Hot Sheets

by Ray Gordon

  "I'll tell you what bloody for! Gobbling his knob beneath the table at breakfast, that's what he owes you money for!"

  "How do you know about..."

  "Right, you owe me forty pounds, that's my cut as your pimp."

  "That's not fair!"

  "As you crawl through life's shit-ridden sewer, you'll find that nothing's fair."

  Raising the whip above his head, Mike brought it down with a loud swish, the thin leather tails lashing the girl's tensed bottom orbs. Shrieking, her body jolting with every stinging lash, she begged him not to thrash her so hard. Grinning, his penis like granite, he ignored her cries and brought the tails down again. The frame was perfect, he decided, watching the thin pink weals fan out across her taut flesh.

  "Argh!" Goldie cried as the whip lashed her again. "Mike, please!"

  "Good, isn't it?" he chuckled. "Paul's a bloody genius!"

  "He's a bloody drunkard! Argh! Please, stop now!"

  "This is God's punishment!"

  "No, it's not!"

  "Yes, it is! This is God's punishment for sucking off the colonel's knob! When your cunt's nicely juiced-up, I'll fuck you for your wickedness!"

  "Ah, oh, oh! Ah, that's nice!"

  "I knew you'd come to like it."

  "Ah, my bum! Ah, oh! God, I want to come!"

  Losing control of his senses, Mike lashed the girl's buttocks with all his might. Her muscles contracting, her bottom crease closing tightly each time the tails flailed her glowing skin, she cried out as her clitoris throbbed and her cunt milk streamed down her inner thighs.

  "Mike, bring me off now!" she begged. "Please, rub my clitty, I need to come!"

  Dropping the whip as someone banged on the door, Mike dashed across the room and turned the key, ignoring the girl's desperate pleas for orgasm. "Who is it?" he called, opening the door an inch or so. "What do you want?"

  "I'm the plumber," a fresh-faced young man volunteered, pushing against the door, trying to get in. "I've turned the water off, you'll have to let me in so that I can take the floorboards up to get to the damaged pipe. I'll tell you one thing, this is going to cost you a small fortune, mate!"

  "You'll do it for nothing, mate!" Mike grinned, grabbing his arm and yanking him into the room. "You can fuck her in way of payment!" he chuckled, pointing to the tethered waitress.

  Staring open-mouthed at Goldie's naked body, her weal-lined buttocks, her ballooning vaginal lips, the plumber dropped his tool bag and shook his head in disbelief. Closing and locking the door, Mike stood next to the flabbergasted man, nudging his arm and grinning wickedly.

  "You can sort her plumbing out before you repair the pipe."

  "My God, I've never..."

  "You can give her a good fuck in way of payment for the work. Get your drain rod out and shove it up her inspection hole."

  "But..."

  "What's the matter?"

  "Well, I... I've never come across anything like this before!"

  "Haven't you? You're not bent, are you? You're not a brown-hatter?"

  "No, I mean..."

  "If you're gay, shove it up her drain hole, if not, then screw her inlet."

  "Mike!" Goldie cried. "You can't..."

  "Shut up, Goldie! It's my hotel, and you're a member of my staff. If I say the plumber can fuck you, then he can fuck you. Read your contract of employment for confirmation."

  "But I don't have a..."

  "There you are then."

  Leaning against the wall as the young man unzipped his jeans and whipped his rock-hard tool out, Mike nodded his head agreeably. The sex room would earn him a small fortune, he reflected. Apart from the paying punters, there'd be plumbers, electricians, maintenance men... he'd never have to shell out cash again! How many fucks for new carpets?

  Watching the plumber position his cock-end in the protesting girl's vaginal valley and push his rod deep into her drenched gulley, Mike realized the scope of his new business venture. Might even talk the butcher into giving me free meat in exchange for Goldie accommodating his flesh stake.

  "God, she's got a tight flange!" the plumber gasped, splaying the girl's buttocks and focusing on her O-ring. "Ah, my rodding arm's in to her end-stop!"

  "Hurry up and drain your ballcock!" Mike chuckled. "I want the pipe fixed."

  "Yes, yes, OK. Ah, God! What a manhole!"

  "I'm supposed to be running the bar, Mike!" Goldie protested as the plumber vigorously rodded her stuffing box. "The lager's run out and..."

  "When you've been well and truly sperm-flushed, you can go back to the bar."

