“Yeah, easy does it.” Jerome whispered to her as his hands played with her aching breasts, teasing the hard pink nipples.
“Uhhmm, ohhh!” Natasha moaned. ‘Oh, fuck…’ she thought. ‘His cock is so big… I’m getting ripped open… but I so love it.
“How’re you feeling, baby?” Eddie asked her as he released his thick meat from her mouth.
“Oh, I love… love this.” She gasped, her body heaving with every inch of Jerome’s cock easing into her.
“And you’re going to love it even more, baby.” Eddie chuckled and knelt down behind her as she straddled Jerome. “When my love-missile goes up your tight virgin plumbing.”
“Ohmigod.” Natasha gasped and dug her nails into Jerome’s meaty chest. “But I… I never thought about getting it there… I’ve never… no.”
“You’ll love it, baby.”Jerome reached up and caressed her face. “You did say you wanted all in… on a five to one odds.”
“Yes, but I…” Natasha moaned as Jerome’s ten inch cock began to feel more and more pleasurable inside her tight young pussy.
“Relax; Eddie knows what he’s doing.” Jerome laughed. ‘All in, as in all of your holes filled for your very first time. And you’ve got ten grand riding on this, right?”
“Oh, yes… yes.” Natasha nodded nervously and leaned forward, squashing her breasts on Jerome’s not too muscled chest. She opened her mouth and let Jerome’s slick tongue slip in like a snake.
Eddie brought his hand down hard on her plump ass sticking up at him as she rode Jerome’s pole, making her jerk and twitch. Oh, that hurt, but it also felt so damn good. And then she stiffened as Eddie’s eight inches of salami thickness, all lathered in her saliva, slid over her crack and prodded against her tight little rear hole. Something pushed its way in, but it wasn’t as thick, and she realized he was easing his slippery finger in first. She relaxed and let it slide all the way in. The sensation of something filling her up from behind sent a series of shudders through her, making Jerome’s cock feel all the more enjoyable inside her pussy. Eddie pulled away his finger, and then replaced it with the flat head of his cock. He grabbed her waist and pushed in, gently but with force. Natasha screamed into Jerome’s grinning face, but more in panic than in pain. She had never had a cock up her ass before, but she had never had one in her pussy before either, or down her throat. And now she had all her holes filled. The two thick and throbbing cocks lodged deep inside her filled her with a sensation of being bloated, but instead of any uneasiness it strangely felt good.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Jerome grinned, as if he could read her thoughts. “I see it in your lovely expression, darlin’, you love this.”
Natasha nodded in agreement, kissing his lips and chin. The two older men began to move, slowly, in and out, back and forth. She also moved with the rhythm the two men were setting for her. The two cocks inside her moved in tandem, and the sensation sent waves of numbing pleasure through her. She could feel an orgasm begin to rise inside her and she craved for it more than anything she had ever before.
“Oh, god.” She yelled out, shredding the last vestige of her confining inhibitions. “I’m going to cum… I’ll fucking cum so hard... so hard… oh, I’m going to die. Oh, fuck me, fuck me... come on, you old fucking bastards. Fuck me!”
The two older men roared with laughter as they slammed her from front and back. Natasha convulsed and shuddered as the most intense orgasm she had ever had ripped through her body. She clawed at Jerome as he pumped his cock into her soppy cunt. She felt Eddie’s cock get even bigger and harder inside her ass.
“Oh, this is so fucking good.” Eddie grunted like a wild animal and she felt his body get stiff and then relax against her. His cock stretched her tight anal canal to the limit before it exploded inside her and he held her close to him. Spurt after spurt of his hot spunk flooded her rear canal.
Almost at the same instant she felt Jerome’s hot release erupt inside her pussy. The sensation of both the men cumming deep inside her made her body tremble violently as another orgasm cascaded through her. She heard their lustful and satisfied grunts and groans and knew she had well and truly won this gamble, her first and only jackpot win. Ten grand for getting all her holes filled. Talk about eating her cake, having it and taking it to the bank.
“Babe, you are the best.” Jerome panted, as Eddie pulled his spent cock out of her ass and helped her get off his cock. “Ten grand well spent.”
Natasha smiled dreamily and stretched her naked, cum filled body on the bed. She looked up at the two sweat covered men and felt like she could get used to this.
“So here’s the deal, hon.” Eddie filled three flutes of champagne and handed her one. “We like you and want more of your time.”
Natasha accepted the drink gratefully and sighed deeply. She took a sip of the exquisite beverage and nodded at the men. “I’m up with that. Is it always going to be ten grand… each time?”
