ovel in my spare time over the past year. ReI am looking for feedback as to the following:

Ø       Do the characters grab you?

Ø       Do you care what happens to the characters?

Ø       Does this story grab you?

Ø       Now that you have read the first chapter, do you want to read more?

Ø       Do you think this piece needs to be thrown in the trash heap and burned?

Ø       Other suggestions are welcome

I thank those of you who take the time to provide constructive feedback with details. If you just tell me is sucks or you hate it, this doesn’t provide any meaningful feedback to me.

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Secrets in the Dark

With eyes closed, she sensed the bump before it came, air in the cabin motionless, devoid of sound. Then her head bounced slightly on the sill of the window overlooking the wing.

“Sorry for the bump folks,” a gravely voice broke the silence overhead.

Maureen lifted her head slightly as she brushed her long dark hair from her eyes, returning her thin hands to her lap, sitting quiet and sullen listening to the muffled roar of jet engines. Having been on the run for more than ten hours, still, she did not feel free. She wanted so badly to get some rest, but was afraid to close her eyes for fear she would wake to find this all a dream.

Staring out the window of British Airways Flight 812, she watched as the safety light on the tip of the wing slowly blinked into view from behind a bank of clouds. As the plane cut through the overcast scene spread out before her on flat fields of green, the first drops of another rainy English morning beat against fuselage, dripping down the window pane beside her seat. Closing her eyes, she thought of the house of horrors she had just escaped.

Three years earlier, she had been lying awake in bed, stomach cramps searing through her thin body, threadbare blanket pulled tightly to her chin. Down the hall she could hear water pouring from the showerhead in the bathroom. Her father had arrived home from work. When the water stopped, her nightly hell would begin.

Crawling from her bed, her thin naked body shuddered as she grabbed her tattered robe wrapping herself. Opening her bedroom door, she stared down the hall, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight streaming in from the alcove which led to the living room.

On bare feet, silently she crept, stirring dust bunnies on the hard wood floor of the hallway. Reaching the end, thin fingers encircled the cold knob of a small thin door. Slowly she pulled it open hoping the squeak of hinges would not betray her. Pulling the heavy door closed behind her, she turned and began to descend the old wooden stairs, inky black darkness swallowing her.

Stepping off the last plank laden with slivers, Maureen felt her toes instinctively curl the sensation of cold dirt and pieces of jagged scattered gravel cutting into her tender feet. Clenching her teeth, she groped in the darkness, searching for her secret place. Huddling between the chimney and the cold foundation of the house, she closed her eyes and shivered, wrapping her arms around chest. She was in no mood to deal with his accusatory tirades, justification for the pain he wrought. Sitting in the suffocating darkness, the basement reminded her more of a tomb than a storage area. Suddenly, a single bulb dangling from bare wires pierced the blackness, illuminating the dank dirty room. As the footsteps descended, she counted each creaky step, silently praying as she rolled herself in a tight ball pulling her robe ever tight. As she watched her father, she escaped detection, but discovered a secret, she knew none of her brothers or mothers were aware of.

e f e f f

James Gould looked at his watch, picked up a mug beside the pot and began to pour. Suddenly, he heard a hard thump against the back door. Startled, he looked up to view the security monitor, his hand shaking as he poured muddy brown coffee down the side of the ceramic cup scalding two fingers.

“Fuck,” he winced, quickly setting the coffee pot back on the small table in front of him, switching the cup to his empty hand, shaking burnt fingers in an attempt to cool the sting.

Gazing back at the monitor, he saw a tree branch, three feet in length leaning against the steal back door. The tree towering above the door bore a new wound, as wind whipped snowflakes circling the massive trunk.

Across the interior of the office, through a large bullet proof window overlooking the border crossing, Jim could see the outline of Noel Bennington. The new rookie was speaking with the occupants in a dark blue car.

Glancing at his watch again, Jim watched the second hand tick slowly.   Tonight, like so many other nights, an old scene played out in his minds eye. He smiled gingerly flexing his burnt fingers. It was payday, not his government issued penance but his ticket to freedom.

With broad shoulders, standing well over six feet tall, his hands resembled plump Easter hams. Jim Gould had established himself as a man with nerves of steel and a heart of gold amongst the people of his community. Well respected, he served on the local school board, taught soccer in the fall and ran Little League baseball in the summer.   There weren’t too many days that went by when the townspeople read a story in the local paper that reminded them of Jim’s one defining heroic deed, the moment that ingratiated Jim to them forever.

Two years earlier, Jim, tired of the traffic back east, transferred with his family to the small border crossing of Eastport in northern Idaho . It was while on duty his second week when he discovered 5 kilos of coke hidden inside of a tool chest in the back of a truck crossing at the border station.   Two young college kids from out of state had been promised enough money to pay for their tuition, plus as much weed as they wanted. Instead, they each received twenty year prison sentences. What the townspeople or none of Jim’s co-workers knew, was the bust had been a setup. A plan hatched by his contacts a shadowy group, whose members John couldn’t even identify.

Lifting the steaming coffee to his lips, his right hand shaking, Jim savored the nutty flavor. Lately he had noticed on his special payday, it was becoming much harder to calm his nerves. Just nine more months he thought to himself as he mentally counted his stash, just nine more months.

Turning, Jim began to walk back to his desk, drops of coffee spilling from the cup, lost in the cornucopia of melted snow and muddy boot prints on the once white linoleum floor. A sharp buzz pierced the silence of the room, cutting a jagged slice through Jim’s thoughts. Susan Branch and Frank King walked through the main door of the station ready to start their shift.

