Katie and Paul Pt. 05

Continued from Katie and Paul Part 4...

I awoke. My head felt really fuzzy and heavy. I struggled to open my eyes. I could sense sunlight coming through the window.

I was lying facing the edge of the bed, so peered towards my bedside table to see what time it was showing on my alarm clock. I couldn't make out the recognisable red lights from the numbers. My head hurt, a lot.

I finally half-opened my eyes, my alarm clock wasn't there. I reached out a hand to try to find my watch. I normally put it on the bedside table when I get into bed, that also wasn't there. My head hurt. I had a recollection of drinking last night. A lot of drinking actually. Everything else seemed a blur.

I noticed the wall. My bedroom wall wasn't in that colour. What room had I slept in? I was lying on a bed, so I wasn't at my home. Mild panic came over me, who's bed was I in?

Someone behind me, spooning me, stirred a little. A hand was resting right on my hip, at the very top of my thigh. Hard nipples were digging into my shoulder. Oh god, what had I done? I lifted the duvet as slowly as possible and looked down. I was naked, I didn't even have knickers on. The hand was very feminine looking though, smallish in size but perfect pale skin and very well-manicured fingernails, and nail polish in a deep crimson colour. Those nails seemed so familiar, but my brain wouldn't go into gear. How many drinks had I had last night?

"Morning sleepyhead," I heard a female voice say, "I wasn't sure if you were awake yet so was trying to keep still."

I knew I recognised the voice, but my brain still wouldn't let me think clearly. I rolled over, and let out a sigh of relief. It was Claire, a longtime friend.

"Thank god it's you!" I exclaimed.

"Who did you think it was going to be, dirty girl?" she said with a big grin on her face.

"Paul actually," I answered. "I'm not that kind of girl."

"Well the way you were dancing around that stripper pole in the club last night like a professional I'd have to query that," she giggled.

Stripper pole. Club. Memories were starting to come back to me a little. We'd been out on a hen party and had been on a pub crawl. Ten girls in all, the girl getting married was someone Claire and I knew from school, she'd been in our school year. I couldn't remember everything yet but did now remember mixing my drinks. Lots of drinks.

I remember the club was in a seedier part of town. It was well known for having 'men's nights' and some of the rumours of what went on in there were legendary. Claire reminded me that we'd entered to a huge chorus of wolf whistles and shouts of the strippers arriving. The bride to be had got up and started dirty dancing with one of the guys in there, and I'd tried to outdo her by whisking off my skirt and top, and performing a very sexy dance on the pole, even turning upside down at one point and clinging onto the pole just by gripping with my thighs, and pushing my tits together at my baying audience.

"It was so sexy you turned me on too," said Claire, "But don't worry, we didn't get up to anything. I could barely undress myself let alone you."

I looked down the bed and realised that Claire was also fully naked. I was in awe of her body. I've been told that I look pretty damn good, but being only five foot four inches tall has its drawbacks. Claire was perfection.

I'd known Claire back to starting school, we started nursery school on the same day. We'd marvelled at her birthday being the day before mine, I'd always said her being one day older was why she was much taller.

Claire was a five-foot eleven-inch redhead. She has stunning pale skin, with no imperfections at all, apart from a few scatterings of very pale, almost non-noticeable, freckles across her face. She looked like a painting. Her hair was long and naturally wavy. She'd had a lot of stigma throughout school about her hair colouring. The usual 'ginger' comments and similar, I'd even overheard a group of boys mocking her freckles, calling her a human dot to dot. Claire never took any notice, if anything it made her a stronger person. We were very close throughout school, I think I really endeared to her strength. By the time we left school, all the girls wanted to be her, and all the boys fancied her. A few of the girls fancied her too, me included.

She now modelled part-time, it's how she's met her boyfriend Pete. Pete was good looking, the same age as us, but not my type. He was five feet eight inches tall, very muscly, and had a boyband haircut, all floppy fringe, and tossled. It almost always looked like he'd just got out of bed. We'd sometimes joked about having the wrong boyfriends as Paul is six feet tall. Pete did a lot of television work for adverts and such, so was away on photoshoots a lot. He was very attentive to Claire and always brought her back extravagant gifts from his travels. However much of his time when he was back home was spent either in the gym or in tanning salons.

Claire had told me early on in their relationship that they liked to perform oral on each other in risky public places. Dressing rooms, pub toilets, shopping centre car parks, that kind of thing. They'd nearly been caught a few times and she said that was more of a turn-on than the oral sex itself. However now Pete's face was becoming more publicly known, they'd had to cut down. They only needed one person to take a photo and leak it, and Pete's modelling career may well have been ended.

