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The Pack Ch. 01

By: Quin



I wasn't going to be intimidated by the stupid men who lived in the village. Walking confidently along the narrow path that lead through the woods I was determined to ignore the noises, the infantile cackling and shouts coming from a short distance behind me.

We had been happy at first having moved into the area from the city. Our cottage needed renovating and that's when things started to go wrong. These people had their own ways as country folk do and maybe we were wrong to employ local, and not very professional labour rather than an established city firm. As an affluent couple in our early thirties we need not have tried to make economies. The work was shoddy and the men lazy, and my husband lost no time in complaining.

As for myself I felt a little responsible, guilty that I had encouraged the men to be lax. Having given up work temporarily until we settled in I had become bored at home in that isolated cottage and idle minds get up to mischief. I had enjoyed the attention I was getting from that bunch of rough men and when my husband was at work I sometimes had the urge to do quite naughty things -- like dress to tease. I would wear thin see-through dresses and tops and purposely stand against the light chatting to them, knowing they would be able to see through my clothes. I wore very low cut tops baring my midriff together with skirts so tight and short that they may have qualified as belts. Neither was I bashful about the occasional flash of panties when I bent over or climbed out of the car.

I remember one hot day when all five men were standing in the yard when I drove up and swung open the door of our low sporty soft-top car. I stretched one long leg out of the vehicle then pretended to be sorting out my stuff. The effect on the men was electric -- as it was on me -- their chatter and chuckling stopped and they just stood and stared with lewd grimaces as my short tight skirt rode up my thighs to expose the front of my pink lace panties. When I finally climbed out of the car I smiled sexily and sweetly at them letting them know I had done it all intentionally just to tease them.

It was when they were working on the roof of the old stables that I picked my time to go into the bedroom or bathroom -- and partly undress. The roof was about level with the upstairs windows of the cottage and pretending not to be aware of them looking I would pull my top over my head or slowly unfasten the buttons of my shirt before slipping it off. Sometimes I would parade around a while with just my bra covering my upper body. One of my more daring moments was when I answered the door to two of the men, with my shirt undone and apart, and let them have a leisurely look while I kept the conversation going unnecessarily.

Over the weeks I found that just being stood talking to them or of being a short distance away was enough to arouse. It was the dirty way they looked at me. These were rough men, big men, stripped to their waists when it was hot, dirty and sweaty. They never attempted to hide signs of the lust they felt and would blatantly stare at my breasts, smirking. They liked also to see my embarrassment (and often excitement) when a bulge would start to grow in their groin. They would know my eyes would keep darting to look at their crotch and would smirk at each other then me displaying their manhood's through their pants.

Then came the day when my husbands' patience ran out at the slow pace of their work. He stormed into the barn one morning with a list of things to complain about. The row went on for a long time with threats of litigation and refusal to pay and much more. I kept out of the way after that; until the day it rained very hard. 

I was walking across the yard feeling the eyes of the men burrowing into me. It was between heavy showers and the cobbled area was slippy. I had just reached a place where the cobbles gave way to a muddy three-inch deep puddle of rainwater when I stupidly glanced round at the staring men and went sprawling into the mire. With legs akimbo I struggled to get up but fell again into the muddy water to the laughter of the men who by now had approached me. Sobbing and humiliated I stopped struggling for a moment while I tried to regain my composure and dignity. I found myself looking up at the men, helpless and completely at their mercy. I realised that between their laughter and mocking comments that their eyes focused between my legs and roamed over my body. The water had made my clothes see-through and as I glanced down even I could make out the redness of my nipples through the white wet top. But more interesting for them, was as my legs were wide and my right knee bent they had a clear view of my pussy, as my wet skirt, clinging to my thighs, had ridden all the way up my legs.

They stood on the edge of the pool and stared, now silently, down at me with a mixture of lewdness and contempt. I felt a little scared and my heart raced, knowing that they had no intention of helping me -- then I saw evidence of one man getting an erection!

"Sexy wet bitch doesn't look so high and mighty now!" said one.

I gasped as the hand of another man went to feel his crotch and grabbing the bulge circled his palm like he was stimulating his penis openly. It was then I became aware that because of my stunned disbelief of their ungentlemanly behaviour that I had made no attempt to cover myself. I saw several pairs of eyes focused between my legs and conscious of the sexual effect it was having on the men I experienced a very shocking and unexpected emotion. I was getting a strange feeling, a thrill from being in this position of complete helplessness. I knew that if the men chose to, they could do all manner of things to me and make me beg for mercy as I submitted to their lust.

A foot came out and pressing against the inner thigh of my left leg he forced my knees wider apart. I could have just as quickly closed my thighs together but I didn't. Leaning up on my forearms I sat there in the mud, not crying, not screaming, just looking back at them -- and they noticed right away my unusual and unexpected response and seemed to detect a certain telling expression on my face.

The men had become serious and were no longer laughing loudly. Still, three of them played with the front of their pants and now I openly stared back watching with interest the movement of their hands. One man, who had always seemed more evil and lewd, stepped up the edge of the muddy puddle. His eyes told me he was going to do something to shock me, to upset me, make me scream out, amuse his uncouth friends. They were just as shocked as I was when he undid his fly and pulling out his cock he began to urinate into the water.

He showed his utter contempt for both my husband and I by his humiliating dirty act. He remarked that now, 'the posh stuck up rich city bitch' was getting what she deserved. If he expected me to scream he had got it wrong. The incredible feeling I was experiencing from being a total submissive was intensified. Instead of screaming I found myself focusing intently on the thickness of the penis and the bulbous red head that had that little slit gushing forth a strong stream of piss into the water I was sitting in. I felt the warmness reach my legs and took in a deep breath -- and still, to the men's amazement my legs stayed wide apart. I didn't care that all men stood waiting for me to react in a way a normal woman should, I ogled at the semi-flaccid penis, much thicker than my husbands' or indeed any other I had even seen. I watched patiently, until his piss finished streaming.

Two hands came from nowhere and I was lifted up. An unshaven face was close to mine looking coldly into my eyes. I could feel a hardness against my tummy and I'm sure the man detected the faint sign of a smile on my face. My hands were lifted above my head, and before I knew it the wet top was pulled off, over my head. I felt all eyes on my breasts before someone said I should be hosed down. My wet skirt was clinging to my hips now and the mud was doing a better job of covering my modesty than my clothes were.

Now I cried out -- the water was cold and took away my breath. Stood there in the corner of the yard one man doused me with the slow flowing hosepipe while two others wiped away the mud from my body. The others watched quietly as the hands and fingers of their pals touched and rubbed my very private places. I whimpered, but not because of the wandering hand or liberties taken, I complained only about the coldness of the water. Almost simultaneously one voice suggested we should all go inside where they could 'warm me up' while the other commanded, 'Take her bra off'.

None of those things happened but I was ashamed later to admit that I was happy to have gone along with both requests, and the men knew that. My arms had already moved out from my side, bent at the elbows as they do allow garments to fall away. One strap was already slipped off my shoulder. Unprompted I had taken several steps toward the house with the men following me. 

It was the sound of an engine that prevented any plans from being completed. The men, startled, and brought back to reality quickly bundled me away but I resisted and yelled urgently for someone to retrieve my top. I was as anxious as the men were to hide any evidence of what had transpired -- a fact that I'm sure would get their brain cells pondering for many a hour afterwards. Shouldn't I have screamed and called for help - not assist them in covering their tracks?

When the approaching vehicle pulled into the yard the men were back at their tasks. It was not my husband as they had feared but one of our suppliers, come to bring a quote. With a robe pulled around me I explained calmly my accident in the yard, falling into a muddy puddle and avoided any questioning by letting my robe slip open to both divert his attention and prove my story was true in essence. His eyes popped out of his head and it was actually harder to get rid of him.

Over the next couple of days the men must have been on tenterhooks. I glanced at them frequently from a distance seeing the confusion and anxiety on their faces. When I was with my husband I avoided directly looking at them but I knew what was going through their minds and guessed what they talked about over a drink. They had gone just a little too far that day and they would wonder why I hadn't called the police or at least told my husband. Some of them had committed very dirty depraved acts and it must have confused then no end when later they realised I would have let them take me in the house and I was about to allow them to take off my bra.

It must have been obvious to them -- as it was to me -- that if the visitor hadn't interrupted that things would have gone much further -- that sex of some sort would have almost certainly have taken place. Like the men I also pondered the question; why had I been so willing and submissive?

Anyway, that was a couple of months ago and since then the men had been fired off. I still ran into them occasionally in the village and got this funny feeling when I caught them staring at me. They held a grudge over losing the work as everyone in the village knew and it seemed to me that they would have loved to get revenge on my husband through me. They would intimidate me by looking for a chance to corner me when they would just stand in front of me blocking my path and smirk while they blatantly ogled my breasts and legs.

If Steve, my husband, and I were in the pub of an evening and I made a visit to the ladies room I would expect to be cornered in the little corridor and sometimes one of them would stroke my arm and they would grin when I gasped and looked frightened. Even when at the village stores I would expect that when I went back to the little secluded car park that two or more would watch me load my shopping away and openly stare from a few yards away watching while I got into the car and drove off.

I can't explain why I still wore short skirts and low tops and bent over into the vehicle or didn't take enough care when stretching my legs into the driver's seat. Maybe I hoped if they enjoyed a brief look and knew they had succeeds in humiliating me that they would be satisfied and they would leave Steve and me alone.

It was silly for me to carry on into the woods when I had known they were following me. I walked along and tried to ignore both them, and the fact that I was experiencing a strange kind of excitement inside. The feeling was weird and it made me feel very disturbed and guilty somewhat; because it felt like their was something sexual about it. I denied that fact to myself continually as I walked along and told my 'other self' that I was simply going to carry on exercising my right to walk in the woods and maybe sit and take in the sun for a while.

Behind me was quiet now and I walked a little further till I came to a small clearing and sat down on the coat I had brought in case there was a shower. I relaxed but every now and then certain noises from the shrubs made me feel I was being watched. My weird feeling increased but I stayed put where I was. Determined to carry on enjoying my leisure time I took off my top let the sun warm my skin. What did it matter if someone was there as I wore not underwear but swimwear, a simple everyday bikini? For that same reason, when I lay back, what did it matter if my dress blew up around my hips?

Relaxing I lay back and felt the sun on my skin and now dozing I felt my thoughts drifting away and that odd feeling was creating fantasy's inside my head. The fantasy that I was being surrounded my those crude men was swiftly dispelled when I felt the warmth of the sun give way to a cool darker draft and opening my eyes to see what was shading me I tensed, giving off a cry when I discovered that my fantasy was fact.

I looked up at the grinning and mocking men, scared of making a move. One, who had my top in his hands, began to rub it against his crotch. I noticed now that each and every one of the four men had a considerable bulge in the front of his pants.

"Can I have my clothing back?" I pleaded, knowing full well it wouldn't be that easy.

The eyes of the men examined every inch of my body and I even saw how their penises twitched and stiffened. 

"Sure," said one, "Follow us, we'll give it back when we reach the edge of the woods."

I sat up now and watched them stroll away turning and waving the top at me giggling like immature boys teasing other kids.

"Come on then!" they goaded.

I stood and slowly followed them back into the woods but just as I was at the edge of the clearing hands grabbed me and pulled me to the ground. One of the men had hidden behind a bush and jumped out on me. As I struggled and screamed the others laughed; my arms were raised over my head and strong hands clamped my wrists holding me down making my breasts heave and push out as I sucked in deep breaths. The men went quieter now while they fed their lust by gazing at my rising chest covered only by my bikini top. I went very weak and stopped struggling, just gazing back up at them.

"There will also be a forfeit to pay!" sneered the man holding me down.

I smelt his sweat and felt the roughness of his unshaven face against my cheek as he whispered aloud in my ear. His lips brushed mine when he moved his head forward and then our eyes locked. He kissed me briefly again before staring back into my eyes, surprised that I hadn't struggled or screamed. I sensed that the other men were tense and watching intently then saw for myself when the man nuzzled his mouth into my neck making me squirm and wriggle. Now he was becoming very aroused and at least one of the standing men played with the front of his pants.

It was an electric shocking moment when again our eyes locked and I tried to push myself up before going limp -- and submissive. The man took advantage and pressing his lips hard against mine he forced his tongue into my mouth making me automatically attempt to resist -- because that is what a woman ought to do isn't it? I wriggled and squirmed for a minute as he alternately nibbled my neck kissed me full on the lips and ran his tongue down my cleavage. I felt his hardness and it seemed futile and pointless to maintain my struggle but involuntarily I still wriggled my body and it took a while for me to realise I was doing it in a very different way.

I caught glimpses of the other men and felt they could read my mind and sense the weirdness of my emotions. I let out a moan instead of a desperate cry and everyone saw how my mouth opened to accept the tongue of the slobbering man holding me down. Between wet kisses our eyes locked and I gave up any attempt to hide the fact that I was feeling thrilled and aroused. As he pushed his cock against my belly I even gave off a faint smile kissing him back and responding.

"Hey, you've had your turn!" yelled one of the men pulling back his shoulder.

At the very same time a laughing moron yanked down my loose skirt and dancing around with it over his head he and the others returned to their normal state of stupidity. Now, in just my bikini I felt vulnerable in that wood as the men bid me to follow them carrying all three items of clothing, the third being my coat which had my keys, phone and money inside the pocket. 

It felt chilly now as I followed them into the wood protesting, appealing to their better nature and simply begging for them to be reasonable -- to no avail.

"Please!" I begged for the thousandth time.

The men had slowed and now I was stood amongst them. I was startled when I felt two hands take hold of me from behind and shivered a little when they traced a line around my midriff, one hand resting just under my breasts. I guessed they would all want a kiss and a grope before they returned my clothes and had really resigned myself to this fact. So when I easily succumbed to the man's advances it was read a different way.

"She's loving it!"

Many hands now fondled me ignoring my sobs and pleas while slobbering mouths wet my face and body. For a couple of minutes they mauled and felt me then I cried out when suddenly the strap holding my bikini top fell loose. Instantly my arms covered my bust, hiding my nipples from view, as it was too late to grab the garment.

"Please, no!" I cried constantly as the men tried to make me uncover my breasts tempting me with the promise they would return my clothes in exchange for my cooperation.

"We could rip off your lower half as well!" threatened one.

"No, Please!" 

Stood in the middle and helpless I held my arms across my breasts as the one I called the evil one -- the one who had urinated in the pool unzipped his pants. Clearly he had dark propensity to piss in front of women as he answered his friends' shout of, "You're not going to fucking do that again are you?" with an affirmative answer. Hands and fingers were all over me once again as they coaxed me, feeling me while they licked and kissed me.

With all the different hands touching my together with the feeling of helpless vulnerability and virtual nakedness the strange emotion returned, more intense and powerful than before. I looked directly at the stiff cock being handled right before me and found I had allowed a finger or two to delve between spaces in the folds of my arms and touch my nipple.

"Come on, move your hand, lets see your tits!"

The urge was too much and whispering that they had to keep their promise I moved my left hand and let them see my naked breast, complete with stiff nipple. Immediately a mouth closed around it and sucked making me cry out while the men gasped with lust. Through the haze of abnormal thoughts and sensations I could tell the other men expected and were waiting, for me to change my mind and fight. They may have been as confused as I was when I sobbed and moaned but stayed quite still letting the man lick and suck my tit, sometimes hard and roughly, before letting my right hand fall away from my right breast to surrender it to their depravity. In no time at all another mouth closed over my nipple and there I stood, a man on each tit, arms outstretched, whimpering, but gazing intently at a third who was masturbating in front of me.


The Pack Ch. 01



Part One: Pity Fuck

Muffled whines could be heard from behind her as a rather large guy lay crying with his back to her. The woman was in no mood for his crocodile tears nor was she too ready to throw the guy a pity fuck either. Sid and Solomon had been dating for about six months now and at first, it was quite easy going with a few cuddles and hugs there, but soon the relationship was turning rocky with Solomon's lack of working and Sid just plain fed up with his laziness. 

Tonight, and like every weekend for the past two weeks, Solomon had gone moping and quite depressing around his friends which soon drove Sid to ranting once more. Since the room was quite confined as well as Sid's bed being quite weak to hold both of them, they would usually remove the mattress and throw onto the floor for a makeshift bed. Below, Sid's mother and her girlfriend were too having another argument about financial issues and such. At least she wasn't the only one suffering.

"You're hogging the blankets again," Sid whispered.

"Sorry. Sid, can we talk?" Solomon asked sitting up.

The guy was pure Irish; red hair, red beard and blue eyes. Red faced and tears streaming down his cheeks, Solomon took a glance at Sid whom had her long dreadlocks into a messy bun.

"I'm tired of 'talking' with you, Solomon. It's like talking to a brick wall most of the time and all you do is cry. Now go to bed and leave me alone!" she snapped darkly.

Solomon stifled another cry as more tears fell from his eyes. Sid was unmoved as she adjusted her body and mumbled curses under her breath hoping to get enough sleep.

"Why won't you have sex with me?"

There was a long pause before Sid flicked on the light beside her and looked at him with dark brown eyes angrily. With the lack of sleep, having to deal with her parents, and now the guy bitching about the loss of sex was overwhelming her poor soul. A feral like growl escaped her mouth as her eyes quickly shifted from brown to a bright green at an instant.

"You should be happy I even let you spend the night tonight!" she snarled at him with her voice getting slightly deeper.

Solomon cringed and leaned up against the wall while he wiped away his tears on the now soiled bed sheets.

"I just want to have it end right. I mean, can't we do this just for old time's sake?" 

He gave a sad puppy eyed grin at her as she rolled her eyes and nodded. At an instant he pounced on her removing his own shirt and boxers. Somehow, he had managed to get erect enough for Sid to begin groping at his thick and rather fuzzed belly. Turning the light off, Sid kissed Solomon deeply feeling his red beard scratch her face a bit. She winced as she slipped her own laced purple underwear off and felt his thin fingers graze against her pink lips. Breathing softly, a moan escaped her mouth as she shivered with pleasure. Solomon was always good with his hands when he played with her pussy just right. Grinning and slipping her tongue into his mouth, she tasted the disgusting aftertaste of cheap beer and mint. Drool escaped her lips as he pushed his fingers more around her swollen lips that were starting to get wet. Sid wasn't ready for the grand finale just yet. Sitting up, she encouraged him to lie on his back while she stood up. With only wearing her wife beater top, one could see Sid's C cup breasts just right. They were perky surprisingly as well as her nipples now quite erect from excitement. Slowly, she slipped off her shirt, raising it above her head and wiggling her thick hips from side to side. Her vagina was shaved and clean cut to perfection as she bent down to one knee and began stroking Solomon's hard on. About 4.5 inches in all, she began to fondle her own breasts while hearing his soft groans of delight as he attempted to finger her pussy a bit more. 

"What do you want?" she snapped looking down at him with a lusty grin and now glowing green eyes.

Solomon smiled and licked his own lips mumbling something incoherently. Sid took this as something quite confusing and let out a low and rich growl from her mouth. It seemed to echo around the small room as she leaned forward a bit more gripping tighter at his frail member now getting slightly harder. Solomon was too excited to speak as Sid lowered her head and slid down softly. 

Bundled up between his legs, she began to use her flexible, soft, ping tongue to wrap fully around his shaft. Saliva poured from her mouth a bit more providing the right lubrication to move her tongue up and down at a fast pace. Solomon moaned loudly as he thrust upwards with each playful lick her received from the girl. Sid was just showing mercy on the poor guy though, her real act was no where near done. Moaning, she fingered herself lightly as she pulled his now wet member into her mouth. Sharp teeth grazed against the sides as a warm sensation enveloped his thick cock within her maw. Drool slipped between her brown lips as she sucked deeply letting her tongue poke out to lick at his balls softly. The sweet scent of sex and heat rose from their bodies as Sid pulled away slowly, but to only force her head down quickly. Soon, her rhythm came into affect as she felt his large hands grope her breasts. No where near to climax, Sid moaned more as her hand was covered with her own flowing juices that seemed to never end with her. Keeping her now green eyes glued to Solomon's blue eyes, she smiled as she felt his cock twitch.

Solomon groaned loudly as the supple and bumpy tongue wrapped around his thick shaft. Sid was a master at what she did. Even though she was his first fuck and suck, she seemed to inherit a gift somehow. Pressure grew even more as he buckled up with excitement and started to breathe deeply as he could feel his balls starting to tighten ready to release his load at any moment. 

Suddenly, there came a loud groan then a quick roar of anger from a wild beast within the confines of the room. At an instant, Solomon looked up with fear to see a rather feral looking beast staring down at him with deep green eyes. Yet one eye was closed with hot white mess of his own seed dripping down the muzzle of the thing. Jet black and breathing deeply Sid growled deeply as she licked up a bit of the semen dripping from the side of her face then flicked her ears lightly. And with that, she pounced on Solomon to feast.



The Pack Ch. 01



As the head of the man on my left tit was pushed out of the way so the forth man could take a turn I dropped my head to the side to accept his kiss and willingly took his tongue in my mouth even showing my eagerness. Another voice reiterated that I was 'Loving it!' and not seeing any reason to argue of disguise the fact any longer I gave up totally any resistance and gradually let them see my arousal.

Why they didn't force me to go all the way I wouldn't know but by the end, when each man had sated his lust my body was splashed in sperm and I had held more than one cock in my hand.

"Can I have my clothes back now?" I had asked rather comically but nervously when the men regained their usual sneering attitude. "Give them back!" said one, "We've had our fun and taught her she can't mess with us."

"Just one more forfeit!" said the evil one, "Kneel down!"

He had to do it to show his power and enjoy making me submit to his fetish; but I dropped to the floor before him without quibble - and waited calmly.

The men muttered as the yellow liquid spilled out of his prick and down my body over my tits. I remained still letting him delight in his depravity and also for the others to marvel at my compliant behaviour -- that would tell them so much. He wanted me to submit to his dirty act -- so that is what I would do -- that is what I was willing to do -- far too willing! When the last drops flowed I was ordered to lift up my head, and open my mouth. My heart raced and I shivered -- but not from fear or revulsion -- but from the joy of submitting to this pack of depraved animals. I felt scared that the realisation of the truth was more disturbing than the act I was about to perform. I lifted my gaze, and as my eyes darted to each man in turn I felt the weird feeling take over -- and I opened my mouth. Would the men know -- would they sense how my submitting to these depraved and humiliating treatment was producing inside me an abnormal thrill? Would they know that, I liked it?

Time went on and I managed to maintain my composure when in the village and play the middle-class city housewife who was finding her way about and getting accustomed to living in the countryside. The work on our property had been completed and apart from attending and supporting various local events we mixed with few of the locals, save for shopkeepers and tradesmen who delivered. Our run in with the local workmen was known throughout the area but people ignored (with a knowing smile) the tense situations when, say, we ran into them in the pub. I often detected amusement on some faces when one or some of the men blocked my path and saw the fearful expressions on my face. To the locals we would always be outsiders and they would always ignore bad behaviour from their own kind.

