Heather's Late Again and Pays Ch. 02

Heather 2

I woke up with a mild headache. Mixing Xanax with liquor was not the most brilliant move on my part; I know those guys used me, but I don't remember the details, just that all my holes had been used. I was so thankful Phil had picked me up and brought me to his house. I probably should have let him fuck me to show my appreciation, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I slept soundly until morning.

There was a soft knock at the door; it was Phil with some coffee and donuts, he was very attentive and would do anything I asked, but there was just no spark. I felt so bad for him and knew how much he loved me, so I couldn't just use him; knowing how he felt about me wouldn't be right.

During the night, I removed my robe and found a medium tee shirt in the closet. I pulled it on; it fit me like a second skin; my tits looked like they were trying to rip the shirt open.

Phil handed me my coffee, he was trying to be cool, but he couldn't take his eyes off my chest. My nubs were hard as erasers from the silky tee shirt. I slowly started pulling the blanket up, saying I was cold, but even under the blanket, the way I was laying, my boobs were forming a small mountain range.

Phil said I could stay as long as I wanted to and even offered to get my clothes from Jack's house. I said, "No, I didn't want anyone there when I returned."

Jack had a short temper, among other things, and he was strong; I didn't want Phil getting hurt. I must say Jack had never hit me, other than spanking, which most of the time I liked, but I still didn't want to risk it.

I stayed in bed all day, mainly because when I stood up, I started getting dizzy. Phil brought me a sandwich and water and cared for me, even washing and drying my panties. Then, it dawned on me that my only clothes were a skirt and a nylon top. I was so embarrassed when I realized I had left my garter belt and nylons in the bathroom with my heels. What must he think?

Phil returned around six and asked me if I wanted a pizza for dinner. I said sure, and I told him I would get dressed. He said "ok" and was going to put some music on. The top was too tight to wear without a blazer, and I certainly didn't feel like a skirt and all the nuisance of stockings and heels. I found an oversized robe in the closet; I put my bra on under the tee shirt, aware that every detail was visible; there was no way this robe was coming off.

Phil seemed disappointed I wasn't wearing my skirt, we ate silently. Finally, he asked what the plan was for today.

I asked if I could stay one more night, and I would leave in the morning. He happily agreed and nervously said I could permanently move in with him. I knew I shouldn't do it, but I leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek, inadvertently brushing his arm with my tits. He looked up at me, put his hand on the back of my head, and pulled me toward him.

I weakly tried to stop him,

whispering, "Phil, please don't,"

But he continued to pull me until our lips were touching, he tried to force his tongue in my mouth, but I clamped my mouth shut; he finally released me, and with a hurt look on his face, he said,

"What's wrong with me?"

"It's not you; it's me," I cried, running back to my room, closing the door, breaking down crying.

I finally regained my composure. laying there, I thought I should have been nicer to him; he had saved my life. Also, I had no other place to go.

I crept down the hall, I could see the tv was on, and Phil seemed to be sleeping. There was a half-bottle of Tequila at his feet. How could I thank him without him thinking I had feelings for him?

I went into the kitchen, looking for something to drink. The only thing I could find was a bottle of gin.

I had too much gin once when I was at a party, and the only thing I remember was waking up with my vomit and more than one guy's cum, all over me. But I was desperate and made myself a gin and tonic.

Three drinks and an hour later and I was blitzed. I heard Phil getting up; I was sitting in my bedroom, right now too dizzy to stand. He knocked softly, and I said, "Come in, Phil."

The both of us were drunk, and much to my surprise, he laid down on the bed next to me; he was careful not to touch me.

I screwed up my courage and said, "Thank you for saving my ass yesterday; I paused, casting my eyes down; if you want, I'll do something for you?"

He was shaking, " You know what I want." He mumbled. "I've never had sex with a woman; I always hoped my first would be you."

I didn't want to start crying but felt terrible for him.

I got up, a little unsteady, saying, "I've got a little surprise for you; I'll be back in a few minutes."

I went into the bathroom, brushed my hair, and put some makeup on. I said, "fuck it," and put my stockings on. If I was sober, I never would have done it. I took the tee shirt off; and walked out of the bathroom; I thought Phil's eyes would pop out. I slipped into my heels and stood before him in my garter belt, nylons, matching black lace bra, and panties.

