A Game of Consequences Ch. 08

Her arse was pale and slightly spotty, and was what they used to call 'generous'. But it was firm and not flabby, and when she took up the position, leaning forward with her legs apart, I was most definitely not going to complain. I was already hard without any of Sharon's earlier handiwork, and the rubber went on easily. I lined up and pushed.

Sharon was not what you'd call tight. Having sampled Jill's and Phoebe's quite muscular cunts quite recently, Sharon's was relatively slack. I was able to go in balls-deep on the first thrust. Sharon let out a soft, low moan of "Oh! Oh yes!"

And then I just went for it. I had around seven minutes left to make us both come before Sharon had to go to meet her boyfriend, so I angled my cock to rub on where I was sure her G-spot would be and moved my hand around to cup her pubes and resume my fingering of her clit.

"Oh yes! Oh yes! Fuck me hard! Do it! Do it!" she hissed, clearly trying to keep her voice down.

After about a minute, I smacked her arse with my free hand.

"Mmmm! Oh yes! Do it again!" she gasped. So I did. And again. And again.

"Oh fuck! Not so - not so hard!" she moaned back. "My boyfriend..."

I suddenly realised that leaving red marks on Sharon's pale buttocks might not be the best idea, given that there was a good chance that her boyfriend might be planning to repeat what I was doing to her a little later. If he found my handprints on his girlfriend's arse, he might be inclined to leave fist-marks on my face. So I stopped slapping my slapper and focused on rubbing her clit, while shoving hard and fast with my abs and glutes. Maybe because of the rather scuzzy situation, or perhaps because of Sharon's slack pussy, I didn't feel the need to apply any of my mental control. I knew I could continue for as long as I needed, until Sharon was satisfied, before making the condom do its job.

But even though she was making the right noises, Sharon didn't show any sign of coming. I reached around her and took a handful of tit through her shirt and bra, and although she seemed to like it, it didn't seem to ratchet up the pressure enough to get her there. I glanced at my watch - again, not the most erotic thing to do when you're in the middle of fucking someone - and realised I'd used half the available time. OK, just one thing for it.

I let go of her tit, wetted my thumb in my mouth, and gently touched her pink arsehole. She squealed. I rubbed slowly around the hole. She gasped.

"Dirty - dirty - fucker..." she moaned.

"Yes. Fucking a dirty girl," I murmured in her ear. And then I pushed, and the tip of my thumb slipped inside. And then deeper, up to the first knuckle. In and out, maybe a dozen times as she let out some muffled squeals.

And then she came. My thumb was the first place I noticed it, as her arsehole went into the kind of orgasmic spasm I'd gotten used to with Jill and Phoebe. And, of course, she moaned. And pushed back hard against me. So I just went into overdrive with my thrusts and - oddly - instead of the back of Sharon's head, my mind filled with an image of Jill, coming while I fucked her. It was enough. I came.

After I'd slipped out of her, I reached into my pocket and found a pack of tissues. She wiped her pussy with one and then pulled her skirt back down as I slid the condom off and used another to wipe around my cock. As I was knotting the rubber and wrapping it in the tissue, she leaned in and kissed me. "You're good - better than I thought. I like it good and hard, and you managed that. But you're a dirty bastard. I don't even let my boyfriend stick anything up my bum."

"You should try it. How about tomorrow?"

"Jesus, you're pushing your luck, posh boy! But you've got me in the mood. I might need another good seeing-to pretty soon."

"I've got another condom in my wallet if you're ready now," I joked.

"Cheeky sod! No, I think my boyfriend will get my pussy later. Once I get going, I need a lot of attention." She kissed me again. "And yeah - you were worth a try."

And then she turned and headed back across the yard. I lobbed the discarded condom, still wrapped in its tissue, into one of the tall bins, checked the area and then headed out. I followed Sharon around the corner and watched as she got into a rather scruffy-looking BMW 3-series. The driver had on a t-shirt that showed he had several tattoos on his forearms. This was before tattoos became popular with everyone from politicians to pop stars to schoolteachers. It marked him out as someone not to be messed with.

The next day, Thursday, Sharon came into the store a bit late, but with a smug expression on her face.

"We should shag more often. My boyfriend was so pleased that I went home with no knickers and a wet pussy that he fucked me twice last night."

"Great. So have you had enough cock for one week?"

"Depends on what you're offering. Do you want a repeat?"

