A Screw Up

For an intelligent man my father can manage to screw-up where-ever it's possible to screw-up, and even in situations where it's not possible. I think that the only thing he ever did right was to marry my mother. She's now amongst the deceased and probably relieved that she doesn't have to watch him screw-up any more.

Last year dad got married again and that's another screw-up as far as I can see. Damned if I know what she can see in him, feckless screw-up that he is, but he is loaded with charisma and charm. He's always been able to pull the ladies, which is why I was surprised that he actually bothered to get married. Of course, I know what he saw in her. Twenty, blonde, and a very nice figure that included enormous boobs. The only thing she wasn't over-endowed with was intelligence and morals. (Okay, that last is a bit catty as I had no proof that she was lacking in morals. Suspicion doesn't count.)

I was eighteen and did not require a mother who was only two years older than me. I made it clear that we could be friends, but only friends. A mother/daughter relationship was just not on. She was fine with that as she didn't really want the responsibility of having a daughter.

I had a job that was reasonably well paid and it came with prospects of advancement. Knowing how my father operated I made damn sure to keep my finances totally separate from his, bluntly refusing to lend him money. Where money was concerned I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. One armed. With a broken arm, at that. I was saving hard, always willing to work overtime, and I was accumulating a nice little nest-egg. Soon I'd be able to get a place of my own and leave dear old dad and sweet young Fiona to their domestic bliss.

One evening the doorbell rang and I answered. There were three men standing there when I opened the door. They were all rather large men, especially the man at the front. They were quite well dressed and looked respectable. (Not all dad's visitors did.) Still I was wondering about their respectability when I noticed how tough the three of them looked.

The man in front was obviously in charge and he gave a very solid appearance. Tall and wide and muscular, with a charming smile. I'd had experience with dad's charming smile and didn't trust them one little bit. The other two men were also muscular and if they hadn't been dressed so nicely I'd have marked them down as hired thugs, especially as they were looking a little grim faced.

"Good evening," said the lead man. "I'm Thomas. Your father does some work for me occasionally. Is he home right now?"

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "He called earlier saying he had to make a sudden trip. It may be a day or two before he gets back."

"I see. Would you be Fiona, his wife?"

"Spare me," I muttered. "No, I'm Chris, his daughter. Would you like to talk to Fiona? She's in the kitchen." (Trying to cook, but I didn't mention that.)

"That's an excellent idea," he said, and I turned my head to call for Fiona.

An error on my part, it turned out, as he marched straight past me while my head was turned, his two men following him in.

"Hey, you can't just barge in," I protested.

He turned to look at me, still smiling.

"My bad," he said. "I thought that you invited us in. Now that we are here we might as well continue and speak to Fiona."

He and his men marched down the hall, probably identifying the kitchen as the only room that had lights on. I trailed along behind, feeling a little irritable.

"Mrs Hopkins?" Thomas said as soon as he entered the kitchen. "I'm Thomas. Your husband does odd jobs for me."

"Oh, hullo. Call me Fiona. I never stand on formalities."

"Thank you, Fiona. Now there was an unfortunate little incident at work and I wanted to discuss it with your husband."

"Oh, dear. No-one hurt, I hope."

"No, Fiona. No-one hurt. Some damage to a car, that's all. Ah, Chris says that Mike is away for a couple of days?"

"Oh, yes, that's right. He rang up and left a message saying he had to attend to something out of town and that it was rather urgent. Two or three days, he said."

"Yes, I can understand that you have to leave urgently sometimes. Let me explain what happened. You know that Mike does detailing work sometimes?"

Fiona nodded and Thomas continued.

"He's very good at it and today he was working on my Lamborghini. Unfortunately he thought that he should take it on a test run after he'd finished working on it."

"Oh, yes," said Fiona. "He's very thorough when he does something."

Detailing a car does not require a test run afterwards. Dear old dad just couldn't resist driving the Lambo. Another screw-up that ten seconds of thought would have prevented.

"Unfortunately, he had a minor accident while he was driving. No-one was hurt but there was some damage that we'd like to discuss with him."

"Oh, insurance will cover that," Fiona said.

"Except for the excess," I chimed in. "How much is the excess and who's fault was the accident."

"On that car? Ten thousand. We have to assume that Mike was at fault. We're pretty sure that the tree he hit wasn't speeding. The insurance people may want to talk to him as well."

Dad was so screwed.

"Um, how much damage was there?" I asked.

Thomas looked at me, pulled a wry face, and gave me a thumbs-down sign. In other words it was a write-off.

"Ah what model was it?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"An Aventador," said Thomas, still smiling.

I didn't feel like smiling. Even with my scanty knowledge of cars I just knew that an Aventador was one of the more expensive models. Up near the million dollar mark probably. Yes. Dear old dad was so totally screwed.

"You can understand why I came around to discuss the matter with him and explain why his borrowing the car was a bad idea."

Looking at the two thugs with him and, nice clothes or not, that's what they were, I knew what that discussion would have involved. I didn't blame dad for running. I felt like running myself.

"Since Mike is not here I'll have my compatriots explain thing to you, Fiona. You can pass the message on to Mike."

