Zorro Rides Again

I grew up in a South Yorkshire mining village, which since the strikes and pit closures of the 1980s, has, like so many similar towns and villages, become an economic and social wasteland. I'm one of the fortunate few, who courtesy of a few extra brain cells, some hard work and perhaps most importantly, a lot of family support, managed to escape.

While the mining industry was imploding, I was attending the local grammar school and later university; how did my parents manage to afford to help fund me? Having left college with a degree in geology -- what else for a coal miner's son? - I went into the oil industry and have since lived and worked all over the world; save for family visits and events, I've never been back 'home' since.

That's what saw me there last weekend; it was my brother's twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. He's only forty-four now and his wife Gill forty-one; yet one more area in which my life has diverged: Pregnant, married and living on social-security payments while still only teenagers is far from unusual in the village, though credit to Mark and Gill, still being together after twenty five years certainly is.

I'm married myself now, but have only been so for the last six years; I tied the knot at thirty-seven, to the beautiful Jaya, a girl some twelve years younger than myself. Jaya hadn't come with me at the weekend, as we didn't feel it was a suitable event for our pre-school kids to attend and so Jaya needed to stay home to look after them; well, that was our excuse and we're sticking to it.

My parents try really hard and their being my parents along with at least 'trying' helps Jaya to be a little more tolerant to their difficulties and so prepared to visit their home; but outside of that... Jaya's home town and heritage are both in Tamil Nadu, southern India; my having a 'Paki' wife and 'half-breed' children are one more divergence from the village-norm.

I was staying with my parents, having driven up from London on Saturday morning in Jaya's car; The car choice had been Jaya's idea and a good one: My arriving in Jaya's three year old BMW would have the natives branding me a 'flash bastard' anyway, but it would ruffle fewer feathers than my S-Class Mercedes, or perhaps even worse, my Sunday-Car, the Porsche 911 Targa 4.

The party itself was held in the nearby Miner's Social and Welfare Club; it has long ago been re-branded the 'Community Hub', but the locals still and probably forever talk of going down 'The Club' or 'The Social'. The bar's only open for parties such as Mark & Gill's nowadays, but otherwise it seems unchanged over my lifetime... scarily so.

I got myself included in a group containing most of the regular faces from my teenage years. Like myself, a few had got themselves away and were just back for the party, but a lot of them still seemed to live in or around the village. It was fun, or interesting at least, to reminisce about long gone days, but I'd little in common with any of them now and was assiduous in playing down my own success.

In the course of the conversation someone brought up the subject of our most abiding memories of nights spent down the Social from back in the day. Mine was easy: It was the week after I'd finished my final university exams, so a few weeks earlier and it could've been life-changing; it was bad enough anyway and resulted in my having to delay starting my new job by two months.

Following a 'friendly' cricket match, played against a team from the next village everyone was in the club boozing when a fight broke out. It was nothing to do with me, but the instigator - who was behaving like an arsehole! - was my mate Gary. I stepped in to avoid him getting battered at which point, Gary legged it, leaving me to take the kicking in his stead.

I suffered a broken nose, a fractured cheek bone and six broken ribs for my trouble that night, so I'm not likely to forget it. I didn't mention any names but judging by the expression on Gary's wife's face, she and no doubt some of the others too, remembered exactly who was to blame for that incident.

A while later Gary's wife Molly related a recollection from 'back in the day'; this one coming from a year or two earlier. Gary and I would have been nineteen and Molly a year younger. I was away at Uni, but happened to be back for that weekend, Gary meanwhile was away in prison; Gary was and remains a pretty inept criminal, which explained why he wasn't with us this evening either.

It's probably easiest if I simply repeat Molly's anecdote as best as I remember it:

"What I remember best was the night I lost my virginity, that was here in the Social... well, outside in the car park anyway. It was during the Halloween fancy dress party in 1999, I went dressed as Geri Halliwell from the Spice Girls; Ginger-Spice, you must all remember her."

I certainly did, I also recalled how well Molly had recreated Ginger-Spice's image that night; in red, high-heeled ankle boots and that super-short Union Jack dress. I remembered how Molly had perhaps suited that dress even better than Geri Halliwell herself had done and I couldn't stop myself from contemplating how much better still Molly would probably fill it today.