"Not behind the bins, thanks."

"Didn't hear you complain yesterday. Have you got a penthouse suite we can go to instead?"

"I just think that maybe, if we can't find anywhere better to go, we should cool it. It felt a bit, er - scuzzy."

"Ooh, get you! I offered you my pussy yesterday and I didn't notice you refusing it because it was scuzzy."

"Look, Sharon, what we did was - it was fun and sexy, but you have a boyfriend and I have a girlfriend and - and having sex behind the dustbins isn't exactly a turn-on."

She gave me a sour look. "OK, Mr Posh Boy - do you want to fuck me or not? And if you do, where do you suggest we should go."

"I don't know. Let me think about it," I replied.

For the rest of the day, she looked as though I'd upset her. She pointedly ignored me during coffee break, and I didn't see her again until tea time.

"So, have you thought about it? I mean, I don't offer it to everyone. If you don't want it, I can always offer it to someone else."

"You mean, like, Darren?"

"Hardly. But there are a few interesting-looking blokes around."

"Bet they don't fuck like I do."

"Yeah, you were OK, I suppose. But you're not interested."

"I didn't say I wasn't interested. I just said that fucking anyone between dustbins isn't something I'd like to repeat."

"Got somewhere better in mind?"

"In the bushes at the park would be better."

"Maybe, but the last time I tried that, we was nearly caught and I got nettle stings."

"OK, OK. I'll look out for somewhere. But what about your boyfriend?"

"What about your girlfriend?"

"My girlfriend is a hundred miles away, I've so far spent less than two days with her and I won't see her again for at least ten days. You, on the other hand, seem to be living with yours and you proudly tell me that he shags you multiple times every night. If you're getting enough, why do you want me as well?"

She seemed to stop and consider her answer. Her rather prickly tone softened.

"Look, Liam's a decent bloke. He looks after me, he's got a house and a car and stuff, and the sex is - well, it's alright, but..."

"Alright? Just alright? Well then, why me?"

"Well, you're, like fit and - and it's fun to - you know..."

"You mean that the thrill of having illicit sex with someone you shouldn't is exciting and too tempting to resist?"

She gave me a strange look. "You don't half use long words. But, well, I suppose - yeah. I mean, if you put it like that..."

"So let's get this straight. If we continue with - with what we've started, it'll be because we both fancy a no-strings shag and it won't turn into an infatuation that could end up with both of us being beaten to a pulp by your boyfriend or me being dumped by my new girlfriend. Right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Right. So, Sharon, I do fancy you. You've got a sexy body and a dirty mind, but as a girlfriend of mine said not long ago, I'm dirty but I'm not squalid. A quick shag behind the dustbins doesn't do it for me, no matter how enticing your pussy is. And I think you're living dangerously. If Liam finds out what we've been doing, you'll find yourself without a home, and I could get severely beaten. I've seen Liam, and I suspect he takes no prisoners. So shall we cool it for a few days until we can at least find somewhere more comfortable and private to meet up?"

And just like that, I'd talked myself out of what might have been another interesting session behind the bins. But, honestly, did I need it? My eighteen-year-old cock wanted to lead me up every interesting alleyway, but my slowly-maturing brain was beginning to understand the consequences of my actions. Yes, it was flattering to have Sharon flirt with me and even allow me to fuck her, but with upcoming liaisons with both Jill and Phoebe on the horizon, surely it was more important that I could get it - and keep it - up and keep both ladies coming.

I parked the issue, reminding myself that a few thrusts into Sharon might lead to a few punches and kicks from Liam, which I wasn't relishing.

On Friday, just as I was leaving for work, another letter arrived from Phoebe. I put it in my pocket and waited until I was on my own at morning coffee break before opening it.

Hello you!

Well, you're definitely quite an artist, Mr Watson. It's amazing what you can turn your hand to. I remember you turning your hand to rub my clitoris and to get 'down and dirty' with my anus last week, and now it seems you're able to provide some very artistic renditions of our adventures and of your honourable member. And I have been thinking quite a lot about that honourable member and the very dishonourable things it did to me. I've had to get out my trusty instrument of divine torture and try to simulate its actions - and to stimulate the parts that, at present, you can't reach. Sadly, it lacks girth and flexibility, which is a source of some frustration.