Oh, no. That wasn't happening. I wouldn't let it.

"Excuse me, sir, but what about the daughter? Two of them, two of us."

"You obviously can't count. Two of them, three of us. You two explain to the lovely Fiona. I'll explain to the charming Chris."

The two brutes laughed and moved over to stand either side of Fiona.

"Don't you dare," I snapped at them. I'd have charged over to give her a hand but Thomas had a hold of my arm.

"Don't worry. They're not going to beat her up. Neither am I going to beat you up. That's not my way."

I gave him a suspicious look waiting for the sucker punch. It came.

"They're just going to strip her and make love to her. She'll probably enjoy it."

Fiona finally caught on to the fact that she had a problem.

"You can't strip me," she gasped. "I'm married."

"Fiona," said Thomas, "they don't care. Consider it this way. Would you rather get undressed yourself or have them tear your clothes taking them off, because they are coming off."

Fiona looked at each of us. I just gave a helpless little shrug when she looked at me. The two brutes had their backs to me so I couldn't see what Fiona saw, but when she looked at them I saw her eyes drop and she blushed rather fiercely. Did they already have their cocks on display? From the look on Fiona's face I'd go with a yes.

"Um, I'll do it myself," she grumbled, and started undoing her blouse.

I'd expected at least some argument but no, she just surrendered and started stripping. She'd just taken off her blouse when I found my voice again.

"Hey! That's my bra. Why are you wearing my bra?"

"You never wear this one, that's why. It suits me."

"Well I can't wear it now, can I? You'll have stretched it all out of shape."

Fiona just shrugged and took the bra off, her breasts bouncing about.

"Satisfied? I'm not wearing it."

"What are you waiting for?" Thomas asked, giving me a nudge.

"What?"

"Your clothes. They need to come off. Do you want me to rip them off?"

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"You both seem to be a little slow on the uptake. My boys will entertain Fiona while I'll be entertaining you. Now, your clothes."

"You can't do that. I'm not responsible for my father's deeds."

"Strictly speaking, neither is Fiona. That's not helping her, now is it."

A glance at Fiona showed that she was now naked with the brutes running their hands over her body. Even more annoying she seemed to be watching what they were doing with some interest (and enjoyment).

A pair of hands took hold of the neck of my t-shirt.

"Your choice. Do I rip or will you take it off?"

"All right," I snapped, and proceeded to take off my t-shirt. I did not want to lose that one. It was one of my favourites.

"Good girl. Now just keep on going."

Oddly enough it was a lot easier to keep on stripping once I'd started. I wasn't wearing much so it wasn't long and I was naked (except for shoes).

By this time Fiona was bent over the table with one of the brutes behind her, his arms around her as he fondled her breasts. Fiona also seemed to be bouncing about, as was the brute behind her. It was blatantly obvious that he was in the process of fucking her quite energetically. (Note that I say fucking, not raping. The way she was giggling and carrying on no rape was involved. For my part, however.)

"I want to go on record that I totally refuse to have sex with you," I informed Thomas. "If you go ahead with this I'll press formal charges."

Thomas turned me to face the table and pushed me forward so I was leaning over it. His hand slid over my bottom and between my legs, where he started to rub me most intimately.

"You say that now," he said, "but you probably won't. Even if you're silly enough to do so it's four against one. The courts have to go with the weight of the evidence."

"Stop touching me," I gasped. "What do you mean, four against one?"

"I like touching you. I'm finding you quite responsive. Well, on one hand we have you claiming it's rape. On the other hand we have me, my men, and Fiona, saying you agreed."

"I am not responding. What do you mean, Fiona will back you?"

"Look at her. She's having fun. If I tell her to say you agreed and wave some money at her she'll say you agreed."

I looked at Fiona and she certainly didn't seem to be having any regrets about having Brute 1's cock stuck inside her. She was still giggling away, and I could see her bottom was bouncing up and down as he had his fun. Would she lie about what happened if Thomas bribed her? What was I thinking? Of course she would.

Thomas's free hand had reached around and he was stroking my breasts. I was infuriated to see that my nipples were reacting, standing out proudly. Despite myself I found that I like having my breasts fondled. At least, I seemed to like the way Thomas was stroking them.

Even if I ignored my breasts, which I couldn't, there was no way I could ignore the way Thomas was playing with my pussy. He'd started by just rubbing it and then moved on to exploring, his fingers dipping between the folds of flesh and slipping between my lips, stroking me internally.

I was twisting about, trying to move away from him, but I had nowhere to go. I sensed that he was just amused by my movements, quite happy to let me writhe. When his wandering fingers touched down too close to an excessively tender spot I gave a small yelp, and my writhing picked up pace.

"Oh, did you like that?" asked Thomas, sounding happy. "I guess I found your clitoris. Sensitive little thing, isn't it."

Anything that I might have said would have been lost as Fiona chose that moment to scream out her climax. Bitch. She could at least pretend to object to her ravishment.

I found myself letting out another small yelp as Thomas started paying more attention to my clitoris. Unbearable excitement was being raised down there and there was nothing I could do about it. I was twisting about, trying to get away from those probing fingers and finding out that was probably a mistake as I was as likely to shift into the wrong position (from my point of view) as the right one.

