All of my stories include descriptions of sex scenes that could cause offence to some people. Please do not read this story if you are offended by perverse sexual material, or if you are under the legal age of consent for your own country. These stories are pure fiction and are not based on anyone living or deceased.
Well I guess if you’re reading this you have probably already read part one of my story, and know how I suddenly, at the age of twenty-three became aware of how wonderful sex can be. If you haven’t read part one, then a lot of this story might not make any sense. Right, so where had I got to? The ‘rescuers’ had now departed from my life, and for my part, I hoped and prayed, that I’d never see or hear from any of them again.ÂÂ
>I showered, and then dressed, and for the first time, I wore jeans to go to work, mainly to avoid anyone seeing the marks on my inner leg. Silly now I come to think of it, the marks were from about a couple of inches above my knee, right up to my crotch, all the way up my inner leg. So with the skirts I normally wore for work being fully flared, and always at least knee length, there wouldn’t have been much chance of anyone seeing the marks anyway.
But regardless, dressed in jeans and blouse, I said bye to Michael who was just getting up, and set off to work. As normal when I arrived, I opened up the farm shop, and turned on the bell. On the door jamb of the farm shop was a bell press, and there was also a rubber tube laid across the entrance to the farm yard. Both of these were connected to bells that were located in most of the buildings around the farm yard. So I’d know if any vehicles arrived; or if people call to the shop on foot, they could ring for attention using the push-button.
As customers only ever started coming in dribs and drabs until lunch time, and then again around four in the afternoon, the rest of the time I had various other tasks to get on with. Egg collecting being normally my first, so once the bell was turned on, I picked-up my egg collecting basket and went on my rounds.
I searched around all the places I knew they normally laid their stray eggs, ending up at the chickens own properly made roost. Then with my basket full to overflowing, I carefully made my way back to the shop. We’d had no customers while I’d been away, which was about normal for a Monday, so I then began to sort the eggs into their sizes.
I think it was around ten o’clock, when with all the eggs sorted; I took a walk into the potato shed. This was definitely not my favourite job. The potatoes were loaded by tractor into the first floor of this building, so from down here, the roof above my head was loaded with tons of potatoes. In the corner of this shed was a sack filling machine. This was old and like most things about this farm, due for replacement.
It was supposed to take the potatoes from above, into this big wooden box, and then through a chute, into the potato sack. The whole of this big wooden box was connected to a mechanical shaking device, which was driven by an electric motor. The chute had a closing flap that was operated manually with a very big long lever.
The theory was simple. First place an empty sack onto the chute, and wrap the metal retainer to hold it in place. Second, the motor needs to be turned on, so the big box vibrates, this not only keeps the potatoes from jamming, but helps to make the flap open easier. Next pull the lever, letting the potatoes into the sack. Then as the sack is filled, push the big lever back, stopping the potatoes.
But in practice, once this machine is left overnight, or worse still over a weekend, moving that lever is nigh on impossible. So there is a wooden beer crate stood on end by the side of the machine which you have to climb onto. Then leaning as far across the top of the machine as possible, and using the lump of wood that is always laid on top of the machine. You try to reach around behind the upper chute, and thump the lever pivot boss (well that’s what the farmer says it’s called; I just know it’s that lump of metal sticking out the other side of the machine).
So I approach this job knowing the first time I try to get that lever moving, I’m going to have a real struggle on my hands. I get a paper sack and attach it firmly to the chute, and then switch on the motor. The whole building starts to drone, and clouds of dust begin to float down from the timber boards that make the ceiling. I heave with all my weight against the lever, but as I expected, it doesn’t budge an inch.
So now for the dreaded ritual, I carefully climb onto the wooden crate, holding onto the side of the vibrating machine for support. I’ve done this hundreds of times before, but never before have I noticed the vibration being so intense. But I try to put that out of my mind, and I now lift my left leg across, placing my foot on the lever. Then I take hold of the lump of wood from the top of the machine, and holding it stretched out in front of me. I lean forwards onto the top of the machine, to attempt to get the pivot pin within my reach.
As my tummy presses against the machine, the vibrations start the same feelings generated by that device the men had inserted inside my pussy two days previous. Never before has this machine ever generated anything but feelings of sheer frustration and despair at my not being able to move the bloody lever. But now, before I’ve had chance to even strike out towards the pivot pin, my whole body is beginning to tingle.
I have to stand back, putting my leg back onto the box, but even the vibrations getting to me via my arms, which I’m using to balance with, are keeping this stimulation simmering. I decide it’s just my imagination, I must just have sex on the brain, all that is needed is a firm application of will-power. Ok, here goes!
I swing my leg back across to the lever, and lift myself up to my tip toes, and then slide myself as far as I can onto the top of the machine. Will-power or no will-power, my body lights-up with a glow, which emanates from deep in my crotch. My pussy is pulsing, my nipples are tingling, the bloody machine is driving my body out of control! And now to make things worse, my mind starts joining in the stimulation.
I guess you’re wondering what I mean by that. Well like I’ve said, this is not the first time I’ve been in this position. And I been perched up here bashing this lump of wood at the pivot pin for sometimes in excess of fifteen minutes. And on several of those occasions, either the farmer, one of his sons or one of his hired workers has suddenly appeared upon the box behind me. They have then lent across me, and tried to demonstrate where I should be hitting the machine.
Never in the past had I even given it a thought, that their leaning up against me, might be some kind of sexual turn-on for them (god! I must have been one green girl). And I’d never known or even considered that maybe these men might have been stood behind me for some time, looking up at my pathetic efforts. Whilst they viewed me with legs wide open, and them looking up from below.
But now, with the machine instructing my body to produce sexual hormones by the barrow load, my mind starts to wonder if maybe one of these men might be watching me. And maybe, he’ll have his cock in his hand, and be wanking it. And god forbid, any second now, he might jump up behind me, and ... I turn my head, and standing there is Ian! How the fucking hell has he found me here?
He speaks, “Excuse me, I rang the bell.â€Â
Now I realise it isn’t Ian at all, in fact its one of the men who lives in the local village, he’s a regular customer. I don’t know his surname, but I know him as Bob.
“Oh sorry Bob, it’s the noise of this bloody machine.â€Â
I’d just sworn out aloud, in front of an almost stranger! What was happening to me? I clambered off the machine, and followed Bob back into the shop.
“Sorry about that, but that flipping machine has been giving me a lot of trouble this morning.â€Â
But as I’m walking along, I can feel the wetness in my knickers, and I’m hoping that it hasn’t soaked through my jeans, meaning it would have been visible to Bob while I was on that machine back there.
“That’s alright Shirley love, I won't tell. Even a vicar's wife has to be allowed to swear once in a while. I guess you’re all on edge after your little adventure this weekend?â€Â
God! What the hell does he know about what those men did with me?
“Adventure?â€Â
“Yes, its all over the middle page of the news paper, looks like your husband put in a direct call to his boss for assistance, and you got a full mountain rescue crew. You were very lucky they chose the same spot as you, those fells can be treacherous in bad weather.â€Â
“Oh yes, I see what you mean. But it was only a fractured ankle.â€Â
“That’s the benefit of having professionals getting you down off the hills, if it had just been you or me assisting him, by the time we’d got him to the transport, his ankle could have been shattered.â€Â
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Anyway, what can I get you today?â€Â
I served him with potatoes and half-a-dozen eggs, and he went happily on his way. And one good thing about talking with him, it had taken my mind completely off sex. So much so, my tummy felt quite calm, and all my pussy felt was wet and sticky. But not wanting a repetition of the machine induced orgasm, I decided I’d go in search of whoever was doing milking duties today, to ask for assistance.
So my first place to look was the milking parlour, but as I’d expected, by now all milking was long since finished, and the place was hosed down and silent. I called a few times, but nobody answered. Then I looked in the first building, this was the stables, a very large building made to accommodate at least thirty horses. But it now only had three mares, and one large stallion. Now again, I’d seen these horses hundreds of times before and never have they had any sexual effect on me. Although if I’m being really honest, the first time I ever saw a stallion with an aroused cock, I froze to the spot, and stared in disbelief. But that was many years ago now, and never have I fantasised about having sex with a horse, and in truth, I hadn't even realised it was possible or something some women did.
But back to the present; as I looked around the door, the hind quarters of one of the mares was directly in line with where I stood. She was some five or six feet away, her tail high in the air, and her big pink pussy was pulsing, just like the men had mine doing yesterday. This simple natural farm-yard sight suddenly re-kindled my throbbing pussy. But instead of turning around and walking out, I stupidly walked the few paces along towards the stallions stall, to see if he had picked-up on the signals she was sending. Picked-up on them! Although from his stall he had no way of seeing her, her scent must have delivered her message. That magnificent cock was stretched out so long, it only just missed sweeping the cobbled floor as it kept lunging forwards and upwards, swinging back and forth with a vapour trail of steam following it.
I dashed out of there, as if the horse was about to take a hold of me, and stood at the outside of the door, trembling. It took a few seconds to pull myself together, and then I continue to the next building. But by now, my tummy was simmering, and I knew it would take very little to get me aroused again. I went from building to building, calling out in each one, but I got no response from anyone. Then when I had searched just about every building, and was about to make my way back to the shop, my attention was taken by the farm dogs. I know I hadn't mentioned that we had dogs on this farm, but that is because, after you’ve worked here some time, you don’t even notice them.
How many dogs there are on this farm I don’t know, as most of the fitter ones, normally either chase the tractors as they go off to the fields, or get a ride with one or other of the drivers in the cabs. The ones left around the yard are usually the older less fit, or young inexperienced ones. Well this is what had caught my attention, one of last years pups, a small mongrel bitch now about eighteen months old, was being fucked by and old black Labrador. I guessed it was her first time in season, as her comparative human age would be around ten or twelve. And the Labrador was a good nine years old, which would make him fifty plus.
I must have seen the farm dogs mating several times before, and I’d normally just turn my head and ignore them. But this time, it fascinated me, to watch how what was really the equivalent of a little girl, could stand her ground, while this Labrador twice her size, the equivalent of a big man with an enormous cock, pounded away at her. How long I stood there in a trance, just watching and getting more worked-up, I’m not sure. But the old dog had her at least three times, each time his knot preventing him from uncoupling. But my attention was suddenly broken by the cacophony of bells ringing in the various buildings, and announcing the arrival of a car into the yard.
I turned and made my way smartly towards the shop door, watching the car pull-up alongside one of the buildings, and thinking to myself, ‘don’t recognise the car, must be just a stranger passing through the village’. Then as the man got out of his car, it maybe took a second or two for it to click, but I had seen him before, and his return was far from welcome. It must have been four months ago, and last time, his car was a magnificent Bentley.
But even if the car was different, this was the same man who had come into the shop and asked for a tray of eggs, and a sack of potatoes. Now I know I can lift the sacks of potatoes, and usually do if the customer is a lady. But even if I do venture to lift a sack for most male customers, they invariably offer to carry it themselves.
Now I’m not saying he wasn’t welcome back because he didn’t offer to carry his own potatoes, although at the time I did think that very un-gentlemanly. But what he did was to carry his tray of eggs out to his car, leaving me to carry the heavy sack. He placed the eggs in his open boot (Trunk), at the very back of the floor space. Then as I approached carrying this heavy sack he said.
“Oh, make sure you get them right up to the front, I don’t want them rolling against my eggs.â€Â
His car was a big old Bentley, and the rear lip of the boot was very high. As I reached the back, I had to strain to get the sack over this rim, and then try to reach deep into his boot, leaning in with my feet almost leaving the ground. Not even thinking about him trying anything, I naturally had my legs parted to aid balance whilst lifting, and being a warm spring day, my skirt, though long, was made of thin material, and fully flared. All of a sudden I felt his hand ram under my crotch, and he gripped me tightly. I struggled, but in that position, he lifted, and my legs were left flailing in mid-air. I screamed out, but with my head buried deep inside his boot, and a deserted farmyard, it was pointless. As it was, another car arrived, and he had to let go of me.
When I got out of his boot I was so embarrassed, and blushing quite red. Stupidly, my first concern was to try to compose myself before the customer that had just arrived, noticed anything had happened. So with just a few words from me in the form of a scolding, the man got into his car and drove away. I had said if I ever saw him again I’d phone the police, but this all happened about a month before my marriage, so that was about four months ago now. And up until now, he hadn’t returned.
I was stood in the doorway, watching him, as he strode towards me, brazen as you like.
“Ah Ha. I knew it was you.â€Â
“What do you want? I told you never to come here again.â€Â
“What on earth do you mean? It’s a shop isn’t it?â€Â
“It might be, but it’s not open to you. You can get back in your car and go before I call the police.â€Â
“What ever for my dear?â€Â
“Don’t come the innocent with me; you know what you did last time you were here.â€Â
“Oh that. Surely you can't still be upset over that. I was only giving you a bit of a lift, to make sure you got the jolly old spuds past the eggs without breaking them.â€Â
“I don’t care what you say you were doing, if you don’t go now, I’m ringing the police.â€Â
“Well my dear, you be my guest. But I don’t think they’ll be very amused when they get out here, to find an innocent old gent like me who only wants to buy a few eggs.â€Â
With that he just sidestepped past me, and waltzed into the shop as cool as you like. I walked over to the phone, and picked up the receiver, but it was obvious, I wasn’t going to ring 999. And even as I thumbed through the phone book, looking for the number for the local police station, I began to realise I wouldn’t have any idea what to say to them. I put the phone back down.
“Ok. Tell me what you want, and then I can get you out of here.â€Â
“Shirley. That’s a nice name.â€Â
“Where on earth, who told you my name?â€Â
“It was in the paper, Shirley Grey. The wife of Reverend Michael Grey. I never knew that soft little pussy I had a hold of last time was a vicar’s wife’s pussy.â€Â
“Look stop your foul talk now, and go!â€Â
“But you haven’t served me yet.â€Â
“Ok then, what do you want?â€Â
He held his right arm towards me, his palm uppermost, in a cupping kind of shape.
