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A Middle-class Girl's Journey - Part 2

A Middle-class Girl's Journey series story
Heavy, M, Real Life, Consensual

Crazy time.

The following months I must admit I went a little crazy the first time I did was have my hair cut short in a pageboy like style which really upset my father which was nothing compared to how upset he was a few days later when I bleached it blonde with the aid of Susan and Hanna. We were out every weekend Friday and Saturday night and if I got drunk which I always did, plus I always said yes and I wasn’t fussy which made me very popular. Even Alistair my married man from the rubbish tip got his cock sucked one night in the gents’ toilets and had me bent over a dustbin a few times. The same toilets I may add that Susan fucked him in a few weeks later just to go one stage further after he’d told her what a great cock sucker I was.

One Saturday lunchtime I was with my mother in a local café above a shop which sold cooked chicken, meats and cheeses.  It was a popular place not expensive but not cheap either and always full with nice middle-class ladies and a lot of older ones with blue hair. I noticed the cook or “Chef” as he liked to call himself, he was tall with dark hair and a looker and he knew it. He smiled at me from behind the hatch into the kitchen and he smiled at me again at The Cave that night walked over to me and asked me if I’d “like to see his kitchen” we never got to the kitchen because after the short walk to the café he fucked me on or over the table. He told me that there were 35 tables in the café and he was going to fuck me on each of them, one each time. If he was in The Cave, he’d take me to the café and add another table to the list.