My attention was inadvertently brought back to Fiona when I heard Brute 2 telling her to hop on. I looked over at her and I couldn't believe it. Fiona was standing, facing him, and as I watched she put her arms around his neck and lifted herself up (with his help, his hands on her bottom).

From that point she just let herself be lowered, and I could see his cock, rearing up and waiting. She quite happily settled down onto it, giving a little squeal as she did so, and it certainly wasn't a squeal of protest.

My attention was brought smartly back to my own predicament when I felt Thomas moving my lips apart, and that sure wasn't a finger that was now touching me. I gave a helpless little cry of, "No," and he started pushing into me.

I have to admit that he'd got me aroused enough to facilitate his entry. Reluctantly aroused, but definitely aroused, and he was pushing smoothly into place. I wasn't sure what to expect, being a virgin and all that, but all I felt was some pressure, something gave way, and his cock continued to slide smoothly into place.

Just like that I'd gone from blushing virgin to having this ginormous cock inside me. Like any innocent young thing I'd sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a man stick his cock inside me. What would it feel like? Would it hurt? How big did those things get? Would it fit? I'd never had a satisfactory answer, it being one of those things you had to actually experience.

Well, I was now experiencing it. What did it feel like? Strange, is the only thing I can say. Once you've experienced it you'll know what I mean. Would it hurt? Not in my case, that was for sure. How big? Too big in my opinion. Would it fit? Apparently, even if I did feel as though I'd been stretched all out of shape to make it fit. I guess my questions were answered, all but the last one -- What now?

I found out pretty quickly. I could feel Thomas withdrawing, which surprised me somewhat. It also felt very strange to feel his cock sliding along my passage. Then he stopped withdrawing and was returning once again, this time coming into me a lot faster, giving a slapping sound as his groin hit me. I can honestly say I found the feel of him driving back in even stranger than his initial entry. My lady bits seemed to be perking up and taking a deep abiding interest in what he was doing.

After a few thrusts he paused, leant over me, and whispered in my ear.

"You can move with me of your own accord, or I can slap your bottom with the rhythm I want you to maintain. Your choice."

That's when I remembered that according to what I read both of us were supposed to move in unison, not me just stand there while he plugged away. If I wanted evidence of that I had plenty in the way Fiona had been bouncing under Brute 1. A quick glance in her direction and I added an addendum. And the way she was bouncing up and down Brute 2's pole, with some enthusiasm, I might say.

So I started pushing to meet Thomas when his cock came thundering into me and now my lady bits were nodding in agreement. Yes, they seemed to say. This is the way to go.

My excitement was rising, whether I would or no. Thomas was having his fun, his cock slapping home and his hands enjoying the feel of my breasts. He was well into his little adventure. I wondered how long this would last.

Seeing Fiona was giving out with another scream and another orgasm I was guessing not long.

I was wrong. Thomas seemed able to just keep on going, his cock slapping home, his hands squeezing and stroking my breasts. I was getting more and more wound up, sensations from my breasts travelling down and joining with the heat rising up from my groin. It seemed to me that my blood was heating throughout my body, Thomas's cock igniting a fire deep inside me, stoking it until I was set to explode.

I heard him give a gasp and his rhythm changed, and I knew he was climaxing, shooting his sperm deep inside me. Just the knowledge of what was happening was apparently enough to push me over the edge and I gasped as I climaxed, a hand jammed against my mouth to stop myself screaming. There was no way I could have imagined how I'd feel in a situation like this.

Thomas pulled away, leaving me leaning on the table, breathing heavily. I looked over at Fiona and she wasn't there. Brute 2 was there, looking down, but Fiona and Brute 1 weren't. I couldn't help myself. I stood on my toes and peered over the other side of the table.

Fiona was on her hands and knees, Brute 1 kneeling behind her, his cock plunging into her again and again, while her bottom was bouncing up and down, and I could hear her giggling again. This was her third ravishment and she still seemed ready to roll with it.

"We'll be going now," Thomas said. "Do tell your father that I'd like to speak to him regarding payment of the excess. You two coming?"

"Ah, yes, boss. Just waiting for Tony. He shouldn't be long."

He was right. Brute 1 finished up his second turn on Fiona, who was squealing out her third climax.

The three of them were about to leave when Thomas turned back.

"By the way, Fiona. Do discourage young Chris from complaining about this little visit. If she does complain deny it and say it was all voluntary. You'll find that much more rewarding."

I glared at Fiona but she smiled and shrugged.

"What's done is done and you can't change it," she told me. "Complain by all means. I can use some extra cash."

I gave her a killing look and then gave the same look to Thomas.

"Not a bad lethal glare," he told me. "It sort of loses a certain something when you do it while naked."

They left, leaving me feeling furious. Also oddly lethargic, an after effect of being fucked so comprehensively, I think. I sighed. Complaining wouldn't get me anywhere and I knew it. Also it could have some negative impacts on my father. Not on Fiona, mind you. If those brutes came back she'd probably welcome them.