Which explains the incident when the butcher made a call at my house one afternoon. I heard his van pull up and hurried outside to meet him. He was a big jovial man and I always spent time gossiping with him and sometimes I would offer him a refreshing drink. My smile this day turned to one of stony shock when I encountered his travelling companions -- two of the men -- 'The Pack'.

"Got a couple of extra passengers today!" the butcher said cheerfully, "Giving them a ride over the moor to town."

I tried to remain normal and unconcerned making conversation and responding in the way I usually would.

"Let's get this stuff inside for you," said the butcher eventually.

I turned and went ahead glad to get away from having the men stand and smirk at me intimidating me. Reaching the kitchen I turned around fully expecting to see the butcher carrying his parcels of meat. The man had the parcels all right, but it wasn't the butcher. I froze, trapped in the space between the large table and the kitchen worktop. The man put down the meat and trembling I began to pick up the parcels to place inside the fridge while I had time to prepare them for the freezer, ignoring the man and hoping and expecting that the butcher would soon make an appearance. Surely the men wouldn't dare try anything while the butcher was there?

Of course I was wrong, very wrong, as I realised when arms circled my waist and held me cupping my breasts.

"No, not here -- not now!"

My pleading was done in low desperate whispers as the man's intruding hands found their way under my clothes and my bra was tugged over my breasts so my nipples could be roughly pulled and rolled between fingers and thumb. His friend, the man claimed, would be keep the butcher busy as they needed to take a look at the vehicle's engine. He offered a deal, if I gave him a 'quick wank' he would leave me alone. There was time, he argued, the butcher was busy. In my mind I had taken comfort that because of the men's fear, and probably gratitude, that I had never called the police or exposed their behaviour that we had an unspoken agreement that no one would ever know what went on, that they would never divulge to anyone else what they had done to me. This was like breaking an agreement -- the butcher was almost in hearing distance. Anxious to maintain secrecy I decided to give the man what he wanted; when I heard the sound of his zip unfasten I placed my hand inside his pants and allowed him to pull up my top to bare my breasts. My hand began to work away furiously in an effort to bring this to an end. If letting the man pull up my skirt also to play inside my panties while he sucked my tits would excite him enough to make him quickly ejaculate then why not let him?

That then is what the butcher saw when he stepped into the kitchen. I, that polite and proper housewife he had come to know, was eagerly and enthusiastically masturbating a stiff cock while having her tits sucked and pussy fingered. Could I deny my compliance and apparent enjoyment when my head was cocked back and eyes closed, wrist going like a piston engine?

"What the Hell is going on here?" said the butcher in a low quiet disbelieving voice.

"We are all old friends," smirked the man with the butcher, "We enjoy similar things -- we provide her with a service too!"

My hand stopped shaking the stiff penis and alerted to my impending panic the man held me tight, still displaying my tits and with skirt bunched up around my hips.

"No -- it's not like that!" I cried wanting to explain my predicament to the butcher.

My mouth was covered with the man's, who, besides forcing his kiss on me, resumed rubbing my clit in full view of the tradesman.

"She's a bit shy," explained the other man, "Shocked that you've discovered her secret. Ask yourself, did she look like she was being forced or did she look like she was enjoying it?"

The butcher didn't answer but just stared unbelieving. He was urged to admire my tits and I heard him agree coyly that my nipples were magnificent. My arms were trapped against my side and I was helpless. Twice I briefly opened my eyes, the first time to see the butcher watching, licking his lower lip at the way my pussy was being stimulated and how my tits bounced to and fro. The second time was after the other had spoken.

"Come on," he had said quietly to the butcher, "Join in with us, we are going to have some fun with her."

My eyes opened, alarmed, to see the red-faced man taking off his tradesman's smock and with beads of sweat already on his forehead he was loosening his belt. I yelled out as he approached me turning away from the man forcing his kisses on me, I was held tighter, feeling that my panties were already being peeled down my thighs.

The two men laughed, this time at the butcher -- like they were surprised now.

"You don't waste much time!" I heard a voice say; "Now that's a fine piece of meat!"

I cried out even louder now and opened my eyes, realising what was about to happen. The sweaty man was between my legs and now my left leg had been lifted from the floor making it impossible for me to move and worse, forcing my vagina to open wide and make access easy. The 'pack' had always stopped short of sexual intercourse, nay, rape, but it seemed the butcher assumed it was part of the game. I jerked back as his cock penetrated me and loosing balance my hips went forward as my backside was allowed to rest against the edge of the table.

"See, she's wants it all -- told you she likes it!"

Unable to fight I stopped any effort to resist and tried to rationalise the fact that the butcher was fucking me in my kitchen while two men held me, sucking and mauling my tits. With my leg still held aloft while the sweaty man's thick cock (I had, in spite of my desperate situation noted it's girth!) pounded into me I had no choice but to hang on to the men. Suddenly I became conscious that my arms had been freed and unknowingly I had automatically placed them around the shoulders of the men, who, one at each side were supporting me as they played with a tit each.

Now I looked very compliant to the butcher who looked me in the eye as he stood ramming his dick into my pussy. I stared back at him, making him show visible signs that my lewdness was bringing him to his climax. I let my eyes dart over the scene, down, side to side, then back down to watch the thick wet penis pushing hard into my cunt -- I felt my hips begin to slowly push back and forth -- I was starting to respond, to feel pleasure. That odd feeling was taking over and welling up inside me.

Not only at the mercy of the predatory men but like putty in their hands I gave in completely. The butcher, who witnessed my submission grunted and gasped as he shot his load inside my hole before reeling back breathless. The way my eyes looked at his now semi-flaccid cock inflamed the other men who until now had been content to enjoy the butchers efforts while they played with my tits. Now I had been fucked -- and I still had my legs wide open, not struggling; surely I was waiting while they all took their turn?

"Let's take her upstairs!" said one.

Who was more surprised, the men or me, when I meekly walked with them, through the living room to the old oak staircase, and without persuasion mounted the stairs? Who was more surprised when, on entering the bedroom one man ordered me to kneel on the bed, arse in the air, because he said he wanted me 'doggy fashion' and I obliged him, even spreading my knees? Did I really need telling when the third man, impatient for his turn came to sit crossways near my face and ordered me to suck his cock? Was I too quick to obey, and eager to do a good job?

For an hour I was fucked, made to suck, and spanked while I bounced, straddling and slurping while my tits were nibbled bitten and stretched. There was something very dirty about having the red-faced butcher man spread his big thighs over my head and force me to take his thick dick down my throat while he looked down, and I looked up. Those pleasant jovial and innocent conversations between young housewife and middle-aged tradesman would never happen again. Or would we both pretend, when I walked into his shop and waited my turn to be served, that nothing had happened and would we chat, discussing the weather and what the best cuts of meat were on offer that week.

That picture was in my mind as for the second time that day he spilled his sperm into me, still not believing what his eyes told him when, keeping my gaze firmly fixed on him I put out my tongue and licked the still oozing cock. Does he get to this to other 'respectable' housewives I wondered? It almost seemed as though the evil 'Pack' had become pimps. Would this sort of thing happen again; would they 'introduce' other men into this surreal sexually depraved world? I stopped myself think about it. It was silly. Surely I would never let such things happen again!

An important consideration occurred to me though. The two men that afternoon would almost certainly let the other members of their pack know that now full sex had taken place -- that they had fucked me! It may be prudent, I reasoned, that to maintain the equilibrium, to prevent jealous members betraying the secret, causing all manner of trouble and ruining my reputation, for me to let them enjoy the same pleasure, should they wish -- and all would be equal.

I spelt it out, aloud almost, in my thoughts.

"If I should ever find myself cornered and alone with the pack of men I will have to be prepared, and submit to letting them fuck me."

Thinking that thought made me tremble, and invoked the power of that bizarre feeling and it was almost as though I knew it was bound to happen. Once again my 'other rational self' came to the fore reminding me that I could prevent anything happening ever again -- if I wanted to.



The Pack Ch. 02



One of the difficulties of living in the countryside is that being forced to use the facilities of the local village means that it becomes impossible to keep out of the way of people you wish to avoid. Certain folk learn your routines and habits. The housewives who have strayed or like to misbehave from time to time need to have a thick skin and no shame as, almost on a daily basis they come face to face with their lovers, often while in the company of their unsuspecting husbands.

I know that I'm not that shameless yet as I still tremble inside and feel fear when the men whom I named 'The Pack' pass us in the street as I go about my business or smirk at my husband and I from the bar in the pub.

There are other villages of course, and I have taken to travelling further afield or into the larger towns to shop, so avoiding confrontations. Steve refuses to be intimidated thinking that the antics of the men are caused merely by the disagreements he had with them when they worked on our property. I cannot insist that we stay away altogether without causing suspicion.

"Do you miss us?" whispered one of the men as I passed him the other day. "Do you ache for us?"

I had to tell Steve, my husband, that I preferred to try other stores, explore the villages and compare quality and prices. Particularly, I would avoid the butcher, no longer wanting the man to deliver to my door on a quiet afternoon.

It was while I was on one of those shopping expeditions in a nearby town that once again I fell into yet another bizarre situation. Hurrying to the car, loaded up with bags I almost ran into the arms of a man, not just any man, but one with such a familiar face, a member of the Pack. Two of my bags went spilling out onto the pavement.

A woman ought to be grateful when a man comes to her rescue - but not this woman, this time. I froze and stared at the grinning country yokel, not one who had 'visited' me with the butcher, thankfully.

"May I have my bags back please?" I asked staying calm.

His grin widened, "We're not going to start that again are we missus, not like when we took your coat and clothes in them woods!"

The thick country accent made him sound like a retard – perhaps it was because he seemed out of place amongst the hustle and bustle of a big town. I wasn't going to cause a scene in the middle of a busy street, or give the man the pleasure of seeing me upset; instead I tried to turn the tables on him.

"Come on then, I suppose walking behind me and carrying my bags for me probably shows your true capabilities – your vocation in life. Is that all you are worth?"

I sauntered along toward where my car had been parked expecting the man to either dump the bag or walk off stealing it though it seemed a small price to pay, and I would be rid of him.

"I'll buy you a coffee missus," he said.

"Look you animal!" I screamed as I turned to face him, "You and your pals have assaulted me, threatened me, and..." I stopped before I mentioned rape, "And you expect me to socialise with you and sit chatting, drinking coffee?"

The man smiled, "Yes," he answered.

"What sort of a fucking moron are you?"

The man lost his smile and looked forlorn, "I only wanted to buy you a coffee missus!" he said.

Suddenly, I felt in control. This pathetic man no longer seemed a threat. Could he really be one of the men who had humiliated me in the farmyard, who had laughed along with the others as one of their compatriots stood pissing over my body? He really was an animal in the sense that he had no social graces or neither understood common decency or acceptable behaviour. Should he not have become angry at my insults? What was it in me that compelled me to want to know more about this throwback?

"We'll take these bags back to the car first," I said quietly, watching him shuffle his feet like a naughty child.

He brightened up and smiled again, his big torso looming over me, taking more weight from my hands, his rough fingers grabbing the handles of the remaining shopping bags. Like a servant, slave even, the man silently walked behind me carrying my possessions.

"Do you and your friends treat all women like you did me?" I asked as we sat down inside a small café.

"You gave us signs ma'am," he replied as he watched me take off my coat, focusing on the tight v-neck top I wore that showed plenty of cleavage.

"Signs?" I asked incredulously, confused by his form of reply.

"That you like it – like men missus, even though you is married and that, you like some extra." 

I was lost for words, seeing no point in entering into an explanation or discussion of why I had not got these men locked up. More so any discussion would be essentially about my own sexuality – how would I answer this man's simple but direct questions that went right to the point? "So did you not like being pissed on?" he might ask!

There was a silence then, mainly due to the moron who munched on a large piece of cake. Watching him I almost felt pity wondering what this not unhandsome man might have become had he been educated and brought up in a more sophisticated environment, one superior to animal husbandry.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"George," he answered stretching out the first syllable. Then he threw me, "You have very nice tits missus, you causes a stirring in my loins you do!"

Shocked by his comment I could only give a laugh before scolding him, "George, you can't go about using such language. Do you not care what people think about you?"

"I've met most of the folks I'm ever likely to meet in these parts ma'am – and they already knows me and what I'm like."

What logic!

Hoping to God that no one I knew would walk into the place I quickly finished my coffee and even paid the bill.

"George, I must go now. After this I expect to be treated with a little more respect – tell your friends too. In fact, it's better if we all just ignore each other – things have gone far enough. My husband and I will not be bullied and pressured to leave – tell your friends that too!"

"I was hoping you wouldn't be leaving me to catch the bus back missus. As you is going to the same place I was hoping you would be friendly like and give me a ride back to the village."

There was no reason why I should have shown consideration to this man – but after a moments thought with a gesture of my hand I signalled that he should follow me out.

I know I should not have left off my coat while I drove; I knew how much cleavage was on display and that it might inflame the passions of this overgrown moron. In my very small saloon car I could almost feel his hot breath as his eyes wandered over my body. We had gone but a few miles when I felt his hand on my thigh.

"George, please take your hand away!" I said nervously but firmly.

The brute did take his hand away – but only to unfasten the zip on his pants.

My God, George!" I hissed between clenched teeth, "What the hell are you doing?"

It was too late now to stop him as from the corner of my eye I snatched a glimpse of a very thick pole, stiff and pointing up in the air, the top a red bulbous swelling that forced back the wrinkled skin.

"I is just looking at you missus – just pleasing myself while I admire your delicate soft skin."

I turned to look for as long as I dared take my eyes off the road to see his fingers clasped around the shaft, slowly pulling the loose skin back and forth. The situation seemed unbelievable, driving along the carriageway, while beside me a man, a dubious stranger, who had already been one of a group who had sexually assaulted me, sat exposing his penis, masturbating. My requests for him to desist went unheard, him blaming me for 'causing the stirring in his loins'.

I tried to concentrate on the driving and maintain my cool.

"Bet this is bigger than your husband's missus," he gloated, "This would fill you up, give you satisfaction. Bet it could make you scream for more! Has you always had to look for other men to fuck you proper missus?"

"I don't – I haven't!" I told him.

"You are what they call 'in denial' I think. There's no one else here to see you enjoy my big rod missus, if you so fancy."

His hand again felt my inner thigh and I snapped my knees together before he reached my crotch. That did not stop him from folding up the hem of my skirt, to show just an inch of gusset.

"George, please stop!" I said calmly.

"I is just looking missus," he answered quietly, leaving his hand on my upper legs.

I needed to concentrate on the road now, as the traffic was fast and busy. Maybe he would be content with what he had and spare me further anxiety – I would let him alone, to feel my thighs and masturbate.

"George, don't do anything else – I need to concentrate on the traffic."

We would be turning off the main highway soon, and on the country lane I would be able to stop and insist he get out. His big finger was trying to find it's way between my closed thighs, managing to touch the very top of my vaginal slit – a place that for me like most women is very sensitive.

"Yes, missus, I see how you keep looking to watch my cock swell up – do you like it missus, do you want to hold it?"

"George, no...!" I broke off the sentence thinking what was the point of reasoning with the man.

It is impossible to drive an old vehicle like mine, one with a manual gearbox – with thighs tightly clasped. Approaching the turn-off it was necessary to operate the clutch, pressing my leg forward and releasing the pedal – letting the big rough finger massage my vagina, gain better access, the movement of my hips and thighs were doing most of the work, creating sexual feelings. Now there was a 'stirring in my loins' too!

"You like that missus? That's okay – you enjoys yourself!"

"George – stop it!" I shouted to no avail.

The narrow country road was winding with no space to stop safely, feet moved over pedals, pressing, fingers moved over now damp panties, pushing cloth into slit. I was stunned and confused – why didn't I just stop here and demand he get out? 

There was a red light ahead – road works, temporary traffic lights, those infuriating things that make you stop even when no vehicles are coming the opposite way. I slowed and pressed my foot on the clutch reaching out for the gear stick. The gear stick was hot and thick, with wetness over the swollen head. George had most delicately guided my hand that bit further to grip not the plastic topped metal of the expected device but his own stiff shaft, holding my fingers in place, sliding my hand down to hold him around the girth – to masturbate him.

"Please, don't do this!" I said desperately as he held my hand firmly, encouraging the movements.

The car had stopped now at the red light and George returned his spare hand back to my crotch to tickle and probe around the hem of my panties.

"Just enjoy it missus," he whispered.

My eyes could not help but focus on his cock then between my own legs – we were sat mutually masturbating each other. I murmured, sobbed, made some strange, but what I imagined were sounds appropriate for a poor damsel in distress but felt guilt from knowing that I was not bothering to struggle too hard. What caused a start were the loud piercing hoots of a horn from an impatient driver who unbeknown had crept up behind, the light having turned to green, he was anxious to get on his way.

"If you want to fornicate pull off the fucking road!" shouted the man as he pulled past us.

"That's fair enough," laughed George as I frantically slipped the car in gear, "We'll have to pull off the road."

"No George, we won't!" I growled, driving off before the lights decided to change back to red.

My skirt was still bunched up round my waist and George's cock swayed to and fro as I negotiated the bends looking for a place to stop and dump him at the side of the road. It wasn't ideal but a small grassy verge seemed just about big enough to stop without causing unnecessary attention. I could have simply stopped and screamed – but then I would have to explain so much to many people, especially my husband; our reputation would be ruined – George and his pals didn't care about theirs.

Pulling up sharply I turned to the big man.

"Right, get out, now!" I snarled.

He straightened up, undid his seat belt. Was it going to be as easy as this? Was he going to go quietly? Sure, he did seem sheepish, disappointed, and sulky even, like a spoiled kid curling his bottom lip.

The true response came fast and furious as he lurched over my body that was still restricted by my seat belt. A hand grabbed my hair turning my head to face my attacker though I had no time to focus as his mouth covered mine, his tongue forcing its way past my lips. Now I felt the belt slacken and heard the tinkle of the metal buckle but there was no freedom as the act was done solely to make it able to lift up my top and uncover my breasts.

"Now you be a good girl for me; I has other things to do today beside give you a good fucking! Hold my cock – wank it for me!"

This was the other George – not the simple minded giant without social graces – the brute, the bully, who uses his strength to get his own way – to demand, like an animal, that his sexual appetite be quenched – a woman, in his eyes, has one use only. I submitted to his will.

"That's better," he said when he knew I had lost the will to fight, "Don't know why you bother struggling and complaining when another man's cock is what you crave. Your husband isn't enough for you then?"

Should I tell him what he wants to hear? Will that make him 'cum' quickly – then he'll let me go home? I thought many things, pondered on many different options. It seemed better to fake enthusiasm, to compliment him. My hand was eagerly pulling on his foreskin.

"Do you like big cock's missus?" he whispered, lewdly.

"Yes!" I answered, breathless with fear, though he thought it passion.

"Your husband doesn't do enough for you then?"

"No!" I whispered, as he unclipped my bra and groped my tits.

"What do you like – tell me?" he asked between sucking in my nipple then plunging his hand down my panties.

"I like lots of cock – other men – with big dicks – I like to be fucked."

"What about sucking?" he whispered, "Sucking cock?"

My stomach turned, I knew what was coming next; but what could I do?

"Yes, " I said softly, lowering my head before he hurt me by forcing me down.

The bulbous head seemed bigger now I had to accommodate it in my mouth and I had to open wide to take it in. Licking underneath to relieve the aching of my lower jaw my nose took in the musky aroma of a rough working man, mixed with the salty taste of drops of pre-cum that leaked from the tiny hole. I should not have been finding this experience erotic or arousing but maybe it was the big hand that had reached over me tugging up my skirt so one of those thick fingers could alternately invade my pussy and then, when wet and lubricated could find its way up my anus. If it wasn't the finger fucking then maybe it was just the way I am, submissive, finding pleasure from being forced into these dirty acts, from being dominated. Taste the sweat; lick the dirty dick, breath in the odour of stale piss, prepare to take his fluid in my mouth, to swallow it down. Wasn't this the true reason why I had willingly spent the best part of the day with this monster? 

My arse moved rhythmically against his fingers while my hand pumped hard, my lips sucking. Just then the passing vehicles brought me back to reality.

"Oh God!" I cried, shooting up straight, "Someone will recognise the car – no, I can't do this!"

It seemed George possessed some sort of rationality and compassion.

"Start the car up and drive down the road," he ordered.

I hurriedly adjusted my clothes and sobbing moved off. We drove for no more than a few minutes.

"Turn off just here," he instructed.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked alarmed.

He laughed, "You mean where are you taking me?" he said, "You are doing what you promised to do – I live down this lane – you are giving me a ride home."

The bastard lived less than a quarter of a mile from where we had stopped! I could have kicked myself, as it seemed that if I hadn't have stopped on the road invoking his anger by telling him to get out then within minutes he would have been home and probably have got out peacefully.

"You come on inside," he said as the car pulled to a stop.

His dick still dangled outside his trousers making me fear of what acts he would be capable of should he trap me inside his ramshackle house.

"I need to go home George!" I pleaded.

Telling him to fuck off or dismissing him would not work – he would only become angry and drag me inside.

"Come inside for a few minutes – you can see my mother."

He gave one of his smiles that showed him to be a retard. Mother? Maybe I would be safe, as he surely wouldn't sexually assault me in the presence of his mother?

"Just for a minute then," I agreed.

George put his cock away – which was a good sign.

The musty dismal rooms had a depressing air about them. The hallway, led to a creaky door beyond what was the main living room. Glancing around the dark dusty furniture and well-worn carpets it lacked evidence that a woman resided there.

"Mother is upstairs," George told me. "Is she bedridden?" I enquired sympathetically, hoping to keep George in a soft gently mood.

He gave a strange giggle, "You might say that missus, come and see her."

Every step creaked as I climbed the staircase, my heart thumping, feeling uneasy. We reached a dark landing with several closed doors either side. George, walking behind me held my waist and turned me toward the farthest door reaching over to the handle. Pushing the door open he gently pushed me inside the room. Looking around what must have been the master bedroom, at least when the house had been at its best I noticed the heavy curtains and old wooden furniture, noting the large old fashioned bedstead placed against the side wall. A large mirror was opposite, fastened to the brickwork; there was no sign the room had been recently occupied.

"George, there is no one here!" I said, rather obviously and with a growing feeling of unease.

The big man giggled, "Yes, there she is – on the dresser."

His hands, which had remained on my hips, were already moving to my front, rising up to my breasts; he pulled me back against his body, letting me know his cock was hard.

There was his mother true enough – in the sepia toned ragged photograph in a broken frame, a picture of a good-looking young woman, George's mother when she was young. Now my body trembled as I felt like I was in the company of Norman Bates, not the set of the film 'Psycho' but the real thing. I hoped a little psychology would make George behave.

