Hello my dark & twisted friends, want me to tell you a story? Some people like to strip off or flash for kicks, others like their sex acts in public places (R.I.P. George Michael, we miss you); I like to talk about sex (and read about it, and do it!).
In 2016 I ventured into writing erotica – which I post on Literotica, And I’ve had good feedback from the readers there, maybe a few have followed me here (if so thank you!)
So – my 1st post contains the story which began it all. My stories are totally fictional but some contain elements of my exploits, some are fantasies or on my ‘to do list’ and some have been inspired by my reading or my adventurous friends.
I hope you enjoy it – please leave me comments & feedback to help me keep the good stuff coming!
Act of Vandalism : Posy Churchgate
The gang consisted of guys – all old enough to drink, smoke and have sex – hell they’d been scoring with girls since before they were old enough to have sex! They were rough and angry and they liked to fight and break things – sometimes they started fights in pubs or in the streets. Often they brawled with each other, like a wolf pack, the hierarchy could change with a fight. They stole cars and sped round the back streets in them, before stripping them for parts and abandoning the husks, smoking and burning, in no-man’s-land.
They didn’t have girlfriends, wouldn’t commit, couldn’t be arsed to follow the conventions of being charming for longer than it took to get into to girls’ knickers and take them hard against a wall in an alley, or for a more comfortable screw in the back of a car. Definitely no girls in the gang … until now.
Glynn brought her along, she was slim but tough, her bleached hair dark at the roots, her tight grey jeans ripped and her lip and eyebrow pierced. She didn’t talk, staying glued to Glynn’s side – her hand always in his pocket or on his thigh. When he swung his leg over the tank of his motorcycle, she was on the back in a nanosecond, helmet on, visor down, her body nestled snug against his, sliding her hands round his waist.
Glynn didn’t ask if she could join the gang, he just kept bringing her along – his shadow – why should he? Only Ant or Gary could match him in a fight, and having his own wheels gave him status, Gary shared his truck with his brother. So she came, and she hung out with them until one night – when the beers were scarce and Ant had a mean look in his eye – he challenged Glynn. She had to prove herself if she wanted in, show that she was tough and had balls of steel, just like the rest of them. Ant pointed his beer bottle in the direction of the railway sidings, where some small businesses had tatty, pre-fab, premises.
“Steal something,” Ant goaded her.,
“Dodge the security guard and nick something from inside.”
Glynn rose, shrugging off his leather jacket and squared up to Ant to fight, but Abby put both hands round his arm and pulled at him.
“S’OK” she looked up at Ant, the tension showing on her face, “I’ll do it. But I won’t steal anything – I’ll tag it.” Now her face showed defiance as she glared at Ant, the shadows on her face making her look hard.
“I can’t do it tonight, got no paint with me, but tomorrow night. You’ll see my mark, and then I’m one of you.” She looked round at the rest of the gang, her chin up and her face showing anger and determination. With that she tugged on Glynn’s arm and they stalked off, mounting his bike at speed and roaring into the night.
Glynn parked the motorbike in the shadow behind his flat, and the way he threw himself off it and shouldered his way inside the front door spoke volumes about his contained anger. Abby followed him silently, hanging up her jacket & crash helmet just inside the door, she watched him kick off his boots and grab a cold beer from the fridge with more energy than either task required. She moved over to the couch and tried to sit astride his lap, seeking to soothe his wounded pride with affection, but he gripped her hips and pushed her to the side, standing abruptly.
“Going for a shower,” he all but snarled, slamming his beer on the side.
It foamed up and over the rim of the bottle; Abby watched the beer pool and chewed her nails, planning her next move. Glynn had wanted to fight for her, she hadn’t let him, Ant had issued a challenge – she had accepted it . On both counts she had probably wounded Glynn’s male pride, his ego was dented. She needed to remind him he was still the boss of her – that she wanted and needed him to take the lead. Slowly standing, she took off her biker boots and then peeled off her skin-tight jeans. Wearing nothing but her tangerine lace boy-shorts and her white t-shirt, she tiptoed to the bathroom.
