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Chav Ch. 01

By: nickamano



The Oakfield Council Estate somewhere in England. Chav babe Becky Taylor has stolen her mother's weekly £300 loan shark repayment.

Following a harrowing rollicking from her irate mother and threats of further severe consequence, Becky has until midnight to replace the money... 



Part 1 - 7 O'clock.

Stacey glanced down to the concrete square of ground that the Oakfield estate flats besieged. Crossing the expanse in the glare of the setting sun was a chav slut that Stacey only really knew by appearance. She was new-ish to the estate and had already insinuated herself with the Oakfield south flat's gang. Stacey lived at the north end herself.

The short slender brunette looked like some cute slutty girl barely into her teens, but Stacey knew her to be older (certainly over eighteen). Her hair, a glistening wet-look was brown and tussled in waves with streaks of dirty blonde peaking out from underneath. It was kept away from her face by a cream scrunchy, drawn out from the back of her scalp into a pony tail. Her small ears were adorned with two pairs of gold hoops and gold studs as well. She was wearing a cream cropped jacket with gold and black crossed thread grid-detailing.

Visible beneath the unzipped jacket was a plain black and tight fitting high-necked top, that showed off the mass of cheap mock gold bling slung around her slender neck. It swung side to side to the fast pace of her hurried stride, sliding across the acute upper curves of her perky, upward thrusting tits. And her tits were big, bigger even than Stacey's.

Sky blue denim shorts with ripped away legs, that were at least a size too small and enticingly hugging the perky curves of her round high buttocks, covered the sheer black tights caressing her shapely legs that themselves ended in faux fur lined black suede boots with silver buckles running down the outside leg from calf to ankle. 

"Who the fuck's she supposed to be, anyway?" Stacey thought to herself, contemptuously flicking ash from her cigarette.

Becky Taylor's head was buzzing. Not with the joint she'd snaffled from her mother's ready-rolled stash in the kitchen drawer but from the threat her mother had left her with before storming out of their council flat for Christ knew where.

"You better have that fucking money back here by midnight, or it'll be you who goes 'round to Garton's and tells him what you did with his money. See what he does to you then! I ain't taking the blame for it! You stupid, stupid little tart! It was bad enough having to take his cock when I sealed the deal. Tore my arse he did!" She scowled momentarily at the painful memory, unconscious rubbed her backside. Then looked back at her elder daughter. 

"Why can't you be more like your sister?" She whined, then turned on her heel and finished with a loud slamming of the front door.

"Fuck you, mum!" Becky yelled after her, but the threat of having to visit the loan shark was already beginning to sink in.

Becky had scraped fifty quid together from a couple of girls she had lent to last week and a little loose change she had in her sock drawer. Blind luck that they hadn't already pissed it away and were fair about giving it back. 

And she had a few ideas forming about getting the cash but she didn't see how she could get anywhere near 300 quid. 

She had more owed to her and they'd have to pay up, quick-fucking-smart.

She didn't think there was much worth selling. Most of their valuables had long since been hocked for drugs or to make last week's loan repayment - and that he been a close run thing.

She was almost across the square when she spotted the lads, all shell suits, attitudes and baseball caps. Her heart started to pound as she realised how late it was getting. Not the best idea to wander around Oakfield after sunset. At least not alone.

But then she breathed a sigh of relief - they were Southern Oaks. She was in with them, they wouldn't hurt her. 

And then as she came in closer, she saw they were just starters, low ranking but eager to prove themselves.

She had even been fucked by a couple of them at a party last week, she vaguely recollected.

They were looking at her and chattering between them, rough, high pitched, thick accents

"That's that Becky Taylor, She's well fuckin' hot!"

"She's a fuckin' dirty bitch is what she is!"

"You sayin' you wouldn't?"

"'Course he fuckin' would!! He'd shag her fuckin' brains out, man!"

"Like you did last week Mick?" There was laughter at that.

"Fuck you! I was fucking pissed!"

"You fucking shot your load after about ten fucking seconds!" 

"Fuck off man!"

"She fucking yawned you prick!"

"You want a fucking shiv in your fucking eye do you?!"

"Relax it boy! I'm riding you, fucking relax, prick!"

Then one of them leaned forward and caught Becky's eye.

"Hey Becky Taylor!"

"What?"

"Why not come over 'ere, get your mouth around this." He shouted, levering a pale half-mast phallus out of his elasticated waist band. Becky eyed the hardening cock coldly. It was actually quite thick... For an immature weasel.

"Maybe when you've... Grown up a bit more." She retorted tartly.

"More'n enough ere' for you bitch." He said roughly. "Fucking more'n enough!"

Becky stuck her tongue out and steered her direction a little wider of them.

"Oh, fuck her. Anyway, you should try clapping eyes on her little sister, now that's fucking talent!"

"Fuckin' right too! Fuckin' twice as hot as that piece."

"Fucking get'em both together man! Fucking shag one, shag the other, then make 'em put on a show for you..."

"You've bin thinking a bit too much about this, you prick!"

"Fuck you, cunt! I'm getting fucking sick of you."

Their raucous noise trailed away as Becky headed for home. Their distant banter starting to turn argumentative.

However, they had given her the beginnings of an idea. Her brat of a sister could make her money easily.



"Gimme yer fucking phone Jeni!" Becky snarled. "Or d'you want smakin' down!"

"Why do you have to be such a bitch, Becks?" The pretty teen (eighteen at least) snapped at her big sister.

"Why d'you have to be such a bratty little mother's girl! I fucking hate you! But I tell you what, you're gonna do what you're fucking told or I'll tell mum all about you and yer dad writing letters and chatting on Twitty or whatever it's fucking called." 

Jeni Taylor's lush brown eyes widened with shock, her full sensual lips quivering slightly.

"You wouldn't dare! She'd fucking freak if she found out I was talking to Dad."

"So what? Do you really think I give a shit?"

"I don't believe you..." Jeni said.

But Becky knew her. She could read her sister like a book. She saw fear in her lush brown eyes. Defeat.

"Try me. Jen. She'd throw you out in a second. And he can't help you from where he is, can he?"

"Beck's please, don't... You'll break her heart."

"Give. Me. Your. Fucking. Phone."

But then she caught sight of it half concealed under a book on the bedside cabinet and snatched it up, shoving the younger brunette cutie back down onto her bed.

Becky flipped open the handset, thumbed through the phonebook and then sent a text message to every male name in the listing plus a few others she had in her own memory:

-Wnt fuk me? Fr sml fee?-

-txt my sis 07858212224-

Of course, the replies started rolling in almost at once.



Twenty minutes later Becky sat in the living room of her mother's flat with a dozen men and boys of varying age.

Becky had already auctioned away Jeni's three cherries and the bidding had been fast and fierce, much to Becky's glee.

There were three winners, a boy from Jeni's Science class at her old school had paid twenty quid for her very first blowjob (maybe more than it was worth - but who was Becky to complain, that's how bidding wars upped prices.)