"Your mother wouldn't like this George – she wouldn't want you to do this."

He unclipped my bra and with his hands under my top gripped both my breasts, "She's dead!" he whispered, "She can't complain!"

I was pushed toward the bed, lost for words knowing any attempt to reason or rationalise with this man would be fruitless. In seconds I was naked above the waist, with George admiring, groping and mauling my breasts, sometimes kissing or sucking on a nipple. He had made me face him almost side-on, so my hand could easily close around his big shaft that he had pulled from his pants. It was surely best, safest, to go along with his wishes so I slowly drew his foreskin back and forth, masturbating him.

"George, what are going to do, you must promise not to hurt me?" I told him.

"I don't want to hurt you missus, " he said, almost sounding hurt and insulted at the suggestion. "I just want to fuck you before you goes home. You can enjoy yourself, get what your husband can't give you – have George's big cock inside you, pleasure you missus."




The Pack Ch. 02



The man's hand moved up my skirt and inside my panties, making circular movements against my clit. Where did this moron, this retard, learn his techniques? 

"No one will know missus, we can do dirty things and no one will know, do the things that excite you missus, make you feel good in ways your husband can't do."

George kissed me hard and passionately, panting for breath.

"I know what you like missus – you like things a married woman ought not to. I knows cause I see it in you, like my mother – when the men came – George watched, he knew the look in her eyes."

Commanded to take off my knickers I turned away from him wondering why the hell I was willingly obeying him. Naked now except for my skirt I turned to see that George too had disrobed. Save for his open shirt, his big thick rod bobbing up and down. He made me stand in front of him holding it in both hands, massaging the foreskin and rubbing his wrinkly scrotum, while he reached out playing with my tits.

"It is clean missus – I bathes regular, mother always taught me that a man can't expect a woman to pleasure his dick if it's not clean."

George, are you telling me that you and your mother, well...played around together?" I had to ask.

"Sometimes in the depth of winter mother got no visitors – she would get restless like – and there was only George here."

I wanted to ask many more questions, like what about his father, and almost forgot about the perils of my situation.

"You come nearer now missus, and climb up on Georges dick."

Before I knew what was happening he lifted me bodily from the floor and gently lowering me impaled me on his rigid cock, making me almost instinctively wrap my legs around his waist while he held on to me cupping his large hands under my bottom.

"George will bounce you up and down on his cock," he said, once again referring to himself in the third person.

Looking me straight in the eye he commenced with a gentle slow movement, slowly gaining momentum, penetrating my hole deeper each time my body lowered. Mesmerised I gazed back at him seeing the look of sheer depraved lust, sexual enjoyment. The tips of my nipples rubbed against his hairy chest, the friction was stimulating. I wanted to plunge down, all the way down, on his rod, take it all up inside my vagina.

The big man grinned and bit my neck under my ear sending ripples of delightful sexual sensations throughout my entire body. He had said that no one would know what we did, said I could enjoy a good fuck and no one would know. Surely, if it came out I could always deny and dismiss the tale as the wild imaginations of a retard; which one of us were people likely to believe? George was bouncing me faster now, occasionally nipping my tits between his teeth before licking with his rough tongue.

I moaned when his cock went deep inside and when he moved his hands it was rubbing in just the right place.

"Do you like George's cock?" he asked, grinning at my flushed red perspiring face.

I stared back at him, conscious of the fact that he already knew the answer; I felt I should be honest.

"I like what it is doing!" I hissed loudly catching my breath.

Turning ninety degrees George held me tight as he flopped back onto the bed, his cock remaining inside me. Pushing my body upright I was now straddling him, cock buried all the way up my cunt. Using his hands to motivate me he began a jolting movement.

"Ride me missus – you do the work, while I watch them fine tits bounce – you have yourself a good fuck!"

I stopped reasoning, thinking, and proceeded to do just that!

"That's it missus, ride me!" he grunted.

There was a moment of resistance and anxiety when George asked me if I 'take it up the arse'. I flopped down on him whispering that he was far too big anyway and he had promised not to hurt me. For a minute he lay pondering, passing the time by curling a forefinger in my hole which itself felt like a small cock; the curl of the finger, and the spot it hit gave me great pleasure. I moaned and purred though knew it was safer for my arse if George's thick dick was up my pussy.

Accepting his kiss I slid my lips away to whisper in his ear, "Try the finger in my arse George – put your cock back in my cunt."

Fully filled by his dick I purred and wriggled my hips; the already wet digit positioned against my anus easily gained entry up my back passage – now I was doubly penetrated, the big finger feeling even more like a penis. We wriggled and jerked and bounced and rode and moaned and swore and squealed. I was amazed to reach orgasm first then gripped the man's hair, orgasm coming again when I felt his sperm shoot copious jets of hot jism up my tubes; my anal ring tightened around his finger.

We did not hear the intruders – see the audience arrive.

I was happily slurping on the shaft as it relaxed from its stiffness showing George what a dirty adulterous wife I could be by sucking from cock to the forefinger that had been in my arse, watching his delight, grinning at him as I licked.

"That fence of yours won't repair itself George," snapped a voice. "Hope you don't expect us to do all the work while you spend the afternoon enjoying yourself with the lady."

"Fuck!" What time is it?" George hollered.

I was mortified and wanted the earth to swallow me up, before me stood what I considered to be the entire gang of feral, uncouth louts – 'The Pack'. What was the point of demanding they give me privacy while I dressed? What was the point in trying to push past them and flee from the room? What was the point in speaking? There was none. I could only sheepishly stand and move to where my bra, my panties and top lay on the floor.

"Sorry to spoil your party ma'am but we has work to do." I saw them smirk and chuckle as they watched my naked tits wobble as I shuffled past them.

"Nice to see you again," said another man, "Didn't know you had taken George on as a lover. We'll keep quiet about it," he smirked.

"You been enjoying that big cock of his miss?"

"He's not my lover!" I protested, turning to them as I hid my breasts in the cups of my bra.

"Do you want a handkerchief ma'am – to wipe away that stuff around your mouth?"

The others grinned and stared toward me.

"No, you just wanted some of that big cock. It's okay miss, we understand. Husbands aren't enough sometimes – but we won't tell. You're not the only lady in the village who has a hunger for fresh cock every once and awhile." 

They watched me dress, gloating when I picked up my panties and slipped them on pulling them up around my waist. No point in being coy now they had seen me sucking and fucking, my arse stuck up in the air.

"Now don't let us rush you miss, you go in the bathroom and tidy up proper. Don't want you getting caught out by your husband do we? You go and wash George's fluids and smells from your body now."

Ashamed and humiliated I suffered the stares and the smirks of the men, forced to beg that they move aside to let me pass when I was ready to go.

"Drive carefully missus!" they cried after me.



The Pack Ch. 03



They were ultra polite, the men -- 'The Pack'- whenever we ran into them. Behind the smiles, the false gestures, I saw something my husband could not possible see, the evilness, the gloating. I wondered if they planned at some future point to blackmail me over my dalliance with George, who remained most civil, almost regretful that we had been discovered.

In the local pub even the landlord's wife had noticed an uneasy atmosphere.

"Have you and the boys got on the wrong side of each other?" she asked me in hushed tones when I stood at the bar one evening. "I know your husband had a problem with the work but that's history now sweetheart. We don't go in for long feuds around here. Hey, but if some of them have let their hands wander a few times or come on to you then that's their way of having a bit of harmless amusement. You don't want to let that worry you -- in fact, it can be fun sometimes, if you know what I mean; a quick touch up and kiss round the back of the building, you know? We have to make our own entertainment around here."

I had laughed in the right places assuring her all was well though I got the impression she knew more than was healthy. My husband was more relaxed now the antagonism he felt toward the men had been resolved but wondered, like the landlady, why the problem was still with me.

"Try passing the time of day with them," my husband had suggested, "Break down barriers, we all have to live around here."

He could never have guessed what words were exchanged or passed as conversation on the times he sat in the bar watching me walk toward the narrow corridor of the pub on my way to the ladies room. He would have seen the smiling faces of members of 'The Pack' presuming we were exchanging pleasantries, maybe commenting on the weather.

"You getting that itch between your legs again yet ma'am -- yearning for the chance to have a big cock satisfy your needs?"

I almost was becoming immune to the insults and lewd suggestions, which of course were designed to make me feel bad, flustered and upset; and frighten me.

To all intents and purposes I would be stood chatting to two or three men, passing the time of day.

"Why can't any of you just find a woman of your own and settle down like normal men do?"

They laughed when I said that.

"You talks to us about normal missus, you a decent married lady who from time to time likes to attract other men? Have you forgotten missus, how you used to flirt and exhibit yourself for us when we worked over at your place? When you lifts up your glass miss, drinking that shit beer they call lager, does that yellow liquid trickling down your throat not remind you of anything you did in the woods -- with some of us here you call abnormal? Ought we remind you missus of when we watched you pushing back your arse against George's finger while his big cock was up your cunt? How you loved it missus! Tell us again what you city folk think is normal then?"

"Just leave us alone will you?"

"We ain't doing anything wrong miss, we are pleasant with you and your husband like good neighbours ought to be; all our past disagreements have been forgotten. We are happy to see you getting involved in village life -- fitting in with us. But just remember missus, when you feel the need -- we are here!"

There was one night in the pub when an argument broke out between some regulars and a man, who, like us was an incomer from the city, though he had lived there for some time. It seemed these arguments were started to provide entertainment, insults being traded and it was sometimes difficult to tell the difference between what was meant to be fun, and when it was on the brink of getting out of control. The verbal insults had begun, the jousting, the contest had commenced.

"We country folk would survive in a crisis 'cause we have skills like knowing how to hunt and live off the land -- catch fish and all that. City folk would be lost and not know what to do."

"Bullshit!" cried out Simon, the city man, "You stupid bastards would kill yourselves eating contaminated meat -- what if the animals and fish were affected too? Believe me, by the time you came into the cities looking for processed food from the big stores we city dwellers would have already moved and secured it all."

As more customers gathered around our corner of the pub either to listen or join in the debate it became impossible for bodies not to touch each other. I hadn't noticed that two members of the pack who had been very vocal, had now closed in, and to give them better access to Simon, room had been made for them -- either side of me! Now they sat on stools close to me with Steve almost opposite.

"So you think we are quite dim then -- us country folk?" 

"Certainly you're not as wily as you make out to be," replied Simon. "City folk could easily pick up what skills you have if they needed to."

"Right!" said the pack member Billy, "We're not bright enough to get one over on you city folks."

A hand, under the table had crept up my thigh. I immediately snapped my knees together. Trying not to show shock I used my glass to cover my face alarmed that someone would see and all hell would break loose with Steve fighting the men. It was hard to keep my legs shut tight preventing the hand from sliding up my inner thigh while trying to prevent the other hand, which belonged to Billy's mate from working it's way up my outer thigh.

At first I wondered why no one had noticed and was astounded by the audacity of the men who, in such public a place had the nerve to fondle another man's wife! I soon realised that because one side was sheltered by the wall and due to the crowded corner, no one actually had much of a view of anything going on because too many bodies were in the way.

"So we isn't crafty enough, or bright enough or capable of fooling any of you city folks -- we is too simple?"

Billy's mate kept repeating the insults and accusations of Simon making him sound as though the man was right after all and he agreed with him.

"See!" said Simon seizing an opportunity to reinforce his point, "You sound like a stuck record, repeating your self and sounding like a half-wit!"

The crowd laughed. No one noticed the two hands up my skirt. Keeping calm I managed to smile in the right places and even laughed out loud with others, as though nothing was amiss. The men argued and should anyone have grown suspicious as to why either of the men had hands under the table they began to alternate, with Billy caressing my thigh and trying to worm a finger down between the top of my tightly clasped legs then withdrawing it as Edward, his friend, took over. Each man would have both hands in view every other minute and no one would be any the wiser or notice that I was being fondled -- right in front of my husband. Simon was wrong; these men were capable of being very crafty and very devious.

Eventually the people around grew tired of the so-called debate but most stayed put with small groups talking and joking amongst themselves. The fingers gently explored and prodded, and it was becoming a battle of minds, which of us could break first, the men or I. Then it seemed to change, for me at least but I think also for the men, their touch was not forceful, their faces didn't show the same malevolence. We didn't intentionally catch each others eye and our conversation was directed to others around the table, including my husband, but the weirdness of the situation was making me feel a strange thrill.

The fingers had also managed to tickle and touch the very top edge of my vagina, stimulating me in a way that was wrong. I suddenly realised that, with all the shifting and moving, plus with the fact that I had grown quite used to the fingers being where they were and lost my sense of exasperation, that I was beginning to feel more relaxed.

My husband had gone to the bar for a round of drinks, so too had the men. As they came to sit back down Steve passed me my glass, I reached forward, half standing to take it from his hand, the men squeezed back onto their stools at the same time. When I balanced, lowering myself onto my seat through necessity, I had spread my feet a little -- and as I sat a hand was there between my legs, just slightly touching my slit.

"Is that drink okay?" Steve shouted across the table over the chatter.

"It's fine," I shouted back, smiling, then with a rapidly beating heart I relaxed even more -- and let my knees, and my thighs -- fall apart.

Now I needed to join in the conversation, or appear that I was, to disguise the fact that Billy now had two fingers inside my wet vagina, and was playing expertly with my clit. Edward had figured out what was happening and for a second, as I lifted my glass to take a sip our eyes met. His look was questioning, curious, as to what I would do in the next seconds when his hand would want to take over. I knew that one hand was about to replace the other and exaggerated my interest in the subject of the conversation, laughing just a little louder than I would have normally. I felt Billy's hand withdraw slowly as he too joined in the chat making appear all was normal and regular. I took a sip and patted my upper chest clearing my throat, shifting my hips slightly and opening my legs -- letting Edwards fingers creep inside my knickers.

I was wet; being fingered while sat amongst a crowd, feeling those rough hands inside my panties made me thrilled and aroused. At one point Steve leaned forward speaking to me and gave me a quick kiss as my body too bent forward. My husband whispered, asking if I was enjoying myself and I answered yes, feeling those rough thick digits push further up my hole. From the sides of my eye I saw both men smirk.

It had to come to an end as people were leaving and we were more exposed. Hot and flustered I needed to get out for a minute not least to satisfy the urge to piss. Without drawing attention to myself I signalled to Steve my intention and slipped away. Reaching the narrow passageway leading to the ladies room I took a deep breath as my brain took in the amazing act I had just let happen. Behind me I heard the busy chatter of other giddy women who I assumed were on the same quest as I was.

When I hurried into the ladies room and heard the door swing open again I didn't bother turning but felt something was odd as the chatter should have been louder. Walking into a cubicle and about to turn to close the door I felt a pressure on my back and saw the shadows of two large men block the light. Inside with me were Billy and Edward -- and in behind them but unaware of their presence were the two chattering women who it seemed had made a small diversion, so clinching my fate.

Stood still and once again shocked I was frightened the women would realise what was going on. Not daring to move I trembled as, squashed with Edward at my side and Billy at my front I looked up at their devilish faces, feeling the buttons of my shirt being undone and my skirt being slid up my to my waist. Hearing the giggling gossip of the women I was helpless and could only watch as Edward slowly unzipped his fly taking out his almost fully erect cock then placing his hand on my wrist to guide my fingers to wrap around his shaft. Billy allowed himself a smile as he lowered my knickers slightly pulling the gusset to one side.

The silly women took a long time, hovering, preening gossiping while I was slowly and systematically being touched, sexually abused, with Billy opening my shirt to admire and play with my tits over my bra and Edward working my hand over his foreskin while he played inside my pants with his spare hand. Both men sported hard dicks, rampant and impatient to get inside my cunt.

Billy kissed my neck and lips then as the women left I whispered loudly and firmly. "The only reason I haven't screamed is so not to cause trouble -- you'll have to get out! I need to pee!"

Billy hushed me by placing his finger over my mouth as the door was heard to open again. More women had entered and we needed to be quiet. Billy saw that as an opportunity to put that same finger into my mouth and move it back and forth making me seem as though I was sucking a small dick, I dared not resist. We had to be very quiet -- Edward was peeling down my panties, about to take them off altogether. They gently pushed me back to straddle over the porcelain; the purpose was clear -- if I needed to piss, then piss!

The women gossiped and giggled, the men waited watching, touching. Edward played with my clit parting my labia, waiting for me to empty my bladder and both men occasionally kissed me -- and because of Edward touching my clit I was starting to feel like kissing them back. The door went, the women left -- and I needed to take that piss. My lips opened for Billy when he began to kiss me; and I began to empty my bladder. My hand worked without any help on Edwards foreskin.

Billy's tongue licked inside my mouth, but then mine explored his. The sound of my piss splashing into the bowl excited me and the men looked to watch too. Edward kissed me, Billy kissed me again and in between I whispered.

"You must promise never to tell anyone or use this against me!"

They didn't answer; I wanted fucking. Taking hold of Billy's dick I pulled it and him close to my hole, Edward helped me balance and held me, gripping my breasts as I spread my legs to take Billy's dick inside my cunt. The time we spent inside there was not all that long; but women came and went. When the door opened we would slow down, giving us time to look at each other while we fucked, me with one hand wrapped around Edward's cock, Billy inside me; we would lick tongues, like erotic snakes. Then, when the place was empty we would thrust against each other fucking hard and enthusiastically. 

Edward knew about George and I, he had watched. Before long a moistened finger was up my arse thrusting away. Then the door went again and I heard my name called out.

"Susan?" called the landlady, "Are you alright -- Steve asked me to come and check?"

My voice faltered, "Yeah, I'm okay, I just felt a bit queasy, probably drank too fast -- be right out."

It was as though she suspected something, "Right, well don't be too long, he may come himself and make sure."

The situation was urgent and time was limited -- at that stage none of us wanted to go away unsatisfied. We fucked hard and I was almost feeling sorry for Edward that he would never get chance to fuck me properly -- not that night anyway. I wasn't shy of showing my delight when hot sperm filled my cunt then, from Edward, the palm of my hand. We didn't talk or hang around. As I reappeared in the public bar cleaned up but flushed Steve accepted my explanation and it was time anyway for us to go home.

It was hard for me to come to terms with myself realising that once again I had shown such enthusiasm and willingness for sex with members of 'The Pack'.

The villagers, like the landlady of the pub had made clear, were not without their share of promiscuous women. Steve had attracted the attention of several young wives and one particular sex-starved teenager of nineteen whom always seemed to appear when he was in the village.

"You can talk!" he fired back at me when I brought the subject up, "You pretend you don't like all those guys but I've seen the way you look at some of them. Anyway," he joked, "Glad I can still pull good looking young women!"

I joked too, "She'd eat you alive -- have you seen how short her skirts are -- and those low cut tops! Oh dear, silly me -- of course you have -- you develop a limp! Not sure you could manage her Steve!"

He grabbed hold of me.

"And you think you could handle those big farmer types? Wouldn't they be a bit too rough for you, ripping your knickers off? How many could you handle before you begged for mercy?"

We were both starting to feel aroused. I whispered in his ear

"Do you think their cocks are as big as their hands and feet? Maybe about four or five - or two groups of three!"

"You dirty arrogant sexy bitch!" he joked, unfastening my skirt.

I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.

"How quickly could you recover after servicing that young wench -- she'd want more than you could give her in one go?"

My husband whispered in my ear as he entered me, "I'd enjoy myself trying!" he said, "What about you?"

"Who knows?" I replied, "I may find out one day!"

"Do you sometimes wonder -- about other men I mean -- what it would be like?"

I felt honest, "Yes, sometimes I look and wonder. How about you?"

My husband was very excited and aroused.

"Let's go up stairs!" he said.

Steve said later that our lovemaking session had been one of the best; he seemed intrigued and wondered if our talking about, and imagining, having sex with other people might have provided that extra stimulation.

"I wonder if you'd easily give in to temptation if the chance came along?" he said.

The possibility seemed to excite rather than worry him.

During the winter months I made a point of staying out of the way, not leaving myself open to the attention of members of 'The Pack'. Our evenings spent in the village pub were confined mainly to weekends, preferring instead the warmth of our cottage and the log fire rather than trek out down to the village in the driving rain and wind.

Apart from the weather two little incidents had made me wary. One evening in the village pub the landlady, who now seemed to accept me as one of the locals, the change in attitude signified by the fact she now called me by my first name Susan rather than refer to me as missus, or ma'am, gave me a knowing look when one of the men passed by and she saw us exchange glances.

"I'd swear there's something between you two!" she said, winking her eye, "Told you there's lots of flirting goes on around here. Wouldn't be surprised if you two had indulged in a bit of 'slap and tickle' around the back." She stared, waiting for a response that wasn't forthcoming.

"You'd not be the first, nor the last!" she said.

There seemed no sense in feeding the gossips; I was horrified by the thought she might learn more.

The week before that however, I was off on a trip to town to deal with some business for Steve. Having called at a couple of places in the village first I turned onto the main road leading to town passing the bus stop; George stood waiting in the damp morning air. I had been grateful for one thing from him -- that he had never pursued or pestered me after our encounter or neither had he tried to use it against me, ridiculing me in front of his friends. It was stupid of me but I felt I owed him a favour, feeling sorry for the simple man who could not drive, standing forlornly, huddled up clutching his small bag.

"If you're going into town I'll give you a lift," I said, winding down the window.

George was grateful and polite, not giving any trouble. We reached town and though I expected him to pester me to go for a coffee or perhaps suggest he meet me later for lunch he simply thanked me and went on his way. Calling him back I asked how long he would be in town; the bus ran every hour until five in the afternoon.

"I think I will be here 'till late afternoon missus -- hope to make the four 'o clock bus."

"Well, I'm not sure how long I'll be here -- but I'll look out for you when I pass the bus shelter."

He had behaved on the incoming journey, it seemed right to offer him a lift back.

Maybe, after my errands were complete I found excuses to hang around. I kept getting flashbacks of our last journey and its consequences. In my subconscious a plan was hatching, not so much as a plan but a hope, a desire. It was three forty-five and from across the busy street I spotted George, sauntering along to wait for the bus clutching two little bags. The light was already fading on that dull winter's day; by the time we reached the village it would be impossible to see the occupants of a vehicle on a country lane. I was not so much worried about any villager, or even Steve -- I would be seen as being neighbourly -- as long as we weren't seen by members of 'The Pack' who would have more bullets to fire, more ridicule to pour on me.




The Pack Ch. 03



I went to the car that was parked nearby, intending to cruise past George and say I was merely there on the off chance. Pulling into the traffic I glanced down to make sure the side slit on my long skirt showed enough thigh -- enough to arouse George, get him interested. I had no intention of spending time back at his place but mentally I was already recalling those secluded turn offs on the road home. George liked my tits, so some buttons, not too many, would be left undone.

"Get in George, lucky I spotted you." I leant over as I opened the door showing George the view, right down the front of my top.