"I'd begun dating Gary in August that year, but he'd got banged-up in Lindholme Prison only the week after and he didn't get out again until Christmas; so I was there on my own. It was a helluva party, I got a shed-load to drink down and was fighting the lads off all night; they were all wanting to fuck me in that dress, but I was keeping myself pure for Gaz."

"It was late on, maybe half-eleven when I went out back for a cigarette and to cool off a bit. I was just leaning against the wall when this guy appears in a Zorro outfit; the whole kit and caboodle... hat, mask, he even had a sword. No idea who he was in real life... That film with Katherine Zeta-Whatsit and Antonio Banderas had only just come out, so there were four or five Zorros at the party that night."

"Anyway, this guy offers me a ciggie and has a spare Bacardi-Breezer in his hand too... I'm not going to refuse those am I and we chat a bit while we both cool off; it was blistering-hot inside. After a couple of minutes the bloke moves in on me... kissing, cuddling and giving my tits a squeeze; he even got one out and sucked my nipple, it wasn't difficult to get at them in that dress!

"I was happy enough with him doing that; he seemed good looking, smelt nice... and he'd bought me a drink and given me a cigarette. But then he dropped a hand downstairs and tried to slide it into my knickers, that wasn't hard in that dress either, but I weren't having none of it! I pushed him away, give 'im a slap and told him No!"

"Fair enough to have a snog and a grope of my tits, he had bought me a drink; but what was in my pants I was keeping for Gary so I told 'im to fuck right off! Next thing I know, the fella's whisked me off my feet, spun me round and dumped me onto the bonnet of a car; I tried to shout but he pinned my hands above my head with one hand and slapped the other over my mouth."

"We were nose to nose when the bloke snarled: 'Don't fuck me about you little prick-tease; make a sound and you'll be sorry': the look on his face was scary, so I nodded my understanding and stopped struggling The guy give me another meaty kiss, his tongue went halfway down my throat and that kept me quiet as his hand slid south for a second time."

"It stopped off at my tits for a few seconds to pull both of those out of my dress again; his mouth was taking turns on those by the time his hand was back between my legs. He wasn't rough, but he weren't messing about either; my skirt was half-way to my navel already, so the bloke just jerked my knickers to one side and grabbed my pussy."

"That made me gasp, but I gasped a lot louder a second later when he stuck two fingers straight into my cunt; I was dripping wet down there and they went deep... all the way in. That's when he laughed and told me I was a 'Slick little bitch but nice and tight' and that 'My cock's gonna split you wide open; you won't be so tight after that'."

"I heard his belt buckle rattling, then felt the end of his cock pushing against my pussy; I moaned a bit but only cos I was scared. He laughed again and let one of my hands go saying 'It sounds like you're an eager little whore, so why don't you put it in yourself... that way you'll get it just where you want it and we both know that you want it Molly."

"I did what he said... just to stay safe like; he was patient while I got it inside my pussy, but he then asked 'ready Moll?' and before I could reply or say owt, he slammed his cock into me like a bloody battering ram. I woulda screamed then but it knocked the breath outa me; it felt like he'd shoved a baseball bat into me and it jerked my bum clean off the car's bonnet."

"My arse landed with a bump, but by then his arse was going like a fiddler's elbow, banging that fat cock into me while calling me all sorts of names: 'Slut... Slapper... Dirty little scrubber.' I'd never heard the like! He only stopped slagging me off when I pulled his face down into my boobs... I only did that to shut him up, but then he started biting my tits and nipples which were almost as bad."

"He weren't shagging me for long... maybe three or four minutes, but it brought me off. I didn't want to come, but with that big cock going in and out, I just couldn't help it; he laughed when I did that too. It was after that when I shouted, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear: I'd remembered touching his cock; he wasn't wearing a rubber and I wasn't on the pill."

"When I said not to get me pregnant he laughed again, but after about three more strokes he did stop fucking me and pulled out. That's when he grabbed my arm and dragged me off the front of the car. I landed on my knees and before I'd gathered myself his hand was tangled in my hair; I knew straight away what he was after doing, but I couldn't stop him."