“What I’d really like is a nice tender juicy piece of meat that would just fit into the palm of this hand.â€Â
And as he spoke, he was opening and closing his fingers in the same kind of gripping manner he’d taken hold of me last time he was here.
“You dirty old sod,†and with that I strode up to him, and took hold of his wrist, and began to pull him towards the door, “come-on, I want you out of here now. There’s no way I’m serving you.â€Â
I thought using direct action would take him by surprise, and even with my slight build, I’d hoped to be able to get him to leave. But he just swung me around and overbalanced me onto the stack of potato sacks. As I went down on my back, he followed, falling face down on top of me. One of his hands gathered up both of my wrists, whilst his other went into my crotch. At this point, the jeans were my saviour, meaning his groping fingers were not able to make contact with my flesh.
So whilst he groped, and was now struggling to unleash the belt in my jeans, I screamed and kicked with all my might. It was obvious in seconds, that shouting wouldn’t bring help, so I tried talking to him.
“Look you bastard. I might not have phoned the police last time, but if your hand goes inside my jeans, I’m phoning them for sure.â€Â
This distracted his concentration off the job he had in hand only slightly, undoing my belt that was, but didn’t stop him.
“Are you telling me it’s not worth a little feel, to stop your husband seeing the video you made this weekend?â€Â
I froze, my kicking stopped, and he just looked me in the face.
“Ah! So I’ve got your attention.â€Â
“What video?â€Â
“A video made by some mountain rescue men.â€Â
â€ÂLook pack-up undoing my belt; tell me what you know about a video.â€Â
He stopped undoing my belt, and knelt up a bit to talk to me.
“Ian Parker is an old mate of mine. He’s been doing this mountain rescue scam for a good five years now.â€Â
“You’ve seen it?â€Â
“No not yet. But he’s fucked everyone he’s helped down so far, and vicar’s wife or not, I’m betting you rode his cock like an obedient little whore.â€Â
“Even if that was true, why should I let you touch me?â€Â
“Do you want your hubby to know his wife is a slut?â€Â
“Shows how much you know. My husband knows what they did to me.â€Â
That was a stupid thing to tell him.
“So, they got the reverend in on the action, god that’s even better. So you want the whole parish to wake-up tomorrow morning, to find photo’s of you having a gang-bang. I’m sure the bishop will recommend your Michael for a promotion, sharing his wife with all cumers. Very Christian attitude. Anyway, do I need to struggle with this belt, or are you going to undo it for me?â€Â
That bloody video was going to haunt me for the rest of my life, how many more people knew of its existence? I couldn’t see that I had any way out of this, but I tried one last bluff.
“Your so called friends did attempt to abuse me. But my husband thwarted them.â€Â
“Don’t give me that crap. If they’d struck-out, they’d have been down the clubhouse on Saturday night drowning their sorrows. As it was, they all sat there in that picture with you that the news paper printed, with their thumbs held up high. That wasn’t a meaningless gesture; it was a sign by each man to say 'this one has had my cock up her'.â€Â
So bluff wasn’t going to work, force was useless, so I thought negotiation was my best option.
“Look, even if I was going to let you do anything, it’s far too risky in here.â€Â
“I’m prepared to take the risk. Now stop gabbing, and get your belt undone.â€Â
So much for trying to negotiate, he had me cornered, and knew it. He’d loosed my wrists, and I began to unbuckle my belt. Then I pulled the press-stud open. I’d just taken hold of the zipper when, ‘saved by the bell’. It rang aloud, making us both jump.
“Shit. Don’t think this means you’ll get off scot-free. I’ll wait around until they go.â€Â
I got to my feet, straightened myself up, and was ready as Mrs Kelly walked in the door.
“Ah Shirley my dear, how’s Michael. I read all about it in the paper this morning. Oh sorry sir, I didn’t know she was already serving someone.â€Â
“Oh never mind me, I’ll be a while yet, I’m just looking. You carry on.â€Â
“Oh in that case, I’ll have...â€Â
She went on to go through what she wanted, all the time making general chit-chat mainly about what she’d read in the paper, and then I helped her out to her car with all the stuff she’d bought. Just as she was driving out of the yard, I saw Peter, one of the farmer’s sons, going into the stable. I called, but he was out of earshot. As I looked back to the shop the old bastard was standing in the doorway looking at me, and beckoning me towards him.
I turned, and ran, as fast as my legs would carry me, I sensed he was giving pursuit, but I didn’t try to look. As I crashed into the stable door, and it burst open, the old man, took hold of my wrist and pulled me back. All I’d needed was a couple more seconds to get through the door.
“Got ya! Thought you could out run me? You wait...â€Â
“You alright Shirl? Is this man bothering you?â€Â
The old sod had dropped my wrist, like it was on fire, and he now stood a couple of paces back. This was going to be a fine balancing act, if I got this man a beating (which is what he deserved, and I would like to have seen), he’d no doubt punish me with a disclosure of the contents of that video. But at very least, I wanted to prevent him from doing anything to me.
“Its ok Peter, he was just going.â€Â
Peter reached across, and as his hand took hold of the shoulder of the man's coat, he dragged the man towards him, stopping with the man's face inches from his own. The man looked like he’d messed himself; the look on his face was justice in full measure.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but if Shirley doesn’t want me to feed you to the pigs, then think yourself lucky. But if I even see that car of yours so much as drive past our farm, you’d better start praying. Now get gone before I change my mind.â€Â
If I thought I ran down the farm yard quickly to get to Peter, then the speed this man ran back made my pace look like walking. He forgot anything about manly pride, he ran like a scolded cat, without looking back or making any comments. It was such a satisfying sight, but I hoped I wouldn't live to regret it. Then as I turned back to Peter, I saw him in a very different light than I’d ever done before. He stood there like a Greek Adonis, stripped to the waist (this was normal in the hot weather), chest muscles rippling.
“Shirley? Are you alright?â€Â
“What? Oh yes. Sorry, I was miles away. Oh Peter thank you for what you did.â€Â
“Did he touch you? You should have let me sort him out.â€Â
“No he didn’t touch me; he was just getting a bit pushy. I was maybe making mountains out of mole hills.â€Â
“If he ever comes near here again you just tell us, it don’t need to be me, dad or our Jimmy, or the other two. We’ll rip his balls off. Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.â€Â
“That’s ok, I know what you mean. But thanks anyway.â€Â
“Ok I’ll let you get back to the shop.â€Â
“Are you busy?â€Â
“Always busy, but if you want me, I’ll make time for you.â€Â
“It’s that machine again.â€Â
“God Shirley. I sometime think you only come and ask for help, so you can get me in that dark shed with you.â€Â
I obviously blushed.
“Don’t say that,†I said, but he could tell it was only a half-hearted reprimand.
He began to walk me slowly back up the yard; I was on his right-hand side, and he’d placed his arm loosely around my back, with his big hand resting on my right hip.
“Well I swear every time I get to it. One whack, and its working.â€Â
As we walked, his hand was slipping lower.
“But you can hit it harder than me.â€Â
I reached behind me, took hold of his hand, and eased it back up onto my hip.
“It don’t take any forcing, so long as you hit it properly. I guess I’ll have to try to show you again.â€Â
His hand had now slipped again, and was cupping the right cheek of my bottom.
“I’d rather you just whacked it for me,†and as I took hold of his hand and lifted it once more, “And you can keep that hand under control, you’re almost as bad as the old sod you just scared away.â€Â
“Aw, don’t say that, I was only larking about because I’ve never seen you wearing jeans before.â€Â
With that he pulled away from me, and gave me one of those disappointed school boy looks.
“Oh come-on you big softy, you know I’m not angry with you. I can take a joke, but you know I’m a married woman, and if anyone had seen you.â€Â
“So I’m forgiven?â€Â
“Of course you are.â€Â
With that he swung his arm back around me, and as he said.
“Come-on then lets get that machine of yours sorted.â€Â
He planted his hand firmly around the right cheek of my bottom again.
“Peter!â€Â
“Don’t get excited, no one is going to see me in here.â€Â
And, of course, we were now inside the shop building, so what he said was correct.
“That’s not the point.â€Â
With a lot of meaningless chat back and forth, he walked me the length of the shop, and into the potato shed, with his hand going from one cheek to the other. And once or twice, a crafty stroke in between the two!
Well we were now stood by the dreaded machine, and although I’d been fighting him off, and mildly scolding him for his over amorous attention, this attention had my pussy throbbing wildly in my knickers. As he turned on the motor, the dust once again began to descend in clouds through the rays of sunlight that were managing to penetrate the black and filthy windows. The building was droning with the vibration. Talking wasn’t possible, it was shouting and hand signals from now on.
Well the first hand signal was him ushering me to climb up onto the box. I tried shouting back, “But I thought you were going to do it to save time.â€Â
“What?â€Â
"I thought you were going to do it to save time.â€Â
"What?"
“I thought you were going...â€Â
I gave up; he was obviously playing silly buggers, and pretending not to hear me. So, as I placed one foot up onto the box, and took hold of the side of the machine, the vibrations going through my arms started taking effect. I only paused for a second, to take stock of my feelings, when I felt his hand under my crotch, assisting me to lift my bottom hence right leg up onto the box.
Before I had chance to turn around and give him any kind of reprimand, he was up there on the box with me, his massive torso towering above me. He lent across, and lifted my left ankle, and placed it onto the big lever, then as he brought his hand back, he gave me the thumbs-up sign, as if to say are you ok like that. I nodded, to indicate I was, and he lent across the machine, above me, but his chest was pushing me hard in contact with the machine, and leaning me forwards.
He started pointing, and as he placed the big lump of wood in my hand, it was obvious he was trying to show me where to hit with it. As I’d said, I’d been shown hundreds of times; I just couldn’t make it move. But the wood now slipped from my grip, dropping onto the top of the machine. He picked it up again, but offer it to me as much as he might; my arms were like limp wet rags dangling from my shoulders. My pussy was and inferno of blazing desire and muscular action.
As it pulsed violently, I’m sure it had drawn every drop of strength from all other parts of my body. It was only Peter pushing hard up against my bottom, that prevented me slipping into a heap on the floor. Peter was now beginning to realise something was wrong, and that I couldn’t do anything with his lump of wood. But the lump in his trousers, that I could feel pushing hard into the crack of my bottom, now that was something I could use right now.
But he, of course, wasn’t aware he had a wanton slut in his power. He still was looking on this as a very naughty game he was playing with the vicar’s wife, and probably wondering if he was going to get away with how far he’d gone already. My body was being attacked from all angles, the machines vibration, Peter’s manly bodily contact, and my own desire. But the one that brought my orgasm to a climax was my vivid imagination.
I could feel him ripping the crotch of my jeans, and then pushing his mighty cock deep up inside me. Then as he rammed hard, lifting me right up off the box, I felt his warm spunk inside me. This was the signal my body needed; my pussy started its contractions, and spasmic squirting. At this point I drifted off from reality, into a world of ecstasy.
I came to my senses some minutes later, and I was laid on my back, legs parted. Peter was sat alongside me, and as soon as he saw I'd come to my senses, he said.
“Oh thank god! That frightened me. I thought you were having some kind of fit. Are you ok?â€Â
I immediately began to flail my fists at Peter, raining down a torrent of blows against his face and upper body.
“You bastard! How could you. I trusted you, and thought you were my friend.â€Â
He just sat there looking gob-smacked, and not attempting to defend himself, either verbally, or physically from the blows I was inflicting.
The bell rang, and the expression on Peter’s face, looked like he was now the underdog in a fight, who was being ‘saved by the bell’. He sprang to his feet, and without a word, he was gone, closing the door behind him. I looked down to my crotch, and stared in disbelief. I had to check with my hands. But it was only now, I realised, my jeans were intact. The crotch hadn’t been ripped. They were soaking wet, for at least six inches down the inside of each leg, but I hadn’t been penetrated.
So now I began to feel really guilty, I’d imagined him fucking me, and orgasmed almost in his arms. I guess he’d had to stop me from falling, and lifted me down. But neither my blouse nor jeans showed any signs that anyone had attempted to make any kind of entry. I’d let loose with a tirade of abuse and even physically assaulted him. But he was guilty of nothing more than trying to show me how to get the machine working, even if he was using slightly dubious methods. But these methods were the ones he and all of the other men on the farm had used before, and I’d never even thought them wrong, let alone worried about them.
And worse than any of this was my performance, humping the machine, and collapsing into his arms. And then I can only assume writhing around with legs open whilst I moaned in ecstasy. Now he was out there serving the customers I was paid to serve, after I’d beaten him with all my might, for no reason at all. I dreaded him coming back, and I sat there, legs now closed, watching the door.
It opened, and he just pushed his head around it.
“Can I come in?â€Â
â€ÂOh Peter, what can I say? Come here. I’m so sorry.â€Â
By the time he’d taken two steps into the shed, I had dashed across to intercept him. I reached my hands up high, placing them on the back of his neck, and attempting to pull him down to my face. He at first wondered what was going on, but realised it wasn’t another abusive outburst, and let his face meet mine. I smothered his face with kisses.
“Enough. Shirley enough. What’s happening to you?â€Â
“Oh peter I’m so sorry. I can’t explain. I’ve been so wicked. Please promise you won't tell anyone.â€Â
“Enough Shirley, come and sit down. Tell me what the hell is going on.â€Â
“Oh god Peter. I feel so ashamed.â€Â
“You mean your cuming like that?â€Â
“Yes. I'm so sorry. You must think I’m disgusting.â€Â
“Can I tell you what I really think?â€Â
“What do you mean?â€Â
“Just that, do you really want to know what I think about you doing that?â€Â
“I’m not sure I do. But, if you’re already thinking whatever it is, I guess I’d be better off knowing what it is.â€Â
“Well, and I don’t mean to be rude to your old man, sorry, I mean the vicar. But if a girl is that highly strung, it’s a sign she isn’t getting enough. It don’t matter if you’re talking women, bitches, mares, or any other animal. It’s either not regular enough, or the equipment he’s using ain’t big enough to do the job.â€Â
I was stunned, and at a loss for words, I just sat there looking into his eyes. Peter broke the silence.
