by Ray Gordon
‘I’ve known her for a year or so. We met in a pub and . . . we’ve had some wonderful times together, sexy times. The trouble with Ali is that she flits about from here to there. I never know where she is or when I’ll see her again.’
‘I’ve heard that from other people. So, is she living nearby? In Harvey Road, for example?’
‘How do you know about Harvey Road?’
‘I’ve been doing my homework, trying to find out where she lives.’
‘She doesn’t live in Harvey Road – she has a friend there. She doesn’t have her own place at the moment. She was thinking about moving to Birmingham, but I don’t think she knows what she wants.’
‘Is she a . . . I don’t know how to put this. Does she work for herself?’
‘She’s on the game, if that’s what you mean?’
‘Yes, that is what I meant.’
‘Although I’ve known her for a year or more, I don’t really know anything about her. I’ve never met her mother, I don’t know many of her friends . . . Actually, she doesn’t go in for friends. She has one or two, but that’s about all. She’s a mysterious girl.’
‘Perhaps I should just forget about her,’ I sighed.
‘Yes, that might be a good idea,’ Amy said softly, placing her hand on my naked knee.
I began to tremble as Amy slipped her hand between my thighs. I wanted to stop her but my heart raced and my stomach somersaulted at the prospect of enjoying her young body. The fragrance of her perfume, the feel of her fingertips pressing into the swell of my knickers . . . I had no power to resist her advances as she massaged my fleshy pussy lips through the tight material of my knickers. No one could see what she was doing beneath the table, so I parted my thighs and gave her better access to the most private part of my young body.
Pulling the wet crotch of my knickers to one side, Amy slipped two fingers deep into the heat of my tight pussy and massaged my creamy-wet inner flesh. I gasped, my gaze darting around the bar as my clitoris swelled and my juices of lesbian desire flowed over her hand. Using her thumb, Amy massaged the solid bulb of my sensitive clitoris, taking me dangerously close to my desperately needed climax. I couldn’t come in the bar, I thought anxiously. People were around – someone might see me and –
‘No,’ I whispered. ‘No, Amy, not in here.’
‘Why not?’ she asked me, kissing my cheek.
‘Because . . .’
‘Just relax and let it come.’
I couldn’t relax, but I knew that I was going to come anyway. I thought about Jackie as my orgasm neared. She’d be waiting in the flat for me, looking forward to going to bed and loving me and . . . I tried to feel guilty, but I couldn’t. I breathed in Amy’s perfume again and my womb fluttered. Her hair was blonde and shone like silk, her lips were full and succulent, her probing fingers were soft and feminine . . . My orgasm exploded within the pulsating bud of my clitoris as I hung my head and stifled my whimpers of ecstasy.
‘Come,’ Amy whispered in my ear. ‘Keep coming for me.’
‘Don’t stop,’ I gasped, my young body trembling uncontrollably.
She didn’t stop, and my orgasm rolled on and on. My flushed face veiled by my long blonde hair, my breathing fast and shallow, I gripped the sides of my chair as my pleasure peaked again and shook me to the core. I could feel the wetness of my knickers against my skin, and I knew that the back of my skirt was soaking up my lesbian milk. What would Jackie say? I’d have to change my skirt and knickers. Would she be suspicious? Although we shared our bodies with men, I’d never cheated on her like this. I’d fucked Simon, but that was different. Now I was with another girl, a self-confessed lesbian, and I was cheating on Jackie.
I wanted Amy to feel my firm breasts and toy with my erect nipples, I wanted to reciprocate and slide my fingers into her young vagina and take her to an amazing orgasm. But there were other people in the bar. People were drinking and chatting, totally unaware that I was in the grip of a lesbian-induced orgasm. I wanted to take Amy to my bed and love her.
‘Stop now,’ I whispered as my orgasm began to fade. ‘Amy, please . . .’
She slipped her wet fingers out of my sated vagina, pulled my knickers across and concealed the swollen lips of my dripping pussy. ‘Was that nice?’ she asked me.
‘God, yes,’ I breathed softly. ‘That was heavenly.’
‘I’m pleased that you’re bald down there,’ Amy said, her dark eyes sparkling lustfully. ‘I love licking and eating bald pussy.’
