by Penny Birch
She was groaning as his cock was forced slowly up into her rectum, bit by bit, until it was right up and all we could see was her bottom, sweetly curved beneath his great, pasty gut. Her mouth was wide, gasping for air as he began to bugger her, moving in her anus with his eyes fixed on the TV, watching the unfortunate blonde girl who was now standing in the corner, her panties around her thighs, her hot bottom presented to the room.
‘Fucking nice,’ Monty groaned. ‘Go on, lick her cunt, Gabby.’
‘Please,’ Natasha moaned. ‘Please, Gabrielle.’
I could hardly refuse, and got down underneath them to find Monty’s hard balls pushing up against Natasha’s sex and his cock jammed to the hilt in her anus. Her ring was pulling in and out as he buggered her, straining around his fat shaft, the same way mine had strained as I lost my anal virginity to him. I lifted my head to kiss her pussy, his balls pressing to my face as he pushed himself up her bottom.
He was really getting quite urgent as I started to lick Natasha, making it hard to do my job properly. I tried anyway, lapping at her clitoris and holding on to her open thighs, with my face pressed to the soft, furry mound of her sex.
‘Watch this,’ Monty grated from above us, ‘this is good, where the uncle greases up the girl’s bumhole and fingers her up it, just watch.’
Natasha gave a broken sob in response. I could understand her feelings, utter humiliation, as she was being buggered and the man up her bottom got off on a completely different girl, and a video at that. It was typical Monty, though, and as I heard the squashy sound of the girl’s bottom-hole being lubricated and a fresh sob, he suddenly stiffened.
‘Yeah, in her mouth!’ he grunted. ‘Oh, fuck, that’s good!’
He jammed himself into Natasha to the hilt, squashing his balls in my face. I was trying to lick, but she hadn’t come and was sobbing with reaction as he pulled slowly back, his slimy erection pulling from her hole to fall against my cheek.
‘Suck on this,’ he ordered, and before I could speak I had been taken by the hair and his cock stuffed in my mouth, fresh from Natasha’s bottom-hole. She was dribbling come too on to my face as Monty pushed his cock down, deep in my mouth, filling my senses with the taste of his come and Natasha’s bottom.
He made me suck him clean but pulled out in the end to leave me gasping, my mouth wide, with sperm and Natasha’s juices smeared over my face. She was moaning, though, and pushing her bottom down, to squat on my face. I gave in, licking at her as she started to rub herself on me, my tongue in her pussy, then on her bottom-hole as she moved. I heard Poppy’s little gasp of shock as she watched me lick up the sperm as it oozed from Natasha’s anus, or I thought it was shock, until I felt her come down on me, and her face pressed in beside mine. Her tongue came out, lapping at the filthy mess, until it was running out over her lips.
We kissed, sharing the mess of sperm, juice and saliva, only to have Natasha grind her bottom into our faces, demanding attention. She got it, Poppy’s tongue up her bottom, mine on her clitoris, as we licked her, our mouths full of male come and pussy juice, lapping frantically at her underside, our faces smeared in it, her bottom wiggling frantically against us.
I heard her moan and she was coming, crying out in raw ecstasy as we burrowed our tongues into her body, filthy and uninhibited, completely lost in the pleasure of her sex. All I could do was lick, letting her come in my face, over and over, until at last her contractions subsided and stopped and I felt it was fair to pull away. Poppy did so too, grinning down at me as she rocked back on her haunches, her face sticky with come. So was mine, and we shared an extremely slimy kiss when I had managed to sit up.
‘Dirty bitches,’ Monty commented as we broke apart. ‘You two going to do it?’
I gave Poppy a glance. She smiled and shrugged, her hands going straight to her blouse.
‘Nice tits,’ Monty said as Poppy’s blouse came open. ‘Do you fuck then, with guys?’
‘Sometimes,’ Poppy admitted, ‘when I’m told to.’
