Making of a Slut Ch. 01

For some reason Fran was feeling remarkably horny as she sat alone on the wooden bench enjoying the afternoon sunshine. She always enjoyed coming out on to the pier during the summer months, finding it gave her a sense of freedom; a stark contrast to her days cooped up inside the stuffy confines of a classroom trying to teach a bunch of adolescent thugs, who had no desire to be educated the lessons in life. Now that the holidays had arrived they could all go to hell as far as she was concerned. This was now her time and she intended to take every opportunity she could afford, to just sit and relax in the sun. Breathing deeply she leaned back against the wooden slats; her face turned towards the sun savouring the clean salty air that bounced off the waves, as they gently cascaded against the side of the pier. A group of sea gulls flew noisily overhead in circles, their shrill cries echoing through the air as they searched for handouts from the skippers of the small armada of fishing boats that were anchored against the sides of the harbour wall.

Whether or not it was the sight of the handsome fisherman whom was busily toiling a few feet away from her that had suddenly set off her arousal she wasn't sure. All that she knew for certain was...that she was feeling horny. She squirmed in her seat trying to relieve the pressure that she was feeling in her crotch. Somehow the seam of her tight Levi's, had worked it's self tightly between her legs, the soft Denham material pushing hard against her swollen labia, separating the delicate lips until they were clearly defined against the fabric. She felt her face flush with embarrassment as she glanced down and saw the obvious 'Camel Toe' staring back at her, and wondered if the fisherman who was busily unloading lobster pots in front of her had noticed it too.

Every couple of minutes or so the man, whom Fran judged to be in his early forties or maybe late thirties, would disappear from view as he descended the steel ladder which hung from the wall of the pier, only to return moments later clutching yet another basket, which he would carefully stack onto a wooden barrow. Fran smiled inwardly to herself as she watched him bend in order to stack his precious catch, his tight buttocks almost within touching range. She resisted the urge to just simply reach out with her hand and touch him: the thought causing her to giggle as she wondered what his response might be.

This she now realised was probably the main reason for her arousal. It had been a long time since she had been with a man and her daydreaming wasn't helping matters: Besides of which the rubbing sensation that she was so much enjoying between her outstretched legs, had now developed into an almost uncontrollable urge to go and relieve herself. Waiting until the fisherman had disappeared from view once again, she got up and headed for her apartment, which was adjacent to the pier entrance and only a short walk.

It was whilst sitting on the toilet, the thoughts of the fisherman in his tight trousers racing through her head, that Fran first had her inspiration; it was an idea that would later change her life forever. Had she known at the time...had even an inkling of the implications of what she was about to embark on... then maybe she would never have considered it.

Pulling the flush she clumsily kicked off her tight jeans together with her now sodden underwear and walked into the bedroom. There she removed the rest of her clothing and then unlocked the door of a huge ornate wardrobe that dominated the tiny bedroom. She had known when she first saw it in the antique shop window that it would be far too big for her apartment, but she had fallen in love with the piece and knew she had to have it. It was as though the richness of the wood with its intricate carvings was somehow calling out to her.

Pulling the door open wide she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror that was affixed to its rear.

. "Not bad," she mused, admiring the reflection that stared back at her.

She reached up clutching at her breasts feeling their firmness... gently kneading each one until her small pink nipples stood proudly erect. Letting them go she opened her legs slightly and brushed her hands softly along her shaven pussy, feeling the smoothness of its soft skin. Satisfied she reached into the closet and removed a Lilac summer dress that she had purchased some weeks previous. The little dress was elegantly designed and would suit her need admirably.

Slipping it on over her head she once again returned her gaze towards the mirror. The chiffon material being so light that she had to reassure herself that she was actually wearing anything at all.

Four small white buttons adorned the front of the bodice from neckline to waistband, each designed with a small flower embossed in its centre. Fran carefully fastened the tiny buttons and then with a mischievous smile on her lips, opened up the top two again. For what she had in mind modesty was not on the cards for that particular afternoon. The skirt of the dress flared out from the thin waistband, finishing about an inch below her pubic bone. Turning around she glanced over her shoulder in order to re-affirm its shortness.