“Good I can get the hell out of here,” Jim muttered under his breath.  

“Hey Cap,” Frank smiled. “Slow night?”

“Yes,” Jim smiled, feeling nervous flip-flops mix with the coffee fueled heart burn rising in his stomach.

“Well the roads are six inches deep. Looks like George didn’t get out with the plow yet. He’s probably passed out in his cab.”

“Probably,” Jim chuckled, thinking about the one man in their county assigned to plow the roads. George was pretty reliable, but sometimes his priorities were as blurred as his vision while he plowed the snow covered roads. Jack Daniel’s or ensuring the safety of the citizens of tiny Eastport, sometimes George had a hard time making a choice.

“Jim, you want a beer,” Officer Bennington asked as they walked to their cars at the end of their shift.

“No thanks,” Jim grunted, “I need to get home.”  

“Wife sick again,” Noel asked, concern in his voice.

“Hmmm,” Jim answered barely audible

“See you tomorrow night than, hope she feels better.” Noel flashed a toothy smile, fishing his car keys from his pocket.

Jim sat waiting for the heater to warm the interior of his truck. Staring through the windshield, he watched as Noel’s taillights disappeared. The snow had stopped, but turned to sloppy slush under the wheels of his truck as he began to back out of his parking space. Pulling away from the border station, Jim glanced in his rearview mirror, watching the lights of the Canadian Border fade from view.

As he drove, Jim’s thoughts turned to Noel’s offer, and then to his wife. Gripping the steering wheel his knuckles began to turn white. God he hated her. And cursed the day he married back into the cycle. She reminded him of his alcoholic, drug addled mother. Having raised Jim on her own, his mother’s demons had gotten the best of her. In exchange for her daily fix she had offered his childhood up as currency for a rush. As he slowly rounded a snow slicked curve, Jim’s mind flashed back to a memory. He was ten again and Lenny, his mother’s dealer was holding him by the back of the head, greasy crotch, smothering Jims face

e f e f f

“On behalf of Captain Morgenstern, myself, and the crew welcome to Heathrow International Airport . We hope you have a pleasant stay and choose British Airways again for all your travel needs. The time is 6:30 am British Standard Time.”

Turning from the rain spattered window, the memory of the night she discovered the secret rushed from her mind as passengers stood and began to ransack the over head compartments. Reaching for an overnight bag tucked underneath her seat Maureen opened it taking inventory of the contents; passport, sunglasses, change of clothes, toiletries, and a small book with telephone and bank account numbers.

Disembarking behind a mother, with two small children, she wondered what life was like for them. Their mother was smiling as she herded them along, but Maureen wondered if it just her public mask? Slipping on dark sunglasses she felt stupid, but knew she had to be cautious. She was thousands of miles from home. But had she inadvertently left a clue? She couldn’t take that chance being so close to freedom.

Picking up a battered old suitcase from the baggage carousel, she removed her sunglasses. She did not see anyone she recognized and told herself she was just being stupid. As she approached customs, she began to tremble. Had she made the right decision to leave home? Would she be safe, living on her own in a foreign country?  

“Do you have anything to declare Miss Connelly?” the gray haired official asked, eyeing here directly.

“No sir,” Maureen smiled shyly. From this moment on, she needed to remember her old identity was now a thing of the past.

“And what brings you England ?”

“I am here visiting relatives for a few weeks.”

“And where do your relatives live miss?”

“ Devonshire ”, Maureen answered hoping her response sounded more matter of fact than a question.

“Have a pleasant stay,” the official smiled, stamping her passport, his teeth reminding her just how crooked her life had been up to this point.

“Thank you,” Maureen smiled, as she bent to pick up her suitcase. Walking away from the counter, a trail of cold sweat began to snake a slow trail down her back.

e f e f f

The sign for Crescent Lake loomed ahead, flashing green as the headlights of Jim’s truck cast an eerie glow across the white letters. Glancing into his rear-view mirror, Jim checked the road behind him making sure he didn’t have company this late at night. Shifting into four-wheel drive, he slowed to a crawl, spotting the small faded red flag hanging from the branch of a pine tree. Checking his rear view mirror a second time, he flipped the switch for the spot light hanging on the side of the passenger door. The old logging road framed on either side by steep banks and tall pines raising high into the dark night were covered with about a foot of snow. The bed of the road had always been solid in the past. Tonight there was nothing to indicate it would be any different. Turning onto the road, he began a slow, cautious drive.

Opening the glove box, Jim found a flashlight and climbed out of his truck. Reaching behind the seat he extracted a crowbar and gloves. As he began to walk into the cold black night, his breath puffed a white cloud into the freezing air. An owl hooted in the distance signaling his arrival.

The snow on the top of the stump had been cleared away. But if anyone was to come upon it, Jim doubted they would suspect anything. This was a popular winter snowmobiling spot for locals; a perfect place to hide something right under the nose of everyone who was more concerned with sipping from bottles of whisky while riding their machines full bore. Before he got to work, Jim trained his flashlight on the other side of the stump. One set of snowmobile tracks trailed off into the black night from the opposite direction he had entered the road.

Suddenly, Jim heard branches snapping off to his left. His heart flipped twice, leaping into his throat as he turned off the flashlight and hit the ground, eating a mouthful of cold snow. As the sounds began to get closer he froze. “I’m done this time,” he thought to himself, “they have finally caught me. Fuck me, I’m so close.”

As Jim lay in the cold snow, a large black shape stepped out of the trees, no more than ten feet from his position. Although it was a cloudy, the moon had managed to seep through a break in the clouds casting an eerie glow across the dark landscape.

