. But, of course, at this point in my little 
performance, nobody was about to go anywhere, they were 
all squatted around me with eyes on stalks. Especially 
my Gerry, I think the look of horror on his face when 
he saw me trying to work the Santa up my pussy, showed 
he was more frightened, than I'd been. But by now he 
was like the rest of them, staring as they revelled in 
my performance. It was around now when Graham gave Olaf 
the signal to start his act.

As Olaf loomed up alongside me standing there with his 
big baton held high, I guess the poor timid nun was 
supposed to let go of her candle or pull it out. But at 
the very least, she'd have closed her legs and tried to 
cover up. But I couldn't stop my fingers ramming poor 
old Santa up and down my chimney. So Olaf put his baton 
down and knelt along side me, and just began to use his 
hands to work my breasts. His lips came to mine, and 
our tongues intermingled. It wasn't the rape of an 
unwilling nun as they'd wanted, but I hadn't the power 
or will to resist, acting or otherwise.

So as Olaf gradually moved one of his hands down to my 
crotch, he took hold of the candle and relieved my 
hands of the task they had been busy with. So now with 
two free hands I began to release all the pins and 
buttons that held this silly habit in place, and with 
the help of Olaf free hands, gradually my body became 
naked. But without thinking about my actions, my hands 
then started work on the soldiers uniform Olaf was 
wearing, and again, between us, we gradually stripped 
him, without little Santa getting any respite at all. 
Hence by the time we were both naked and I caught sight 
of his magnificent erection, my poor little pussy was 
throbbing and pulsating wildly. 

Something I should explain; as before, even though I 
was one the main participants in this performance, a 
lot of what I'm now relating, especially the visual 
aspects of it, I only know from watching Graham's video 
afterwards. The only visuals I could actually see were 
Olaf and the faces of my audience, especially my poor 
Gerry.

But back to Olaf and I, as I'd said my pussy was 
pouting, and although I could feel the sensation, this 
was one thing the video showed in close-up, and also 
caused plenty of comment at the video showing later. 
But it wasn't just my pussy that demonstrated my 
arousal, my hips were also rhythmically lifting, and 
with each lift my knees would turn outwards, offering 
my pussy to this gigantic Adonis. 

It must have been obvious to all that I was ready, and 
as soon as Olaf removed the candle, he positioned 
himself in-between my legs, and as he looked me in the 
eyes, he asked, "Are you ready?"

My mind and body were in total agreement, but my body 
got its answer in first. So as I heaved my hips 
forwards, impaling my pussy with his cock, I made the 
meaningless reply, "Yes please."

But the word please hadn't left my lips before I 
started to sigh and moan as the pain of the pussy 
stretching began to overwhelm my consciousness, "Oh ohh 
ah. Ah uh urr. Oww oh fuck."

And with each successive thrust, my sighs got longer, 
"Oohw ooh ooooh."

And then as he gradually picked up his pace and pushed 
deeper, the tone of my moans went higher, "Ooh ooh fuck 
me ooooowh."

Going back to my Gerry's words of comfort; when he'd 
been trying to persuade me to have sex in the club; 'if 
it's too big it won't go in. You can only take what 
your pussy is made to take.' So being as my pussy was 
as turned-on and eager for action as it was possible to 
be, I might have expected it would have stretched to 
accommodate Olaf's cock within a few strokes. But 
although I now thought that to be the case, later 
viewing showed, even after three minutes of hard 
pushing, there was still a good three inches not being 
used!

My moans and sighs as I felt my pussy stretching to 
accept his size, gradually changed from expressions of 
the pain I was experiencing, to sighs of pleasure. And 
even though I realised at the time, this would upset my 
Gerry, these were feelings, I couldn't suppress.

Olaf pounded my pussy and I had at least five minor 
orgasms, ones that a week ago I'd have called mind 
blowing, but now with my experiences over the last few 
days, I knew that a full blown eruption would render me 
to a state of higher consciousness, but with complete 
loss of bodily control. So as each tremor shook my 
body, I'd scream and vocalise my pleasure, but a 
subconscious body management system must have been 
monitoring Olaf's performance and waiting for him to 
show signs of climax.