One of the older lads from the Oakfield estate had bid for and won her pussy for forty pounds, cheap compared to her oral cherry. 

Best of all, Jeni's old high school PE teacher had put in a solid seventy pound bid to take the girl's anal virginity and though frantic to win, other bidders from the estate hadn't managed to match his initial offer.

The rest paid ten quid for a quick ten minutes with her. With the next in line going in after ten minutes whether the previous had finished or not.

That made Becky two hundred and twenty quid right there. And she was kicking herself for not thinking of this venture earlier, if she hadn't had to rush through it she could have sent a few pics of Jeni around, hyped it up for a few days to get interest spreading and get more interested parties... Too late now.

Besides, Jeni herself, had thrown a spanner into the works.

"I want half of the money!" Jeni had said.

"Fuck you! This is for our mum's loan payment you selfish little tart!" 

"Yeah, that you fucking stole!" Jeni spat back. "Besides, I'll be the one doing all the work. And what d'you think this'll do to me at school if it gets around?!"

"What makes you think I give a shit?"

But Jeni had her own sleeve-concealed card to play. 

"'Cause I know last year, you got John to fuck you. And that was why he left." Jeni responded smugly.

"So, can't blame me if he was a fucking paedo creep!" Becky retorted, impatient and annoyed but Jeni saw anxiety behind her sister's angry, overly made-up face.

"'Cause Mum loved John. He was a nice bloke and she wanted to make a go of things with him. It'd break her heart to find out you forced him out."

"He was a perv. All he wanted to do was stick up my arse!"

"I heard you, you stuck up slut! You offered it all to him on a plate! You were all over him. And then after you'd done the business you threatened to tell Mum what he'd done and forced him to leave! How do you think Mum'd react if she found out."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"You're making me have sex with strangers! You're pimping your own fucking sister you bitch! Just to save you own skin, why shouldn't I...?!"

"Okay, okay half!" Becky snarled, backing down but silencing her cute and shapely sibling. "But it means you'll have to work hard on all them dicks and ball sacks to earn enough!"

"Well you'd fucking know wouldn't you!"

"Oh fuck off and get in the shower!"

"I can't believe you're making me do this..." Jeni muttered heavily as she started toward the bathroom.

"Right, you three who have bought her cherries. You can go in but only one at a time. Stick to the hole you've paid for. And cash up front." Becky said, half wondering what she'd do if the whole gang made a move for Jeni's room at the same time. They'd probably kill each other to be the first to fuck her, or kill Becky if she tried to stop them. For some reason however, maybe the prospect of not getting to fuck the teenage babe, they were all behaving and looking to Becky for instructions.

"Okay you first." She nodded at the boy Jeni's age, Grahame something-or-other. "Let me just warn you she doesn't know shit about sucking dick, so you'll have to take the lead. Fuck her mouth and shoot your load but don't expect a proper blowjob. And don't take too long!"

Becky stood by the open door to Jeni's room, watching as the first of her cherries got popped.

Becky hated her sister. Well, maybe not hated... She was jealous of her. 

She was a nicer person. Which everyone who met her liked to point out. "She's so adorable your sister, sweet and good natured and kind." Becky was sick to the back fucking teeth of hearing how nice Jeni was.

She was more intelligent, a grade 'A' student and total fucking suck-up. 

She got along better with their mother, when mum was sober and not too high or too low.

And she was far prettier than Becky which rankled the elder sister more than everything else, she thought.

Becky was hot and she knew it, the attention she got from lads told her, boyfriends told her, even looking in a mirror told her. If she had been an only child or had a brother instead of her cute bratty sister she would have been favourite, revered by everyone because she was so fucking gorgeous.

But her undeniable good looks and erection-inducing body were overshadowed by Jeni's heart-melting looks and her balls emptying figure. Becky imagined, with some jealousy, that Jeni's body could make lad's spunk just by looking at her.

In comparison Jeni was all tits and ass and could probably trounce three quarters of the page three girls in the Sun, Star and Mirror.

The classmate who had won the blowjob auction stared at Jeni with awe. She lounged on her bed fully clothed, unsure of how to play her part, slutty and in control, like her kid liked to pretend, or to show the reluctance and anxiety she was obviously feeling, and apparently shocked to see the first of the gang was someone she was already acquainted with from school.

"Grahame Collins!" She gasped.

"You're gonna suck my cock, aren't you Jeni?" He announced, almost stammering in his nervous excitement.

"Have you paid up?" Jeni asked.. 

"Yeah." He replied. "'Course!"

"Well, get it out then, I can't suck it if it's in your pants now can I!" She said, mocking him slightly.

"Aren't you getting your clothes off? I want to play with your boobs."

"You've paid for a blowjob. And that's all you're getting." Jeni countered, pushing suddenly questing hands away from her jutting young chest.

Then she pressed Grahame back onto her small pink duvet covered single bed, surrounded by stuffed toys she'd collected in her preteens.

Obediently, Grahame lay back and Jeni at once took the initiative, reaching for his fly and opening up the front of his faded jeans with deft fingers.

She levered his erection out and closed her small fist around it's root, squeezing and watching the blood filled muscle tense and expand under her pressuring grasp. Grahame groaned and arched his back.

Jeni leaned over his crotch and lowered her mouth onto the shaft.

Grahame groaned and Becky watched with amusement as the boy strained with the efforts of controlling his pleasure. Desperate not to spunk straight away.

And then Becky found herself becoming more and more surprised by her sister. She knew Jeni, she had always flouted the interest of boys to focus on school work and was completely inexperienced in sex stuff but here she was pushing her full rosy lips down from the bloated crown of the phallus all the way to the root. She took the full six inches into her mouth with barely any gag reflex at all. But after that her knowledge and imagination floundered somewhat, one hand caressed his scrotum while the finger and thumb of the other held the stem of his cock steady but she didn't know what else to do with her mouth, so she came back up, drawing another long moan out of the boy's barrel chest and then licked at his glistening cock head for a few seconds before sliding her lips back to his stubbly pubic hair again.

"Told you lad, you'll have to grab hold of her head and slam that meat in and out if you wanna get off."

The boy's excited compliance to Becky's suggestion silenced Jeni's attempt to dispute her sister, as he grabbed her long dark wavy tresses in both hands and took over control of her mouth, driving her head forward and back, forcing her to bob up and down in his lap.

"Suck when I pull back." Grahame grunted hoarsely as he lifted his hips off the bed deeply and firmly fucking her mouth. 

Becky's experienced eye estimated he had less than a minute before he'd be emptying his balls. 

Becky grinned despite herself as she notice Jeni's little tongue slide out from between her spread lips to lap at the underside of the boy's shaft on the outstroke.

Jeni took his cock well, as it thrust certainly into her throat but he went too deep and she gagged, bubbling spittle pouring out of her lips. But Grahame just slammed his hips faster and harder.

