Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Once a Slut Always a Slut SeXStoRY
I held my breath – and then I knew I had crossed a line – I had become by my submission, in that instant of time, another individual. I had known Paul Phillips since I had arrived at the local school in the village some 6 years before. We had moved on together to the grammar school in a nearby town a couple of years later. We had been sort of friends from the start but as we grew older he became one of the ‘in-crowd’ and it seemed everyone sought his company and approval – for why I am not entirely sure but perhaps it was that he was a keen sportsman; good-looking bloke with an acerbic wit which he would use to cut others into pieces. I, on the other hand, was an ‘also ran’; always on the edge of what was going on – rarely a part of it and then only as the butt of Paul Phillip’s sarcasm, with which he would often humiliate me, leaving me red-faced and feeling very inadequate. Yet at times, when he had no one else to talk to or meet with, he would revert to the old days and could be quite pleasant. This in a way made it worse because I never knew which persona he was using until he either said something nice or something nasty. Then there was the way he looked at me; I felt he knew my guilty secret – I like to dress in girls clothes. The events I shall describe all happened some years ago and society had not yet reached a level of maturity, that it has today, in accepting transvestites, transgender and all that goes with it. This made me cautious and concerned about being ‘found out’ and what would happen to me both at school and at home. So, in common with many at the time I indulged in my secret pleasure – and told no one! I had just turned 15, small and weedy by the standards of my fellow classmates – my hair was thick, reasonably long and blonde so I was, and had been as a c***d, often mistaken for a girl. This did not entirely help as I was often called a ‘pouf’, queer or strange. My father was always going on about the length of my hair but had, grudgingly, accepted that it was the fashion and so it was usually shoulder length. My dressing sessions were not particularly successful since I had no s****rs; so the few clothes that I wore were mainly from my mother’s old clothes box. Masturbation would follow and once relieved I would hide my ‘treasures’ back in a secret place in a shed I used as my ‘den’. I had also experimented with anal penetration using a large candle. At first I found that it hurt and I could not understand why anyone would do such a thing but after a couple of attempts I found that it needed to be well lubricated and that I needed to relax. Soon I was on to other objects which were much larger but provided I followed the lubricate/relax/lubricate try again process I could take some quite large things in. I was now hugely turned on by the whole anal thing and in my fantasises in bed at night I would imagine being penetrated by a guy whilst having my legs wrapped around his waist. So I assumed I way gay – although I could never imagine being with a man unless I was in full girl mode. I still fancied girls though and this confused me yet further – although I suspected I was intrigued by how girls’ minds worked rather than any thing else. Occasionally, my older b*****r’s girlfriends would stay the night and might throw away tights or, in one case, stockings and I had managed to appropriate them before they got put into the dustbin. I had also slipped into their bedroom at any opportunity and tried some shoes on. Sadly, this was always very brief episode and only left me wanting more. I longed to wear girls’ clothes of my own age and style but I could not go and buy any since I had no money and I would have been embarrassed to death to go into a ladies shop and purchase anything even if I did have some. I would watch fascinated when Sarah (one of the more longer term girlfriends) would sit and do her make-up in the kitchen. On one occasion she caught me watching and said, “You seem awfully interested, Charlie, in what I am doing – shall I show you what to do?” then laughed. I stammered, “Sorry didn’t mean to stare. Sorry!” The thought was lovely though. I did manage to rescue from the bin some her magazines which had features on how to do make-up and hair – these became my fantasy bibles; with the information gleaned I would practice in my mind what I would do if I had some make-up. So when one morning at about 9:30, during the summer holidays, the door bell chimed I was somewhat surprised to see Paul on my doorstep. “Hi Charlie – fancy coming over to mine to listen to some music or something?” Paul was obviously lacking company and I was ‘in favour’. “Yeh! Why not?” Well I had nothing else to do and maybe one day I would be fully accepted into the inner circle if I kept in with him. Paul lived about half a mile away in an oldish