The large black shape turned its head from side to side, a grunt escaping its mouth, snorting as it smelled the intruder. A few minutes passed as Jim watched the beast in silence paw at the snow. Without warning, the shape turned and walked away, down an embankment, heavy steps splashing water. Jim could hear his own breath, ragged, as he stared into the black night where the shape had disappeared. When all was quiet, he found his flashlight and aimed it on the spot where the dark shape had been. Elk tracks.  

Satisfied the animal was gone; Jim slowly rose to his feet. Setting the flashlight in the snow, he found the crowbar. Grasping the cold steel in his gloved hands, he shoved the curved end of the bar at the stump, metal against wood. A muted thud broke the silence of the black night.   Striking pay dirt he had found the notch in the stump. Working the bar into the tiny space, Jim pulled up with the bar, splitting the stump in two where it had been pre-cut. Picking up the flashlight, Jim trained the faint yellow light into the wooden hollow illuminating a canvas bag.

e f e f f

Walking through the duty free section, Maureen smiled for the first time in weeks. Although she was frightened, being alone in a foreign country, anything was better than one more day in that house. Approaching a cluster of ATM machines she heard a voice behind her.

“Excuse me miss.”

Maureen froze in her tracks, she was afraid to move. Closing her eyes, she felt her heart sink like a heavy stone into a bottomless lake. She knew her new found freedom was too good to be true. She had been caught.

Turning in the direction of the voice, the customs official who had stamped her passport was standing behind her.

“Miss, you might need this,” he smiled, handing her the overnight bag she had carried onto the plane.

“Thank you sir, it was a long flight, I must be tired.” Maureen smiled suddenly realizing that she had forgotten her carry on bag at the customs counter.  

“We all lose our minds sometimes,” he looking deep into her in the eyes as if he knew she was out of her element. “Do you need directions?”

“No, I just need to withdraw some money”, Maureen pointed to the bank of ATM machines.

“Have a good afternoon miss,” he winked turning away from her, walking towards a door marked employees only.

Stepping before one of the machines, Maureen opened the bag the office had returned to her. Retrieving her pocketbook, she opened it, removing a bank card.   As she waited for the machine to dispense money, she looked around. Over to her right, she saw a small lounge with a couple of small round tables and a few chairs. Removing the money from the tray, she wrapped it around the card and slid both back into her wallet. Grasping her suitcase and carry on bag, she walked towards the lounge to get her bearings. She did not see the man watching her.

e f e f f

Opening the door to the truck, Jim slid the crowbar back behind the seat. With a grunt, he squeezed his two hundred and fifty pound frame behind the steering wheel. Turning the key in the ignition, Jim pushed in the clutch and began to slowly back his truck down the dark road, his mind drifting to white sandy beaches, bikini clad woman and cold margaritas, a stark contrast to the weather outside. Soon he would be free from his job, nagging psychotic wife, and the children he never wanted in the first place. As he approached his house, the liberating thoughts quickly vanished. Pulling into the driveway, he noticed that all the lights in the house were off. He would be able to hide the bag without anyone questioning the contents.

Turning on his flashlight, Jim trained it at the bottom of the pit, the yellowish glow, dancing on top of the lid of an old wooden truck. Grasping the top of the ladder with one hand, and the canvas bag in the other, he began to descend into the dark hole. At the bottom, he stood before the trunk smiling; his own private treasure chest. Opening the lid of the trunk, the smell of money and stale dirt assaulted his senses, a smiling playing on his lips.   He felt like a man who had just won the lottery.

Reaching inside the canvas bag, Jim tore open the plastic package containing a mix of tens, twenties and Ben Franklin’s. Inside the trunk, laying the first stack on top of the old, he didn’t notice anything different about the trunk. It was when he laid the second bundle of bills down that his blood ran cold. In horror, he watched as false rows of money imploded, falling into a small pile at the bottom of the trunk.   Sticking out from the sides of the pile he saw pieces of cardboard. Frantically he dug through the small pile of money and cardboard.

“Where is all of my fucking money?” Jim spat through clinched teeth his face turning red. He knew at last count he had well over $50,000 stashed away in the trunk. Someone has found this hiding spot, and  

e f e f f

“Leader one, this is leader two I have a target in site,” the man in the dark suit spoke into his radio. “Will advise when I know more.”

While he returned the small phone to the inside pocket of his suit, he stubbed out a cigarette on the worn tile floor.   Turning his head back to the woman he watched as she packed s small bag into a larger suitcase.

Zipping her suitcase closed, Maureen began to walk towards an information booth she saw off in the distance down the terminal. The man followed behind her, looking inconspicuous, just another passenger lost in an endless sea of tourists; businessmen, woman and children.

“Excuse me,” Maureen smiled as she stopped in front of a counter, a sign reading Information Booth glowed over head. “Could you tell me where I may find this address?”

Handing a plump middle aged lady behind the counter a slip of paper, Maureen waited. The man in the suit waited as well, pretending to read the latest football scores, silently cursing Manchester United for losing the last match.

“Miss, you probably don’t want to take a taxi to this location,” the plump information lady smiled. “The fare would be way too dear. I would recommend you take the train here at the airport which connects to the tube.”

The lady in the information booth produced a train schedule, and began to circle station names and times as she read each to Maureen.   “Miss you need to go to Terminal Two. From Terminal Two, take the 8:00 am train to Piccadilly station. From “dilly” catch the 9:30 train to Paddington station. From Paddington, the Bayswater Inn is a short taxi ride away. Can I help you with anything else Miss?” The lady smiled, crows feet, showing at the corners of each of her hazel eyes.