  "This isn't fair!" the girl gasped. "You get the pipe fixed, and I get fucked!"

  "You'll get double-fucked in a minute!"

  "Coming!" the plumber cried as his ball valve opened, sperm gushing from his glans, filling her down pipe. "Ah, there she goes!"

  Watching the spunk pouring out of Goldie's overflow as the plumber drained his reservoir, Mike again pondered on the scope of his sex den. The sky was the limit, he mused, imagining the money rolling in. But word would soon get round, he knew. The plumber would tell his mates about the escapades in room sixty-nine and there'd be a queue of sex-starved tradesmen lined up outside the building. Better stick with discerning businessmen.

  "OK, you've had a quick fuck," Mike said as the young man slowed his pistoning. "Say nothing to anyone about this. If you do, I'll rip your header tank off and tear your bloody piping out."

  "No, I won't say anything," the giddy plumber gasped, slipping his tool out of the girl's brimming gulley. "God, I've never known such a tight fit!"

  "Now get your other tool out and fix the pipe," Mike ordered him, releasing Goldie's trembling body from the frame and helping her to stand upright. "Get dressed, Goldie, and then you'd better go back to the bar."

  "I've been fucked!" the waitress complained, slipping into her clothes, veiling her glowing, naked body. "He made me come without my consent! I'm not here to be fucked and taken to orgasm by all and sundry!"

  "You'll be fucked by whoever I say you'll be fucked!"

  "It's not fair!" Goldie returned, sperm dripping from her inflamed pussy slit and pooling on the floor.

  "Stop complaining or I'll have the plumber stop your mouth with his cockhead!"

  Leaving the satisfied young man to lift the floorboards and repair the damaged pipe, Mike followed Goldie downstairs to reception, reminding her that she owed him forty pounds as she staggered into the bar. Money, money, money, he pondered happily. Frowning as a frumpy, middle-aged woman led half-a-dozen girls into the building, he wondered whether he'd forgotten a booking.

  "May I help you?" he asked the woman, eyeing the giggling girls' knee-length white socks, their blouses straining to contain their tits.

  "I'm Miss Knickerlace - is this a brothel?" she demanded.

  "Er... a brothel?" Mike echoed, surprised.

  "A house of ill repute?"

  Not yet. "Are you looking for a brothel?"

  "Certainly not! I've read about these seedy hotels - are you sure this isn't a house of ill fame?"

  "No, of course it's not."

  "A whorehouse?"

  "No!"

  "Are your staff competent?"

  That'll be the day. "Yes, very."

  "Is the food good?"

  "The food's excellent. We're having Stokepot stew this evening." Horsemeat stew.

  "We need a room for tonight."

  "Just one room?"

  "Yes, and we have no money."

  "Well, I..."

  "Our minibus has broken down and the scruffy, incompetent man at the garage said it won't be ready until tomorrow. You'll have to bill the school."

  "Oh, I see. Well, I don't have a room with seven beds, I'm afraid." I could always fit three or four naked girls into mine.

  "Can't you use your initiative? It's quite simple, all you have to do is take beds from the other rooms," the matron snapped agitatedly.

  "I can't do that. Where would the other guests sleep? Good
grief, I've never known such an uncaring, selfish attitude. Look, I'll see what I can do to accommodate you. If you'll wait in the bar, I'll..."

  "I can't take the girls into a bar."

  "Why not, Miss Knickerlace? There's plenty of seating, and there's a TV."

  "They're too young to be introduced to seedy bars!"

  "It's not a seedy bar! How old are they?"

  "Eighteen."

  Yes, please! "Er... there you are, then."

  "Are there any drunks in there?"

  "Well, no, I don't think so."

  "Aren't you sure?"

  "Yes, of course I'm sure."

  "Sexual deviants?"

  "Where?"

  "In the bar, are there any sexual deviants..."

  God, I wish! "This is a respectable hotel, I'll have you know!"

  "It had better be. Bring us six orange juices and one coffee. All right, girls, follow me."

  "Order the drinks from the bar!" Mike snapped.

  Raising his eyebrows as he watched the young beauties follow the grumpy woman, Mike focused on the backs of their knees, his dark eyes wandering up their unblemished legs to their pleated skirts, billowing provocatively with their rounded buttocks. Christ, I'll bet they're tight and wet, he chuckled inwardly, his penis stiffening, his heavy balls rolling as he entered the kitchen.