Monty swallowed hard, his eyes glued to her. The video had finished, and we had his sole attention as we undressed, stripping nude on the floor. Even Natasha was watching, having managed to roll off the table and prop herself against a chair.
I was about to give a floor show to Monty with my new girlfriend, and I could feel a slight sense of having been abused as Poppy folded me in her arms. No one else seemed to care, and as she began to kiss me I gave up any thought of holding back. We went down together, cuddling and groping on the floor, at first as much for Monty’s benefit as our own, then with greater enthusiasm as we began to get carried away.
Poppy was full of passion, kissing and stroking and licking without the slightest inhibition. I responded, my pleasure growing, but always with the slight sense of regret in the back of my mind. Monty was wanking as he watched, and I was performing for him and showing off my girlfriend, both naked, our every intimate secret on view. He had spanked me again and again, come in my face repeatedly, buggered me, and here I was, showing off for him – and, worse, showing off my girlfriend. We’d ruined his panty collection, maybe, but it was a fraction of what he deserved.
I was going to come anyway, abused or not, with Poppy on top of me, her pussy in my face and hers in mine. With her glorious bottom in front of me and her tongue on my clitoris, it was simply too much, and with a last stab of regret I let myself go, crying out my ecstasy an instant before she too came, full in my face. We pulled apart slowly, to collapse back on the floor. Monty was red-faced, his cock half-stiff, the skin oily and damp, a piece of pizza in his free hand.
‘Fuck!’ he swore. ‘I was getting there. How about a lap dance? You know, with your arse right in my face.’
For a moment I looked at him, incredulous. I could just see it, me gyrating in front of him, making myself his sex toy, as always, and with him wanking one-handed and eating pizza with the other.
‘Give me a minute,’ I answered him.
‘Nice,’ he said, and relaxed, still stroking his cock, but with most of his attention on eating.
I took a slice of pizza and one of the cans of cheap bitter beer he’d bought for us. Monty carried on masturbating as I ate, his eyes moving constantly, to Natasha’s body, to Poppy’s, to mine, and back. Poppy had curled up on a chair, her legs up, her pussy peeping out from between her thighs, either indifferent to him or enjoying making a show of herself. Natasha was even less concerned, sitting with her back to the chair and her legs up, everything on full show as she tried to pick at her plaster corset.
‘How they’d do that thing, Tasha?’ Monty asked.
‘You will find out when you help her to get it off,’ I answered quickly. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yeah, if you are.’
‘I am.’
I swallowed the last of my beer, trying to ignore the horrible metallic taste as it went down my throat. It was liquid, which was what mattered. Monty turned his attention to me as I stood, his piggy eyes moving up my body as I came to stand in front of him. He reached out, to push a button on his stereo. Music blared out, a heavy rock tune, impossibly fast. He thought about it for a moment, then turned it off.
‘Plenty of arse,’ he instructed, ‘that’s the sexiest thing about you, your arse.’
I nodded and began to dance, slowly, moving my hips to an imaginary beat and sliding my fingers slowly up my body, to caress my belly, then my breasts. He began to wank faster, his eyes fixed on me, never wavering as he reached out for a fresh slice of pizza. I turned, presenting him with my bottom, wiggling as I bent, to show him the rear view of my pussy and my bottom-hole. Bracing my hands on my knees, I began to sway, my bare bottom pushed out, just inches from his cock. I reached back to spread my cheeks, stretching my anus in blatant display, the way he liked me to.
‘Nice,’ he said. ‘You’re better than the girls down the Midnight, you know. They never spread their arseholes like that. You ought to do it pro, Gabby.’
‘They don’t touch,
either, I expect,’ I said, and wiggled my bottom down into his lap, rubbing myself against his cock.’
‘Fuck me!’ he grunted. ‘That is good. Sit on my cock, yeah, maybe I can get it up your arse.’
‘Not tonight,’ I answered, ‘just the dance, from me. You can bugger Natasha again later if you need to.’
