Tarton Ch. 14

My top was pulled down to my waist an hour ago, and I've been serving them drinks bare breasted since then. At one point while Tom had his tongue down my throat, and his finger tugging the hell out of my nipple, Pete had his face pressed to bum through my red panties. While all this was going on Olive's pile of money grew and grew. What fuelled all this heavy groping was Olive recounting tales of what a slut I was when I was married, and despite my husband running off, when he finally came to his senses, I hadn't changed!

Olive takes me into the hall and stands me in front of the full length mirror. She stands behind me, surveying the mess that we can both see reflected back.

"You're in a right state even for you. Look at those red blotches on your tits, and those bite marks. You should have had Harold take his false teeth out, before you let him at you."

I know it sounds insane, but here I am trying to tidy my hair. Olive smirks at my blushing face, and lifts my top up over my head. I feel her undo the button at the back of my skirt and pull the zip down. My skirt races down my nylons.

"Sylvia, where are your panties?" she asks, like some old fashioned school teacher.

"I er, don't know," I reply, feeling my red face hit furnace hot.

She leads me back in the room, and all eyes are between my legs. Harold gets to his knees rather slowly, even for a man of his age, which I have learned over the course of the evening, is seventy seven. I take a step back, but Olive's builder like hands go on my shoulders.

"Don't be shy Sylvia, you're not usually," she says in a self amused way.

The men chuckle at her words, as they have done whenever she passes a comment about me.

I watch as the bald head wrinkles, as it goes between my legs. Lapping, kissing, sucking, and slurping can be heard in the room. My left leg gets lifted on the couch by Pete, and Harold's tongue slithers in my pussy. Pete clamps his mouth on my nipple, while Tom comes and stands by my side, and then starts flicking my clit. Olive is still holding my shaking shoulders, and sat on a chair with a red face stroking his cock is Bill.

"What a filthy little whore you are Sylvia," gets whispered in my ear by Olive, as I shudder.

My head gets turned, and Olive's mouth covers mine. Her kiss is forceful and deep, so deep I think her tongue has come off and is wriggling its way down my throat, and searching out my stomach! A finger finds my asshole, and I honestly don't know who it belongs too. I squirm and push my hand back, trying to get the finger out. My hand is moved away. A few minutes later I'm on the edge of an orgasm.

I whimper and cry out a little, well I would if Olive's tongue would pull out. Gradually the groping and licking stops, but Olive and me carry on tonguing each other's mouths. It is a kiss which has lasted for 10 minutes or so, and I've managed to twist and face her. I get my hand in the top of her dress, squeezing and playing with her huge soft breasts.

Finally I open my glazed eyes and pull off the kiss. The expression on her face shows no sign of being turned on; in fact she looks at me with even more disdain.

I gulp, still trying to work out why she didn't get the least bit excited. Her expression doesn't change, as they drag me to the floor.

Harold is in me fucking me now in little jerks.

"You ought to wear condoms, you never know what you'll catch from her," Olive says, and then she smiles.

She stands there looking down, as Harold has to be helped off me. Tom takes his place, and fucks me, and then..........hell I can't remember who was next, but all four men fuck me.

It goes dark, and the faint smell of pussy gets closer. Curly hair tickles my nose and the slick wet juices of Olive's pussy runs over my face. Her dress has made a tent round my head, as she rubs her pussy all over my face in the darkness.

"Eat me you pathetic slut!"

I can hear groans from the men, as Olive rocks herself back and forth over my face. I can feel her stocking tops on my ears, as my tongue searches her pussy.

I feel shaking. She moves, and my tongue slips out of her pussy. She rubs herself over my face, under the darkness of her skirt. It gets lighter, as she stands up, and I can see her pussy getting further away.

I sit up to see the faces of the men who seemed shocked beyond anything. A shaking hand belonging to Harold wipes a towel over my face. I turn round on all fours and try pushing myself up, using the couch. I'm pinned down, and a cock belonging to Pete nudges in my pussy.

"Didn't I tell you she never says no gentlemen?"

I would say no, if I had the energy. I just let Pete fuck me until he stops, and pulls out. Tom comes at me from a slightly different angle. I can feel his excited hands pulling my ass cheeks apart.

"No not there, please not there," I whimper.

Olive's hand covers my mouth,

"Did you say something Sylvia? Was it, oh yes please, hard and deep?"

Tom squeezes in me, and starts fucking my ass.

Olive looks down, and with a smug grin, her hand slips from my mouth and she squeezes my nipple, hard.

Bill manoeuvres himself in front of me, I open my mouth, but Tom rolls us back.