  "Ah, Dave, we've just had a party of seven book in," he imparted, leaning over a huge saucepan of bubbling stew. "Fucking hell, it smells like a prostitute's armpit!"

  "It's the horsemeat, Mike. The punters will probably throw up after eating that shit!"

  "No, they won't. As I said, a party of seven have just booked in, so you'd better break out another four or five tins of dog food. Christ, can't you bung some spices in it? Anything to disguise that bloody awful stench!"

  "I have! I've put anything and everything into the pan, but it still reeks to high heaven. Shall I pour some bleach into it?"

  "Bleach? I know what to do, we'll call it steak and ale pie - chuck a pint of bitter into the pan. And take it from the drip tray, not the pump. Christ, it looks like boiling shit!"

  "Stokepot shit pie!" Dave laughed.

  "What's for starters?"

  "Ah, the chef's special!" he grinned proudly. "Marrowbone jelly soup. It's over there, ready to be nuked in the microwave."

  "Fuck me! What are those black lumps in it? They look like bits of burnt toast."

  "They are, I saved them from breakfast. I'll make out they're croutons."

  "Good thinking, you're learning fast. Right, everything's under control. I've got it!"

  "You've got what?"

  "Fruit salad with half a bottle of vodka chucked in."

  "Vodka?"

  "There are six girls out there - they'll get pissed out of their heads on the fruit salad and they'll be anyone's!"

  "It's unlike you to waste good booze!"

  "If I get to fuck the girls, it won't be wasted, will it?"

  "No, I suppose not."

  "OK, I'd better go and kick the plumber's arse! See you later."

  Leaving the kitchen, Mike was about to leap up the stairs when Miss Knickerlace entered the foyer. Scowling, her lips pursed in anger, she placed her clenched fists on her ample hips as she confronted him.

  "This simply won't do!" she growled.

  "What won't do?"

  "There's a dirty old man in the bar!"

  "Really?"

  "Yes, a disgusting old man with a waxed moustache. He keeps making lewd remarks about my girls' inner thighs!"

  "All right, I'll have a word with him," Mike sighed, entering the bar.

  "And he keeps trying to look up their skirts!"

  Thank God for normality.

  Shaking his head as he gazed at the colonel ogling the pretty girls sitting in a row on the sofa, Mike took the old man to one side. "Colonel, I'd like you to..."

  "By gad, old boy! A fine gaggle of birds!" the colonel grinned wickedly. "They could have me eating out of their knickers any time! What!"

  "Colonel, Miss Knickerlace, their chaperone, has asked me to..."

  "Any chance of sending one of them up to my room? I haven't eaten pussy in years!"

  "I'll see what I can do. But you must leave them alone, Colonel. Go and sit at the bar and stop ogling them, And, please, don't make lewd remarks about their..."

  "What do you reckon the chances are?"

  "Chances?"

  "Of you sending one up to my room."

  "I don't know, I'll do my best. It'll cost you, though."

  "Anything, old boy - anything! Do you know, back in forty-three..."

  Wandering down to his basement flat as the colonel droned on, Mike flopped onto his bed, picturing the six juicy pussies tightly closed as they sat on the sofa above his bedroom. There had to be a way of getting into their knickers, he pondered. He could charge the colonel a bloody fortune! Lure one of the girls away during the night, while Knickerlace was sleeping, and take her to the colonel's room.

  Closing his eyes, he dozed off, dreaming about fresh pussy cream bathing his face, teenage clitorises throbbing in orgasm beneath his sweeping tongue, hot mouths fervently sucking on his spasming knob.

  Waking with a start, wondering what the time was, Mike focused on the clock. "Shit, it's eight o'clock!" he gasped, climbing off the bed. "Christ, what are you doing down here?" he asked the pretty girl standing in the doorway.

  "Miss Knickerlace has been looking for you."

  "Oh, er... right, I'd better get upstairs."

  "You needn't bother, she's been taken ill - she's in bed."

  "Ill? She's not dead, is she?"

  "No, of course she's not."

  "Which room is she in?"

  "I don't know, the barman took her up to a room when she threw up after dinner."

  "Christ, that'll be the... is anyone else ill?"

  "No, only her."

  Feasting his eyes on the girl's naked thighs as she walked over to the bed, Mike pictured her youthful sex slit, imagining running his tongue up her moist valley, tasting her creamy maiden juice, stiffening her clitoris. Her breasts would be hard, firm in her tender years, he deliberated - her nipples erect, sensitive. This was an opportunity that he couldn't miss! But how to get inside her straining bra, her damp knickers - her beautiful cunt?

