The Silver Anklet Ch. 06

I was still thinking about my wonderful wedding day, and didn't quite grasp what he was saying. "Sorry. Got what sir?"

"What I've just been talking about, please pay attention. Your wedding dress. Have you still got it?"

Without thinking, I confirmed that I still had the dress and that I kept it in a box in my bedroom wardrobe. I had thought about selling it, but I just could not bring myself to part with it.

Uncle Ron's eyes lit up and he put on that stupid grin again. I could see his tongue moving slowly across his lips and I could have kicked myself as I knew instinctively what he was going to say next and my stomach turned over.

"Good girl, Juicy! You know how much I love you to dress up for me. Right, go upstairs to your bedroom and put it on. Let me know when you're ready and I'll come up. I think you're in need of some proper action in your marital bed for a change. What do you think?"

"Oh no! Not that, please sir," I pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want, anything at all, but not that. Please sir!" I exclaimed and I knelt down in front of him and began moving my hand along his thigh and underneath the gaping leg of his shorts, knowing that he wouldn't be wearing any underpants and hoping that I could work him up enough to make him take me there and then.

"I'll put on my school uniform again if you like sir. You know how that turned you on last time," I added, as my fingers found the underside of his hairy balls. However, he wasn't to be distracted and forcefully grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled my hand away before I could get any further.

"I said...go upstairs and put on your wedding dress," he said firmly, "and don't wear anything else. Oh, perhaps just the anklet I bought you -- I want to hear those little bells tinkling while I fuck you."

My mind was in turmoil. This was such a wrong thing to do and such a betrayal of my husband, especially as he would be returning home in just a few hours' time. However, I was by this time totally turned on by the whole situation and could feel my pussy seeping with moisture. I felt helpless and totally unable to suppress my slutty inner self from again overriding all my other feelings and taking control of my body. I sobbed tears of shame as I found myself slowly getting to my feet and quietly leaving the room and I could hear Uncle Ron chuckling to himself as I made my way slowly upstairs.

With tears rolling down my cheeks, I stripped off my running gear and slipped on my little silver anklet that Uncle Ron liked so much. I glanced at myself in my full-length mirror and was alarmed at my appearance. I still hadn't bathed and my hair was tousled and unkempt. My skin was shiny with sweat from my run and also nervousness. My eyes were red from crying and my nipples and pussy lips were tender and swollen from my virtually continuous state of sexual arousal. I also noticed a small white string of pussy juice, about an inch long, dangling disgustingly from my gorged labia, graphically betraying my true feelings.

I padded barefoot over to my wardrobe and fumbled about in the bottom until I found the box containing my wedding dress, which hadn't been opened since my wedding day. I quickly unfurled it and put it on over my naked body together with the accompanying veil attached to a silver tiara which I placed on my head.

"I'm ready sir," I mumbled nervously down the stairs. I went back in the bedroom and faced the wall, exposing my bare back where the dress was unzipped and bowed my head in embarrassment and shame. I immediately heard heavy footsteps as Uncle Ron ascended the stairs and I remained motionless and still facing the wall as he entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"Will you zip me up please sir," I said quietly, still sobbing. I could hear Uncle Ron come up behind me and I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and I gasped as his oversized, rough-skinned paws slid up and down my bare back, sending electric ripples through my body. His hands slipped around to the front and my body jerked as he pinched and twisted my erect nipples. He released them suddenly and quickly zipped up my dress and turned me round. He was completely naked and my eyes were transfixed on his engorged cock which protruded menacingly from beneath his huge hairy belly. He grabbed me suddenly and forcefully and I could feel the heat of his cock through the material of the dress as it pressed into my belly. He lowered his head to meet my mouth which I had willingly opened for him. My tongue protruded in anticipation and Uncle Ron took the hint and sucked on it noisily. His tongue continued to probe the roof of my mouth, the inside of my cheeks and my teeth.

"Such a dirty nasty little slut!" He panted as he licked my face and neck and nibbled the lobes of my ears. I was a little taken aback by this sudden abuse but, if anything, it made me feel hornier and even more compliant to Uncle Ron's forceful administrations.

He instructed me to kneel on all fours on top of the bed and I acquiesced willingly. I could hear Uncle Ron panting heavily as he left me in this position for what seemed like ages. I turned my head for a moment to see him staring at me intently and gently stroking his enormous engorged cock with one hand. I turned back and began wiggling my bottom as an invitation for him to take me. After a few more moments, I heard Uncle groan and then the bed creaked as his huge frame moved towards me on the bed and I braced myself for what would come next. He grabbed the hem of my dress and yanked it up and over my head and I felt a rush of cool air as my naked bottom half was exposed. He pushed his knee between my legs to move them apart and I could hear him grunting and mumbling to himself as his knee slid up and down my soaking cunt lips in a stroking motion.

"Ahh...I can feel the bitch is in heat. What shall I do now slut? Tell me!" he shouted, making me recoil with fright.

"Fuck me sir," I replied quickly.

"Yes, yes, but how does a bitch in heat get fucked?"

"Like a doggy sir," I heard myself say, as I became carried away by the erotic situation.

