Kim Pt. 02byBritease©
An interesting and varied reaction to my recent story 'Kim', which many thought needed a sequel. I did invite anyone who fancied having a bash to give it a go, but meanwhile, here's my version.
I do wonder if you'll like it?
Much, much better if you read the original 'Kim' first, if only to get you suitably infuriated.
My name's Chris, Chris Mayhew. You may have read about me a short while ago on that stupid, fucking web site, Literotica. That bastard, so called bloody author who calls himself Britease wrote this stupid damn story about what me and a few of my mates got up to one night. It was rubbish and a bunch of lies, and you lot out there don't want to be believing a bloody word of it.
I'm here to put the situation straight. To tell you what really happened, and how the whole thing was all that stupid cow Kim's fault. If she'd been straight with us and told us the truth from the start, then none of that stuff would have happened, and we wouldn't all be in the damn mess we are now.
Not complaining mind you. I'm writing this sat here in a comfortable chair, looking out onto the view without a care in the world. Don't have to work any more, and got someone who does my cleaning and cooking, and another young girl who does my washing and ironing.
Sounds good eh?
You bet it is.
It was a Friday as I remember it, and Ben and John had been out somewhere in town having dinner, when they spotted this couple on another table. He was just so so, but from what they told me, the girl was a little beauty. Long blonde hair, nice tight body and legs to die for, they told me, but didn't have time to say a lot more, as the couple finished eating and were getting up ready to leave.
Depended on whether they were going straight home or going on somewhere else, in which case the four of us would hopefully be having a bit of fun. Done it before and got away with it, so why not tonight?
Mike hovered around down the road from the restaurant, while I took the other side, hoping not to miss the couple when they emerged, and hoping they didn't have a car conveniently parked too close nearby.
The girl, what was she, maybe early twenties? Well there was no missing her as she walked out on the arm of her guy, or husband as he turned out to be. Slim, a mass of blonde hair, lots of exposed skin and shapely bare legs that seemed to go on forever and a skirt that seemed to be designed to expose them, Now I've always been a leg men and I've seen and explored quite a few in my time, but them legs .... well ..... I felt my pulse rising.
Nothing really. Average height, average looking, a bit stocky maybe but nothing special. If ever there was a man with a girl who was out of his class, then that was Mark, as we discovered his name was.
Looking back, I suppose that's where I made my first mistake. Why would a girl who looked like her be with a guy like him?
It never occurred to me, or the other three as far as I know, and that bitch, that Kim, she never told us. The cow never said a word.
Anyway, you want my version of what happened, the true version. They turned my way and after letting them pass me I slipped in behind them, grinning away about the fun we were going to have. They stopped outside the Starlight Club, and I put my hands together and prayed to whoever that they'd go right in.
Thank you God, because in they went, and a short time later I slipped in and sat down at the table they'd been sat at, as the pair of them got up to try their hand at dancing.
The girl, Kim as we now know her, moved like a professional dancer and had obviously done more than just have a few lessons.
Him? Less said the better, pathetic fool. I'd soon show her what it was like to dance with a real man.
They came back and I went through the act of apologising and offering to move off, but flashing my best smile at them, but especially her. No problem and moments after, we were deep in conversation, me making sure that dipshit wasn't being left out.
I spotted my three mates standing there ready to move in and I warned them to hang back till I made up some reason why they should join us, and the couple fell for it, hook line and sinker. A slow dance with her, a bit of bodily contact and I knew I'd sparked a bit of interest, and then it was time for Ben, Mike and John to join us, something that Kim seemed to welcome and Mark, the stupid sod didn't object to.
Now I should tell you about John.
A degree in chemistry and what did he do with it? Get a job? Start a company? No, my mate John went sort of underground, realising that a guy with a specialised knowledge of chemistry in these days of manufactured street drugs could make himself an easy living and pull a whole shed load of girls. That's why Ben occupied Mark and Mike and I Kim, while John took responsibility for slipping a little something into each of their drinks. Something to open her up, and something to quieten him down. She'd be more receptive to our suggestions and loosen her up, while Mark, poor sod, would have a job figuring out what was going on around him.
I think Mark was as surprised to find himself up in room 345, as we were at how easy we got them there.
The pair of them were typical, her excited, eyes flashing and boobs bouncing around, while he wandered around unaware of how unsteady he was on his legs and that us four were laughing at how pathetic he was.
Then again, we didn't know did we, and that bitch never mentioned it.
The rest of the evening went more or less as that fucking idiot Britease wrote in that story of his. We put some music on and one by one danced with her, slowly persuading her out of her clothes, while that silly sod Mark sat there with a drug induced smug smile on his face. There was a bit of a hitch but we got over that, and were back to getting her naked, enjoying ourselves groping her luscious body, while she groaned, and hubby looked on bemused, unable to fully understand what was happening.
Then we fucked her, all four of us, time and time again. There was a point where Mark's pathetic half objections came to a head, but as he tried to grab her from us, Kim swung her arm around and Mike tapped hubby on the chin and he went sprawling, thinking it was her that had done it. We giggled so much that we nearly lost train of what we were doing.
But we didn't.
We fucked that beauty little upwards and downwards, throwing her lithe little naked body back and forward between us as if she was a doll. She seemed to be enjoying it but who cared anyway, as us four were. We enjoyed it till Kim clearly couldn't take anymore, or at least not for a while.
Maybe that's where we made our second mistake, or perhaps it was the tenth or so?
Previously we would have sent the bitch of the evening off home with her husband or boyfriend, her with a confused smile on her face and him with his tail between his legs and that would have been the end of the matter.
