Three Gangbangs in One Night

But the loudspeaker had some distressing news. "Belton, next stop. Next stop is Belton Station," it announced. Shit! That was Sharon's stop.

"Hey that's..." she began when the lights went out and the train began a slow deceleration on the dark tracks.

"Aw Shit." exhaled Barnaby.

"Power's out!" yelled Collins.

"Duty calls lads," said Donna and burst into a flurry of redressing in the dim glow of the yellow emergency lighting. Collins, already mostly dressed redoubled his efforts to get his tunic fully buttoned up. Barnaby however began pumping a desperate fuck up into Sharon in an effort to get off before he had to run off for blackout passenger control.

"Leave it Mike," shouted Donna.

"I almost..."

"Leave. It."

Mike let his unsatisfied cock flop out of Sharon and lowered her to where her feet settled onto the floor. Sullenly, he grabbed his pants off the deck and pulled them on.

"Hurry," barked Donna.

"Christ, it's not like the passengers..."

A look from Donna shut him up.

"Hey what about me?" cried Sharon.

"We'll have to get back to you love," said Officer Donna Morris who leaned in and gave Sharon a full, open mouthed kiss. As she pulled back an obvious look of desire and respect passed between them. Then Donna turned to leave.

"But my station..." she began, but they ignored her as they burst out forward down the train while still pulling their clothes on. Left alone, Sharon could only growl "Shit!" with vivid emotion.

Tied to the ceiling, naked, in a dark room with the wild moan of the storm roaring outside, time seemed to dilate to the point where it had no meaning. Sharon's anxiety echoed around her brain as she wondered what the hell she'd done in life to deserve a birthday like this. It certainly didn't help when a hand holding the coldly glinting knife slowly reached around her and entered her field of vision.

"AGGGHHH!"

"Calm down," said a deep, quiet voice in her ear. "I'm setting you free."

The knife moved up and easily cut the plastic zip ties. Sharon let her hands drop and began massaging her sore and bruised wrists as she turned to look upon her rescuer. Her mouth dropped open when she was confronted with the grinning face of the middle aged Asian passenger she'd encountered earlier.

"Oh. Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome. Are you OK?" he asked. His voice was deep, steady and very Australian. She blushed at her unthinking stereotyping when she realised she had assumed he'd talk with a heavy East Asian accent.

"Yeah, I'm fine; just a little frustrated."

"Frustrated?"

"Yeah, I..." she had meant she was frustrated because her orgasm had once again eluded her but she didn't think she should share such a detail with her rescuer. "My station is the next one and I just want to get home."

"Yes. Me too. Perhaps we should make a break for it."

"Well, I don't know how far..."

"It is right up the bend in the track. I could see it before the lights all went out."

"Shit, then let's get the hell out of here," she agreed enthusiastically.

She pulled on her dress while her escape partner pulled out a key chain with a small LCD flashlight attached. He inspected the door for a few seconds before figuring out the manual opening mechanism and pulling it wide. He dropped down to the tracks and motioned for Sharon to climb down onto his back.

"You don't have to..."

"Please, I insist. But let's hurry."

As luck would have it the storm hit a lull as he began carrying her along the side of the dark train. Flashes of lightening still forked across the sky and the ground still trembled with the rolling rumble of thunder from far and near, but the clouds only spat occasional thick drops of cold rain. Soon they had left the train behind and Sharon could see the dark silhouette of the station looming up ahead.

"This is so kind of you," she said. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Phil."

"Oh."

"Why 'Oh'."

I was expecting something more Japanese.

"My parents were Korean," he panted as he carefully walked along the edge of the loose, slippery railroad ballast. "Please don't call me a..."

And that's when Phil slipped.

As Sharon pulled herself out of the muddy puddle she was laughing hysterically. The frustrations of the day seemed suddenly hilarious and she was anticipating Marcus' deep chuckling laugh when she confessed her transgressions and told him the story of her insane night in a way that was guaranteed to get him going. She held up her hands which were now smeared with a black looking mixture of mud and railroad grease and gingerly brushed her filthy hair out of her face.