red brick house, in a back lane with a large garden surrounded by hedges and trees. It took about 10 mins or so to walk over and he unlocked the back door and let us in. “Are you here on your own?” I asked with some surprise since I was hardly ever left in our house on my own. “Yup! My Mum and Dad are away on holiday and my s****r has just started work in Leeds and won’t be back until after 6 this evening.” I brought to mind his s****r – quite a gal by all accounts, red-headed, sexy and wild by anyone’s standards. On the occasions I had seen her out and about she caused a stir in a certain part of my anatomy; not just because she was very attractive but the heels and clothes she wore were exactly what I wanted to wear. “Come on in I’ll get us a beer – although I bet you like wine don’t you?” This was said in a jokey manner so I responded truthfully. “Actually I do – I don’t get the beer thing!” Truth to tell I didn’t like the taste and it gave me a really bad head in the mornings. “bl**dy Wimp! I’ll get you a glaase of wine instead.” He was laughing and had said glass in the way that posh, affected people often pronounce it and, again, was said in a way that I did not feel that I was being got at in any way. I followed him into the lounge and he gave me a glass. “Red or white?” “White please!” He muttered, “Might have guessed!” under his breath and slipped out to the kitchen. He returned with a bottle of white wine and poured me a large glass. “Sit down you tart – standing there like a spare prick at a wedding!” I sat down, sipping the wine and tried to look interested in some of his albums which were strewn across the floor. “What do you like? – Clapton? Deep Purple?” I felt I was being tested. “Well Sade actually!” He burst out laughing. “Sade! You really are a bl**dy girl aren’t you – that’s what girls like!” I blushed and said, “Well it’s what I like!” He looked at me and said, “I bet you like wearing girls’ clothes don’t you?” “Good God no! – What ever makes you think that?” I tried to sound insulted and manly but how did he know? “Lots of guys do y’know – I do!” “Really!” I tried to sound disbelieving and shocked. “Yup – in fact I was going to get dressed up today but I thought it might be fun to do it with someone else.” “Well you have the wrong guy here – I’d think I’d better go!” “Oh! Please yourself but I thought you might enjoy it?” “It’s just a bit odd isn’t it?” I said trying to be nonchalant but at the same time my mind racing with how I could actually agree without seeming to be too eager. Gradually, Paul talked me round into an idea of he and I getting dressed up – he seemed to have answer for everything but I was worried – would he tell everyone at school? ‘No of course not!’ was his vigorous reply. He would get dressed up too so he would have tell everyone about himself wouldn’t he? Still I was wavering then he said, “Listen, my s****r was out last night and came back pissed as a fart as usual!– she’s dumped her clothes on the floor in her bedroom – she’ll never know if they are worn again – she’ll put ‘em straight in the wash!” Knowing the kind of clothes she wore my penis flicked at the thought of wearing her used underwear and the fabulous high heels she strutted around in. “OK but you’ll be getting dressed as well?” I had weakened and given in. “Yes! Of course, come on let’s do it!” Paul’s response was enthusiastic and convincing. We made our way upstairs and sure enough in Rachael’s bedroom there lay a pile of clothes thrown in the corner. Paul began taking his clothes off and I followed suit so that soon we were both down to our boxers – it was then that I realised that I had forgotten that I shaved my legs on a regular basis. “You look pretty smooth on the leg front Charlie?” Paul said questioningly – I flushed up and replied, “Yeh! I don’t have a lot of body hair really.” Which was generally true but my legs did look particularly smooth and glossy. He glanced back at the pile of clothes and started to root through them. He produced a pair of black silky knickers which had a cotton gusset. The white cotton was stained and he sniffed them; “Coo! God knows what she’s been up to the tart – fucked by anything that moves I shouldn’t wonder – go on have a smell of these!” I took them and held them to my nose; the smell was not unpleasant but it was slightly fishy and the gusset was damp. “Put ‘em on Charlie – go on!” My boxers were off in a flash and I had slid the knickers on without even giving it a second thought. I pulled them up tight trapping my engorging prick and pulling my manhood under and in between my legs to avoid it erecting out at the front. Paul proffered a matching black suspender belt and I took it from him – fastening it behind me in a much practiced fashion. In seconds he had found her chocolate brown stockings and I rolled one over my hand and wrist; placing the rolled up stocking over my toes I