Soon enough he yelled out and stop moving, thoughtfully drawing his cock back so only the crown was in Jeni's mouth while he emptied his balls into her mouth. Becky watched her little sister gulping down the hot spunk over and over. Finally Grahame slumped back on the bed and let go of Jeni's head. 

"Right." Becky said at once. "Time's up, get the fuck out, others are waiting."

The boy, probably scared of the other eleven males in the living room, tiredly shoved his cock, slick with saliva and still dribbling cum after flow, back into his trousers and shuffled for the door.

"See you after, Jeni." He muttered. Jeni responded with silence. She was gulping down water from a pint glass on her bedside table.

"Worth every penny. Every fucking penny." Grahame murmured at Becky as he passed her.

"Next cherry popper!" Becky called over her shoulder.

Becky leaned back and looked across the hall into the living room. 

A tall youth about her age, with a lean muscular body, shaven head and cold, though not unattractive, arrogant features, stood up and peeled off a skin tight t-shirt. His muscled torso was defaced with a large blue black amateurish tattoo of a naked and impossibly endowed glamour-puss pole dancing around a giant AK-47 assault rifle.

He muscled his way through the room into the hall, caught sight of Becky, smiled an angry looking dangerous grin and grabbed her roughly by the nape of her neck. 

Becky gasped as she was pulled against the hard body of the tall teenager. He pulled her face hard against his and stabbed his tongue like a stiletto blade into her slack mouth while his free hand roamed her tense, shocked body at will, cupping and cruelly molesting her firm little arse, shoving hard bony fingers between her buttocks where the too tight denim shorts followed their perky curves. Becky moaned against his flicking tongue as his fingers prodded at her asshole and then her tingling pussy lips. His hand came up and cupped her more-than-handful breast through the black top beneath her jacket and tweaked her nipple once he found it. He twisted her nipple tightly, inducing pain, while he pulled his mouth off hers. Becky felt a stinging sensation through her tits as he manhandled her, tasted the tobacco and booze on his breath as he muttered to her.

"Just a taster, to get me in the mood, see?" He practically snarled.

He tugged nastily on her raw nipple one last time and then released her and pushed his way past and into Jeni's room.

He threw a glance back over his shoulder as he pushed the teenager's door to. 

"I might have a piece'a you after n'all bitch." He grunted at Becky as though making a statement of fact. "An you're a proper slut ain'cha so it won't cost me nowt."

Then his attention was on Jeni.

"What's this shit?! I paid to fuck, get them fucking clothes off an' spread yer fucking legs wide!"

Jeni caught her sister's eye who was peering, with anxious butterflies dancing in her stomach, through the two inch gap in the almost shut door. But Becky wasn't about to interfere. She merely shrugged at her little sister and watched.

"Get them fucking tits out! And show us this gash I've gone and spent my booze money on!"

Fear impelled Jeni into responsive action. She quickly started to shed her clothes as the lad kicked off his shoes and dropped baggy jeans, boxers and sporty socks all into one quick peeling motion.

Jeni was halfway through unbuttoning her blouse when the lad clambered up onto the bed, quickly shoved a hand up under her short tartan mini skirt and ripped her thong off then battered her creamy, supple thighs apart with impatient hands. He flipped the skirt's miniscule length up onto her flat toned stomach and grinned. Jeni felt herself flushing as his eyes bore into her cute pussy, the lips pouting gently, the soft well trimmed pubic hair crowning the goods.

Then, still impatient with the not-so quickness of her undressing, he grabbed her blouse and tore it open. He forced it down her slander arms and threw it to the floor. A hand gripped the lacy bra between the filled cups and yanked at it ripping upward. With a gasp the school girl threw her arms up so the garment came off more easily. But by this time she had seen the lad's cock. It was long, like a hard baton, bloated and ruddy with his excitement. Though not all that thick, she thought as he shoved her forcefully on her shoulder and climbed onto her luscious nakedness.


Chav Ch. 01



Becky watched, finding herself annoyed at the lad's childish impatience. She had to admit that her sister did have an amazing figure, not only her pretty face and those oh so adult curves but also her pearlescent tanned skin, the healthy glow she seemed to radiate the supple slender form of her neither overly skinny or spoiled by teenage puppy fat. She was as close to perfect as real and un-airbrushed girls could get. And this idiot was just after sticking his dick into her untried virgin pussy without marvelling at the artful framing of the vessel itself. 

She scalded herself for the flowery poetry. Where the fuck do I get these ideas from? I sound like some fucking dyke! Horny for my own sister! 

"Put a condom on you arsehole!" Jeni snapped suddenly, grasping a desperate moment of bravery.

For a moment the lad looked like he was going to punch her in the face but then he slouched a little.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" He muttered instead and then reached over the side of the bed for his discarded trousers.

A moment later and he was at her again, lying on her, one hand grasping his sheathed up erection, the other pressing into the mattress at the side of her shoulder taking his weight.

To smooth the entry Jeni was assisting by caressing her clit in tight little circles, trying to get herself juiced up.

She might technically be a virgin but Becky was certain she liked the occasional finger-walking session like the rest of the female population.

The lad leaned forward with his hips and insinuated his bulbous knob between her pretty pussy lips then unceremoniously shoved his way in.

Jeni let out a wide eyed gasping moan as he sank his erection into her virgin body, pushing in until he bottomed out, not quite balls deep. 

He groaned a raucously loud, satisfied sound, though strangely devoid of eroticism as though showing he was horny belied his own sense of hard man coolness.

Jeni's full bottom lip trembled as though she was on the verge of tears and her whimpers continued.

Becky couldn't help smirk at the look of discomfort and humiliation momentarily scarring her bratty little sister's beauty.

"Fuck me you're fucking tight!" He spat, almost glaring at her beneath him. "Who'd 'ave fucking thought it!"

And then, he was in her, the lad started to fuck. And he fucked hard, slamming his erection into Jeni's tight young pussy like a meat cleaver into an enemy's guts. He pummelled her with a brutalising onslaught, his narrow bony hips hammering up and down like a set of V8 pistons at full revs.

Soon his horniness caught him up and took over he started to groan, voicing his pleasure. 

"You feel that little girl!? You feel it inside you? Your first ever dick! Rippin' away in your virgin gash! I'll make you feel it, fuckin' yeah!" 

His hands started to move over Jeni's lovely body, cupping her shuddering breasts, reaching under her to grab a firm buttock or the nape of her neck.

Jeni seemed to be in a state of wide eyed numb shock and general discomfort.

Sometimes her expression would crease up, revealing a moment of increased pain, usually when his hips slammed forward too deep. Her eyes had welled up with born, though unshed, tears and she was chewing on her bottom lip, moaning in little light girlish gasps over and over again. It was the perfect picture to get the dominant lad off.

Becky continued to watch, now really getting off on her hot brat of a sister getting it good and hard for the first time. Seeing her discomfort and humiliation. Well, so fucking what! Everyone went through it and Jeni had held off for long enough.