We left the town; George spoke quietly in reply to my effort to chat, his eyes lingering on my body. Soon we were near the place I intended to stop, little traffic passed us. My heart was beating faster knowing that I was about to make the first move. I told George that I thought I owed him a favour and thanked him for not using our encounter to gain advantage.

"It's okay, missus, don't have to tell them everything. They don't tell me when you goes with them."

His comment threw me a little.

"I don't 'go' with them often George. Sometimes though, I do like to have some excitement, some pleasure -- but you know that."

I slowed the car right down.

"Have I made you feel excited George?" I asked, drawing his attention to my exposed thighs.

George grinned, "What do you think?"

He placed his hand over his bulging trousers.

"Shall I stop the car George -- would you like that?"

The sound of his zip being drawn down was answer enough. We were just a few hundred yards from the lay-by and George was already displaying his big dick for me, pulling back the foreskin. As I drove into the clearing at the edge of the narrow lay-by and switched off the engine, George was running a hand up my thigh, along the open slit and under my skirt. On this occasion I was happy to let him and watching his gleeful smile I began to unfasten the rest of the buttons of my blouse, pulling it open to show the man my breasts.

My feeling of excitement was immense, thinking of the sheer immorality, the thrill of adultery, knowing what I was going to encourage with this giant of a moron, this animal.

"Let's get in the back George, there's more room."

I slipped over the seat while George got out to take his place. By the time he was sitting next to me I had already slid a bra strap from my shoulder and was about to bare both my tits for him.

"Suck them for me," I whispered. I was dying for the feel of his cock but restrained my lust.

George licked and sucked my tits; several times I lifted his head to hungrily kiss his rough face, pushing my tongue into his mouth. Grabbing his hand I forced it between my legs and helped his fingers find their way inside my knickers to play with my wet cunt. 

"George," I whispered, "I know you don't get too many girlfriends -- so if you're good, and promise never to tell, I'll make a deal with you."

"I don't missus -- I have my magazines, like the ones in my bag here I bought today. Have to make do with them mostly." 

"If you tell anyone you will spoil a good thing, George. Make me a promise and do things my way, then, from time to time, I'll be like those women in the magazines -- you will be able to have sex with me -- would you like that George?"

He of course said yes by which time my mouth was trying to swallow the length of his thick penis.

"Do you promise George?" I asked coming up for air.

"Yeah, I do!" he answered eagerly.

I scrambled over his knee, straddling his lap, taking his cock in hand and guiding it into my hole. Placing a nipple in his mouth I asked him to bite gently on it and began to rotate my hips, pressing my pelvic bone against his, his cock buried deep inside.

"Fuck me George!" 

Really I fucked him, grinding away, bouncing on his cock. What a dilemma, whether to take his sperm inside my twat or taste it in the back of my throat; the 'dirty me' wished to drink his jism. As he began to explode I slipped down and caught his cock between my lips, sucking and swallowing; his cock was thick and long and later, though slack, would still bring me to orgasm when I rubbed my pussy against it.

All would have gone to plan and the situation would have been good; had not that one particular vehicle come along at that precise moment. I had crept to the edge of the lay-by and about to pull on the lane a pick-up appeared out of nowhere and caught us both in its headlights. George knew, as it slowed to a stop before speeding off that two of the men I knew as 'The Pack' had discovered our secret.

The inevitable had happened. "See you are still dating George missus!" sniggered a voice when I went to the village.

Yes, it would definitely be a good idea to keep a lower profile for a while. Though I felt disappointment for if we had not been discovered the plan was in my head that throughout those winter months when not many people would be about to see, I had fully intended to occasionally pay a visit to George, and together we would make our own entertainment.

I worried that being caught red-handed again and obviously being a willing participant, that tongues would wag and word would get to Steve. Little was I to know then that worse things were about to happen.



The Pack Ch. 04



The winter had passed without incident or upset. Steve and I sometimes felt cut off not being used to the isolation of a rural winter when the darkness descended early and all went quiet. In the city, lights came on and nightlife took the place of shoppers and businessmen. The village pub became quieter too and people stayed home for Christmas, though New Year went with a swing. I was beginning to feel pangs, urges, and often thought or fantasised about people like George, or Billy and Edward. It seemed that mentally I had split 'The Pack' into two separate groups, one exciting, and one frightening and sinister. Though that was silly as each group contained the same individuals.

One day in early March Steve came home in a jovial mood.

"I've made great inroads with the locals," he announced.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I retorted.

"Well, it's silly getting in tradesmen from miles away and paying top prices for work when the locals can do things much cheaper. I've made an effort and patched things up with some of those guys who worked here."

I was alarmed. "But you said they were lazy and slow and they'd never set foot here again!"

"Yeah, but...I think they were trying it on, seeing what they could get away with, us being newcomers and city folk. I'm sure that now they will play the game and as work isn't that easy to come by they will behave."

"Behave? I don't think so!" I said with a cynicism Steve would never understand. "What exactly are you telling me?"

"That I've done a deal with some guys, they will come and rebuild that dry stone wall at the end of the farmyard. If they do a good job then I'll find them more work. We'll let bygones be bygones."

For the next two weeks I was nervous and on tenterhooks though deep inside I felt a thrill wondering, and hoping, that amongst the men coming would be Billy or Edward -- and what might happen. The name Steve had given me wasn't familiar but without raising suspicion I couldn't press him too much, asking if he was sure the man was one who had been before. I hoped George would not be coming as for both our sakes it was better for him to remain separate, not for us to be in the same company together with the other men.

I wasn't prepared for what faced me on the morning the men arrived. Confused at first that the two men who alighted from the pick-up first were not familiar faces, I looked beyond at a third older man who was speaking to my husband. As they both approached the house my heart thumped, and the memories came back. In my mind's eye the scene replayed. The last time I had seen this face I was kneeling on the grass, looking up, surrounded by other men. The man came in with Steve who introduced us -- the man smirked. The last time I had seen that smirk piss was flowing from his cock, onto my face and body, into my mouth.

"I'll get off to work now and leave you all to it!" Steve said, rushing out of the door.

Leave us to it? If only he knew!

The dark sinister eyes penetrated, burned into me, behind him the other men waited for instruction, smiling, running their own eyes over my body, admiringly but with lust.

"We'd better get on," the dark man said. "I'm Jim, by the way -- sure we've met before." He grinned, knowing full well we had. "These boys are Al and Don. I'm sure we'll all get to know each other well - soon."

They went away and for several hours did what they were supposed to do. My nerves were frayed expecting the man to come to the house on the pretext of wanting drinks or water for their breaks but I saw they had brought flasks and was left well alone. I was sure the man would eventually come. On the second day the tension was too much to bear so I locked up and climbed into the car -- to go anywhere.

"Off out then missus?" the man's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Yes," I said, "You have access to any facilities you need in the outbuilding over there."

"Right," he said before lowering his voice, "Water, toilet, somewhere to take a pee." The implications were made obvious by the way he twisted his mouth when he spoke, giving an evil grin; he was reminded me off the last time we met.

The third morning I still felt tension and when Steve left for work, happy with the progress of the wall, I felt a need to keep checking, looking out of the window, to make sure they were working, and not sneaking around, sneaking up on me. My nerves were on edge, watching the new men I felt deep inside a tinge of disappointment, thinking that had they been here under different circumstances I might have been inclined to take them tea or coffee, been friendlier toward them. They were handsome, well built, the sort of men I would have liked to get to know -- my mind began to wander, to admire them in a way very unwholesome. I felt an urge, a need.

Making myself busy with chores I snatched occasional glimpses of the guys, remembering the times I flirted and showed off -- when we first came here. I daydreamed.

"So how was George yesterday?" 

The voice cut through the air and turned my stomach.

"What are you doing in here -- I didn't invite you in?"

"Just thought I'd come and see how you are -- so how was George?"

I was caught off guard and felt scared.

"I didn't see George -- what are you talking about?"

"You know which George I am referring to then?"

I stumbled and stammered. He obviously knew some or the entire story, the gossip, how could I deny anything, wouldn't I just give him bullets to fire, chances to aggravate and wind me up? 

"You're lucky no one will tell your husband -- if you're a good girl."

"What do you mean?"

The man had craftily shuffled toward me almost without me realising it, now his arm circled my waist and with a jerk he drew me close.

"Get off me!" I snapped. He took a quick feel of my backside first but surprisingly he let me loose.

"I know what makes you tick," he said, talking very slowly, emphasising certain syllables, "I know the sort of things that turn you on, get you wet between the legs. We've seen you watching from the window."

"I was checking to see if you were slacking, being lazy like last time you came here!" I snapped defending my actions.

"Probably that too, but I bet you took time to admire those two hulking guys, harboured a few dirty thoughts, as you say -- 'like last time I came here'. You can't have it your own way all the time, select a few favourites from a bunch of guys and expect the rest to keep quiet for you. If you want to be a dirty wife then you have to look after the people who help you, who know your secrets. These aren't city guys who you run into at a club or a bar and may never ever see again; single one out from the group for a once only quick fuck. We all live around here, you will see us all the time."

"That's not the way I think!" I said, falteringly.

"Maybe I'm wrong," he said, "But not about you liking sex, that you'll never be able to stop yourself from wanting other men. I know other things too don't I -- what things turn you on? Do you want me to call the other two in here?

"Don't be ridiculous!" I hissed, my heart thumping.

"Come here!" he commanded, in a loud whisper, "Say thank you to me for not telling your husband -- about George, about Billy -- about Edward!"

He knew it all.

I mumbled something about how evil he was, stepping into his reach and being pulled against his body, having his hand on my chin to lift my face so he could kiss me while letting that same hand drop to my chest to unfasten my shirt. He licked my cheek and nuzzled my neck, now squeezing and rubbing my nipples. Pulling my breasts from the bra cups he fondled and stared, admiring, complimenting me on what fine tits I had.

"Please," I begged, "Can we move away from the window?"

He kissed my cheek, "No!" he whispered.

I glanced outside and felt sure the other men were able to see us. They looked straight toward the window; I looked back, almost expecting them to wave. Surely they would be able to make out the whiteness of my bare breasts, see the movement of Jim's hand over my chest, realising that I was allowing him to sexually fondle me, see me stand submissively and quietly. 

"Say, thank you for not telling your husband," he said.

"Isn't that what I'm doing now, thanking you?"

"Say the words, I want to hear you say the words."

He paused to place my hand over his groin, pressing my fingers along his stiff shaft. I was beginning to feel funny inside. I looked again across the yard at the men on their break, who sat staring back. Would they know I was being coaxed into taking out Jim's dick; that's what he obviously wanted, I was already unzipping him. My hand felt how hot and stiff his dick was as I pulled it out to wank. I continued to watch the men as Jim mauled my tits pulling my shirt wide open and unfastening my bra. Inside I felt even more odd, more of that funny sensation.

"Thank you for not telling my husband -- that I have had sex with other men," I suddenly and voluntarily uttered the words, sounding like a woman in a trance, pulling the foreskin back and forth.

"Good girl!" Jim said, almost ripping my shirt as he pulled it down off my shoulders, trapping my arms. Spinning me a quarter turn to face the window he bent me forward and I was just able to find enough freedom in my arms to balance and support my body by resting my hands on the windowsill. Up came my skirt and Jim's finger hooked in the gusset of my panties tugged them aside to make room for his dick to penetrate my vagina.

There was more light falling on me now. My dancing naked tits in the window would surely be plain to see from across the yard; the men still looked. Would they know I was being fucked doggy style by their boss? Would they wonder why I had submitted so quickly and easily? Would they figure that there was a reason or just assume I was easy meat -- a sex-mad nympho, there for the taking. 

The men and I seemed to be looking into each other's eyes. Jim was using his fingers, his arm around my waist, to tickle and stimulate my clit as his cock pushed in and out of my wet hole. I couldn't help it; it was a natural reaction to orgasm. Did the watching men see how the expression on my face changed? If the window had been open then they would have heard me moan and sigh.

The men seemed uneasy, fidgeting around, sat on their plank of wood.

The next day Steve was home, taking a day off work. Mid morning he chatted to the men and seeing me at the door called me over to join in. The conversation was hardly interesting but I was comfortable contributing comments. My husband was completely unaware of the electric buzz, the immensely erotic exchange of glances when the eyes of the men met mine, the two newcomers seeing a different woman than the ordinary young housewife they first encountered. Jim was crafty enough not to pay me much attention.

"Hey, pity I didn't chat with them earlier!" Steve said, later when we discussed the men and the job.

I asked why.

"Well, it might have been quite a turn on!"

He saw my confused look.

"You would have still been in your robe -- undressed. I'd have liked to have seen their faces if your robe had come apart!"

My husband pulled me to him and was very turned on.

"It would have been sexy," he whispered. "Would you have gone along with it?"

I answered in the affirmative making him even more aroused.

"I'd have got turned on too!" I confessed quietly.

A minute later we were upstairs, Steve undressing me. He had passed the window and had acknowledged the men in the yard with a wave. I was down to bra and panties when Steve broke away to go to the bathroom.

"I don't think they can see us but we better close the curtains," he said.

I slipped on my robe and walked over to the window, reaching up to draw the drapes; my movement caught the eye of the men who now all looked up. My robe was not fastened; all I had to do was release the two halves from my grip and let it fall apart. They knew it was no accident for I looked directly at them, they at me. The sill was low and they would see most of me; to make sure I pulled the robe open wide at one side. One man touched his forelock and nodded, I nodded and gave a smile. To maintain a little interest I left the curtains only half pulled together.

"Hope they don't go up on the roof!" Steve said as he came back, "You haven't closed the drapes properly."

I smiled a dirty smile, "So?"

Steve, taken aback, took a deep breath and showed me how turned on that little comment made him feel; then he asked me a question.

"Did you cover up when you went to the window?" 

My robe had been discarded again before he had returned to the room, "No," I lied, whispering in his ear, "They might just have seen me in my bra and panties! Aren't I a naughty girl?"

Steve fucked the life out of me.

It was early one morning when Jim came strolling up to the house, wearing his evil smirk. Steve had gone off to work at six that day and it did occur to me to wonder if he had mentioned that fact to Jim, who now saw it as an opportunity. Normally I would have been dressed by the time Steve went off to work as it was the habit of common decency and behaviour not to be undressed in front of other men, especially when your husband was leaving you there in their company and going off to work.

Nevertheless I opened the door for him, standing there looking past him across the yard, seeing his co-workers, with envious looks on their faces, staring back.

"We've come early this morning," said Jim, his eyes boring through the silky pink semi-transparent dainty nightgown.

He offered no further explanation. A whole list of questions could and should have been fired back at him. So what if he had come early - for what reason? Why the hell had he come to the house? 

Did I already have the answer? He was telling me he had time -- time to spend with me. Would there be any point in delaying the inevitable, given he had no qualms about blackmailing me, even though it would mean admitting his own part in the events should he blab to my husband?

I didn't see the point in arguing or fighting, he would have got his way had he come across a few hours later anyway, I don't think that day would have been different to any other. I released my hand from holding the middle of my gown together letting it fall apart, knowing that it was a sure sign to everyone there of my submissiveness. The two guys craned their necks to see more, watching me pull open the door and step to one side to let their boss come in -- and as they most likely knew now -- have his way with me. My little negligee would have caused their dicks to immediately go hard and they would have cursed that it was not they who would have the joy of ravishing me. I knew their thoughts; how they would wish to near that pink-white flesh they saw, to touch it, to fell the softness of that little negligee as they stripped it off me before exploring my holes, filling them up with their big cocks. To spend time with the errant housewife who entertains men while husband is at work.

My mind worked overtime, I was already feeling hands over my tits, being pushed up against the kitchen tops. Jim didn't want to waste time that morning; silently he took me, grunting sometimes, pulling aside my delicate panties, mauling and handling my breasts, roughly treating my nipples with his sandpaper like digits and palms. Fucking me hard, fucking me with a vengeance.

He wanted to prove he was top dog, let his pals see he was an alpha male, show off. Like the braggart he was he grinned as he turned me around, like he had done before knowing the men would still be watching, envying him. Gripping my hair from behind he rammed into me making sure all that was possible to be seen through the glass of the kitchen window could be seen; pull my head up, make me show my face to the men, humiliate me. I would be watching them -- see how they lusted over me as they saw my tits bounce and wobble about in the window; see my face as I bent forward taking the cock of their boss up my hole. Was Jim grinning at them I wondered?

I supposed that they could have eased their discomfort and created a little enjoyment for themselves if they had chosen; maybe annoyed their smug boss by doing it. They could have taken out their cocks and masturbated -- they could have walked over to the window and watched me from close quarters. I could be just as devilish and depraved as any member of 'The Pack'; people like Jim didn't have a monopoly on perverseness. I was by now taunting them; they would see me slowly licking my lips, half-closing my eyes while a dirty smile came across my face, mouth the word 'yeah!" Wouldn't you like to fuck me too boys, I thought? My right hand covered Jim's and pressed it against my nipple, my arse began to assist his piston-like movements. This might spoil it for Jim -- his loss of complete control -- no longer the master. Fuck me harder Jim, I like it! That's what I could have said.

Revenge came swiftly after Jim emptied his sperm into my hole -- its sudden spurt took him by surprise I think! I was about to pay for my grinning in his face when he turned me back toward him, his apparent annoyance, maybe jealously of my attempts to entice his men.

"On your knees!" he ordered, drawing air noisily up his nostrils.

My body shuddered and heart thumped knowing that he wouldn't want that slackening cock sucking.

"It's such pretty nightwear, it would be a shame if it was spoiled -- soiled! Open your mouth!"

A steady stream of yellow acrid urine poured down my front -- Jim was pissing on me. His grip hurt as it tightened on the bunch of hair forcing my head back -- this time I obeyed his order and opened my mouth. My eyes had closed but now they opened, gazing up into his evil face. To his astonishment my face would not show fear or disgust but would seem calm and he would see my tongue lick and protrude from between my lips. He would see a glint in my eye, detect a sign that would confuse him, a sign that pleasure, sexual pleasure, was being experienced.

Angry and pulling my face against his pissing cock he forced it into my mouth.

"Mmm!" was the sound he heard as I gulped down the contents of his bladder, which had now lost the power of its full flow. Jim once again realised that he had lost power, was not in complete control. My mouth sucked on his flaccid cock drinking the last short spurts, "Mmm!" I moaned.

As I stood up to face him he held my neck tight pursed his lips and almost kissed me remembering in time that I was covered in his piss.

"I should have known you find that a turn on -- when we were in the woods, the first time I did that to you -- I saw it in your eyes!"

Jim went away subdued leaving me to go and clean up.

Three more days passed before the construction work was completed. Jim had continued to 'visit' me, constantly reminding me of what trouble he was capable of causing should he talk, blackmailing me.

"They've done a good job!" Steve proclaimed gleefully. Such a good job that, in spite of my strong suggestions that he ought to shop around before awarding them any further employment, he was adamant that they be the ones who converted the dilapidated outbuildings they had used as their canteen and toilet, which were once part of the stables.

I knew it would be almost a ritual, that if Jim remained on the premises, I would, as I had been made to do for the last week, submit to his every demand. I had no idea, or indeed excuse, for allowing him to humiliate me, to satisfy his appetite for sex in any dirty way he chose and even use me to tease his workmates by making sure, while I was in various states of undress, that they caught sight of me -- advertising the fact that the man had complete sexual control over me, that I was his sex slave.




The Pack Ch. 04



I was not his sex slave -- that was not my thinking, not my take of the situation! I had merely allowed him to have an insight into the depths of my lustful mind, witness the pleasure I experience from depraved and dirty acts, from surrendering myself up to cock! He is dirty too and evil and reads my mind -- there is neither need nor point in faking pretence as I do when others are around. George would not be believed but Jim knows how to use me for his own delight and knows how I get mine. He knows how my fear and disgust of 'The Pack' when they strike can quickly turn into arousal.

It's not long before he strides into my kitchen letting his men know he will 'be gone awhile'. He loves to watch them stare across the yard as they toil, hoping for a glimpse of the wanton housewife or signs that sex is taking place; Susan, the wife who fucks eagerly when her husband leaves for work.

Jim has me in a grip, his hand on the back of my neck, making me look out of the window at the men. With his other hand inside my nightgown handling my tits he tells me these are the most hard working builders he has ever employed.

"Your husband is impressed too. I think they deserve a reward, a bonus, don't you?"

After lunch in the early afternoon sun my heart is thumping as I stroll across the yard toward the workers, following Jim's instructions. The sweater is too tight not disguising the erect nipples of my braless chest; the skirt is too short hardly covering my groin. Jim is grinning enjoying seeing the discomfort of the men as they try to hide their growing bulges. He grins at me too as he sees me almost squirm and shake with embarressment. This is not the way I work, not the way I do things, yet there is an excitement, a tingling in my tummy.

The men have been engaged in a particularly hard task and sweat rolls over their soiled muscles, my excitement grows stronger. I can guess what they think of me; they see me waving my husband off to work, the dutiful wife -- then they know I fuck with the older coarse and loathsome man who is their boss -- but now they see this, me displaying myself in front of the three of them. "The wife of our client, Susan here, has told me she would like to express her appreciation for all the hard work we have done," Jim announced, explaining my presence with a little show. "In view of this I am happy to give my permission and consent for each of you, one at a time, to accompany the lady to receive and accept your bonus."

As Jim came near to me I pleaded for a change to the planned event.

"Please," I said in hushed tones, "I want to go back to the house. If my husband comes home early, or someone calls -- they can't see me dressed like this!"

"The lady is worried someone might come along," Jim shouted to the others, "Time is of the essence -- so we shall have a change of plan. To speed things up I suppose you'll both have to leave your work for now and go together."

"That's not what I wanted, not what I meant!" I hissed at the man.

Already being herded toward the outbuilding I gave up my attempt for him to see reason. The two men no longer covered their erections but still could not believe what was happening. In the dark musty building Jim signalled with a nod of his head as to where I should stand. I was never going to be allowed to seduce or flirt with these men in the normal way. The feeling of humiliation was overpowering as I stepped into the small toilet cubicle and straddled the pan.

The very short skirt rode up the last few inches of thigh as my legs spread either side of the porcelain; my trembling hands helped it go even higher to show the men that I wore no knickers. Jim wasn't going to allow me any glamour or sophistication was he? The men licked their lips and swore under their breath and I could almost hear their thoughts -- 'filthy wife' 'dirty bitch' sex mad whore'.

I started to sob quietly as, remembering to obey Jim I let my fingers gently part my labia and relaxed my tummy to empty my bladder. The handsome men who, in my role as a respectable housewife I had discreetly admired on our first meeting where now watching me standing before them without underwear pissing into an old toilet. There would be no respect shown now. Their dicks brought out on display they came either side of me and tugged up my sweater to maul my tits, placing each of my hands on a stiff cock. Jim grinned, then laughed heartily.

"Enjoy yourselves boys!" he bellowed.

