Sandi's Erotic Adventures Ch. 43

Sandi's Erotic Adventures.

By Scribe 10

A semi-autobiographical account of my sexual encounters over many years.

Chapter Forty-Three. 2019 July to December.

(July/August). Aaron continued.

My affair with Aaron proceeded nicely, with him coming to my house most evenings. Daytime assignations were of course only possible at weekends due to our work but I made a point of only taking on assignments which were reasonably close, thus avoiding any which necessitated nights away from home.

Weekends were different though and Aaron often spent entire days at my house. I introduced him to the joys of outdoor lovemaking, having sex on my reduced lawn surrounded by his garden creation. As he fucked me on the lawn I thanked the day that Aaron's father dropped his card through my letter box!

I also managed, without much difficulty it must be said, to persuade Aaron to stay over on some Friday and Saturday nights; he told his parents the little white lie that he was staying with a 'mate'.

Waking in the mornings to find this handsome youngster in bed beside me, inevitably sporting a massive erection, was a delight. Having a very attractive and attentive lover, possessing a massive penis and insatiable sexual appetite, what more could a girl want.

At the beginning of August Aaron's parents went away for a two-week holiday, as they do twice a year apparently, summer and winter, augmenting the staff with a couple of temporary workers. Aaron was left in charge so wouldn't be free to do much of the actual garden work, being busy with the office side of things. I urged Aaron to move in with me for the fortnight and travel to the office in the mornings to give the staff their instructions for the day.

I worked exclusively from home for the two-week period and each morning after instructing the staff in their duties Aaron would invariably come back to the house and make love to me, often for hours at a time.

Most evenings I took him for a meal, always using places I don't normally frequent to avoid bumping into acquaintances and having to dream up a story explaining who he was.

We were fucking morning, noon and night, it was a truly idyllic two weeks. Waking each morning with a very attractive and randy young guy beside me, invariably sporting a full erection, the fortnight passed in a dream for me and far too quickly for both of us I think.

On his parents return from holiday Aaron spent less time at my house but still stayed over most Friday and Saturday nights.

At the end of August though things changed. Aaron arrived on the Friday evening saying he could only stay for one night. Although he seemed a little preoccupied we made love as usual and I drifted off to sleep happily in his arms afterwards.

Waking in the morning I saw Aaron standing by the bedroom window, his naked form bathed in a shaft of sunlight. My eyes gravitated as ever to the magnificent penis hanging, flaccid for now, between his thighs and urged him to come back to bed. There was a pensive look on Aaron's face as he crossed the room to slip into bed beside me.

It was after we made love that Aaron dropped the bombshell, although I'd always known it would only be a matter of time.

The upshot was, that while working on a new contract; another new garden design thanks to the publicity photos of the one designed for me ironically, he'd fallen for the daughter of the house. Aaron was apologetic while explaining that he was in love with her so ought not spend any more time with me.

"I'll never forget you and all you've taught me about lovemaking," Aaron said. "I've enjoyed a fantastic three and a half months with you."

"And I will always remember with fondness our time together," I replied with a lump in my throat. "Never forget that you'll always be welcome in my home and bed."

Despite knowing it had been inevitable that Aaron would meet a girl his own age sooner or later, I was nevertheless saddened by the abrupt end of my affair with the handsome young guy.

(September 19th). Beefy and gang, a second adventure.

Naturally I was feeling low, now that my wonderful affair with Aaron had come to an end. Sexually frustrated too, which a couple of one night stands did little to alleviate. So it was that I found myself in the right frame of mind for the very sordid encounter detailed below.

The events of August 2015 where I was used, abused and gang-raped, had remained in my memory ever since. I have enjoyed many memorable sexual encounters over the years, including being taken by large groups of guys, but what befell me at the hands of Baz and his gang, Beefy in particular, seemed to be something I'd been subconsciously waiting for all my life reminding me as it did of the similar, but much tamer, brookside assault related in my very first story. The entire scenario, the abuse both verbal and physical I was subjected to, my gang-rape by the mob of jeering youths, is something I've relived many times since, usually while masturbating.