“Well, am I right?â€Â
“I I it’s not that simple.â€Â
“Shirley love, I’ve worked this farm all my life. I know you’ve got an education, but some things in life don’t need a degree to workout. I know it don’t sound romantic, and you ladies don’t like being compared to dogs. But a bitch on heat is a bitch on heat, and we both know, that orgasm you just had ain’t gonna stop your craving. So which is it, the vicar isn’t servicing you regular enough, or he ain’t got the right tool for the job?â€Â
“I really don’t think we should be talking like this. Please, I’m so sorry I went berserk at you earlier, that was very wrong of me. And I’m sorry I embarrassed you and humiliated myself. But my private life with my husband is just that, private. I’m going to have to go home to get changed, I’ll understand if you tell me you don’t want me to come back.â€Â
“It’s up to you, if you want to take the rest of the day off, then you stop at home and rest.â€Â
“No, I didn’t mean take the rest of the day off, I meant if you felt you didn’t want me to work here any more.â€Â
“What? You mean you want to leave us?â€Â
“Well no, I behaved unforgivably. I thought the other way around; you might want to sack me.â€Â
“Don’t talk like a pudding, sack you never. Given half a chance, I'd give you the fucking you need, but less said about that the better."
"Please Peter; you frighten me when you talk like that."
"Ok girl don't fret, I'll not touch you unless you ask me to. And, we’d not sack you just because your husband isn’t doing his job properly. You get off home, and if you feel ok, come straight back, otherwise, we’ll see you in the morning.â€Â
I dashed towards him, and gave him a big kiss on his forehead.
“Thank-you. I really do owe you a lot.â€Â
I was soon in my car on my way home, all the way thinking about his simple analysis of my condition. Could he be right? It couldn't be the need for a regular fucking; I'd had more this weekend than most women get in a lifetime. That only left the size of Michael's cock! Well I was now at home, and I had a quick shower. Then I did something totally out of character, I took a big cardboard box from the bottom of my wardrobe. I started spreading the packets, boxes and loose garments all around our bed; so that I could see them all, and choose which one I wanted to wear.
What are these garments, where did I get them, and why are they in my wardrobe? My brother is two years older than me, and for some reason, our family piety, skipped him totally. He was going around with girls whilst he was still at school, and it wouldn't surprise me if he hadn’t lost his virginity before he’d left. Well from my sixteenth birthday, the first day of legal sex in the UK, and on every subsequent birthday, he bought me sexy underwear. It had gone on right through my uni years, and continued to this day. So much so, even my parents used to think of it as a harmless family joke.
But I only ever wore knickers and bras that were functional and covered up properly. That didn’t mean they couldn’t be pretty, but never skimpy or frivolous. So I had this big box full of unopened lingerie of all kinds and colours. Now for some reason I couldn’t explain, either to myself, or to anyone else if they’d asked, I was sorting through them. I selected a very pretty white lace bra and panties set.
I put them on, and stood in front of the full length wardrobe mirror, turning from side to side. My public hair was untouched, and grew quite wild, so it was visible on either side of the lace material. The cut of the panties meant my legs looked longer than I’d ever seen them.
“Yes. That’ll do.â€Â
There was nobody else in the room, but I still said the words out aloud, maybe just to convince myself I was actually doing this.
I put on one of my normal flared skirts, and cotton blouse, and then I was ready. Oh hang on, I looked around, found a second bra and panties set, just as skimpy, another skirt and also a blouse, and put them all into a bag as spares. Well you never know. I then put all the underwear back into the box, and the box back into the wardrobe.
So looking no different to normal, but definitely feeling like a tart at the very least, I set off in my car, with a spare set of clothing, just in case. I arrived back at the farm at about one o’clock, normally our busiest time. But in all my years working there, I’d never seen the place so crowded. I couldn’t even get my car into the yard; I had to park with some of the other customers cars out in the lane.
As I walked into the shop Peter called,
“I'm glad to see you.â€Â
The next two hours were mayhem, even people who didn’t know me, but who just knew that I worked at this farm had come along to buy food, but mainly to get the full story first hand. It was like being a kind of minor celebrity. When the rush eventually dwindled, Peter said.
“Dad’ll be pleased. By my reckoning; we’ve about doubled our takings today.â€Â
“Don’t suppose you can push the old man over the edge again next weekend?â€Â
“Peter!"
I scolded, as I pushed him away with my open palm on his shoulder,
"That’s wicked.â€Â
Even though, I have to admit I had a slight smile on my face at the same time.
“Whelll. You can't blame me. Trades picked-up and I’ve never seen you looking so... Well you know, vivacious and beaming. It’s like one of those tricks they play when the twin sister turns up for work.â€Â
“Am I really different?â€Â
“Are you kidding me? Today is the first time I’ve ever seen you in jeans. Then there was that other thing. And now, them panties.â€Â
“Panties, what do you mean?â€Â
“You’ve never worn skimpy knickers like them before.â€Â
“How on earth do you know what my knickers look like?â€Â
“You really don’t know?â€Â
“No. I’m not wearing a short skirt, and I haven’t climbed any ladders.â€Â
“But the material of your skirt is so thin, and when you bend down it clings to you, showing the outline of your knickers. And then when you pass the open doorway and you’re silhouetted against the sun, it is the most glorious site.â€Â
“And just because the underwear I’ve got on is different to the style I normally wear, you think that means I’ve changed in some way?â€Â
“No. Not just the underwear.â€Â
“Well what else?â€Â
“I don’t want you to think I’m being rude.â€Â
“Go on say it.â€Â
“You’re on heat.â€Â
I coloured up instantly,
“Why do you say that?â€Â
“Because it’s true.â€Â
“That’s not really a nice thing to say.â€Â
“I said you’d think I was being rude, but I’m not. You are on heat, even if you are the vicar's wife.â€Â
“What makes you think that about me?â€Â
“I smelt it first thing this morning, down by the stables. At first I thought I’d caught a whiff of the mare, she’s begging for it. But then I noticed it was a different scent. Its no wonder that old man tried to feel you up this morning, I bet you were driving him wild.â€Â
I felt so humiliated, he could smell me! And to make me feel worse, every word he said was true.
“I don’t know what to say, I had a shower before I came back to work.â€Â
“Do you really think if I chucked a bucket of water at the mares arse, the old stallion would loose interest?â€Â
I didn’t answer.
“No, of course he wouldn’t. She wants it, and until she’s had it, her fanny will be sending invitations to anyone who’s interested. Now you may be fussier than her, but until you let someone ease that aching for you, you’ll be sending signals to every man with a pair of working bollocks.â€Â
“What can I do?â€Â
Suddenly the bloody bell started ringing.
“You can serve them for a start. I think you've done more than enough to screw my day up.â€Â
And with that he stormed off out of the shop. I served the lady that had just arrived, and two more before I was once again alone in the shop, and unoccupied. At this point, I knew my next task should be back to the potatoes, but I felt I couldn’t pluck up the courage to face Peter. So I went into the potato shed by myself.
I looked all around and found a long wooden pole, and then after turning the motor on, I got as far over to the right of the machine as possible, and began poking and prodding the pivot pin. But being as there was nobody pushing the lever at the same time, it had no effect. I had to make up my mind what to do next. Option one, was climb onto the machine and get aroused, and probably still not succeed in getting it working. Two, I could find Peter, and maybe go through a repeat of my earlier humiliation. Or three, which would still require finding Peter, but then try to persuade him to start the machine for me.
The last of these three options was my preferred choice, so off I went looking for him. As the last place I’d seen him was the stables, that is where I headed first. As I approached the building; I could hear animal noises coming from within. There were snorting sounds, hooves clacking on the stone floor, and lots of very hard panting and kind of wet squelching. I kind of knew before I got up to the door, what I was about to see when I got inside.
As I opened the door, my premonition had been correct. I stood there in the open doorway, watching the big stallion ramming that two foot long monster cock up inside the mare. She was tethered to a post, and had no way of avoiding his onslaught, not that I think she would have done, even if let loose.
“Come in if you’re coming, and get the bloody door shut.â€Â
And as Peter said this, he pulled me by my wrist, and with his other hand he pulled the door shut behind me.
“Come back here out of his reach, he’s too busy seeing to her to worry about who he tramples under him.â€Â
As he was saying this to me, he pulled me back up against himself, as he stood to the side of the mating animals, with his back against the wall. He held me tightly to him with his hand on my tummy, and I immediately felt his cock hardening, as it lay in the crevice of my bum. This hand was big, and the fingers long, the ends of them forming a semi-circle that encircled my bushy mound. I was sure he must be able to detect the turmoil that was going on in my tummy, as my arousal once again began to build.
I watched in amazement, as the stallion pumped his cum deep into her, and then his enormous cock just flopped out, followed by a gallon of cum that gushed from her pussy.
“Good lad. Good lad. That'll keep her happy for a while.â€Â
As he spoke, he pulled me back to the wall, and he sidestepped past me, and took hold of the stallion’s reigns. He led him back to his stall, and then did the same with the mare.
As he approached where I was still stood against the wall, he put both his hands above me on the wall, and pushed his hips forwards, bringing his bulging trousers into contact with my lower tummy.
“Well?â€Â
“Please Peter.â€Â
“Please what? Please give me the same.â€Â
“No, please. I’m married.â€Â
“But you want it.â€Â
“Don’t do this to me, I’m begging you.â€Â
He launched himself off the wall, turned away from me, picked up a bucket from the floor, and flung it at the end wall of the stable.
It hit the wall and ricocheted around the floor making a deafening clatter.
“Peter; please don’t be angry.â€Â
“Angry? I’m past angry. You fucking stand there, your pussy begging to be fucked. You’ve got my cock rock hard, and my balls about to burst. If you didn’t want fucking, why the fucking hell after what we talked about earlier, did you come down here where you knew I’d be?â€Â
“I I Came to ask you to help me.â€Â
“But you know I told you you’re driving me crazy, for gods sake, I’m only human. And after telling me this morning how much you owed me, you come down here, rub your rump onto my cock, and then say, ‘OH please don’t, I’m married’. Well married or not, getting me so worked up and then just walking away. Surely that can’t be Christian behaviour?â€Â
I felt so guilty, I knew he was at least partly right, I was to blame for getting him so worked up, but even though I felt guilty, I couldn’t voluntarily let him fuck me.
“I’m sorry but I’m...â€Â
He didn’t let me finish.
“Married. Yes I fucking know that. But ten minutes in the back of the empty stall is all I want. I’ll start your fucking machine and even bag the bloody spuds for you, just give me ten minutes.â€Â
“If I come into the stall, and relieve you, would that be good enough?â€Â
“Relieve me? What the fuck does that mean? A blow job?â€Â
“Well I was thinking of just using my hands.â€Â
â€ÂBut if I say a blow job is what is needed. Will you do it?â€Â
“I guess so. But you have to promise this is the one and only time you ever ask me. And you won't breathe a word to anyone, not your brother, dad or anyone.â€Â
“I promise I won't breathe a word, but I can't promise not to get turned on by you again. That's up to you. You've got to get yourself sorted out, and stop begging for it, then I’ll not bother you.â€Â
“Do we have to do it in here?â€Â
“Why? Where do you want to do it?â€Â
“I don’t know. It just seams so; I don’t’ know, kinda' smelly, and unromantic.â€Â
“What you want romance now?â€Â
“Please Peter, don’t be coarse. This really is a big thing for me. If I do this for you, I'll be going against everything I've ever believed in. And that includes breaking my marriage vows.â€Â
“Ok Shirley. If it's so important to you, you tell me where you want us to go. My bed room, or in that potato shed with you up against the machine?â€Â
“No forget it. It doesn’t matter, I just thought...â€Â
“What about if I take you up into the roof of the hay barn? We won't get disturbed up there. And from up there, you’ll get a view and a lovely cool breeze?â€Â
“Ok, I suppose that's as good as anywhere.â€Â
Next second the bloody bell rang again.
“Shit!â€Â
“Now Shirley, I’ve never heard you swear like you’re doing today. Just go and serve them, and I’ll be waiting for you in the barn.â€Â
I walked up the yard, my pussy throbbing wildly, and these panties not really wide or thick enough to soak-up the juices it was producing. It was a lady customer, and as I’d expected she didn’t want to buy much, it was more just a gossip she wanted. I cut her as short as I dare without being rude, and then I walked briskly through the yard, and across to the barn.
By the time I got there, I was almost breaking into a trot, and as I walked in through the big open doors, Peter appeared from out of the shadows, and took me up into his arms. He carried me with one arm around my back, and his other under my knees. He clambered from hay bale to bale, and in seconds he was walking along the flat top of the stack, right up high in the roof.
As he lowered me to my feet and stood behind me, he asked.
“Well, was I right about the view?â€Â
“Oh Peter, it's wonderful up here.â€Â
Then as I turned around, he was stood there naked, his cock in his hand, big and animalistic. He lowered himself back into a sitting position, taking hold of my hand, and pulling me down with him. Then he lay flat on his back, and with me knelt at his side, he put one of his big hands on the back of my neck, and directed my head down to his cock.
I didn’t fight it; I just let him kind of lead me. As his big bell end approached my lips, I opened my mouth. God was this cock big. I slid my mouth over it, gliding up and down his length, and within seconds he was probing my throat. My body was again in flames, and as I felt his hands undoing my blouse and then bra, I knew things would only get more intense. As my bra dangled loose, his hands roughly mauled my breasts, and plucked at my nipples. As before, no matter where the stimulation is generated, it all sends its concentrated exhilaration down into my pussy.
Just as I was beginning to think my nipples were about to burst, I realised his hands had now moved on, and were applying the attention elsewhere. At first I wondered where or what they were doing, then as I felt my skirt coming over my hips, and down my legs to meet my knees on the hay, I almost tried to stop him. But as I began to lift my head, a hand pulled it back firmly onto his cock, and his thrusting was attempting to ram it into my throat. But a cock that fat could only just enter my throat an inch at most.