 

“No, you have been a big help” Maureen smiled, “Thank you.”

As Maureen began to walk towards Terminal Two, the man in the suit followed, paper folded under his arm.

Waiting on the platform for the next train to arrive, Maureen watched the people come and go around her. She was frightened to be in this big place, a foreign country all alone. But what was the alternative. Her old life, the old house she grew up in. A place so cold and unforgiving, you could literally feel your soul dying inside.  

Trains came and went as Maureen sat on the bench waiting for the train to take her to Piccadilly Station. It had been a long flight and she was eager to get to the hotel where she would be lodging for the next month. She was lost in her thoughts taking in this new country around her when a train pulled into the station. She recognized the number on the side and realized that this was the train she needed to board. Picking up her suitcase, she climbed the stairs, and found a seat just inside the door. As the train began to pull out of Heathrow Airport , although she was afraid, a new sense of freedom began to swell inside her. Each click clack of the wheels on the track was one more additional step to freedom, pure freedom, where she could eventually sleep at night, and chase her own dreams and desires.

e f e f f

Storming out of the hole, with the agility of a superstar athlete, Jim took the stairs leading from the basement two steps at a time hauling his pot belly with him.   He doubted if his wife had taken the initiative to get off her fat ass to venture into the basement, but he had to make sure. Throwing open their bedroom door, he was greeted by snores and grunts reminiscent of a barnyard.  

“What, what?” his wife replied with a groggy waft of onions and tobacco as he shook her awake.  

“Have you been in the basement the last few weeks?” Jim questioned his wife, his eyes black as coal, filled with hate.  

“No Jim, you know I don’t go down there. Why what is wrong?”

“Oh nothing, fuck!” he shouted stomping out of their blissful marital chamber.

Jim Gould was a man on a mission. He knew someone in the house had taken his money, but whom? Opening the door to Brian’s room, he began to unbuckle his belt as he walked towards the bed. Brain lay on top of his covers wearing white brief’s his back and legs exposed.

“You little son of a bitch,” Jim shouted as he raised his arm high in the air, bringing the leather down with a sharp crack across his son’s back. “What in the fuck did you do with it?

“Dad,” Brain was wide awake with a jolt, his fifteen year old eyes as big as saucers. Curling into a ball to protect himself from the successive blows he was sure would come, he cried out to his father, “What you are talking about?”

“Don’t lie to me, damn it. You know damn well what I am talking about,” Jim bellowed as he swung the belt, leaving a welt on his son’s exposed calf.

“Dad,” Brain was crying now, “I swear I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Have you been in the basement within the past two weeks?”

“Yes, but just to get the clothes out of the dryer.”

“What else did you do down there?” Jim clinched his teeth hissing as he spoke.

  “Nothing,” Brian protested, his calf now displayed a red welt from the leather belt.  

Jim stood staring down at his son, eyes burning with rage. For a split second he thought about telling Brian what he was referring to in the basement but dismissed the thought. After all, he could start again and still use the tunnel for hiding if Brian in fact was telling the truth.

“Let’s go you little shit,” his dad said grabbing him by the arm hauling him up with one hand. “We are going to get to the bottom of this if it takes all night.”

Jim Gould gripped his oldest son behind the elbow. The skin turned white pinched between his meaty fingers as he marched Brian to out of his bedroom to another room a few feet down the hall.  

“Sit,” he said shoving Brain onto a bed in the room they had just entered.  

Underneath the cover’s, a small body stirred. Little Ricky did not see the hand as it descended upon him. Whipping back the covers, Jim grabbed him by the hair, pulling him into a sitting position on his bed.

“Rise and shine you little bastard,” Jim released his clutch on his youngest son’s hair, fists balled at his sides as he stood surveying his offspring.

Ricky looked at his father, white, as if a ghost had invaded his dreams. He wondered if he were having a nightmare.

“Now, one of you has been in the basement and one of you has taken something of mine. You two are going to sit here until I get some answers. No school, no breakfast, no bathroom breaks, nothing.

“Dad we don’t know what you are talking about,” they both looked at each other and then to him answering in unison.   Then Brian spoke up, “Have you asked Maureen? Maybe she took it. You know that she has to go into the basement to light the fire in the morning and wash the clothes.”

Without a word, Jim Gould reached out and slapped both of his son’s with a hard open hand. He had learned how to hit them and not leave any bruises. “For your sake, the two of you had better hope like hell that your sister is responsible for this. Because if she isn’t, the three of you will wish that you were dead.”

Leaving the room, like a ragging bull, Jim stormed down the hall, and stopped before a door at the end of the hall.

Standing before the closed door with flaking white paint, he could feel rage beginning to build inside.   Whether she knew where the money was or not, he knew what her punishment would be. She was responsible for her siblings and she would pay for their transgressions.

“Maureen,” Jim shouted as he opened the door.

Looking to her bed, he froze. It was empty, she wasn’t there. Walking to it, he sat, head in hands wondering where his money was, and wondering where his daughter was this late at night.   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ndrew did me five times, and that doesn't  count the other time that he came in my mouth."

 Emily was properly impressed. "The best Charles has done this week is to give it to me three times one day, and I had to spend a considerable amount of time sucking to keep him interested in this old body."

 The game the four would be playing was called "victim" and for starters that would be Andrew who had drawn the lowest card. The object of the game was to sexually exhaust the victim in a manner that would not be harmful.