"I'm very sorry," said Phil as he held up his broken glasses to inspect their damage in the erratic flashes of lightning. With a shrug he tossed them onto the tracks.

"It's OK. This has been a fucked up day Phil. It was practically a certainty that I'd fall in the mud at some point. And at least my bag missed the puddle."

"Well let's continue shall we."

"Let's shall. I can walk the rest of the way."

As she said this it started raining again. The station disappeared in a torrent of falling water and was only dimly visible as they scampered up onto the platform and dashed under the shelter. The place was deserted and the town was black.

"It has been very interesting meeting you. Would you like to come back to my house for a drink? I have a generator, a large bathtub..."

"I'm sorry Phil, I just want to get home now. I'm actually married. But give me your number; we'll have you over sometime. We're always open for new friends," she said with a wink.

"Ah," said Phil, his voice registering disappointment. "Yes, I see."

"Wait, you've been so kind and, well, chivalrous. Maybe we can finish what we started earlier."

A flash of lightening lit up the wide smile on his face. He leaned in and embraced her.

They fucked in the dark, open shelter at the edge of the station. Rain was whipped in on the storms erratic winds as she bent over with her hands against a supporting I-beam and he took her from behind. He wasn't a great lover, but she was pleased to please him with a quick and dirty shag. He was, after all, her rescuer. It was the least she could do. She was sure Marcus would understand; at least, she hoped he would.

Phil came with a gasp and sagged back as she stood to adjust her filthy dress. Then, as if by magic, the lights blinked back on and the town flashed back into existence. They both looked down the track as the train started moving towards them.

"We'd better get going," said Sharon.

Phil tucked himself back into his pants and quickly zipped up, not noticing his shirt poking through his fly.

"Phil," Sharon nodded down, "You're leaving a flag out."

"Fuck, that's a give away."

The train was slowly rolling into the station as Phil and Sharon turned their backs to the rolling stock and headed down the platform towards the stairs. Sharon was looking for the guards as the windows flashed by, but they were nowhere to be seen. The wind had slowed to a mild gale and the rain to a pissant sprinkle when they exited the station and made their way to the near empty car park.

Phil stopped walking as they reached a group of cars parked under a swaying gum tree.

"Thank you, um, what is your name?" he said.

"Sharon," she said as she brushed her black, dank, oily hair out of her eyes.

"I appreciate what happened before," he looked down at his feet, "My wife and I no longer have sex and that..."

His awkwardness was quickly stopped by Sharon who really didn't want to begin a counselling session.

"Look Phil," she said as she quickly fossicked through her bag for a business card. "I think you are a real gentleman and despite my behaviour I like to be treated with respect." She handed him a card. "You can call me during the week and we'll get together, at my home, with my husband, and we'll discuss your." he was still looking at his feet, "Well, your performance."

Phil looked up and although Sharon couldn't really see his face clearly, she could tell by his voice he was smiling.

"Thank you Sharon. Thank you very much."

"Ok I'll cop you later," Sharon said as she turned away from Phil and headed towards her red Alfa.

As she held her keys in her hand and tentatively pressed the unlock key, she was adamant that if this dodgy piece of Italian engineering was going to chuck a shit fit and not start, it would be burnt where it stood.

Lucky for it and for Sharon, all three lights that actually worked briefly indicated its living status, and with a sense of pure relief she pulled open the door and threw herself into the leather confines of her car.

She immediately snapped the cabin lights back on and flicked down the vanity mirror.

"Holy fucking duck shit," she said to herself as she tried to wipe the black sooty mud that she and Phil had landed in off her face.

The cream white leather upholstery was not liking the filth, but Sharon had no option but to bring the engine to life and worry about the clean up another day. Her legs and arms were all covered in grey streaks of grime and silt and she noticed for the first time, a five centimetre tear in her dress.

"Oh for fuck's sake." she laughed and shook her head, "what else is going to happen tonight?"

Once again she was relieved when the engine cranked into life and the sweet tone of the engine purred into the cabin.

She followed Phil in his Holden Astra out onto the main drag and was relieved to see him turn left and cruise away into the drizzle. For a moment she worried about how a he could see without his glasses, but like most moments it was transitory and her attention went back to another matter.