Then as I felt Olaf's monster slipping out of my pussy, 
I suddenly began to wonder if during one of my tremors, 
I'd somehow missed his climax, and now it was all over. 
I know I felt worried and disappointed, but it was only 
later I realised just how obvious this disappointment 
was, as it showed on my face as plainly as if I'd held 
out a placard proclaiming it. But almost immediately, 
as I was lifting myself up onto my elbow, I realised 
Olaf was just mid way through his performance, and he 
was now re-positioning himself on his back.

Again, later viewing showed my facial expression 
change, and me scrambling rapidly into the kneeling 
position to lower myself down onto his mighty shaft. 
And even this, as I remember it was still a very tight 
fit, but judging by the video, I just used my hands to 
position the big bulbous head at my entrance, and 
launched myself down onto it. It slid in as if this was 
its natural home, and I rode myself up and down it like 
something possessed. And while I'm giving you the 
prospective as viewed from the video, or my audience, 
it was also clear I was now taking most of his shaft; 
maybe only an inch more to go.

But from my prospective, this last part of our session 
was where my real orgasm began to take hold, and 
gradually I lost all conscious control, and hence 
memory of events. My senses were in complete overload, 
as if each wild stimulation was an exploding firework, 
and I was stood in the middle of a burning firework 
warehouse, with explosions and bright colourful 
displays bursting all around me.

But as I've said, my audience saw a wanton slut, riding 
her stud as if that was all that mattered. Sweat was 
pouring from every part of my body, and my long hair 
hung down onto the sweat soaked chest of my stallion. 
My ample sized (38 b) breasts were also hanging down, 
now stretched, as they bounced and swung around, as if 
dancing to the tune of my grunts and sighs. It was no 
time at all before Graham pointed out to me and, of 
course, the rest of them watching the video, "See and 
you were saying his cock was too big. Your little 
snatch is taking his whole length now. And look at the 
way it grips his shaft when you lift up on it. It 
almost pulls that snatch inside out. Its like it 
doesn't want it to leave."

As we all sat around watching the video playback, they 
all found Graham's observations quite funny, even 
surprisingly, my Gerry. But I don't think Graham wanted 
Gerry to be at ease with what had happened, and as he 
again began to make remarks, I began to think he was 
trying to goad Gerry into some kind of reaction.

"See lad, it was like I told you. She's got more cunt 
than you could ever handle."

Gerry didn't answer, but the excited look he'd had on 
his face up to now, did drop into a slight scowl.

I was sat on the floor, but I took hold of Gerry's arm, 
and gave him a reassuring squeeze, as I looked 
smilingly up to his face and mouthed the words 'I Love 
You'. But Graham wasn't done with his tormenting, "Come 
on then Olaf; tell us how long that weapon of yours 
is?"

"It's been measured at thirty-six centimetres."

"Fuck the Euro-talk, what's that in English?"

"A little over fourteen inches."

"Come on then Gerry lad; let's see you put a rule 
alongside your dick."

Gerry face was so sad, but I again gave him a smile, 
and then turning and scowling at Graham I said, "He 
doesn't need a big cock to impress me; he's got all the 
loving I'll ever need."

"Well said my dear, but watching the way you're riding 
Olaf here, I can't think you'll convince any of us. 
You're ramming that big Swede up you like you haven't 
had any real meat in there for over a month."

"Well that just shows how pathetic your cock must be, 
it's only been a couple of hours since you fucked me."

I'd intended that to be a put-down on Graham, but Gerry 
didn't show any sign that he found any comfort in my 
remark. Yet Graham far from being annoyed at my remark, 
smiled as he came back with, "Touché. I wasn't going to 
mention the way you reacted to my fuck. But being as 
you don't mind talking about it in front of Gerry. 
How's about after we seen Olaf's finale, I put on the 
video that Peter took of you and me?"

I looked up at the clock, "It's gone three in the 
morning, I think we should call it a night now. Gerry 
has to be in work by seven-thirty."

"Nonsense, I'm sure he'd like to see how you and me got 
on. And being as he's been a good lad tonight, I'm sure 
I can let him off going to work tomorrow."