Her words excited me and I looked down at her naked thighs, resting my hand on her leg as she sucked my pussy milk from her fingers. She parted her thighs, offering me access to the sexual centre of her young body. My fingers pressed into the warmth of her knickers and I pulled the crotch to one side and slid my fingers into her young vagina. She was so tight, hot and wet, and I knew that I’d be seeing her again. A little guilt seeped into my mind as I massaged her erect clitoris with my thumb and I realised that I wasn’t in love with Jackie. We were business partners, flatmates, sex partners. We weren’t lovers.
Amy came quickly, her clitoris pulsating beneath my thumb and her sex milk flowing over my fingers as I sustained her lesbian pleasure. I wanted to squeeze the firmness of her pert young breasts and suck on her milk teats, but . . .
When I noticed the barman looking our way I massaged Amy’s clitoris more slowly, bringing out the last of her pleasure as she stifled her gasps of lesbian pleasure. I’d have to arrange to meet her somewhere, I decided, finally retrieving my pussy-wet fingers and sitting upright.
‘You’re beautiful,’ Amy whispered, adjusting her skirt and brushing her long blonde hair away from her sex-flushed face. ‘I want you, Ali. I want all of you.’
‘I know,’ I murmured. ‘And . . . and I want you.’
‘Come back to my place with me.’
‘No, I . . . I can’t,’ I stammered. I took a pen and paper from my bag and wrote down my phone number. ‘Ring me,’ I said, passing her the piece of paper. ‘Ring me tomorrow and . . . and we’ll meet.’
‘You know what I want to do to you, don’t you?’ Amy asked quietly. ‘I want to suck out your pussy juice. I want to suck your clitoris into my mouth and –’
‘Amy, stop it,’ I cut in, giggling as she licked her full lips and grinned at me. ‘My knickers are soaking wet as it is.’
‘Take them off,’ she whispered. ‘I want to taste them.’
‘Tomorrow,’ I said firmly. ‘I must go now.’
‘Go home to your girlfriend?’
‘Yes, no, I mean . . . We share a flat but . . .’
‘It’s all right – you don’t have to explain.’
I finished my drink and stood up. ‘Tomorrow, OK?’
‘I’ll dream of you tonight,’ Amy said.
‘Ring me tomorrow, Amy.’
‘I’ll dream about licking you and drinking your pussy juices and –’
‘Tomorrow,’ I repeated.
I left the bar, breathed in the warm evening air and headed home. My knickers were soaked and I could feel my vaginal milk running down my inner thighs. I’d go straight to the bathroom and wash away the evidence of lesbian sex, I decided as I reached the flat. I’d go to bed with Jackie and we’d have sex, and I’d imagine that it was Amy licking me. I was making a mess of my life, I knew as I rang the doorbell. I was losing my direction in life yet again.
Ten
JACKIE HAD BEEN quiet when I’d got back to the flat the previous evening. I’d told her what Amy had said about the other Ali, but she didn’t seem interested. Whether or not she’d been suspicious, had thought that Amy and I had got up to something, I wasn’t sure. She’d said that she was tired and, much to my disappointment, we’d slept in our own rooms.
Although I was up early, Jackie was already in the kitchen making breakfast. She poured me a cup of coffee and seemed all right, but I felt that there was something wrong. I didn’t like mind games and decided not to ask her what the problem was. If
something was bothering her then she’d have to tell me about it.
‘Breakfast smells good,’ I said, sitting at the table. ‘Eggs and bacon – my favourite.’
‘And fried bread and grilled tomatoes and mushrooms,’ she said. ‘I hope you’re hungry?’
‘Starved,’ I replied. ‘So, what shall we do today?’
‘You’re the boss, so you tell me.’
‘We need money to pay the rent,’ I sighed.
‘We might have had Jack, that man in the pub, as a client. But you’re the boss.’
‘As I said last night, Jackie: we’re sluts, but we’re not cheap sluts.’
‘And, as you said just now, we need money to pay the rent.’
Jackie chatted as we enjoyed out breakfast, but I still felt that something was wrong. I helped her to clear the kitchen and do the washing-up and then we sat in the lounge and talked about the business. I was hoping that John and his friends would need our services before Mick came round to collect the rent. I also wondered whether Simon would phone and ask me to meet him in the woods. One thing was certain: if we were going to survive, we’d need more clients. As I seemed to be doing all the talking, I finally asked Jackie what the problem was.