Fuck, Becky had got it like that when she'd been just twelve! And how many times since? She couldn't even count them, she'd certainly endured more rough fucks than normal and as for nice gentle fucks, making love, that was something you only got in fucking movies... Or with other girls, if you were lucky. 

Fucking dykes! She made herself think abruptly, not liking where her mind was wandering off to.

The lad was coming, or at least slamming his cock harder and faster than ever, and in Becky's experience, that always came a few seconds before the spunk started flying.

He suddenly leaned back and grabbed Jeni's ankles, hoisting her long slender legs up and back until her ankles frames her head and he pounded into her harder than ever. 

With Jeni gasping and moaning more loudly while the lad grunted and panted in time to his hard and increasingly speedy erratic thrusts. The noise was increasing throughout the room and sparking the already horny and impatient interests of the others waiting in the living room.

And then the lad groaned a loud, long, hoarse moan and he stopped thrusting, his hard lean arse quivering with mini-convulsions while his tight ball sack tensed of it's own accord.

Becky couldn't help but let out a little giggle at the wide eyed look of shocked horror on her sister's face as she felt the condom covered meat stretching her cunt, filling with his hot spraying spunk. Her mouth fell open and her eyes squeezed shut, the closed lids forcing the tears to roll down her sweetly flushed cheeks.

The lad groaned and swore hoarsely as he emptied his balls into the no longer virgin cunt beneath him. Then he drew out and released her bent back legs. 

As her eyes fluttered open Jeni watched in renewed horror as the lad whipped off the used condom, the elongated creamy tube over half filled with his already cooling jism. And with a cruel though satiated smirk he lifted the condom.

"Here, this is for you sweets." He said, and then up-ended it over her creamy young body, tossing his ejaculated cream over her, flicking out the vestiges across her lovely torso, face and hair before dumping the slimy rubber tube to the yellow carpeted floor.

Jeni writhed and rolled on her bed as if trying to escape the cold touch of the disgusting stuff but it went all over her.

Shivering and in shock she reached for a box of tissues and started to desperately mop up the disgusting slime.

The lad, grinning, sweat soaked and rather flushed himself, grabbed his clothes and sauntered cockily, naked out of Jeni's bedroom. He paused next to Becky, threw a glance toward the open living room door. Shouted: "You're up old man!" Towards the unseen PE Teacher and then grabbed Becky again.

"Clean me up whore!"

"Fuck you, you fucking prick!"

"I said fucking clean me up! Don't give me no fucking back chat!"

Becky didn't really register the passage of the PE Teacher as she was slapped across the face by the lad and then forced hard down onto her knees.

A slimy semi flaccid penis was slapped against her face and lips a couple of times before Becky was able to open her mouth for it. Then she had the whole thing stuffed down her throat.

Unlike Jeni, Becky had never been a natural deep throater, however she'd had a lot of cock stuffed into her throat over the last five years so she had long since trained herself to work through the gag reflex.

It was still overly long though and slimy and had an underlying tang of the skanky stuff they lubed up condoms with. Still he grabbed Becky's head and slammed his already stiffening cock back and forth for a while in and out of her throat.

"Oh yeah, you're fucking good. You know how to do it. I might make you a regular piece." He was groaning down at her. One hand in her hair the other cupping her chin to make sure she kept her head at the right angle so he could feed her his whole length again and again. Becky followed his pace, breathing through her nose when she had room, knowing how to manage a dick stuffed too deep into her mouth. While she sucked and worked her tongue on the underside, Becky listening to Jeni and the PE teacher in the room beyond the hall.

The older man was murmuring softly to the girl, easing her down soothing her. She caught little mutterings here and there.

"...Not like that animal, I'll take it slow and gentle... ...You'll like it once you get used to the sensation... ...it might hurt a bit, my manhood's pretty wide..." 

That was another thing Becky has long since learned, men were liars. Anal fucking hurt like a bitch, even with a narrow cock like this lad's. It always hurt, that's why they liked doing it, show their bitches who's boss. And God help any girl who turned them down when they were high or pissed and after arse to slam. Better to give them what they wanted and get them to come fast. Another thing Becky had learned.

This teenage lad was fast, much to Becky's surprise, after shooting the sizable load he dumped on Jeni, she assumed that this oral-cleaning turned blowjob would take five or ten minutes to bring him off. But he grunted nosily and shot his spunk down her throat in barely two.

"Right I'm off." He said pulling Becky to her feet while she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "She was worth the cash your kid, taking virgin's stuff and all that shit, but I think I prefer you. I'll come round in the week and give you one, you can show me a good time... You take it up the ass right?" He asked her abruptly, then. "...'Course you do." He answered his own query without giving her a chance.

And then he was gone into the living room to get dressed, oblivious to the ten other men in the room most of which were embarrassed by his display.

Becky didn't even like the arrogant tosser, though he had a nice body and who knew what she could get out of it. She wondered which Oakfield crew he affiliated with. Could he get her higher up with this gang she'd allied herself with? Being new to these estates was never easy. Certainly trying to fit in. 

Wishing for a bottle of White Lightning to wash down the spunk with, Becky turned her attention back to her sister's room.

The PE Teacher had Jeni standing by the side of her bed leaning over with her hands braced against the dishevelled pink bedding, now stained and darkened with sweat and other fluids.

The teenager old was looking back at the older man, eyes wide with apprehensive fear. He was standing behind her still fully dressed with his erection, a short but fat member throbbing with it's hardness, jutting out of his unzipped flies. His hands were on her naked buttocks stroking the firm tanned peach with soft circular caresses, almost idolising her perfect flesh. His expression reflecting his reverence for the you beauty bending over before him.

"Are you sure you don't have your old PE kit? Or even a school uniform?"

"I told you Mr O'Brien, they're all in the wash." Jeni said as politely, playing along, even as her trepidation built.

"Oh well, never mind. Just relax, I've brought some of my wife's Vaseline to make things go easier. You really do need to relax though my pretty, my manhood's rather thick and it'll hurt to start with but once we get into the stride of things you'll enjoy it, I promise." He gushed.

It was obvious he was in a rush to get into her ass but something was making him at least appear to be nice and caring, maybe he was worried that if he did hurt her she would report him. Well it was going to hurt, Becky knew it and if he was worried about his job he should never had made the offer in the first place. 

The fact that Jeni had his mobile number in the first place suggested something untoward... Maybe Becky could blackmail him once he'd had his way with her sister... She hadn't thought of that... Things were looking up after all.

"Can't you hurry it up granddad? There're others waiting you know!"

"Hey, I've paid for this privilege! I'm not about to spoil things by rushing!" He grunted patronising, but then threw her another sidelong glance. "Saying that, you could help me along a little if you like, kneel down behind me and fondle my balls while you're licking my arse. That always make's me come quicker!" It was obvious by his grin that he was just trying to shock the teenage chav and turn himself on a little more by being overly revolting, throwing images into both of their minds and enjoying the look of revulsion on her pretty young face.