"But he has to go in, we need the money."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about money, I'll 
make sure he gets a full weeks pay. Now Gerry lad 
wouldn't you like to see how well she fucked, just to 
keep you out of trouble?"

Before Gerry could answer Peter spoke up, "Well I don't 
know about Gerry, but I for one am ready to call it a 
night once we've watched the end of Olaf little fuck. 
And looking at Olaf, I think even he's showing signs of 
wear. Little Mary sure knows how to drain the juices 
from her lovers. So unless you're gonna stay the night 
here?"

This wasn't a suggestion I wanted to hear, but luckily, 
Graham decided he'd call it a night after this video.

And back to this video, it had been going on for so 
long, it was almost getting boring, (well from my point 
of view), but now I could tell from the movements we 
were both beginning to make, he was about to deliver 
his cum. His hands were on my waist, and he began to 
lift and then ram me down hard, holding me whilst his 
own body could be seen to shudder. Then up he'd lift, 
and again down I'd go. He did this at least ten times, 
and then he released my waist and his hands dropped 
limp at his side.

"Graham at this point gave a cheer, and there were 
smiles all around on the faces of the others, including 
Gerry. But then it was me who took over the action, I 
was still writing my body on what was left of his cock. 
My hands were clinging into the flesh on his chest, as 
my hips thrust back and forth until his big soft 
sausage like cock slipped from my wet and glistening 
pussy. But I still didn't stop, my hips kept thrusting, 
as I spread a slimy trail of juices over Olaf's tummy 
and up across his hairy chest. I thought I was about to 
embarrass myself even further by squatting over his 
face, but at this point I rolled over and lay alongside 
him just humping my hips high in the air.

I was by now with my head towards where Graham had been 
filming from, and he came in for a close-up of my face.

"See Gerry lad, that's a real orgasm. That smile will 
live in her memory for weeks to come."

He then moved his camera and ended his filming showing 
a close-up of the juices running from my pussy, "And 
that my lad is one well fucked and completely contented 
snatch."

Gerry again looked down, but Peter brought Graham's 
tormenting to an end with, "Ok Graham let's get Olaf 
back to where he wants to go, and let me get back to my 
bed."

He then reached out and took hold of Gerry's hand, 
"Well my boy, it's been good to meet you. And I can't 
thank you enough for giving us the use of your little 
lady. You're a lucky fellow, make sure you look after 
her, she's gonna do you proud over the next few weeks. 
Ok Graham have you got all your stuff together?"

"I think so, come on Olaf, you let us know where to 
drop you off. And Gerry lad, don't look so down. I know 
you lost out on my motor, but I'm sure there'll be 
other opportunities. Oh and forget work tomorrow, I'll 
be back to see you at some point during the day. Well 
Mary my love, I hope you've enjoyed the evening half as 
much as we did."

To my surprise, Gerry spoke up, not I hasten to add in 
a happy tone, "If that video is anything to go by, I 
think we can take it she did."

"See lad, it wasn't all that bad, was it?"

He didn't answer. And slowly they all left.

We sat there not speaking for what seamed like an age, 
and then the recriminations started.

"How could you say those things?"

"What?"

"While he was doing it to you. You were like a dirty 
wild animal."

"I was, was I? Well who was the one who wanted me to do 
that with him?"

"Not me. It was you who said you wanted to reward him."

"You fucking hypocrite. I'm going up to bed. And don't 
you try coming up after me."

So sobbing as I went, I waddled my way from the room 
and up the stairs dragging some sheets with me. I lay 
on my bed sobbing, and awoke some time in the morning, 
still in a wet soggy heap. But now, it was a stinking 
wet and disgusting heap. I went to the bathroom and the 
warm water gradually brought back the memories of Olaf 
and the night before. Not the horrid bits of people 
watching, or being forced to humiliate myself. No, 
these were like the water, warm, and without any form 
of stimulation, my pussy began to re-run the feelings; 
as if it had been a recorder of sensation, and was now 
on play-back. I found myself slumping down onto my 
haunches, and as the water cascaded over my body I 
heaved and humped as I felt his wonderful cock 
stretching inside my body. I didn't actually black-out, 
but I was on the edge of consciousness, and came to, 
feeling contented.