It's strange; I know how it affects guys when a woman puts on stockings; they're horny in a second. But now I noticed that wearing nylons had the same effect on me.

"I can't have sex with you, I'm too sore from yesterday, but I'll suck your cock and you can cum on me if you want.

He set the record for dropping his pants; I fell to my knees and opened my mouth, swirling my tongue over his rock-hard dick. I made sure to moan and fake gag, saying how big his dick was. I knew he wouldn't last long. He shook and held my head tightly, moving my head up and down. It wasn't even two minutes before he erupted in my mouth. I couldn't swallow fast enough. He pulled out, spraying my poor face. Only a guy in his twenties could have that much cum. He flopped on the bed, still clutching his cock. I got up, my face and tits covered in his sticky cum, and made for the bathroom.

It took me quite a while to clean up. Finally, I looked presentable and returned to the bedroom, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Phil was lying back on the pillows, very drunk; I might as well get it over with; I asked if he enjoyed it.

He was like all guys after their first experience with a hot girl; he said, "I love you."

I had to be careful, I replied,

"That's sweet, Phil, and I have feelings for you too."

I could see his disappointment; I thought I had made a mistake, but it was too late now. I could see his dick was hard again, and I hoped this wouldn't get ugly. I carefully lay next to him. He took my hand and placed it on his hard cock; I tentatively squeezed it, and I could feel it throbbing. Mercifully, he passed out; I lay there, not moving for a few minutes, with his dick still in my hand. He was unconscious, but his dick wasn't. I kept stroking it; pre cum was starting to drip out. I couldn't believe he was ready again. I could have been a bitch and mounted him; that would be great; he would have been passed out the first time he fucked me. I rolled over and fell asleep, licking his pre cum from my hand, leaving him with a hard-on. Too bad for him.

I woke at seven. Phil had gone to his room sometime during the night. I put the robe on and went to get something to eat; I needed something besides cum, in my stomach. I had to go home today. I only hoped Jack would be out.

I dressed in the bathroom and tried to sneak out, putting my heels on outside. Then I realized my car was at the office.

Crestfallen, I returned to the house and asked Phil for a ride. He had just woken up, and, of course, he said yes.

I realized what I must have looked like sitting in the car with my knees together in the light of day. The sun was streaming through the window, highlighting the sheen of my stockings. I pulled the bottom of my skirt down as far as I could, but the stocking tops were still exposed. I thought, what did women do before pantyhose? The guys must have loved it.

I caught Phil looking out of the corner of his eyes at my legs. I shouldn't have done it, but I shifted in my seat, swinging my legs toward him, carefully pulling my skirt up until both my garter clasps were exposed, tugging the sheer off-black stockings high on my legs.

"You can look at my legs if you want, I don't mind; it's the least I can do for you. But I want to do something other than go to Jack's house. Let's take a ride first."

I knew Phil realized I was using him, but I didn't care. Just being able to look at me was enough for him. What other girl, as beautiful as I am, would pull her skirt up to her waist, giving him a leg show. There's no shortage of men that would gladly have switched places with him.

I finally relaxed, Phil drove to the local park, and I started considering his offer to move in with him.

It didn't take long to realize what a mistake that would be; he was in love with me, but I didn't have the same feelings for him. I hated myself for doing it, so I decided to use him; I deserved it. Guys were always using me.

We stayed at the park for a while. I enjoyed the quiet, and it was nice not having to fight some guy groping me as soon as the car stopped.

I was drifting off to sleep; I could feel Phil staring at me. My tight white blouse showed every detail of my overflowing bra, plus I looked like a porn star wearing black nylons and a garter belt with heels.

I could see Phil's hard-on and was considering doing something for him. Then I felt his hand on my knee; I faked sleeping to see what he would do. He lightly stroked my nylons, reaching the tops, only inches from my tender mound. I spread my legs apart for a few seconds, then squeezed my thighs together. He quickly withdrew his hand and looked away; it's a shame he should have gone for it; he would have been surprised by what I might have done. This was the problem with him; he was too nice.

It was getting late, and I had to go to Jack's house; I needed my clothes. Phil understood and drove me to my car. He told me I could stay at his house as long as necessary. I told him I would think about it as I pulled my skirt down over my stockings. I opened the car door to get out, I knew it was a mistake, but I kissed him lightly on the lips lingering maybe a little too long.

