The Silver Anklet Ch. 07 Pt. 02

Holding my shoes and small clutch bag, I was virtually frogmarched towards the hotel lifts by Ted and Colin, with the others trailing behind. We entered the lift along with a respectable looking elderly couple who looked at me with disdain as I was wedged tightly between the two men. I followed their astonished stares downwards and saw that the arms of my two male companions encircling my waist had caused my tiny dress to rise up, exposing even more of my unadorned thighs. Their disapproving attitude had the effect only to give me a bout of the giggles.

The lift doors opened on the 6th floor, and just at that moment my mobile phone began to ring. I quickly retrieved it from my bag and my heart jumped a beat as I saw that the caller was my husband, Michael.

'It's probably your mum wondering where you are,' said Ted mischievously as we stepped out of the lift. This produced further disgusted looks and tutting noises from the old couple and I quickly attempted to retrieve the situation hoping that they didn't get the wrong idea.

'Look, I'm 23 and it's my husband not my mum.'

I managed to disentangle myself from Ted and Colin and made a dash down the corridor for some privacy but not before I heard the old lady mutter: 'Then you should be ashamed of yourself dear,' and at that moment 'ashamed' was exactly how I was feeling.

'Don't be long blondie, we've got plans for you. We're in room 612.' I heard Ted shout as I hurried away.

At the end of the corridor a door led to the stairwell, which I entered before answering the call. After the warm carpeting of the hotel, the stone floor was cold and hard on my bare feet. I nervously hoped that my voice would appear as normal as possible, even though I was out of breath in my haste to get away from Ted and the others.

'Darling...it's nearly midnight. Is everything OK?'

'Sorry. Yes Luce...it's just that I'm missing you so much and I just wanted to hear your voice. To tell the truth I'm a bit upset that you seemed a bit angry with me earlier and I just wanted to make sure...you know...that we're OK.'

I felt a surge of guilt at these words from my ever-reasonable husband. You hypocritical bitch Lucy, I thought to myself. You have been behaving like the world's worst slut yet you had the gall to cover that up by accusing him of lusting after his boss. I felt my eyes fill with self-indulgent tears of guilt and shame.

'Of course we're OK darling. Don't take any notice of me, I was just being a bitch. To be honest, I wouldn't blame you if you fancied Susannah. She's tall, beautiful and sophisticated and obviously very clever. Next to her I feel like a silly little girl.'

'Don't put yourself down like that Luce. You're the sexiest girl in the whole world and I'm very lucky to have you. You know that I love only you don't you?'

These words just broke me up inside and I was overcome with remorse. I started to sob uncontrollably and I stumbled over my reply. 'I know you do. I'm so sorry...I'm a bitch...can't help myself...need to talk...,' I rambled on incoherently between racking sobs.

'Luce, darling, there's really no need to apologise for being jealous. It's all my fault for putting my job first and being away from you for so long.'

'No, you don't understand. I'm ashamed of myself...I...I've done things..' I was on the verge of confessing everything to my husband, but I couldn't control my sobs and I had to stop in mid-sentence. I quickly covered the phone with my hand to prevent Michael from hearing my distress.

I could hear Michael's worried voice down the phone asking me if I was all right. Not for the first time, my mind was in a total state of turmoil but I only had myself to blame. My only thought was to end my conversation with Michael and to give myself space to think. I quickly put the phone to my ear again and tried as best as I could to assure him that I was fine, but that I was very tired and over-emotional. I promised to phone him the following day so we could have a proper conversation. After seeking further assurances that I was all right, Michael reluctantly agreed and hung up.

Wiping the tears away with the back of my hand I glanced at my phone and noticed that I had two outstanding text messages. The first was from Uncle Ron: 'Are you missing me Juicy?' it simply said, although there was a picture attachment which I opened. As was typical of the old perv It was a close-up of his very erect penis with its ugly corded veins disgustingly visible down its shaft.

The second text was more intriguing and rather pleading. It was from Tracey, the young receptionist from the hotel in Manchester I recently visited. It said: 'Please please PLEASE call me as soon as you can. It's about my friend Christine. I'm sure you remember her!! Anyway, it's her birthday soon and I want to surprise her. I would love it if you could help me with this and I think I you would love it too!! PLEASE CALL and I will explain everything!!'

