Sally's Slut Stories Ch. 07

Sally, of course, was mortified. She must have inadvertently picked up a checkbook from an account that Ted had already plundered, and written a check that was essentially worthless. Then the full impact of his words began to sink in, and a feeling of dread began to build. That feeling was confirmed when she looked over at the funeral director and saw him looking up and down her body, undressing her with his eyes.

This was truly a repulsive prospect in Sally's mind. Thomas was the stereotypical mortician, aged around 50, tall and lean with a pinched, almost cadaverous look.

"Mr. McDonald, it was a mistake," Sally said in a pleading tone. "Ted ran through so many bank accounts that I wasn't sure which ones had money and which ones didn't. I thought that account was flush. I can make the check good without much problem."

"I'm sure you could, but how am I to know that you would?" Thomas replied. "Once you leave here, everything is done, over, and you could just forget to pay me. No, I want payment now, in something, um, tangible."

At that, he placed a claw-like hand on Sally's smooth leg and began to caress her. He was eagerly anticipating an encounter with this little whore. He was married to a shrew who rarely consented to sex of any sort, let alone the kind of sex he preferred.

Sally shuddered at the thought of giving herself to this man, but even as she did, the need in her was so great that she just nodded her head.

"What do you want from me?" she asked in a small voice. This was turning into a truly horrible day, a day where her station in life had been driven home in a way even Ted could never have envisioned. She understood once and for all that she was just a piece of meat to be used for the gratification of anyone who wanted her. And her feelings were of no concern to anyone.

"Oh, I think you know, my dear," Thomas replied triumphantly. "I know what you and that lawyer were up to in my office. We made an agreement that he could use my desk as long as he left his cum in you, the better to ease my, uh, passage."

As he spoke, Thomas started the hearse and drove slowly toward the back of the cemetery. At the back edge of the cemetery, well back out of sight from any passers-by, was a small grove of trees. Thomas drove the hearse back into the grove and parked. The trees not only provided cover for their illicit rendezvous, but offered some shade on what had become quite a warm afternoon.

Thomas got out of the hearse and lit a cigarette while Sally took her bindle of cocaine from her purse and stuffed three spoonfuls up each nostril. She wanted to be sky-high for this encounter, because otherwise she believed she'd get sick. In fact, she could feel herself getting sick anyway, from the lack of food and from a dull pain she was starting to feel in her abdomen.

When Thomas had finished his cigarette, he took off his jacket and draped it over the front seat on the driver's side, then he opened the door to the back seat of the hearse and told Sally to take off her dress and climb in the back seat. Sally pulled her dress over her head and dropped it on the seat, then crawled into the back seat clad in her bra, panties and high heels. On Thomas' order, she leaned over the back seat, facing the back of the hearse.

Thomas' cock was stiff as a board as he cast lusting eyes on Sally's trim body. And Sally, despite her revulsion, was starting to feel her arousal begin to climb. She'd been sitting on the edge of a tremendous climax for nearly two hours, plus the latest dose of coke was starting to hit her in a major way. As a result, she had about reached the point where she didn't care who fucked her as long as someone gave her what she needed.

The funeral director ran his hands all over Sally's torso, over her butt, down the outside of her legs and back up between her legs to her soaking-wet crotch. He slid his bony fingers under her panties and was thrilled at the wetness he felt all up and down her crotch. Robert's cum, combined with her own juices had left her dripping from her abdomen almost to the small of her back, and for Thomas that was just what the doctor ordered.

Abruptly, Thomas pulled Sally's panties off her hips and down her thighs to her knees, then told her to spread her legs as wide as possible. That had the effect of stretching her panties into a black strip of cloth, just the whorish look Thomas was looking for. He unbuckled his belt, opened his pants and dropped them and his boxer shorts to his ankles. He ran a hand up Sally's dripping cunt to her pink, puckered asshole, which he suddenly penetrated with his middle finger.

Sally squealed in surprise at the sudden intrusion, and knew right then what the funeral director intended to do to her. Thomas finger-fucked Sally's ass for several seconds, then added a second finger and began to ream her ass harder and faster. Sally closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her. She would have preferred to have him fuck her pussy, but a good butt-fucking wouldn't be bad either.

Sure enough, after fingering Sally's butt long enough to get her good and wet, Thomas grasped his cock at the base and aimed it for the waiting hole. Sally glanced back and saw that Thomas was holding quite a long, fat cock, the kind she liked.

"Open yourself up, whore," he growled. "Pull open your butt and tell me how bad you want me to fuck your hot little ass."

"Ummm, yeah, fuck my ass," Sally gasped, as she pulled herself open. "Fuck my ass with your big hard cock. I need it so baaaaaad."