"I didn't struggle... I told myself it was better than getting pregnant; so I just opened my mouth and let him put his cock into it. He was even bigger than I'd thought and he went in deep, but he wasn't rough... He was a lot bigger than Gary, but he didn't choke me like Gary had; I'd sucked Gary off on our dates before he went to jail."

"Zorro didn't take long, maybe another minute or so, but when he came he did have me gagging and choking, I couldn't believe how much cum he pumped into me... it was like a bloody fire hose! I still managed to swallow it all though... I didn't want him messing up my dress or my make-up by getting cum all over me"

"Though that plan didn't work... when he pulled out the dirty bastard wiped his cock across my face; he smeared a big 'Z' in spunk across my forehead and over my face He was laughing about that too as he fastened his trousers, then he said 'Clean yourself up Molly and don't say owt to anybody... They're not going to believe a sleazy little nympho like you anyway."

"Then the bloke just turned away and disappeared into the darkness... just like a real Zorro would've. I put my boobs away, straightened my knickers and snuck back into the club; I went straight into the ladies room and managed to clean-up the worst before anyone else came in. And like Zorro told me, I haven't... until tonight, said owt to anybody"

Having finished her tale, Molly sat back in her chair and fell silent; indeed it must have been a minute or more before anyone in our group said a word. I spent the hiatus looking at the expressions on everyone's face and was surprised, though perhaps I shouldn't have been, by what I saw.

One of the women appeared... unsettled; I wouldn't go so far as to say upset, by Molly's anecdote. But the other three women and all five of the men, were clearly excited, probably even aroused by what they'd just heard. No doubt the men were fantasising about taking Zorro's place and the ladies perhaps of taking Molly's... or at the very least, of watching Molly's ravishment?

I was the one who broke the spell, getting to my feet and suggesting that after Molly's story we perhaps all needed another drink and offering to buy them. The bar was packed, though I didn't strain too hard to reach the front of the queue and it was a good ten or fifteen minutes before I got back with another tray-full of drinks; for everyone.

By the time that I returned, the conversation -- though perhaps not everyone's thoughts? - had moved on; somebody was recalling a wedding party that'd taken place after I'd moved away. I half listened to the tale, but for the most part over the following minutes, I was replaying Molly's tale in my mind as she an I exchanged occasional and subtle glances.

It was almost half an hour later when Molly announced that she wanted to dance and I wasn't surprised when Molly turned in my direction and invited me to join her on the dance-floor. Nobody chose to follow us, in fact no one else much was dancing at all; the live-band were on a break, so it was just a disco playing middle-of-the road standards and those fairly quietly... a chance for people to chat.

It certainly provided a discrete opportunity for Molly and I to do so and I was in no doubts about that having been the reason why Molly had invited me to join her.

"So what did you think of my story?"

"Very... erotic Moll; just a shame that it wasn't true."

"It could've been... that was your own fault."

"How so? I propositioned you out there Molly, you said 'No' and I walked away... End of story."

"But you didn't have to stop; you could've fucked me if you'd wanted to... maybe just like I described it"

"But you said 'No' and 'Stop' too for that matter; No-Means-No and all that."

"Fuck off. It might do nowadays, but it didn't back then; not around here anyway... Was that something else that they taught you down at that fancy college?"

"By the sound of things; very probably. No certainly meant No with the girls at Uni, but I heard plenty of 'Yesses' too... If you'd wanted me to do it, why didn't you just say so.?"

"It might've been yes, no and up my arse at your la-de-da college but not around here. It's all different nowadays; I hear my daughters talk and it sounds as if they just front up to any bloke they fancy, offer him a shag and nobody -- except me -- turns a hair; in my day we always said 'No'."

"And what... the guys just took a blind guess on whether it was a 'No-No' or a 'Yes-No'?"

"Don't be bloody stupid, it was all in the tone of voice. Sometimes it was a real 'No' but usually it was a 'Maybe next time, ask me again next week, sorta No' and just occasionally, like it was that night, it was a 'Yes but don't you dare tell anybody... especially my boyfriend, No' You were supposedly the smart-arsed college boy and you missed it completely,"

Shit! I couldn't stop that thought from repeating in my mind. Molly had been as fit as a butcher's dog. Hell, Molly still was, as well evidenced by the dress that she was wearing this evening: The neckline was cut damned near as low as that Union-jack number she'd been wearing all those years ago and nowadays Molly had a lot more inside it.