My mind drifted back to the truly wonderful massage I had received at the experienced hands of the mature woman, Christine, at the hotel and the promise I had made to her to return the favour in some way. I was intrigued and more than a little interested in resuming my acquaintance with the lovely Christine, so I made a mental note to call Tracey the following day after making my peace with Michael.

Still feeling overcome with guilt after my fraught phone conversation with my husband, I was in two minds as to what to do next - whether to join my new friends in Ted's room or do the sensible thing and return to my own room before I got myself into any more scrapes. While I stood there dithering I heard the sound of laughter and raised voices coming from below and realised there were people coming up the stairs.

In my present state I didn't want to be seen by anyone, so I turned to leave the stairwell but, in my haste, I stumbled and dropped my shoes and bag that I was still clutching. Cursing to myself, I bent down to retrieve them but soon realised that this was perhaps not a smart move given the diminutive nature of my dress and my lack of underwear.

'Fuck! Would you look at that sweet little fanny exposed for all the world to see,' uttered a deep voice from behind me. I stood quickly and turned to see three men, all I would guess in their forties or fifties, standing at the top of the stairs, sporting wide grins and with eyes nearly popping out of their skulls.

'Hey boys, it's the little blonde who was with old Ted's group,' said the oldest, a short, rotund man in a crumpled suit with thinning sandy hair. 'Fancy a nightcap up in my room sweetheart?' He added, pointing to a wine bottle he was holding.

'Yeah, c'mon princess we know you're up for it. Barefoot and no knickers just the way we like 'em,' said another of the men. He was probably the youngest of the three, early forties I would guess, He was a stereotypical car salesman type, wearing a flashy grey suit and an open-necked black shirt, revealing a hairy chest. He was clearly full of himself but without justification as far as I could see. He had heavily gelled dark hair that was swept back over his head, leaving a receding hairline and his pudgy face was flushed red, probably through too much alcohol.

'And she's wearing a slut-wife ankle bracelet too,' said the third man. He was tall, bespectacled and thin, with cropped grey hair, and a wisp of a moustache. He was the most respectable looking of the three, being neatly dressed in a conservative suit and striped tie.

I should, of course, have responded forcefully to their lewd comments and made a swift exit but I was struck dumb and stood rooted to the spot, my bag and shoes clutched tightly to my chest. The men were staring at me intently with looks of sheer lust on their faces. I realised with horror that this effect I had on them was turning me on and, as if to confirm this, I felt my nipples hardening beneath my skimpy dress.

The first man took a few steps towards me and I instinctively backed away from him. 'Don't go all coy on us now sweetheart. We all saw what a little tart you were earlier so don't play games.' He came a little closer and held out the bottle he was holding. 'Here, get some of this down you. It might loosen you up.'

I was still upset after my conversation with Michael but I felt other conflicting emotions as my body responded to the lustful stares of the men. At that moment in time I could think of nothing better than to have a large slug of wine to calm me down. And, shamefully, I wanted to see how the men would react to my apparent compliance. It felt so naughty and irresponsible but I was just loving the feeling of empowerment I had over these three drooling older men. They were lusting after me and that made me as horny as hell.

I smiled shyly, fluttered my eyelashes and gave them my best 'innocent girl' look. Emboldened, the man with the wine edged closer until he was inches away. I remained totally immobile, my tummy turning somersaults. Suddenly he reached out behind my head and grabbed a handful of my hair, making me squeal. He pulled until my head was tilted backwards and with his other hand pressed the bottle between my lips.

I dropped my shoes and bag and clung on to the bottle as the cool red liquid gushed down my throat, causing me to splutter and cough. As I did so, the wine splattered down my chin and neck and onto my dress.

'That's right love, take it all down,' I heard the man say as I gasped for air, 'it'll make you nice and relaxed. Then maybe you can show us those sweet little titties. Why don't you give us a little show eh? What do you say?'

'They're straining to get out Bill. Just look at those nips poking through,' said 'hairy chest' man, addressing the man who had approached me. I followed his gaze downwards. My nipples had indeed become hard and erect. So much so, that they were actually aching as they protruded through the thin material of my dress. I automatically crossed my arms over my chest in embarrassment which caused instant merriment at my predicament from the three men.