So, when I was offered an assignment in W. the small town a few miles from the scene I jumped at the chance to return. I've previously declined a few cases in W but now, mourning the end of my fantastic affair with Aaron, felt that perhaps the time was right for a return.

The assignment would take three days at most but I booked an extra night at the hotel intending to use the extra day to revisit the scene of my 'ordeal' at the hands of Baz and the gang.

Although my mind wasn't fully occupied on the case notes, frequently wandering off to what might or might not happen on the extra day, I managed to concentrate my thoughts sufficiently to complete the work in the allotted time frame.

Well, this is it I thought, as I drove from W next day. Approaching the gateway I wondered if I dare stop and take the planned walk. Of course I must stop, having spent so much time thinking about it, and pulled on to the wide grass verge in much the same place as I had four years earlier.

Slipping into my flat-bottomed walking shoes I set off along the track. Arriving at the bridge I found it deserted but the amount of detritus littering the ground indicated that the area was still used as a meeting place. Unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed, I passed through the gap in the hedge and started walking along by the brook. Approaching the scene of my gang-rape I felt a quickening excitement on recognising the very tree they'd tied me to for the second round. I found myself reliving the encounter as I gazed around at the scenery.

Eventually pulling myself together I began the walk back to the bridge, something fluttering in the bushes on the far side of the brook soon arresting my attention. It was my panties from last time, panties which had been ripped from my body and thrown into the stream by Beefy! They must have gotten caught up in the bush and remained there ever since, gradually becoming ever more tattered and discoloured. Instinctively I took a couple of pictures of the bush on my phone.

Feeling oddly excited by the discovery I continued my walk back to the bridge. Approaching it my heart skipped a beat when I saw the bridge was no longer deserted. A number of youths leaned or sat on the parapet, some of who turned to look as I emerged once more on to the farm track.

My feet seemed leaden as I made my way ever slower over the bridge, my heart beating fast. I was almost clear of the youths and decided they must be a completely different set; after all it was four years ago. I hadn't recognised any one as I passed but then most of the faces from 2015 were just a blur anyway.

Suddenly though, one of them jumped down from the parapet exclaiming, "It is! It's the old slapper we had fun with a few years back."

I actually recognised the voice of the one called Clint, older now of course, probably mid-twenties.

"Have yer come back for more then?"

His arms encircled my waist and he tried to kiss me.

"Get away you brute."

I struggled free from his arms only to find myself grabbed again, this time from behind.

I realised that Clint was the only one of the original group present when he said to the rest, "This is the old slapper you've heard about from Baz and the boys. Some of you have probably seen the pics."

"I've seen the photos but wasn't looking at her face!" the one holding me from behind said.

During the hubbub which followed I heard someone suggest ringing Beefy and other of their mates.

It transpired that the one holding me in a very tight grip was Beefy's younger brother, aptly nicknamed Porky.

A black guy called Andy, after returning a phone to his pocket, came across and yanked my skirt up.

"There you are, stockings just like last time," Clint announced.

Andy pressed his lips to mine before urging me to open my legs.

"Certainly not!" I replied, as though outraged by the very idea.

"Shut the fuck up and do as Andy said, you old tart," Clint shouted.

The others were crowding around me now and several hands on my legs forced them apart for Andy's fingers to worm their way inside my panties.

"Hey, her cunt's hairless!" he shouted. "I thought she had pubic hair on the pictures you guys took."

"That's right," Clint told him. "Let's have a look."

My panties were pulled down sufficiently to expose my lack of pubic hair and someone shouted, "I like that!"

Jostled by the youths surrounding me I heard someone say, "Let's take the old tart to the 'shippon', well out the way of nosy bastards."

"Good idea. We can really give the old tart a good seeing to in there."

"What we'll do is this," Clint interjected. "We'll strip her as we go and leave a trail of clothes for the rest to follow."

With that I barely had time to pull my panties back up before they dragged me to a gap in the hedge diametrically opposite the one I had just emerged from. Someone relieved me of my shoulder bag and when I pleaded with him to look after it the young guy assured me he would. When my shoes became dislodged in the process they were used to mark the beginning of the trail.