And while my attention was concentrating on the cock trying to fill my throat, he single-handedly lifted me by my tummy out of my skirt, and lowered me back down on top of himself. As my knees landed one to his left side, and one on his chest, I instinctively lifted the one from his chest, and spread myself astride his head. It only took one swift tug with his fingers to pull the gusset of these scanty panties to one side, and then he had my pussy within his reach.
As his tongue made contact with my pussy, I heaved myself down onto him, and he latched onto my pussy, sucking and licking for all he was worth. So here we were, me humping as hard as I could, with him gripping my hips, and his head going up and down with me. Whilst at the other end, he was humping like crazy, and try as I might to take his cock into my throat, the force of it was pushing my head back and forth like the head on a rag doll.
This action was very short-lived, and in no more than three or four minutes, he was cuming in a series of jerks into my throat. I never got the chance to taste his cum; it was injected straight into my stomach. But I had not yet reached the point of orgasm; maybe it was the initial fear that had delayed my build-up, or just him being so worked up, he'd cum prematurely. But as his cock softened in my mouth, I tasted his cum as it slid out over my tongue and from my lips. He immediately turned me over, so he was now on top, and his face buried itself into my pussy. So, even though he’d had his satisfaction, he was still working my pussy, to bring me to mine.
I remember thinking how wonderful it would be if my Michael did this for me, instead of just rolling over once he’d shot his cum. I had my legs stretched as wide as I could manage, not because he was pulling them, but because I wanted him to be able to get his tongue as deep as possible. Then without warning, he turned around, and he was now facing up towards me, his head still down in between my legs. But now his hands took hold of my legs under the backs of my knees, and he lifted them right up alongside my body, lifting my bottom up for his tongue to excite.
At first I kind of thought it slightly improper, but as soon as his licking started, it re-kindled the feelings the fingering and licking Ian had given me a few days ago. As he licked and poked his tongue up my bottom, I could feel my pussy pulsing wildly. It wanted filling, and it wanted it badly. Then Peter let go of my legs, and I let them fall splayed open.
He lowered himself on top of me, his face above my tits, and he began to suck from one nipple to the other and back. My hips were giving the spasmodic heaving, as the pulses drove down to my pussy. I felt the big head of his cock sliding along my pussy slit, and it slipped up over my mound and lay on my tummy. He pressed himself down onto me. Then lifted his weight back off. As his weight came off I heaved my pussy up past the end of his cock, and heaved down. It slipped along my slit, going in the opposite direction to last time. As it reached my hole, my pussy almost swallowed it in one gulp.
Then as he thrust, I felt my pussy walls stretching wide, but the stretching kept going right up deep inside me. It was like it was inflating my tummy, and he didn’t back-off until his balls crashed into my crotch.
“Oh yes! Peter fuck me! Oh god I love you. Fuck it. Yes deep. Oh peter more.â€Â
Well I guess you’ve heard the kind of silly things we girls say when we are enjoying a good fucking, and I guess I said them all, and not just in a quiet voice. I won't say I was screaming at the top of my voice, but I was certainly making a fair old noise.
As my arousal got more intense, so did my vocalisation and physical response to the brutish shafting he was giving my pussy. The harder he pounded me, the greater the intensity of my arousal. As he fucked my pussy; his mouth was not just nibbling gently on my nipples, but was now biting and pulling. This rough treatment was driving me wild. I was now in my world of ecstasy where reality and imagination begin to mingle and mix into an indistinguishable illusion.
With the heat of the day, and all this exertion, both our bodies were sweating profusely, and my eyes had long since closed to avoid the stinging perspiration. My hair was stuck to my wet face, and I’d guess I looked a mess. His pace changed, he now eased his cock in a slow long thrusting, using every inch of his massive shaft to penetrate deep into my pussy. Still fucking me long and deliberately, I felt his fingers gently combing my locks of hair from my face, and uncovering my forehead. He gently wiped across it removing the sweaty beads, and began to kiss it. From my forehead, his kisses floated across my cheeks, and caressed my lips as he nuzzled into the nape of my neck.
How could this man be so wonderful, one minute fucking me so powerfully; like he was the big black stallion I watched earlier in the stable. The next, caressing my face and hair, and kissing me so gently. Then back to an animalistic ravishing of my tits, ripping at my nipples. This contrasting stimulation was driving me totally wild. Then I heard Peter's voice, and even in my trancelike state, when I heard Brian answer, I began to realise something was not as I’d thought. And from Peter’s questions, I guess he’d only just realised as well.
“Brian, what are you doing?â€Â
“I’m just warming up and waiting my turn.â€Â
“No just go, before she realises you’re here.â€Â
“Don’t be so fucking silly. You’re getting your share, I want mine.â€Â
I opened my eyes to find Brian‘s face directly in front of mine.
“Ah, so you aren’t asleep.â€Â
And with that he planted a kiss on my lips, preventing me from answering him.
Peter had almost stopped, and was propping himself up on his hands.
“Look Brian. Just fuckoff. I’ve only just got her going, if you start fucking about, she’ll go off the boil, and neither of us’ll get a fuck.â€Â
“Well don’t let her then, you get back to ramming her cunt, and I’ll keep her face occupied.â€Â
I tried to have my say.
“Please Peter, Brian no. Don’t do this to me.â€Â
â€ÂStop your bleating woman, once he gets his cock back up your cunt, you’ll soon start begging for more.â€Â
And as he said that he brought his big fat cock up to my lips, preventing me from protesting, and Peter just re-started ramming me. And even though I at first wanted to protest, Brian was right, within a few penetrations of Peter’s wonderful cock, I was riding him hard, and sucking Brian. It wasn’t too long before I detected Peters jerking motion, and I knew he was pumping his cum deep up inside me. But being as my arousal had been almost halted by the surprise arrival of Brian, I didn’t manage to cum with him.
But that wasn't to say I'd gone off the boil completely, on the contrary, I was well and truly on my way to an orgasm. So as he moved over, and Brian moved into position, I showed no sign of resistance. Brian gripped my waist, and his cock touched my pussy lips, I heaved myself onto him. As he rammed himself deep up inside me, I heard him say to Peter in a smug voice.
“See brother, I told you the bitch would fuck for both of us. You didn’t think you’d got something special I hadn’t got did you?â€Â
Peter didn’t answer Brian, but knelt down by my head, and caressed my forehead.
“You’ll be ok Shirl; it’ll not do you any harm, just go with him.â€Â
I didn’t answer; I was too busy fucking Brian. It was like I didn't want Brian to think he'd got the better of me. I wanted him to know he wasn't fucking me; but that I was fucking him.
“Fuck me harder. Come on. Fuck me. Harder. Come on fuck me like Peter.â€Â
That was the spark that set-off the fireworks. I guess I knew what I’d said, and why, and Brian reacted violently. He fucked me like he was trying to smash down a brick building with a jack hammer, crashing his balls into my crotch. But I just heaved hard to meet him, deliberately giving as good as I got, not wanting him to think he’d got the better of me.
Well when he began to cum, my pussy went crazy, gripping his cock and then squirting cum out in alternating spasms. He pumped his cum up me for a good half minute, but I carried on long after he pulled out. When I came to my normal senses, Peter was first to ask.
“Are you ok?â€Â
“Yes. A bit week and wobbly, but I’m ok.â€Â
“Sorry about Brian, I guess you made a bit more noise than I expected you to. I really thought we’d be safe up here. But I’m sure he’ll keep our secret, and you got the good seeing-to I said you needed.â€Â
Well that was one thing he got right, I certainly got a good seeing-to, just these two men on their own, have satisfied me more than all four of those mountain rescue men did during any of their sessions over the weekend. And I can tell you something else; both of them are like the continental Lager they advertise on TV, they reached parts of me, that nobody else has ever reached. So although my original intention was to just satisfy Peter; to re-pay his kindness and maybe keep him from getting over amorous, they’d now satisfied that aching that had been deep inside my pussy since Michael left me unfulfilled last night.
Although I hadn’t planned for this to happen, I couldn’t lay the blame for what had just happened at Peter’s door. I realise now part of Peter’s analysis of my condition must be fairly accurate, and it was me who allowed the situation to get out of control, even if it wasn’t intentional.
Peter had pulled his trousers back on, but Brian was still flat-out on his back, his big soft cock laid across the tops of his legs. I began to use handfuls of the soft hay to wipe myself down in preparation to putting my skirt and blouse back on again. Through all the fucking I’d just received, my panties had stopped on, with just the narrow gusset pulled to one side. I straightened them up, and reached for my bra. Then with panties and bra sorted, I got to my feet, and walked over to where my skirt had been thrown.
Brian looked across.
“Ok Shirley. What was all that about?â€Â
“What do you mean?â€Â
“Don’t play dumb. Little miss prim and proper, the only girl over twenty in the whole of Yorkshire who walked down the isle as a virgin. And as far as we could see still gave every sign of still being one some three months after being wed. And now you’re taking cock and using brothel-talk as crudely as any pro you’d find in a dockside pub in Hull.â€Â
“It’s just clicked, is this change something to do with what happened to you this weekend,†asked Peter.
“Why? What happened to her this weekend?â€Â
“Her Michael fell down a rock face on Saturday, and he had to be brought down by rescue men in a stretcher. So while he spent Saturday night in hospital, I guess Shirley was on her own.â€Â
“Come-on then Shirley, tell us what happened,†said Brian.
“Nothing happened, Michael fell, and these men went up and rescued him. That's all.â€Â
“Now Shirley, we’ve both known you for a lot of years now, and even if Brian was a bit crude with his summing-up, you have to admit he was pretty damn accurate. I knew you were on heat, but for the life of me I couldn’t understand why. It must have been something to do with what happened this weekend; you weren’t like this last week.â€Â
“Please, don’t keep going on. I can't tell you. And please, I’m begging you; don’t breathe a word about what we’ve just been doing to anyone.â€Â
“You know we wouldn’t tell a sole, would we Pete?â€Â
“She knows that. But if you only tell us what’s happened, maybe we could do something to help you. But if you want to keep it to yourself, that’s your choice. But next time you’re on heat don’t leave it so long, no need to feel embarrassed, just tip us the wink.â€Â
“Oh no, it won't happen again, I feel so ashamed.â€Â
“Don’t be silly, as Pete said don’t leave it so long next time, you never know who will take advantage. At least with us, you know we’ll keep your secret.â€Â
“Ok, thank you. But I really don’t think it’ll happen again. Now by the sound of the bells in the yard, I think we must have a queue of customers a mile long.â€Â
“Well I promised I’d bag some spuds, so I’d better get on and do some, or dad’ll wonder what our Shirley has been playing at all day. And if the number of customers is anything like it was at dinnertime, you’d better help Shirley to serve them.â€Â
“Well I guess that’s not much to ask in return for the fucking she just gave me.â€Â
“Come-on Brian, there’s no need to make her feel uncomfortable.â€Â
“I guess your right, sorry shirl; I didn't mean that nasty like.â€Â
With my head bowed down in shame, I replied.
"No Brian, I'm the one who should be ashamed. You were right; I did go a bit wild."
He lifted my chin with his outstretched fingers, and planted a soft kiss on my lips, and said.
"Never mind who fucked who, thank you love. That was the best I've ever known."
Then as he walked away, Peter walked up, and lifted my chin in the same manner, and his kiss was longer, and more intense, we even mingled tongues.
“Thank you. He wasn’t exaggerating, you are exceptional.â€Â
Well with that, we left the barn, at first, with one of them either side of me, arms around my back, and both of them with hands on my bottom. I felt such an inner glow, not just as a result of the fucking, but enhanced by their wonderful comments. Then as we left the barn, and walked out into the yard, as I’d expected from the number of times I’d heard the bell ringing, there was a yard full of cars. So they let me walk ahead lest anyone should see then getting too familiar. But all the way back up to the farm shop I could feel their eyes burning into my bottom as they watched my every footstep intently.
When I arrived at the shop doorway, there was a queue of customers waiting. We all three started to serve them, but as the queue began to shorten, Peter went into the potato shed and began the bagging, so his dad wouldn’t wonder what I’d been doing all day. Brian and I carried on serving, and the customers kept coming. I’m sure we served as many in this one day as I’d normally serve in a week. And I’m also sure, Brian brushed himself up against my bottom deliberately as he passed behind me, more times than I could count. Nothing came of any of these fleeting caresses, and I don’t think any of the customers noticed anything, but my pussy sure did.
Five o’clock, which was Finishing time, came and went, and we still had customers arriving. As I knew the farmer Mr Holmes would want to take advantage of this, I phoned Michael and let him know I’d be late home, and then carried on serving. Mr Holmes (his first name was Brian the same as his son, but I always called him Mr Holmes) arrived back in the yard around six thirty, and by now we were down to only one or two people to serve. He was amazed to see me still here, and when he looked at the till receipts, his smile was almost ear to ear.ÂÂ
He left me to serve the last few people while he talked to Brian. While I was serving, I could hear Brian telling him all about my weekend (or at least the version that had been printed in the paper), and about how my being in the paper had boosted trade. Then Peter came in from the potato shed to join them, and as all three of them left the shop to go up to the farmhouse, Mr Holmes said.
“When you’ve finished serving the last few people, lock-up, and then come up to the house to see me before you go home.â€Â
I finished serving, locked up and made my way up to the house, wondering just what he wanted to see me about. Mr Holmes lived in the house with his two sons; his wife had died some ten or more years ago. When I knocked on the door, Peter opened it.
“Come in. Dads in the front room, you go on through.â€Â
When I walked in, both Brian and his dad were watching TV, but as soon as Mr Holmes saw me, he clicked the remote shutting the TV off, and then turning to Brian.
“Can you go and find something to keep yourself busy, I’ve got to talk to Shirley in private.â€Â
Brian left without comment, and closed the door behind him as he went.