After that I had to force myself to get a grip, and so 
I completed my shower, and was soon back in my bedroom 
getting dressed. I then had to gather all the messed-up 
sheets and took them down to put in the wash. In the 
front room Gerry lay on the sofa, still fast asleep, 
whilst all around was the mess from the event last 
night. I went around cleaning and tidying, trying to 
keep the noise to a minimum, to avoid wakening Gerry. I 
don't know why I bothered, maybe it was a natural 
instinct, or maybe I just wasn't ready for the hassle.

But around ten in the morning, the house was looking 
somewhere near reasonable, but Gerry was still fast 
asleep, when I was suddenly shook rigid by a knock at 
the door. It didn't wake Gerry, and why I was so 
nervous, I don't know, but as I made my way down the 
hall, I could feel myself on the edge of peeing myself. 
Then as I slowly opened the door, there were two 
strangers standing there.

I breathed a sigh of relief, as I expected this must 
just be two salesmen, trying to flog some double 
glazing, or something similar. So as I put my polite 
smile on, I asked, "Ok, what are you selling?"

"Selling? We're not selling anything. Is this the right 
house, are you Mrs Mary Kendal?"

"Yes that's me."

"Well Mr Spencer told us to call. Mr. Graham Spencer."

Again the feeling of foreboding returned, "Yes, I know 
him. What have you come for?"

At this point I was racking my brain wondering if he'd 
inadvertently left something of his here; but knowing 
I'd already tidied all around the house, I couldn't 
think what.

"Can we come in? It isn't the kind of thing we want to 
talk about on the doorstep."

I wasn't too sure about letting them in, but as I had 
Gerry in the house, I decided it would be ok.

I backed away from the door and said, "Come on in, my 
husband is in the front room."

As they stepped inside, one of them took hold of my 
hand, turned it palm upwards, and slipped something 
into it, closing the fingers, "Graham told me to give 
you this; he said you might need it."

As they walked past me and down the hall, I could see 
he'd given me a little yellow pill. Then as they turned 
into the front room, I followed.

"Sit yourselves down. I'll just wake Gerry. He had a 
late night last night."

As they sat, I shook Gerry, and he gradually began to 
stir, "Oh god! My fucking neck."

Then as he opened his eyes and saw the two men seated 
across the room.

"What the? Who the fuck are you?"

I put my hand on his shoulder and tried to calm him 
down, "Gerry love, Mr Spencer has sent them."

"Mr Spencer. Oh shit. I'm sorry. What the fucks the 
time. Oh god I remember."

One of the men spoke up, "Looks like someone had a good 
night last night."

Gerry maybe took his meaning wrong, and he looked up at 
me, and with a scowl said, "What do you mean? He hasn't 
showed you that fucking video has he?"

The man looked quite surprised, "Video? No we haven't 
seen a video. I was just referring to the way you look. 
No offence, but it looks like you got yourself shit 
faced after watching the blues go down last night."

"Oh that fucking match. Well yes I did hit the old 
cans, but that isn't why I'm still sleeping."

At this point he stopped as if realising he was about 
to tell two perfect strangers about last nights event.

"But fuck that, what has he sent you here for?"

"According to Graham, we can both do each other a 
favour."

"Favour, what favour?"

"He says, you are feeling the pinch a bit. He says you 
narrowly missed out on a five grand windfall, and maybe 
you might consider an easy way of earning a grand."

The mention of money, caught Gerry's attention, "Go on, 
I'm listening."

"I know its way over the going rate, but Graham says 
it'll be worth it."

"What will be worth it?"

He then looked across to where I was still stood in the 
doorway. Gerry followed his eyes, and then as he said, 
"What you want to go with my wife?"

His voice had a sharp edge, like he was angry, and he 
even began to lift himself up to the edge of his seat. 
The man replied immediately, with more than a little 
fear in his tone, "Graham said you needed the money, 
and that you might consider it. But if I'm speaking out 
of turn, or if he's given me the wrong end of the 
stick. I don't mean any offence, we'll just go."