Pulled from the cubicle I was bent over the table they ate from, arse high in the air. Holding on to my tits Al was the first to fuck me, slapping his belly against my bottom as he rammed his cock home. Don, passed the time pushing his cock up against my mouth or wiping the wet head over my tits as he waited his turn.

"Please," I begged, "Don't take too long, I need to get back to the house -- someone might come!"

Don lowered his face and whispered in my ear, "Otherwise all would be fine -- you wouldn't care how long we took -- is that right?"

I felt there to be only one answer, "Yeah!"

They were aroused in a way unexpected I think and both soon filled me with sperm. Jim, who I noticed had been almost frothing at the mouth as he watched, pulled me back into the toilet cubicle. 

Al and Don looked perplexed when Jim unzipped his fly; "She likes the piss!" he informed them.

"Surely you don't mean...?" Al asked.

They stared at me and I looked back showing no expression or shock, seeing their astonished mouths gape open when I voluntarily lowered my body to sit on the seat. Our eyes locked, the two men and I, as hot bodily fluid from Jim's cock sprayed over my breasts -- then I let it be known just how perverted a woman I am by slowly opening my mouth to catch the stream. Inside my head a voice begged, wished and hoped that the men would step forward and come and take their turn. When Jim moved away I saw Al and Don begin to handle their semi-flaccid cocks; in way of a signal to them I let our eyes meet and my mouth open wide. My hand was busy between my legs.



The Pack Ch. 05



We had spent the day at an old manor house near the village attending a business lunch. Steve had persuaded his company that it would be good to hold the event in our quiet rural setting giving the city clients and businessmen a chance to sample the fresh country air. Having seen most of the party off home while several others booked into high-class country hotels a few miles away Steve and I had made our way back to our vehicle.

"It's not looking good!" said the village mechanic when the damn thing refused to start.

Hitching the car up to his breakdown truck we joined him for a ride back to his village workshop. The concept of offering a courtesy car seemed to be something out of his experience.

"I can lend you that old wreck over there," said the man pointing to a pile of rust.

Steve still had a need to travel around doing a PR job making sure the visiting guests were settled in and had everything they needed.

"I'll take the bus home, or a taxi if I can find one -- you take the jalopy and do the best you can," I told him.

It was then that an old mini-bus appeared; it's tired engine backfiring and spewing out blue smoke.

"Now Jake here will be going your way ma'am, passing by the end of your lane!" exclaimed the mechanic. "He collects up the foreign labour we have staying around here -- takes them to the fields and home again later. The farmers pay him well for that."

Jake was a man known to me, not part of 'The Pack' as such but one who hovered on the fringes, knowing what went on, whether that be poaching, thieving, or doing dodgy deals. I tried to make a case for refusing without raising Steve's suspicion, making him want to ask too many questions as to why not.

"Wonder if you could drop this lady off at the end of her lane Jake?" the mechanic asked.

I smiled inwardly wondering why this show of chivalry didn't include actually taking me up the said lane to the door of my house. What bothered me more though was the sight across the road of a certain mini-skirted voluptuous teenager who was watching the proceedings with interest, the very same girl who had designs on my husband. The girl had been drafted in as extra staff at our function and it hadn't gone un-noticed how she thrust out her chest when she waited the tables, thrusting just a little too far when she placed the meal down for my husband, brushing his face with her breasts.

By the time I finally agreed to ride back in Jake's old bus I was already fuming, knowing that given Steve's talent for negotiation he could have easily hired Jake to run him around the countryside instead and stuff the immigrant workers. Was the girl waiting for me to go -- for Steve to pick her up?

Maybe it was silly of me given my recent history, but to annoy Steve, when I stretched my leg to climb into the side of the vehicle I made sure I displayed plenty of thigh and stocking top, which was not difficult given the fact I wore a tight skirt split at the side. The garment was by no means out of place but knowing that most of the other females at the event would be either blonde bimbo trophy-wives with plastic tits spilling out of garish coloured frocks or ludicrous over made-up late middle aged women with silly hats I had chosen to wear a plain dark two-piece business suit and white blouse. My pose, the way I hesitated, changed the effect completely and the silliness of it was, that to Jake, it would almost seem to be an invite.

As the bus pulled away the girl avoided my eye smiling as she stared at the ground in front of her. Stopping at the junction Jake turned and spoke to me.

"Better watch that girl ma'am, she's a little vixen!" he blatantly focused his gaze between my legs admiring the tight skirt pulled across my thighs, just a few inches below my groin.

The mini-bus had seats for twelve people with a long back seat and a sliding side door. I sat on the seat by the door meaning the man had no restriction to his view as no seats were in front of me.

"What do you know about the girl?" I asked, watching the man adjust his mirror so he could ogle me without turning round.

"She's right enough ma'am -- though she likes her men to be older -- and most have a wife. Sometimes there may be a spot of trouble but then some wives take a different view!"

He smirked as he turned briefly catching the way I crossed my legs the opposite way for comfort. What did it matter if I gave him something to look at? While he was happy he would talk and answer my questions. I smirked back at his reflection through the mirror.

"You ought to keep your eyes on the road you know?" I said smiling turning my hip to show him more upper thigh.

"Promise I won't run into a ditch ma'am!" he said in a tone that showed his appreciation and thanks for not spoiling his fun.

"What about the girl -- tell me more? Is she having a fling with my husband?"

Jake was discreet but fed me a wealth of information.

"Some wives turn a blind eye thinking if the girl keeps their husband happy then he won't cramp their style! Some wives are like you -- they like to have a little adventure on the side, while their husband's are otherwise occupied."

"Is that how you see me -- a woman who likes a little fun?"

The man laughed. "If a city man sees his wife talking to a guy he doesn't know, then he wants to know who it is. In a village everybody knows everyone else and no one thinks twice if a woman is seen say walking by the river or along a path and runs into a man whose not her husband. You see they wouldn't appear to be having a secret meeting -- just happen to meet. So no one jumps to conclusions if they walk along together. People gossip, but it's live and let live.

We all live and work together, men and women together, like in the fields, both have good appetites for food -- and sex! Temptation and opportunity presents itself probably easier than in the city. Like now for instance -- your husband himself and Herbert suggested you should come with me -- he gets to flirt with the girl -- but here you are showing me your stocking tops! Opportunity you see -- what the eye doesn't see... as the saying goes!"

"So you mean he could be having sex with the girl -- not knowing or caring that he's given me the chance to misbehave too?" I showed amusement at his simple psychology and knowledge of the human race.

Well...!" he drawled knowingly.

"Don't get too carried away," I said teasingly, and feeling devilish, "I'm giving you a little reward -- you give me information -- and I'll show my appreciation."

The vehicle pulled to a stop by a small copse that had a path leading into shrubbery.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snapped.

"Don't forget I'm working -- this is part of my job -- I'm waiting to pick up my passenger."

Jake switched off the engine and stood up saying he might as well stretch his legs. I gasped when he turned to face me -- out of his unzipped trousers stood his erect and thick penis!

"What...?" I began to stutter.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to touch you -- just proving a point!"

He sat down across from me on the other side of the bus and started to play with his dick, pulling the foreskin slowly.

"Now you see what I mean. If someone drives by and sees us it doesn't matter -- I'm supposed to be here in this quiet country lane -- they wouldn't bat an eyelid. If you were in the city on one of those dark car lots with another man -- and one of your neighbours saw you -- they would think the worst! Yet here I am, lusting over your sexy body, showing you my cock! No one passing would be any the wiser."

I watched Jake almost compulsively, seeing his facial expression change as his jerking wrist stimulated his sexual pleasure and fed his fetish of wanting to shock and indulge his exhibitionist tendencies. He would not want me to do anything else other than watch until he shot his load, an outrageous act like diving between his legs to suck his cock would actually spoil the experience for him. Maybe this was why he was always on the periphery of 'The Pack' -- preferring to watch or perhaps pick his next victim, 'Watch me wank lady or I'll tell your husband what you did'.

Did he make them expose their bodies while he masturbated I wondered? Would he feel he was no longer in control if I willingly 'helped' him, rather than just sat petrified and stunned? I slowly ran my hand up my thigh keeping my eyes glued on him, separating the split sides of my skirt to show bare skin and panty gusset. Neither he nor I spoke as I gently stroked along the crease of my vagina rolling my fingertips over that little place shielding my clit. Jake sucked in air and moaned softly -- his hard penis was one to be admired I had to admit.

A car passed, then another, slowing down to peer at our head and shoulders. Jake waved with his free hand, the driver waved back; our sense of excitement increased tenfold, particularly when I turned my head to smile at the passing motorist, slipping my finger inside the hem of my knickers. We returned to watch each other mutually masturbate.

I wasn't prepared for a third observer and neither it seemed was Jake who coyly put his cock away after being startled by the face at the window. Embarrassed I made myself decent and sat upright as the man pulled open the side door and stepped into the mini-bus.

"Now then Jake!" he said in way of a greeting, "Sorry to interrupt you and the lady here, but I have a change of plan for you. Drive over to Porter's Farm and pick up a bunch of labourers waiting there -- take them home."

"What about me?" I said, finding my voice, "Jake is taking me home."

"And so he will ma'am -- the long way round -- his work comes first, not giving free rides and 'playing' on the way. Was you enjoying Jake's little game ma'am, it seemed like you were?"

The man was abrupt and leered at me knowing exactly who I was, and most likely he had heard stories from other members of 'The Pack' though he was present himself on the first encounter.

"Come with me on the back seat ma'am. When they all pile in and throw their bags around you might get a nasty knock."

I obeyed because I had no reason to argue not expecting the man to sit so close to me as he threw his own bag by the window forcing me to sit in the middle facing up the aisle between the double seats. Jake wasn't going to miss a trick as I saw him reposition his driving mirror to have me in his view. The old bus trundled on, lurching to the side as we rounded the many corners of the country lane, sometimes pushing me against the man sat by my side.

"You remember me ma'am, we have met before?" he asked in a softer voice, placing his arm along the back of the seat.

"Yes, I remember," I answered, avoiding looking at him, "Your name is Ian, we met at my house."

"Were you enjoying yourself with Jake? Sorry I came along at the wrong time -- before you finished like. I ought to have waited a while, you must be feeling very agitated now -- unsatisfied like!"

"Not really!" I said, lost for a better response.

The bus lurched and bounced more than ever -- I was sure Jake was doing it intentionally. Ian's heavy bag also slid along the seat preventing me from putting distance between our two bodies.

"Careful ma'am, let me steady you."

His voice whispered in my ear, one arm touched my shoulder, the other he placed on my tummy. Looking along the bus I could easily tell that Jake was becoming aroused by the way his head bobbed and his neck strained to see through the mirror.

"Jake is getting aroused -- hoping he's going to see something interesting!" Ian whispered. 

"Really!" I said sarcastically.

Once again I was putting on a front as I had so many other times, unwilling to let these men see they could upset me, playing the same cat and mouse game. My will was strong when it came to a fight, unfortunately not so resilient when it came to sex.

"He's probably still erect, hard from that fun you had with him earlier!"

Ian's tone was whispered, hushed and perverted, his words interspersed with heavy breathing and filthy grins.

"Are you all depraved around here?" I snapped.

"You're slowly finding that out for yourself ma'am!" he gloated, giving my ear a quick nibble.

The hand on my tummy moved up to touch my breast, tickling my nipple. Before I could complain the man whispered, "Let's give Jake something to look at!"

Stupidly the only objection from me was to express my concern over the safety of his driving. Ian had already flicked one half of my skirt aside to display my thighs while returning his hand to deftly undo a couple of buttons of my blouse. I heard myself whimper when he nipped his finger and thumb together, sending funny sensations shooting through my nervous system as he rolled my nipple between his digits.

"You're dressed very elegantly," he said, "Very sexy."

It was surreal the way I was prepared to enter into a normal conversation with the man while he molested me.

"I've been to a business function with my husband," I said.

Answering his next questions I explained how it came about that I was here in Jake's bus. Ian played with my tits and every few seconds delivered little kisses to my neck or cheek, nibbling the lobe of my ear and using his tongue to delve inside sending shivers through me.

"So he's still in the village or riding around the countryside caring more about his business friends than he does you? He won't be waiting for you or wondering where you are then?"

I took in that information then pictured him with the girl, "No!" I said, knowing full well what a dangerous thing that was to admit. The picture of the young girl flashed again in my mind's eye and angry, as though it was a form of revenge, I allowed Ian to make contact with my lips and didn't struggle against his intruding fingers.

"Shall we give Jake something to look at?" he asked again in a very hushed tone when we came up for air.

I think I made a noise but didn't really answer. Though I felt my legs willingly open and the halves of my skirt separate when Ian decided he wanted to play inside my knickers as he kissed me more passionately. The bus continued its journey with Ian fingering my pussy and biting and sucking on my tits. Looking along the bus I frequently locked on to Jake's eyes through the mirror as they flicked from watching the road to the lewd acts going on at the back of his vehicle. Jake, I knew, would be very aroused and happy just to watch, and that fact aroused me greatly making me stretch my legs open as wide as I possibly could.

The bus slowed and I saw several males waiting by the roadside. Fearful of the new strangers I pushed Ian away and rapidly began to fasten up my clothes. The side door slid open noisily and into the vehicle they came, their Eastern European faces staring glumly and suspiciously at the business suited unexpected passenger at the back of the bus. Two of the men appeared to want to bolt, changing their mind about boarding the bus that would take them to their temporary home.

"They are scared of you," Ian said quietly, "The way you are dressed -- businesslike -- they think you might be an immigration officer."

The confusion seemed to amuse him.

"Its okay men -- come along there -- don't hang around!" Jake has seen their concern but didn't enlighten them further.

In all eight men boarded the bus sitting quietly, though they turned around spontaneously casting expressionless glances toward me. The two men who occupied the aisle seats nearest to us almost sat side-on like they were ready to take action if I flashed a warrant card. In truth I was scared of them too. Whether they were suspicious of me or not I was a woman and they were men and very soon I felt their eyes roving over my body. The tension gradually built up; perhaps now they had time to wonder why one of their foremen, Ian, sat so close, if, as they thought, I really was a government official.

My breathing became heavier and looking at Ian I could see he sensed something.

"We'll be going to the old caravan site first ma'am -- to drop these guys off!" Jake shouted

I opened my mouth to reply but my voice failed when I felt Ian's hand on my knee; the immigrants watching had startled, surprised faces. Keeping my movements under control I held Ian's wrist and removed his hand, but one half of my skirt had fallen aside.

"Leave it where it is!" Ian said, as I folded it back in place, "Give the guys some enjoyment." 

"And where would that lead to?" I asked, "This is a bus load full of men who have left their womenfolk at home in another country."

"Yeah I know!" he grinned lecherously, "That's what'll make it fun! They'd pay you good money too!"

"I'm not a prostitute," I told him.

"Not all of the women who come up here are -- I know 'cause I bring some!"

My ears pricked up.

"Any from the village?" I asked casually.

"Now that would be telling tales. I sometimes organise a few working girls from town and bring them out here."

"Any from the village?" I asked again. 

"That sort of information might cost you," he said, "I would be betraying confidences."

"What if I was willing to pay?" I said shifting around and letting my skirt come apart again. The immigrant on my right could now admire the dark band of my stocking top and see my shapely thigh. "See," I said, "They're now getting some enjoyment."

Ian laughed softly, "Okay, a couple of local girls come out here," he said.

"Like the young slapper who wants to fuck my husband -- or are they already fucking?"

Ian placed his hand on the inside of my other thigh -- the immigrant watched every movement, drawing the attention of others.

"Now that sort of information would cost much more!" Ian whispered.

I took a deep breath -- Ian offered cigarettes around and motioned the man on my left to approach to take a light. The man bent to light his cigarette from Ian's lighter which he held purposely low near my breasts -- Ian let him see how his hand then rested on the very tops of my thighs, slowly pushing my skirt wider apart. When the man returned to his seat Ian placed his free hand around the back of me and after dragging on his cigarette blew the smoke away before turning my face toward him to deliver brief kiss. The free hand then dropped to cup my breast making the watching men utter excitedly in their own language. As Ian finished his cigarette I sat still, submissively letting him deftly and gently pull apart my skirt so the men would be able to see the V of my panties, then tantalizingly undo some of the buttons of my blouse, slipping his hand inside.

"My Polish friend there is becoming very turned on -- is this turning you on too?" Ian asked with a smirk.

"I'm not answering that!" I snapped, knowing how obvious it looked with me sat with knees parted, knicker gusset showing to all the men in the bus.

You do something for me," he said. "Let me watch you with Lec. Let him touch you."

It seemed Lec was the guy sitting on the seat in front on my right who had come over for the light. I neither agreed nor disagreed. Ian took my silence as an okay, and beckoned the man over.

"We'll be there in a few minutes!" Jake shouted making the situation seem more ludicrous.

Ian ignored him, instead he told the immigrant to sit down after throwing the large bag on another seat.

"So have you worked hard today Lec?" Ian asked making conversation while he audaciously began to unfasten my blouse.

"Yes," came the reply in a strained and hesitant accent. "We all work...very hard."

Showing off my bra to all and sundry Ian pulled apart my blouse as he spoke again.

"So you ready for some rest and relaxation? This lady is nice wife of local businessman," Ian informed Lec. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Lec -- she would like you to touch her -- you know -- play with her. Its okay that the others watch -- she would like them to."




The Pack Ch. 05



Lec couldn't believe it but his hand came out to feel my breasts, then he touched between my legs moving back to my breasts, not quite making up his mind, spoilt for choice like a little boy with too many toys and too much candy.

"You bastard!" I hissed, turning to Ian. His hand, already gripping my wrist was leading it over to Lec's crotch.

He kept me facing him while the immigrant unzipped his trousers and I curled my fingers around a very thick, hot cock, noting the change in my expression. 

"You bastard!" I said again in a whisper -- then let my head fall to the side opening my lips to admit Ian's tongue into my mouth as the Pole's fingers slipped inside my wet knickers to rub my clit. I wanked his magnificent cock for all I was worth.

"We're here!" announced the driver Jake stopping the bus gently.

I looked up the bus to see a sea of staring faces, lewd and sexually excited, watching me eagerly wank off their friend with my legs splayed open, a hand inside my knickers, doing great things with my clit. I was suddenly aware that my tits, which hung out of my bra cups, were jiggling about, due to the unconscious movements of my hips, which worked my cunt against the immigrant's rough hand.

Ian whispered, "Let them take you inside one of their trailers!"

"There's eight of them," I said.

"So?"

"So tell me about the girl and my husband -- then you can take me into a trailer."

"She's called Julie -- she likes sex as much as you do and she makes money out of it. Shit, she'd probably do it for free! Though I bring in women from town, there are a few girls from the local villages who come out here to party -- Julie is one of them. And yes, strong rumour has it that she's fucking your husband, but then she goes for every new face, tries them out so to speak. You've met her father; it wouldn't surprise me if he'd fucked her too!"

I was intrigued although amusingly I was still wanking the Polish man.

"Who's her father?"

Ian grinned and delighted in telling me, "The guy who pisses in puddles!"

I was speechless and already my mind was working overtime thinking up many ways on how to extract revenge, not only on the smug girl but also on her bastard of a father. Hypocrite I definitely was -- but there you go -- that's life! If my husband wanted extra sex it wasn't going to be with a kid who seduced him under my nose whilst smirking at me like it was a challenge, a competition. I would put her in her place.

The bus had stopped in the yard of an old farmhouse, which was surrounded by past their best rusting trailers that provided the cheap accommodation for the immigrant workers. I felt the familiar tingling, heart pounding nervousness, fearful, though tremendously sexually arousing excitement that compels me to act the way I do -- to submit to any manner of depraved dirty act - to experience excitement from having men abuse and use my body.

"I'll let you take me inside the trailer," I offered quietly.

As we all walked across the yard the men stared at my bouncing breasts, left dangling from their bra cups. Amazed that I had agreed to be taken to a trailer the men were particularly aroused to learn from Ian, who had intentionally stirred things up, that I wasn't a prostitute who needed paying but an ordinary middle class housewife who was doing it for pleasure -- maybe just as sexually aroused as they all were.

Ian had told Lec to make an announcement. "You are not to speak of this to anyone else -- or the lady will never come here again!"

I walked beside Ian admitting to him my astonishment, "I can't believe other married women from the villages come here to entertain these men - are they happy to indulge in group sex?"

"That is something I'm not telling you, or any more names -- they deserve confidentiality too!"

I took that to mean they did -- I was not alone, not the only one around here to find pleasure from this fetish.

The men understood and willingly agreed, some already showing me what they had to offer. They hesitated when inside the sparsely furnished trailer.

"Time to keep your side of the bargain," Ian said.

"I'm here aren't I?" I replied.

Looking around at all the eyes that watched me I slowly began to peel off my knickers, letting them see a finger stroke over my wet slit and slide over my stocking tops. Carefully taking off and folding my jacket I finished undoing the buttons of my blouse. There was an excited exchange of words, and then Lec spoke to Ian.

"They want you to remain clothed now!" Ian informed me.

"Why?"

"They want you to remain looking like that -- like an official - business suit and stockings, they will find it very sexy, better than being with a prostitute."

Lec positioned a chair in the small free space and quickly an eager brute of a man occupied it. A wave of the hand signalled what they expected of me. Carefully straddling the man who was now pointing an erect cock at the ceiling I lowered myself down over his shaft while exploring hands rubbed and grabbed my tits. Impaled on his cock I began to gently move up and down, increasing the momentum as I felt my body respond. 

A swollen cock presented itself in my face, sliding over my cheek leaving wet trails. I could just about manage to see the tiny piss hole dribble out white thick jism. My arse was now being bounced up and down and my right hand was taken and made to hold another slimy weapon. Giving myself up completely I heard the men groan as they watched me slowly open my mouth wide inviting the poised dick to slip between my lips. Very soon I would be covered in the sperm of many men as having each one been satisfied they moved to be replaced by others. I had counted eight on the bus but given I had one inside my cunt and mouth and one being wanked and primed in each hand many more had arrived, to finish off their working day by having sex with the businessman's nice respectable wife.

"Where have you been?" asked Steve when I was finally taken home.

"He took the long route," I said, "Then there was a problem with the bus."

I had not expected Steve to be home before me; he looked suspicious not believing my excuse for lateness, noting the crumpled clothing and maybe that certain look in my eye.

"What about you -- did things not work out as planned -- you must have been back early?"

Steve gave me a hard look, though I did have a sarcastic tone to my voice.

"A little bird told me you might just get delayed and diverted -- looks like they were right!"

I seethed inside. The bitch Julie had obviously taken the opportunity to try and cause trouble for me, scoring a point against me, giving Steve good reason to maintain his interest in her. I decided to bluff my way through this, keep talking in riddles and see if Steve would reveal his hand and ask direct questions.

"And did you thank your 'little bird'. But of course -- finding out if it was true or not would have spoiled your time together - your enjoyment with 'little bird' wouldn't it?"

