Depravicus

by Ray Gordon

  "That's nice," she breathed dreamily, her naked body trembling as he tongue-fucked her pert bottom. "Open my arse wider." Complying with her crude request, Will stretched the tight hole of her bottom further open, his tongue driving deeper into the heat of her anal canal as she squirmed and writhed in her illicit ecstasy. Guilt consuming him as thoughts of Josie loomed in his mind, images of the girl walking into the bedroom and discovering his adulterous act, he decided to be firm with her. She'd been complaining about her dining room when, after all, it was Will's house. It wasn't as though they were married, he reflected, sucking hard on Lolita's anal inlet. Josie was good in bed, good company, a brilliant cook... But she needed a firm hand, and a firm cock up her arsehole.

  The phone ringing again, Will ignored it as he tongued Lolita's anal canal, lubricating her tight rectum with saliva in readiness for the inevitable penile penetration of her sweet bottom-hole. The phone ringing incessantly, he knew it would be Josie. What was he doing? What was happened to her dining room? How many girls had he fucked? How many times had he wanked? Hoping she was still in Moscow, he wondered whether she really did plan to come home. She had her assignment to complete, and he doubted that she'd leave at the drop of a hat. Or the drop of a girl's panties.

  Wishing he'd contacted the KGB and told them that she was a spy, he wondered whether to call the police and inform them that she was going to bring drugs into the country. She'd be nabbed at the airport and... and she wouldn't be carrying drugs. It would cost too much to have a guerrilla hijack the plane and force it to land somewhere in South America. But the idea was worth bearing in mind. Fuck, he thought, wondering what the hell to do as he slipped a finger deep into Lolita's bottom.

  The girl writhed and gasped as he massaged her inner rectal flesh, the exquisitely alluring tissue of her anus stretched tautly around his pistoning finger. He was enjoying himself, looking forward to driving his massive organ deep into the girl's tiny arse, but he knew that he couldn't trust her. She'd already tricked him, tried to have his wicked ways discovered by the Reverend Slagger. Slipping a second finger into her inflamed bottom-hole, he decided to keep her prisoner in the garden shed. It was a pretty naff plan, he knew, but he had to take her out of the game to be sure that she wasn't on the side of the enemy. Besides, there was nothing like having fresh pussy in store.

  "More fingers," she breathed, parting her thighs further. Will focused on the swell of her naked vaginal lips ballooning between her firm thighs, her gaping valley of desire as he thrust a third finger into her hot anal canal. Her cunt-milk oozing between her inner lips, he knew she was almost ready to have his cock embedded deep within her bottom. Ordering her to get on all fours and push her bum out, he gazed longingly at her. The lips of her pussy swelling as she jutted her spankable buttocks out further, she parted her knees as wide as she could, blatantly displaying herself to his wide eyes.

  She really was a horny little beauty, he thought, watching the juices of her pussy running down her sex valley. She wasn't a nun, he was sure as he finger-fucked her pert bottom-hole. If she wasn't a nun and Marianne was Mrs Baxter's daughter, then who the hell were these angels of carnal lust? Where had they come from, and what was their game? Lana the barmaid had said that she'd only been in the village for a week. There were too many ravishing little tarts materializing in the village for Will's liking. A terrible thought striking him as he fingered Lolita's hot rectum, he wondered whether Josie had set him up. She might have paid the girls to seduce him, to test his fidelity. Josie would do that, would she?

  The phone ringing again, he slipped his sticky fingers out of the girl's bottom and grabbed his erect penis by the base. Stabbing at her partially-open hole of illicit pleasure, he managed to push his knob into her tight tube, his massive girth forcing her open. Protesting wildly, Lolita tried to escape the enforced anal fucking but Will grabbed her slender hips and drove the entire length of his granite-hard cock deep into the contracting duct of her tight arse. Withdrawing, he thrust into her writhing body again, his balls battering the swell of her juice-dripping vaginal lips as he watched her ring dragging along his penis.

  "Fucking well take it out," she hissed as he repeatedly propelled his swollen knob into the fiery heat of her bowels.

  "I will, when I've spunked you," he chuckled, his lower belly slapping the unblemished spheres of her naked buttocks.