‘Last night,’ she began. ‘I . . . I was followed home.’
‘Who followed you?’ I asked her. ‘A man or . . .’
‘Your twin sister,’ she told me. ‘I thought it was you at first. She looked identical to you, but she had different clothes on.’
‘So she knows now that you live here?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I’m sorry, Ali. I should have made sure that –’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I cut in. ‘Why didn’t you tell me last night?’
‘I thought you’d go mad. You’d been saying that we have to be careful about being followed and . . . well, I thought you’d go mad.’
‘I think the other Ali might want to meet me at some stage. So is that why you were quiet last night?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘You are silly, Jackie. To be honest, I’m not worried about my sister any more. If she discovers that I live here, then so what? There’s not much she can do about it, is there?’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘From what Amy told me, my sister might be moving to Birmingham. The only thing that’s bothered me is people mixing us up. If she moves away –’ My mobile rang. Answering it, I was surprised to hear Jack. ‘Good morning,’ I said, winking at Jackie.
‘I’ve been thinking about your proposition,’ Jack said. ‘I’ve decided to go for it.’
‘A wise decision,’ I replied. ‘You won’t be disappointed, I can assure you.’
‘So, are you both free this morning?’
‘As it happens, we’ve just had a cancellation.’
‘That’s great. Would you meet me in the church?’
‘The church?’ I echoed, thinking that I must have misheard him.
‘The church in Green Lane. I’m the vicar there.’
‘Oh, er . . . yes, of course. What time?’
‘Now, if that’s OK with you? I have the cash with me – two hundred pounds.’
‘We’ll leave straight away, Jack.’
‘Good. Oh, er . . . I’ll want anal sex.’
‘No problem. Like I said, two hundred gets you anal.’
‘OK – I’ll see you soon.’ Jack rang off.
I grinned at Jackie. ‘We’re in business,’ I said. ‘Two hundred, in cash.’
‘I was wrong, then?’ she asked.
‘You certainly were. OK, let’s go. We have to meet him at the church. He’s a vicar.’
‘A vicar?’ she gasped, holding her hand to her pretty mouth.
‘Vicars have cocks, Jackie,’ I replied, giggling.
‘I know but . . . I mean, he’s supposed to be a man of God.’
‘Perhaps God told him to fuck prostitutes. Come on, we have work to do.’
‘God’s work?’
‘The work of the Devil, more like. That’s a thought. We could call ourselves the Devil’s Daughters.’
* * *
I felt my heart leap as Jackie and I left the flat. Two hundred pounds, I mused happily. The first month’s rent was covered, which was a relief, and we had another month before the rent was due again. Things were going to work out well, I thought as we reached the church. If the vicar could afford to see us once a week, his money alone would cover the rent and the food. I wasn’t bothered about my slut sister. My only problem was Amy. She was beautiful, and I wanted her. But I already had Jackie.
‘Hi,’ the vicar said as he ushered us into the church and locked the doors. He passed me a wad of notes and grinned. ‘I’d like you to bend over the altar,’ he said, adjusting his cock through his cassock. ‘Both of you, with your feet wide apart.’
OK,’ I replied as I stuffed the cash into my handbag. ‘We’re all yours for the next half-hour.’
‘I must repent,’ Jack sighed. ‘I’m a sinner and . . . I have to offer your bodies to God by way of a sacrifice.’
Jackie and I looked at each other and tried not to giggle as we walked down the aisle. As I leaned over the altar I breathed in the musky smell of the church. The air in the old building was cold, and I shuddered as I wondered whether ghosts were lurking. I’d gone to church regularly when I was younger, but I’d never dreamed that one day I’d be leaning over the altar with a vicar behind me and . . . A sacrifice? I wondered what that might mean as I gazed at the huge candles adorning the altar. What did he intend to do to us?