 As Emily described it, "We want Andrew to think that if he cums one more time he will surely have a heart attack, then make him cum at eat twice more. We also want Andrew to totally lose all his sexual inhibitions. Before tonight is over he will suck my husband's cock and either swallow the cum or serve it to myself or Marsha."

 Andrew grimaced at this remark, but Marsha was secretly thrilled at the prospect of watching her handsome husband greedily sucking on Charles. "Do you need assistance in disrobing?" asked Emily, a gentle hint for Marsha to commit to the game. The two women quickly proceeded to strip off down to their underwear.

 "This should be sufficiently stimulating for round one," observed Emily, now wearing only  matching bikinis and bra and a contrasting garter belt that was more functional than erotic. Her large melons strained the half-cup bra revealing most of her breasts plus the outline of the fat nipples that poked out through the flimsy material. Andrew's cock began to harden as he stared at her voluptuous body. "How charming!" gushed Emily.

 It was a truly amazing night. Andrew came once before the ladies needed to remove their underwear. The youthful groom reacted strongly to the expert bout of sucking, kissing and licking that his long, stiff member received from his charming teasers. Emily took the lead, instructing his bride in some of the tricks she had learned. Charles screwed Marsha while she kissed Andrew and Emily sucked him off.

 Andrew sucked the cum from his wife's cunt as she lapped away on Emily's shaved pussy. Marsha and Emily teamed up to make Andrew cum for a second time, their mouths working on his throbbing cock until it spilled another load into Emily's mouth. She in turn kissed her husband and he swallowed the cum she transferred to his mouth.

 Emily and Marsha did a sixty-nine while Charles jerked Andrew off until he was hard enough for Emily to mount and ride to still another ejaculation, his third. Now Charles worked a bullet vibrator in and out of Andrew's asshole while Emily smeared his cock with an ointment that stimulated blood flow, making it easier for him to attain another erection. Marsha licked Andrew's nipples and groin as Emily pumped his hardening cock in her tight fist.

 At Emily's direction, the young wife settled her bottom onto Andrew's face and quickly felt his tongue begin to worm its way into her tight asshole. As she thrilled to what her husband  was doing, Marsha watched with growing lust as Emily varied the speed, angle and length of the strokes she gave him. "This time I want him to fuck your asshole," she said as her arm tirelessly pumped away.

 It seemed like Andrew's cock was in her virgin asshole for hours; in fact Emiy said it was more like fifteen minutes,an impressive length of time for both of them. Twice Emily had pulled his cock from Marsha's asshole, once to jack it to full hardness, the other to suck, then jack it again. Charles has fondled her small breasts and trailed wet kisses across her stomach and the insides of her thighs. Marsha was amazed at how her tight asshole adjusted to her husband's pistoning prick.

 When he fnally came,shooting an impressive load onto her belly and pubic hair, she was almost disappointed. Emily attacked his cum with gusto and sucked up every trace, feeding it slowly into Marsha's mouth and grinning broadly as the young bride swallowed the salty offering with relish.

 Reviving Andrew for another round was accomplished with some difficulty, but finally he was mindlessly thrusting between Emily's oiled breasts while Marsha licked the head when it popped up. Emily then squatted over him and rubbed the head of his cock up and down her fat lipped, shaved slot. Meanwhile Marsha was running a small but powerful vibrator up and down her husband's throbbing, twitching cock and circling his balls whenever the opportunity presented itself.

 Once more Charles took Marsha, screwing her in a number of positions while her husband watched and Emily methodically jacked him off. When Charles came, it was Emily who sucked the cum from Marsha's cunt.  Charles occupied himself by resuming the stimulation of Andrew's now enlarged prostate gland.

 Once more Marsha was positioned so that her husband could penetrate her bottom. Emily very carefully fed his stiff dick up Marsha's bunghole, and then moved back to watch him start to fuck his young bride's rectum. Marsha accommodated his hard cock quickly and he settled into a rhythm consisting of a series of deep thrusts followed by a short burst of rapid short ones.

 Marsha watched Emily begin to suck off her husband. After a few minutes she pulled Andrew's shaft from his wife's asshole and gave it a good sucking to restore its full hadness. Once more she threaded his prick into his wife, who then picked up where she had left off. Soon thanks to Emily's proficient oral skills, Charles was completely hard and now he positioned himself close to Andrew's head, his hard cock inches from the young husband's mouth. Andrew ignored him initially, then leaned closer and opened his mouth to accept the bald man's prick.

 For the next ten minutes the quartet kept their positions, Andrew was swallowing as much of Charles' cock as he could, while also thrusting in and out of his wife's tight, hot asshole. Emily was settled between Andrew's spread thighs, licking and kissing his swollen balls as Marsha made her husband's willy disappear and reappear with regularity.

 Finally the women changed places. Now Emily straddled the young groom in the reverse cowgirl position and her dripping cunt swallowed every inch of his stiff shaft, which was once more as hard as steel thanks to the vigorous hand job she had provided before mounting him. Marsha was running her tongue around her husband's tight balls, then moving up to work on Emily's shaved pussy,circling the fat lips of her twat before once more moving down to Andrew's balls. All the while Andrew was sucking Charles with enthusiasm, fulfilling Emily's prediction. For the next few minutes, Marsha  licked and sucked, Emily groaned and bounced her plump body up and down on Andrew's flat stomach, and he in turn sucked Charles and pumped Emily.