  "I don't want my fucking bowels fucking spunked."

  "You're going to have your fucking bowels fucking fucked and fucking spunked."

  "What the fuck do you think I am, an analholic?"

  "But of course."

  "I'm a fucking anal virgin, you cunt-prick. At least, I fucking was."

  The phone silent at last, Will increased his rectal shagging rhythm, repeatedly ramming his bulbous knob deep into her pelvic core as she spat expletives and threatened to rip his bollocks off and shove them up his arse. She had such a wonderful way with words, he thought, wondering where she'd be educated. The sewer? His sperm finally surging along the tube of his swelling shaft and jetting from his throbbing knob, he breathed heavily in his forbidden coming as his orgasm rocked his naked body. Filling the slut's bowels, his spunk overflowing and spraying from her stretched anal ring, he fucked her with a cruel vengeance. Again and again he thrust his orgasming glans into the hot depths of her body, his sperm lubricating the enforced union as his swinging balls drained.

  She wasn't an anal virgin, he knew as he made his last thrusts into her contracting rectal duct. Rocking her naked body, meeting his anal thrusts, he reckoned she'd been well and truly arse-fucked many a time. She wasn't a virgin of any description. Finally withdrawing his sperm-dripping penis, he eyed the swollen lips of her pussy, the sex-cream oozing from her vaginal entrance. She'd probably had two cocks fucking her sex hole, he mused, lying on his back and positioning his face beneath her cunt. Knowing the slut-shag that she was, he reckoned she might even have had two up her arse and two up her tight pussy.

  "That's nice," she murmured as he licked her sex-wet valley. Concentrating on her clitoris he licked and sucked, sweeping his tongue over the sensitive tip of her bud of female pleasure as she whimpered in her soaring arousal. The arse-slut was going to come, he knew as her creamy liquid gushed from her teenage cunt. Her vaginal fluid seeping from her neglected pussy, coating his face, she began to shake uncontrollably as the birth of her orgasm stirred deep within. Again and again Will licked her clitoris, sucking the small protrusion as she buried her face in the pillow and wailed.

  "Yes," she finally sang, her body shaking violently, her juices pouring as her clitoris swelled and pulsated. Thrusting his fingers into her tight pussy he massaged her G-spot, sustaining her pleasure as she wailed and squirmed on the bed. Will had never known a girl come so much. Her lubricious juices streaming over his hand, he continued to suck and lick her clitoris, finger-fuck her pussy until she rolled onto her side. His fingers slipping out of her sex he watched her panting for breath, her eyes rolling as she slowly drifted down from her sexual heaven.

  "Was that OK?" he asked, clambering off the bed.

  "OK?" she gasped, her curvaceous body contorting. "Fucking hell... I..."

  "You'd better stay there for a while," he said as the doorbell rang. "Recover from your Entercock-induced orgasm and I'll be back in a minute."

  Grabbing his spare cassock from the wardrobe, he hurried down the stairs. Slipping the garment over his head he hesitated, wondering whether Josie had returned. She'd not taken her keys with her, he reflected, praying she'd not come back to make burgers out of his bollocks. With Lolita recovering on the bed, Josie would go mental. She wouldn't understand why Will had deceived her, cheated on her, betrayed her. There again, she wouldn't give a toss why he'd done it. She'd just tear his balls off and chuck them in the food processor. Taking a deep breath, he finally plucked up the courage to open the door.

  "Oh," he smiled, gazing at Marianne. "You're up bright and early."

  "You stole my photographs," s
he hissed, pushing past him and walking into the hall.

  "Stole your what?" he frowned, closing the door.

  "You came to my house and stole my photographs, and my dirty panties."

  "Photographs? Dirty panties? I really have no idea what you mean. I don't want your dirty underwear."

  "Yes, you do. I've seen your website advertising soiled panties."

  "Website?" he echoed, donning a look of angelic innocence. "What's that?"

  "You know very well what it is. Entercockenterprises dot cum. Freshly worn panties for sale. My mother told me you'd been up to my room."

  "Mrs Baxter told you?"

  "No, my mother told me."