Once inside the small room, Abby stood and admired the view, Glynn’s back was to her and she watched as rivulets of water ran over his broad shoulders, and down his muscled arms, which were dark with the intricately inked tattoos. Through the steam she could see him soaping himself, and her eyes followed the white trails of bubbles as they travelled over his hips and beautiful taut buttocks, some running down his legs but others disappearing into the darker crevices of his groin, that’s when Abby felt the delicious stirring of lust within. As she moved closer to the shower, Glynn turned, smouldering anger still showing on his face, sparking a further stab of lust inside her. She loved sex with this barely-tamed man, and best of all was make-up sex. Abby just kept walking, her eyes fixed on his, and stepped into the shower – the water hit her t-shirt and she knew it had turned opaque and was clinging to every curve of her. Her nipples were clearly visible as sheer wet fabric clung to them and her panties were soaking wet – but not just from water!
Abby reached out and took the soap from Glynn’s hand and expertly rubbed it between her palms and fingers before sinking to her knees and beginning to soap his engorged penis like it was an act of worship (which it was!) The soap made everything deliciously slick and she could easily grip and slip and slide up and down and round and around, stroking the bulbous head and reaching under Glynn to massage his balls and perineum. Water from the shower head streamed down on her head, but she was absorbed in her task, happy to act as slave to her master. She allowed the soap bubbles to be rinsed off and then lowered her lips to the head of his penis. She swirled her tongue around the top, feeling the edge and knowing its sensitivity. She used her hands to grip and continue pumping and stroking Glynn’s penis, allowing the foreskin to slide up and down with the occasional twist. Keeping this up with a hand and her mouth, Abby let her other travel down to her own moist slit, it was easy to sneak her middle finger round the tangerine coloured lace and press it into her warm, wet cunt. She sighed, it felt wonderful and molten hot, but this was not her plan – she removed it to reach behind Glynn, curling her fingers as a shield, she carried her sticky juices up to Glynn’s wonderfully muscular butt and wiggled her finger until it slipped just inside his anus. Not too much, not too far, but subtly, insistently she massaged around the puckered entry ’till she felt him relax and begin to enjoy it. His hips began to thrust and it took all her concentration to maintain the suction and the rhythm that he needed.
A few moments later she felt Glynn grip her shoulders to pull his hips back from her face, whilst dragging her up from her knees. He crushed his lips to hers and kissed her long and hard, their tongues massaging each other and his hands kneading her lace covered rump, pinching and stroking and allowing his fingers to trail into her sodden pussy – pushing the lace at her entrance. She closed her eyes to better enjoy the sensations and felt him grip the hem of her t-shirt and lift it over her head. He had turned the water off now and she tried not to stagger as he lowered his head to nip, none to gently, at her tightly pointed nipples. He sucked them deep into his mouth one at a time, and the ache from the suckling made her insides turn to molten lava. She felt her clit throb and pulse as he played teasingly with the ring that pierced the one on her right. His hand was pinching, and twisting and pulling at her other nipple making delightful charges run direct to her cunt. The yearning to have him inside her was building and she felt as if her head might explode.
Glynn sank to his knees and Abby sank with him, but she turned until she was sitting, reverse cowgirl, against his groin, his stiff member rubbing tauntingly at the crease of her arse. It only took a raise onto her knees, pulling her panties to one side, and then a drop, and his delicious hardness plunged into her pulsing core. She felt the rub of his balls against her labia – she hadn’t persuaded him to shave yet, but Abby liked to be waxed bare. Not only did it increase sensation, and feel delicious (like a peach) when she was stroked, but she loved the way she couldn’t disguise when she became aroused. Glynn got so horny when he saw her lips get engorged and the slick juices gathering on her clit. Abby kept up the rhythm, bobbing to match Glynn’s thrusting, she could feel herself gripping and throbbing deep inside, around his pounding cock. Her chest was warming, her head was pounding, and a build-up of pressure began to focus in the core of her. She pressed her fingers to the hood of her clit and rubbed in tiny circles as she rode him, she felt her climax bursting inside, like the multi-coloured sparks of a firework display. Glynn thrust harder too, a grunt escaping his lips as he shot his load, gripping tightly to Abby’s hips. Breathing deeply he leaned forward and nuzzled her neck, just below her ear.
“Who’s the boss?” he murmured, and Abby chuckled and smiled.