slid it up my leg bringing a suspender underneath the knickers and attaching to the top of the welt of the stocking. The other suspender likewise was attached in a flash. I had just fastened the second stocking when I realised that Paul was staring at me. “You’ve done that before haven’t you?” “Eh! Well! Ah! – No! – It’s just that… err! Isn’t that how it’s done?” Just for that instant I had forgotten he was there. “I bet you have - I always thought you were a bit of a sissy!” “No! I promise I don’t know anything about women’s clothes really.” “Put the bra on then!” A matching black lacy bra was now being offered to me – so I made out I didn’t know how to fasten it. Paul fastened it for me and, after rooting about in one of his s****r’s drawers produced some scrunched-up stockings and proceeded to pack the cups out to make them look like breasts. As He did so his pubic area brushed up against my legs and I felt his cock straining in his boxers. He stepped back and said, “Hey! You look pretty sexy in those – why don’t you put her heels on?” I looked at the black 4 inch stilettos with fine black ankle straps and wavered, “Hang on! I thought you were going to get dressed as well?” “Yep just going to get some more of her stuff from the spare room – you get the shoes on and I’ll bring it back here.” He went out and I lovingly slipped the shoes on; fastening the ankle buckles carefully. I stood up and looked in a full length mirror and I could see what Paul meant. I had a good figure and great smooth legs terminating in nice ankles and sexy high heels. I could not help but posture in a girly way and in my mind I went ‘wow!’ Click! And flash! Then whirr! With horror I realised Paul was at the door with a Polaroid Camera. “That should be a good one to show everyone at school!” He was laughing all over his face; I knew that the colour had drained from mine and my heart seemed to be beating in my mouth. “No! Please God! No! Paul!” I could hear the pleading in my voice. He continued to laugh as the he held the photo in his hands waiting for it to develop. “No! No! Paul! Please you can’t do this to me? I’ll be crucified at school if you show that!” “Ah what a good pic of you Charlie or perhaps I should call you Charlotte?” The photo had now developed and he was examining it carefully. “Yup it definitely shows you dressed in stockings, suspenders, bra and very high heels preening yourself by the mirror!” “Oh! God! No! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! Don’t show it to anyone – I’ll do anything! Anything!” “Well lets see now!” he put his hand to his jaw and made out that he was thinking. “Anything?” As he said it he looked questioningly at me. “Yes anything – just please don’t show it!” My voice was squeaking like a girl. “Well Charlotte I think I would first of all like you to finish what you started – get yourself made up properly and put Rachael’s dress on from last night. Then, put some jewellery on and come downstairs to listen to some music with me!” “Bbbut! Y’could take even more photographs of me then – promise you won’t. Promise just promise that you won’t and that if I do what you ask -you’ll give me that photo back.” “OK Charlotte here’s the deal - do as I ask and I’ll give you this photo back now. When you come downstairs though, you really must look your best; nail varnish the lot, or I tell everyone at school that I caught you dressing in my s****r clothes – even without the photo they’ll believe me rather than you.” He held the photo out to me and I reached out to take it but as I did so he pulled it back. “Now promise Charlotte or there’s no deal!” What choice did I have and, much to my surprise, now that someone knew I was beginning to think ‘Oh! What the hell!” “OK I promise.” I expected Paul to hang on the picture but he didn’t – he gave it to me straight away. I looked at it and thought about tearing it up but I looked so good even without make-up that I just held it looking at it. “One and half hours Charlotte; then I will see you downstairs and you better look the business or I tell Spencer!” Les Spencer was the biggest bully in the school – Paul was a pussycat in comparison – the thought that Spencer would have this over me produced a shudder down my spine. So once Paul had gone and I set about getting making myself as good as I could. I began to reason that he was probably going to tell whatever and that if I was going to be hung out to dry I might as well have some enjoyment first. Equally, he might stick to his word. I decided to go for it in a big way so I took the shoes and stockings off. On Rachael’s dressing table there was a mass of make-up, nail varnish, rings, necklaces etc. I set to work with the nail varnish on my toes – bright sexy red. Then I found some heated rollers and switched them on - I had used my mum’s a couple of time when she was out to make my hair look a bit more feminine and had been