"Mmm...bending will be out of the question," she mused, noting how the hemline finished just short of buttock cheeks." But then again...we'll see."

Satisfied that the tiny dress would meet her requirements, she felt a tingle of wicked excitement as she opened up the drawer of her dresser and carefully removed a tiny white 'g' string. Stepping into it she let out a soft moan as the thin elastic, which she pulled up tightly between the lips of her pussy brushed against her sensitive clitoris. Completing the outfit Fran then donned a pair of white stiletto heeled shoes. Fran liked these shoes; they had always been one of her favourites. The length of the heels extended her long slim legs as well as accentuating the muscles of her calves, making the dress appear even shorter.

As she paced the small room she smiled provocatively, her eyes never leaving the reflection in the mirror as she watched herself with an almost narcissist pleasure. Pleased with the result she stopped and slowly raised her arms above her head, watching as the hem of her dress climbed higher and higher until the small white triangle of her 'g' string poked into view. Her heart racing, she glanced around the small apartment as though looking to see if anyone was watching and then slowly reached under the hem of her dress and hurriedly removed it again. Now totally naked beneath the flimsy material she sucked in a huge breath and hurriedly stepped out of the apartment before she changed her mind.

Her heart was in her mouth as she stepped out onto the pavement and began her walk back to the pier. At one point she was ready to turn back and just forget the whole thing, when a huge dog suddenly came bounding up to her. Without warning it unexpectedly jumped up onto its hind legs and rested its massive paws upon her shoulders, nearly knocking her off her feet. As she stood there too terrified to move, a man came running over apologising profusely and clipped it onto its lead.

"I'm so sorry about that," he apologised, scolding the dog. "He's only a pup."

"It's okay," replied Fran as she bent over and patted the dog, "I used to own one myself. They can be a bit unpredictable when they're young."

The dog pleased with all the sudden attention licked at her hand and then started poking its nose inquisitively under her dress, lifting the hem over its head. Fortunately due to her slight stoop as she leant over to pat the dog, the front of her dress was slightly longer than if she had been standing upright, so her nudity hadn't been revealed. The man whose eyes were riveted to her exposed cleverage was oblivious to the fact that there was a much better view going on down below. Fran's heart nearly stopped as the man bent down, his face only inches from her crotch and scolded the dog once again before muttering his apologies as he dragged the dog away.

She watched them walk away uncertain as to whether or not he had seen anything. It gave her a strange buzz to think that maybe he had and was perhaps much too shy to remark on it. She giggled quietly to herself as she continued her walk towards the pier thinking over the incident 'a classic case of eyes in the wrong place...at just the right time.'

The walk along the pier took only a few minutes and was uneventful. A group of people in felt cowboy hats with the words 'Kiss Me Quick' emblazoned around the hatbands smiled and bid a cheery hello as they sauntered past. 'Probably holidaymakers' she thought. By the way they had looked at her over their shoulders upon passing, Fran felt certain that they could tell she was completely naked beneath the flimsy dress. She suddenly felt very self-conscious thinking that perhaps this wasn't such a good idea, but the thrilling sensation of being so daring...so sluttish and naughty only acted to strengthen her resolve.

By the time she had reached the bench where she was sitting earlier, her heart was beating ten to the dozen. She quickly sat down adjusting her breathing in order to regain her composure, whilst at the same time swiftly glancing around for signs of the fisherman. His baskets were still stacked neatly on the barrow at the edge of the pier, but there was no sign of the man himself.

Suddenly she heard a scraping noise and then the man's head appeared as he climbed onto the pier. He looked across at Fran and cocked a cheeky smile of recognition. She felt a tingle run through her body as she retuned his smile, the hot wooden slats of the bench pressing hard against her naked buttocks a gentle reminder of why she had come. She watched as he stacked the basket he was carrying along with the rest and then retreated down the ladder out of sight once again.