Next night was dry, with little clouds scudding across the moon, blotting out the light, but Glynn parked the bike near the railway tracks and Abby stood leaning against the warmth of it as they observed the run- down buildings. Abby used binoculars to decide which area would be best to display the graffiti she had promised – her distinctive tag. Glynn pressed close behind her, the heat of him burning into her, and when he let his hands travel up the sides of her ribs, lifting her loose t-shirt slightly, she shivered and felt the familiar warm throb he always awoke in her. She tried to stay focused, this wasn’t going to be easy, the security guard might stay in his cosy hut reading girlie mags and listening to the football, or he might be super keen and patrol the premises. At the moment things looked very quiet and still, yellow light spilling out of the windows of the security hut.
Oh my God! she swallowed hard as Glynn tugged gently on the back elastic of her thong and the silky triangle dipped between her labia and began to rub on her clit deliciously. Her legs nearly buckled and a tiny moan escaped her lips. Glynn’s other hand had reached her breast and was pinching insistently on her nipple through the lace of her black bra. Typical bloke, she could feel his hard-on pressing against the cleft of her arse, but she couldnt help herself arching her back and rubbing at him, it all felt so good. Abby felt strong and powerful with the adrenaline flowing through her.
“Hold that thought buster!” she turned to him, smiling and kissing him deeply, tongues chasing each other, she rubbed herself against him, like a horny kitten.
“Girl’s got a mission.” Her voice was husky with suppressed desire.
She pushed him away with regret and reached into the pannier on the motorbike lifting out her small backpack, the aerosols clanked softly as she shrugged it over her shoulders. She snagged a dark wool beanie from the same place and pulled it on over her dirty blonde hair.
“Wish me luck,” she pressed her lips hard against his for a last kiss then pushed the binoculars at him then she was off; running, keeping to the shadows, zigzagging towards the gap in the chain-link fence where she squeezed through, never glancing back.
Her heart thumped in her chest and her breath was loud in her ears, but in reality she was moving soundlessly across the dirt and discarded detritus that was a car park by day for the 6 small businesses. Abby’s focus was on the middle building because it was light coloured and would show off her graffiti best, the only trouble was that she needed to reach up high, past the rusty-grill covered windows, to access the ‘blank canvass’. She crouched and crept, very near to the premises now, but she needed to drag something over to stand on. From her earlier surveillance she’d spotted some oil drums, but had no way of knowing if they were empty or full. She crouched down at the side of the huge canisters and cautiously rocked the nearest one with both hands – luck was on her side, this was going to be light enough for her to move, just.
Several sweaty minutes later, she had pushed, pulled and dragged the peeling drum into position. A concrete block nearby gave her the first step and then she climbed carefully up onto her makeshift platform and reached into her backpack for a can of black paint & shook it vigorously before beginning to spray the distinctive curled leaf shape that she always used. She sprayed and shaded quickly now, she could almost do this logo in her sleep, feeling exhilaration at bringing beauty to an ugly blank wall. As she reached up, her t-shirt riding high to reveal her slim waist, she felt a hand suddenly grip her ankle and another dragging her backwards using her back-pack like a harness. She half fell, was half wrested to the ground, landing at the feet of the security guard. He said nothing, his face in shadow, but he kept a tight grip on her bag and used it to drag her to the door of the building and inside to a very basic waiting area, with hard plastic chairs down one side, a battered office desk & peeling leatherette executive chair and some chrome shelves to the other side, which were filled with fliers, stacks of sweatshirts and t-shirts in piles according to size and colour.
Abby felt her earlier thrill drain away, replaced by the cold chill of panic and inevitability – this wasn’t going her way and soon there would be policemen here asking questions about who she was, where she lived and they would be trying to track down her Dad. Good luck with that, he was probably passed out on a bar stool or in an alley somewhere. She gritted her teeth and waited for the questions, but the security guard was strangely silent, moving to the door of the reception area he turned the key in the lock. Abbey watched him, equally silent, noticing that he was not the usual sweaty, fat, out of shape guy. This one was dressed in all black combats with DM boots which squeaked on the hard rubberized floor, but under his t-shirt and shirt he looked to be well muscled and in good shape. She felt a little more in control of the situation, she stood a bit straighter and touched her tongue to the ring which pierced her lip. Never taking her eyes off his face – which was a mask of severity – she began to shrug her back-pack off, keeping it slow, no sudden moves. As it slid to the floor her cut away t-shirt slipped off her shoulder, revealing a lot of her black lacy bra and a tiger’s head tattoo. She noticed the guy’s eyes slide to the exposed flesh and did a mental fistpump – “yes!” she had him, he wanted her body.