amazed with the results. I had showered and washed my hair that morning so it was ready to go up on rollers. Then I started on my face following my oft repeated imaginings of how I would do it if I ever got a chance. I smoothed some foundation over blending it carefully so as not to leave any ‘tide-marks’. There were some false eyelashes lying on the top and after some hunting I found some glue. It took me a while to get the knack but if nothing else I have tremendous perseverance. While I was fiddling trying to get them in place I took a break and put the rollers in my hair. When I came back to try again they went on perfectly! Some eye-shadow and eyeliner and I could see that the effect was amazing as I admired myself in the mirror. Paul’s voice shouted from downstairs - “45 minutes Charlotte or you are in trouble!” At this point I thought I heard Paul go to the front door but decided that I must have been mistaken. ‘bl**dy-hell I must get on; time is running out.’ Right! No some mascara then some fine powder pressed on from a compact that had been left open on the dressing table. I spent a bit of time outlining my lips with a lip pencil before applying a sexy pink lipstick. I found a large brush and swept some blusher over my cheeks as I had see done by Sarah. A glance in the mirror and ‘wow’ I was really looking the business now. I put the stockings back on and picked up an ankle chain that I had noted earlier; this I attached around my right ankle. I looked down at it and my prick shot out from under the knickers standing to attention. ‘Shit!’ I pushed it back but my God it hurt as I tucked it away. I reached over for the black and white print dress that had been abandoned on the floor I slid it over my head. It was almost a perfect fit although I had to struggle with the zip but after some contortions I managed to get it up to the top. There was a black belt that went with it and I fastened that looking in the mirror to again admire myself. A voice boomed from below, “35 minutes you tart!” I think to myself ‘No it’s OK I am actually on schedule!’ I take out the hair rollers and brush my hair in a girly fashion – Looking in the mirror all the time, ‘Oh! My! GOD!’ I really do look like a girl! Now some hairspray just to give it a bit of volume. The transformation was practically complete. Then out of curiosity I opened Rachael’s wardrobe door; to my excitement I see a pair of black platform sandals with a 2” Platform and 6” heels – ‘I’m wearing those!’ I say to myself. I have them on in a couple of minutes and practice walking around – now what else? I throw a necklace over my head and find a couple of bangles for my wrists. There were some huge gold hooped earrings but they were for pierced ears. By careful squeezing I made the gap just slightly smaller and then they could be positioned over my ear lobes just slightly gripping the flesh. ‘Oh! No!’ my finger nails. I don’t have time to paint them do I? Fortunately, Rachel has some stick-on false nails lying all over the place and I find the glue and stick them on. “5 Minutes or you’re done for!” Paul’s voice again from below makes me quake a bit. ‘OK! OK!’ Here we go. I look once more in the mirror – ‘what a babe!’ What I see is a young blonde in a black and white dress in exceptionally high heels looking ready to go on a dtae I pick up a clutch handbag, squirt some perfume over me and sashay out of the room walking really amazingly well in the shoes. The stairs are a bit of a problem but I manage by hanging on to the handrail for grim death. At the bottom I pull myself up straight and walk as sexily as I can into the lounge. “As promised I’m here….Whaat the! Oh! My God …!” My voice dries to a croak; sitting in the lounge are Paul, Spencer and a guy who is Spencer’s friend named McLean! There is a round of applause and laughter! Spencer leers at me and says, “You were bl**dy right Paul he makes a bl**dy good tart – some good shagging to be had with the little bitch I reckon!” I burst into tears, “Paul you bastard! You…! You… and I had a deal!” “I gave you the photo back. I made no other promise other than to say I would not tell anyone at school – I haven’t!” “How could you – you fuckin’ bastard! – You tricked me – I am not stying here I’m getting out of this stuff and going home!” Spencer had been watching and listening with a big grin on his face but now the grin vanished as he growled at me, “Oh! No! You don’t you fuckin’ little fag – not unless you want a good beating as well as us letting your parents know what you get up to – not to mention everyone at school!!” “You better do what we tell you otherwise it could be very unpleasant Charlotte!” Paul’s voice sounded remarkably cool and authoritative. “What do you mean?” I replied in a very shaky voice. “We can make your life hell at school or we could leave you alone – it all depends on how compliant you are – if you get my