Both men rose to their feet, but before they started to 
walk to the door, Gerry said, "No, sorry. Sit back 
down. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"So you might consider it?"

Gerry looked at me. I didn't reply, but the look I gave 
him was intended to say, 'No way'. But to my surprise, 
Gerry said, "A thousand pounds in cash?"

"Well I was going to write you a check, but if its cash 
you want, we'll go and find a cash machine, and we'll 
be back in a few minutes."

"Err. Yes, you go and get the notes, while I talk to my 
wife."

They again rose to their feet, and I moved to one side 
as they walked past me on their way to the door. They 
both nodded their heads as they passed, and the first 
one said, "Bye my dear, see you in a minute."

The second added, "Bye. You're getting me hot just 
thinking about you."

With that they were gone and the door closed behind 
them.

Gerry quipped, "Well that's a turn-up."

I stared at him with the angriest glare I could muster, 
"You bastard. You fucking sent me to bed last night in 
tears, and now you're gonna try to talk me into whoring 
so you can buy that fucking car."

"Come on Mary. Don't be so fucking sensitive. Those men 
are offering to pay you a grand a piece. Two grand for 
what. Don't you try to tell me its work. I saw you last 
night. If you want to see work, come with me and do a 
day in that warehouse. All you've got to do is lay back 
and let them do all the action. That's if you can. If 
last nights anything to go by, you'll do the work for 
them, and be glad to do it."

I was angry, but also sad, and now sobbing, "You are a 
bastard. You know I couldn't help any of that stuff."

"I never said you could. And I never said I minded. But 
you can't say it was something you dislike doing. So if 
we can get two grand and keep Mr Spencer happy into the 
bargain, we'd be silly to turn them down."

He put his arm on my shoulder, "Come on. It won't be 
all that bad. They're friends of Mr Spencer, so they 
must be ok. And I'll be here; I won't let anything bad 
happen to you."

I thought, 'he's gonna let me be fucked by two 
strangers, and he has the gall to say he won't let 
anything bad happen to me'. But I knew this was as 
inevitable as night following day, and I somehow just 
resigned myself to my fate.

"Go on, nip upstairs and get dressed up a bit, you 
don't exactly look the part in those old jeans."

So as I walked up to my room, I thought, 'not only does 
he want me to be a whore for him, but now he's telling 
me I don't look tarty enough!' But I still followed 
instructions, and looked out some sexy looking 
underwear, and then put on the black dress I'd 
mentioned I'd worn at the wedding. (I at this point 
remembered I'd left my red dress in the club dressing 
room).

I also remembered the little yellow pill, and I 
thought, 'well if I've got to do this, I'm entitled to 
some kind of help'. So off to the bathroom, and with a 
glass of water, down went the pill. Then back to my 
bedroom, to do my final checks. It was while I was 
completing them that I heard the front door, "KNOCK 
KNOCK."

As I began my descent of the stairs, Gerry was ushering 
the two men into the hall, they both stopped and looked 
up towards me, one man said,

"You might as well turn around my dear, we'll come 
straight up."

I looked down to Gerry, and he nodded as if to approve 
this instruction, and then he said to the men, "You two 
can come into the front room and settle-up first."

I didn't hear what was said or see what took place, but 
Gerry told me later.

The men had walked into the room followed by Gerry, and 
Gerry had spoken first, "Ok, have you got the money?"

One of the men replied as he handed over a wad of 
notes, "One thousand pounds; in fresh new twenties."

Gerry took hold, and as he counted the twenty-pound 
notes, putting them into hundred pound piles, he did so 
out aloud, "One Hundred. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. 
Seven. Eight. Hey hang on a minute, you said two 
grand."

"No I didn't. I said one."

"So only one of you is going upstairs?"

"No. We offered a grand to go with your wife. That's 
five hundred a piece."

"But I thought you meant a grand each."

"You've got to be joking. Five hundred is way above the 
going rate. So she'd better be good."

"But you can't both go up there together."

"Why not? We want to try a double penetration."

"Oh Jesus. You don't mean both of you at once?"

"That's how it's normally done."

"You can't do that."