Abby had a way of standing, moving which evoked little-girl-lost, and and she used it now, along with puppy dog eyes. She moved over to the desk and put her hands flat on its surface, wide apart, very aware that now her t-shirt was riding up her back and showing the tattoo of curled leaves which ran up the soft side of her left flank, and a hint of black thong above her low-slung jeans.
She also arched her back so that her rear stuck out at him, cute and tempting and then whispered “Do you want to search me?”
He moved closer and leaned over her, running his hands down her sides, so close that she could smell his shower gel or shampoo, a mixture of minty and musky that spoke to her body directly. His touch was feather light though his hands were large, he ran them down the outside of her legs, thighs to ankles, and then he put one of his large boots between her feet, and indicated with pressure to either side that he wanted her to spread her legs wider. Abby complied, shifting her weight on her hands as he didn’t move back or give her any more space. Next he trailed his warm hands up the inside of her legs, cupping her backside very thoroughly, at which point Abby realised she was tingling with building lust and enjoying being at his mercy.
“Is there anything I can do to convince you not to report this?” she whimpered, looking at him over her shoulder with imploring eyes and catching her bottom lip with her teeth. She blinked at him as if she was getting teary and took great gulps of air, which made her feel deliciously light headed and drew attention to her ripe breasts. Still leaning over her, he slid a hand inside her flimsy t-shirt and skimmed it around her breast, Abby let out a shuddering sigh (she wasn’t acting any more, being massaged by his huge paw felt sexy as hell) and as he bent his head to nuzzle her neck, she knew that a deal could be done. She tilted her head to let him nibble at her throat and she arched her back, pressing her behind into his crotch, feeling the power of his arousal.
“I probably should be punished,” she kept her voice husky and let her eyes scan the desk for something useful; when she spotted a long ruler boasting that it was shatterproof her heart leaped and she reached for it. As she passed it to him over her shoulder she reached for the snap on her jeans and began to peel them off her delightfully curvy rump – she knew it was an appealing sight, her very white skin with just the lines of her black thong dividing her “peaches” into two. She pulled off her t-shirt for good measure and the ring in her right nipple glinted through the lacy bra. She assumed the position again, legs spread wide, hands on the desk and buttocks perky and beckoning.
Abby stood there in silence for a while. When nothing happened, she wondered if she’d gone too far, then she heard the squeak of his soles on the floor as he moved, then THWACK! A hot stinging blow landed on her rump and she let out a yelp. THWACK again, on the other cheek, wow it stung, but somehow not too much. THWACK, THWACK he rained several more swipes on her backside and she realised she was beginning to get a fantastic sensation between her legs, a warming which was different from the burning stinging her arse was currently enduring, this was a heaviness that was as delicious as it was debilitating. She felt she couldn’t move if she wanted to, all her focus was on her burning behind – wondering where the next blow would land, longing for him to spank her pussy! It was dripping wet now, so engorged and full of lust that she wondered what it must look like to him, spanking her – she imagined that it looked like a hungry dripping mouth, because all she wanted to do was take his cock inside her and ‘eat’ it all up.
Her breasts felt heavy too, jiggling with each blow, the nipples pressing painfully against their confines of lace, and she heard herself moaning with each slap that the ruler delivered. Just when Abby thought she could endure no more, the spanking stopped. Her rump felt glowing with punishment and her legs were beginning to wobble but strong hands gripped her hips and held her firm and she felt him kneel behind her and take several delicious laps at her dripping pussy with his tongue. The contrast in temperature was insane, his tongue seemed so cool and almost raspy compared with the slick, juices that were drooling out of her burning slit right now. What he was doing was too soft, too gentle by far, a bad girl like her (and she felt very bad and wanton now) deserved rough treatment; she wanted to be filled with a monster penis and fucked into the middle of next week!