drift?” This was Bill McLean – also sounding reasonable and measured. Spencer growled at me, “In other words tart; do as you are fuckin’ told like all fuckin’ women should do, and we may be persuaded that keeping you to give us a bit of pleasure now and then is worth not tellin’ anyone! Geddit?” “Buuut you’ll just tell everyone any way won’t you?” I was now almost sobbing like a little girl. “Well that’s a risk you’ll have to take babe!” responded McLean. “What do you want me to do?” I said fearfully. “Well, as a start, you can go and get us all a fuckin’ beer from the fridge – but bring them in on a tray like a proper maid would and be quick about it!” Paul laughingly replied. I tottered out the heels, my head reeling – ‘what the hell was I going to do? – What would they make me do? Could I escape perhaps? I found a tray, went over to the fridge and took out three cans of beer and put it on the tray; all the time glancing about for inspiration. The backdoor caught my eye and I went over to see what was outside. The door was locked and there was no key. I suspected the same was true of the front door – I was trapped. This had all been thought through – it was no accident that Spence and McLean were here. I walked back to the lounge with the tray of beers and found them all sitting watching a porn video. The girl in the video was being fucked by two guys – one in her mouth the other in her fanny. I had never seen a porno video then and I stood rooted watching this girl moan and writhe in pleasure. “Put the bl**dy beers down on the coffee table and sit down here Charlotte.” As Paul made this command he made space between him and Les Spencer on the settee. “We are just getting some ideas about what we are going to do to you!” At this point there was a lot of laughter and ribald comment. I bent over to put the tray down and I felt a hand slide up the back of my stockinged legs and a then feel my bottom. I froze, let out a little squeal, and realised that I was now their piece of meat and that before too much longer I would have to perform like the girl in the video. She was gurgling as a large cock was being f***ed down her throat – this was something I had heard about but had never seen. My eyes were riveted to the screen as I watched her gag and splutter. “I told you to sit down!” I sat. As I sat my dress rode up revealing my knees and thighs. Hands found my legs and my dress was pushed up further to reveal my stocking tops and suspenders. “Watch and learn tart!” said Paul I watched as the girl let the men fuck her and made her suck them – I was fascinated that she would let men do what they were doing to her but she seemed to love it. Every so often she would look at the camera her face writhing in ecstasy. All the time the guys were touching and feeling me: “Great fuckin’ legs aren’t they?” This was Spencer who, at this stage, had both his hands on my thighs rubbing and caressing them. “Yeh! Much better than most of the girls at our school – she’s much better looking than those fuckin’ dogs!” the compliment came from McLean who was unbuttoning his jeans. “No! Bill – let her do that – that’s what she’s there for!” This was Paul, “Come on my darlin’ Charlotte get his dick out it needs licking and sucking!” Oh! My! GOD – I have to lick his penis – I shuddered but knew I had little or no choice. I was horrified, not just because it was gross but because I was getting aroused – my prick was engorging. This did not go unnoticed by Spencer, who remarked, Look at the whore! She’s getting turned on boys!” The others laughed and some hands went around my head and f***ed it towards Bill’s crotch. “Go on! Get his old man out and let’s see if you are going to make a really good tart!” This was Spencer who was holding my head having turned me over towards McLean. I reached over to Bill’s jeans and started to unbutton them. His penis was straining in his boxers and just a gentle pull on them at the top caused it to spring out. I took hold of the growing prick which was warmer than I would have imagined and very hard; I could smell male cock; slightly tinny smell and giving off some muskiness. My mouth opened and his flesh entered my mouth; My head was f***ed towards it and I opened my mouth. The cockhead went in and I started to suck and lick it like the girl in the video. The appalling thing was – I liked it! What’s more they knew I liked it. During all this time there had been flashes and I knew another photos had been taken; these would show me with my face close to a guy’s groin unbuttoning his trousers while his dick jutted out inches from my face then with his member in my lipstick frosted mouth. Great! Just great! Les Spencer growled at me, “Start sucking it real good babe unless you want a slap!” McLean was moaning softly, “Oh! Fuckin’ hell, Oh! God! Oh God! Paul had got his cock out and was now proffering it to me and I pulled back from McLean, grabbed