Shameful Thrills. Various

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Shameful Thrills - Various


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process. Would the cards he held affect his strategy, and change the course of the evening?

      ‘I’ll see you,’ Michael said, Geoff having folded with a rueful shake of his head.

      Robin laid out his cards. Three kings and two fives. ‘Full house.’

      Geoff, at least, was impressed, but the smile on Robin’s face faded as Michael counted out his own cards in sequence. Ace, king, queen, jack and ten. All hearts. ‘Royal flush. Sorry, Robin, you lose.’

      I couldn’t help thinking Robin didn’t look as disappointed as he might, had they been playing for serious money. He just sat back, and waited for me to give Michael his winnings.

      Again, I took as long as I possibly could easing out of my panties, legs tight together so they only got the merest flash of my secret places. That morning, dreaming of all the wonderfully filthy things Robin and I would do when he finally got me alone, I’d trimmed the hair on my mound into a cute heart shape. It had never occurred to me when I reached for the razor that the sight might not be for his eyes only.

      Keeping one hand over my pussy, trying to preserve some scrap of my modesty, I passed my panties to Michael. Just as Geoff had done with my bra, he put them to his nose and breathed in, inhaling my scent as though to imprint it on his memory for all time.

      ‘Darlin’, you’re truly beautiful,’ he told me, ‘but the way you’re standing, I just can’t get the answer to the question that’s been bothering me all night. You see, I’m really keen to know if you’re a natural blonde …’

      The implication was obvious. A flush rising to my cheeks, I took my hand away from my pussy. Michael’s gaze seemed to penetrate between my legs as though it was laser guided, seeking out my hidden treasures. In response, I simply grew wetter, turned on beyond belief. I’d never been completely naked in front of three fully dressed men before, and though I felt so vulnerable and ashamed at how easily I’d been persuaded to undress for them, my body burned with uncontrollable desire.

      They must have known in that moment I would do whatever they wanted me to, needing the feel of their hands on my body, their cocks in my mouth, my cunt, wherever they chose. Robin, though, seemed determined to make me wait for that pleasure.

      At that moment, the selection of tunes he’d programmed into the jukebox came to an end, replaced by a tense, anticipatory silence.

      ‘Would anyone like to hear more music, or shall I ask Juliette to unplug the jukebox for the night?’

      The general clamour seemed to be for the latter, and when I glanced over at the jukebox I realised why. With the socket low down on the skirting board, I’d have to get down on all fours to pull the plug. In that position, I’d be giving them a perfect view of the wet pouch of my pussy from behind. Any thought of objecting disappeared when they rose as one from their chairs, revealing trouser crotches straining at the seams.

      I dropped to my knees and crawled over to the wall, knowing perfectly well their eyes would be glued to my bare arse and the dark cleft between it. Someone groaned, and I thought I heard the grating sound of a zip coming down, but I didn’t look over my shoulder to see whose excitement had got the better of him. After flicking off the switch, shutting the jukebox down, I waited for my next instruction.

      Instead, I felt hands gripping my bum cheeks from behind, kneading and flexing them. ‘So fuckin’ gorgeous.’ The American-accented tones let me know it was Michael who groped me. He’d won the poker game and now he was claiming the real prize of the evening: the chance to be the first of the three to fuck me.

      There was so much I didn’t know about this man, I thought, as his hand burrowed deep between my thighs. Was he married? If so, did his wife turn a blind eye to his indiscretions, in the same way Robin’s appeared to? At that point, none of it mattered. ‘Where do you want me?’ was all I asked, feeling two of his fingers sliding up into my cunt and a third probing at the entrance to my arse.

      Michael guided me over to the sofa, positioning me over one of the arms so my backside jutted out, cunt primed and ready for him. He didn’t waste any time, just extracted his cock from his jeans and pushed into me with one long, easy thrust. I cried out at the sweetness of the penetration, finally getting what I’d craved from the moment my panties had finally come off.

      As he fucked me with fast, jabbing strokes, Robin and Geoff came close, stroking their own erections as they waited for their turn. I couldn’t help noticing that Robin’s dick was every bit as big as I’d suspected when I’d taken the sneaky peek in his bathroom that had set this whole perverse chain of events in motion. Even though Michael was warming me up so beautifully, I’d really feel the thickness of it stretching my walls apart.

      My tits bounced with every stroke, and my clit was a hard bead of sensation, responding to the stimulation of my own rapidly rubbing fingers. I tried to let my audience know how good this sustained fucking felt and how much I needed to have them inside me, too, but my words came out as garbled moans. Michael stepped up the pace, thrusts growing more erratic, and I knew he was on the verge of coming. He pulled out of my cunt, and I looked back over my shoulder to see him give his cock a couple of furious tugs before his spunk shot out to decorate the small of my back in pearly strings.

      As he stepped back, spent and grinning with satisfaction, Geoff rushed to take his place. The skilled hands that more usually gripped dental tools smoothed over the curves of my hips and arse, and I expected to feel the fat head of his cock sliding up where Michael’s had so recently been. Instead, he gave my bum an affectionate slap before moving round to my head. When he pushed his cock between my lips, encouraging me to suck, I felt the first sweet spasms of orgasm gripping me. But my passion peaked at the moment Robin entered my pussy with a series of short, assured thrusts.

      As he slid home, packing me to the hilt with his hot sturdy length, I experienced for the first time the thrill of being full at both ends. I gripped the arm of the sofa.

      ‘Thank you, Juliette,’ he murmured, ‘for being everything I’d hoped you’d be – and more.’

      I’d had no idea when I’d rung his doorbell earlier that my evening would turn out like this, with a cock plugging away relentlessly in my cunt while I licked and slurped on another. And with Michael stripping out of his clothes and slipping something onto his dick that I knew to be a cock ring, designed to keep his reviving erection hard for as long as he needed, the fun wasn’t over, not by a long way.

      Together, these three men had introduced me to the pleasure of humiliation, teaching me there was honour in shame and fulfilment in submission. And with these boys-only evenings a regular fixture in their diaries, I could only wonder what other delightfully deviant experiences might be on the cards for me in future.

      The Auction

      Janine Ashbless

      She should have been able to see the stars. They were deep in the wastelands and it was late night by the time they came to put her up on stage, so the stars must have been beautiful. But the compound lights were so fierce that when she was dragged out by the two men and looked round, blinking, all she could see were the lights themselves, the crowd and a glimpse of the chain link fences beyond. Fires burned in old oil drums and their smoke made the light hazy. No stars, no desert hills, no escape.

      The crowd whooped and roared. Someone sounded an air horn from the top of a beat-up Humvee.

      ‘Well,’ said the auctioneer, coming forwards to take her from her handlers. ‘Let’s get a look at our next lot, shall we?’

      All evening she’d watched the other prisoners being taken up out of the display pen, one by one. Between lots there had been pounding music, whipping the crowd up. She was almost the last to go.

      ‘We’ve got ourselves a pretty little copperhead here,’ the auctioneer said, taking her elbow and steering her to the front of the stage. His other hand held a sweating beer bottle just as casually. He was a lanky man with a shaved head and tattoos that crawled over every bulge of his muscled arms, and he


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