 The area around the big bed reeked of sweat, cum and pussy juice. The sound of bare skin slapping against bare skin punctuated by moans and groans were the only sounds being generated by the foursome as they fucked and sucked like lust crazed animals. Charles came first, filling the young groom's mouth with a load of watery cum, this being the third time he'd come tonight. Emily insisted that she get her husband's cum from Andrew. While the transfer was being made, Marsha took over and jerked off her husband with quick,short strokes, determined to make him spurt once more to demonstrate his potency and manliness. The older couple left the bed and sat nearby, playing with each other's private parts and observing her efforts.

 After a few minutes Emily said, "Need a hand?" The play on words made everyone except  Andrew laugh. He was too busy willing himself to cum. Emily's practiced hand and Marsha's enthusiastic mouth soon had the young groom on the verge of releasing the contents of his churning testicles.

 Emily tormented him no end, bringing him to the edge with her skilled hand and then releasing his twitching cock to flop and twitch helplessly, unable to get over that last obstacle. Again and again the plump brunette stroked Andrew to the brink,only to leave him hanging. Marsha got into the game by giving her helpless husband an incredible blowjob, nice and sloppy with plenty of  slobbering, smooching and teeth play, leaving her imprints up and down his bloated cock. Over and over she let his rock hard tuning fork of a prick slip from her mouth as soon as she sensed he was ready to erupt like a volcano.

 The teasing torture of his manhood grew more intense. Now Emily would slowly squeeze Andrew's swollen scrotum as his wife brought him closer and closer to cumming. However the pressure and pain always won out, leaving him sobbing in frustration. "Oh that's music to my ears." she gushed. At last the women took pity on him and settled down on either side of his thick length of cock, passing it back and forth from one mouth to the other until with a long drawn-out moan he began to spurt in Emily's mouth. When he finished his ejaculation, the plump brunette spilled his cum into Marsha's mouth and she in turn fed it to Andrew, who by now had no pride left and made no effort to resist.

   ( To be continued - jethro jodhpur )

ut they just would not listen. Just then I noticed the quiet one was staring at me funny I looked down and noticed with all my shouting my dressing gown had very slightly opened and I was revealing a little flesh. I couldnt could I?

OK I need the car I have no money £80 thats it, he shock his head, I will wank you both off for £381, had I just said that, was it not a good idea 10 mins of humiliation and all this was gone.

The one who had been talkng looked at his mate and then said for £381 we aill need more than a wank each. He took my hand and led me up the stairs it was almost as though they had done this many times before and almost expacted me to offer sex for payment. Into the bed room we went. Jesus with seconds both cocks where out I sat on the bed and began to wank one of them off, It was very obvious I was'nt going to get away with just wanking them off, the quiet one took hold of his cock and put it too my mouth, I opened my mouth and began to suck him off. The other one was certainly not going to be content with a wank so I took turns sucking both cocks, please just cum I thought I knew the signs of when a man was about to cum so I would pull their cocks out of my mouth and wank them to orgasm, I didnt want to swallow.

But I was then ushered onto the bed "were gunnar spit roast you" I was told, within seconds I had both my fanny and my mouth filled with cock as both my holes were fucked, they they then swapped over as I sucked the cock that had been fucking me and was being fucked by the cock I had been sucking. I could see them smirking at each other in the mirrowr on the wardrobes as they fucked me harder from each end, being shoved onto the cock I was sucking by the guy fucking me from behind.

Are you ready one of them said, yes came the reply. Ready for what I thought. Kneel down I was told, now swallow these two loads and the debt is all gone. Oh god I thought, but 2 mins it would all be over.

They stood either side of my face and began wanking their cocks off, I was licking both cocks to help them cum and bring this to an end, then all of sudden one of the cocks filled my mouth with cum, god there was so much, just as I was about to swallow it all the other cock spurted a big load into my moth also. I had mixed cum from two guys in my mouth more than I could handle but I swallowed as much as I could I wanted the debt to be gone. Some had dripped onto my chin and breasts I scopped this up with my fingers and licked it off, showing to the . bailifs that I was trying my best to swallow every drop.

One last job one of then said, come and clean us up, I wondered what he meant I got a towel and begen to wipe cum off him, no he said clean us both with your mouth, we have a busy day and we dont want to be sticky all day. I took hold of the first one and licked it all clean until there was no juices or cum on it, the second bailif then walked over and I did the same to him.

In a flash they were gone and I didnt hear from them again.......

 

though there was probably no one there at this time. It was nice and cool under the trees, and as usual I was really horny, so I decided to take off my shorts and t-shirt. The cool breeze felt great around my cock and balls and soon I had a nice hard on. There was nobody else in the wood, but there was plenty of evidence of recent action - used tissues, scraps of porno mags and I stopped to look at one well thumbed mag which someone had left lodged in the branches of a tree. The pictures were fairly tame - a Fiesta I think, but there were some good stocking shots, and I sat astride a small tree trunk and started to toss myself off as I looked at the pages. The cool bark of the tree felt really great on my arse and it was just a shame that there was no one else to join me!

After a few minutes I decided to go on a bit further and eventually came out by the fields. I found a little spot just in the trees, and put down my blanket. I sat down and got the suntan cream out and rubbed it all over, especially round my cock. I got my magazine out and was having a little play when I suddenly heard people talking. Onto the pathway, just a few yards away, two horse riders appeared. Luckily I was well hidden from them, and they were unaware of me. I stood up and watched them pass, wanking my stiff cock as I looked at the two women riders, one quite young, blonde, hair tied back under her riding helmet and the other older, dark hair, folded back in a braid as these horsy types do. They were both very attractive - I have a thing about ladies in jodhpurs - but the older one had a really tight top on and large tits, with her nipples sticking out of the material of her top. I wondered if they were hot and if all that bouncing up and down was making their fannies wet.