Paul’s rampant member with my other hand and pushed it into my mouth; wanking McLean as I did so. I felt Spencer’s hands sliding up the inside of my legs and thighs pushing them apart as he, surprisingly quite gently, stroked and caressed and occasionally kissed my stockinged legs. I began to moan softly and this, almost in itself, seemed to make them even more aroused. I felt myself roll over onto my knees and part my legs in a position of subjugation to these randy teenage boys. Paul moved around behind me and Spencer took his place. I reached out and grabbed the zipper on Spencer’s jeans as he unbuckled his belt. I reached into his boxers and felt the snake inside pulling it out and over the top of pants. His cock was the biggest by far and I gasped as it popped out towards my open mouth. The foreskin, in particular, had gone further back than with the other two and the purple bell end, moistened with pre-cum, made contact with my tongue. I greedily pulled my tongue back and down bringing his swollen member into my mouth and I gagged as it made contact with my throat. “Mmerrgh! Oooh! Errgh!” I grunted as he tried to f***e it further into my throat. I pushed him back with an explosion of coughing and retching but as soon as I had my breath back he went into my mouth again. All this time Paul had been licking my legs and his tongue had found the crack of my bum. He slid the knickers to one side and sniffed at the crotch area - I arched my back and he tried to slip his fingers into my anus. “She’ll be tight! Get some butter or something?” suggested Spencer. Paul nipped out to the kitchen and came back with a tub of spreadable butter and a candle; while he was doing so McLean took over the onslaught of my mouth and throat with his member. I tried to turn away as I felt a good handful of the butter being smeared over my little puckered rose and the candle used to push it inside my rectum. Resistance was pointless since Spencer had moved down to my hands and had tied them with his trouser belt; this was a canvas affair and he was using the buckle to tighten it around my wrists. When I managed to gasp for air I was whimpering in a very girly voice, “Please no! No! Not my arsehole guys – I can’t take it – Please!!” Paul shouted at me, “You’ll take what you’re given you fuckin’ whore – look how easy it’s going in guys!” Spencer and McLean peered over as Paul thrust the candle in and I squealed. “That went in too easy – you had cock in there before you slut?” Spencer was leering at my face as he said it. “You better not have any diseases!” “No! No!” I protested “Just a candle honest!” “Well let’s see if your training has done any good,” said Paul; “Spread your fuckin’ legs!” I spread them further and I felt the candle being pulled out. Then to my horror Paul’s cockhead was pushed against my hole and I felt my sphincter give a little. He repositioned the tip of his knob and tried again. After a couple of attempts I felt my arsehole give, then the fullness in my rectum as his cock slid into me. It hurt slightly but I was so turned on by being penetrated I just gave in and it was at that point; I held my breath – and then I knew I had crossed a line – I had become by my submission, in that instant of time, another individual. “Fuckin’ give it to her hard the bl**dy slut!” Spencer spat the words out (and he had again said ‘she’) as Paul pulled back and then thrust himself against me. I let out another squeal - more of pleasure than of pain - and I thrust my arse back towards him so that his groin slapped against the cheeks of my bum. He penetrated me up to the hilt of his cock and I could feel his hairy balls on my shaven skin. “I knew she was up for this, I just bl**dy knew!” said Paul as he grasped my waist and started to pump at me with a regular rhythm. Spencer and McLean were taking it in turns to try and fuck my throat but I started to gag when their pricks hit the back of my mouth. They were getting a bit frustrated at not getting their pricks in deep when Paul said, “’Ere you two let me show you the best way to fuck a girls throat!” With that he pulled out of my hole which let out a sloppy farting noise, much to the guys’ amusement, as he did so. “You fuck her Spencer!” Paul hissed as he turned me over onto my back then he commanded me to bring my legs backwards and he grabbed hold of my ankles pulling my knees into my chest. My head fell over the side and end of the sofa and Paul’s prick made contact with my lips; I shut my mouth tight knowing that his ‘thing’ had just been up my shit pipe. “Open up Charlotte or you’ll get a good slappin’!” Paul’s voice had a very threatening edge and so I very reluctantly opened my mouth; Pauls’ cock slid in and I tasted my first ‘arse-to-mouth’ prick. It wasn’t as bad as I thought – although that might have been the taste, in part, of the butter. Simultaneously, Spencer had put his member against