Now it was his turn to fire back -- he would have to reveal just how much he knew. Had he followed me?

My husband wasn't prepared to declare war -- to do that he would have to admit to Julie, his 'little bird'. He probably wondered also why I seemed so complacent, given that it was obvious I knew all about his secret meetings with the young girl. I smiled and walked out of the room, already planning on how to get my revenge. Not satisfied with just fucking my husband, she wanted to cause trouble for me. Now that annoyed me more than her opening her legs for Steve!

My revenge would be simple and effective.



The Pack Ch. 06



It was the party at the pub that brought matters to a head with the girl Julie. All evening I had watched how Steve would quietly drift off when the girl left the room. Keeping myself at a discreet distance, pretending just to be circulating amongst the guests I let him have his way seeing how far he would go. At eleven thirty the call went round for those who wished, to make their way through the village to carry on the party at the old manor house, owned by one of wealthier inhabitants.

The landlord and landlady breathed a sigh of relief, glad the party had been a success but grateful to have the time to clear up, given the fact that to them the party was actually their work and business. Having stayed happily subdued and sober throughout I volunteered to stay behind a while to help as most members of the bar staff were either too drunk themselves or had also gone off with the crowd. My goodwill gesture had another ulterior motive, I wanted to give Steve and Julie enough rope to hang themselves -- catch them later, in the act!

Jennie and Carl, the couple who ran the pub were very grateful telling Steve we would all come over to the manor house later. His delight of having the freedom to pursue the young Julie couldn't be disguised. All evening I had watched her, thrusting out her ample chest, gazing and smiling at my husband with her 'come-to-bed' eyes.

"I'll see you later -- enjoy yourself," I told Steve.

As he went on his way with a bunch of partygoers Jennie gave me a long look.

"You know you need to watch that Julie with your husband?"

I smiled nonchalantly; telling her it was okay, that I was in control. Jennie seemed intrigued, raising her eyebrows but said nothing more. We worked away clearing up most of the mess, chatting and joking for a good hour.

"Let's take this last pile of stuff into the kitchen and leave the rest for the morning staff," Jennie said, "Then if you give us a minute we'll freshen up and go over to the party with you."

I nodded, and then detected a change in tone.

"I have often mentioned to Carl -- what an interesting couple you are. You particularly, if you don't mind me saying so, I know you have the measure of the men around here."

"What on earth do you mean?" I laughed.

Jennie laughed too. "The way you have them lusting over you. Particularly that mob who stand at the corner of the bar every Friday and Saturday night."

She meant of course, 'The Pack'.

"We overhear all sorts of conversation when we're behind the bar. I have to say, Carl sometimes gets really excited if he overhears some juicy gossip and his imagination runs riot."

"Really?" I said, laughing loudly.

Jennie gave me a long and strange look.

A few minutes later, I walked into the kitchen, carefully stacking up dirty crockery. Jennie had gone down into the cellars to check on the beer kegs. Carl, who had been busy going to and fro had walked into the kitchen behind me but now, he didn't seem so busy any more, staying just a few feet away gazing at me. I felt a little uneasy, knowing he was obviously, aimlessly moving stuff around. When I noticed a bulge growing in the front of his trousers our eyes met but he didn't hide it away.

Beginning to feel my breath getting heavy I tried to carry on, partly amused, partly excited, though worried it might cause trouble if Jennie walked in. My top showed plenty of cleavage and I should not have bent so low given the situation. Carl didn't move fast, almost without me noticing in fact, but the warm hand that slid down and into my clothes to cup the end of my breast was precise and aimed well. Squeezing and rolling my nipple between thumb and finger, the pressure was enough to make me straighten up -- to have Carl nibble my neck and gently bite my ear.

"You'd better stop that!" I said softly, "What will happen if Jennie walks in?"

The amiable usually talkative landlord stayed silent and held my head, turning my face to plant his lips over mine. The bulging tent in his pants was now pressing into my midriff while his rough fingers caused a slight tingle of pain making my body wriggle. With him almost fucking my belly I felt the underside of his cock sliding up and down through my clothing. He was kissing me then moving to my neck then my tits then back to kissing me, my eyes closed, my mouth opened willingly when his tongue returned. Then, to my shock I was suddenly aware that the mouth kissing mine, and the tongue playing with my tongue did not taste like, or belong to Carl. I opened my eyes to see the dark long eyelashes of Jennie, and instantly felt and heard the excitement in her panting breathe. 

My tongue moved exciting her even more as it told her I was excited too, and then with one hand around my waist, she began with her other to unfasten the clasp that held together the two halves of my wrap-around dress. My eyes widened when the familiar noise of a zip fastener interrupted the heavy breathing: Carl was taking out his cock!

"Don't stop him!" wheezed Jennie, "Please! We are always the ones who listen to the stories -- but never get the chance to play."

She kissed me hard and passionately before speaking again, "Please don't object." Her mouth brushed across my cheek to whisper in my ear, "I want to watch him -- I want to watch him, with you!"

Moving her head slightly back to observe my reaction she hesitantly took my hand, scared of what I would do next when I quickly lowered my gaze to see the rampant stiff dick of her amazingly sexually aroused and hopeful husband. Slowly she pulled my forearm away from my body and guided it to the twitching shaft; it was up to me now.

Turning my head to face Jennie I gripped her husband's cock at the same time curling my other hand around her waist gently applying pressure to the small of her back to draw her close. 

Now it was my turn to whisper to her, "Put your fingers between my legs -- play with me first -- then you can watch Carl -- watch him fuck me!"

She squealed with delight as she saw my hand begin to pump Carl's cock, her fingers feeling straight for my wet hole finding my clitoris, "Kiss me!" she begged.

With her hands in my vagina and her husband's hands on my tits I was the one who finished up begging, begging to be fucked, to feel that hard cock inside me, at the same time taking the opportunity for it to be my turn to explore and examine Jennie's well-rounded breasts, suck on her nipples. Perched on the edge of the large wooden refectory table I did just that, enjoying the soft flash of another woman.

It might have been their first experience of playing for some time but they knew what they wanted. I was denied the feel of Carl's hot 'cum' as when his body stiffened Jennie sank down and whipping his dick out of my cunt he thrust the seeping bulbous head into the mouth of his wife, filling her orifice with white sticky jism for her to drink down and swallow. Not to be neglected totally I waited until she had her fill before turning her face toward my dripping twat, making her lick and suck my musky smelling juices too. While she did that Carl kissed me long and hard.

"We have a party to go to!" he said, "Let's get ready."

My wet and soiled flimsy knickers would have to be discarded now. 

The noise emanating from the manor house told us that the party was still in full swing. We all sauntered up the driveway still comfortable in each other's company, having taken turns to use the bathroom at the pub to clean up and make ourselves look respectable. Jennie knew what I meant when after accepting a drink from the host I told her I needed to wander around and circulate. It wasn't long before I located Steve; I knew which places he was likely to be.

They weren't the only ones necking, my husband and Julie; some people seemed to have forgotten with whom they were with. I observed the girl from a hidden vantage point, watching her body writhe around my husband, her hand stroke his cheek and her lips pout as he spoke, almost stopping his words as they made contact with his. I lingered over her figure, her tight white dress clinging to every contour, a little too tight over her well developed, well-rounded chest, her nipples prominent and erect, pushing against the cloth.

Her stomach was flat, her waist narrow, then bulged out at the hips to form an amazing hourglass figure. Her thighs carried plenty of flesh but were not flabby with fat while her calf muscles were pulled taut by the high heels of her stylish shoes. It was easy to see why men grew erect when in her company though it seemed most of the village men had, at some time or other been inside her knickers and had tired of her. I wondered if her father knew how generous she was with her favours -- or if she knew of his little games?

They were both far too confident, touching each other up as they snuggled up in the dark corner away from the noisy revellers.

"Enjoying the party?" I shouted in Julie's ear as my husband's hand cupped her tits and hers his crotch.

They pulled apart and froze like frightened rabbits caught in a headlight. Some of the party people looked and waited to see what might happen. Taking hold of Julie's hair I bent her head back then pulled it close to mine, whispering in her ear.

"I'll deal with you another time!"

I was so close, smelling her perfume and feeling her breathe, it was almost erotic -- I almost kissed her, and wanted to fell those firm bosoms myself.

"Go away now, before something bad happens!"

The girl had lost her arrogant demeanour now and was gone in a flash.

"It was only a bit of fun -- a kiss!" cried my husband.

I had decided not to let him know just how much I knew -- how long he had been chasing her. As several guests waited to enjoy the expected fight I let it be known how upset I was and how wronged I felt until Steve was almost cowering with embarressment.

"So how long have you been having an affair with her?" I snapped.

"What? I haven't -- it was just flirting, a kiss and a quick grope."

Though we kept the fight under control I never let it rest as we moved into another room, got a drink and danced a little.

"It was nothing!" he kept saying, pleading with me to let it drop.

We danced to a slow disco number, and I was very aware -- and excited - that Edward and Billy hovered just behind us.

"You did more than just grope!" I snapped at Steve in a whispered staccato voice.

"Oh for fuck's sake -- this is getting boring!" Steve retorted.

"Having trouble?" Billy asked, grinning.

"Look, if it makes you feel better -- get your revenge," Steve said, before looking past me. "Hey guys, I've been flirting and she's mad at me. Even things up will you and give her a kiss then she'll have got her revenge!"

I swayed to the music, feeling my pulse beat faster. The thought of having Steve watch me while in the arms of two men who had already fucked me felt incredibly arousing. Would he expect me to be shy and just snatch a quick kiss from them? I stared hard into his eyes.

"I want to do what you did!" I told him, seeing his face change.

Edward and Billy sashayed along side of me, causing Steve to look alarmed.

"Hey, I only flirted and kissed one person -- not two!"

He was laughing and making out the situation was humorous but the atmosphere was becoming tense. I kept my eyes on Steve while I stepped sideways against the body of Billy, knowing full well that both men would be more than happy to play this game. Swaying to and fro I smirked briefly at my husband before offering my mouth up to the taller Billy for it to be kissed; his arm came around my waist, his hand cupping the lower half of my breast. We still made movements as if we were dancing, though I knew it would look more like the sexual writhing of two lovers.

Our kiss finished then I turned my head back toward Steve, smirking defiantly as I felt Billy's hand caress my tit.

"Hey, don't go too far!" Steve warned meekly, looking uneasy and bothered -- though he didn't try to intervene.

"Don't like it when the boot's on the other foot?" I sniggered.

He didn't answer but his jaw dropped when I held out my arm invitingly to Edward, who held my face in his hands and gave me the most sensuous, passionate kiss he could, although it probably was obvious he was intentionally exaggerating just to wind up my husband.

"Hey, this has gone far enough," Steve, said.

"I told you, I want to do what you did!" I said.

"Look, people are watching -- you're making me look a right idiot!"

"People probably watched you with that floozy -- making me look an idiot!" I said.

"No -- I didn't flaunt her around in front of everyone!" 

I was still in the arms of both men, enjoying little kisses and pecks on my neck and cheeks. 

"So I'll do what you did -- you must have gone off to a quiet secluded place where no one could see you."

I stared intently at my husband -- he stared back, both of us feeling the tension. I whispered to him.

"A quiet place, out of sight, where no one could see you misbehave -- see what you did."

"What the hell are you telling me -- that you are going to slope off somewhere?"

"Keep telling you -- going to do what you did. I didn't say you couldn't come -- and watch!"

"You're being bloody silly now. Okay guys -- that's enough!"

"Where did you go Steve -- up to a bedroom -- where did you take her?"

"Come on!" he begged, "Cut this out."

"Do you really think that seeing you both giggling and groping tonight was the first time I got wind of your shenanigans? I'm doing what you did Steve -- I'm letting these men take me upstairs to find somewhere a bit more private; do you want to come so you can put me right about just how far you went? You did more than snatch a few kisses and feel a breast didn't you Steve?"

Steve tried to remain composed, dismissing my words as bullshit; "You'll tire of this crap soon -- okay, go ahead and finish trying to humiliate me."

I walked out of the room followed by the two men, bring up the rear was my husband. No one took any heed of us or sought to question where we were going.

"You're being bloody stupid!" Steve said as we reached the staircase. "But if going through this charade makes you feel better -- then fine! You two guys are being used like performing monkeys -- she's making idiots of you too."

"It's fun -- seeing the happily married argue!" laughed Edward, "We'll come along for the ride."

I was listening to this as I climbed the stair in front of the men -- well in front -- the talk stopped suddenly making me smile and tingle, as I knew they all would be able to see right up my dress, given they were quite a few steps below me. What would my husband feel like being stood with men who watched my arse sway side to side, my knickers missing?

I was almost trembling as I walked along the landing, trying to locate a suitable bedroom. It felt very erotic though weird when I held open a door and beckoned the three men to enter -- two grinning, one, my husband, nervous and unsure, and like me, trembling. The reality hit me -- here I was taking men into a bedroom -- to sexually kiss and touch me -- and I was going to make my husband watch. Could I really go through with this?

Edward and Billy still grinned but even they were looking awestruck. My heart thumped now as I looked at the men and closed the door; I could sense that they all expected me to back down; Steve was drawing in air deeply. I spotted that the door had a sliding lock. Knowing that the men waited for me to make the next move I held out a shaking hand -- and slid the bolt, locking the door -- the atmosphere was electric.

"I still don't believe you have the nerve," Steve said anxiously, "You want me to surrender and beg forgiveness!"

I found my voice.

"So what did you do with her Steve -- when there was no one to see?"

Without waiting for an answer I sidled up to Edward and almost screaming inside through the sheer eroticism of the situation I let my hand stroke the inside of the man's thigh.

"Or should I say, what did she do with you? Did she touch you and kiss you -- like this?"

I planted my lips over Edward's and pressed myself against him feeling him grow inside his pants. It would be obvious to my husband that the man had an erection. I ran my hands over Ed, running my fingers through his hair, pulling his head tight against my face, letting my tongue enter his mouth.

"Okay -- you win," Steve called out.

"Tell me what you did with Julie!" I ordered.

"I admit it -- I have been in her pants and she's been in mine -- but only playing, just touching!"

I was fantastically aroused, "Like this Steve, did she go inside your pants like this?"

I dumfounded everyone by slowly unzipping Ed, feeling inside his clothes, gripping his stiff cock.

"Fucking hell!" Steve shouted.

"Did you have an erection as stiff as this Steve?" I asked, drawing out the big throbbing weapon.

"Leave it now -- enough!" Steve said with a stutter.

His eyes stayed glued on my midriff watching my hand slowly masturbating Ed, drawing his foreskin back and forth. Not saying anything else he simply drew in deep breaths letting many long seconds pass. Billy broke the silence by sensing that this was about to come to an end, and wanting at least a little fun he felt my arse with both hands.

"This is awesome -- what a night -- fucking amazing!"

"Okay, we'll quit now," offered Ed without attempting to interrupt his enjoyment of my hand wanking his dick.

I wanted more and was determined to take this to the limit. Steve was sweating and panting -- though he was never a wimp he nevertheless had remained merely watching. A very exciting possibility for his unexpected behaviour occurred to me, causing my juices to flow.

"I'm not convinced my husband wants that," I dared to say.

All the men fell silent.

"How about it Steve?" I teased cruelly, still slowly wanking Ed's cock. "You see boys, my husband has often wondered what it would be like to see me with another man. Isn't that right Steve? Now's your chance -- the door's locked and I'm sure these guys can be relied upon to keep a secret. What do you feel like now Steve, seeing me with another man's cock in my hand? We can easily take this a stage further.

Billy! If you untie the sash on my dress and undo the little button at the side my dress will fall open."

There was just the sound of heavy breathing -- the two men incredibly aroused -- though I wasn't sure of my husband's state of mind. I watched him intently as Billy released the fastener of my dress uncovering the full-length view of my body clad in the flimsiest of underwear and sheer silk stockings. Just a tiny triangle of pubic hair drew attention to my exposed swollen labia. Billy began to maul me, and the pressure of his hands forced me to lean back against his body making my hips thrust forward; Ed reached out a hand to touch my upper thigh over the top of the silky stockings.

"How about it Steve," I purred, "Do you want to watch -- while they take turns to fuck me?"

Billy had now whipped out his cock too and rubbed it over my arse cheeks.

"No!" Steve muttered, wiping his forehead with his hand -- but incredibly, he remained where he was and didn't intervene.

I was astounded by his failure to fight or bring his torment to an end. Did his lack of response mean he would permit, would enjoy, watching any sex action other than a full-on fuck? This was out of character; though these country boys considered themselves to be hardy Steve was no pushover. In his younger days he was no stranger to street fighting and the running battles fought in city centres on weekend nights.

I remained incredulous and amazed by Steve when Billy, who had pulled my dress free to fall to the floor seductively slipped a bra strap from my shoulder, gently tugging the underside of the cup until my tit popped out. Steve, breathing heavily stepped, not forward to stop the men, but sideways to perch on the edge of the bed -- watching.




The Pack Ch. 06



While Billy played with my tit and Ed traced a hand over the wet crease of my pussy I gazed at my husband. He had said 'No' to letting these men fuck me -- but seemed to be finding excitement in seeing me misbehave and 'play' sexually with the two men.

Suddenly Billy turned to Steve, "How about it man -- the door's locked and we know how to keep our mouths shut?"

Steve kept his eyes on the action while leaning casually sideways along the bed on his right elbow. Our eyes met -- and he looked defiant, I wasn't going to see him flustered and begging or angry. Without glancing at Billy he gave a response.

"No fucking."

Then, taking us all by surprise, he slowly unzipped his trousers and calmly pulled out his erect cock, drawing the foreskin back and forth.

The two men with me exclaimed their disbelief by swearing between tight lipped low whistles. Ed dipped his fingers into my wet pussy while Billy uncovered both my breasts and commenced to nibble and suck, standing close so I could circle my fingers around his cock and pull him off, wriggling my bottom against Ed's shaft that stood between my arse crack. The expression on my face must have said it all, the moaning, the sighing -- Steve watched me as I now looked back at him, his hand slowly masturbating his cock. All of a sudden Steve's face changed and his hand began to pump faster.

"Are you about to 'cum' Steve?" I purred, taunting him.

He knew something I didn't actually -- he had seen that Billy was on the point of loosing control, and as his body tightened Billy's cock pointed at my belly and out spurted what seemed cupful after cupful of white sticky jism. Like a seasoned porn actress I wiped my hand across the wet stuff and smiled at my husband before licking my fingers.

The session was not over with yet. Pushed back on the bed near Steve, Billy thrust his head between my legs licking my clit and kissing my cunt, while Ed took up a new position by my head.

"Is this okay with you pal?" Ed asked my husband.

Steve gave a short nod.

Pushed against my lips was Edward's bell-end, swollen and red. It seemed that while Billy administered oral sex on me Ed's intention was for me to suck his sperm from his cock, and into my mouth; a task I was more than willing to do. Before I gobbled in the stiff dick I turned my head to Steve.

"I suppose you're wondering if I dare take it all in my mouth and swallow it -- drink another man's spunk right in front of you?"

Having Steve there, sitting watching me, aroused me tremendously. Gripping Billy's head and wrapping my legs around his body, I worked my cunt against his face and wanked Ed's cock into my mouth. I made sure Steve saw every spurt shoot to the back of my throat when the end finally came; Billy had successfully brought me to orgasm.

"What the fuck are you all doing in there?" shouted a voice after several loud bangs on the door.

"Be out in a minute!" Ed shouted back.

As we hurriedly repaired our dress Steve tried to clean his own copious amount of sperm from the bed sheets. We saw some very astonished faces when we emerged from the bedroom -- their imaginations must have run riot.

"I don't think we had better go that far again," Steve said, the following morning.

We talked about it for a while. He didn't deny that the event turned him on -- well he couldn't really could he? But it seemed he thought I had been to eager.

"It started off as you getting revenge and we all got carried away. You were a little too enthusiastic -- and you liked it far too much. I thought you were kidding when you taunted me about them fucking you -- but you would have happily let them."

"You were very near to agreeing to it!" I pointed out.

"We've changed since we came to live here," he said morosely, "I've been chasing skirt -- and I'm sure you've done more than you'd admit to -- but for now it's probably better if I don't ask."

It was too much for him to handle. I think that while he thought he looked cool and macho in the eyes of the local hell raising men by having the young Julie at his heels he now wondered if they laughed at him -- seeing it as an opportunity to chase me while his attention was elsewhere. It may have been a matter of pride. One thing for sure was that he had proven that he did have a penchant for being capable of enjoying wife swapping and wife watching. It was a man thing, like most husbands so inclined -- it only worked while he thought he completely controlled the situation. Sure, he could fuck Julie, or anyone else's wife, and enjoy extra sex separately, but when his own wife does it he calls foul! He was just having a bit of fun and flirting -- just a quick thrill, harmless fun - wives aren't allowed to do the same are they? Mind you, in my case, with my appetite, he may have a point!

That was a pity really because my fertile mind had already considered proposing to Steve that I should invite the two guys back to our place one night -- any two guys really. He wasn't going to agree to that now. I had an idea though.

I bided my time waiting for an opportunity to speak to Julie -- alone. Confiding in Jennie, the landlady of the pub I asked if it was okay to confront the girl on her premises though I didn't want to cause a major row in public.

"Well," she said, after some thought, "I suppose this is the best place to corner her, but don't get violent in my bar. It would be good to see her taken down a peg or two though. Wait until she goes to the 'Ladies Room' and follow her -- catch her in the corridor if you can -- there's a door marked private that leads into a little sitting room, you can have your 'talk' out of sight and earshot there."

It worked a dream -- Julie did her best to avoid me in the bar that weekend but on Sunday night she let her guard down. Swanning off to the ladies with a grin on her face I followed and waited outside the door.

"I'd like a word with you, young lady!" I said when she alighted from the toilet.

With a show of bravado she dismissed me with a laugh, "Get lost! It's not my fault if your husband chases after me -- you better have it out with him!"

Having already taken the door off it's latch it was an easy matter to sweep her sideways by fastening my hand round her chin then propel her into the room. Following her in I maintained my grip and to prevent her struggling I pressed myself close to her body, trapping her against the wall in a corner, my foot kicking the door shut behind us.

"Now, you little bitch -- listen to me. You've tried your best to make me look a fool, flaunting yourself right under my nose, making it obvious to everybody that my husband is putty in your hands. You're a little man-eater -- prefer older married men do you -- do they pay more?"

"It's not my fault you don't 'fulfil his needs' is it missus -- and get your fucking hands off me -- Mrs Middle --class Posh Paws City Shit!"

The slap came sharp and fast -- across her cheek, knocking her head sideways before my hand once again held it firm against the wall. Her body struggled so I pressed against her even harder. Tears appeared in her eyes, she was just a simple girl who tried her luck with any village man who amused her.

"Does your father know about your men friends?" I asked, "He's quite a reputation around here -- for being a bad man."