  "Come through to the kitchen, Marianne," he smiled, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I'll make some coffee and we'll have a chat."

  Filling the kettle as the girl sat at the table, Will decided to feed her some disinformation. She also needed feeding with spunk, he thought, his cock twitching in anticipation of a hot, wet, tight pussy. Making the coffee, his cassock tenting, he thought about checking his website. He hadn't checked his e-mails of late, and he wondered how many orders for knickers were piling up.

  "Father Kosher has only just left," he said, stirring the coffee.

  "So?" she snapped.

  "You were talking about photographs, which is rather a coincidence. He was saying there's a girl who goes to his church and, well, I won't go into the sordid details."

  "What does she do?" she asked anxiously, twisting her hair around her fingers.

  "You name it, she does it. She's a right little slut, according to old man Kosher."

  "Who... who is she?" she stammered, her blue eyes wide.

  "I don't know, but he has photographs of her. He's bringing them round to show me later this morning. I might order a few copies and distribute them in the village."

  "He can't have photographs."

  "Why can't he have photographs? He has a very expensive camera."

  "He... Oh, I don't know."

  "Apparently he has a camera hidden beneath the altar. When he's got the girl naked over the altar he takes photographs of her. Now what's all this about Mrs Baxter saying I went to your room?"

  "Oh, nothing."

  "I think she's muddled herself up. She was saying Father Kosher had been to see her and that he'd gone up to your bedroom. She reckoned he left in a hurry, just before I arrived."

  "Father Kosher had been up to my room?" she frowned, biting her glossed lip. "I don't know what's going on," she sighed as he placed a cup of coffee on the table. "Someone's taken some photos from my drawer, and a cassette tape." She stared at Will accusingly. "You tried to steal my tape in the lane, didn't you?"

  "I like music," he smiled. "I only wanted to borrow it."

  "Borrow it? You tried to snatch it. If that copper hadn't come along and... What else did Father Kosher say?"

  "He was saying that this girl, whoever she is, sucks the Bishop's cock off in the woods. Apparently he has photographs of the girl kneeling on the ground with the Bishop's knob in her mouth and spunk running down her chin. I'll find out who she is later this morning."

  "I... I'd better go," she said, rising to her feet.

  "What about your coffee?"

  "No, I... I'd better be going. I have to see someone."

  As she left, Will grinned and rubbed his hands together. That had put the fear of God up her arse, he mused. Wondering why he'd not seen Levan for some time, he pondered the note she'd left him. Gone to spread some disinformation. Unless he knew what she was telling people, he couldn't play along with the trouble-making lies. Perhaps she'd joined forces with Esra again, he thought, realising they were another two girls who'd suddenly appeared in the village. He again wondered whether Josie had set him up. But she wouldn't be able to round up half a dozen girls to test his fidelity, would she? Knowing Josie's past, her time as a tabloid journalist...

  "I'm going out for a while," Lolita said, popping her head round the kitchen door.

  "Yes, all right," Will murmured distractedly.

  "Do you want anything from the village?"

  "No, no. I'll see you later."

  She was a strange one, Will thought as the front door closed. The more he thought about the onslaught of teenage pussy arriving in the village, the more suspicious he became. He'd been surprised that the Reverend Mother had made a come back after her arrest six months previously. And now a gaggle of girls had descended on the village. Had this anything to do with Josie? Recalling Josie saying something about a girl lurking in the lane, he decided that the time had come to find out exactly what was going on. But first he had to check on the stock in the bar. He knew the beer would be running low, and there was nothing worse than a pub with no beer.

  "God," he breathed, looking around the pristine room. Clean glasses arranged neatly on the shelving behind the bar, the ashtrays gleaming, he gazed at two ice buckets placed either end of the bar. Lana must have taken it upon herself to organize the place, he thought, wondering where she'd obtained the half dozen stools lined up along the bar. If Lana was a spy, then why was she doing such a good job with the bar? He noticed a crate of vodka on the floor. "Where the fuck did she get that?" Returning to the kitchen he grabbed the phone and called Jack at the pub. There was nowhere else the girl could have obtained booze, and he hoped she wasn't running up a huge bill.