Uncle Ron laughed at my reply and asked me to repeat it several times as his giant prick probed my wet slit teasingly.

"That's a good answer. Just like a little doggy bitch."

Uncle Ron's cock continued to investigate my outer lips for what seemed like an age and, in frustration, I reached round and grabbed him and pushed his stiff tool towards my eager hole leaving him in no doubt what I wanted. We cried out in unison as he pushed his full length inside me. He began pumping frantically and moved his hips in such a way that his swollen cock pressed tightly and expertly against my clit.

"That's it sir. Right there! Don't stop!" I cried out plaintively from beneath the folds of my dress as Uncle Ron continued his frantic pumping while gripping my hips tightly with his huge, rough hands. My orgasm was mounting rapidly and arrived quickly and violently and seemed to envelope my whole body in a way I hadn't experienced before. I screamed loudly and unthinkingly uttered a series of obscenities as my whole body jerked and twitched. As my orgasm gradually subsided I realised that Uncle Ron wasn't finished and he continued to fuck me furiously. The room was filled with the sounds of Uncle Ron grunting and the little bells on my anklet tinkling prettily in contrast as my legs shook. I moved my hips backwards against him to take the initiative away from him and my own movements had the desired effect. After just a few thrusts of my hips Uncle Ron moaned loudly and I could feel his cock pumping his seed inside me while his fingers dug into the bare flesh of my sides. This produced my second orgasm, not quite as violent as the first, and I moaned again as the warm sensations spread through my body.

"Oh my God, I've come again. Thank you sir!" I screamed as we both collapsed in a heap on the bed, with Uncle Ron's cock still rammed fully inside me.

I could feel Uncle Ron's hot breath on the back of my neck as he panted heavily in the aftermath of his exertions. After a few minutes, he gently pulled out of me and turned over on his back, still panting heavily. I turned over, and felt Uncle Ron's semen oozing out of me and trickling down the tops of my thighs. I looked down and saw it making a mess on my beautiful dress and on the duvet.

"God, you're such a dirty little girl," said Uncle Ron staring at my body as I lay catching my breath in my crumpled and soiled dress. "It's no wonder you're so popular!"

"What do you mean sir?" I replied.

"Well, I've had a few fans of yours asking after you and hoping to see you again," he said smiling broadly at me as I lay next to him. "My black stripper friend, the 'Black Bull' wants to meet up with you again for a repeat performance at a future hen night. I said I'd think about it. I'm sure it will be good for my business although I don't want you getting too attached to him."

I was taken aback and my mind drifted back to my crazed behaviour at the pub in Manchester and the looks on the faces of the women as I was drilled relentlessly by the Black Bull's magnificent manhood -- some were disgusted and made their feelings plain, others were clearly turned on and most were simply staring in shocked disbelief. As if it had a mind of its own, my hand dropped to my raw and seeping pussy and my enlarged clit which I rubbed instinctively as my thoughts raced. I quickly recovered my senses and moved my hand away in embarrassment but not before Uncle Ron had seen my reaction.

"I don't think I need to ask your thoughts on that idea do I slut?" He chuckled. "Anyway, let me tell you about the two other members of your fan club. My good friend Francisco has asked me when you are going to stay at his hotel again. As he manages the place he said you can have the executive suite free of charge as long as you are a good little guest and treat him nicely." My jaw gaped open. Francisco wasn't just a room service guy as I had thought!

"Your other adoring fan is Vicky Mason, the matron at dad's care home. She phoned to ask me whether you would pay them another visit soon. I hope you don't mind but I told her about your belly dancing skills and she was thoroughly intrigued. She thinks a little performance from you might raise the spirits of the residents -- especially my old man and the other dirty old farts. Oh, and she's a dyke by the way so no doubt she has a selfish motive as well!"

I could feel myself blushing. "Oh my god no, I couldn't possibly. I'd be far too embarrassed to dance on my own in front of them. I'm not that much of an expert yet," I stammered. Despite my outward show of reluctance, deep within me something was stirring and I quite liked the idea of practising my routines in front of an audience of old lechers, showing off my body and watching their reactions.

"Nonsense Juicy. After your antics in Manchester, I'm sure that giving a little dance in front of a few old timers will be like water off a duck's back."

All these demands on me were becoming overwhelming and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. On top of these requests, I had also received a text message that morning from Christine, the hotel masseuse in Manchester, pleading with me to come back soon and reminding me that I owed her a favour after the treatment she had so deliciously provided to me. She also mentioned that her friend, Tracey, the young health spa receptionist, also wanted to meet me properly. I remembered her as the young girl who looked at me with smirking disdain at the hotel when I asked for Christine. Christine suggested that perhaps the three of us could meet up for a night out. My mind drifted again to what I could get up to with all these people. The shrill sound of the bedroom extension telephone ringing jolted me back to reality.

I stumbled off the bed gathering the folds of my dress around me, staggered barefoot across the room and picked up the phone. To my surprise it was Michael and I stumbled over my words of greeting, looking guiltily across at the prone bulk of Uncle Ron sprawled naked across the bed, lewdly wanking himself to another full erection.