But not that night, oh no!
Kim was a delight to look at, a dream to feel and an out of this world experience to fuck, so I took the lead and decided that we'd keep her a little longer. Well, I had the whole night in mind, and probably part of the next day as well.
So what does an English guy like me do in circumstances like that? Well, I made a pot of tea, of course.
"Tea Mark?" I offered him.
"No thanks." He replied, blinking to try to clear his fuddled brain.
"How are you feeling?" I asked him calmly, offering my hand to help him back to his feet.
"Not sure," the poor bugger replied, sweating and breathing heavily. "Not so good."
"Maybe you had better be getting off home then Mark," I suggested, signalling to my cronies to stop giggling.
"What about Kim? I don't think she's ...."
"We'll look after her Mark," I interrupted his muddled ranting. "I don't think her evening is over. My friends and I are not finished playing with her yet."
"She's exhausted," he protested, albeit pretty meekly.
"She'll recover pretty soon Mark," I assured him, trying not to laugh. "Better you leave before she comes back round properly. I doubt if she'll be in the mood to talk to you. Too embarrassed."
"You think so?"
"I know so," I smiled benevolently at him. "We'll see she gets home safely."
"You'll look after her, won't you?"
"It's a promise," I chuckled, unable to believe he was accepting it all, despite the chemical shit we'd fed him earlier, taking his arm and guiding him to the door. "Now you get off home and mind how you drive."
"OK," he agreed, as I eased him out of the door into the corridor. "Look after her. She's very special to me."
The door clicked shut behind him.
The stupid sod was gone and even as I looked round, Kim, the gorgeous little beauty, was starting to respond to the way the others were squeezing and pinching those lovely full breasts of hers ..... and the rest is history.
I still blame her.
The silly cow never even told us what her surname was, though even then we may have not put two and two together.
If her stunning looks hadn't blurred our thinking, then we maybe should have thought a bit more about why a pretty ordinary looking bloke like him would have a stunning wife that looked like Kim, but of course we didn't.
But I still blame her.
We sent her packing late the following morning, us grinning and her crying her eyes out, unable to understand quite what had happened.
Us four made our way home, promising to meet up that evening to see if we could find ourselves another couple to play our games with.
I turned up, as did Mike and John, but Ben went missing and we never saw sight nor sign of him again.
We were having a pretty lean night, not fully understanding why everyone seemed to be avoiding us, when I decided to call it a night and left. It was in the car park that I discovered why people had been avoiding us, and a clue as to why Ben hadn't turned up.
"Hello Chris," a voice behind me caught me by surprise, and turning round I was surprised to see that silly bugger Mark stepping out from the gloom, the glint in his eye making it clear that he wasn't looking for a friendly conversation.
"Hi Mark," I answered back, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up on end for some unknown reason.
"Mr. Richardson to you sonny," growled a voice from behind him, and my insides turned to lead. The size of the tough minder behind him was enough to put the fear up anyone, but that paled into insignificance as it dawned on me that this really ordinary guy was in fact Mark Richardson. Not just him, but who his dad was, who his uncles were, and literally shitting myself in fear as it dawned on me that this was Lenny Richardson's younger brother.
"We let her go Mark," I pleaded, tears already forming at the fear of the pain that I knew awaited me.
"Couldn't give a fuck," Mark grunted as he punched me hard, straight in the face.
"Look I'm sure ..." was as far as I got, before I doubled over in pain as he hit me twice, hard and fast in the stomach.
"Sorry about this Mark," he chuckled as he kicked me. "Family honour you understand. Can't let you get away with it. Don't want to anyway."
I don't think he was sorry at all.
I don't remember much of the next ten minutes, only that I never even dared throw a punch, and simply curled up in a ball, praying for the pain to end. Then being pulled to my feet by my hair and dragged out towards the road, tripping over my own feet as I went.
I thought maybe he pushed me, I really did, but the court later heard from four witnesses that I jumped into the road in front of the van, and they believed them despite that they all seemed to be friends of his. I vaguely have a memory before I passed out, of the driver telling Mark not to worry about the damage to the van, and that he ought to get it back before his boss missed it, but I could be wrong of course.
So here I am now, sat in this comfortable chair, or at least I think that's the case. Not a lot of feeling below my waist these days, so I'm not too sure really, but at least it's not too painful to push the big wheel on the side. Trouble is, one arm doesn't work properly, so without help, I keep going round and round in circles.
Views are good though, if you like brick walls, if you can see that far with one eye that doesn't work well and the other that still needs an operation.
Be midday soon and my lunch will be arriving, as long as they don't forget me like they did yesterday.
Ben gone who knows where, but don't expect to see him again, and John discovered dead full of his own cocktail of chemicals and a suicide note written in someone else's handwriting. Mike poor bastard; well I'd rather not talk about his current situation or how long he can last out, so I guess I really can count myself as lucky.
Back on the game so I've heard, back to the life that was beckoning her when Mark first fell for her and took her away from that life. I'm told she tries to pluck up the courage to talk to him about that night. Maybe to try to get him to forgive her, but whenever she manages to get near him, the look she gets from him stops her in her tracks. Still, I understand that he lets her keep a fair percentage of what she earns from her clients, no less than the other girls that work for the Richardsons, so there must still be some hint of affection hanging around. Maybe she'll get her wish one day?
I still blame her though. If she'd only told us who he was. Her and that bastard Britease of course. If he hadn't written that god dam awful story, and that 'orrible 'arry hadn't encouraged him, then I could have least kept my suffering to myself.
Leave that to you lot.