Married, single or engaged it didn’t matter to me why the hell should it if the guy was married that was up to him, not me. I just wanted his cock not his kids, his wife could have those. My first “affair” with a married man was with a guy in his mid-thirties with a bubble perm and a mustache that made him look like Tom Selleck which was quite deliberate everybody called him Mickey but his real name was Harold and he was a plumber but he was gorgeous. I was pissed one night and he drove me home in his van and of course “Serviced my boiler” on the way. He had a strong firm body and a huge cock he gave me my first orgasm from being fucked. I also had my first threesome with him and Susan in his marital bed. What a stud he fucked me first with his fingers inside Susan then her with his fingers up me.
We had a few of threesomes with him the second one introduced Susan and me to lesbian sex well at least it did her as I realise now my sister did that for me, hindsight is a wonderful thing. After fucking each of us as before he told us he’d be able to get it up again if we put on a little show for him. We started off kissing each other and ended up in a 69 and it did work he did get it up harder than ever. The next time we started out with Susan and I doing our little show for him and repeating it at “half time” which never failed to have the desired effect on him seeing us both suck his spunk from each other. Men being men and this one is both vain and boastful news of which soon spread much to our embarrassment. One night during a “lock-in” at the pub we all used a guy dared us to “lick each other out” and we were both so drunk as lords and we said we would for £20 and whip-round soon followed we took off our skirts first I got in front of Susan and pulled her gusset to one side and licked her then she did the same for me but I didn’t have knickers on. By this time, I’d fucked half the men there so they had seen it all before or at least felt it. We ended up once more in a 69 then Susan disappeared behind the bar and I didn’t see her until the next day. She ended up in a threesome with the landlord and his wife and I can’t remember how I got home or who fucked me on the way, I do remember the comments about my arse with some pride, it did look rather good even if I did say so myself. Susan commented that the next time we should ask for more than we did say £20 each the next time we did it and we did.
A few nights later Alison told me that her boyfriend who was also in the building trade had heard that Susan and I had put on a “Lessie” show in the pub and wanted to know if it was true? She was quite indignant about it when I told her it was true and even more so when I told her we were both drunk. My irate little sister told me that “You have to be more careful people will think you are a slut and how long do you think it will be before Dad finds out? Then you will be in it.” She was right of course but at that stage, I didn’t care and told her just that. Alison’s response was to tell me to “Come over and do it to me” and I was happy to oblige she was a lot less hairy than Susan.
I’d not heard from or even thought about Toby and Steve for some weeks as out of sight was out of mind and my little lecture from my now 13-year-old sister had made me put the brakes on never turning a fuck down. I think that a conversation, if you can call it that, I overheard when waiting for Susan one night, between a couple of men I hardly knew about Susan and I also played a part. We were described as a “couple of slags, Eveready, Martini girls anytime any place any hole.” One said he’d “Had that Susan up her arse bent over a car bonnet at the side of the library she sucked my cock after” maybe he did I couldn’t remember but it was a place I’d been taken (in both senses) a lot of times. The other one asked I may have been a sexual partner “Susan is that the small fat one or the blonde slag with the arse?” they both laughed. I found the rest of the conversation a bit humiliating I could have got up and walked away but for some reason, I couldn’t nor could I turn around and didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything to Susan either when she arrived, late as always.
I remember that night well for a number of reasons mainly for that overheard conversation and secondly because what happened at the bus stop outside as we waited for the bus to arrive and take us into Town and another Friday night at The Cave. The now drunk guys whose conversation I’d overheard who had clearly been drinking since the afternoon as they were still in their overalls or whatever builders wear, started to talk to us. At first, they were just saying hello but after a while, they were being very crude and calling us names because they thought they had the right to do whatever they liked and say whatever they wanted to a “Couple of whores” like us. One elderly gentleman who was clearly offended told them to “Please moderate their language” only to be threatened with a kicking and one of them kicked his shopping bag into the road. Susan told them to “Grow up and leave us alone” only for one of them to grab her hair and almost lift her off her feet.
That was when I first ever heard him speak, oh I’d seen him about and I knew who he was, everybody knew who he was but I’d never heard his voice until then, the first word I heard out of his mouth was “If you don’t let go of that lady and take your hands off her, I am going to break your arm and then your legs.” Not in a raised voice or in a threatening manner but in the same way you’d ask somebody to “Please pass the salt.” The one who had hold of Susan turned to face this person who had threatened him with a real expression menace on his face and venom in his voice. “You’ll fucking do what you fucking” his question was cut short when he realised who he was talking to. He let go of the now screaming Susan and turned and walked away first slowly and then in a trot to catch his friend who was already 30 yards away and they both walked away quickly and then ran.
Our knight in shining armour stood 5’6½” tall weighed in at not an ounce over 11stone (154 pounds) and had just scared the hell out of not one but two huge builders. The reason was simple and went back to a headline that was all over the National and local News Papers I remember it oh so well “Karate fighter kills opponent” which took place in an international tournament between England and Scotland in Leicester. Later on, the inquest would reveal that the poor guy who was “killed” died of a heart attack and it wasn’t anybody’s fault but mud sticks as they say.  One of my brothers knew him from school although my brother was in his first year there when he was in his last one there and often used to tell a story about how some boy from his year had tried to hit our hero with a house brick and how it was taken off him and they all witnessed our savior head butting the brick in half. His name was Indris Hughes but everybody called him Ian and was not famous for his sense of humour or speaking much. Susan said he was a cross between Bruce Lee and Attila the Hun and not to be messed with because he didn’t give a shit. Later on, I’d find this statement not to be true at all he did care about a lot of things, he just hid it well.
My god though he was a looker alright with his jet-black hair the deepest brown eyes I’d ever seen and the Mediterranean looks, Susan instantly thought he was in love with her of course. Later at The Cave Susan went around telling anybody who would listen to her what had happened and how he must have fancied her, typical. I was more concerned about the conversation I’d overheard and told myself that was the last time I’d be going out until my “A” levels were over.

I was on the way out when one of the bouncers stopped me to help me on with my coat, he told he Susan had told him what had happened and that he’d ban the two guys as he knew who they were, which I thought was nice. He also told me that Susan was convinced our rescuer had done it because he was secretly “in love with her” typical of the stupid deluded cow. Desmond, the bouncer knew him from the local karate club and had done for years he told me that first of all she was mad and secondly Ian was in fact engaged not that he saw him much because the man was now in the Royal Marines and had been for a couple of years, which was something I didn’t know. I made some remark about them making him a killing machine; very tongue in cheek only for Desmond to say to me “Bit late for that honey” which I thought was funny and it made me smile.