"Fuck off that's disgusting. Just get her buggered and then get the fuck out!" She snarled, flushing. And keeping to herself the fact that she'd had to do that exact depravity once before to Michelle's ex when they'd been involved in a drunken threesome once a few weeks ago.

The older man just laughed and turned his attention back to Jeni. He spent a minute scooping finger-fuls of Vaseline around her sweet looking puckered anus and onto his bloated straining cock head and then lined up his shaft and started to gentle press forward.

Jeni let out a little resigned whimper even before there was anything to whimper about. And again Becky found herself getting excited by her little brat of a sister about to get it good and hard. Seeing her discomfort and humiliation at the mere initiation of her loosing her third and final cherry. The sweetest and hardest of the three to pluck so someone had said to her once, just before he'd rammed his considerable meat up her own tight arse for the first time. She couldn't even remember who that had been, just that it had fucking ragged like nothing she'd experienced before, and afterwards she hadn't been able to sit down for a week. And that the continual bleeding for nearly a whole day afterward, had frightened her a fucking hell of a lot too.

The loud anguished moan from Jeni snapped Becky's attention back to the anal assault going on before her eyes. The anal assault Becky herself had caused, and was profiting from.

Her gaze focused at the moment that the swollen purple crown of the older man's fat erection popped suddenly past the tight entrance of Jeni's tight little anus. 

"I told you to relax, kitten." The man said, apparently in response to the pain filled noise she was making.

Two inches of cock disappeared into her rapidly forced open arse hole, before the muscle fought back, trying to close up and cinching vice tight around the still slippery girth of the wide cock. 

"It hurts!" She whimpered, her knees almost buckling, her fingers scratching at the bed clothes for purchase.

Told you so, Becky said to herself with a slightly sadistic smile, she'd been there and felt it. And now her cocky, swot of a sister was getting a little of the treatment Becky had all but grown used to. She was no better when it came down to it. She got the same treatment and it hurt just the same.

The old man, surprising Becky by his continuing attempts at chivalry, anointed the fiery anal ring that encircled and compressed his jutting hardness with a little more Vaseline before he took hold of her narrow waist. 

His long fingers almost touched around the front of her flat slender belly.

"Ready for more...?!" He said with jovial excitement. His question was rhetorical, but Jeni answered it anyway.

"Please, Mr O'Brien, please..." Jeni pleaded, gasping through tears and breathless despair. "Wait, I... Please, just wait... I don't... Aaaahhhhh!!"

Becky half squirmed, half grimaced. She could almost feel the fire spreading through Jeni's body as the man slammed forward with his hips, shoving another couple of inches into her tight little arse.

Oh but she was getting it good. 

The worse cocks for anal were the fat ones and, fucking Christ, was that one wide! Like a coke can!

Becky's mind whirled with conflict. She enjoyed a sadistic glee at the fairness of goodie-two-shoes taking some cock-humiliation for once. The panty-dampening horniness of the sheer voyeuristic delight of the sights and sounds of some old guy hammering his fat dick up her sister's hot little arse. But, of course there was also an irritating though undeniable sympathy. Becky had been there and knew well how it felt to be in that position and on some level she loved her sister and she certainly envied her brains and looks. And that made her feel somewhat sorry for her plight.

But not that much. Becky told herself with a little grin. Her fingers slipped down past the waistband of her denim shorts and through the dampness of her soft pubic mound.

She started to masturbate as she watched the PE Teacher digging his fingers into that juicy arse, drawing back to reveal more of the ruddy, cinched cock, before he hammered forward again. This time he deposited the entirety of his fat shaft up her luscious little arse.

Jeni screamed out at the final heartless and invasive thrust. Her young body quaked in the hot torment suffusing her, torso bucking, head thrashing and throwing her pretty brunette tresses around her head like a dark-cloud, while her eyes squeezed themselves shut trying to blot out the pain, tossing hot tears down her flushed anguished face.

The old man, with an impassioned groan of exquisite pleasure then started to shove back and forth with his hips. His hands scrabbling all over Jeni's prone, tensed body for adequate purchase he dug his fingers into her small, pert buttocks, her narrow hips, tiny waist, slender shoulders, upper thighs, reached under her for those full quivering breasts. He grasped at her hair, and the nape of her neck, even at her throat while his hips pummelled her. Bringing constant and desperate wails and whimpers out of her.

He had lost all compassion now, as Becky knew he would. He was sodomising the gorgeous girl for all he was worth and was making the most out of enjoying his illicit, illegal venture.

Becky felt no obligation to stay any longer. She had all their money and once this old fart was done up her arse, then others would only have ten minutes each to play with her. Then Jeni could clean herself up and get back to her previous revision or whatever she had been doing.

She drew her slick finger out of her hot snatch and adjusted her shorts.

And then, with one last look at Jeni and the PE Teacher - who was now clamping a hand over the girl's open mouth, in an attempt to stifle the whimpering pleas for mercy she was constantly squealing while his other hand slapped down hard on her perky little arse again and again - Becky shrugged and turned her back on the bedroom.

Even after she'd slammed the front door shut she could still hear her sister's muffled cries from the bedroom. She was reminded of that weird foreign film the lad had been watching at that house party a couple of weeks ago, that European tit bitch from Matrix was in it getting raped in a corridor or somewhere. She hadn't seen much of it, they had been making her suck two cocks at the time. But the lads, enjoying that particular scene a bit too much, had turned the volume up to hear her muffled cries as she was cruelly raped on the floor.

Then they had wanted to re-enact it with as many of the partying girls as they had been able to get their hands on. So the scene had stuck in her mind since. Oh, yeah... Irreversible... That was the name of the film...



Part 2 - 8 O'clock.

"Right... Okay... that's... What... Hundred and ten quid so far... plus the twenty from Jane 'n Kylie..." She told herself, counting out the wad of fives, tens and twentys in the shadows of the taped off stairwell. "So a hundred 'n thirty."

She'd heard some chick had got gangbanged there, some nurse or something. It had been filmed and sold on the black market.

Since then some graffiti artist had popped in and emblazoned an extremely graphic and anatomically impossible representation of it. It was actually very well done - which of course meant it had been defaced already by less talented taggers, who had added silly knob outlines and glasses and beards to the rapists.

Becky shuffled a little. She was nervous in here and as well she should be. The brutality of the protracted rape, which a lot of the older lads had seen, either live as it had been happening, or on film later, had prohibited most people from passing anywhere this stairwell. People, especially the girls, avoided it like the plague.




Chav Ch. 01



But while she had this cash, she needed to hide it well and she needed to do it without anyone seeing her. 

Right then, another hundred 'n sixty to find, in what, four hours? What the fuck was she going to do?! 

She lit a cigarette and inhaled the sickly smoke while she thought about it.

There was Rochelle the cute black dyke she was mates with. Well, she wasn't really a dyke, she liked lads well enough, it was just that she liked 'fucking bitches' as well.