Unfolding the crumpled magazine that she had brought along with her, she hurriedly glanced around in order to ensure that she wasn't being watched and then carefully hitched up her hemline, until it cut across her pubic bone. Tightly crossing her long shapely legs, she pretended to read the magazine whilst waiting patiently for the fisherman to return. Hearing the scraping of the ladder once again, she felt the butterflies in her stomach starting to dance wildly with excitement.

As the fisherman popped his head over the edge of the pier, he looked across at Fran noting how her dress appeared to have crept higher up her long shapely legs. He wasn't absolutely certain from his vantage point but he was sure that he could see she wasn't wearing panties: She was holding the magazine too close to her lap making it difficult for him to judge.

It was as if she could read his thoughts, for as he approached closer she slowly uncrossed her legs whilst parting her knees slightly: A delicious thrill running through her body as she pretended to read the magazine whilst watching the look on his face from behind her sunglasses. Already she could feel her arousal as the wetness between her legs flowed in its intensity, knowing that from his vantage point he would have a clear and uninterrupted view up her skirt.

If the man had noticed, then he gave no indication. He just stacked his basket along with the others and returned to his boat without a second glance. Fran's mind was in a state of turmoil: Relieved on the one hand that perhaps he hadn't noticed, and yet again thrilled at the prospect that perhaps he had. Throwing caution to the wind she quickly glanced around nervously before ruffling her dress a bit higher, pulling up the hem until it was level with her naval and then raising her knees until her feet rested on the edge of the wooden bench. Placing them widely apart, she picked up the magazine and brazenly waited for his return.

"If he doesn't notice now!" she thought, "then he must be blind."

She sat like this for several minutes waiting patently, her heart pounding in her chest as her anticipation to see the reaction on his face mounted: The juices from between her exposed cunt lips seeping out as her state of arousal increased in its intensity.

Unbeknown to Fran, on the deck of his cutter just a few feet below, the fisherman was sitting down across a small wooden crate and idly smoking a cigarette. He drew in a lungful of the bittersweet smoke, silently smiling to himself as he waited. He glanced down at his groin and saw the thick bulge pressing itself hard against the front of his trousers.

"What a fucking little Prick Tease," he mused, his mind racing as he thought of Fran sitting a few feet above him. "Sitting there...all innocent with a 'butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' attitude, and naked as a the day she was born under that little dress."

He waited for several more minutes quietly smoking his cigarette, and then made his way into the boat's small wheelhouse where he pressed the switch on a video camera that was mounted behind the wheel. Looking through the viewfinder he carefully positioned the camera so as it would overlook the deck.

"Won't be long now," he smirked, "and then we'll see who's the prick tease."

Fran bit down on her bottom lip as her impatience mounted. She had been sitting there virtually naked from the waist down and as yet her intended audience had not returned. For a minute she remained seated undecided about what to do next. Putting down the magazine, she smoothed down the front of her skirt and slowly stood up before cautiously walking towards the edge of the pier and peering over the side.

The fisherman glanced upwards as she approached the edge. From his vantage point he could see now for certain that she wasn't wearing any panties under the short summer dress. His eyes riveted themselves to her crotch, his thick cock throbbing in his tight jeans. He could tell that she was excited and just as aroused as he was by her exhibitionism. Her pussy lips were puffed up and swollen, oozing small droplets of white sticky residue.

He knew from his first glance that he had to have her, just take her and give her the fucking of her life...he also guessed that that was what she also wanted.

Fran looked down at him sitting on the box staring up at her with a cheeky grin spread across his face. A delicious thrill of excitement running through her as she saw the salacious look he was giving her as he stared up her dress. She threw caution to the wind and parted her legs a little, enabling him to have a real good look at what she was offering.

"Hi," she spoke at last, "is it ok to come aboard?"

She smiled when she saw the man nod his approval before positioning himself at the foot of the ladder to assist her down. She slowly stepped over the edge, her hands tightly gripping the metal rungs and slowly descended. She could feel the juices between her legs flowing more freely as her excitement at the prospect of what she was going to let him do to her mounted. It had been a long time since she had been with a man and the prospect of allowing this complete stranger to fuck her filled her with degenerate anticipation.