Seeing them ride past had made me feel really randy and I was desperate for some action now. I decided to get dressed and have a walk around, and went down towards the road. I noticed that there were a couple of cars already parked up. One was empty, and the other had two people in it. I ducked into the woods and walked down, out of site, towards the road. As I got near the main path out of the wood I could see a chap standing there, looking out toward the road. He had his back to me but I could see that he was stroking himself. He came back into the trees and saw me, but I signalled to him that it was ok, and just to prove it I got my own stiff cock out. It was a bloke I had seen before and we nodded to each other. I looked down at his very impressive, thick cock. He came closer to me and spoke.

"That old bloke is here again with Nora. They've just parked up. I'm so sexed up I think I'll join them today. I don't know if it's the hot weather but my cock is aching to be wanked. What about you?"

I had to admit I could have fucked my own granny today, but before I could reply
we heard voices, and a bloke appeared from the pathway. He must have been late sixties, dressed in a white shirt and dark trousers. Following behind him was a woman wearing a loose fitting blouse and skirt. She was much younger than him, probably mid forties, but was sadly not the sort of stunner you read about in SH stories. She had no make up, and had a round, ruddy face, like a stereotype farmer's wife.

They both stopped, just a few yards into the trees. They were about 20 feet away and though the woman had checked us both out they then ignored us, as she leant towards the old bloke and started to get his cock out. Again, unlike the stories, it wasn't a throbbing nine inches, in fact it was a rather sad affair, brown and wrinkly, and despite the woman's best attentions it was only slowly getting stiff.

The bloke who I had been talking to was called Frank, and he now walked over to join them. I was surprised that the woman didn't say a word as he rubbed her tits through her blouse, and then unbuttoned it. Her tits were braless. Quite nice handfuls really, but definitely at the sagging stage. He cupped her tits and then ran his fingers over her nipples. This finally got a response from the lady. There was a sharp intake of breath and her eyes closed. She obviously liked what Frank was doing.

And so did the old bloke. His cock had risen nicely now and Nora was doing her best to wank him off. It was obvious what turned the old bloke on - seeing his woman with someone else. All three of them were into it now. Nora and the old chap kissing as she pulled on his cock, and Frank now with his mouth round Nora's tits.

I walked over to them, still bollock naked, clutching my hard on. Although the couple were definitely not porn stars the action in front of me was quite exciting and I thought I'd try and lend a hand. I stood close to Nora, steadily wanking. She turned round briefly to look at me, and then looked down at my cock.

"That's right love. Have a nice wank with Nora. But no cocks inside."

She spoke very slowly and I wondered if she might not be the full shilling. The old chap, whose name was Bert apparently, then spoke for the first time.

"She don't want no shagging. Owt else is alright. You can finger her if you want."

I knelt down at the side of them, and watched Nora pulling quite roughly at Bert's cock. She seemed more interested in the attention she was getting from Frank. I looked down at her bare legs beneath the skirt and ever so gently lifted the hem of her skirt, right up so that I could see her fanny. She had no knickers on, and her fanny was very hairy. Frank was watching this and helped me, by holding her skirt up.

I put my right hand onto her cunt, my fingers trying to get between her slit, but it was quite tight.

"You'll have to give it a bit of wet love. Just to get me going."

I moistened my fingers with my own saliva and managed to push my fingers between her cunt lips. Once inside she juiced up quite quickly as I started to frig her. My cock was now pressed against her as I tried to get a bit of movement against her leg. At the other side of her, Frank was still licking at her tits while wanking himself.

Nora had now moved away from the old bloke and he stood watching as she rocked her head from side to side as I continued to rub her fanny. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily. She suddenly opened them and looked across at Bert.

"Go on love, let's see you spunk up. Are you ready now?"

Bert gave a grunt and stumbled forward as a little spurt of cum dribbled out of his cock. Nora immediately pulled away from myself and Frank, and they both dressed themselves and wandered off back out onto the pathway without another word.

Frank and I looked at each other. I felt quite deflated as I thought one or both of us would have ended up fucking her, but Frank said that that was all they ever did. I wanted to have sex, but I didn’t fancy just having a mutual wank - well not unless we got desperate. Frank suggested driving down to the other car park, so we made ourselves decent, and got into Frank's car.

It was only a few minutes drive, down a narrow lane, to get to the car park by the lower reservoir and we parked up and got out. There were a number of cars parked, some with single blokes in and some empty. We walked further on to a gate and them sat down at a picnic table. As we sat there, a couple of blokes came past, both bare chested, and stopped to check us out. Being there in the hot sun, with all this obvious sexual tension around was getting me really horny, and as soon as they had gone I slipped off my shorts and sat astride the hot bench. I took the porn mag out of my bag and opened it up on the table at my favourite spread, an old, but attractive, granny, dressed in my favourite black stockings, suspenders and high heels, being fucked by two blokes.

The feeling of my arse stretching across the wood was superb and I started to wank my cock, looking at the pictures. Frank came around to my side and stood by me. He put his hand down and placed it on my leg, and then moved his hand up and across. He gently lifted up my balls and eased one finger between my arse cheeks, probing for my hole. As he found it and pushed his finger up he bent down and took my stiff cock into his mouth, and started to suck me off.

As I leant back, I suddenly became aware of a bloke stood in the trees by the gate. He stepped forward, and I could see that he was rubbing at his cock through his shorts. He watched us for a minute and then came down the steps and stood by the table. He had only shorts and sandals on, and looked quite fit and tanned. His hard on was pressing against his shorts and wasted no time in lowering his shorts to reveal a very impressive cock. Frank had paused from his sucking and turned towards him, beckoning him forward. Frank then dropped to his knees and took the end of the newcomers cock into his mouth, his tongue licking and flicking at the bell end.