I was still smiling to myself when my arm was gripped hard and there was Steve who told me to “Get your fucking arse in the van you fucking slag I want a fucking shag” it was Toby’s van but he wasn’t driving there were nine others in that van, I would have been better off with those builders. First, it was in the back of the van than in some awful flat it was none stop until they one by one sobered up or fell asleep. I tried at one point to sneak out but was dragged back by my hair and slapped about creaming. Steve produced his Polaroid and snapped away often to order “Get one of her sucking my cock” or I was told to do this or lean that way the most popular was “I want one of me up her arse” they all wanted that one.
This was the first night I didn’t manage to get home, in fact, I didn’t see home until the afternoon the next day. Lucky for me I had friends who would cover for me and tell my parents I was with them all night and Hanna’s sister who lied and said I was there to help Hanna get over being dumped. When I did go home it was via Hanna’s so I could take a bath and she could wash and iron my clothes which were in a real mess. I told her all about what had happened and she was all for ringing the police which would have been a disaster for me the daughter of a bank manager which was still held in high regard at that time. I got a long lecture from her reminding me that she had told me that Toby was dangerous and I’d ignored her. Which was all true the fact came out I wasn’t even on the pill and her jaw almost hit the ground.
Afterward Hanna drove me home and asked my father ever so politely if “Susan could stay at the farm with her the rest of the weekend, please I really need her right now” before my father could answer my mother did “Of course Hanna just you remember there are plenty more fish in the sea” how true, how true. Although both Toby and Steve rang for me over the week I stayed at Hanna’s all week she had her own place above one of the barns complete with everything you’d want to be built as a granny flat although her granny never stepped foot in it. I was driven in and out of school and just as well because we saw the dreaded van parked outside several times. My mother told me “Your boyfriend has rung for you again Susan you had a fallout as well?” I told her it wasn’t my boyfriend but the boy who had dumped Hanna and the next time he rang she slammed the phone down on him.

After a week the calls ended but I did get a letter postmarked Durham lucky for me my Mum didn’t open it as she insisted in opening all the mail that came, you lived in her house she opened your mail. Just as well she didn’t this time because inside were a dozen photos of me with various cocks in various holes all carefully chosen to make me look from my facial expression, I loved every second of it. The oddest thing sprung into my head in some I was clearly in pain but my face looked as if I was in ecstasy. There was no note no threat of any kind implied or otherwise but the message was clear and understood.

As the winter term was in full flow I only went out once a week and at our favorite watering home and the scene of Susan’s and my little “show” I met Alan who was slim dark and 36-year-old divorcee who drove a little green sports car and who lived at home with his mother. Alan wined and dined me took me to nice places and away for the weekend (I was staying at Hanna’s I told them) he was a great dresser and looked after me even my parents liked him when I made him the first “boy” I ever took home. I didn’t venture to The Cave with him it was country pubs and into Leicester to a night club. We always ended up at his mother’s house with her asleep upstairs and I never saw the inside of his bedroom, which a saw had his name on the door when I used to loo “Alan's Room” it said.  Alan liked to make me strip naked telling me what to take off and a certain order and I’d always end up with my feet on the floor, shins against the front of an armchair bent over gripping the back of it. I’d have to wait for him to tell me to move my feet and I would place them apart until he told me to stop.
Then he’d fuck me moving slowly and going from hole to hole telling me to be quiet if I groaned which I did if he was in my pussy as I still really hated anal sex. Not making noise was a problem for me I’d never had to be quiet before and had learned in the back of that van, making more noise makes them cum faster and I could get it over with. I loved the way he spoke to me all the way through telling me how good it was and what a nice tight arse I had and what a great fuck I was. One night he told me to kneel, knees on the sofa and to lower my head down and open them as wide as I could. First, I left him pushing a finger then two and then a third into me he rubbed my clitoris telling me to rock backward and I did. Then the fourth one with his other hand he was pulling at my lips and he told me he was going to get his hand in I felt him turn his hand and he was fully inside me; I was being fisted. It hurt me more than anything I’d experienced before but he rolled his wrist and moved backward and forward and the pain was immense so was the pleasure. I reached behind and felt his wrist he was fully inside me I groaned in pain and was told to “Bite the pillow” how strange. My orgasm was huge when it came and I squirted all over him and the sofa and I was embarrassed pulling his hand out of me he told me to stand and he bummed me hard.