Her arms extended as she slowly made her way down the ladder causing the tiny dress to ride up higher over her naked buttocks. Another thrill of excitement shot through her body at the realization of how much of herself she was exposing to this stranger. As her foot touched the boat's deck, she felt his strong arms encircle her waist gripping her tightly. Gently lowering her down onto the deck, she felt his hands automatically slide along her body until his hands gently cupped themselves around her breasts.

She shuddered as she felt his hot breath tickle the nape of her neck, his strong hands beneath her dress kneading at her breasts. Fran let out a soft moan as she arched her back, pushing her naked buttocks hard against the prominent bulge that pressed against her naked flesh. His fingers meticulous in their administrations, tweaked each of her nipples in turn, causing them to stand stiffly to attention like soldiers on parade, whilst all the time his breath...that hot animal breath causing the small hairs on her body to prickle with sexual awareness, hot against the back of her neck.

Reaching behind her back, she lowered her hands searching for the hard bulge that pressed against her so demandingly, her fingers trembling with anticipation as they found and unfastened his zipper, slowly unlocking the treasure it contained. A small moan escaped from her lips as the thing for which she so frantically searched sprang forward from its confinement, hitting the cheeks of her buttocks with a loud slap as it sprang free.

She squirmed in his arms in an attempt to face him, but his strong unrelenting grip held her fast, the weight of his body pressing her forward until she was bent double across a wooden crate, her naked buttocks held high into the air.

'Slaap!' Fran jumped, a startled expression illuminating her face as she felt a sharp sting suddenly cut across her bottom as the fisherman began spanking her relentlessly.

"What the hell?" she cried, the alarm on her face spreading to one of panic.

Ignoring her protests, the fisherman was unrelenting as he delivered blow after blow with the flat of his hand, smiling as he watched the rosy red glow spread across the soft peachy flesh of her buttocks. Fran felt as though she was on fire; the myriad of sensations wracking her senses and heightening her arousal.

"Like that...do you?" he asked casually, observing the way she raised her buttocks higher into the air.

"No more...please!" she begged between sobs.

Pushing and holding her head down with his hand, he slowly removed the broad leather belt from the loops in his pants with the other and roughly tied her wrists together.

Fran struggled in desperation, the panic in her voice as she mouthed her protests becoming more urgent.

"What the hell do you think your doing?" she screamed, "You know this is rape!"

Still ignoring her pitiful cries, he satisfied himself that she was held secure and then walked around the front of the crate to face her. Reaching down he cupped her chin with his hand whilst gripping the shaft of his thick cock with the other, holding it inches away from her face.

She fastened her eyes upon it, noting how the head, now fully engorged almost seemed to glow purple as the blood pumped along the thick veins that fed it: Her breathing becoming faster as she felt her own arousal building between her legs. It was a magnificent cock and she wet her lips in anticipation, knowing what he wanted even before he mouthed the words.

"Suck it bitch!" he commanded, "Suck it like the little slut you are."

His crudeness aroused her even more. She had never really doubted for one second that she was anything else other than a slut...but to hear the words from a complete stranger was as though her darkest fantasies...her deepest desires had suddenly come true.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she opened her mouth and felt the hot shaft slide past her moist lips. A soft moan akin to the purring of a cat germinating from deep within her throat as she felt its heat throb upon her tongue. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled down sharply, forcing her to take him deeper.

A small whimper of pleasure escaped her lips as she felt his hips beginning to start a steady rhythm of gentle thrusts: Each one driving his cock deeper into the back of her throat. This was a dream come true for Fran, something that she had always secretly desired but until today had never had the opportunity to fulfil...to allow herself to be completely dominated by a man, someone such as this...this stranger that was now mercilessly fucking away at her mouth.

Her head was filled with thoughts, each one more wicked and depraved than the last. She could feel the tingle from between her legs, her cunt begging to be entered, her breasts aching to be touched...her whole body screaming out to be abused. It was as though someone had thrown a switch charging her whole body with licentious electricity.