"So you've sent me out to withdraw this money, and now 
you're saying you won't let her fuck?"

"You didn't mention anything kinky."

"Kinky? What planet are you from. All we want is a 
straight forward double fuck, that's not anything out 
of the normal."

"It would be for my wife."

"That's not what Mr Spencer said. He said she goes 
bananas when she takes it up the arse."

"He didn't. He wouldn't say things like that. She's 
never done anything of that kind."

"Look are we gonna get to fuck her or not?"

"Not both at once you're not."

"Ok, if we go up one at a time?"

"Well ok. But I was expecting a grand each."

"Don't be silly. If we're only going to have a single 
fuck, I'm not paying more than two hundred."

"No way. If you pay the grand for both of you, then 
I'll say yes."

"Only if we both go up together."

"If I let you both go up together, then I'll have to go 
up with you, and there won't be any of that double 
fucking."

"Ok my last offer, a kind of double or quits. You're 
convinced she won't double fuck without a struggle?"

"I know she won't. But what do you mean double or 
quits?"

"Its like this, we'll all go up together now, and just 
see how things go. You don't say a word or give her any 
signs. And if she says anything about not wanting both 
of us at the same time, then one of us will sit it out 
and wait until the first one has finished. And when we 
come down, we'll pay you double what we were going to 
pay. In other words, you'll get two grand."

"What? You're saying even if you only get to do it one 
at a time, you'll pay the full amount?"

"No. The full amount is only a grand. But I'll give you 
two."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. If you're sure she doesn't like having two 
men at once, then you win all round. But if on the 
other hand, she lets both of us get cosy with her, and 
then doesn't kick-up a fuss when we both get on the bed 
together with her; well then you have to sit there 
quietly and watch her take a double fucking."

"Hey hang on, just because she lets both of you on the 
bed doesn't mean she'll be expecting you to do 
something like that."

"Maybe I didn't explain myself properly. If she says no 
at any point, we'll stop."

"You sure?"

"Look, we are just following information we've been 
given. If you know your wife as well as you think you 
do; you've made two grand for something we could have 
got elsewhere for two hundred."

"So it's up to her?"

"Yes, but not if you tell her. You just come up with 
us, and say you've negotiated the deal."

"And if she does let you both do it to her, then how 
much do you pay?"

"Well I thought you were pretty confident that wouldn't 
happen?"

"I am. But you wouldn't be offering to pay double 
unless you thought you had a chance. So how much if she 
does?"

"By rights it should be zero, it is after all, double 
or quits."

"Hey hang on..."

"No, I'm not suggesting we get her for nothing. But to 
make the gamble fair, we'll give you two-hundred."

"No way."

"So you're not feeling that sure about her?"

"It's not that. But if I'm wrong, and she lets both of 
you do that, and then she only gets two hundred quid; 
she'd kill me."

"That's easy; just chuck it all back in her face. If 
she fucks us both, tell her she's a slut, and it's her 
own fault she lost the two grand."

"I don't know, it seems a bit risky."

The second of the two men then got to his feet and 
pulled out an envelope from his inside pocket, "Two 
tickets for the next round of the cup final. I'll throw 
them in which ever way it goes."

"What tickets are they?"

"They're a pair of complimentary ones I was given. 
They're for the director's box."

"Shit there worth a bomb."

"Well they would have been worth more to me if the 
blues hadn't dropped out the other night. But, yes I 
guess I could still sell them on for a good price."

The first man again took up the negotiations, "Well? 
Have we got a deal?"

"Ok I'll go with that."

The man handed over the money once again, and then 
said, "Ok, that's still one grand. So if she lets us 
double fuck her, I want eight-hundred back. But if 
you're right, and she doesn't go for it, I'll give you 
this."

At that point he pulled out another wad of notes.

"But if you open your mouth and try to put her off 
taking it up the arse, I'll want the whole lot back."

So without answering, Gerry led them up to my bedroom.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, wondering why 
they were taking so long; but eventually I heard the 
footsteps on the stairs. As I saw the door opening I 
got to my feet. As they all trouped in I asked Gerry, 
"Is everything alright?"

Gerry replied hesitantly, "Yes, we've sorted out the 
money."