But dear Richard, I am quite desperate to become reacquainted with your close friend Dick as soon as possible. I'm trying to hatch a plan that will enable me to get fucked to within an inch of my life when you visit in - OH MY GOD - OVER A WEEK! My panties get soaked every time I think about it, but it's such a LOOOONG time! Is there no way you get to me and up me sooner, PLEEEEEEEASE?

A young lady from Leamington Spa

Goes out without panties or bra

With her cunt-juices flowing

She knows she's soon going

To spread her legs wide and say "AAAAH!"

And yes, I HAVE been going out without underwear and masturbating in public places, just to get the thrill of the forbidden; somehow, after what we did last week, fucking myself with my vibrator in my bedroom isn't thrilling enough anymore. Sometimes I see a boy who looks interesting and I just want to drag him into the bushes, spread my legs and offer myself up to be ravished - but what I most want is YOU. I've included a few more pictures, which I hope will provide you with suitable masturbation material. Please respond in kind.

It's such a pity that you don't have a private phone, because I'd love to hear you tell me some filthy things while I work my vibrator in and out of my cunt. Please, please at least tell me filthy things in your letter and then in person when you're on top of me, on my bed, thrusting Dick in and out of my under-used fuck-hole.

Yours, affectionately

Horny Slut

The two enclosed photos were just as bad - or as erotic, depending on your standpoint - as the previous batch. One of Phoebe in a garden, sitting with her legs apart, not wearing panties, and taken from such an angle that you could see straight up her skirt. And with an expression of complete innocence on her face. The other was of her lying naked on a bed, her legs lifted and spread, with a vibrator half embedded in her vagina.

"Is that your girlfriend? She's a bit skinny." I hadn't noticed Sharon approaching, but she was looking over my shoulder. I hurriedly collected up the photos and letter and slipped them into my pocket. "And that reminds me. There's a new Ann Summers place opened and I need a vibrator. The last one broke 'cos I used it too much."

I was embarrassed that Sharon had seen the pictures, but there wasn't a lot I could say. Sharon sat down beside me and leaned in, conspiratorially.

"Found anywhere you want to fuck me?"

"You know where I want to fuck you. There's a hole between your legs..."

She gave me an exasperated look. "Only, like, it's Darren's day off, and we're on the same breaks today. So if you're not hungry and you'd be happy with a liquid lunch, meet me in the stockroom at one o'clock."

*****

I've eaten tastier pussies than Sharon's. She wasn't as clean as I'd have liked, and she was quite hairy. Jill kept her pussy neatly trimmed, Phoebe's was alluring free of hair and even Steph's muff was relatively sparse, but Sharon's was what you might call 'luxuriant'. Obviously, I'd noticed this when I'd fucked her by the dustbins, but that was when I was behind her and, once I'd parted her thick, dark curls with my rubber-clad cock, I didn't really notice; I was too busy thrusting. When it's quite literally right in your face, you can't help but notice. But hey, I was eating pussy, and as I'm a vaginarian, that's something I've always enjoyed.

It seemed that Sharon was enjoying it too, judging by the noises she was making. But I guess if you're a girl and someone has his tongue on your clit and two fingers in your wet fuck-hole, you have a right to feel pretty happy. She was leaning back against the shelves in the stockroom, one leg over my shoulder as I knelt on the floor, skirt pulled up to her waist, panties carefully deposited in her handbag. And moaning, albeit softly.

"Ooh yes! Oh, just like that! Oh fuck, that feels nice."

I'm not sure that 'nice' would correctly describe what I was doing to Sharon. I mean, I had two fingers up her cunt, my tongue lapping at her clit and then, when I felt she was ready, I inserted another finger up her tight little arse. But by then, Sharon was largely out of it. She was murmuring things like "Oh my God! Oh yes! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!"

I was in no position to say "Yes, I'd like to fuck you," because my tongue was otherwise engaged, while two fingers were rubbing her g-spot quite hard and another digit was enthusiastically finger-fucking her arsehole. But Sharon did what was required, and came rather satisfyingly. There was a small gush of juices which, with the noises coming from Sharon's mouth and the pulsing in her arse, told me I'd achieved the required objective. I let her continue for some time before she begged me to stop.

In return for my oral skills, I'd expected a repeat of the 'behind the bins'-style doggy fuck, but Sharon had other ideas.

"No, I don't like to get fucked too soon after I've come. I can get sore quite quickly. But how about this?"