"Are you all right Lucy? You sound a bit stressed." Michael enquired in a concerned way.

"No, I'm fine. I've just been for a run and I'm a bit out of breath," I answered half-truthfully. "Will you be home soon? I can't wait to see you!"

"Ah...well. Um...I'm afraid there's been a problem. Susannah wants to come over to Paris to clear up a few details and asked me to stay for a few more days. I'm really sorry. I know you were looking forward to our time away together. I was too, but I can't really refuse her seeing as she's our chief executive."

My heart sank and I could feel tears filling my eyes. As well as feeling hugely disappointed and upset, I also felt a surge of jealousy. That bitch! I thought to myself. Susannah Courtland, as well as being a powerful and successful businesswoman, was also a statuesque and highly attractive brunette in her early forties who Michael always seemed rather in awe of. I also think she wanted to get in his pants. I had met her the previous Christmas at a company social function and I found her to be annoyingly arrogant and full of her own importance. I remember also that she was somewhat dismissive of my own career as a teacher. As a woman, I could sense her feelings towards Michael and I guessed also that she was just the type of forceful personality that he would find attractive in a woman -- in fact the opposite of my own personality.

I sank to the floor, and couldn't really speak sensibly, such was my disappointment. All I remember of my own reaction was saying, rather irrelevantly, amid racking sobs, that I had already packed my bag. Michael urged me to go on my own and enjoy a change of scenery and that I deserved break but I could not think clearly and merely continued to sob down the phone to him. After some persuasion, I reluctantly agreed to go but promised that I would phone him every night. Looking back, I think I also felt subconsciously that I would benefit with a complete rest both mentally and physically to enable my mind and body to recover without the distraction of male company.

"Problems in paradise Juicy?" Sneered Uncle Ron as he padded naked over to me, his huge belly wobbling up and down as he did so. "Never mind. Come to your Uncle Ron." He knelt down and I fell into his arms as another wave of sobbing overcame me. He held me tight, stroking my hair and gently rubbing his hands down my body, still clothed in my wedding dress, as I explained haltingly what Michael had told me. I nestled into his hairy chest until my sobs fell away. I could feel the heat of his cock pressed lightly against my covered thigh as he held me and he gradually started moving his hips rhythmically and pressing harder against me. His breathing became heavier and I glanced down and watched as his cock once more stood proudly to attention. The man was insatiable! I was again transfixed by its ugly beauty -- the long swollen shaft was now caked in my drying juices and a bead of precum oozed from his glans, which reverted once more to a bright purple colour as it filled with blood.

"No... please...I can't take any more," I pleaded as he pressed harder against my leg. "I'm really raw down there sir."

"OK, give your old Uncle Ron a blow job then young Juicy." He replied, taking pity on me, as he gently pushed my head into his lap. "Then clean me up before I go. You've made me all messy, you little slut, and I want to leave you with my taste on your mouth. See it as a parting gift," he added crudely. He held his cock in his hands and wiped it across my closed lips coating them with his precum. I opened my mouth automatically to lick the wetness on my lips and he took that as his cue to push his cock into my mouth. He held my head in his hands and his hips moved to and fro as he fucked my mouth while making loud guttural noises. I was gagging and gasping for air as his cock hit the back of my throat but this only seemed to make him thrust even more forcefully. Finally, he let out a wild growl and gripped my head tightly. I immediately felt his cock pulsing and a thick spurt of his seed hit the back of my throat quickly followed by several other smaller spurts. I swallowed the pungent salty liquid hungrily as his groans of pleasure died away.

Still trying to catch my breath, I collapsed to the floor with my soiled and crumpled wedding dress billowing around me. I watched Uncle Ron as he picked up the folds of my beautiful dress and casually used the pure white lacy material to wipe clean his still oozing shaft. Without another word he dressed, went downstairs and left the house.

Gradually I came to my senses and roused myself. I stripped off my dress and stuffed it back in its box, vowing to get it professionally cleaned when I got back. I then took a long hot shower and washed my hair. I dressed for the journey in a short blue denim skirt, white T-shirt and flat sandals and tied my hair in a ponytail. I didn't bother with any underwear as I felt I wanted the air to circulate and revive my sore and used body, especially 'down below' where I was still puffy and swollen. And, quite frankly, I had become used to the feeling of freedom that going around without any underwear had given me. I quickly grabbed my packed suitcase and handbag and went out to my car to start my journey.

The two hour drive to the hotel in light Sunday afternoon traffic gave me time to gather my thoughts and analyse my feelings. I realised my jealousy over Susannah Courtland joining Michael in France, even if it was not without foundation, was utterly hypocritical on my behalf bearing in mind my antics over the last few days and especially today, when I had dishonoured our marriage by my behaviour. I was determined to have a relaxing break and attempt to recuperate, both in mind and in body, and isolate myself from the possibility of predatory attentions of other people. I convinced myself that my recent behaviour was an aberration - a never-to-be-repeated experience from which I could recover and return to my cosy suburban life as if nothing had really changed. Yet I think I knew, deep down, that I did not have the willpower to suppress my awakened desires and that, sooner or later, my body would become my master once more.