With two of them holding my wrists to pull me along and others prodding and pushing me from behind, I was manhandled across the field, stockings quickly shredding on my feet.

Reaching a style in the next hedge I was ordered to take my skirt off, "Unless you want us to rip it off yer."

I didn't want that so unzipped and removed my skirt which was then left on the style to mark our path.

At the next style it was my top that was left behind and onwards we went, giving me little time to dwell on what might happen to me when we reached their destination.

Perhaps there wasn't much farther to go I thought when about half way across the next field they stopped and forcibly removed my bra, and none too gently at that. A brief pause then as with a couple of them holding my wrists, the rest pawed my breasts, Andy and Porky tweaking my nipples quite painfully, before I was dragged onwards again.

At the next style my stockings and suspender belt were left as markers.

Once again they came to a halt half way across the field and as you might have guessed, it was the only item of clothing I had left, my panties were ripped from my body. And ripped they were, Porky tearing my panties to shreds before my eyes.

I was stark naked amongst the group of youths which appeared to be growing larger by the minute as newcomers hurried across the fields to join in the fun. Pushed, prodded and jostled across the remaining section of field to the hedge I saw the roof of the building called 'shippon' looming up ahead.

With many hands slapping, pinching and pummeling my bottom and breasts I was forced onwards towards the 'shippon', the taunts and jeers of the many youths ringing in my ears.

I realised that the barn, fully open to the elements on one side, greatly resembled the barn in which I lost my virginity, only this one was a lot bigger. I also realised that 'shippon' must be slang or something for cow byre when a voice shouted,

"Great idea boys, a cow barn. Just right for this old cow!"

It was a voice I instantly recognised as Beefy and a shiver of fear ran through me when he whacked my bottom with a stick picked up on route to join us.

"Look at the old slapper's shaven cunt Beefy," someone said and I was spun round to see the grinning face of the repulsive looking youth, or rather young man now.

Of course Beefy didn't stand on ceremony, slapping my breasts and shouting, "Spread yer legs you old tart."

I did so promptly but he still slapped my face quite viciously a couple of times, playing to the audience of cheering louts.

Beefy then thrust a hand roughly between my thighs and announced to the others that I was soaking wet.

"The old tart wants cock and she's gonna get plenty, eh boys. Her cunt's ripe and ours for the taking," he shouted, fingering me roughly, his leering face pressing to mine.

There was a roar of approval from the others, who I realised numbered more than twenty by this time with yet others hurrying to join in.

The second of the three black guy present picked up the stick which Beefy had discarded and began beating my backside with it. With Beefy's fingers reaming me out fiercely and others grabbing at my breasts, my yells rang out as the beating of my bottom intensified. Suddenly, and as if by a signal, although I wasn't aware of one, all action stopped and I slumped to the ground. Respite was brief though. Someone grabbed a handful of hair and pulled me up on to my knees. The nameless youth then pushed his genitals into my face and rubbed them back and forth.

"Suck my cock bitch," he snarled and I opened my mouth to receive it.

While I sucked on the distinctly smelly penis I heard Beefy shout that it would be first of many, his words exciting me.

I've no idea how long this part of my 'ordeal' lasted but with penis after penis pumping in and out of my mouth the lips began to feel sore and cracked.

Eventually it was Beefy's turn and after rubbing his testicles all over my face he drove his fat penis into my mouth. Not for long though. Suddenly he pulled back and placing a foot on my shoulder sent me sprawling backwards on to the straw and dirt.

"Quick, hold her head still I need a fart."

So saying Beefy squatted over my face and with his laughing friends holding my head in a firm grip I found myself staring up at his fat and blotchy backside. Then, with his anus hovering just centimetres above he broke wind, long and loud. The foul smell wafted over my face and I thought I'd choke, it was that bad.

When the laughing Beefy stood up I told him he was a disgusting, obnoxious creature and I loathed him. He simply laughed the louder before saying, "Think me obnoxious do you. Before we've done with you I'm gonna fuck you up the arse, but first I'm having your greasy well-used cunt again, we all are. Hold the tart's legs wide open boys, I'm going in."