My reply was slow in arriving, but heartfelt and genuine: "I clearly hadn't been as smart as I thought I was and now I know... it's a mistake I'll regret for the rest of my life." I leant forward, gave Molly a friendly peck on the cheek and turned to leave. Discovering what I'd passed up that night had ruined this evening for me, it was time to go home.

I'd not completed my first step when Molly grabbed my wrist and jerked me back. "It doesn't have to be for the rest of your life, we can make it just the last twenty-four years. Bugger off and chat to some other people, then come and find me outside... you know where, at about half eleven and don't let anyone see ya going"

I was still allowing those words to sink in when without another word, Molly slapped my face and flounced away to re-join the rest of the gang at the table. They were all looking in my direction and laughing before I understood; Molly was still the clever, or at least street-smart one of us. That slap was her way of diverting anyone's thoughts about the two of us.

I moved around chatting to several groups for the next hour, the first conversation point with them all being that slap. Everyone assured me that Molly 'wasn't that sort of girl any more' and I in turn made it clear that it was just a misunderstanding but I'd learnt my lesson and would be steering clear of her for the remainder of the night.

I was back at the bar just after eleven-fifteen and included a couple of extra drinks -- Bacardi-Breezers -- into the round I was ordering. I left those on a side table and collected them again a few minutes later as I surreptitiously slipped out of the door and made my way around to the back of the Social to find Molly leaning against the wall.

I handed Molly a Breezer along with a grin, but after a single sip she set it on the floor and announced; "No time for niceties; I need to be back inside in twenty minutes and I don't want you going back in at all. So what is it you want?"

I nodded my understanding, then leant in close, kissed Molly on the lips and whispered "I want to fuck you Molly... just like I always have."

It was Molly's turn to grin. A moment later that grin disappeared as Molly pushed me away, gave me my second slap of the night and snarled "No way! I'm a married woman, not some little scrubber looking to get screwed up against a wall."

Once again, Molly's 'No!' sounded pretty definite to me, but tonight I wasn't listening; or perhaps I was hearing properly? Jerking Molly away from the wall I pushed her face down across the bonnet of the adjacent car, growling "fair enough, I'll fuck you on here instead...".

Molly squealed -- though not too loudly -- and squirmed as I pinned her down with a hand between her shoulder blades. Molly's story was whirling in my mind as I added: "...Don't fuck me about you little prick-tease, you're getting fucked. Make another sound and you'll be sorry". My other hand had dropped to the hem line of Molly's dress.

While tonight's dress was far longer than the Union-Jack one in '99, it still barely reached Molly's knees, Molly had always had great legs and she clearly still liked to show them off. While Molly's dress sense may have become a little more retrained over the intervening years, I soon discovered that the lady herself was unchanged.

Sliding my hand up beneath Molly's dress it arrived at her crotch to find her sopping wet; perhaps not too surprising; but her panties... Or at least their absence certainly was. That drew a gasp of surprise from me and what I suspect was a well concealed burst of laughter from Molly ahead of her growled "See, I'm not teasing your prick."

I rammed two fingers deep into Molly's cunt, she was dripping wet and they went in easily and deep... all the way in. "Still slick and still tight Molly. It's been a long time coming, but I'm going to split you wide open."

I was unfastening my pants when Molly crooned "And about bloody time; do it hard... and talk dirty to me while you do it."

Those words reminded me of Molly's earlier story: I slipped inside Molly easily... she too was more than ready and an instant later slammed my cock into her as hard as I could... probably harder than I'd ever done with anyone. Molly bounced on the car's bonnet and landed with a thud, though not one that was loud enough to quell her wail of "Oh fuck yesssss... Again!"

I grasped Molly firmly by the hips and pounded my cock into her unresisting cunt like a man possessed, calling her all of the names I could recall her mentioning: "Slut... Slapper... Whore... Dirty little scrubber." Molly squealed 'yes' in reply to every one as she bounced, writhed and slid around, on the car's bonnet.