“Come on love, sit yourself down. Can I get you something to drink or eat before we start?â€Â
“No thank you.â€Â
I was now very curious to know what he wanted to talk to me about. Had peter told him about me and that machine? Or had Peter or Brian told him about the goings-on in the barn?
“Don’t look so worried my dear, I’ve only asked you here to see if I can help you.â€Â
“Help me? Help me with what?â€Â
“Don’t you remember me giving you those maps?â€Â
Yes, come to think of it, he had given me some maps when Michael and I first began our fell walking. Maps of recognised walks and climbing locations.
“Yes, thank you. We’ve used them a few times, they were handy. But...â€Â
“The reason I had them in the first place, was because I used to be a keen climber in my younger days, and although I no longer have any use for them, I’m still a member of the climbing club; in fact I’m one of only two of the original members. And it was lads from our club that came to your Michael’s rescue this weekend.â€Â
As he was talking it began to dawn on me he must know what kind of thing those ‘rescuers’ got up to whenever they encountered helpless females. And as I became alerted to his awareness I must have began to colour-up bright red.
“Now now my dear, don’t go getting all worked-up. I can guess what you’ve been put through, and I can only apologise. But believe me; I will do my best to put things right for you.â€Â
“Please Mr Holmes; I don’t want to talk about it.â€Â
“I can understand how you feel. Well me'be I can't, but I know how I’d feel if you were my daughter. You know, I sometimes look on you as the daughter we never had.â€Â
“I know you’ll think I’m as bad as those men who helped your Michael, but at least let me explain.â€Â
He went on to tell me how he and a few other climbers many years ago, set-up this club. Then as some of them got experienced, they set-up their voluntary rescue team, and it was originally just that; a genuine rescue force. But about five years ago, on advice from a central England rescue body, they were advised to adopt the nanny-cam procedure, following a case of improper conduct brought against a rescue member in Wales.
This they did, and on only the second time of using it, completely unintentionally, the woman got aroused, not to the point of orgasm, but enough to plant the seed of a devious idea in one of the medics heads. Apparently he played the video back to club members. And five years ago, the membership was down to fifteen in total, and the club was in danger of disbanding due to lack of interest. Well the ten or so members that were present when the video was played, all got pretty worked-up watching this girl in the video, and someone suggested sending her a letter, suggesting she could come to the club to collect her video, and adding if she didn’t, maybe they’d pass it on to her boyfriends work-mates.
It was obvious blackmail, knowing she wouldn’t want her boyfriend to find out about her getting worked-up whilst being examined by a medic, especially finding out from his work-mates, who’d seen her on screen. But it was worded so they could just say; they meant they’d return it to her via the work-mates and then the boyfriend. Well needless to say the poor girl arrived at the club some nights later, and was ‘taken advantage of’ as Mr Holmes put it, by the thirteen men who were present. She then witnessed her tape being smashed into pieces, and she left, never to be bothered again.
Mr Holmes says he only found out what had happened some time later, and by then, two more ladies had been compromised. And both of these were being forced to attend the club once a week each, and were being ‘taken advantage of’ by all members that were present. And by now the membership had risen by five. He said he tried to stop the practice, but couldn’t bring himself to Welch on these men to the police. Especially as some of them had been involved in a rescue some time in the past, that had saved his life. So he managed to get them to agree to a kind of compromise. A set of rules was drawn-up, the most important of which was to limit the number of times anyone is called to the club to once only.
There was also a rule that if any family member ever got involved, they’d automatically be excluded, but as he said even though he looked on me as a daughter, he couldn’t get me excluded using that rule. So he explained, that he had done as much as he could to try to protect the women who his friends ensnared in their traps, but he hadn’t actually prevented them carrying on with their wicked amusement. He begged me not to think too badly of him, saying his only alternative would be to turn traitor to his once friends.
He then assured me he would be going along to the club tonight to see exactly what sordid video of me they had, and try to prevent me being brought back to the club like all the other ladies had been, and hence prevent me being gang raped. He asked me to tell him in detail everything that had taken place on the weekend, as he said the more he knew, the more chance there would be of him being able to negotiate on my behalf. And even though the whole episode made me cringe with embarrassment, I knew he'd be seeing the video and talking with the men who’d fucked me, so I did as he’d asked, telling him every sordid detail, even telling him how my own body had connived against me, making me putty in their hands.
So off home I went, some three hours later than normal, to see my Michael and find out what kind of day he’d had. Not that I was about to tell him anything about mine! Well it seems the vicar Michael works for, had been in contact with the bishop of the diocese, and the pair of them had seized upon Michael's unfortunate accident as a means to get publicity, and maybe hold some kind of event to raise money for the Bell Tower restoration fund. The up-shot of all this, was that next Saturday, there would be an ‘Abseil From The Bell Tower’ event held at the church.
They’d contacted the members of the rescue team, and they were willing to organise it, with all monies made being split 50/50 between the church and the rescue team. Their idea was to haul people to the top of the bell tower on the outside of the building, using a rope chairlift. Then once safely onto the bell tower parapet, they would be put into a harness, and with a skilled climber accompanying them, they would be allowed to abseil down the tower wall. For this dubious privilege, they would pay five pounds (about eight dollars).
Well all this simply washed over me, my head was still wondering what was actually going on at this moment at the climbing club. But then Michael said something that focused my attention, and sent a chill through my body.
“The vicar and bishop will both be there, and they want me to bring you along as well.â€Â
“Me? Why? Surely I’m nothing to do with this? And I really don’t want to meet those men again.â€Â
“I’m sorry, but they’re trying to make as much of this as possible, and they’ve contacted the local TV people. It was them who suggested you should be there. You know what TV shows are like, they have to have a token woman in the program, even if the item is all about men doing mountain rescue, and vicars trying to refurbish bell towers.â€Â
“Please Michael, make some excuse, I don’t think I could go there, especially if the men from the climbing club are the same ones that rescued you.â€Â
“Well those four men will certainly be there, but there might be a few more as well. And as for you not going, I’ll tell the vicar you have made other plans, but he won't be pleased.â€Â
“I’m sorry Michael, but at this moment, pleasing your boss doesn’t come very high on my list of priorities.â€Â
Well with that, we both sat down and had the very late meal I’d just prepared whilst we’d been talking. Once we'd finished the meal, and I'd cleared everything away and washed-up, I was about to put the TV on, to try to calm myself down.
“Don’t bother with the TV, I think with all that’s gone on today, and this ankle of mine throbbing, I’m going to go up now and have an early night.â€Â
“Ok darling, but its only nine o’clock, I think I’ll just watch TV for an hour before I come up.â€Â
“I was hoping you’d come up with me.â€Â
His words were asking, but his look was an instruction. I guess I could have made something of it, but like the dutiful wife, I just turned the TV back off, and followed him up the stairs. It was daylight, and even with the bedroom curtains drawn, the bedroom was light. So if I’d stripped in-front of him, he’d notice the sexy knickers I was wearing, and this might raise questions, so I took my nightdress into the bathroom with me, and when I came out I just slipped my used clothes into the wash basket.
As I slipped into bed alongside him, he said.
“It’s been a hot day today.â€Â
A very weird remark to make, especially after almost instructing me to come to bed so he could fuck me!
“Yes, it was sweltering working in those farm buildings.â€Â
“Wouldn’t you feel cooler without your nightdress?â€Â
This was definitely not the Michael I knew. He’d never seen me naked, well not until last Saturday when those men were fucking me!
I was about to slip it off without making any comment, but then the devil began to play with my mind, and I thought I’d try teasing him.
“If you’re too hot, I can go and sleep in the spare room, if that’ll let you get a better night’s sleep.â€Â
“No, I didn’t mean I’m feeling hot. I just thought maybe you’d be more comfortable.â€Â
I began to slip out of bed.
“Where are you going? I said there was no need for you to go to the spare room.â€Â
As I walked across and stood by my wardrobe so that he could get a full view of me.
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to just drop my nightdress on the floor and have it getting all creased up.â€Â
And with that I stood there and slipped it off, revealing myself in total nakedness. I took my time putting the nightdress into the wardrobe, and then turned to face him.
“Is that what you wanted to see?â€Â
“Shirley! My god woman! Why are you behaving like this? Get into bed quickly.
“But Michael, there’s only us two here, and you’re the one that wanted me naked.â€Â
I’d made my way back to the bed, and taking him by surprise, with one swift whoosh I pulled the light quilt from the bed, and it floated across the room and landed over by the windows.
For just a split second, he lay there, naked, his hands encircling his rock hard cock as it stood to attention pointing to the ceiling.
“God woman! Have you gone mad?â€Â
He turned to one side, trying to conceal his erection from my view, but his movements were still hampered by the strapped-up ankle and I guess the pain it gave him when he moved quickly. But I wasn't, I moved quickly, and in seconds I was on the bed, stood with my legs astride him, presenting him with a view of my pussy.
“For gods sake Shirley get down.â€Â
And with that he reached up and as he took hold of my hand he jerked me down onto the bed. I fell in a heap alongside him, and he rolled over, so he was now propping himself up on one arm, and leaning above me.
“Look here Shirley, you’ve got to stop this silly behaviour. I know last weekend was a trauma for you, but it’s about time you started to get yourself back to normal. I’ll say prayers for you, and it wouldn’t hurt for you to do some praying yourself, before you loose all sense of morals and decency.â€Â
Then he got off the bed, and hobbled across to retrieve the quilt which he then spread across the bed, covering me up. He then got back into bed, and as he slid under the quilt he placed his arm around me.
“Now come on, let’s do it like decent folk, with a sense of decorum.â€Â
I didn’t speak, and in truth I was on the point of laughing at his stupid pious attitude. He didn’t say anymore, he just mounted me, and began his manic thrashing. And as I’d expected, it lasted no more than a couple of minutes, before his gasping and moaning signified he’d had his satisfaction. Then as before he just rolled off me, and within minutes he was snoring.
I got up, showered, and sat in the bathroom, legs open and my fingers working my clit. This was my first try at getting myself off, and though not anything special, it was certainly better than laying in bed feeling frustrated. So next morning I once again sorted out a pair of sexy panties to wear, and I still had my spare panties in my bag. I also sorted out a spare pair of my normal cotton knickers, just in case I needed to make myself look decent for some reason.
As I left for work, I said goodbye to Michael who was still in bed, and I arrived at the farm by eight o’clock. As I approached the shop, I could see someone had already unlocked the door. When I looked inside, there was Mrs Miller, a lady aged about fifty from the nearby village. She only normally served on weekends, or when I took my holidays.
“Hello, I didn’t expect to see you here.â€Â
“Ah! Shirley my dear. I was waiting for you to arrive, Mr Holmes phoned me last night, and said he would be going out on some business trip today, and as he needed to take you along with him, he wanted me to come and look after the shop, so here I am. He said to send you up to the house when you arrive.â€Â
“Well I can’t imagine why he needs me, but I guess I’d better go and find out. See you later.â€Â
That was a lie, I could imagine why he wanted me, I assumed he’d got something sorted out last night at the club. I was knocking at the back door, he opened it.
“Come in love, let’s go into the parlour. That’s it sit yourself down. Right my dear, I haven’t managed to get you off scot-free, but I’ve got the best deal I can for you.â€Â
“Thank you.â€Â
“Well let’s not get into the thank you business yet, I haven’t told you what they are asking for. They seem to be saying you’re a bit special, the performance you give when you cum.â€Â
I coloured up, and put my hands up to cover my face.
“Sorry Shirley, I know it sounds vulgar of me, but it's the way the lads were all raving about you. And I have to say, on that video, they hardly even touched you before you were going wild. I’ve never seen the like before, that fanny of yours opening and closing as it sprayed out cum. Sorry love, but that's what I saw. Well all the lads in the club have seen the video, and the very least I can get you off with, is to come to the club, and let them get you off. They all want to see you give that same performance for real.â€Â
“So I have to go to the club and let someone, you know?â€Â
“Yes. But they recon you'll be easy to get going, and from watching that video, I had to agree. It's the only way I can get them to agree to letting you see that video being scrapped.â€Â
“But I won't have to let anyone have sex with me?â€Â
“No. I managed to persuade them it wasn’t worth them taking that risk.â€Â
“What risk?â€Â
“I told them I’d blow the whistle on their little game if they did that to you. They said they didn’t think I’d go that far, but I don’t think they dare put it to the test.â€Â
I felt so grateful to him for helping me, especially as he obviously felt he owed some of those men a debt of gratitude for saving his life. Without thinking about my actions, I leapt from my chair, and flung my arms around his neck, and gave him a great big kiss.
“Thank you Mr Holmes, I really am grateful. When will I have to go there?â€Â
“Well I told them you wouldn’t be able to go on any evening; it would need to be during the daytime. I figured, there would be less of them able to get time off work during the day, so you’d have less of an audience.â€Â
“Thank you, I wouldn’t have thought of that. So what day are they expecting me?â€Â
“Well again, I thought, strike while the irons hot, and less of them will be able to arrange time off. So were due there in about an hour’s time.â€Â
“Oh my god! But I guess if I’ve got to do it, the sooner its over with the better. Then I won't have to spend days worrying about it.â€Â
“That’s my girl, by this afternoon; it’ll all be behind you. And from then on, you can just forget it ever happened.â€Â
Well we had a cup of tea, and before I knew it, it was time to set off for what I hoped would be my final encounter with those men. We arrived at the club house, a wooden building in the corner of a field in the middle of no-where. As Mr Holmes pulled into the rough pot-holed car park, there were hardly any spaces available for parking.
“My god, looks like my idea of doing this during the daytime didn’t reduce the number of men by very much.â€Â
We walked in, and as all the shutters were closed tightly against the windows, it could just as easily have been night time. The building consisted of a large room with a bar running half way down one side. Behind the bar in the corner of the room was a large TV mounted on the wall. There was a space in front of the bar without any tables, and this walkway continued to the end of the room, where it met up with an opening to the next room. This opening didn’t have a door, and it led to the smaller of the two main rooms. Off to the side behind the bar was a small kitchen area, this did have a door separating it from the main room.