We'd gone downstairs and were sat either side of her breakfast bar, drinking coffee, after both taking paracetamols. Claire suddenly stood up and said "Oooh I've just remembered, I've something I need to show you. These will freak you out!"

She left the room and ran upstairs, and left me bewildered staring into my mug. She returned shortly after with a very excited grin on her face, and a laptop. She placed the laptop on the breakfast bar, turned it on, and started typing. She looked up at me staring at her, looked back at the screen, and smiled. She turned the laptop so the screen was facing my way.

I took the laptop and slid it closer to me. Six pictures were on screen, all of a naked girl. The girl was a brunette and small in size. In each picture, a black square was covering her face, apart from the last one. The final picture was an arse shot, hands pulling open her arse cheeks, and she was come splattered. A necklace of sperm hung down between her legs. I instantly recognised the pictures, although I'd never seen them before. It was from my pizza delivery. The profile was imaginatively called Pizza Girl.

"That's not me, don't be silly," I stammered, trying to act innocent.

"Both me and Pete thought it was," she replied. "Pete even admitted he'd wanked and come over them, imagining it was you. I told him he was very naughty and you'd be disgusted in his behaviour, but didn't tell him I had too."

There was a momentary pause. Seeing the pictures again set off a tingling in my pussy, as I remembered that night.

"Are you sure it's not you?" she asked again, "Or did Paul not take the photos which is why you're being coy?"

She turned the laptop around again. She looked at the pictures again, gasped, and walked around the breakfast bar so she was by my side. Before I had a chance to say anything she grabbed my top with both hands and yanked it up. She poked a finger between my shoulder blades.

"I knew it, It is you! you have the same birthmark!" she exclaimed.

I knew I couldn't argue. The birthmark was a giveaway. It was two small marks together, but they merged and it looked like a little butterfly, directly central to my shoulder blades. My face told the story.

"Oh my god, we were right. But why deny it?" she asked. A look came over her face, and she continued "Oh, Paul really didn't take the photos did he?"

"No, he didn't. But he was upstairs recording everything."

I had to come clean now. I told her all about the delivery, the hidden camera set up, and Paul watching upstairs. I told how I'd got that carried away I'd given a blowjob to a stranger while my boyfriend watched. I told her how I'd stuck a dildo in my pussy and masturbated while he wanked over me. I told her how after he'd left not only had Paul not minded, although it wasn't long we'd had the best, most frantic sex, we'd ever had.

Claire's mouth was gaped open in shock. "I'm amazed at you," she said, "Suddenly last night's stripper pole dancing seems very timid."

"How did you come across the pictures, no pun intended," I asked.

She turned the laptop back to herself, clicked a few times, and pushed it back towards me. Different pictures were on screen now, a tall redhead with very wavy hair. In one she was sitting on a cock that was buried deep in her shaven pussy, facing forwards, a pair of very muscly legs in between hers as she'd straddled him. A black square covered her face, but I knew it was her. I shook my head at her.

"I'm hoping that's Pete as you've just told me off about the driver?" I asked.

She nodded. She then started to tell me how they'd found the website. Pete had overheard one of his model friends talking about it. You created a profile, sent six pictures at a time, and with the first batch told them which you wanted as a profile picture. You could block out the faces yourself before submitting, or just send them in and they'd put black squares on to cover up people's identities. All pictures on the site were anonymous. You could use your real names or fake names, but all profiles were vetted to keep personal details to the bare minimum. You weren't even allowed to say which town you were from, just the area. Claire's profile simply said Midlands. The profile was named as Paul and Katie. Claire said they didn't want to use their own names, but chose names they'd remember.

The idea was to post pictures and for other profiles to leave messages and comments. Some were complimentary, most were asking if the people in the pictures were from a certain area. It was up to the profile if they answered publicly or not. Claire explained it was perfect for them as Pete would have his face hidden so as to protect himself.

"What kind of comments did you get then?!" I enquired.

"A few troll ones, but we ignored them. A lot of women wanted to fuck Pete, a few wanted to fuck me too. A lot of men wanted to fuck me, a few wanted to fuck Pete too. Some were actually interested in both of us, either for threesomes or swapping."

"Did anything come of it?" I asked.

"Well, seeing as we're playing confessions time, yes."

She scrolled down the page and clicked on one of the comments. It mentioned a local area we knew, it was about fifteen minutes drive away. There is a hilly area where a lot of people go to walk their dogs or go cross country running. There is a car park towards the top, with the only building by it. The building is a public toilet, with a difference. There aren't separate men and women, the building just contains five cubicles as you go through the entrance.