"I see from the magazine that you're not gay then," our new friend said. "Do you like stockings and suspenders?"

"Yes I do, I love them", I said. "But it's a bit hot for them today."

"Well my wife is wearing them today. Would you like to see?"

Without me answering he pulled himself away from Frank and stuffed his prick back into his shorts.

"It's too public here. Too many people. Do you know anywhere more private?. Oh my name is Steve, by the way, and my wife is called Maria. No, really," he said, as he caught my doubtful glance, "she's in the car now. Would you like to see her in her high heels?"

I nodded frantically, my heart pounding as I realised what might be about to happen.

"Just go down the steps till you come to the bottom," I said. "The path goes to the left, and there is a seat down there. Just sit there and I'll come down and show you the way to a quiet spot."

We both made ourselves decent, as Steve went off and up through the gate.

"It's probably Nora again, " said Frank, and we both laughed, but our expressions changed when Steve reappeared. Behind him, walking unsteadily down the steps, was a cracking woman. She had dark hair, and olive smooth skin. Her bright red lipstick matched the colour of her backless, strappy high heels. She wore a pretty white floral dress with narrow straps and her ample tits were well displayed by the low cut front.

Steve just nodded to us as they passed. His wife did not look across as she was concentrating on where she was walking. We gave them a few minutes, and had a worrying moment when a couple of other blokes appeared and went down the steps.
When we finally went down the path Steve and Maria were sitting on the seat looking out at the valley below.

I motioned to Steve to follow me, having first checked there was nobody else in sight. Frank would follow on later to make sure noone else saw us. I then went down through some trees onto a faint path that wound down to the stream at the bottom. There was an opening in the fence which led to a grassy area by the stream, which was well hidden from the road above.

In my state of sexual arousal it seemed like ages before they appeared, but eventually Steve and Maria arrived in the clearing. Steve had brought a bag with him and from it produced a travel rug which he laid on the grass. Frank had now arrived and we both watched in anticipation as Steve led Maria on to the blanket. He gestured to us to come nearer and we shuffled over. I knelt down on the blanket and Frank did the same on the other side. Steve then pulled Maria towards him, kissing her and at the same time putting his hands up her dress, so that we could see underneath. She was wearing white stockings held by a thin red suspender belt, and over the suspenders were a pair of lacy red pants.

Steve then lifted Maria's dress right up and let it fall over our heads so that Frank and me were both covered by her dress, our faces pressed up against Maria's stocking tops. I ran my hand up her legs and slipped two fingers into her pants. Frank followed and together our fingers explored Maria's juicy fanny. As we were engrossed in this Steve was unbuttoning Maria's dress and suddenly Frank and I were on display in the bright sunlight. Steve pushed forward, his large cock jutting out.

"Pull down her pants, you two. Let's see how juicy my wife's cunt is."

We slowly pulled down her lacy knickers, till they were down by her shoes. Steve then helped her out of the dress and Maria knelt down and then lay back on the blanket. Steve pushed her legs apart and fed his cock into her waiting cunt. He moved forwards slightly so that he could lift up her legs onto his shoulders as he knelt and started to fuck her.

"Come on boys. Stand here and get hold of Maria's legs. Run your hands over her stockings and heels as I fuck her." We wasted no time in following Steve's directions, pausing only to remove our shorts so that out stiff cocks were now free. After a few minutes Steve pulled out of Maria and told her to stand up. Maria got to her feet.

"Now Jack, you unclasp her bra. Go on, have a good feel of her tits. She likes that."

I went round behind her and undid the tight strap. Her full and firm tits fell forward, and I instinctively put my hands around her to feel them and squeeze the nipples. As I did this my stiff prick nudged up against her arse. She then leaned forward her tits dangling forward. Steve reached for his bag and brought out a video camera and came t stand near me.

"Go on Jack. Hold on to her suspender belt, and then fuck her from behind while she's bending over."

Within seconds I was inside Maria's cunt. It was very wet and very hot. I felt the spunk rising inside me.

"Cum over her stockings and shoes Jack. Let's see it pumping out."

I felt my orgasm hit me and pulled out just in time. The first jet went over her back but I managed to direct the rest of it on to the back of Maria's stockings.

"Fucking great Jack. Now Frank your turn. Give her a good shagging."

Frank moved behind Maria to take my place and I watched as he fed his cock up her. Like me Frank could only last a few minutes and he came a bucketful over Maria's arse and stockings. Steve had moved in close with the camera and was filming the spunk as it dribbled slowly down Maria's leg. He then passed the camera to me and told me to carry on filming as he took his place inside Maria's pulsing fanny.

"Frank you get round the front and she'll lick the spunk off your cock while Jack films us." Steve then really went at it, banging into Maria in a frenzy of fucking. He was shouting out to her, calling her a cocksucker and a slag, and she was screaming out. It couldn't have been long before the whole car park came down to see what was going on, but then they both collapsed in a heap, Steve finally pulling out of Maria and, wiping the spunk from his cock, rubbed it all over her red shoes. He then knelt down and, whilst I was still filming, put his fingers inside Maria's cunt to let the sperm trickle out.

Frank and I fucked Maria again before we went, while Steve filmed us. They never left us with any contact details, but perhaps they will turn up again one day. Maria was a very sexy girl and I often think about her when I'm fucking my wife, Julia.