I saw Alan almost exclusively for a few months I asked him why he always wanted to “do it” in the same position and over that part of the sofa. He told me that one day he’d tell me but I’d have to earn it which I didn’t get at all. One day over a meal he asked me if it was true, I’d had sex with a woman, somebody had told him I was bisexual saying it was OK if I was. I told him that “No I wasn’t bisexual Susan and I did it got a laugh, that’s all” he smiled. Later he told me his sister was a lesbian so he was fine with bisexuality and if I was, he may even like it, I told him I wasn’t.

Later after a bottle and a half of red wine, I was naked my familiar position having taken him in the pussy I was expecting to be bummed as normal. (Such an odd thing to call it isn’t it “bummed” something we used to call it at school, Susan using it the most “Oh he bummed me last night I am so sore” yes very odd.) I felt something being pushed into my bum and he told me to relax but it was odd and cold and not nice. The fact that my weight was all on my hands gripping the back of the sofa, meant I couldn’t easily move or transfer my weight and stand up. “Put your head down stick your arse up,” he told me and then I felt wet but then warm sensation inside my body. Alan had put a tube into my anus and was pouring something down it; he was giving me an enigma, not only that but he was using neat Vodka. The effects on an already drunk person of alcohol introduced directly into the bowl and cutting out the stomach is that it is instigated almost an instant state of utter intoxication as the drink is adsorbed straight away.
I was aware of what was going on but only just and I was totally unable to do anything about it. I was also aware I was being kissed and how soft the kisses were and the mouth on my pussy I could hear myself moaning with a total disregard to “Mother” in bed. Not for the first time in that room, I was being fisted this time on my back it hurt less this time until it speeded up but I didn’t mind or care. Then I was on my hands and knees being fisted at one end and sucking cock at the other too drunk as I was to realise, I was there must be two people. The fisting made me cum and my hair was being pulled to stop my screams. I lay in a puddle of my own cum face down with Alan bumming me my hands flat by my sides to drunk and tried to move once he’d cum I was left to sleep. That is how “Mother” found me in the morning only a few hours after. The light was turned out on she found me naked face down in a wet mess of my own cum and with her son’s dried spunk all over me. I woke to her pulling me by the hair and screaming at me to “Get out of my house you whore” I dressed with her hitting me and got the hell out still drunk.
I spoke to Alan later in the morning he asked to see me and take me to lunch and I agreed. He took me to a pub near a local beauty spot with a huge car park next to it well known to courting couples shall we say. I wasn’t too pleased with him and I told him so I also knew we weren’t alone and demanded to know who the other man was. He smiled his disarming and knowing smile at me and told me “It wasn’t a man it was my sister” I could not believe my ears. He’s told me she was a lesbian and he told me I’d have to earn the reason he always fucked me in the same place and I had. The reason he told me was that he used to sneak downstairs and watch his Dad fucking his Mother in the same place when he came home drunk on a Friday and Saturday night. As for his sister I wasn’t complaining about it the night before as I’d cum like an express train all over the carpet and he’d like to take me to meet her after we’d eaten. As for “Mother”, she didn’t want me in the house anymore and there was nothing he could do about it.

I hadn’t realised what a mummy’s boy he was and to share me with his sister, looker or not I told him what I thought of him and he just sat there and smiled at me over the table. He told me his sister liked me and wanted to see me again and I told him he and his sister could both “Fuck off” which made him laugh out loud I let him take me home and decided I wouldn’t see him anymore and told him so. It took me just a week to go back on my word when he turned up at my house in a new Cortina, so much for my will of iron. I never saw his sister again at least I don’t think I ever did because I wouldn’t recognise her if I had so you never know we could have been in line at the supermarket and only she would have known.

As the year grew into December, I knew that when I should be getting ready for Christmas which I had always loved and expecting cards in the post I was in fact worried about getting more photos of myself and the arrival of my two tormentors and was worried. I was right to be worried after reading that the local rugby club would be “Strengthened by their England heroes” over the Christmas period meaning Toby and Steve would be back. Hanna said she had the solution and told me that the three of us (Susan as well) would stick together like glue and we would take our men with us at all time over the holidays and that way the gruesome twosome wouldn’t bother me. One problem I didn’t have a steady boyfriend but that was no problem because Hanna would lend me her nephew Alex who was a really nice guy who was also at University and was going to be a Vet.

To be continued

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