So saying, Beefy mounted me and with some of his friends yanking my legs extremely wide apart, drove his penis into me. I yelled, perhaps with relief that it was beginning?

"Obnoxious am I, take that," he jeered before pressing his lips to mine.

Breaking from the kiss he grinned down at me and began fucking me hard and fast, my yells ringing out with every thrust of his fat penis into me.

He didn't last long and heaving himself off me Beefy jeered, "There, not so talkative now are you and there's another twenty-four cocks lined up waiting for a turn."

My loud exclamation, one of excitement whether he knew it or not, prompted Beefy's renewed laughter before Clint urged him to move over.

"The rest of us are waiting a turn."

As Clint replaced Beefy on top of me I caught a tantalising glimpse of the many erect cocks surrounding me and my spirits soared!

Clint fucked me as roughly as Beefy before him and was then replaced by one of the black guys.

One after the other all the youths fucked me, most only lasting a short time, and I shall have to take Beefy's word that there were twenty-five in all as it was impossible to keep count. Actually I didn't try, simply yelling my joy, or perhaps relief might sum up my feelings better, as each fresh cock drove into me.

It was over, or at least part one of my humiliation at their hands was; I was under no illusions that it would end here and of didn't want it to! Of course there was a certain amount of fear about what these rough and ready louts might do to me but the fear was greatly offset by excitement.

The youths, or rather louts, stood around talking and exchanging crude remarks about what they'd done, while staring down at me laying on the dirty ground at their feet. Beefy took my shoulder bag down from where it had been hung on a rusty nail and upended it on the ground. They rifled through the contents and Beefy exclaimed, "Only a bit of loose change. I knew the old slapper came here wanting cock, that's why she ain't carrying much dosh."

He was of course right. Remembering how in 2015 they'd robbed as well as raped me I had deliberately placed any paper money inside my suitcase in the boot of the car.

Beefy kicked my thigh and told me to get up. I stumbled to my feet and seeing that he again had the stick in his hand knew what to expect.

"Over the barrel with you!" he shouted, pushing me towards a large wooden barrel laying on its side a little way off.

I protested, purely for appearances sake, and perhaps subconsciously wanting to provoke him into using force. If so it had the desired result!

Several of them grabbed my arms and I was dragged roughly across to the barrel and forced face down over it.

"What a cracking arse," someone shouted just before the first blow of the stick landed on it.

Held down over the barrel I yelled continuously as Beefy lashed at my bottom with his stick. My yells turned to screams when a second lout joined in, beating my bottom with an implement which turned out to be a rusty metal rod.

I knew I'd been playing a dangerous game in provoking them when, egging one another on, the stick and metal rod were passed from hand to hand, many of the jeering youths taking a turn to beat my defenceless buttocks.

Their jeers and excited shouts died away then, the silence broken only by the swish of the two implements and my anguished screams.

Eventually, the blows ceased and I was yanked upright. I finally felt cowed and scared by the violence displayed towards me and merely whimpered as I was again dragged across the barn, this time to be forced face down over a bale of hay. It was Beefy who then grabbed a handful of hair to yank my head up.

"We're all going to fuck you again now," he snarled, his face close to mine, "using both holes this time you old tart. I know damn well you came here for a good fucking and you're going to get one."

Letting my head drop and seeming even more sadistic than on the previous occasion he turned to the others and exhorted them to show me no mercy.

"Do your best, or rather worst, and give the old slapper a fucking she'll remember for years to come. Use whichever hole you want but lots off you fuck her up the arse, I want to see the old tart crawling out of here by the time we've finished with her."

A penis drove into me but I have no idea who it belonged to, bent over the bale of hay it was impossible to see even if I'd wanted to.

Several of them fucked me before Beefy slapped my already tortured buttocks, telling me he was going next.

"And I'm fucking you up the arse, remember?"

I didn't reply but felt his hands on my buttocks pulling them apart.

"Use that tube of stuff we found to lubricate her arsehole Porky while I do me cock."

Of course, in rifling my bag they'd found the tube of lubricant and knew exactly what it was for.

My thoughts were interrupted by the feel of Beefy's penis prodding at my anal opening.