The instant I walked in, there was an air of deja vu about the place, but then I thought, ‘I guess it’s similar to most village or church halls in layout’ accept for the bar would normally be a serving counter for tea and cakes. As soon as the men saw me walk in, we were surrounded, and everyone wanted to say hello, and they also appeared to think it was quite acceptable to touch and feel me, like I was some kind of sex slave!
“Back off! Before I take her back home!â€Â
Mr Holmes barked out in a loud and very forceful manner. They did as he’d told them, and a narrow corridor formed in the crowd of men, allowing us to make our way to one of the tables. As we sat down, I could hear music coming from the smaller room, and my mind began to wander. It was almost like a dream sequence in a movie. The feeling of being here before came flooding back, and with it a sudden wetness in my panties.
It was like I’d had an instantaneous mini-orgasm, but why; nobody had touched me, well nothing serious. Then I felt an irresistible urge to see what was in the room where the music was coming from. Mr Holmes had been talking with Ian and one of the other men, and I think they were discussing how they were going to setup my performance, but as I say, I was off in a dream land, and they were just somewhere in the back of my mind.
Without listening to their conversation or waiting until whoever was speaking had finished, I butted in.
“What’s in that room?â€Â
“What?†Snapped Ian.
“That room down there. What’s in there?â€Â
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about things like that. Stalling won't get you out of giving the lads a show.â€Â
“Tell me! I want to know what’s in that room?â€Â
Mr Holmes answered me.
“Don’t get yourself het-up my dear. It’s just a gaming room. They’ve got a pool table, a couple of one-arm-bandits, a juke-box, and an old pinball machine. There’s nothing to worry you in there.â€Â
“Can I take a look?â€Â
“I told you, its no good you stalling.â€Â
“Back off Ian, if she wants to take a look, I’m sure you can wait five minutes.â€Â
Then as Mr Holmes got to his feet, he took my arm.
“Come on my love, I’ll show you there’s no’t to be afraid of.â€Â
He walked me to the opening, and as I stood there, I began to tremble. My body was going into full slut mode, my pussy began to pulse wildly, and I knew the juice was running from it, and would be sliming up the tops of my legs. It all clicked in a sudden flash. I was the girl in the film. The film Michael and I had watched some weeks ago, when he’d turned the TV off. Everything was there, the juke box against the far wall, some men stood around at the various machines.
I walked to the juke box, and as I scanned the available music, someone put a coin in the machine for me. I selected a song I could dance to, and bearing in mind, the only dancing I’d ever done before in public was normal ballroom. I tried my best to emulate the dirty sultry writhing and gyrating type of dancing that the girl in the film had been doing. Instantly there was a circle of men around me, trying to out dance each other to be my partner. By the time the first song I’d selected was a minute old, one man had proved he had what it took, and we were dancing around together, and by now he was taking hold of me to twirl me around, and at times bending me right over backwards so that my loose thin skirt fell into the valley of my crotch.
Then as the music stopped and while someone was selecting a new song, I asked.
“Have any of you seen a film called the accused?â€Â
At first there was a general look of ‘what the hell is she on about’?
As I looked around the sea of faces, I could see their eyes light up one by one as the penny dropped. There was then a mad rush to be the first one to carry me across to the pinball machine. As the first man took hold of me by my waist, and began to carry me across the floor, I saw Mr Holmes coming striding through the crowd. He was thrashing his arms from side to side, knocking men out of his path, like an explorer cutting his way through the jungle undergrowth. I shouted to him, as soon as he was within earshot.
“I’m ok. Please Mr Holmes; I want them to do this to me.â€Â
He looked stunned, and more than a little disappointed as he turned and slowly pushed his way back out through the crowd. I guess if he looked on me as his daughter, it would be hard to understand. But back to my would-be rapist, who it was obvious had seen the film, and was about to re-enact the part of the first rapist.
At this point I’d advise anyone who hasn’t seen the film ‘The Accused’ to get hold of a copy, and watch it. Also you have to realize, that I had only seen the film up to the point where one man had raped the girl, and the second was about to. And as there was a room full of men, I assumed they’d all taken it in turns, meaning she’d been gang raped by at least ten, maybe fifteen men.
But back to my situation, as he lifted my bottom onto the edge of the pinball machine, and pushed me back into a full reclining position, I began to protest. Like I remember the girl in the film doing. Not that I wanted him to stop, I was just role-playing, and living-out a fantasy. Luckily the men around either realized this, or maybe they didn’t care. But I was told later, that at this point it took five men to man-handle Mr Holmes into the other room, where it was explained to him what the film was about.
The sex was an exact re-run of the film; except that since then I have seen the film myself in full, and I now know they didn’t all fuck her. But in my case, they did, every man in the club, excluding Mr Holmes, and most of them came back for second helpings. It was living out a fantasy in the extreme, they ‘took advantage of me’ first on the pinball machine. Then a couple of men wanted to double fuck me, so I was carried across to the pool table.
Once on the pool table, this was where the majority of the remaining action took place. They just trooped up one after another. I had hands on every part of my body, and cocks pushed in every conceivable orifice. I tried my hardest to keep in character, by keeping up my protesting, pretending I was actually being raped, but by the time I’d been on the pool table for a few minutes, my desire to be fucked just took over my speech as well as my bodily reactions. Most of the latter part of this event is a blur, and although I came several times, I have no idea just how many.
I walked unsteadily from that back room some two and a half hours later, still naked, and carrying my crumpled and creased clothes with me to the toilet. I did a make-shift job of cleaning myself up, and then once dressed; I opened the door to the main room. The whole room broke out in a chorus of whoops, cheers and all manner of other calls. The men were all staring my way, clapping and smiling. The comments about how good they thought I’d been were crude and to the point, but inwardly, they still gave me a sneaky feeling of pride.
As they all calmed down, I walked over to the table where Mr Holmes was sat, his head bowed down, and both his hands encircling his half drunk pint glass of beer. Even as I reached the edge of the table, he didn’t lift his head to acknowledge me. I spoke quietly to him.
“I’m ready to go when you are.â€Â
He didn’t reply, or even lift his head; he just got to his feet, turned and began to walk towards the door. I knew from his manner he was really upset, but one thing stood out more poignantly than any other. He’d left his unfinished pint of beer! If you know anything about a true Yorkshire man, then that is one thing you’ll never see them do. Unlike all the TV soaps and films, if a real Yorkshire man buys a pint of beer, he never leaves until he’s drunk every last drop of it.
But that is by the by; we got into his car, and on the journey home the only words spoken were me apologising for my behaviour, Mr Holmes never spoke a word. When we got to the farm, he got out of his car, and as I closed the door my side, he said.
“We ain’t got no fancy shower here, but if you come up to the house, there’ll be enough hot water for you to take a bath.â€Â
And with that he turned and began walking towards the house. After running across to my car to get my little bag with spare underwear, I followed in silence.
When I got to the door, I was about to knock as usual, but felt like I was in some way annoying him, and didn’t want to knock the door. So for the first time ever, I slowly turned the handle and let myself in.
“Mr Holmes. Are you there?â€Â
I heard his voice coming from the parlour.
“I’m here in the parlour.â€Â
“Shall I go straight up and get myself cleaned up?â€Â
“You do that lass. I’ll stop down here. I'll not leave you alone in the house; I’ll wait till you’re done before I set off to the fields.â€Â
So in this ancient looking bathroom, with cobwebs and I guess spiders lurking everywhere, I stripped off, and had my bath. The warmth of the water felt so relaxing, but the thought of all those spiders hiding in their webs, watching and ready to jump out on me, made me nervous. So I just gave myself a very quick wash down, and in no time I was climbing out and looking for a towel to dry myself down with. As I opened the bathroom door, I heard someone knocking on the front door.
“Ah. Ian. What the bloody hell do you want? Come to take the piss out of me I suppose.â€Â
“Hey Brian, don’t be like that. You weren’t to know. She fooled me as well; at first. Any way, we can't talk out here, can I come in?â€Â
Mr Holmes didn’t answer, but as the voices got closer, and the front door closed, I assume he’d just turned around, and Ian was following him into the parlour. I carefully descended part way down the stairs, so I could hear more clearly what was being said.ÂÂ
“I’ll tell you, the first sight we got of her, she was so prim and proper, I nearly didn’t even try to get her. In fact, if it hadn’t been for where she hurt herself, I’m sure I wouldn’t have attempted it. But she...â€Â
“Don’t bother. She told me where she hurt herself, and what you did.â€Â
“But I promise, even if I’d not been trying, she just came to life. Well you saw the video. Oh by the way, that’s why I’ve come, you forgot to take these with you.â€Â
“Is that all the stuff you've got, no photos or anything else?â€Â
“That’s all. I promise. I’ve even deleted the files I copied onto my PC. Look Brian we’ve been pals for years, and even though we don’t see eye to eye on this kind of thing, I would never try to trick you.â€Â
“I guess so. I just feel I don’t know about people anymore.â€Â
“Hey! Come on, I know you thought the sun shone out of her backside, but we’re all different. She can't help needing loads of cock, its just ironic she’s a vicar’s wife.â€Â
“But she was sitting here this morning trembling, and looked like she was terrified at the thought of what you animals were going to do to her. And then when we get there. Well! I couldn’t watch. It was bad enough just listening, and her... she was ranting like she had the devil inside her.â€Â
“I should think she was, there was quite a few of us dirty devils inside her all at the same time, she fucks like no other girl I’ve ever known. Well to be honest, that is mainly why I came to see you.â€Â
“I thought you came to bring the videos I’d forgot?â€Â
“Well yes that as well. But you saw her. That isn’t the girl or vicar’s wife you came to the club last night to plead for.â€Â
“She didn’t just accept a fucking. She wanted it, she begged for it, god she fucking demanded it. She fucked every one of us until we couldn’t get any more spunk out of our dicks! And there were at least twenty men in that club this morning. Surely you won't expect us to keep to our word and not have her back there again. Even for her sake; you can see she loved being fucked.â€Â
“Don’t say no more. Me'be your right, me'be you’re wrong, but what ever the case, you agreed to my conditions, and unless she tells me to my face she wants to become a whore, then if any of you try to get her back to the clubhouse, I’ll come looking for you. And mark my words; I won't be on my own. I’m not the only one that thinks the world of that little girl; my boys will rip the balls off anyone that does her wrong. In fact if they knew what you’d already done to her, you’d be pig food.â€Â
“Ok Brian, I get your message loud and clear, we won't touch her. But I can't help thinking, it’s her that is going to miss out, she really is begging for it.â€Â
“Think on lad, pals we might be, but I swear, if you cross me on this, you’ll not live to regret it, and there won't be anything left of you to bury.â€Â
“Come on Brian, there’s no need to get nasty.â€Â
“Nobody’s gonna’ get nasty, unless you step out of line.â€Â
“Well I’ll go then, but if she does...â€Â
“Just go.â€Â
“Ok, maybe we’ll see you up the club one night?â€Â
“I doubt it.â€Â
I heard them walking the length of the hall, and then the front door opened and closed a few seconds later. I’d stood there part way down the stairs listening, and by now I was almost dry, but I still needed a towel to complete the process. I was just going to call down, when.
“Well are you coming down? Or are you gonna’ stand on the stairs all day?â€Â
“How did you know I was here?â€Â
“I heard you tread on the second step from the top about ten minutes ago, it always creaks, it’s done it for years."
“So you knew I was listening?â€Â
“I assumed as much, well are you coming down?â€Â
“I I need a towel.â€Â
But instead of him walking back into the parlour as I’d thought he’d done, the next second there he was at the foot of the stairs looking up at me. I was naked, and had nothing at all in my hands to cover myself up with. You’d have thought after all that exposure and sexual action earlier, I wouldn't be shy. But now I felt so exposed, and I clasped one hand over my bush and the other arm around my breast.
He began to walk up the stairs towards me; I froze on the step I was on, not knowing if he was coming to claim his dues for helping me, or maybe coming to take revenge for me humiliating him in front of his pals. He reached me and we stood there for a second or two, looking eye to eye, even though he was a couple of steps down on the staircase. I felt his hands, big and rough skinned as they encircled my waist. The fingers so long, and my waist so thin, his finger ends almost touching. Without any sign of strain or effort on his face, I felt myself being lifted off the stair.
In my mind, although I was now not on heat, and had no signs of arousal, I knew I’d just let him take me to his bed, and I’d cooperate with what ever he wanted to do to me. As he lifted me, he turned me side on towards himself, and plonked me back down on the same stair he’d just lifted me up from, but right across to the side, with my bottom pressed against the spindles of the stair-case. Then his hands slipped away, and as he manoeuvred himself passed me, he carried on walking up the stairs.
I stood there, still petrified. By now he was walking across the landing toward one of the bedrooms.
“Well come on then if you want a towel.â€Â
I slowly made my way up the few steps, and stood on the landing waiting for him to bring me a towel. As he handed it to me, he said.
“There’ll be a hot cup of tea waiting for you when you get down, don’t take all day.â€Â
So that was it, almost the first words he spoke to me since I embarrassed him, and we were back to the standard British answer to every known problem, ‘A cup of Tea’. Well at least some values never change, and maybe that is something I can hang onto in this whirlwind of mixed emotions that is spinning my head around.
As I walk into the parlour, fully refreshed from my bath, and clean underwear in place, under my slightly creased skirt and blouse, Mr Holmes is sitting there waiting to pour the tea. He hands me my cup and I sit down. There is an awkward silence, and then we both go to speak at the same time.
“I’m...â€Â
“It’s...â€Â
“No, after you,†he says, ever the gentleman.