The man named Bill took a step forward and reached round behind my neck and instantly found the tie fastening of my dress which he tugged forcefully. I was in a daze and made no attempt to stop him. My arms were still pressed against my chest which prevented the halter neck from dropping and revealing my breasts.

'Take your arms away love, there's a good girl,' he ordered calmly. 'Here, give me your hand,' he added, extending his outstretched arm towards me slowly, his hand palm upwards.

'No...I mustn't...' I bleated half-heartedly. Bill chuckled. 'No I mustn't,' he mimicked my rather weak, pathetic voice, making the other men laugh.

Still holding out his hand, Bill's tone suddenly became more forceful. 'Your hand...now!'

At that moment I felt so turned on by the situation I found myself in that I found myself slowly reaching out my hand, at once revealing my right breast. There was an audible gasp from the men as Bill clasped my hand.

'Now your other hand love,' said Bill, who was clearly the ringleader of the three men.

I felt exposed and vulnerable but this only had the effect of making me even more horny. I just loved the effect I was having on these older men which I could see on the predatory looks on their faces. I could feel the inevitable lubrication building between my legs as my body responded in its natural way to my growing arousal. I was mesmerised and unable to stop myself giving a show to the men, my phone conversation with Michael completely forgotten.

Slowly my fingers relaxed their grip and, as instructed, I reached out my other hand for Bill to grip. As I did so, my other breast popped out from its hiding place. I cast my eyes down and realised I was now virtually naked apart from a narrow belt of dress material covering my upper thighs up to just below my navel.

Bill needed no further encouragement. Painfully gripping my wrists he pulled me towards him. My bare chest squashed against him as he released my hands and encircled my waist in a bear-like embrace. To my shame, I offered no resistance as his lips crushed mine, and I found myself opening my mouth and accepting his probing tongue. His breath reeked of alcohol and tobacco which I would normally find repellent but at that moment I didn't care and, if anything, it added to the dirtiness of the situation which turned me on even more.

I winced as the back of my right thigh was gripped firmly and then wrenched upwards leaving my leg dangling in the air. I barely managed to stay upright as I stood on tiptoe on my left leg. Bill's free hand then began exploring my exposed genital area, his fingers sliding up and down my well-lubricated labia. Pleasurable sensations washed through me and I gasped audibly, making his friends snigger.

My raised leg waved around like a rag doll's as Bill's fingers fucked me. The little bells on my anklet tinkled away sweetly with the movement, while my toes curled and uncurled in tempo with Bill's thrusting hand.

No doubt due to the sexual tension that had built during the day, my orgasm, when it arrived, was both explosive and long-lasting. I screamed uncontrollably and in the throes of the waves of pleasure that struck me I wrapped both my legs around Bill's waist. With my hands clasped around his neck I clung on to him tightly as my climax slowly subsided. Bill struggled to stay upright as I wriggled and ground my hips into his body. He staggered backwards but the other two men prevented the two of us from collapsing on the floor.

I extricated myself and dropped to my knees, panting with exhaustion. I could sense the three men surrounding me and looked up. They stared down at me with a mixture of awe and lust on their faces and I began to feel a little frightened of what was in store for me next.

'Fucking hell, Bill, you must have magic fingers mate,' said the tall, bespectacled man crudely. 'And she's creamed on you, the dirty little slut,' he added, pointing at a wet patch on the front of Bill's shirt, where my sopping pussy had ground into his belly.

As the men were laughing at these remarks, I suddenly became aware of movement behind us. Then, almost immediately, a loud female voice reverberated around the stairwell.

'Lucy! What's going on here? Are you OK?' I turned my head and saw the imposing figure of Sandy standing a few feet from us, hands on hips and a perplexed look on her face. Understandably so, as I must have presented a strange sight to her; on my knees wearing nothing but a tiny dress bunched up around my waist, surrounded by a group of ageing men.

'She just came like a train on my fingers, darlin', and loved it. So there's nothing to worry about here,' said Bill, laughing.

'Is that true Lucy?'

I looked down at the floor, embarrassed. 'Yes,' I mumbled

I suddenly felt a huge sense of disloyalty towards Sandy and her friends, especially Ted, who had befriended me and had been such good company that evening. I got to my feet and ran across to her.