He laughed. I turned again, wriggling down in front of him, my breasts in my hands. I wanted to take my time, to tease him, until his cock was fully hard and until I was ready. He was stiffening, and it wasn’t going to be too long in any case. So I began to move faster and to make my moves more sensuous, and sexier, stroking my nipples until they were hard, pushing my naked breasts into his face so that he could suck on them, fingering my pussy to let him taste my juice, and again and again bending to give him long, lingering views of my bottom-hole.
By the time I was ready he was rock hard, his erection a solid bar of meat in his hand, his face red and sweating. He’d come right forward in the chair to let me grind my bottom into his lap, rubbing on his cock and moving away only when he had actually pushed the head into my wet hole.
‘Come on, Gabby,’ he whined. ‘At least let me fuck you; you’re sopping!’
‘I know,’ I answered, turning again to straddle his legs, my pussy directly over his cock. ‘Go on, pop it in then.’
He pushed his cock down, brushing my clitoris before the head found my vagina and pushed inside. I squirmed down on to his lap, filling myself, and wiggling my bottom on his balls, before rising, to move back.
‘You fucking little prick-tease!’ he panted. ‘Come on, Gabby, up your arse, you know you want it.’
I nodded blearily.
‘OK,’ I said, ‘you win. I will squat on you. Just put it in my pussy first, and let me open myself slowly, yes?’
‘Anything you like, you little fuck-dolly,’ he answered.
He was grinning and holding his cock up like a pole, ready for me to lower myself on to him, taking the full, fat bulk of his erection up my bottom. I came close, still dancing, to climb up on to the chair, my feet pushing in at either side of his great thighs. I was ready, and as he looked up, his eyes fixed to my sex, I let go, my pee exploding out over him, full in his face.
Poppy burst out laughing as Monty yelled out in shock, throwing up his arms, but too late. He’d been about to take a mouthful of pizza, and my stream had gone right in his mouth, choking him, to leave him coughing and spluttering helplessly as my urine splashed over him, in his face and hair, down his front, over his straining erection and his trousers, the chair, the carpet, and splashing to all sides to wet his stereo, the pizza he’d been eating and even the wall.
I couldn’t stop laughing as I pissed on him. It was so funny, just watching him flail his arms wildly in a vain effort to protect himself and only make a bigger mess. I didn’t care. I was nude; my clothes were well out of the way, and it wasn’t my flat.
‘Bitch!’ he finally managed, spitting out a mouthful of pee and pizza dough. ‘Fucking hell, Gabby!’
‘That’s one to remember me by,’ I said cheerfully, and jumped down. ‘Come on, Poppy, time to go.’
‘Hey, hang on…’ Monty started.
‘Tut, tut, no whining,’ I told him. ‘You’ve got Natasha for the weekend, and you did deserve that. So have fun tidying up, and no tantrums, because I still have to write that report, remember? Good boy.’
He’d sunk back in his chair, a whole range of emotions working over his face as the pee dripped slowly down it. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it. So Poppy and I cleaned ourselves up, dressed and went, leaving Monty frantically trying to sponge down his chair while Natasha sat and laughed at him. I knew she’d end up having it taken out on her bottom – but so did she and, when it came down to it, she took only what she wanted to.
Outside, we were laughing so hard we had to cling on to each other for support. Not wishing to be too mean to Natasha, we left the car at Monty’s and took the train back. We were in thoroughly high spirits and cuddling a lot, which drew a fair number of odd looks from the sort of people who still can’t handle the thought of two women together. At Victoria Station we bought some smoked salmon bagels, and walked back eating them, hand in hand. I was already imagining the session of nursing I undoubtedly had coming, and was eager to get in to the flat. Unfortunately there was somebody waiting by my door – Jo Warren.
‘Hi, Gabrielle,’ she greeted me, nodding to Poppy. ‘Sorry to come over like this, but I am so stressed out. I need to try your Practical Regression Therapy.’