“Nothing really, I just wanted to say how sorry I am. I know I’ve disappointed you. And I’ve racked my brain to think how I can explain it to you. But there is no explanation. I just felt I had to do it. Please try not to think too badly of me. I promise it’s not like Ian said; I’m not a whore. And I never want to go back there again.â€Â
“I was going to say it’s none of my business. But I still feel like I’m your guardian or protector, and I can’t get my head around what you’ve just done.â€Â
“I know, I can’t explain it to myself, it was just something in my body, a kind of need or craving. Like a drug.â€Â
“I’ll tell you now lass, I feel like putting you across my knee and thrashing your arse until you can’t sit-down or use that fanny for a week!â€Â
“I’m sorry. I know I’ve let you down. And I promise; if I thought you chastising me, would cure me of this, I’d bend over your knee right now.â€Â
“What you saying, you don’t like doing what you just did?â€Â
“I don’t know what is happening to me. Something just takes over my body, and I can’t stop myself.â€Â
“But you’ve never been that way before; it’s all come about since them animals abused you last weekend.â€Â
“That’s true. But I don’t think that is the whole story...â€Â
I then went on to explain to him about the only two experiences of sex that I’d had before this weekend. And how I didn’t even know what an orgasm was, let alone my Michael even attempting to induce one. That since those men had shown my body the level of pleasure it could achieve, it now kind of expected something at least approaching that when ever I had sex. But with Michael being content to just satisfy himself, and then leaving me frustrated, the next day I seemed vulnerable to any kind of stimulation.
And since Michael came back from hospital, both nights he’s taken me to bed at the earliest chance he’s had, and then just satisfied himself. I even told him about my attempt to get Michael re-interested by going down there with my mouth, and how Michael had almost blown a fuse. Then I explained about the state I was in on Monday morning, and how the machine in the potato shed had got me aroused, or even simple things like seeing various animals mating. I then told him to be ready to hear something he wouldn’t like. And I made him promise he’d hear me out; before he acted on what I was about to tell him. I then told him about his sons having sex with me on the top of the hay in the lower barn, but I was very careful to make sure I took the blame for the whole episode.
At first he looked shocked, but then he mumbled something about thinking they both looked shifty last night when he arrived back, and then he continued.
“So what you’re saying is; when your Michael has sex but doesn’t satisfy you, you’ll have sex with anyone?â€Â
“No. Or at least I hope not. In fact there was a man called in the yard yesterday...â€Â
I told him all about what had happened, and how Peter had sent him on his way.
“But if anything happens, I just get worked up, you know turned on. And then, it kind of distorts my normal sense of what is right and wrong. Yesterday, it just felt right to have sex with your two boys, they are so manly, and I felt so safe with them. But all I can say about this morning; just knowing you were in the building made me feel safe. And that building so much resembled the bar in the film; it was as though it was meant to be. Like it was a way of completing the film my Michael hadn’t allowed me to see. I promise if you hadn’t been there as my protector, I’d never have dared do it. And if I embarrassed you, then please forgive me, I never meant to do that. If you want me to leave and find another job, I’ll understand.â€Â
“Don’t be silly lass, ok, I was shocked. And yes I’ll admit, it still takes a lot of swallowing. But you’ve always been a bonny lass, and if you have changed, the blame lies with Ian and his cronies. What we’ve got to sort out, is where you go from here.â€Â
“You want me to leave?â€Â
“No lass, I mean what are we going to do about your problem? If we don’t sort you out soon, I can see someone taking advantage, and you ending-up getting hurt.â€Â
“I feel so ashamed, but as god is my witness, once the feeling in my tummy gets a hold of me, I just go to pieces. It’s only after I’ve, you know, been worked-up, and then, like now, I feel quite normal again.â€Â
“So if my lads were to walk in the door now, and take hold of your arm, would you let them take you to bed?â€Â
“No. I’d tell them to leave me alone.â€Â
But as I spoke, just the picture he’d put in my mind, sowed the seed of an arousal in my tummy.
And with it, must have been a change in facial expression.
“What’s up lass?â€Â
“I don’t know. But just you asking me, I can feel it starting.â€Â
“What?â€Â
“You know, oh god, please can we talk about something else?â€Â
“What? You telling me, just thinking about my boys is getting you on-heat?â€Â
“I’m sorry.â€Â
“So is it the same when your Michael tells you he wants an early night? Are you already aroused by the time you get to the bedroom?â€Â
I hadn’t thought about the idea of Michael, but now I did, all that came to mind was him giving me his final thrusts, and rolling off me. And then me feeling somehow cheated, or short-changed.
“Oh god Mr Holmes, will I rot in hell?â€Â
“For heavens sake why?â€Â
“My butterflies have gone, and all I can think is; I hope the novelty has worn off, and he doesn’t touch me tonight.â€Â
"Novelty worn off? And who doesn't touch you?“
"My Michael. He never used to think of sex, but at least then I wasn’t being partly worked-up, and left for the first man who wanted to take advantage of me. But now, he’s wanted me every night since he saw those men doing that to me.â€Â
“But you haven’t answered my question; does thinking of Michael turn you on?â€Â
“No. Thinking of Michael has just got me feeling disillusioned, and frustrated.â€Â
“Well lass, if thinking about your husband turns you off, I think me’be you married the wrong man.â€Â
“Please don’t say that, I love my Michael. These feelings only started since this weekend, it’s as though him seeing me with those men excited him. But I’m sure he feels sex is wrong, so once he’s satisfied his own craving, he wants nothing to do with me.â€Â
“I know this will sound really wicked. But when I think of Michael, I just remember how he rolls off me when he’s satisfied, and then how I lie there all night just wanting more. But when I think of your boys, I see those great big cocks, and they just keep pushing up me, never stopping until... Oh god Mr Holmes. I’m sorry, god help me.â€Â
As I was speaking and thinking of my yesterdays fucking, I’d slipped forwards on the sofa, and now in a reclining position, I began to heave my hips. In seconds he was out of his chair, and sat sideways on the sofa next to me. He’d taken hold of my hand and his other arm was around my back with his hand on my shoulder.
“Come on Shirley, chase those images from your mind, and think about what your husband would say if he knew you were talking like this.â€Â
“I I’m sorry.â€Â
“Where is your Michael today?â€Â
As I began to turn my thoughts from the session in the barn, to thinking where my Michael was, and who he might be talking to. This immediately quelled the turmoil that had welled-up in my tummy.
“Oh god Mr Holmes. Is there any hope for me? Do you think I should bend over your knee?â€Â
“Well I can’t think right off, just how we’re gonna’ sort this out. But you’re in more trouble than I ever imagined, and a good thrashing isn’t gonna cure you. We need to think how we’re gonna keep you from sending signals to every man you meet, that you’re ripe for the picking.â€Â
“I I don’t know if I should mention this, but both Peter and Brian said if I ever got into a state again, they’d see to me.â€Â
“See to you, you mean...â€Â
I could see he was struggling for the right expression, so I interrupted him.
“Yes.â€Â
“And how do you feel about that?â€Â
“Well when I’m sort of normal, I know its wrong, and I feel ashamed. But if my Michael leaves me aching again tonight, then the second I see either of them in the morning; I just know, I’ll be theirs to do as they want with. And that is either or both; I know I’ll just want them.â€Â
“And if anyone else is here instead of them?â€Â
“I I don’t know, like who?â€Â
“Well I know I’m an antique; but they ain’t here right now, and I am?â€Â
“I I’d never thought...â€Â
“I’m too old for you then?â€Â
“No, I just didn’t think you thought of me in that way.â€Â
“So when ever I’ve slid up behind you, and helped you lift heavy sacks, or pushed you up on top of the bagging machine; what the hell did you think that hard lump was that I was pressing into your bum with?â€Â
As I’d said, all of them had shown me how to sort that machine, and they’d all done as he’d just described. But in my innocence, I’d never been aroused by this, or more to the point, never once felt threatened. But to now hear him telling me, not in so many words, but intimating, he wanted to fuck me. I just coloured up bright red.
“I’m sorry; you must think me so stupid. But now you’ve said it; that means all of you think the same about me, even Eric and Carl?†These are the names of the two hired hands.
“Well I’ve never asked them, but anyone who’s had the opportunity to press themselves up against that little bottom of yours, and hasn’t got hard, has to be queer.â€Â
“I feel so silly now, I never, well yes I did know you were hard, and I knew what that meant, but I never really thought. Oh god, it’s started again.â€Â
I pulled one of my hands from his, and put it down on my tummy.
“What? Thinking about me rubbing my cock up against your bottom is getting you turned on?â€Â
Now his hand joined mine, cupping itself around my tummy, and pressing down towards my bush. I felt my cheeks burning as I blushed even more.
“Please don’t.â€Â
“But it is me that’s getting you worked up?â€Â
“Yes, but please don’t.â€Â
He pulled his hand away, and slipped it into his trouser waist, and then he re-adjusted the position of his cock. And although still safely inside his trousers, there was now a large bulge showing he was ready for action. This didn’t scare me, or put me off; it just fuelled my ensuing arousal.
By now, my tummy was getting quite well and truly agitated; I could feel a tension in the air.
Then as his hand came from his trousers, it gently cupped under my left breast.
“Please Mr Holmes, are you sure you want to do this?â€Â
“Does it feel good?â€Â
“Oh god yes, it feels wonderful. Rape me! Please Mr Holmes. Rape me!â€Â
“Rape you? I’d never do that.â€Â
“Please, I feel so dirty. Don’t make me have to beg you to fuck me. Please just take me, no matter how much I struggle or fight you. I’m begging you, Rape me now.â€Â
He didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes, told me the fish was now securely hooked. He got to his feet, bent down directly in front of me, pushing his head past my waist, and his shoulder into my tummy. Then with his big strong arms wrapped around me, his hands slid under my bottom, and as he stood back upright he had me over his shoulder in a ‘fireman’s lift’.
Out he strode, and we were soon going up the stairs two at a time. I beat my fists on his back, and kicked and wriggled.
“Put me down you monster. Let me down.â€Â
I struggled and fought like it was really happening to me. But like the men this morning, either he realized I was just role-playing, or he was too far gone to care. Either way, he easily had me restrained with just one of his hands holding me around the top of my left leg.
This meant his other hand was free to roam. And roam it did, stroking up the inside of my right leg, and pulling at the gusset of my now respectable cotton knickers. He might have been acting, but by the time he tipped me off his shoulder onto his double bed, he’d already had his fingers up my pussy. And as I fell backwards onto his bed, his grip around the gusset pulled my knickers down my legs. This wasn’t done smoothly or carefully, I was actually thrown from his shoulder, and as I flew through the air towards the soft landing on his mattress, he snatched the knickers back, pulling them down my legs. This not only ripped them, but they also caught and pulled off part of the fresh scabs that had formed on the injuries to the inside of my legs, causing the blood to start to run.
Well if I’d thought this might make him be more careful, I needed to think again. I’d told him to rape me, and this was what he was now doing. So as my hands went down to the area where the blood was now trickling from, he just took hold of the waist band of my skirt, and gave a sharp tug. The hooks and eyes that held this wraparound skirt in place just ripped from the thin material. And as the skirt unwrapped, it spun me around pulling my hands from in between my legs, and slipping from under me, leaving me face down on his bed.
I didn’t have time to react with movement or even any kind of protest, real or acting, before he was on the bed behind me. He pulled my blouse from either side, and it just pealed off, with buttons popping as it tore apart. Then from the back he released my bra, and one swift turn of my shoulders, saw me once again on my back, but now naked.
He was on his knees above me, and now he slowly began to pull his shirt over his head. At this point I tried a wriggle, to see if I could work myself free, but his knees just closed, squeezing me either side of my torso.
“Let me get up you bastard!â€Â
As he threw his shirt to one side to reveal his ape-like hairy chest, he lashed out at my face with his open palm.
The bedroom echoed to the sound of the loud.
“CRACK!â€Â
As his hand reached my cheek. But to my surprise, there was no stinging, he’d used the old trick a dad plays on a young son, lashed out but intercepted his own slap with his other hand slid gently across my face. There was no doubt in my mind when I saw the blow coming that it was going to hurt, and I had begun to believe he was doing this for real. I think for a split second I was in a weird way disappointed to know this was still acting.
But then I just let out a scream. As if the blow had been real.
“Shut your mouth you bitch, or you’ll get more of the same.â€Â
I sniffed as if holding back the tears, as he stood up to remove his trousers.
I began to try to make good an escape, but he leant forwards, the task of removing his trousers abandoned as he held his right hand above my face in a threatening manner.
“Don’t you move until I tell you.â€Â
I froze, as if this was a real threat.
He slowly unbuckled his belt, and then undid the buttons one by one, with no sense of urgency. I lay there motionless, well externally anyway, inside my tummy was quivering with desire, whilst my pussy throbbed with anticipation. Then as his last button was released, he dropped his trousers and pants in one, and stepped out of them, to reveal a cock the equal or maybe bigger than either of his sons. He didn’t stand there showing himself off, but no sooner had he stepped from his trousers, than he'd dropped to his knees on the bed.
Then as he took hold of my ankles, and lifted my legs up and wide, he said.
“Hold them high.â€Â
I didn’t make a sound, but I obeyed instantly, as the difference between role-play and reality became a total blur.
“Now my little bitch, daddy’s gonna show you what that little pussy and bottom are really made for.â€Â
As he pushed his monster cock into my pussy, I couldn’t hold back my eagerness, and I lifted myself up to meet his thrust. My pussy was wet and wanted to take as much of his mighty cock as it could handle. As with his sons, I could feel my pussy stretching as it opened up my love tunnel. But unlike his sons, he just pushed slowly, and it kind of gave me time to savour the pleasure.
His whole fuck was carried out in this manner, no sense of urgency, but deliberate forceful thrusting, driving his cock deep on every stroke. Then came his cum shots, still slow and deliberate, but now kind of erratic and jerky. His cock softened, and as it slipped out, he slumped his immense body down onto the bed alongside me. My first thoughts were, ‘he’s as bad as Michael, he’s going to leave me unsatisfied’. Then I thought, ‘but so far the only time I’ve ever cum is when I’ve been fuck by two or more men. I must be a whore’.