"Please call me," he said sadly.

I smiled at him and nodded.

I pulled up to Jack's house, but he didn't appear home. I shuddered, thinking how many times I could have been raped if this were the only place I could have gone; thank God for Phil.

I walked quickly, my tits bouncing almost out of my skimpy bra, wishing I had worn other shoes that didn't yell fuck me.

The front door was unlocked; that lazy bastard Jack probably was too drunk to lock it.

I quickly got a suitcase from the closet and started dumping the contents of my bureau. The rest of my stuff was on hangers, so I threw them in the back seat. I gathered my belongings and headed to my car. Just as I got to the door, I looked out as Jack drove up.

I started panicking; Jack exited his car and stared at mine and the house with an evil smirk. He then sauntered up the walk.

Having nowhere to go, I stood frozen in the living room, realizing how I looked and what a pervert Jack was.

"Well, well, my little whore has come home,"

I shuddered, thinking about what was going to happen next.

I didn't have long to think. Jack ripped my top from me in one motion, exposing my lacy bra.

"You're a real whore. I heard about your gangbang at work, so when I'm finished with you, we're done, for good, bitch."

He grabbed my ponytail and pulled me toward the bedroom. I almost fell on my face and was dragged, my skirt up to my waist. I struggled and cried all the way.

"I'm going to fuck your ass. Then I'll get my friends over to fuck you."

I started begging him to let me go, and in answer, he started smacking my exposed boobs; the pain was intoxicating, and it hurt like hell, while at the same time, my pussy was on fire. Finally, he let go of my hair and let me fall to the floor.

I laid there, my poor tits aching, wishing I had never come over; Jack pulled me to my knees by my hair. I screamed for him to stop. "Please let me go. You'll never see me again; you can have the house."

"It's time to start sucking, whore,"

I took his pathetic dick in my mouth, attacking it with my tongue. My hand dropped to my crotch, manipulating my throbbing clit while he held my head and started throat fucking me; he only lasted a couple of minutes, he was afraid he was going to cum.

He pulled his dick out and threw me on the bed. I knew what was coming; I was lying there with my ass in the air. Jack pulled my panties off and squirted some gel on my puckered ass, plunging his finger into my tender hole, sawing it in and out.

"Time for the real thing, you little cunt, or maybe I should say ass."

With that, he eased his dick into my poor butt. I was still sore from the other day. But I wouldn't let him know it was killing me.

I was grunting and moaning from the pain; I got my hand to my wet snatch and started to massage my swollen clit. I cried out a little and felt my orgasm wash over me.

Jack battered my ass for what seemed like an hour before cuming. The dumb bastard thought I liked it; he didn't realize I had made myself cum.

"I always knew you liked getting your ass reamed."

He said, feeling all proud of himself.

I could hear the shower running; I was still on the bed with my ass in the air; I slowly stood up, feeling his cum running out of my sore ass. I needed to shower, and I was hoping Jack's threat about his friends was just him fucking with my head.

I made something to eat. I wrapped a robe around me, got some clothes out of the car, and headed for the bathroom to shower.

The hot water soothed me; while washing my hair, I heard voices.

At first, I thought it might be the tv, but then I could hear Jack's voice, telling someone to be quiet. There was a sudden rush of cold air, had Jack opened the door?

"Jack, is that you?" I called out. The glass was steamed up, but I could hear low laughter and see shadows of more than one person. Suddenly Jack opened the shower door, and I could see Jack and two men I had never met.

I screamed, "Get out of here!"

Jack answered immediately.

"That's not going to happen. We came in to watch you wash those tits.

"I'm telling you guys; you won't believe it. Now get started bitch."

They all crowded around the open shower door staring at me; I had nowhere to go. I vainly tried to cover my pussy and my big boobs. They were solid thirty-two d's and hardly sagged. Thinking back, I would have needed both hands and luck to cover my nipples and a tiny part of my tits.

''Come on, Heather, we're waiting for you; get going, or we'll do it for you."