“More, darling.” Jerome smiled as he sipped his drink. “Up to ten times more. You see, we are in the business of making private sex films for a very exclusive group. Not the shitty porn you see all around, but tasteful and very sensually explorative stuff for a very high class clientele of both very sophisticated female and male audiences. And you’re just the kind of woman our market prefers.”
“Oh.” She looked shaken and uncertain. “Did I… er… we get filmed right now?”
“Not at all, babe.” Eddie cut in. “We’re totally legit, we take consent before filming… and we sign legal and binding contracts before doing anything.”
“Consider this your private audition and you aced it.” Jerome smiled in that friendly manner the first time she met him, an hour or so ago. “And now only if you agree, we can draw up a deal with you and you’ll only have to work two days a week.”
“We’ll pay you forty grand each week.” Eddie winked at her.
Natasha gasped so hard, her champagne came up her nose. That was the most insane thing she ever heard. She had to have sex with these men twice a week for forty thousand dollars! She was sure now that she must have hit her head somewhere and all of this was some cruel dream.
“It’s no dream.” Jerome said in a most unnervingly perceptive manner and held out a private business card to her. “You can take your time to think over it… here’s my personal number. Call me at any time.”
“And the ten thousand for today?” She asked, still shaken.
“That’s yours. You earned it.” Eddie told her with an appreciative nod.
“How much of this should I give Francois Lauran… does he know about…?”
“The ten grand is all yours, Nat.” Eddie grinned. “…and we have a separate arrangement with Lauran, it doesn’t extend to the girls.”
“Oh!” Natasha felt a strange sense of relief. “Okay… I’ll… um… need to think…”
“Yeah, sure. Take all week.” Jerome stood up and reached for his clothes. “Call me next Sunday with whatever you decide.”
“I… well; I’ll see you then… thank you.” She stood up and picked up her jeans and top from the floor. She didn’t see the micro underwear she was wearing anywhere.
“No, thank you, Miss O’Natalia.” Jerome grinned wide.
“Sure.” She blushed. “I… I’ll have to call Dor… Doreen… to take me home.”
“Don’t sweat it.” Eddie patted her on her naked buttock as she bent over to pull up her jeans. “One of our cars will take you home.”
“Wow!” She shook her head. “This is insane… a dream come true. Not that I ever had such a dream.”
“Life’s like that, Miss Nata O’Natalia,” Jerome nodded at her. “…things happen when you least expect it… be it good or bad.”
“They sure do.” She smiled brightly at the two older men. “And oh… my name is Natasha Gillian Wallis.”
Story 35
CHAPTER 1:
The vicarage lay hushed and quiet all around her and Clarissa paused
, her ears tuned for the quiet footfall that would signal her pale and stern father was approaching.
But of course he wouldn’t be approaching, not now or ever again. He’d died and he’d left her both penniless and orphaned, and entirely without prospects as well.
The vicarage would have to be turned over soon, and Clarissa was terrified. She’d spent her entire life in the gloomy parish, perched neatly between the coal mines and the rolling, but entirely barren hills. She too had been perched neatly between two things. Her position as the vicar’s daughter meant she could not befriend those in town as they were beneath her socially, and it also meant she was too lowly for those who lived beyond the last stark hill in their tall mansions set neatly on long rolling lawns.
She was neither laborer nor one who had a life of ease. She fit in nowhere and her father’s sudden death had taken her wholly by surprise and jolted her out of the safe, if dreary, day-today of her existence.
She’d spent the last two weeks trying to find a position somewhere nearby. At first she’d tried for a governess position. She was well-educated after all. But nobody knew anyone in need of a governess. She’d inquired at the houses of the lord who loved beyond the hills and in the houses of the overseers of the mines as well because she had known that they alone would or could afford a governess.
When that had failed she’d tried for a house position. She knew how to keep house; certainly, she’d been responsible for the entire vicarage since her mother had died six years before.
Only nobody had need of her for that either.
Clarissa, who was known to be sassy and pert, unwelcome qualities in any woman, knew that it was likely not her qualifications that kept her from a position but that reputation. She wished, fervently, that she could simply go back in time and be far more sedate and polite but that too was impossible.
She’d been desperate and crushed, and things had gotten even worse when she had received a note from the Lord, whose wealth depended on those mines, stating that a new vicar and his family would be coming to take up residence within a fortnight.
Out of a sense of duty to the new arrivals she’d set out to clean the place thoroughly in order to allow them to have it in good condition. She also hoped the hard work would help her to keep herself occupied as she tried to think of what to do next.
After she was done cleaning and had taken inventory of everything that did not stay with the vicarage she sold every bit of furniture that her father and mother had accumulated, even the stove although its loss left her shivering with cold during the chilly nights and forced her to cook on the open hearth. She counted every penny and scraped together all the money left from the last month of her father’s wages and then she’d sold every bit of butter she could churn and cheese she could form before she finally sold the cow as well.