She dropped to her knees, unzipped my trousers and, before I knew it, my cock was in her mouth. I was already half-hard from practising vaginarianism, and I became fully hard very quickly. Sharon's mouth felt amazing. Jill's skilled blowjob and Phoebe's enthusiastic deep sucking were good, but Sharon was not only well-practised at oral sex but she apparently enjoyed it. With Phoebe's larger-than-average mouth and her lack of gag reaction, which brought me to orgasm amazingly quickly, there had been just the occasional sensation of her teeth grazing my cock. Sharon managed to keep everything soft and wet. And deep. We'd been going for about a minute when she started making gagging noises, and I felt pressure on the head of my cock. She started shaking her head from side to side, and I was about to pull back, thinking I'd gone too deep, but then - oh my God - I pushed through her throat and her nose hit my pubes. I say 'I pushed through', but what actually happened was that Sharon forced her throat open to accommodate my cock head and engulfed me. After a few moments of this erotic bliss, she pulled right back to kiss my cock-head, and I thought she'd had enough and would just finish me with her hand and maybe her tongue. Wrong! A few sucks later, she travelled the length of my cock. I felt her wet, flexible tongue pressing on my frenulum as she slowly pushed down and took all of me in, forcing the head of my cock once again into her wet, tight gullet. A few nods of her head later and I moaned in erotic delirium as my cock was wracked by a powerful sequence of pulses and I emptied my balls straight down her oesophagus.

Finally, I pulled my softening cock from Sharon's mouth and slumped back onto the shelves on the other side of the narrow aisle. "Fuck, Sharon, that was - that was amazing!"

"Bet your skinny girlfriend can't do that," Sharon replied, rather hoarsely as she stood up.

"My God, Sharon, I'm not sure there are too many women in this country who can do that," I replied, still breathless.

"Glad you're impressed. And you did alright, too."

I helped her to her feet, reached for the tissues, offered her a couple and wiped her juices off my face with another.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Oh, you know - practice. First time I did it, Liam kind of forced his cock in, and I nearly puked. After we'd done it a few times I started to like it. You know, 'cos I was the one who could do that for my boyfriend. Made me feel good. Now I do it to show off."

I began to wonder about Sharon's relationship with Liam. She seemed to feel she was getting a good deal from it, with a bloke who was solvent, had a car and could provide her with a home. But it looked like there was a brutal side to his nature. And two days later, I got a vivid illustration of this, when she came to work with a fat lip and a black eye.

"What happened?"

"Walked into a door. It ain't nothin'."

"Was the door called Liam?"

She turned on me. "Look, fuck off, Richard. It's none of your fucking business."

I could take a hint. Later, I sat beside her at tea.

"Come on Sharon, spill the beans. Why did he do this to you?"

"I told you to fuck off," she said, more with resignation than anger.

"I did. I fucked off all day, and I'll fuck off again later. I'm very good at fucking off; I've been practising it all my life. But for now, I'd like to know why Liam hit you. Was it anything to do with me?"

"Think a lot of yourself, don't ya?" She gave me a sour look. "If you must know, he caught me talking to an ex at the bar in the pub. Gary had his hand on my arm, and Liam saw red. Gary ended up on the floor with a broken nose, and Liam started kicking him. When I begged him to stop, Liam hit me. The police were called. They kept him in overnight, but Gary didn't press charges. When they asked me, I said it was all a mistake. But it wasn't. He looks after me, but he's jealous. I think me and you should cool it. If Liam found out, he'd..."

"I'm sure he would. Look, I don't mind. What we did was fun - I mean, you give the best blowjobs ever, and I hope Liam's grateful for that. But neither of us needs a trip to A&E, and you'd be taking a bigger risk than me, so can we just go back to being friendly colleagues?"

She gave me a weak smile.

I went home, worried about what Sharon had been through. Despite my happy memories of Sharon's cunt and throat, I told myself that the ripples from that particular pebble had to be damped down immediately or we'd both suffer. These things had consequences, not all of them good, some of them scary. And the regret was softened by the knowledge that I had the opportunity to sample the orifices of two other women over the next two weekends, and that I was an extremely fortunate - not to say greedy - young man.

At around eight, the phone rang. It was Phoebe.

"Well, Richard, I have to say that you're rivalling Aubrey Beardsley and Gustav Klimt. You should have a special exhibition. Only you'd need to draw a mask over my face or everyone would see that I'm a slut, and so far, you're the only one who knows it."