It was so embarrassing standing there naked before Jack and two strangers. Slowly I started soaping my tits, squeezing my boobs, my nipples rapidly stiffening. My tits were begging to be mauled. Without being obvious, I pinched my nipples as hard as I could, my pussy getting wetter all the time.

I was like a sex robot; Jack was standing there, giving me commands to perform for them.

"Watch this, Heather; pull your tits up and suck on them."

My face was burning with shame as I obeyed. I lifted both of my tits to my waiting mouth.

I started moaning as I sucked on my tender nipples, my skin warm from the shower. It felt so good that I would have to try this alone. I was getting into it, letting go of one of my boobs to get my fingers into my dripping cunt. I didn't care; I was masturbating in front of two people I didn't know.

I was well on my way to orgasm when somebody said.

"I'm tired of watching. I want to fuck Miss Heather."

That put me over the top as I bit down on my nipple and pressed my legs together, groaning as the warm feeling swept over me. My knees became weak, and I collapsed and ended up sitting on the floor of the shower.

Jack was laughing.

" Come on, guys, let's get a drink. Fix yourself up, Heather, and prepare for round two."

I dried off and pulled my hair into a ponytail. It was obvious what I was to wear. The French maid's outfit was on the bed, with my stockings and garter belt. I went heavy on the makeup, with black eye shadow and glossy pink lipstick adding a black lace choker and oversized hoop earrings. I clipped my off-black stockings to my garter clasps and looked at myself in the mirror. I wondered why I had to get dressed like this when all the guys had to do was pull their dicks out and order me to do anything so that they could get their rocks off. Not caring if they humiliate me in the process.

The maid's dress was tight, with a built-in bra that eliminated a regular one. The top provided little support to my swollen boobs. I drank a full glass of rum and coke to relieve my fear. I slipped into my heels and headed into the living room.

One of the guys whistled, "It was worth the wait; now turn around, Heather."

The drink started loosening me up. I slowly walked to the center of the room. My hands held the hem of my dress, so my stocking tops and garters were showing. I turned around twice, ensuring my boobs were displayed; I curtsied, bowing and saying.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Make something to eat, Heather, and then we have some cocks ready for you."

Jack couldn't resist cracking me on the ass as I walked by him.

I squealed and tried running in heels to the kitchen, my boobs bouncing.

I made some sandwiches; I considered putting something nasty in them but chickened out. I served them, bending from my waist, my boobs stealing the show. What a slut I've turned into.

Jack had me stand beside him as he ate, gently running his hand up my leg, feeling my nylons, and snapping my garter straps.

I knew my time was up; I would get fucked by strangers, and I looked forward to it.

Jack stood up, grabbed my arm, and forced me to my knees.

"Time to suck some cock, Heather," as they surrounded me.

"Please let me go." I whimpered. The truth was, if they had stopped, I would have paid them to fuck me. I hesitated a second, then slid a dick in my mouth, savoring the taste of pre cum and started stroking the other two with my hands.

My tits popped out of the sheer dress, and they started pinching my tender nipples. My pleasure outweighed the pain; I needed a dick in me. Jack ripped off my maid's outfit; my panties met the same fate. Stripped down to my garter belt, nylons, and heels. I looked like a whore. I had pre cum and spit all over my face; of course, somebody had their phone out recording the whole mess.

"Do you think Phil will recognize you, Princess?"

Jack said as he smeared my face with cum; I was wasted and didn't object, not that it would have mattered. I wondered why guys like to cum on a pretty girl's face.

I wasn't sure who had cum on me. My eyes were stuck shut. What was worrying me was what I heard, and that was the front door opening and closing as more guys streamed in. I kept hearing someone saying, "I'm next."

I had cum so often that my pussy was numb, while my ass was raw from the constant assault. My face was a sticky mess of countless cum shots that dripped on my tits.

Jack and his friends had treated me like a sex toy, moving me into different positions to satisfy their needs. I thought they were finished when Jack pushed me off the bed and down on my hands and knees with my ass in the air. Jack bent down beside me, pulled my head to the side, and showed me two good-sized carrots.

"Time for your veggies, Heather."

I started struggling, but firm hands kept me still. Jack coated them with cum from my face and started easing one into my dripping cunt.

"How does that feel? Do you want it deeper?"

"Please stop it; you're hurting me; it's too big. I moaned. as I tried moving to ease the pain.