"Don't make me laugh!" Julie gloated once more, "I'm not a kid -- I'm old enough to have boyfriends -- of course he fucking knows I date men!"

"Married men?"

She was sure of herself. "Say's it's what makes the world go round -- doesn't blame me for swapping a kiss and a cuddle with some sad guy whose wife is a dried up old prune in exchange for a nice present or two."

"Kiss and cuddle?" I said, "Fucking, you mean! Does he know you fuck?"

"Really, do I? Got me on film have you? As if he'd believe you."

She was now making me angry; her cocksure arrogant attitude was beginning to grate.

"Might have you on film Julie! Interesting things go on at those immigrant camps -- when they're being entertained with working girls. Does daddy know you're a prostitute -- opening your legs for a dozen at a time?"

Julie looked shocked now, "You fucking bitch!" she screamed.

She deserved another sharp slap -- and real tears ran down her cheek.

"You're just a young kid who thinks she knows it all," I said, slackening my grip a little. 

It felt like her will to resist had waned somewhat. I actually began to stroke her cheek, quite tenderly, with the back of my hand.

"I'll keep away from your husband!" she promised, sobbing quietly. "Just don't say anything to my dad -- about the immigrants -- he'll kill me for that -- he's a racist, doesn't like them, say's they take all the local jobs."

"Yes, I know your father," I smiled facetiously, "He's a fine upstanding citizen with high morals!"

I pictured the ugly smirk on the man's face when he took delight in pissing on me.

"He's not really!" Julie informed me.

"I'm being flippant and ironic you silly girl!" I said.

Julie suddenly began to struggle, "I want to go now -- I've told you I'll keep away from your husband!"

My grip tightened -- but in a different place -- I found I had one hand holding her against the wall by pushing on her breast; my face was very close to hers.

"I haven't finished yet! We're not even half way there."

She smelt nice -- intoxicating perfume.

"You're going to do as I say -- and I'll keep quiet about your trips into the woods." 

Now I was really going to shock her.

"I don't want you to stay away from my husband -- I want you to carry on -- keep him happy -- interested -- you know what I mean."

She was visibly shaken.

"What?" she hissed.

"You keep him happy for me -- then he doesn't cramp my style. We aren't that much different you and I Julie -- I like a little fun too -- I like to be wicked!"

She did really smell nice -- she was very attractive. Maybe it was because I had my hand on her left tit; or perhaps it was the feeling of power, of being in control. In any case I felt a surge of sexual arousal. My face was still close to hers, my body pressing against her, keeping her from escaping, though she still struggled a little bit, wriggling her body -- and that too was making me feel aroused. I whispered in her ear and stole a kiss on her cheek.

"I want you to do as I say Julie -- then we can both have fun."

She wasn't about to shout and scream -- so I risked a kiss on her lips -- just a short one, gentle. She didn't object so I gave a longer one this time, and rubbed and squeezed her tit to see if she liked my touch. Withdrawing my head just a few inches I glanced down to look at her low-cut top and admire her cleavage.

"You're very daring Julie -- but you like to attract the attention of men don't you?"

"Yeah," she said very quietly and nervously.

My fingers knew how to touch another woman and they easily slipped inside her bra to lift a breast out.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me Julie?" I asked kissing her lips several times rapidly.

"With your husband?" she asked confused, "Or do you mean -- like, now - you're touching me, well... like a man would?"

"Both you silly girl!" I smirked, whispering sternly.

She didn't reply so I took it as a 'Yes,' my passion inflamed, kneading her tits and kissing her fully on the lips, forcing my tongue into her mouth. When she still didn't resist I slowly began to let my hand drop, to find hers, to guide it up my skirt, making her 'play' with my wet slit. My heart was pounding at this, my second experience with a member of my own sex, a young precautious buxom wench, not long out of school.

"Show me what you can do Julie -- and I'll pleasure you!"

She was whimpering now, but kissing back, accommodating my tongue, finding her way inside my knickers to rub my cunt, and she definitely liked the way I played with her wet hole. Her lily-white tits looked good enough to eat and I almost did, before cradling her head in my bosom making her suck my hard paps. It was heaven, for her too I hoped. As a finale I made her sink down on her knees and lifted my leg onto the arm of a chair, gathering up my clothing before pressing her face against my vagina -- making her eat my pussy.

What I wicked thought I had, remembering her father's fetish for pissing on a woman -- thinking that my present pose was the ideal one for letting it flow into young Julie's mouth. Maybe another day, Jennie wouldn't be pleased if I ruined her carpet. I could not help but think though -- if Julie's dirty daddy ever imagined himself doing to his daughter what he did to me!

Well, my husband now knew that I had discovered his secret -- that he has had sex with young Julie. He would be very shocked indeed if he knew just one certain secret of mine - that I have too!



The Pack Ch. 07



There had been a new, different, atmosphere, both between my husband and I when we visited the village pub. Since the night of the party, when I took two men to the bedroom, Steve frequently questioning me, as to my whereabouts and also grilled me, looking for answers and reassurances troubled, wondering if I would have gone the whole way.

"You weren't far off letting me – wanting me to!" I constantly reminded him.

"They will want you again," he stated.

"You were happy to fuck Julie without wondering what I was doing until I brought it out into the open. Do you want to go back to that; you do your thing and I'll do mine?"

I knew that something about that arrangement, that idea, excited Steve, but he shied away from it. However, one thing was certain; talking about that night turned him on immensely and he would fuck me – before we'd finished our conversation. How he loved me to describe every detail, every sensation, tease him as to whether I would again stray.

I did persuade him to tell me about Julie, leaving him perplexed as to why I seemed to be encouraging him.

"Fuck me!" I would say, "Think of her young tight cunt while you screw me, your cock slipping inside her little wet hole."

The sex was great but always, when he was satisfied he would say the same thing.

"You want me to fuck her then you have an excuse to meet those guys. Fucking hell, Susan – I shagged a girl – but you want a threesome!"

In truth I had been having more than threesomes – and still did. Though those two guys never told anyone about Steve being present in that bedroom, they knew I would be open to exploitation.

One afternoon I had taken a walk along a country lane to clear my head and take stock of my thoughts. I had wandered down a track, ignoring the occasional vehicle that passed by. It suddenly hit me that a large old white van had stopped ahead blocking my path. I felt nervous, knowing inside what I might expect. Sure enough the side door slid open and I saw the faces of two members of 'The Pack'.

"Get in!" one of them said, not in a totally commanding tone, but one which signalled that a refusal might cause a problem.

"I don't need a lift – I'm out for a walk." I answered.

"We weren't offering you a ride," he said, "We were looking for a little afternoon entertainment."

Another two stepped out of the van, one being Edward.

"Now come on Susan – you will enjoy that fresh country air much more after having a work-out with us."

"I need to go!" I said, turning, with my belly churning and my chest pounding.

I never took more than two steps before a hand came around my waist and both men were by my side. Really I can't say I was forcibly restrained, but the friendly hug was just a bit too tight. I felt scared, even though by now I knew most of these men almost intimately, rather than seeing them as the menace they once were.

"Please, let me go!" I begged. "Look, we've had our fun in the past – and who knows, maybe we'll have some again – but not like this, not anymore. We have to be a little more discrete, a bit more civilised!" 

Hands were already touching me, mauling me.

"We know what you like Susan!" said Edward.

I protested, reasoned to no avail, until they tired of listening to me. Standing their smirking, with malevolent, lustful grins on their faces, I watched how their eyes feasted on my body, anticipating what delights they hoped to enjoy. Not being able to avoid noticing I kept glancing at their midriffs, seeing how the front of their denims swelled up, the lengths of their erections easily visible. The thing that scared me most, that caused that familiar tingling in my tummy was realising that they were not alone; others were in the vehicle. Other men sat in that van, probably excited too, watching, feeling their lust building up.

"Are you going to step inside the van Susan?" a voice asked insistently.

Hands had gone under my sweater and it was being pulled up, my arms encouraged to rise above my head. I felt the waistband of my jeans becoming loose.

"No, you can't strip me here," I cried, "In the middle of a bloody path! What are you thinking of – this is fucking outrageous? Someone is likely to come along, what would they think, seeing me like this?"

Ed's mouth pressed against my ear, "Come on Susan!"

I sobbed quietly. Now a hand was thrust inside my sweater playing with my nipples, my jeans, slack around my waist, allowed room for rough fingers to tug on the gusset of my panties. I felt embarrassment that my pussy was wet and labia swollen with the rush of blood.

"You can't force me to get in – it will be kidnapping, holding me against my will!"

That threat didn't stop the hands from teasing and touching – massaging and stimulating.

"Come on Susan!"

"No! Please stop this, don't do this! Oh my goodness!" I turned my head side-on to Ed speaking very quietly, "How many others are in the van?"

"Two more," he said, equally quietly, "Four of us all told – for you to have some fun with!"

I sobbed and let my arms fall away to my side. They saw my surrender and still blubbering I shuffled unaided or unforced toward the door of the van when the hand was removed from inside my jeans.

"Come on girl – well done!" sniggered a voice from the inside as I climbed in.

Looking up furtively I spied his big erection already out of his pants. Gently guided and supported from behind I automatically felt the need to just get on with job in hand and sank to my knees beside the leather bench seat – taking the thick cock between my lips and commenced to suck.

"Good lass, Susan – enjoy yourself!"

I didn't need the jeans, I was told and though I didn't want to feel too naked and exposed I lifted each leg in turn stretching it out behind me and allowed the men to undress me down to knickers and bra. I had four cocks to satisfy – and if I wanted to complete my walk and get home in time without causing suspicion I knew I had better work hard – and give them good sex. In a second my arse was raised and a cock pushed into me from behind.

"I was right wasn't I Susan – this is what you like?"

I had better be positive and make them happy, I reasoned – the best way to finish it with speed.

"Yeah, I do – fuck me – give me your spunk!"

That van shook and rattled for a good hour that day, while I simultaneously took a cock in my mouth whilst bouncing on a thick hard shaft.

I was making my way back to my car early one afternoon after going into the village to do some errands. Across the village green stood a small group of men and as I walked toward them a pick-up pulled up along side of them. The faces in the truck I recognised – they were three members of 'The Pack', but the group of four men were strangers. I could almost feel the staring eyes and a few quick glances was enough to know the dirty thoughts behind their smirking grins.

I wasn't prepared to acknowledge 'The Pack' and felt nervous, in a weird sort of way, not being able to muster up enough bravado to simply say a carefree good-morning and deny them the pleasure of knowing they had rattled me, by pulling across my path, forcing me to walk in between the strangers. Feeling unsettled inside with butterflies in my tummy I finally reached my car and drove home to eat lunch – a meal I ate with much difficulty, given the thoughts that flashed through my head.

Who really knows what governs people's behaviour, making them do the silliest, and most unwise things. Maybe it had been stupid of me to decide to take a stroll that afternoon, along the edge of the woods. Silly too not to change into denims and shirt, more appropriate clothing for countryside strolls. Why had I chosen to go out wearing such a short black leather skirt, zipped at the front, over stockings, contrasting with a tight white low cut top?

I was surely conscious of it being, shall we say, unusual garb, because I had welcomed the fact that the weather was likely to be unpredictable and inclement so wore a full length drover's style coat knowing that if I met people I knew along the way my outfit would be hidden and not raise eyebrows.

Surely too it ought to have occurred to me that it was best to stay at home that day after my encounter in the village. Wasn't there a danger, a likelihood that those men might just be riding out in this direction, this area, foraging, and hunting, seeing what the day might bring?

I exchanged polite hellos with a couple of elderly people before the path meandered away into lonelier parts away from the picturesque riverbank. Not many folks came along here of a midweek afternoon, particularly this time of year. This was not old woodland of native trees but a working forest of commercially grown conifers with a rough track for the heavy vehicles of the lumberjacks who periodically felled timber clearing large areas allowing the sun's rays to reach the undergrowth. It was while walking along one such track and into a clearing that I opened my coat, feeling the warmth of the sun, on my front.

Ahead of me, there was a sort of crossroads and the low rumble of an engine and the sound of breaking twigs being snapped by heavy wheels rolling over them cracked through the air. The vehicle came in sight and crossed my view from left to right a few hundred feet away; it was almost certain that the occupants would have seen me, probably noticing the bright whiteness of my cotton top against the drab dark brown's and green's of the forest. Still I walked on but now I felt anxious and edgy and refastened my coat. One part of my brain insisted I should turn and go back, play safe and be sensible; some other influence said to carry on, to seek to experience a perverse pleasure from the foreboding unknown and unpredictable consequences that lay around the next bend.

"They are regular workmen, just earning a living doing a rough job – not murderers or monsters!" I said, talking aloud to myself, "I have nothing to be frightened of."

A little footpath to my right seemed to be a shortcut, cutting off the wide bend. Maybe the truck had gone anyway, I thought. I was wrong, as ahead of me on the side of the track, the large battered lump of metal sat there, like a brooding giant. A man appeared from the rear of the vehicle, casually sauntering along, and even at this distance I detected a smile, an arrogant smile.

Why was it that a mere smile had the ability to instil in me a fear, a tremble – an unexplainable excitement?

Out of the cab of the truck another smiling face appeared. It was like they were telling me there was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. The arrogance in the smile was that they knew there was no point wasting energy by trying to avoid the inevitable; like they were sure of what action I would take next. As these where the very same men I had seen in the village – then maybe they had been well briefed - by 'The Pack' 

I walked up the path. I opened my coat. The skirt unzipped from the bottom and already the fastener had journeyed along its way showing off the darker bands of nylon that were my stocking tops. My trembling body, and the fearful exquisite thrill from knowing I was walking into danger, had aroused my nipples and had made them erect, pushing against the thin cotton of my top.

Now I was almost in normal speaking distance of the men, being able to see the hunger on the faces, their hunger for sex, their desire. I used my arms to keep the coat separated so they could judge as to whether my body pleased them; I feared them, but at the same time wanted their approval. Now I was close and had either to pass the vehicle or tarry awhile, letting them evaluate what might be on offer. I could always change my mind and walk on, say no deal – couldn't I?

"Get into the cab lady."

"Where will you take me?"

"We have a log cabin – a short drive away. No one will come near. We'll take you back as close to home as you'd like after."

"Who will be there at the cabin?"

"A bunch of workmen, four maybe – might be more, though some could be happy just to watch."

"My husband arrives home around five thirty – today he would expect me to be there?"

"We wouldn't spoil a good thing lady. No one wants to cause aggravation or upset. When you have had enough – we'll stop. Who wants trouble? Not us"

"How did you know I would be here, be willing?"

"Hey lady, how did you know we'd be here? We saw you from a distance, walking along the track; now you're closer – the way you're dressed tells it's own story. Come here – seeing you dressed like that – well... I can't wait. Walk toward me!"

With my legs feeling like jelly I stepped closer to him. Firmly but not roughly he stood me up against the side of the grubby vehicle, pushing my arms down to my side, opening my coat wide. Taking out his cock, to have it ready he squeezed my tits, and looked pleased to see me watch his stiff dick wave around outside his fly-hole as he mauled me.

"Do you want that inside you, sweetheart?" he asked leering.

As he unzipped my skirt a few inches and lifted it to see my little panties I looked back into his eyes and responded to his question.

"I bet at this stage, I don't have a choice in the matter!"

"That's right – but are you going to enjoy it?"

"That depends on how good you are!"

At the side of the truck he parted the gusset of my panties and pushed his cock deep inside my damp pussy. Ramming into me he slid his hands under my top and straightening his legs lifted me from the ground impaled on his long pole. As his effort increased bouncing me up and down, he moved a hand from tit to arse cheek to support and balance me; now he could go even faster, even harder.

"Yeah!" I hissed, "Go for it!"

I was left exhausted, and tingling from the intense orgasm when the guy pushed me toward the cab of the vehicle, ordering me to climb in. My hand was snatched away, preventing me from zipping up my skirt and as I stepped up three faces looked down, watching the show. It was necessary to spread my thighs and stretch my legs wide in order to reach the wide metal steps and platform giving the boys a clear view of my sodden knickers and wet quim.

As I reached the last step hands reached out to play with my breasts while behind a helping hand on my bottom slipped over my arse crack and a finger worked on my anus. It was impossible to stay balanced and I fell into the cab of the truck, my face landing on the lap of a big lumberjack. To these men it was unnecessary for me to sit upright and the truck was already moving away as the sweaty cheesy odour of a big hard cock rubbed over my cheeks.

"Suck it sweetheart!" the big man said.

Well, that's why I was there wasn't it?

I had only just regained a normal sitting position by the time the vehicle was about to stop, having been fucked from behind with my knickers pulled to one side and swallowing a mouthful of 'cum'. The driver was pulling into a compound, away from paths and out of sight of members of the public who walked through the forest.

"We have a cabin that serves as our canteen locker rooms and showers," one guy told me. "We need to check first – see who's inside." He gave me a wicked smile before adding, "It's not every guy who wants a fuck party, some will blab to the bosses if they see you here."

Bar one man they all alighted and were gone for around five minutes leaving me to be mauled and groped and masturbated upon by an impatient moron.

"Bring her inside, its okay!" a voice called out.

Still with the front of my knickers showing under my unzipped skirt I was exhibited to the other occupants of the hut. Three more men sat round the large wooden table, staring at me sombre and silently.

"She looks like you've dragged her through a hedge, a bit dirty!" observed the eldest man puffing on a pipe.

"Yeah, do you want to freshen up sweetheart?"

"Plenty of room for another in there!" another voice said mockingly.

The sound of running water reached my ears and when a door was thrown open out bellowed hot steam.

"Undress sweetheart – go and join Pete in the shower!" The tone sounded firm but persuasive, rather than commanding.

Now I was beginning to feel scared wondering what I got myself into. When I didn't move a hand gently encouraged me forward.

"You're not going to get your kicks by using violence are you – you're not sicko's?" 

Several men laughed.

"Well we are sick bastards yes, but not violent. But we expect a little show from you, you know, not just a quick wank and fuck! Take that shower sweetheart."

I heard the sound of an engine pulling up outside but no one seemed to care about it.

I reluctantly walked into the steamy room to find there was a figure of a man, just visible through the steam, standing not in the shower, but in front of a toilet, holding his cock and about to take a piss. He delayed the act as he spotted me.

"Now there's an idea for a show!" cackled one of the guys, "I bet you need a piss too by now lady?" There was a short silence and I sensed the thought excited all present. The atmosphere was becoming tense.

"Why don't we watch – while you and Pete take a piss together – and then you can get under the shower and clean each other down?"

"She'll like that guys!" said another voice. 

I recognised it right away and quickly turned catching my breath. There in the room stood three members of 'The Pack' smirking and arrogant. In the background was the 'Piss – Man,' Julie's dad. My heart sank and I felt trapped and helpless.

"I might have known!" I screeched, almost in tears.

Jim sneered, "You would have still let them bring you here. Yes boys," he said quietly and menacingly, "She likes to be treated like a whore – and enjoys the taste of golden rain!"

They all waited, staring, with breathing laboured, coming out in short sharp pants. "Undress!" 

Shaking I undid the waistband of my skirt and let it fall loose, flinging it to one side away from the wetness. Pete had become rampant and excited by having me presented as a gift and impatiently pulled me over to the bowl.

"Let me finish undressing," I complained, still able to think straight and worry about getting home in a normal state.

"Your tops already dirty lover, and you've soiled your knickers!" The men laughed bawdily. "Don't worry, we have good drying facilities here – Mick there will wash your smalls and top later while you're entertaining us – they'll be dry before you know it!"

More bawdy laughter followed while Pete kissed me before realising something.

"Hey, I can't piss when I'm hard – what can you do about that lover?"

For the first time I took a good look at Pete's naked body, and couldn't help but admire his tight muscular frame and firm buttocks – and his very well proportioned cock which danced about, stiff and ready. I decided there and then, if these men, particularly Jim, wanted to break me, humiliate me – then they would have to work hard to do it. I sank down and cradled Pete's ball bag catching his bell-end between my lips. Sucking it into my mouth I tickled the underside with my tongue then withdrew it pulling back the foreskin to lick around the pungent smelling rim. Drawing up the loose skin firmly and taking it back to suck and lick the tip I used my fingers to apply pressure where it counts and teased his shit-hole with a spare finger.

I heard the men grunting and hissing under their breath and knew several of them had their dicks out, wanking slowly as they watched. Pete soon filled my mouth and splattered my face – then all went tense and quiet as they watched and waited for his cock to become semi-flaccid, knowing he was about to piss on me. Still I licked and sucked and this excited the audience as they hoped I would be caught with my mouth open when the golden rain came. Of course, I was going to make sure that did happen!




The Pack Ch. 07



First it was a dribble; the men sounded roused and became animated. Then it gushed forth, hot and with an acrid smell, with its own peculiar taste. The men would not see me cry or beg, pleading to be spared. I held the still semi-stiff cock and directed the flow over my tits, soaking my top, then, when I was sure all eyes were focused on me I provocatively allowed my lower jaw to fall slack, my mouth wide open and to loud whispers of disbelief I lifted the hose pipe aiming the yellow piss into the back of my throat. One man was clearly overcome and shot his load immediately.

With piss running out of the side of my mouth I glanced at the men without moving my head, and smiled, as much as I was able. Pete finished and I was pulled up, my panties rapidly whipped off. The men were arguing and appeared to be proposing a wager, though I was occupied by accommodating the cock that was fucking me hard against the wall. They waited while the man climaxed then made their intention clear.

"Are you ready to piss yourself now sweetheart?"

I looked confused and wondered what they had in mind as my foot was lifted and rested on the porcelain.

"Who dares wins!" shouted a voice, "And he gets the money!"

I wasn't expected to piss in the bowl – no – the bravest and dirtiest of them all peeled off his clothes to a slow handclap and came to kneel between my legs, looking up at my cunt lips, wet, red and open. It seemed I was to empty my bladder onto, or into, the young guy on the floor.

"Lick her cunt first! Tell him sweetheart – tell him to lick your cunt!"

I saw how nervous the lad was but felt evil and wanton.

"Lick my cunt!" I said displaying an unexpected enthusiasm, adding something extra, "And my arsehole!"

The groan from the audience meant they approved. The boy was good and I wished I could have spent more time feeling his tongue trying to penetrate my anus; I bent my knees in an effort to give him easy entry. Before the crowd tired and became bored I cupped the lads head in my palms facing my cunt and in a lewd tone ordered him to open his mouth. The piss flowed fast and was plentiful, making him struggle to spit out, forcing him to drink some down. Not realising the level of my own depravity I found myself working his face against my clit, on the verge of an orgasm and still dribbling piss into his mouth.

"Hey, don't 'cum' you'll loose interest!" said a voice.

"There's plenty left boys," I said, "That won't happen!"

I looked at my audience with half closed eyes, moaning and writhing, with a smile on my face, playing with my nipples through my piss-wet top.

"Use me!" I begged them, "Come and use me!"