As the second man closed the bedroom door, both of the 
men approached me as I stood beside the bed. Gerry had 
walked across and was just sitting himself down on the 
stool in front of my dressing table. Now I know you 
will think this next line is just an excuse from an 
oversexed slut, but I offer it as mitigation against my 
behaviour. I might not have wanted Gerry to agree to 
their offer, but being as Gerry had been the one to 
persuade me he wanted me to have sex with these men. 
And being as I'd taken the little yellow pill, and 
since then been waiting nearly half-an-hour, knowing I 
was about to have sex with two complete strangers. Well 
my arousal had been building with the anticipation, and 
was almost about to blow. And now as Gerry had brought 
both men into the bedroom with him, I never even 
considered he would be expecting me to object to both 
men being with me at the same time.

So I immediately knelt in front of them and proceeded 
to loosen their belts and lower their trousers. They in 
turn both began to strip their own upper bodies. Once 
I'd uncovered their cocks, I just started to fondle and 
caress from one to the other, using both hands and my 
mouth. They wasted no time in starting to remove my 
dress, and bra, and then began to fondle my breast. The 
reaction in my body to their fondling was instant, and 
not something I could have hidden, even if I'd wanted 
to. But as I didn't even think Gerry might want to see 
reluctance, I just let the sighs flow audibly from my 
lips, as I encouraged both of the men to lift me up 
onto the bed behind me.

As they lay me back down I lifted my hips and between 
them they slid my panties from my legs. One man's head 
was instantly burying itself into my crotch, and I 
lifted my legs wide to give him access. The other man 
was on the bed, legs astride my torso, and as he held 
my breasts together, he slid his cock in and out of the 
valley between them. The man on my pussy had only been 
working it for a few minutes before I had my first 
gushing orgasm, not brought about by penetration. It 
didn't last as long as the epic displays I'd had during 
the last few day's sex sessions, and I was still 
conscious of my actions. But although conscious of my 
heaving groin, and gushing vagina; I again would not 
have been able to stop it even if I'd thought it 
necessary.

As I heaved and gyrated my hips, I vocalised my obvious 
state of oblivion, whilst the man who'd worked my pussy 
to this state with his mouth, now manoeuvred himself in 
between my wide open legs as he positioned his cock at 
the entrance to my pussy. As my orgasm subsided, and my 
hips began to come to rest, he pushed his cock 
forwards, and my pussy engulfed his shaft. Just this 
mere touch of his cock at my willing hole had brought 
back to life the humping motions of my hips. He 
launched himself on top of my body, kissing my breasts, 
enhancing the feeling his cock was generating in my 
tummy. 

He fucked hard for only a minute or so before 
withdrawing his cock, and re-positioning himself on my 
right hand side on the bed alongside me. At which point 
he lifted my right leg and re-entered my pussy from his 
sideways position. I had not been aware of what the 
second man had been doing since my orgasm, until now 
that is, when he took-up the mirror image position on 
the bed at my left side. And while man number one 
thrust hardily at my pussy, man number two devoured my 
breasts with his mouth. Then the cock once again 
slipped from my pussy, but this time with a little 
assistance from his hand, man number one began to slide 
it along the crevice of my bottom, and nudge it at my 
hole.

It only took a few exploratory pushes before his bell-
end, lubricated by the juices produced from my previous 
orgasm, popped its head into my anal passage. My body 
was well aflame with the stimulations of my breasts, 
and in just a few pushes, the cock was exploring deep 
into my bottom. Then between them, both men began to 
manoeuvre me over onto my side, so that my back was to 
man number one, and he was now able to bury his cock 
into my bottom to its full depth. No sooner had he 
achieved this goal, before both men again re-positioned 
me, man one turning onto his back, with me on my back 
on top of him. His cock was, of course, still thrusting 
deep up inside my bottom. 