Anyway, she owed Becky fifty quid. Well, it was time to pay up, she decided, starting to feel the first pangs of desperation.

She crossed the edge of the concrete square with the burned out car following the line of the gallery to Rochelle's dad's flat. But her brother said she was out, maybe at Jaime's.

Becky then had the idea of simply texting Rochelle to find out where she was but almost simultaneously realised that she had left her mobile phone beside her bed at home. She considered nipping back to collect it but she found herself worrying that lad might still be loitering around. And he might still be horny for her. Besides, Jaime's bungalow was just beyond the boundary of the Oakfield estate, so Becky made her decision to head over there on the off chance that Rochelle would be there.

She stepped across the weed and butt-end strewn boundary of her estate and crossed the road. 

A cheaply souped up white Ford Fiesta shot by her, beeping it's horn. It slowed down and a skinhead twenty something with a two litre cider bottle in one raised hand leaned out of the passenger window and shouted at her as the car stated to take the next corner.

"Hey chav whore! How 'bout we pick you up, take you t'multi-storey and gangbang you all fucking night long, you can take four at a time can't you!?" He yelled harshly, drunk and trying to amuse his friends.

"Four one inch dicks? Fuck you all! You couldn't get a fucking gerbil off you wanker!" She shouted back, whishing she had a bottle to throw at them. But the car was already moving out of sight around the bend. They probably hadn't even heard her.

The quickest way to Holden street where Jaime lived was the paved alley that ran along the fenced off backs of Vesta Lane, a route Becky always took.

It was almost a pleasant little walk, seven foot wooden slatted fences with little matching gates into the back garden's of the Vesta Lane houses, lined either side of the black tarmac paved walkway, all kept strangely devoid of weeds and litter, maybe by the wind or some fuddy-duddy neighbourhood watch group. It was a world apart from that seedy graffiti scarred wasteland of the Oakfield estate.

Becky saw a girl coming toward her down the alley, heading her way. She was a little thing, only ten or eleven maybe. She was quite pretty though, she was carrying some puppy fat and her hair, pulled up into a tight low ponytail, was practically platinum blonde.

Most interesting of all though was that she clutched a crisp ten pound note in one hand. It was brazen naiveté.

Becky smiled to herself at the easy pickings, flicked her cigarette to the floor and scooped the lock knife out of the back pocket of her denim shorts. She ignored the girl, let her pass by and then turned quickly and grabbed her by the pony tail, yanking her back toward her.

"Hey what're doin'?" She gasped in shock trying to pull free and hurting her scalp in the process. "Gerrof me y'bitch! Gerrof me 'air!"

"Gimme that fucking tenner or I'll cut your eyes out!" Becky snarled, whipping the knife forward into the girl's line of sight. But even as she made the threat, she managed to snatch the money out of the girl's grasp before she had to or comply or refuse. 

"Thank you!" She said with cruel irony and then shoved the girl to the black paved floor.

"What the fuck d'you think you're doing, slag?!" A gruff voice cut through the moment of power-high that Becky was enjoying and she whipped her head around to see someone approaching. 

He was a tall twenty something gym-freak, wearing a tight, pale red t-shirt, baggy silky looking trousers, with a white tribal pattern running from ankle to knee and white trainers. 

He came to a stop only a couple of feet away from her, towering over her and glowering.

Becky went on the defensive.

"What's it got to do with you?! And who're you calling a slag?"

"That's my little cousin, slag!"

"Well she just nicked my tenner off me!" She lied, badly.

"Did she fuck!" He retorted.

His eyes momentarily darted to the knife held low in her right hand, then to his niece, who was slowly getting up off the ground behind the chav slag. 

"Her dad asked her to get cigs for him. It's his bastard tenner." Then he turned his attention to his cousin, fishing another note out of his own pocket and handing it to the child.

"Linda, get off to' shop then go straight back 'ome. Me and this chav piece're gonna have a little chat."

"Like fuck we are!" Becky snarled using her rising fear to fuel her considerable anger. She moved the knife into more plain view, threatening it's use. 

Gym Freak smiled and then took a leaf out of Becky's book. He quickly reached down and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her toward him.

She yelled out, cursing and instinctively lashed out with the knife, the fact that the blade was pointing in the wrong direction didn't seem to occur to her. 

Gym Freak used his forearm as a shield and then grabbed her wrist and squeezed. Becky cursed again and the knife fell from her grip.

Keeping hold of her pony tail, Gym Freak let go of her wrist, pulled her abruptly to keep her off balance, and then stooped down to pick up the knife.

"Fuck, it's not even sharp." He laughed, tossing the knife away. "You couldn't kill a fucking insect with that! C'mon."

He dragged her, struggling and cursing, by the hair toward the side of the pathway, stuck a thick finger through a drilled hole in one of the wooden gates and swung the door inwards, hustling the seventeen year old in after him. 

He shoved her forward, letting go of her and then turned and shut the gate, slapping the draw bolts at the top and bottom for good measure.

Becky inexplicably found herself wondering how he had known this one was unbolted. And why he was pulling her into someone's backyard. Surely they wouldn't be very happy to have too strangers breaking into their property. He answered her unvoiced question casually.

"These people are on holiday." He announced, waving idly at the direction of the house's patio windows. "And no one's in next door either so we won't be disturbed."

"What're you going to do?" Becky asked.

Now her fear was starting to show itself in the tremulous note of her voice.

"What do you do to slags? Empty my balls up you, of course!"

"Fuck off!" She yelled and tried to dart around him. He laughed, enjoying the idea of a game of catch, of a lay playing hard to get.

Becky's eyes rolled left and right taking in her surroundings, searching for an escape, or possibly a weapon.

It was a small, tidy garden, with a paved area separating the back of the house from the lawn, which was beginning to look overgrown. Half the paved area was taken up with a dull brown though new looking shed, which was securely padlocked.

There were two wheelie bins against the wall of the house between the patio doors and the back door. There was an empty plant pot on the windowsill next to the wheelie bins, that was brimming with scummy rain water. And against the fence by the backdoor was a short line of more potted plants, these ones weed infested and even a couple of discarded wine bottles beside them. Like the windowsill plant pot, the bottles were all full of rain water from the recent downpours.

Becky's eyes locked onto the bottles and the plant pots. She could throw water in his face then run for the gate. But she doubted it would give her enough time to unbolt the door and sprint off down the alley before he was all over her again.

Maybe grab one of the bottles? If she'd been drunk she wouldn't have thought twice about glassing the bastard in the face but devoid of Dutch-courage, she didn't dare.

As her mind scratched around the back garden looking for aid, Gym Freak pounced.

His face was suddenly an inch from hers grinning maliciously, lusty fire burning in his blue eyes. An arm encircled her narrow waist, powerful and immovable as an iron bar and she was hoisted up so that her feet cleared the paved ground.

"Get off me you fucking cunt!" She shouted, slapping at his wide bulging shoulders. He just laughed. Get your fucking hands off me!"