Bill starts fucking my pussy, while Tom is buried in my ass. It gets a little awkward for a while, but then we get into a rhythm. I'm panting and feeling an orgasm running through my sweaty body. I look through my messed up hair at Olive. She grins at me, and I see her hand jerking Harold's cock into my red panties! It is that sight which has me shuddering to a climax on two cocks, one in my pussy, and the other in my ass!

The two men come and pull out. I go to the loo and sort myself out. When I come out the men are leaving. Olive shuts the door behind them.

"Take Max out the back," she says, handing me a plastic bag, "then you can get dressed."

It's easier to do it than to argue with her.

I stand puffing on a cigarette, shivering, waiting for Max to have a shit. Olive stands in the door way watching. Max races in past her and I pick up his mess in the plastic dog pooh bag, and put it in the bin that Olive points to.

"Good girl."

I stop, wondering if that was the first ever compliment I've received from Olive.

She hands me my clothes on the back door step.

"You can dress out here, and leave by the back gate, its dark enough so no one will see you. I'm afraid your panties, what little there was of them, are ruined, but I'm sure it is not the first time you've walked home without any."

The door closes, and the kitchen light goes out.

In all the years I've known her, we haven't had a good word to say about each other. We've had run-ins, and hearing all the gossip she has spread about me, I've wanted to scratch her eyes out, but when she kissed me, it was surprising, overpowering, and I couldn't help myself. I felt like I was her puppet.

It's hard to explain how her eyes just stared at me, as she told them things about me. The humiliation turns me on; I get off on being put in situations like that. Even though when some of the men there fingered me, and I had given them good luck kisses she didn't look at me. I knew she was enjoying every minute of me being humiliated like that. Then when she did look, when they fucked me, she looked even more superior to me.

When she lowered herself on me, it was more about me being the slut she told everyone I was. She came on my face so it was what she wanted, but from her point of view it was her proving I am what I am. When I went outside to pick up her dog's mess, it wasn't about cleaning it up; it was about her controlling me. There I was, the girl she thinks is the town bike, naked in her garden at three in the morning, grovelling around, while she stood there ruling over me, with so much satisfaction I can't quantify it words. Then she threw my clothes to me and basically told me to piss off. After all I had done for her she wouldn't even let me come back in to dress.

Olive's Story

As the men left I told them to keep their mouth's shut. They will for differing reasons I hope. I am surprised with myself, for going down on her face like that, but it was just liked I imagined. I have to keep control of her and myself. I have used her to win at cards, but then I got caught up in, and played out, one of my fantasies with the local whore. I can't let that happen again. The worst shock for me is the way I enjoyed tormenting her. It wasn't just the sexual satisfaction; it was more about degrading her and having her at my mercy. That pretty face and yes it is pretty, I can still see smeared in my juice. If those men hadn't been there, I might well have made her wear it as a mask.

I sigh, has she got to me the same way she does with men? Have I let my self down? No I have to be strong.

I wonder if Sylvia knows she is descended from Molly Redcar, the first prostitute of this town. Doctor Trent told me all about it a few years ago. She told me Molly had a baby by one of the locals. Doctor Trent said she had managed to trace Sylvia to Molly Redcar.

Sylvia's Story

I slip out of the bath, and sit at my computer. I remember what went on, and type it out. I really don't know how I can remember such vivid details of the sex. I put it down to liking sex so much.

I just can't say no especially to guys like Nathan Murray. He has money and is moving up in the political world. For some reason I can't help being drawn to him, even though he treats me like shit.

When I played Molly for him and his stupid friends I couldn't believe how easy it was. It was like I had been in that situation before. I rub my neck; sometimes it feels tight, like something is gripping me round it. Then I have these back spasm, almost like someone is pulling my head up, and then my feet give way, like I'm dropping, but I'm still being held up. I rub the cream in my neck which Doctor Trent gave me. It eases it, and in a matter of minutes the pain goes.

I turn my attention back to Olive. I still can't believe it's the same Olive who is such a bitch to me. At least now I've got something on her to throw back in her face. The trouble is I'm not like that but hell I'd like to be, just once.

I plug my phone in the charger, and read a new message, that was sent to my phone, while I was the centre of, the pensioner card night orgy! It's from Matt, who says he has split up with Lucy, and do I fancy a drink? A second text sent 15 minutes after the first, says he has just got in the pub and I'm not working. A third text, 12 minutes after the last, tells me he is pissed off waiting.

I slip into bed and phone him.

"Hey, we could go out tomorrow night if you like?"

He replies in a whispering voice, "Sorry, I'm sort of back on with Lucy. But maybe if you just fancy a little fun?"

I end the call, before I have the chance to say yes.