Man two re-commenced fondling my breasts, but now he 
was moving from my side, to a position in between my 
open legs. It was then I felt his cock as it pushed at 
my pussy. Call me stupid, but up until now I'd never 
even considered the thought of two men fucking me at 
the same time. Oh, I know Graham and Peter had been 
with me at the same time, and one had been fucking my 
throat whilst I was being fucked. But I hadn't thought 
of the throat fucking as real fucking; just as some 
kind of fore-play. But as man number two pushed, his 
cock slid up, and now I had two cocks pulling and 
pushing and generating such a feeling it was again a 
new height for my emotions.

They didn't continue for long in this position, and 
after only a couple of minutes, both cocks had slipped 
out and I was being guided to a new arrangement. This 
time I was astride man number one who was still on his 
back on the bed, and man number two was kneeling up 
behind me, and as he entered my bottom and doggy fucked 
it, man number one just kept up the slow steady 
shafting of my pussy. This new position meant I could 
drive myself down hard onto man number one, as man 
number two didn't need any encouragement to drive 
himself hard into my bottom.

The excesses of sensations being generated meant I knew 
I wouldn't be able to hold back the ensuing surge of 
juices building in my pussy, and I just hoped that both 
of these men would be reaching their climaxes soon. I 
had hardly had time to process that thought, and not 
even had time to worry about it, before the man in my 
bottom began to ram me in such a violent manner. There 
hadn't been any sign I'd picked-up to indicate he was 
at that point, but the warm feeling in my anal passage 
assured me this was definitely his cum strokes. And as 
the cum splattered deep up inside me, it was as if it 
was petrol being thrown onto a smouldering fire.

My pussy spasmed instantly; gripping the cock entering 
it from below in mid-stroke. And then as my body began 
to jerk in its innate manner, my sense of bodily 
consciousness left me. I know by my Gerry's later 
description, I bucked and heaved like a sex crazy slut. 
And I milked both men dry, and even carried on 
squirming around on the bed, legs wide open and pussy 
oozing out gunge. (Well that was my Gerry's 
description). He said both men watched until I'd 
stopped squirming, and then they both took it in turns 
to use the shower. By the time I'd arrived down stairs, 
they were both gone.

As I walked in the room Gerry was sat there, head down, 
drinking a can of beer.

I could feel the tension in the air, and so I asked, 
"Are you alright?"

His reply was a mumble or grunt, but it sounded like, 
"Fucking slut!"

"You what? What did you say?"

He lifted his head and as he faced me, "I said, you 
fucking slut!"

I burst into tears, and as I turned to leave the room 
shouted back, "You fucking BASTARD!"

So some time later, maybe half an hour or so, I'm still 
lying face down on my bed sobbing, when I hear Gerry's 
voice as he stood in the doorway to my bedroom,

"Come-on Mary. You know I didn't mean it."

I lay there trying to totally ignore him. I could sense 
he was moving closer to the bed, "Please babe. I'm 
sorry. I was angry, and I just lashed out without 
thinking."

He moved in closer still and I felt his hand resting on 
my back. He slowly moved it around in a gentle manner 
as he'd done many times in the past; stroking my 
shoulders, I guess he thought relieving the tension. 
This was nearly always his approach when he wanted to 
say sorry after we'd had some kind of fight.

I lay there for maybe fifteen minutes as he sat on the 
edge of the bed; and whilst his hand attempted to soak 
away my stress, he would occasionally speak soft words 
of apology to try to explain away his stupid behaviour. 
I have to admit; I was on the point of talking to him, 
even if only to give him a mouthful of abuse. But 
before I'd opened my mouth, there was a sound from 
downstairs,

"KNOCK, KNOCK. KNOCK, KNOCK."

It was someone at our front door, and as I felt Gerry 
getting to his feet he said, "I'll go and see who it 
is."

I turned on my side and in an angry voice snapped, "I 
don't care who it is, tell them to clear off!"

I think it is again time to make an intermission here. 
And as always, I will wait for any emails to see if you 
the reader would like to know what happens next. Thanks 
for reading, and please feel free to email me at 
Lord_John_Thomas@hotmail.com 

It is only the feedback from readers that make the 
effort of writing worthwhile, and I will answer all 
mail received (eventually). To ensure I accept your 
mail, make sure your mail has 'Story Feedback' as a 
subject, all other mail to this account is deleted as 
spam.

Continued in part 3...

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 55