'He won't call,' she said quietly to herself.

In this weather she estimated that within five minutes she would be home to Marcus and she was looking forward to telling him all about her exploits. She knew he'd enjoy them, surely he would, wouldn't he?

The doubt mixed with the disappointment of seeing an empty driveway but as she pulled onto the pressed concrete, and noticing that the lights in the garage were off, she knew that she would have the time to explain all.

The neighbour's dogs announced her arrival with a sharp and decisive array of canine expletives that were met with a few human expletives from Sharon.

Her hands were shaking, something they weren't doing in the car, as she fumbled with the lock and opened the door. Finally she was home in the hands of the man she loved. Marcus was standing at the stop of the stairs putting the finishing touches to a text message.

He was a man whose expression changed from a wide smile to a look of concern.

"What the fuck?" he said as she ran up the stairs towards him.

"You look like you've been dragged through a war zone!"

The first thing she did after embracing him was to cry. The intense emotional occurrences over the past few hours had left her dazed and confused. Should she start the story at the pub or work backwards? Maybe she should let him ask the questions, or maybe just say nothing.

"What's with all this black shit all over you?" Marcus said as he held her back at arms length.

She managed to smile as the image of her and Phil stumbling over the large chunks of gravel and tumbling sideways into the puddle came back to her.

"The train had to stop for some reason just before the station and this lovely man gave me a lift on his back," she subconsciously straightened her dress as the rendezvous with Phil played back. "But he slipped on the tracks and we fell into his bloody puddle."

"Why would a bloke do that?" Marcus asked.

"Umm," Sharon smiled up at Marcus whose face was hard to read. "Well he did get rewarded."

Marcus's expression turned from wonder to enlightenment as he realized what she had said. Sharon had broken their Golden Rule.

"Bloody hell Sharon, why didn't you just stay on the train and call me?" he walked back up a few steps and left her lingering down below.

"I'm..." he shook his head in disbelief. "I know you were looking forward to tonight but you didn't have to go picking up some stray fucker on the train." his tone was now bordering on the angry and it was at this point that Sharon decided to keep the nights events quiet, for now anyway.

"I've got you a present and the lads got you something as well, so," he scratched his head and smiled down at her, "we'll talk about it later, but go up and have a shower, grab a drink and check out the gifts. I'll be down in the garage fixing that bloody amp."

He hopped back down the steps towards her and grabbed her on the waist. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down towards her. Their tongues met before their lips did and they kissed passionately before Marcus slid his hands down her back, and feeling that she wasn't wearing any underpants, lifted her dress.

"I'm sure he was suitably rewarded," he said to her in an ambiguous tone. She really wasn't sure if he was angry or not.

She flicked her hair back and smiled up at him. "I'll go and clean up," she said not fully realizing that that statement could be taken any number of ways.

"Pop back down into the garage when you're finished," Marcus smacked her on the arse as she seductively wiggled it up the stairs. "I really do have to fix this amp."

Sharon just tilted her head back and smiled at Marcus wondering just how she was going to play this out.

"Oh," Marcus called out from behind the garage door, "Don't open your presents until after your shower," he popped his head back around the door, "You wouldn't want to get them dirty."

Sharon caught a glimpse of a smile from Marcus as he turned back into the garage. Bastard, she thought, One minute he's cranky, the next there's a hint of a smile.

She gathered her bags and spun up into the main part of the house. On entering the kitchen the smell of takeaway pizza filled the air and the empty boxes filled the island bench.

The two parcels sat sadly on the dining table next to the lads' empty beer bottles. One package was flat and long, the other was square and light. She wanted to open them there and then but considering all that had happened that night, she didn't dare go against his request to wait until after her shower.

The yellowish glow from the globe above the mirror in their bathroom cast a triangle of light across the floor of the bedroom to the point at where she was standing. The two parcels were tossed onto the end of the bed as she quickly headed into the polished marble surrounds of their ensuite.

When she finally saw her full reflection in the mirror she knew why Marcus was so concerned.

She certainly did look like shit. Her hair was matted and straggly, her face was splattered with the grit and grime of the puddle and her dress was stained and torn. But underneath the filthy exterior, she felt fantastic.