"Shouting like that just sounds like we're having a lover's tiff, no one's going to come." He grinned. 

His free hand mauled her body. He shoved between the unzipped flaps of her jacket and squeezed her breasts, exploring their firmness and size and heat, searching out her stiff nipples through her bra and t-shirt.

"Nice fucking fun bags!" 

Then his questing hand descended, stroking quickly down her stomach across her narrow bones to her groin which his cupped with his palm against the denim of her shorts, pressing his fingers to her vulva through her clothes enjoying the emanating heat.

His fingers hooked into the gusset of her shorts which was already worn thin and threadbare, he felt the split-mound of her pussy lips against the thin material of her tight thong underwear, all the while grunting and moaning in his excitement.

Becky lost it, she clawed as his face but again he deflected her attack with meaty arms, this time his grin momentarily faded. He slapped her hard across the face, almost jarring her jaw bone.

Becky's struggles more or less ended then and there. She still struggled under his groping grasp and tried to wedge her arms inside his to prise his grip free but her attempts to hurt or injure him were abandoned by that meaningful slap.

"What if I was to start screaming rape? Or shout for help?!" She enquired in a low voice.

His grin vanished again while he replied.

"You wouldn't be that stupid... Just take your punishment like a good girl." He added and then whipped her around in his embrace so she had her back to him, took three quick unbalanced steps to the wheelie bins and dumped her face down over them, so her legs dangled helplessly over the side.

A thick heavy weight of his hand and forearm planted itself firmly on her lithe back and across the top of her buttocks pining her onto the lid of the bin.

The hand planted onto the small of her back might as well have been the whole of him sat there, nothing she could do could budge it. She braced her arms under her on the bin lid and pushed, trying to lift herself off but it was useless, he was too strong. 

Of course, all the while Gym Freak's free hand mauled her arse and pussy lips through her shorts. Becky squirmed and spat curses struggling against the unwanted sexual assault,. She detested the overexcited feel of his fingers, like those of a child just given a new toy to play with, caressing and pinching the groove of her honey centred peach, stroking little fast circles around the hood of her tingling clitoris, only two thin layers of cotton between his flesh and hers.

Then the same fingers hooked around the threadbare denim crotch again and with a hard sudden tug, which rocked the bin, Becky's shorts found themselves ripped into a miniskirt.

The sudden moment of hard aggression snatched a frightened squeal from Becky as the gusset of her denim shorts came away in the Gym Freak's iron fist.

"That's fucking better!" He elated with a happily grunt, lust colouring his smooth voice. He let the threadbare tuft of cloth flutter away in the summer evening air.

Then he reached beneath the skirt to peel the thong and tights quickly down to her knees.

"Mmmm! Nice ass!" He commented, clamping both hands on her firm peachy bottom.

"Get the fuck off me you cunt!" Becky squealed as a broad thumb passed across the puckered mouth of her sphincter.

"Try and get up and I'm gonna punch you right in the cunt!" He said, though his sexual pleasure in his voice somehow belied the violence of his threat. He was simmering with sexual excitement.

She felt him kneeling down, both hands pressing tight on her cool buttocks, squeezing into her flesh and muscle, spreading them apart. Then his face was against her soft warm pussy, his lips touching, tongue dipping forward to taste her and Becky quailed in helpless revulsion.

"Ohhh! You bastard! You fucking bastard!" She moaned as his tongue started to cause sensations that she didn't want. 

"Like I said. Slag." He laughed in response to her flowing juices and cooed a little, a throaty gurgle.

And then he was busy with his tongue, lapping at her flowing honey, enjoying her mental torture as much as the sweet taste of her.

It was a few moments of slurping oral and fingers digging lovingly into her ass cheeks before Gym Freak came up for air.

Becky, panting, felt one hand leave her arse for a moment and then a wave of sickening panic nearly bowled her over as she heard gym freak's trouser zip coming down, a smooth metallic purr that meant it was all over for her - he would be going up her any moment and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

She squirmed again, this time craning her neck to try and see behind her, to see the form that her punishment was going to take, it's size and it's girth, but laughing, he wouldn't let her as, once more, a hand slammed down hard between her shoulders pinning her in place.

"Wriggle much?" He said grunting, and Becky gasped as she felt the hard, spongy heat of his erect truncheon slap down onto the cool flesh of her pert buttocks, one and then the other, drumming her resilient flesh back and forth with his hard cock.

She twisted as much as he would let her, while he stroked the underside flesh of his erection up and down her ass cleavage, stroking her pussy lips, spreading them and then teasing her with the flow of her own warm honey.

"So you've got me wet you twat, so fucking what!? Let's just get on with it!"

"You're in too much of a hurry slag." He replied gleefully. "And you're jumping to a few too many conclusions. I'm not going up there, this is meant to be punishment for mugging my cousin. I'm going up your backdoor instead." He said with a malicious laugh.

"No please! Stick it in me if you have to, but do my pussy, don't rape my arse, please!"

She was desperate. The memory of Jeni's face as she took a fat cock up her arse still fresh in her mind.

"No chance, I'm giving this nice little ass a good hard seeing to!" He laughed.

Becky strained her neck, twisting herself as much as she dared to see behind her. She needed to see his cock, see what he was going to stick up her butt. 

But try as she might his anatomy was out of her view, then she caught sight of it after all, a warped reflection in one of those water filled wine bottles. And it looked gargantuan. Long and horribly thick, the fat bulbous helmet that topped the forearm size shaft looked almost purple it was that swollen by his lust, with a wide flaring base that made her wince at the thought of stretching her ass hole.

The pressure on her back lifted momentarily and a moment later the reflection moved. As Gym Freak picked up the bottle before coming back to her still bent over form.

She moaned and whimpered, her half naked body quivering a little, waiting for the thing to hurt her, and almost at once he was pressing up against her buttocks and thighs and the heat of his hard muscle shaft burned her pussy lips. Then his fat knob levelled out and forced its way into her and Becky let out a long low whinnying sound as the fat length of meat pierced her embarrassingly soaked cunt.

"Ha, ha. Like that do you?" Gym Freak muttered gripping her cool, smooth ass cheeks and pushing all of his shaft into her pussy.

"Hhhhmmm..." Becky responded despite herself.

"I just did that for the lube factor." He laughed, then pulled out and pressed his now lightly lubricated erection up against Becky's sphincter.

"No!" She wailed. "I can't... Don't make me... Ugghhh!"

Gym Freak ignored her and started pushing, trying to gain entry into that lovely little anus, pinching at the fat stem of his engorged cock in one hand, trapping the hardness inside while squeezing Becky's ass tightly with his free hand. 

She held her breath, trembling beneath him as the insistent pressure against her sphincter increased.

Then she let out another long whimper, responding to a sharp pain as the hot crown of his large cock asserted itself against the puckered mouth of her arse. The blunt heat of that heavy crown startling against the cool flesh of her exposed buttocks.