"I think I know that place, it's really weird walking in there, with men walking out who haven't yet zipped up properly," I recalled. "Paul and I had parked up there a few times when we'd gone running together. The first time I'd needed to wee before getting back in the car was a surreal experience."

Claire continued by telling me that this guy had said that the second cubicle from the left now had a Gloryhole on either side, meaning anyone in the cubicle on either side could push their cocks through, but the holes weren't wide enough to look up and see who was in the next cubicle. He'd asked if we'd be up for going there on the following Saturday.

Pete reluctantly agreed, knowing that the fun was going to be all mine, but I promised him lots of blowjobs in between, and he would get to fuck me whereas nobody else would. We had an understanding that neither of us would fuck anyone else. Pete warmed to the idea and said he'd take an old camcorder too.

We told the guy we'd be there, and he told us about 7 pm was normally a little quieter for joggers and dog walkers. We got there a little early and parked up away from the building. Pete had to make sure nobody saw us go in, so he went over and made sure the cubicle was unoccupied, then beckoned me over. I rushed in and Pete locked the door. I was fairly warm, but also didn't want to go home in sperm-soaked clothes, so stripped off my clothes, including my underwear. I was wearing trainers, and for some reason, I'd decided to wear stockings.

We waited for a little while until a cock was pushed through one of the holes. I looked at Pete to make sure he was still ok, and he was already pointing the camcorder at us. I crouched down and took the cock into my mouth, the guy didn't last long before coating my throat. Forty-five minutes and five cocks later, Pete had fucked me and made me come four times. I was splattered in semen, and we were deciding whether to call it a night.

Suddenly a massive cock poked me on my side. It was as black as my skin is pale, and it had massive veins on it too. The guy was about twelve or thirteen inches long. My pussy squelched just looking at it. I tried to grab it, but could barely get my fingers wrapped around it, I sank onto my knees on the semen covered floor, and tried to take him in my mouth. I stretched as wide as possible, but couldn't get past the head. I started wanking him as best as I could, looked up at Pete, and whispered "Can I fuck it?"

Pete looked at me disappointed, but then looked at the impressive cock in front of him. He smiled, nodded, and whispered back "You'd hate me forever if I told you no. You can't miss a chance to get that inside you."

"I've got big dildos, but none are anything close to that size. I wasn't even sure if I could fit in me." She explained.

Claire had stood up, turned her arse towards the cock, and backed up. She'd been wet enough already for the head to slip in easy, but it hurt her to take any more. He must have realised and kept still, Claire backing on and taking more and more each time. Pete was impressed that she was taking nearly all of that massive length inside her, and encouraged her while filming. The owner of the cock knew she was comfortable now and started moving with her. Claire eventually came again, flooding his cock with her juices. Pete had to stop filming and hold her steady, and the cock pulled out and came all over her back. She turned around just to see the cock disappearing.

They waited a few minutes, got dressed, and making sure the coast was clear, went home.

I couldn't believe her. I didn't think Paul would let me fuck anyone else, twelve inches or not.

"Well, if we're really confessing," I told her. I continued by telling her about Paul's friends, the train journey with the old man, Sarah from the shoe shop, Geoff and his massive cock and my dildo show, and finally about the fancy dress party.

"So you've fucked someone else too, and you're judging me?" Claire replied.

"Well technically yes, I suppose, but seeing as I thought it had been Paul it doesn't count. And hopefully, Paul never finds out."

Claire laughed and then frowned. "I thought you fancied me, and yet you fucked another woman behind my back?" she smiled as she finished saying it.

"I thought me and you were way past having sex," I told her, "and you've been wanking over my pictures anyway."

"You need to read the comments on your pictures," she told me. "I doubt very much I'm the only woman who has. A lot of men have too judging by the comments."

She turned the laptop back towards me and came around to my side of the breakfast bar. I scrolled through the comments, some of the suggestions almost made me blush. The more suggestive ones Claire read out loud, giggling as she did so.

One comment, in particular, caught my eye. It wasn't a suggestion as such, but a woman had just come back from a holiday abroad and said when she'd seen my pictures she'd done a double-take, as there had been a nudist beach there, she'd been there with her husband a couple of times, and the pictures looked like a woman that had been there on her own both times. She knew because her hubby couldn't take his eyes off her while his wife gave him a handjob. I felt my pussy become very wet, we needed to book a holiday away. I wouldn't tell Paul why though, it would be a surprise for when we got over there.

Not long later Paul arrived to pick me up, thanked Claire for looking after me, and we left. As we went out of the door Claire said "No problem, she's been good as gold," and winked at me, while pretending to zip her mouth shut.