His licking tongue began to roam, he pulled her g-string to the side and began tonguing her most secret place, rimming the edges delightfully while something cool was rubbing against her pussy lips. Abby’s head was totally befuddled with desire, but she was aware that something thick and cool was pressing against her labia and meeting no resistance. It seemed delightful to be feeling sensations in both places at once and her greedy cunt almost sucked at the cool black cylinder that she could now see slidinging in and out of her. It was his torch! He was fucking her juicy pussy with his flashlight, and she didn’t care! In fact she welcomed the battering ram that it was, and thrust back at it. How filthy must she look to him now? She could feel her juices running down her legs, she could feel his warm tongue licking around her arse and occasionally probing inside and she was loving it. Her moans had become constant mewls of desire and groans of delight as he plundered and punished her, the warm tingles of her spanked bottom and the aching in her breasts just adding to the sensory confusion.
Just then her legs began to buckle, she had stood for so long, and the desire building was making them feel weak. Abby grasped the desk and began to turn her head but he was already taking her weight from behind & moving her to the office chair. As he settled her back into the chair she smiled at him wickedly and began to work on his zip. His hard-on was pressed between his flat stomach and the wide elastic of his jockey shorts – black like his other clothes. She licked the ‘tear’ of pre-cum from the tip and began to lick and suck with practised ease. She ran her tongue around and around the helmet before sinking her mouth onto him, sucking as she slid down and up his shaft, teeth shielded at all times. He towered over her as she pleasured him this way, and she thought absently of the picture they made – him totally dressed still, in his menacing uniform and she white skinned and vulnerable with just the stripes of black elastic and lace which made up her miniscule underwear.
He made a growl in his throat and she realised he was close, so she reluctantly stopped licking and sucking, and leaned back in the seat, spreading her legs wide and allowing her knees and calves to hang over the arms on either side of the chair. Then she un-hooked her bra, slid it off and began to pinch and press her already engorged nipples whilst looking him straight in the eye. It was like an electric charge to her clitoris when her nipples were played with and today was no exception. She looked up at him as he towered over her and whispered “Fuck me – fuck me hard!”
With a groan he grabbed her , two hands to her waist, and lifted her up. Abby gripped him with her legs, clinging like a monkey as he guided her onto his tool. Her swollen lips welcomed him in and seemed to suck at him greedily while he thrust inside her, long and slow strokes, then fast and hard. She was so ready for this, that she came almost immediately, yelping and squeezing at him, seeing starbursts of colours behind her closed eyes. She sank onto him limply, overwhelmed by the strength of her orgasm, and he held her, speared on his member like a peach on a spike. When she recovered a little he settled his rump on the desk and leaned back, letting her ride him. This time she moved slowly, she was satisfied but felt a tingle of hunger in her pussy still, and as she rose up and down with a steady rhythm, Abby felt the thrilling sensations gathering again. He used the pressure of his thumb to torment her sensitive clit then he put his hands on her waist to guide her and keep her from speeding up too soon. The buildup was slow and delicious, all her focus was on the waves of sensation – not just in her pussy but pulsing in her still tingling butt which throbbed through her until the exploding climax, where she clenched and twitched in delicious torture and soared off to freedom. She felt him jerk under her gasping, his member throbbing in spurts and she knew that he’d cum too. Abby was spent – like a rag doll.
She came to her senses a little while later and felt embarrassed to be astride this hulk of a man who had just spanked and frigged and fucked her. She tried to maintain dignitity while she scurried to gather her clothes and pull them on again – making as little eye contact as possible. She spied the ruler on the floor and the flashlight nearby, and a wave of shame washed over her. She shrugged her backpack on, the cans made a muffled clank within.
“We done here?” she asked, a sulky tone to her voice.
The guard looked at her, his clothes now adjusted as if nothing had occurred.
“Yeah, all straight,” he said, which she took to mean that their bargain was complete.
She pulled on her beanie hat and turned the key in the door.
“Come back another night and finish your tag.”
His voice was so low, Abby wasn’t sure she had heard him right. She hunched against the chill night air, and set off across the dirt in the direction of the hole in the fence.
The security guard turned off the lights and exited the building, locking the padlock on the door. Nearing his hut he pulled the torch from his pocket and drew it past his nostrils, breathing deeply, before clipping it back onto his belt. Then he walked to his chair and switched the CCTV recording from the T-shirt printing business to rewind – this should be almost as horny to watch as it had been to take part!