The money was not enough, and she knew that because while her father had been a brilliant orator he’d been utterly unable to manage a single bookkeeping or housekeeping task. He would order more candles than anyone could use and forget they needed groceries. He’d neglect to pay the butcher and order a new altar cloth from a woman known for her shoddy stitches.
Clarissa had done all of that after it became apparent he would spend them into a misery of too many napkins and no bread, and so she knew exactly how far the money would stretch.
Not very far at all.
She had a letter of recommendation from the lord, and from a kindly parishioner. She had the scant amount of money and two valises filled with her plain and somber clothing.
And absolutely nowhere to go.
She’d considered going to London to try to find a position, and she was certain that that was her only hope. There nobody would know she was known for being sassy and proud. She could change her ways, mute her natural pertness, and find a position that would give her a roof over her head and food, and wages. She could think of a better plan later, after those things were taken care of and she was no longer so harried or frightened.
There was a loud and imperious rap at the front door. Clarissa clutched her collar together at her slender throat, her whole body shaking. The new vicar then, come earlier than planned.
Her heart knocking in her chest she went to the door and opened it to see the postman standing there, his cap pulled down to protect his face from the rain spitting from the sullen sky.
She swallowed hard. “Yes?”
Her voice echoed through the mostly-emptied rooms, making her shiver.
He thrust a letter at her, “Here, this be yours. Came early yesterday but the rain kept me from making my rounds.”
She nodded. “Thank you. Very much.”
Her hands shook as she took the missive. It was encased in a crisp and thick envelope. Very good quality. The writing was crisp and concise, and the ink black and heavy. She closed the door and stared down at it. She knew nobody in the corner of the country it had come from and she frowned as she broke the red wax seal in the back of the envelope and pulled out a single and equally thick and fine sheet of paper.
Dear Miss Clarissa Banks,
I am your father’s family solicitor. Your father, as you know, was the second son of Mr. Paul Banks and it was his eldest son Roger who inherited the home and grounds when Mister Banks passed away many years ago.
Your father has steadfastly refused to return to the home, citing his duty to his parishioners as just cause, and the home has been maintained by an overseer by the name of Reynolds in the absence of family. Reynolds does not live on the property as his business affairs take him away frequently but he is capable and has ensured that the place has been well-kept in the family’s absence. The caretaker hired by Reynolds is due to depart at the end of this month however, so a new one must be appointed, or you will need to care for the necessary things yourself until one can be found.
I have been notified of your father’s passing, as your father had instructed me to do in case of his demise, and so am writing you to make clear that you are now the sole owner and heir of the estate, which is small in grounds but the house itself is large.
There is little in the way of money but there is livestock and gardens, all taken care of in the interim, and one could live there comfortably for quite some time.
The keys are to be handed over upon your arrival at the house. You will be met by the overseer Reynolds at the train station. He is currently journeying through the country on business affairs of his own but should arrive back in time to meet you.
The train runs from the town not far from your father’s parish to the town set just below the house and grounds. I assume Reynolds will see to your transportation from that station to the house but you must make your own arrangements to board and arrive.
I am enclosing a small amount of money within to assure you of the fare.
Sincerely,
L. Banister
Clarissa’s breath caught. Surely she was dreaming!
She’d known, of course, that her father came from a genteel, if slightly impoverished family, and that as was usual his older brother had inherited everything while her father had to make his own way in the world.
She’d also known that he had come from the rolling green hills and the wild, rugged coasts far to the other side of the country, as had her mother—who’s been a governess before she’d married.
This letter was the answer to her prayers. The money she had managed to acquire would see her through for a short while, and if there was any money with the estate, small sum or no, she could survive. She was used to thrift, after all, and hard work.
She most certainly could not afford a caretaker for the place but if there were, as the letter said, gardens and livestock that had been properly cared for she could manage to keep them up on her own.
The caretaker was leaving at the end of the month. That was in just a few days time. She had to leave the vicarage tomorrow, and there was a train tomorrow as well. The journey would take several days but she should be able to arrive just as t
he caretaker left, barring delays.
She was already packed as the new residents were arriving and she had meant to go down to the village today to purchase her train ticket, and she had been putting that off in the hopes of earning just slightly more prior to her departure. The fare enclosed was a boon. She fingered the notes with a frown, there would be enough for the fare and she could use her own money for something else she would need later.
Now that she knew she had a place she had so much to do! There were grape seedlings she had meant to leave, and small and tender plantings she had nursed into life that she would like to take now that she knew she would have a place to plant them.
The books of her father’s that she had meant to leave must go too, but adding those things would mean taking along the heavy trunk she had also meant to leave behind.
Rough Erotica Page 76