Matt and Lauren Pt. 04

"Ow-right darlin'," the man said as he plumped himself down beside me, "bought you a drink, Derek said you were drinking this," he added as he plonked the glass down in front of me.

"Oh ... erm ... thanks," I replied. I looked around hoping to see Mr Croft.

"My names Clint," the man said as he leered at me, "what's yours darlin'."

"Erm ... Lauren," I replied hesitantly.

"Lauren ... uumm ... nice name for a pretty girl."

"Oh ... erm ... thanks," I replied. He was beginning to make me feel really uncomfortable. He was a skinny man with a gaunt, pock marked face that made his age difficult to guess. But if I was pushed I would have gone for late fifties. The other thing I noticed, which was hard not to miss was his lack of teeth. Those he did have appeared rotten and broken.

"You smell nice too," he added after a pause, "and your dress is nice as well."

"Thanks," I replied as I looked for Mr Croft again.

"You've got great legs, very shapely," he said as he put his hand on my knee. I batted it away. He responded by sliding nearer to me in the booth. I tried to get away from him but he just scooted after me until I could go no further.

His hand was back on my knee and then he began to rub it up and down my thigh. I tried to stop him but he was persistent and was soon getting nearer and nearer to the top of my legs.

"Stop it," I hissed forcibly as I swatted his hand away. He seemed to give in but the respite was temporary.

"Nice tits," he said as he grabbed hold of my left breast. He gave it a squeeze and then rubbed it with the palm of his hand. He must have known what he was doing because I could feel my nipple getting bigger and bigger with every pass of his hand across my boob.

I struggled initially but soon my eyes began to flicker as I felt the first hint of my unwanted arousal. His hand was on my knee again and then I felt it slide under my dress. He pushed against my other leg wanting me to open them for him, which to my shame I found myself doing.

"No ... please ... no ..." I whimpered as his hand worked it's way further up my leg taking the hem of the dress with it. My legs opened wider as his fingers reached out and touched my mound.

"Ohhh gaaaawd," I moaned as my whole body shuddered. His fingers played with my lips and toyed with my clit. I was gone. Too many gins and I was done for. Clint must have sensed he was going to get unbelievably lucky as he leaned in and kissed me. I gagged as he stuck his tongue inside my mouth but I tongued him back as he roughly groped my breasts and rolled my nipples between his fingers.

He assaulted me for a few minutes. I have no idea exactly how long as I was pretty much out of it by now. All I knew was that I was turned on and my pussy was dripping with need.

I stared at Clint almost pleading with him as he played with my tits with one hand. The other hand was wedged deep between my legs, his fingers strumming my pussy lips.

"Let's go outside darlin'," he said as he struggled out of the booth. I followed behind feeling eyes boring into my back as Clint led me out the rear door and into the alley behind the bar.

The alley was dark and it smelled of piss and vomit. It made me gag but it didn't seem to bother Clint. He pushed me back against the wall and lifted the bottom of my dress up to my hips. And then he went down on his knees and buried his head between my thighs.

"Ohhh gaaaawd," I groaned as his tongue flicked out. I was shaking so much from the intense feeling. It was dirty and disgusting and I was aroused. I truly was worse than a slut now.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

The loud roar made Clint jump up.

"SHIT!" Clint screamed as he was dragged forcibly backwards away from me.

"PLEASE NO!" I heard the thump and then the crack of bone on bone.

"YOU BASTARD CLINT," I heard the voice say. "Now fuck off you little scrote."

I heard Clint crying as he scurried away. I knew that my saviour, if that's what you could call it, was Mr Croft.

"You really are a tramp Mrs Stephens, aren't you. Were you actually going to let that weasel Clint fuck you?"

"No ... no ... I ... didn't ... I ..."

"No matter," he grunted. I heard the sound of a zip being lowered and then his rough hands were on my thighs as he raised me up onto my tiptoes. His cock was huge and hard as he pushed it inside my pussy.

He fucked me hard and I moaned and groaned as I clung onto his shoulders for dear life as he took me through several orgasms before dumping a load of his spunk deep inside my pussy.

Eventually he took me home but that was after we went back inside the bar for a few more drinks. People kept coming over to talk to him and ogle me. It turned me on more than I care to admit it did but then again he did have his hand up my dress for most of the time.

When we got home he took me into the house, bent me over the kitchen table and fucked me hard for twenty minutes or so making me have three more orgasms.

When he finally left I was dishevelled and sweaty but elated, sated, disgusted and sick. I was beginning to think I needed help. But at least I'd paid half of this months rent, so that was good ... wasn't it?

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Author's notes

My political reference in this story was made only to enhance the storyline and nothing else. All my characters are apolitical so any inference or similarity to past or present British politics is absolutely coincidental.

Matt and Lauren will return in Part 5.