'I'm so sorry, Sandy, I...well...I...,' I struggled to find the words to explain myself.

'Look, there's no need to apologise sweetheart. You're a grown up girl now. You can stay with these boys if that's what you want to do. It's a free country.'

'That's right darlin', do as your mum suggests and stay with us. You can stay too, mum, we don't mind,' said bespectacled man and the others sniggered their approval at his suggestion.

I was in a state of confusion. I must admit that part of me wanted to stay on that stairwell with the three older men and perhaps taken to one of their rooms. Disgusted with myself, I burst into tears again and clung tightly to Sandy, my arms wrapped tightly around her waist and my head buried against her shoulder. I thought again about my loving husband and what he would think of me and what he might do when he found out the truth about me; that his pretty little schoolteacher wife was in reality an unfaithful little slut. Feeling thoroughly sorry for myself I sobbed even more.

'Come on Lucy sweetheart, come with me. The others will be wondering where you've got to. We'll get you tidied up and maybe you might feel in a party mood again. What do you say?'

'Stay with us girlie, you know you want to. My friends here haven't had their turn yet!' exclaimed Bill. Without waiting for me to reply Sandy gripped my hand and forcefully pulled me away from the men, to their obvious consternation and vocal protestations. I had to stop myself from stumbling as I was led away and I just about had enough time to bend down and retrieve my discarded shoes and bag before I was ushered out of the door and back into the hotel corridor.

I could barely keep pace with Sandy as she marched me back to Ted's room and I hurriedly pulled at the two ends of my scrunched up dress with my free hand to cover myself again. From her demeanour I got the impression that Sandy was a little bit cross with me or at least disappointed.

'I'm so sorry Sandy,' I whimpered, 'I'll make it up to you I promise. Please don't be cross with me.'

'I'm not cross with you sweetie, just a bit shocked that's all. You looked like you'd been crying so I thought you needed rescuing. Seems I misread things.' I explained that I had been crying as a result of my phone call with Michael and my tears were nothing to do with my encounter with the three men.

With a genuine look of concern on her face, Sandy stopped and, holding both my hands in hers, she looked me in the eye and spoke gently to me. 'Look, Lucy, you are a gorgeous little thing and, much as I would like you to come with me back to Ted's room, you are clearly upset. I'm not sure you're in the right frame of mind for what our charming host has in mind. He's a bit of a dirty old dog, as I think you've probably gathered.'

I was certainly still upset about my strained conversation with Michael and I was now worried about what I would say to him tomorrow. In my distraught state I had dropped a bombshell and blurted out that I had 'done things.' He was bound to be milling this over in his mind and will ask me to elaborate on what I meant. However, my encounter with the three men on the stairwell had left me hornier than ever and I couldn't help thinking again about Ted at the swimming pool earlier in the day and the lewd sight of his engorged cock head poking above his swimming trunks as he spoke to me. Ugly and menacing, it reminded me of Uncle Ron's cock and I knew how that made me feel when it was inside me. Once more I capitulated to my base feelings.

'No, I'll be all right Sandy. I'll come back with you,' I replied.

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, I'm sure. You have all been very nice to me today and I've enjoyed myself. I feel I owe you something.'

Sandy's face lit up. 'That's my girl! Wow, you are a wild little thing. I wish I had your energy. I know Ted would've been very disappointed if you didn't go back. He's been like the cat who got the cream all day! You've also given my Colin a new lease of life, you bad, bad girl.'

'I'm not very presentable, though, just look at me.' I looked down with dismay at my creased, wine-stained dress. Worse still, I could feel my hair was in a mess, and that my eyes were red and makeup smudged from crying. My recently fingered pussy felt oozy and squidgy and there was dry crusted pussy juice on my inner thighs where I had gushed before and during my orgasm. And the soles of my feet were dirty from walking around barefoot.

'Don't worry sweetheart. You can get cleaned up in the room. Not sure we can do much about your dress though,' replied Sandy.

'You won't tell Ted or the others about what you saw just now, will you? Please!' I looked worryingly across at Sandy.

'Don't worry sweetie. Your naughty little secret is safe with me,' she replied, laughing.