Thomas put the head of his cock to Sally's asshole and pushed. After a moment's resistance, the head popped past her anal ring and he slid his dick slowly, but steadily up her backside. Sally squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists at the initial intrusion, but the pain quickly subsided and she quickly got into the rhythm of Thomas' cock drilling back and forth in her ass. She thrust her hips back to get as much of his considerable cock in her rectum as possible, and she snaked a hand between her legs to get at her obscenely-bloated clit.

It didn't take much of that before Sally felt her orgasm boil over like a pressure cooker, and with a series of gasps, cries and moans, her body convulsed as she finally achieved her long-overdue climax. And she knew she wasn't finished, as Thomas showed admirable staying power, considering how much he'd anticipated this event, and how tight and velvety Sally's anus was around his cock.

"You are a whore, aren't you," Thomas snarled, his sympathetic act gone. "Isn't that right.. You'll fuck anybody, won't you. Answer me! Tell me what you are, slut."

The words were like daggers to the heart, but Sally was too far gone to care, so she gave the man what he wanted.

"I-I-I'm a slut," Sally stuttered as she continued to thrust her hips back on Thomas' pistoning cock. "I'm a slut and a whore. Your whore. Ah, ah, ah, just fuuuuuuucccccckkkk meeeeee!"

As he methodically fucked Sally into oblivion, he reached up and pulled her tits from the cups of her bra. He squeezed her swollen mounds and pinched her bullet-stiff nipples, sending waves of pleasure coursing all through her body. It didn't take much of that, either, to trigger another, more intense orgasm. Sally's body was like a live wire, twitching and shuddering as the climax washed over her.

As she came again, her rectum clenched tightly, and Thomas felt his cum beginning to reach the explosion point. Grabbing Sally's hips, he drove his cock furiously back and forth in Sally's ass, pumping hard as the tingling sensation grew into an unstoppable wave. With a gasp, Thomas pulled Sally's hips to him one final time and blew off one of the most intense cum loads he'd ever shot. It was hard, long and unbelievably thick.

Sally felt Thomas' cock swell in her ass and she felt his cum fill her bowels, to the point of overflowing. Thomas just kept pumping, and the cum oozed out from around his cock like a creamy flow, over her pussy and down the insides of her thighs. Thomas' explosion was so intense it triggered a third, weaker orgasm to slither through Sally's body.

Finally, it was over. Sally could feel Thomas relax and his cock wilted until it slid out of her gaping asshole, followed closely by a stream of creamy cum that added to the flow running down her legs. Thomas rolled to the side, sat down hard on the seat and pulled up his pants, then staggered out the car door. Sally slumped on the back seat, physically and mentally exhausted. The cocaine in her system was fighting a losing battle with her tattered emotions, and all she wanted to do now was leave this dispicable man and this depressing place and go home. She stuck her tits back into her bra, but didn't bother with her panties. She just pulled them the rest of the way off her legs and tossed them on the front seat. She got out of the car, squatted down to pee and realized she was extremely thirsty. She pulled her dress on, not caring that it didn't quite fit like it was supposed to, or that it was soiled with semen and sweat.

Thomas finished dressing and returned to the hearse then they returned to the funeral home. Now that he'd gotten what he wanted, the funeral director was back into his solicitous act, telling Sally what a nice girl she was, and that she needed to come by again in about a month. Sally just stared out the window. Her emotions were hanging on a thread, but she was damned if she was going to let this man see her crack. When they returned to the parking lot, Sally got out stiffly and walked in silence to her car.

Once inside and behind the wheel, Sally finally lost it. She cried bitter tears over the way the day had gone, about the way she'd been used and about the way the future looked. And in that moment, something cracked in her mind. Still weeping, she suddenly pulled the car out of the parking lot and drove, not to her mother's house, but toward her own little bungalow. On the way, she stopped at the corner liquor store, and with the last few dollars in her purse, bought a pint of cheap vodka. She ignored the leers from other patrons who couldn't help but notice her disheveled condition and the smell of sex that permeated her body.

As soon as Sally walked in the door, she cracked the bottle open and took a big swig, not even bothering to mix a drink. Then she opened her purse, pulled out her bindle of cocaine, got her mirror and dumped the contents onto the mirror. The rest of the afternoon and into the night, Sally sat at her table, drinking straight shots of vodka and snorting up her entire stash of coke, ignoring the gnawing pain in her gut. She ignored, too, the incessant ringing of her telephone, not wanting to see or talk to anyone.

It was sometime not long after midnight that Sylvia walked into Sally's house and found her sister passed out on the bathroom floor, curled up in the fetal position. She was still wearing the stained black dress she'd worn that day, although now, in addition to the obvious cum stains on the skirt, there was evidence that Sally had vomited all over herself. Sylvia managed to get Sally up, got the dress off of her, tried to clean her up as best she could and started to lay her down on the bed. Then she noticed blood on the insides of Sally's legs, and realized that her sister was in serious trouble.

Sally was all but comatose, but Sylvia managed to get a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on her, then dragged Sally out to her car and took her to the hospital.

To be continued...