my hole and it just opened up and his rampant penis slid in causing me to howl in pleasure and pain. This let Paul push a bit harder and holding my head down to make a straighter line, his penis went down my throat. I spluttered and coughed but Paul started to fuck my throat – as he pulled back and out of my mouth I gasped for air; trying to plead with him to stop as I held my hands against his groin trying weakly to push him away. He just kept on pounding away – and I loved it. McLean grabbed my restrained hands and pulled them away from Paul and then over the top of the backs of my thighs and as he did so I could see his erect prick waggling inches away from my face just within my line of vision. Meanwhile Spencer was grunting like a boar in heat as he thrust backwards and forwards; every so often he would enter me right up to his balls and hold himself in whilst he licked my legs. Then he would pull right out and re-enter me; my little rosebud having now started to gape in a way that I would not have though possible. It popped and farted and my legs shook slightly as waves of pleasure began to engulf me. McLean now replaced Paul in my mouth and oesophagus – he was slightly smaller in width but maybe an inch and a half longer – this kinda made it slightly easier but the extra length meant I had to wait for breaths for longer than I had done before. Paul took several more photographs during this period but by now I was too far gone to care; beside which what could I do? Spencer decided that he wanted to fuck my throat so he pulled out and my arsehole let out another wet and sloppy plop. “Look at that arsehole gape!” said McLean, “I think she could do a DP!” I wasn’t sure what a ‘DP’ was but I was manoeuvred to stand up and turn around sitting down on Paul’s erect dick and then bent backwards over his chest. His prick slid in without too much trouble but I was concerned to see McLean positioning himself to enter my man pussy with his dick as well! He pushed my legs back over again towards my head and then I felt him at my entrance – with some more butter smeared around my hole and over his cock it was only a question of time before it went in. This hurt more than anything else but both he and Paul banged away at me giving me no time to protest. Paul held me tightly to him and my head fell naturally backwards and by the side of his. He was kissing my ear and telling me how gorgeous I was! Spencer’s cock found my mouth and he pushed in hard making me squeal and gag – there was no getting away and he was soon fucking my throat with a ‘chocky-chocky’ sound. When I managed to get a breath I could see my stockinged legs wrapped around McLean’s waist, the dark chocolate nylons terminating in those fabulous shoes, the ankle chain sparkling as each thrust of the guys caused it to catch the light and I just knew this was what I always had wanted and, more importantly, needed. Waves of pleasure were passing through me as I marvelled at these three boys being turned on by little old me! “Ooh My God! Fuck I’m coming!” This was McLean whose back was arching – almost at once he shot his load inside my rectum then pulling his cock out as it spurted for a third and fourth time over my arsehole and Paul’s cock. Paul continued to pump away for a minute or so when Spencer let out an enormous grunt and I felt jets of jizz spurting over my lips, nose and chin. Two spurts hit my left eye and I was temporarily blinded. My own prick gave a spurt and soaked the inside of the knickers – this was too much for Paul who also let go and I thought I felt some warmth in my arsehole and then squirts of semen hit the area just below my man pussy. Paul pushed me off him and grabbed the camera taking several shots of my semen covered face and tongue. Spencer had come in what seemed like a pint as it slid down my face, bubbled out of my mouth and dripped off my chin. Paul got Spencer and McLean to pull my legs back over my head and, as he took a photo of my little rosebud I farted out his and McLean’s cum. I felt the liquid run down the crack of my bum – there seemed to be gallons of the stuff! It ran down the top of my leg and soaked into the stockings and dripped down between my legs. We all lay there – me whimpering slightly. After about two minutes or so Spencer released me from his belt handcuffs and made me stand up then kneel where the spunk and p*o had dribbled on to the sofa. “Lick it clean Charlotte or I’ll tell my dad whose arse it came out of!” Paul said breathlessly. I did as I was told – actually when I had finished apart from a damp patch it was all cleaned away. “Right you whore you’ve had your lunch - go and make us a sandwich and get us a beer for ours – NOW!” This was Spencer of course. “Yes sir” I whimpered and sidled out to the kitchen to do as I was told – because that’s what us girls do isn’t it?
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