  Smiling as she sat on the edge of the bed, her skirt riding up her shapely, milk-white thighs, Mike imagined her reclining, her knickers round her ankles, her skirt up over her stomach, her slender fingers parting her swollen vaginal lips. His penis solid, threatening to burst his zip, he cleared his throat, desperate to get inside her tight, hot, wet pussy sheath.

  "Er... you shouldn't be down here," he said shakily, his hands trembling, his heart racing wildly.

  "Oh, I'll go if..."

  "No, no it's all right. Aren't you too old to play hide and seek?"

  "Yes, I suppose so, but there's nothing else to do."

  "How old are you?"

  "Eighteen. We're going round the country visiting museums - shit, has it been boring!"

  "What would you prefer to do?"

  "Get drunk!" the girl giggled impishly, her slender fingers toying with her long blonde hair. "You haven't got any booze down here, have you?"

  "Well, I might have, but..."

  "What's all that stuff in room sixty-nine?"

  "Room sixty-nine? Er... you shouldn't have gone up there!"

  "It's for sex, isn't it?" the angel grinned salaciously, reclining on the bed.

  "Er... no!"

  "Do you like sex?"

  "Of course I do!" Mike chuckled, eyeing the slight swell of her stomach as her blouse parted company with her navy-blue skirt. "How about you?"

  "I've never actually done it... well, I've experimented. Why don't you teach me?"

  Please don't let this be a dream! "Er... teach you?"

  "Yes, teach me all there is to know about sex."

  Lifting her skirt over her stomach, the latent Lolita lifted her b
uttocks clear of the bed and placed her thumbs between the elastic of her bulging navy-blue knickers and her shapely hips. Tugging the garment down to her knees, revealing her downy mons, her pouting vaginal lips, her sex slit, she raised her feet above her body and pulled her knickers off her feet. Gazing appreciatively at her cunny lips ballooning beneath her sex mound, Mike gasped as she lowered her legs, placing her feet on the floor and parting her thighs.

  "Do you like my pussy?" she asked brazenly, licking her red lips, her slender fingers stroking her swollen sex hillocks.

  "Christ, yes!" he breathed, dropping to his knees and settling between her legs. Her taut buttocks positioned over the edge of the bed, her girl slit open, he kissed her inner thighs, breathing in the heady scent of her virginal sex valley.

  "You can lick me, if you want to," she whispered, parting her outer cunny lips, exposing her glistening pink flesh, her erect clitoris. "Lick my pussy. Lick my cunt."

  Sweeping his tongue up her sweet sex valley, Mike savoured her opaque vaginal fluid, lapping up her decanting lust juices as she gasped and writhed on the bed. Spreadeagling her thighs, he drove his tongue into the heat of her virginal cunt, his knob swollen, yearning to pierce her innocence and drive deep into her tight sex. Moving up her girl crack to her exposed clitoris, he sucked the small sex button into his mouth, snaking his tongue round the erectile protrusion.

  "Oh, oh!" she gasped as he repeatedly flicked his tongue over the sensitive tip of her solid bud, taking the whimpering girl closer to her orgasm. "Do it faster! Suck it, lick it!" she wailed, her slender fingers peeling her outer cunny lips further apart, presenting the entire length of her pulsating clitoris to his caressing tongue. "Oh, I'm going to... I'm going to come!"

  Arching her back as her climax erupted within her throbbing pleasure nodule, she cried out, her wails of female pleasure echoing around the room, her juices flowing in torrents from her inner nectaries. Thrusting two fingers into her neglected cunt, Mike sucked harder on her throbbing cherry, flicking his tongue over the ever burgeoning bud, sustaining her shuddering orgasm.

  Writhing, her limbs thrashing in ecstasy as she attained the most intense orgasm of her life, she screamed her pleasure, begging for Mike to fuck her. "Your cock!" she gasped unashamedly. "Put your cock up my cunt and fuck me!" Hurriedly unzipping his trousers, Mike whipped his solid weapon out and moved forward on his knees, presenting his inflated knob to the girl's drenched sex portal. "Put it in me!" she cried, opening her legs as wide as she could and sliding her buttocks further over the edge of the bed. "Put it in my cunt and fuck me!"