The pipes in the wall clicked and groaned as the hot water began to flow down and out of the shower rose. When the water began to steam, she pulled her tattered and dirty dress off over her head. For a moment she toyed with the idea of washing the dress and patching the tear, but instead she tossed the foul rag into the corner and checked herself out in the full length mirror.

She took in her naked form with an interest that she had never previously displayed. She wasn't admiring her slender torso and magnificent boobs, she was looking for marks, evidence of her encounters.

"Bugger," she said to her reflection as she noticed all the bite marks, scratches and grazes upon her torso. She looked like she'd run naked through a blackberry patch, not someone who'd just been fucked by...she stopped to count how many, but she was confused as to what exactly happened on the train. Regardless of the count she did know one thing, she was still horny.

The hot water opened her pores and sent little shards of pain into the countless wounds on her delicate soft skin. She felt like the water was washing away the sins of the world and she recalled the nuns at primary school reciting the Agnus Dei.

When she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, the mounds of foam trickled down her back and into the crack in her backside where they gathered before continuing down her legs. The peaks of grey water eddied and swirled down the drain. Sharon paid particular attention to her pussy and kept washing it although it was a hell of a lot cleaner than it had been five minutes ago. She wished now she'd gone into the main bathroom where they had a detachable shower head and she could have given herself a thorough clean.

The moisturiser she applied after the shower hoped to settle some of the glowing red patches and her skin was beginning to feel new and rejuvenated. The crisp toweling dressing gown covered her shining form and the red towel wrapped around her hair kept her long, black, curly hair neatly tied and drying on her head.

The two gifts lay side by side on the bed and now she was ready to open them. The first was the square parcel with the large card attached. She knew by the writing that it wasn't from Marcus and had to be from the band. She could also tell that there was no way it had been wrapped by a man. It was far too elegant. The first thing she saw when she opened the paper was the distinctive Victoria's Secret logo on the box. Her heart began to race as she lifted the lid and saw what was inside. The black lace, halter neck babydoll nightie, with matching knickers was divine. She held the flimsy nightie up and immediately held it up against herself to check the size. The dressing gown was quickly removed when its thickness denied an accurate measurement. She flung the towel around her hair across the room before she pulled the light material down over her body. It was a perfect fit.

She checked herself out in the mirror and was impressed with how good it looked. These guys knew her well. When she grabbed the card she realized that it felt a lot thicker than normal. On opening the card she discovered why. She recognised herself on the front cover but for a moment she tried to remember when Marcus had taken the image, it wasn't one that she'd seen before. As she gazed down at her cum splattered face on the card, the realisation of what was happening smashed into her like a tsunami. She sat down on the bed and quickly flicked through the remaining images. The composite of images included some from that evening's activities in the pub and some of her taken during a few of their other encounters. On the front was a smiling Sharon with cum dribbling down off her chin and the words 'Happy Birthday' added across the dirty pub carpet at the bottom.

That bastard, Sharon thought, how the hell did he get a hold of these?

She hit the rewind button in her mind and recalled how Marcus had asked her what the pub was called and had urged her to 'see if she could get pick up'. She remembered them laughing at the images on the phone and taking the pics of her when they'd finished with her.

He was controlling this whole thing. Sharon was both relieved and disappointed. Relieved that Marcus knew about it but disappointed that had he been there, maybe the night would have ended with at least a decent orgasm.

Inside were more pics of Sharon being fucked by various men in a number of different positions. In the centre they'd written 'Looking forward to adding a few more memories tonight, happy birthday from all of us.'

Damn, she thought, I guess I missed out on that one.

When she threw the card down she saw the final image. There she was sitting on the train with the left shoulder of a transit cop slightly obscuring her legs, an image taken only an hour or so earlier.

She tidied her damp, long black curly hair a bit before opening the second box. The wrapping this time was obviously done by Marcus. She could tell by the torn edges. The box inside however immediately caught her attention. A long jewelery box is difficult to confuse with anything else. The Japanese script on the front of the box made her recall the quickie with Phil and 'Turning Japanese' was still on the high repeat playlist in her brain.