  "No one's been here for crates of fucking vodka," Jack replied to Will's question. "Why do you fucking ask?"

  "I just wondered," Will said. "Have any of your ashtrays gone missing?"

  "No, they fucking haven't. What's this all about?"

  "It's OK. I might pop in for a pint later."

  "You'll be the only fucking one in here," he sighed. "It's been dead the last fucking day or so. I can't fucking think where the bloody punters have got to."

  "Er... Neither can I," Will murmured guiltily. "I might see you later." There again, perhaps not.

  Replacing the receiver, Will rubbed his chin. Bar stools, vodka... Lana was up to something, but what? Making himself toast and marmalade for breakfast, he wondered what the girl had done with the bar takings. He doubted she'd run off with the cash. She'd hardly bother to organize the bar and then do a runner. Walking into the garden as he munched his toast, he eyed the bushes, wondering who'd been lurking there. Fucking spies, he thought angrily. But did it really matter? Whoever it was had obviously enjoyed a free live sex show. Free? A free sex show? Ambling across the lawn, a wicked idea coming to mind, he opened the shed door. Setting to work chucking out the garden tools and other useless junk, he began to transform it into the Devil's Den of Iniquity.

  "What are you up to?" Lana asked as she wandered around the side of the house a couple of hours later.

  "Oh, hi," Will smiled. "You're just in time to see my new... Where are the bar takings?" he asked her accusingly. "And where did the vodka and..."

  "I bought the vodka with the takings. The rest of the money is wrapped up in a towel beneath the bar."

  "Ah, right," he murmured. "You've done well, Lana. I'm most impressed."

  "Thank you. I'd better get ready for opening time. I was hoping to get here earlier, but I was held up. God, look at the time," she sighed, checking her watch. "The fruit machine will be here at any minute."

  "Fruit machine?" he echoed, his dark eyes staring at her.

  "Sorry, didn't you want a..."

  "Yes, of course. It's an excellent idea."

  "I thought you'd make some money by having a fruit machine in the bar. A friend of mine works for a... Let's just say that the machine is only fifty pounds. You'll get that back within a few hours of switching it on."

  "I have to say that you're doing a brilliant job, Lana. I can't thank you enough."

  "That's OK, I enjoy it. Oh, there's a till arriving this afternoon. I can't use a biscuit tin as a till any more. Apart from security reasons, it doesn't look professional. I'll leave you to get on with whatever it is you're doing to the shed."
>
  As she wandered through the back door into the kitchen, Will shook his head. She was a godsend, he reflected. But, however efficient and profitable the bar was, Josie would still blow her top when she got home. Josie was the only real problem, he thought, entering the shed. PC Bridlington had nothing on him, the Reverend Mother and the Bishop weren't worth worrying about... But Josie was a real problem. Looking around the shed at the mattress, the vibrators and handcuffs, Will wondered what Josie would say about the den of iniquity, let alone the bar. She treasured her sex toys, and now they were available for use by the punters.

  "The phone's ringing," Lana called from the backdoor.

  "Coming," Will replied, wishing he was coming as he left the shed. Grabbing the phone in the kitchen, he cringed as he heard Josie's voice. "Where are you?" he asked.

  "In Moscow, where do you think?" she laughed.

  At least she sounded happy. "I thought you were coming home."

  "No. I've been thinking, Will."

  "Really?"

  "This meeting you had about the grass verges. I admire that. You've done a lot for the village, and I admire you for that."

  "Oh, thanks." What was she up to?

  "Why not turn the dining room into a sort of permanent meeting place?"

  "Er... Yes, good idea." He could smell a rat. "That's an excellent idea."

  "To be honest, we don't use the room. You might as well turn it into... Oh, I don't know. Perhaps arrange some seating and a few small tables..."

  "Actually, I have one or two ideas on that front," Will broke in rather too eagerly. "I'll get onto it right away."

  "Be careful with my furniture. Oh, that reminds me. Did the French polisher do a good job?"

  "He... he didn't turn up."

  "Oh, that's odd. I'll contact him when I get back. Right, I'd better be going. I'll ring you this evening."

  "OK. Er... Until this evening."

  "Bye, Will. Love you."