We were both wearing miniskirts, and I pictured the view that the vicar must have had as he knelt behind us. He lifted my skirt up and pressed his face into the groove between my firm buttocks. He breathed in. Then he moved to Jackie and inhaled the scent of her young bottom through the thin material of her tight knickers. Were all vicars like this? I wondered. Were they all sad perverts? It didn’t matter what the vicar was, I decided. He’d paid two hundred pounds for the pleasure of our teenage bodies, so as far as I was concerned he could play his sacrifice games and satisfy his lust for young girls.
After yanking my knickers down and exposing the firm cheeks of my bum, Jack the vicar moved to Jackie and did the same to her. Then he parted my naked buttocks, stretching my cheeks open wide and licking the delicate tissue surrounding my tight bottom-hole. He licked and slurped for several minutes, tasting me there before moving to Jackie and licking the tight hole of her anus too.
His saliva cooled quickly in the cold air and ran down my inner thighs, and I shivered. There was a strange atmosphere in the church – it was eerie, as if unseen eyes were watching me, and I began to wonder whether this was a good idea. By offering my young body to the perverted vicar, I was desecrating a holy place. But I’d been paid and I had a job to do. Besides, half an hour wasn’t long and I’d soon be back outside in the sunshine.
As the vicar walked round to the other side of the altar and bound my wrists together with rope, I wondered whether I should protest. He pulled on the rope, stretching my arms across the altar before securing the end. Then he did the same to Jackie, binding her wrists together and pulling her arms across the altar before he stood behind us once again. He hadn’t mentioned bondage when we’d agreed on the price, but I thought that it was probably all right.
‘I offer you the flesh of these whores,’ Jack bellowed, his voice echoing around the church. ‘I offer you, oh master, the defiled flesh of these young girls.’
Jackie and I looked at each other, frowning as the vicar began chanting and again offered our young bodies to his unseen master. His time was running out, I mused. There again, with our wrists bound he could keep us there for as long as he liked. I watched him take a huge candle from the altar and knew what he was about to do as he knelt behind Jackie. Grimacing, she whimpered as he forced the candle deep into her teenage vagina. Then he took another candle, parted the fleshy lips of my pussy and pushed the waxen phallus deep into my sex sheath too.
I’d never had my young vaginal opening stretched so far, and I thought that I was going to split apart as the vicar pushed the candle fully home. My clitoris forced out from beneath its protective hood, the delicate petals of my inner lips stretched tautly around the wax shaft, it felt as though the candle had sunk deep into my contracting womb. He’d said that he’d wanted anal sex, but there was no way he’d be able to push his cock into the restricted sheath of my rectum.
I reminded the vicar that his time was running out as he bound my right foot to Jackie’s left foot with rope, but he said nothing. After licking my bottom-hole again he eased a finger deep into the tight duct of my rectum and massaged my hot inner flesh. He was in control now that we were tied over the altar, and I felt a little apprehensive. Reaching across to Jackie with his free hand, he pushed a finger deep into her tight anal duct and began his crude double thrusting. We were his victims now.
My vaginal muscles tightened, gripping the huge candle, and I began to tremble as my clitoris swelled and my sex milk flowed. Jackie was gasping, her eyes rolling as she quivered. I imagined the view that the vicar had of our stretched pussy lips, the huge candles emerging from our teenage pussies, as he fingered the hot sheaths of our rectums. He began chanting again, his low voice resounding around the church as he called again on his master to take our young bodies.
Jack finally slipped his fingers out of our bottoms, lifted his cassock and pressed the head of his cock hard against my tight anus. Clutching my hips, he moved forward, his solid shaft entering me slowly, forcing my rectal duct wide open as I whimpered and gasped. My sex holes bloated, stretched to capacity, I thought again that I was going to split open as he rammed his rock-hard cock fully home.
‘You’re so tight and hot,’ he breathed, withdrawing his solid shaft before driving his knob deep into my tethered body again. ‘A slut like you should have her arse fucked every day. You’re dirty-cunted little bitches. Filthy, common little whores like you two should . . .’
My young body jolted with the crude shafting of my inflamed bottom-hole as Jack uttered his words of debased sex. I felt my aching vaginal muscles tighten again around the huge candle. Jackie winked at me as the vicar called us vulgar little schoolgirls. We were certainly earning our money, I thought, smiling back at her. I didn’t like the idea of being bound with rope over the altar, but we were earning two hundred pounds.