In a thrice the head between my legs was replaced by a throbbing cock while men fought for me to wank their shafts, one each hand. Pulled into the canteen I was spread-eagled over the wooden table and with my legs wrapped around the waist of a thrusting lumberjack and my wrists working overtime I opened wide to drink the yellow piss of dicks that seconds earlier had fucked my mouth, spilling their thick jism down the back of my throat.

There was no shortage of cocks; my wanking hands guided warm spunk over my tits and belly, then with their power subsided they would make room for other, fresher pulsing weapons. I felt delight and joy every time a thicker longer, hot specimen was laid into my palms, hoping I would eventually be able to admire it and watch it plunge into any hole be it cunt or mouth.

In a daze I was pulled up quickly and dizzy from the rush of blood to my head lost my senses, not knowing where I was until I felt the warmth of steam and the flow of hot water from the shower. They were not merely about to clean and wash me, as I first imagined when soapy suds were wiped over my body. The rest of my clothing had already been discarded at the table. Turned and made to kiss a bearded man who obviously didn't mind the taste of piss and 'cum' my arse was pulled backward forcing me to bend until my mouth met his dick.

Eager hands soaped me well along my arse slit and probing fingers lubricated my anus. I yelled loudly shocked by the unexpected horror as the first (of what would eventually be several) invading penis entered my back passage. Held tight and forced to remain in place I was brutally arse raped, and managing to look to the side saw at least two more thick cocks with bulging veins waiting and being prepped, ready to enter my shit hole.

Suddenly, with my anal sphincter tightened around a long dong, I was lifted upright still impaled on the shaft and faced toward the remaining rampant men. Supported and held by the strong arms of a lumberjack I watched them tug their foreskins as I cried out each time my nipples were handled just that bit too harshly.

"Double penetration!" one man shouted, "Fill her up from the front!"

I could only sob as I was sandwiched between two men their piston-like manhood's thrusting to and fro in my tubes. My body had sank lower now and the pressure and sensation felt different – my clitoris was being hit in just the right place – I was starting to enjoy and even the pain had gone from my backside, my hole, suitably stretched and widened. It all began to feel good – really good!

My yells and moans now were of the delight at the perverse sexual pleasure and when a cock fired its sperm into my cunt I laughed with excited bliss when, before he extracted, he filled me up with his urine, making my insides warm and ready for the next in line. When another man approached me I grinned and held out my arms happy to let his shoulders help take my weight hugging him around the neck as I felt his cock slide into me.

"Oh yeah!" I cried manically, "Fuck me hard!" Even my nipples glowed and tingled with a new delectable sensation.

It seemed more men wanted my arse than my cunt so I was bent over, backside in the air taking those who hadn't had a turn and others who were ready for second helpings. True to their word the men kept an eye on the time and though treated roughly I happily let them take me under the shower and gladly knelt letting them take one last piss in my mouth or over my tits before they cleaned me up.

Only one thing spoiled the day, and that was Jim, who, peeved and angry that I had actually enjoyed and participated in the gangbang had whispered, vowing that one day he would break me. I knew I would have to do battle with the man; I needed help in implementing my plan.

Approaching the two other members of 'The Pack' who were present I asked them to take me home – but to keep Jim out of the way. With my top cleaned but not yet dry I borrowed a shirt from a lumberjack and in the back of the truck, sat with tits showing to keep my fellow passenger interested.

"You have probably gathered that Jim and I have issues," I said as hands rubbed my nipples.

"Everyone has issues with that twat missus!" snarled the driver.

That was music to my ears – they didn't like him either.

"We've had fun today boys – how about you help me sort the idiot out before he ruins things?"

"How?"

"I have a plan – it's evil – but will be fun to carry out - and we don't need to do anything illegal. Then we can go back to having a good time – and you can introduce me to more of your friends!"

"Sounds good to us," they agreed.

As I walked through the door I was smiling a self-satisfied grin. My shirt was still partly unbuttoned and my top and panties were carried in my hand. Steve had come home early and sat with a blank expression, his eyes staring at me.

"Have you had a good fuck?" he asked, his sarcasm laced with venom. "Which one was it? Of course, the guy in the back."

I decided not to prevaricate but I should not have rubbed salt into the wound. I held up my damp top and panties and dropped them onto a chair.

"Do you think the other guy would have been happy just to watch? And if those guys are still wearing their shirts whose do think loaned me this one?"

Steve looked devastated and stung by that remark.

"So this is my punishment – for having sex with Julie!" It was a statement more than a question.

Walking around the chair I felt Steve's eyes follow me, looking me up and down.

"You have no bra on either – and...!" his voice tailed off.

I ignored his observation and gave him the truth.

"No – it's nothing to do with punishment Steve. I was the one who was unfaithful first – but there has been no affair."

He looked more puzzled than ever.

"Today – I have been in a hut with several men. The two you saw are just the ones who brought me home. Look at me Steve, I'm wearing a borrowed lumberjack shirt and have no underwear on. Hardly likely I'm having a clandestine affair with just one man is it? Truth is, I've been fucking other men since we came to live around here. When some of the guys we see down the pub first tried their luck I let them see I wasn't going to fight too hard. 

Thing is Steve, I like it. The way I reacted over you and Julie was just my hurt pride – you, in my mind, were having an affair – I was just being fucked – just sex. I've given myself to many men Steve. This afternoon I was gang-banged – and not for the first time."

He was overwhelmed. "You mean – it was prearranged?"

"Let's say I walked toward it, not away from it."

I suddenly realised Steve's eyes were focused on my midriff and how the zip on the front of my skirt was undone almost two thirds of the way up letting him see my open, wet, well serviced pussy.

"You didn't even have time to get dressed again," he said, staring between my legs.

I had a hunch he was bothered with conflicting emotions. Slowly I let my knees part wider, making the zip run up and expose a few inches more.

"No Steve, I wanted to get home to hide the evidence." As I spoke I unfastened the few buttons holding the heavy shirt together and pulled it open. "I wanted to clean up, change and cover up evidence like this."

I let him see the red inflamed welts and friction burns on my breasts and belly, and turning on my side, thrusting out my arse I showed him my brown crack, leaving the rest to his imagination. Immediately I detected a rising in his groin area.

"So if I hadn't have found out you would be going back for more?" he said.

"I'm sorry? Excuse me?" I was incensed by his arrogant assumption that it would all now stop. "I may still be going back for more."

He began to mumble and sounded like he was almost about to sob.

"You don't care that you are sat there right in front of me – full of other men's sperm. You even have the nerve to open your legs so I can almost see it!"

I was about to let my wicked alter ego take command of the situation.

"Yes. You can almost see it – but not quite. Come over here Steve – come closer – so you can!"

I pulled apart my skirt and the zip flew all the way open, then ran a finger along my slit.

"It's wet – and swollen, and been well-filled with many man-sized cocks. Come and kneel between my legs Steve – so you can see. Come on!"

At first he didn't move but made odd noises, then slowly he slipped off the seat, hesitated, then crawled over to sit between my thighs. I bent a knee, drawing it up and aside to make my vaginal lips separate to their maximum.

"Taste it Steve!" I hissed.

"You expect me to lick knowing other men have just 'cum' inside there?" he said, his voice adopting a very strange, surprisingly not unfriendly or angry tone.

"Many men have Steve!" I stated tormenting him, "Lick me."

To my surprise he didn't need any more prompting or persuading, pushing his tongue deep inside my hole, sucking out the thick mixture of juices. I could not help but let my hips begin to writhe gently, lifting a leg so he could gain easier access.

"Suck my other hole Steve," I purred, "You'll find the taste is the same."

"They fucked you in both holes – shot their sperm into your arse too!" he uttered between slurps.

"Not only sperm Steve," I whispered, then knowing I would really blow his mind, said, "Do your senses not detect the piss – the jism of many men – mixed with piss of many men! Can I piss now, my dear husband?"



The Pack Ch. 08



The Pack: Finale

We had talked, my husband and I, examined our lifestyle, laid bare our inner thoughts and told of our wants and desires. I pondered on how it had been possible for a group of rustic, rough, ill educated men to have the ability to change the course of our lives and to have drawn me in to a web of perverted and unbridled sex. The men I had become accustomed to calling 'The Pack' had always hovered on the outskirts of our everyday routine, patiently waiting, self-assured, knowing I would give in to my appetite for wicked perverted lust, a hunger they had been all to happy to satisfy.

Steve too had been weak and though I hardly could condemn him for his fling with a willing village wench he had forced me to re-examine my feelings toward him and ask some very pertinent questions. He had, from the very beginning of our life here been content to throw me to the wolves, not knowing then of my secret, believing instead that I was scared and intimidated, frightened every time I left the house. It was Steve who instead of providing comfort protection and shelter had invited the men to our home, to work on our land, and then left me alone with them throughout the day. I remembered too how he had chosen to abandon me for the sake of his business friends, leaving me to be taken home through country lanes by a member of that same gang of men, delivered into the clutches of 'The Pack'. While I, as far as he believed, was filled with terror, he had looked after his own interests -- then met up with Julie, to fuck her.

There were other issues too that festered in the back of my mind. It was one thing swinging and enjoying wife watching but Steve had lay between my legs sucking out the spunk of other numerous men, unconcerned of how it got there! Steve was like the sad creatures on the Internet who spend their time rattling on complaining about wimps when real men would simply ignore what they find disagreeable. It seemed Steve was one of those men who liked to display a false anger in order to cover up their own shortcoming.

The bottom line was that we'd agreed to leave the area and set up somewhere else -- at least that was the official line. I had decided to leave my husband, though the decision had not been taken lightly or without good reason. I knew his secret -- he was planning to leave me too -- and with most of what was my share of the business. For a while now I had been aware of money being diverted from our accounts, and had learnt of his intentions. Steve and Julie were planning to run off, disappear into the wide blue yonder.

Any misgivings I had harboured about putting my plan into action as regards Julie's father, the nasty evil Jim -- the member of 'The Pack' I called 'The Piss Man' were now irrelevant. The plans included using Julie though I had thought perhaps I was being unkind. Jim had been the only member who had treated me badly, delighting in his use of force, violence, when the others had played mind games and intimidated me, but happy to claim victory when I succumbed to having sex, they never overstepped the line.  

The game was to make me, this middle class respectable lady, surrender to having dirty sex, which was enough -- Jim wanted to destroy and punish. Though he knew about his daughter's loose ways he was happy for her to seduce married men and extract money from them, giving him a hold over them too. Neither did he care if her boyfriends were simple village lads. It would have been easy to upset him by revealing she visited the camps of itinerant workers and immigrants but I wanted more in the way of vengeance.

Keeping up the pretence and appearing ignorant of the truth I had continued to encourage Julie to amuse and play around with my husband, even going home one night to find them in our bed fucking away. Julie had, for a while been my plaything too, having her tell me if my husband was being well looked after, and suggesting to her when they could get together, while my fingers delved inside her cunt. Many was the night when Julie came to me after seeing Steve and we played with each others tits as we lay together, a double ended dildo between our legs.

"I am helping to arrange a party," I told her one night, "Very select and exclusive. Some very wealthy people will attend and discretion is important. I need other females -- some are being brought in from elsewhere -- known reliable ones. If you're interested, I can get you in, the men will pay handsomely, lots of money to be made. The catch is, you will have to cater for their whims and fetishes."

I did the sales talk and Julie fell for it, promising to tell no one, especially Steve or her father. The importance of secrecy, the emphasis on maintaining discretion, partying with very influential and rich people -- men, and in some cases their wives too -- made it easy to explain why the event was to be held deep in the forest, in the large wooden hut that served as the lumberjacks canteen, shower and locker room.

"A couple of the guys are executives from the company who has contracts with the forestry people -- that's why you may recognise a few of the faces there, workers paid to keep their mouth shut, help make it happen and, are invited to the ball! You may be expected to perform with the wives too -- some of them will want to do more. They will want to do things they normally can't do, even at their own parties, at least, they wouldn't get to do these things with their friends and neighbours. That's why there's big money to be had for girls like you."

She took the bait. The groundwork had already been done. My accomplices were members of 'The Pack' who had issues with Jim, grudges. As for the genuine lumber men they were only too willing to go along with this prank especially as their reward included free drink and lots of sex.

Also I had taken the trouble to cultivate a friendship with the one genuine wealthy man of influence in the village who I hoped could provide an authenticity to the event. It had taken several weeks and many assignations before I put the proposition to him -- did he know of anyone of his ilk who might enjoy attending a very special party? By the time I felt confident to ask the question he had experienced the pleasure of my body, coaxed and teased into indulging in his own little kinks and foibles. My lipstick had stained his foreskin many times and his anus had been invaded, his arse thrashed, as he delighted in seeing me dressed up in the most outlandish costumes.

"I couldn't risk my reputation being ruined," he told me, matter-of-factly, "But I know people from away, unknown around here, who might like to come and spend the weekend -- and feel safe amongst discreet strangers who didn't ask questions. Yes, they would enjoy being able to let their hair down!" 

Some invitations were hand delivered by myself.

One night, well after dark, several vehicles drove slowly up the forest road and through the gates of the compound. Well away from prying eyes and nosy neighbours a party was going on. Big men with muscles and no finesse, little men with influence and money, their trophy women, their arm candy, danced, drank and smoked the finest weed, snorted lines or swallowed pills that were their preferred recreational aids. Girls and women, some there to supplement their meagre income, entertained and made themselves pleasing to the eye. All knew what sort of party it was. Several guests were being paid, most of them were there because it was a chance to enjoy their favourite fetish or indulge their depraved appetite.

Well after the first hour, clothes began to come off. One husband sipped a drink while he watched his wife, a cock in each end. The party was hotting up. Tits were exposed; stiff cocks pulled out from trousers, mostly to be handled by strange hands. In one corner a short whip teased the bare arse of a woman who was tied to shackles that hung from the ceiling, her cries muffled by the luscious lips of a mother figure, a lady who writhed excitedly every time the girl jerked as the lash cracked across her red wobbling backside.

"Be a good girl for mummy!" she uttered, living out a fantasy.

Apparently daddy would also be nice to her later.

"Make him put it up my arse!" said another woman to her husband.

Threesomes, foursomes, cock-sucking while husband watched, wives trying out lesbian encounters, it was all there. And I was the person who had made it all happen. I strolled around the room, dressed like I was a willing participant in an impossibly short skirt and thin sheer top without bra. As I passed through the door into the locker room that had the shower area behind I passed a woman who was bent forward on her knees sucking a very big cock while her businessman husband took her from behind. I nodded at two men from 'The Pack' who were busy fucking a local housewife, accomplices to my devious little plan. All was in place.

Beyond, on the tile floor there lay a woman, mouth open catching the stream of piss from a straddling big breasted blonde who held her pussy open with one hand while wanking the penis of an old man. Another hour passed and to play my part I 'warmed up' by joining a couple on one of the many bunks then followed up by letting a black guy lift me high to impale me on his massive dick, hanging on to him as he bounced me up and down his full length rammed up my tube.

I found Julie and whispered in her ear. She would join me in playing a very dirty little game for which she would be well paid. We went into the shower area. Some men had arrived with their wives, though they were clear about the form of entertainment they hoped to find, they remained nervous about confidentiality.

"They are paying very good money -- but insist that no one see their faces while they -- let's say -- perform. Anyway, it's part of their kink, their fetish." I whispered to her the amount of money she would pocket. Julie agreed to wear the blindfold.

With the room declared out of bounds except for a certain bunch the charade began. Julie was eased into performing by a gentle fuck from a well-endowed businessman who spoke to her in a very dirty way in his cultured refined accent. She was then pushed into the arms of a female who kissed and licked her and she assumed it was the wife of the guy who had just fucked her.

"I want you to kneel between my legs," the woman whispered, "Lick me -- then I'm going to piss in your mouth!"

Julie soon got the hang of it and played the game sucking off several men then taking their hot piss over her body or in her mouth. Once or twice I knelt beside her and gave her the impression that she was not alone in doing the dirty deed.

Another guest had arrived and had been kept away from the room though by careful manipulation had been allowed to indulge his lust.

"This is a very private party," my accomplice had been primed to tell him, "You shouldn't really be here."

A few minutes later he had been told that an approach had been made and a certain man wished to watch while his wife was spanked and fingered by another man.

"I said I'd find someone -- that's what they're paying for, these rich guys. I could nominate you if you want some action?"

It was enough to make him bite and give him an appetite for later.

"Don't ask any questions -- in fact don't talk to these guys unless they speak to you! Be very discreet, don't question their motives or why they want you to do certain things."

He did his job and now was hungry for more. His glimpse of me, wet and bedraggled, increased his appetite. He would ask what was going on in the far room, the room I had just entered and would be told it was very exclusive but then my accomplice would let the secret out.

"It's a fucking piss party for the rich guys."

When the door was accidentally opened he would see a young blonde knelt on the floor, soaking wet. I walked out and lost behind a tangle of bodies listened in as my plan was executed. Close on hand I had a plan B and would jump in if necessary.

"There's no stopping these rich bitches and their kinky husbands."

The guest would want in on the act and eventually my friend would go away promising, "I'll see what I can do."

"Here's the deal," he would say when he returned, "There's some filthy stuff going on in there. Most of them have disappeared but there's a small group of men who have a little party going. They're watching a couple of wives being very submissive -- to put it mildly! I can get you in because shit... the rivers running dry -- almost everyone too fucking stoned to perform by now. These are important men -- you wear a mask -- you get to abuse their wives but you don't see their faces -- you don't get to see the rich slut you are with so can't use anything against them later. Hey, like I said, it's a piss party, I know you're into that, right?"

"Pity I won't be able to see it -- me pissing on a stuck up rich bitch -- in front of her rich wimp husband!"

"Walk in the corner away from the others -- I'll come and get you."

Meanwhile Julie had been lifted to her feet.

"There's a Middle Eastern guy -- a rich Arab -- wants a little session with you. He wants you in a mask, it's his kink, makes him feel powerful, total control. Big money."

"Okay."

It was on hearing that exchange that I left the room.

The masked girl had been cleaned up so her special guest could soil her afresh and now knelt obediently on a cushion. She had been told on no account remove her mask and instructed not to speak.

The masked man was guided into the room and given a hint on how best to abuse the wealthy submissive wife on the floor before him. He had instructions not to remove his mask or speak to the wife. A woman would be on hand to guide both parties, whose voice would be the only one they obeyed. Reaching up when she sensed the man was near, the woman took hold of his shaft, needing no instruction on how to please. Kissing and licking the tip she sucked the head of his cock deep into her mouth, tickling the tiny piss-hole with her tongue before releasing the red helmet as far as her lips only to suck it back between her teeth. With one hand she squeezed his ball bag pulling hard on his testicles.

After a finger found it's way to his anus the mistress instructed him to turn around then making him bend slightly forward the girl licked his brown hole and literally kissed his arse while placing a hand between his legs to wank his shaft.

The audience played with themselves smiling as they watched, especially the woman in the corner -- which was me, yours truly! Julie was trying to put her tongue up her daddy's arse.

Unknown to the performing couple the number of people watching had now increased. I looked around at all those smirking faces, malicious and evil, those men I had come to know as 'The Pack' -- they were all present, watching, probably delighted in knowing this humiliation would be spoken off for years to come as many, like me had an axe to grind with Jim. Of course, for me, my revenge was against his daughter too who had conspired to run off with my husband and most of our money.

Jim had lifted the legs of the masked girl and was now licking her cunt greedily. She was wet and open and ready -- ready to be fucked. His rampant cock slid into her and he pummelled away, in and out like a piston.

"Turn her over!" snapped the mistress; "She will take it in the arse!"

The masked man flipped the girl over on her belly. I noted her enthusiasm as she offered up her backside, scrambling onto her knees into a submissive doggy posture. Many in that room played with their genitals as they watched the show, the middle-aged man forcing his cock into the young girls arse as the mistress lubricated both he and the tight orifice; but only I and 'The Pack' knew this was a father sodomising his daughter. The perspiration poured down the bodies of the performers as they fornicated until the man was ordered to remove his soiled cock from the brown hole.

"Lick it!" said the mistress to the girl.

The order was accompanied by a smart flick of a riding crop as the girl turned back toward the unknown man who had invaded her anus. The odours would have reached her nostrils as his cock waved around in front of her face -- then she would have tasted the contents of her own tubes. She carried out the task without too much hesitation. Ordered to finish him off in her mouth (so, she was told, the audience would be able to see the jism splash over her tits and face) the girl pumped the foreskin of the stiff rod until the man lost the fight to delay the inevitable and duly covered her with his cream. Having slowed down her sucking and wanking now, the girl continued to slide the cock in and out of her mouth as the weapon began to slacken, blood draining, allowing the urge to want to empty his bladder, over stimulated and full from drink.

"I want you to drink his piss!" whispered the mistress in the ear of the girl, though loud enough for the audience, and the man, to hear.

The man looked positively ecstatic; he was going to be allowed the opportunity to indulge his favourite fetish, though this time not allowed to see the effects. The girl gave an almost inaudible moan as she willingly succumbed, unfazed by the depravity of the request. The acrid yellow piss began to flow from the man's piss --hole onto the girl's tits at first then, as she adjusted her position, into her mouth.

The time had arrived when all would be revealed. I stood and took up a prime position. When the flow of piss had begun to subside the girl was encouraged to suck hard drawing out the remaining spurts then letting her audience watch as she drank and swallowed. As a last stream of urine entered the girls open mouth something very unexpected happened. The masks were ripped off, quickly, smartly, and simultaneously. Both man and girl stared into each other's faces, the piss still dribbling over the soiled facial skin and breasts of the young girl.

This daddy was realising, to his horror that he had just pissed into the mouth of his daughter, his cock having come from up her arse and into her mouth. The girl was similarly shocked to know that the eager fuck she had just enjoyed -- in front of half the men in the village -- the anal ring, she had minutes before, tried to widen with her tongue, belonged to the hairy arse of her father.

"A big hand for Julie," stated the mistress, "She has, for your entertainment, just been fucked by her daddy and drank his piss! Oh, and also licked her own shit from his cock!"

I looked back several times as I drove out of the village the following morning. I had left Steve a note accompanied by photographs of the previous nights party. It had been an expensive party, buying the co-operation of all those people -- the fees for all those amateur actors who pretended to be so rich and influential -- the expensive food and wine that drew the genuine sexually deprived rich to the event. So it was only right to inform Steve that he had paid for it all. There would be little in the way of funds after I had raided our joint personal and business accounts.

I hoped he would enjoy the new life he planned with Julie though I did mention in the note whether he would always picture her licking her dad's arse or imagine he tasted Jim's piss when they kissed. I would be long gone, but first I had one last call to make. At George's house I would keep my promise and pay the bill for certain help and favours that helped make my plan a success. Parking up the car I walked into the large living room, put down my bag and smiling, began to unfasten the buttons of my dress. Across from me stood several wicked, depraved and sexually aroused men, ready for some action -- 'The Pack'.