Then as my mind was still in a turmoil, I felt his big hands on my torso, as he lifted and swung me around in the air, dropping me face down on top of himself. He was on his back head to the pillows, and I was facing down to the foot of the bed. His tongue instantly began to lap at the juices coming from, and around my pussy and bottom. As soon as I realized we were back in business, my hands searched for his cock, and I caressed it until it stiffened enough for my mouth to take over. This mutual licking sucking and general fondling heightened my arousal to the point where I thought I would cum into his mouth. But this wily old fox knew exactly when to stop, leaving me right on the edge.
He again effortlessly lifted me from above himself, and spun me around in the air. As I was lowered down, I faced the ceiling, and knew my head was now back to the pillow end of the bed. I felt his cock slipping back and forth along the slippy wet crevice of my bottom. Each time the big fat end of his cock passed my hole, I felt my bottom open as if it was inviting him to enter. He teased me for what appeared to be an age, but was in reality probably only half a minute. Then when I was beginning to wonder if he was actually going to penetrate me or not, he forced me down without warning.
His mighty cock stretched my bottom to limits it had never before reached, and the scream I let out was not planned, or acting. But as his cock penetrated deep, I could feel his warm cum being shot inside me. As my orgasm was already cocked and primed, it only needed this spark to fire it into action. So as my pussy pulsed violently, spraying it’s cum in all directions, his cock delivered bolt after bolt of warm cum up my bottom. But even though he’d now finished his delivery, my orgasm was still in full swing. He held me on top of himself, his hands encircling my waist, until I’d eventually returned to a normal state.
He now turned me over, and lifted me up his body so my face was level with his.
“Well my dear, I hope that was satisfactory?â€Â
“Oh Mr Holmes, you were wonderful. Oh god, how I wish my Michael could love me like that.â€Â
“You never know my dear, me’be one day he’ll get the idea. But until he does, I think our Peter’s advice is about your best option. And I don’t think it’ll make any difference which one of us is available.â€Â
“You mean I should do this with you or one of your sons every time my Michael leaves me, you know, wanting?â€Â
“I know it’s not me’be what you want to do, but think of the alternative. At least with us, we all love you, and we’d never tell anyone. And who knows, me’be in time your Michael will realize he needs to satisfy your needs as well.â€Â
“Oh god, I do hope so.â€Â
Then as I lay in his arms, he gave me a big strong cuddle and said.
“Come-on then my little beauty, have you had enough, or do you want me to give that little fanny another seeing-to?â€Â
For some silly reason, I blushed as I replied.
“No. I think you’ve cured me for today. It’s about time I went out to the shop and did some work.â€Â
“Well if you’ve had enough, I think it’s too late to worry about the shop, but I could eat a horse, and I bet you’re starving as well. So how about you fix us up with a bite to eat? You’ll find plenty of eggs and bacon in the pantry.â€Â
So some fifteen to twenty minutes later, cleaned down again, and this time dressed in a dress that used to belong to Mr Holmes’s wife, here I am in the kitchen cooking us both a meal. It’s now the middle of the afternoon, and as we sit down at the kitchen table, he looks across and our eyes lock-on to each other’s.
“You’re a right bonny lass.â€Â
I just blushed.
“And you can rustle up a cracking bit of snap (Food).â€Â
“Go on with you and your silly flirting, anyone can do a fry-up.â€Â
“But there’s not many a lass can fuck like you, least ways, spraying your cum like you do.â€Â
I again didn’t answer, but felt the heat burning not only my cheeks, but now my whole neck was aflame.
“I’m telling you, that Michael of yours is one lucky man. If he don’t appreciate what he’s got, then I know I’m too old for you to hitch up to, but either one of my lads ud wed you without thinking twice.â€Â
“Please Mr Holmes. I love my Michael. Don’t talk like this.â€Â
“Ok, but think-on lass, you can’t go through life wanting. Some times it’s better to just admit you caught the wrong bus, get off, and then hop on the right one. At least that way, you’ll get to somewhere you want to be.â€Â
“Please don’t.â€Â
“Ok, I’ve said my piece.â€Â
“When I’ve washed up, I’ll get out to the shop to see if I can give Mrs Miller a hand.â€Â
“No lass, she’ll only wonder about why you’ve changed your clothes. You’d best get off home, and sort yourself out proper before your Michael gets home.â€Â
“Are you sure, it’s not my finishing time yet?â€Â
“Well I guess by rights, you ain’t even started today, but I can’t see as that matters much. No lass, you get yourself back home, and we’ll see you in the morning. And if you need to ask for any kind of help, don’t be shy. You know what I’m a talking about.â€Â
I blushed again as I replied.
“I will. And thank you. I’ll get off now then, see you tomorrow.â€Â
I arrived home before Michael, and so was able to get myself changed and looking respectable before he saw me. I’d already prepared his evening meal, and it was ready for him as he came in, I thought maybe this might make-up for me being late yesterday. While we sat eating our meal, Michael said.
“Oh, about that event they’re organising for this weekend, it looks like the bishop is trying a kind of blackmail.â€Â
“Blackmail? How has the bishop found out about what I did last weekend?â€Â
“No dear, nothing to do with last weekend.â€Â
“Well what do you mean blackmail?â€Â
“He hasn’t put it into so many words, but he was saying things like. ‘There’s no point in thinking about taking an overseas assignment if your wife isn’t totally dedicated to supporting everything you get involved in’.â€Â
“But Michael that isn’t fair, you know I’d support anything you do.â€Â
“I know that my darling, and I can understand why you don’t want to see them men again. But I can hardly explain that to the bishop, and you know how much being given and overseas assignment means to me.â€Â
“Oh Michael, isn’t there any other way?â€Â
“If there was, I wouldn’t have asked you to do this for me.â€Â
“Ok, tell your bloody bishop...â€Â
“Shirley! There’s no need for that language.â€Â
“Well! What do you expect? Just tell him I’ll be there, but don’t expect me to talk to those men.â€Â
“Thank you darling. I’ll do my best to keep them at a distance from you.â€Â
The evening went by in a boring manner, doing housework, and watching a little TV, but as I’d expected, by just gone nine thirty, Michael was asking if I was ready for bed. I stalled him until ten o’clock, but by fifteen minutes past ten, I was alongside the bed asking Michael.
“Do you want me to take my nightdress off?â€Â
“It’s up to you; take it off if it feels more comfortable for you.â€Â
“I don’t mind either way, so I guess if you don’t want me naked, I’ll leave it on.â€Â
“For god’s sake Shirley, we are married; it didn’t appear to bother you too much when those animals told you to get naked.â€Â
“Look Michael, that wasn’t my fault. What happened this weekend was none of my doing. And like you said, we are married, so if you want to see my body, I’m sure you’re not committing any kind of sin.â€Â
With that I removed my nightdress, and walked to the wardrobe, taking my time, knowing Michael was watching my every step. This time I didn’t attempt to pull the covers off him, even if I’d wanted to, I could see his little hands were gripping the other end tightly. I just walked slowly back to the bed and slipped in alongside him, sliding my arm across his chest, and caressing his neck.
“Shirley, what did you really think about when those men were doing what they did to you?â€Â
“What do you mean?â€Â
“I can't understand how you could get so excited and aroused, you didn’t even know them?â€Â
“I don’t know. But be honest, you get aroused by other women?â€Â
“Never. I’ve never so much as looked at another woman.â€Â
“I don’t mean real women, not ones that you’ve met.â€Â
“What then?â€Â
“That film.â€Â
“What film?â€Â
“Look Michael, I don’t mind. I guess it must be natural, something we have no control over.â€Â
“Don’t be so silly, that is what separates us from the animals in this world, we have morals, and make our own decisions.â€Â
“But you got aroused watching that film, are you telling me you wanted to?â€Â
“I don’t even know what film you’re talking about.â€Â
“Michael, remember god is listening to your every word. You remember turning the TV off when the film showed a girl getting raped, and she was about to by a lot more men?â€Â
“Yes, but that was months ago, it was disgusting.â€Â
“That might be true, but as soon as you got me into bed that night, you were already aroused, and you couldn’t wait to have sex with me.â€Â
“I can't remember.â€Â
“Michael! Don’t tell lies. Watching that girl being raped got you aroused.â€Â
“So what if it did?â€Â
“Does that make you an animal?â€Â
“No, of course not.â€Â
“Or are you saying you approved of her being raped, and you wanted to get aroused?â€Â
“No.â€Â
“Its like I said, it must be natural, something we have no control over.â€Â
“But Shirley, we have to try to rise above such things.â€Â
“But if we can’t; that doesn’t make us wicked.â€Â
“But it shows a weakness.â€Â
“And when you got aroused, watching those men abusing me? Aroused enough for them to...â€Â
He butted in not wanting me to finish what I was saying.
“Don’t Shirley. That’s not fair.â€Â
“Why isn’t it, they were forcing me to have sex with them, and you got aroused! Your own wife; and your cock got hard watching those men as they mauled me all over my body.â€Â
“Please Shirley, I I...â€Â
“I know. You couldn’t help it. Well that’s how I felt, I didn’t want them to get me aroused, but they did. And I don’t think that makes me an animal!â€Â
“Oh Shirley, I’m sorry. I don’t know any more.â€Â
“Maybe you don’t,†and as I spoke I wrapped my hand around his rock hard cock, “but I know one thing. Since the weekend, this cock of yours has been active every night. And talking about those men abusing me has only got it more excited.â€Â
“Shirley, please don’t use foul language, it doesn’t sound proper coming from your lips.â€Â
“Foul language? Which word have I used that you’d call foul language?â€Â
“Shirley please. You know what you just said.â€Â
“What? Men abusing me.â€Â
“No, you were talking about my, you know.â€Â
“So that’s it. Men abusing your wife is not foul or disgusting. But a wife talking about her own husbands cock offends your ears? Well if that’s how much you think of me, I’ll go and sleep in the spare room.â€Â
With that I let go of his cock, and began to slide out of the bed.
“Shirley no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Please come back.â€Â
He had reached out and taken hold of my arm, and was gently trying to pull me back to the bed. I resisted his pulling, but didn’t leave the bed; I just sat there naked on the side of the bed. He had pulled himself up onto his elbows, and still had hold of my arm.
“Come back please. I never meant to upset you.â€Â
“If I come back, then you have to listen to what I’m going to say without interrupting me. When I’ve finished, if you don’t like what I’ve said, then I think its time we slept in separate rooms.â€Â
“Shirley no. Don’t be silly, you’re my wife.â€Â
“That’s right Michael, your wife not a slave or servant or your dog. I have feelings. I have opinions. I have rights.â€Â
“Oh dear god, why are you behaving like this?â€Â
“Because I want you to love me, not use me like those men did.â€Â
“Shirley no, don’t say things like that about me.â€Â
“Well are you going to hear what I’ve got to say, or shall I leave your room?â€Â
“Please Shirley, get back into bed. You know it's OUR room. And of course, I want to hear what you have to say.â€Â
“Ok, but no tut’ing or silly remarks about my language. I’m going to use the words normal people use; I want you to know what I mean without silly euphemisms getting in the way, and you getting the wrong end of the stick.â€Â
“Come back and lay beside me, I’ll listen to you, and I promise to do what ever you ask of me.â€Â
As I began to slide back in alongside him.
“Don’t make promises before you hear what I’ve got to say.â€Â
“Come-on darling, if I’ve upset you, just tell me what I’ve done?â€Â
“Ok, before this weekend, I never had and orgasm.â€Â
“Bu...â€Â
“Ah. No interruptions. I never planned for those men to do what they did, and if it hadn’t been for where I got hurt, they would never have got their grubby hands anywhere near my pussy or my tits.â€Â
I could see his face cringing at hearing me uttering those words.
And if they hadn’t got their hands on me, I’d still have no idea what an orgasm is or what it felt like. But you have your orgasm, and deny it if you like, but at least once, you have been thinking of someone other than me when you’ve cum.â€Â
“Well maybe they are right when they say ‘god moves in mysterious ways’. Because god put us up on that hillside, he brought about that storm, he aloud you to fall, he brought those men to that place, and he determined that I should slip on that gate. So it’s my guess he sent those men to show us both that our bodies can give more pleasure than we had realized. So now those men are gone from our lives, he must be expecting you to take my body to the heights of pleasure those men showed me was possible, and not to just satisfy your own lust, and then turn over and go to sleep.â€Â
He looked stunned, and lost for words.
“Well that’s it, that was all I wanted to say. Do you want to fuck me? Or shall I go to the spare room?â€Â
He still looked dazed, and I began to ease myself out of the bed. Suddenly his hand grabbed my arm.
“No. please don’t go. Come back, I’ll do as you want.â€Â
“Will you?â€Â
“Yes. Please come back.â€Â
I slid back in alongside him, and began to work my head under the quilt.
“What are you...â€Â
Before he’d finished, I’d popped my head out and with my face almost touching his. I interrupted his obvious question.
“I’m going to suck your cock, and you’re going to lick my pussy.â€Â
Then without waiting for an answer, I went back under the quilt. As it was he didn’t answer, and I soon had my legs astride his shoulders. As I took his rock hard cock into my mouth, I lowered my pussy to his face. He started very reluctantly, but as I got to work on his cock, he gradually began to work my pussy. It wasn’t an overwhelming success, the pussy licking that is, but at least, with me sucking his first load of cum, it not only got me well on my way, but ensured that when I let him mount me, he’d take that bit longer to cum his second load. And yes he did manage to give me an orgasm, the first one he’d given me. And this time, as he rolled over I cuddled up to him, still dripping cum. And lying in all that sticky wet slime, we both drifted off to sleep.
The mess in the morning was gross, but knowing we’d made love properly for the first time was just like heaven. As usual, I got ready, and set off for work, leaving him still in bed. But I think maybe that is enough for now. There is still more to tell, and although that bloody video is no longer able to be used to blackmail me, the ‘new me’ awakened by those men, appears to be vulnerable to the briefest stimulation. But I’ll tell you more in the next part of my story. That is, of course, providing you don’t think the story is getting stale?
Thanks for reading, and please feel free to email me at Lord_John_Thomas@hotmail.com
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