"You really should relax you know, it'd make it easier on you." Gym Freak commented lightly and then, as Becky turned to throw some jibe back at him over her shoulder she saw with shocked tearful eyes Gym Freak tipping the bottle of icy rain water over her buttocks. 

Her whimpering hiss quickly burgeoned into a guttural gasp of icy shock and continuing exertion as she reacted to the freezing lash of the icy water splattering her arse cheeks, running between them and down her inner thighs.

Gym Freak laughed, threw the bottle aside and now with both hands gripping her pert buttocks, he shoved forward again and this time her sphincter stretched open around his insatiably pushing erection.

The tight elastic ring of her anal mouth gave way and Gym Freak's fat bloated phallic crown slid suddenly into Becky's tiny asshole.

"Jesus fucking Christ!! She all but screamed as her tightly clenching defence completely failed and her sphincter was compelled to accommodate the invading mushroom base of his hot crown. The large cock head popped audibly deep into her rectum, leaving the remaining meat battling for entry against the now defeated, though still fighting, ring of anal muscle.

"Fuuuck! That hurts!! You bastard! ...Ohhhh! ...Ahhh! You fucking sonnovabitch! I fucking hate you! Cunt!" She snarled through her pain clenched teeth.

"Oh fuck yeah!!" He grunted exultant as he forced more difficult inches of his thick hardness into her tight little arse. "You've really got a great ass for fucking slag, it's so fucking tight!"

And then with one last shove he was all the way up her and immediately drawing back to thrust all the way in again.

He drove into her anus with a hard, deep, assault, slow to begin with, but increasing his speed once he found a good rhythm.

The bin shook on it's wheels, rocking back and forth, aiding Gym Freak's penetration of Becky's anal tunnel. Becky herself was squealing in her anguish, her feet slamming against the plastic side of the bin like drum sticks rattling out a military march.

But for Gym Freak the noise was a little excessive, so he reached across to the window ledge and grabbed the plant pot. With a malicious grin, he dumped the freezing cold contents over her head.

Becky screamed even more in shock at the cold shower that had suddenly drenched her, so Gym Freak half heartedly clonked her on the back of the head with the plastic plant pot.

"Pipe down...!" He growled at her while tossing the empty plant pot over onto the lawn. "...You don't want to attract too much attention, you might end up getting train ganged..."

That suggestion was enough to get Becky to drop a few decibel's right away.

"A lot of my mates around here, you know and they wouldn't say no to having a piece of you. We've all got a thing for you teenage skanky chav sluts."

This time as he resumed his hard drilling thrusts, her squeals had descended to milder curses and moans and whimpers.

So Gym Freak railed on her brutally for the next ten minutes, shoving his tightly cinched length in and out of her searing guts, tugging on her hair to help propel his deliberate sadism. All the while voicing his obvious pleasure with rough gleeful grunts.




Chav Ch. 02



Chav 2

BECKY TAYLOR'S BACK!

PART ONE:

THE TROJAN METHOD

"Hey! They've got that Becky Taylor's doing a lez show with some blonde piece upstairs. Come'n av'a look mate!"

Thinking of Becky Taylor, that sexy teen slut with the brown hair and great body, Paul excitedly climbed the stairs, following the other teenage lad. His balls were empty for the moment, but his dick was still tingling, and the half bottle of vodka in his hand was aiding his youthful vigour already. Seeing that dirty bitch and some hot blonde getting it on in front of an audience might be something to see.

He wondered for a moment about his date, Emma McDonald, the reason his balls were empty. She was downstairs somewhere, entertaining a couple of gang lads from the estate. Without her consent of course, but who cared about what bitches thought anyway? They were there to bang. And he'd had his fun on her, now it should be someone else's turn.

He had asked McDonald to the house party on the spur of the moment after class on Thursday and had been gratified, enjoying a big bulging hard-on, when she'd said okay. He wasn't bothered about her now though. He'd already fucked her, which he'd been after doing since the get go. But now it was time for fresh meat.

He had picked her up outside her house, admittedly a little disappointed in her attire. The tightness of her baby blue denim jeans was nice and showed off her fleshy but pert ass and curvy legs, but her upper body was quite well concealed in a navy blue hoodie with bright pink graffiti emblazoned across her nicely bouncy young tits. The gold hoop earrings, gold crucifix and day-glow pink trainers completed the local chav look. A bright pink hair band drew the glossy mahogany bob back away from her round face. 

She was quite a pretty girl, maybe a little more meat on her bones than was quite necessary but she was still youthfully pert and bouncy and when she smiled her whole face lit up. There was also a definite heat in her lush brown eyes that gave her a cheeky and sexual vibe that Paul had always found very enticing, almost to the point when his horniness was uncontrollable around her. She just looked dirty, like she'd be up for anything.

He'd met her outside her house without having worked out exactly how to get her to the party. But three older black lads from Paul's estate, Asher, his elder brother and Freddie turned up in their souped up Ford Escort and offered them a lift. Paul accepted quickly, though he was very suspicious when he was offered the front passenger seat while Emma was bundled into the backseat, deliberately flanked by Asher and Freddie, with Asher's brother driving. 

They were barely around the first bend when they lads in the back seat started on Emma. At once, Asher threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, Emma cringed and lowered her head but said nothing. She was obviously afraid of them too. At the same time Freddie placed a hand on her plump thigh and gave it an exploratory squeeze. 

Of course, Emma remained silent and still and the lads, of course, chose to see it as permission to carry on at her.

To start with Paul could do nothing about it. He threw them pleading looks and had dagger eyes thrown back for his trouble. These older lads already had a reputation and Paul didn't dare go against them. At least not physically. He watched as Freddie's other hand shoved it's way down the backseat to make a grab for Emma's perky ass.

"Please..." Emma whimpered, biting her bottom lip. 

Asher shushed her as he stroked a hand down her short bob cut hair, down her cheek.

"...Don't." Emma murmured, barely above a whisper and not in the least bit convincing.

Asher pressed his index finger onto her lips to silence her and then stroked it down her throat and over the curve of her breast above her hooded top.

Emma whimpered, fighting back the urge to cry as her young breasts were then groped liberally through her top.

"Be nice won't you lads?" Paul said trying to be placating. "That's my date."

"Fuck off Paul." Freddie said sliding his thick fingers further between Emma's thighs until his thumb rested against the bulge of her pussy. Emma squirmed.

"We're bein' nice, ain't we white meat?" Asher muttered to Emma, his predatory face inches from her down cast one.

Then Asher's caressing hand hooked Emma's chin and lifted her face to meet his and he slapped his full lips onto hers, tongue worming insistently into her fear slack mouth, and he French kissed her deeply and lustfully. Her hand came up in a reactionary flinch but she stopped herself from trying to pull him off her face. Freddie switched his molesting from upper thighs to tits. Both large hands coming up to the younger girl's chest to grasp and knead her perky handful tits.

Again she reacted, one hand snatching at his wrist but she stayed short of trying to pull his hands off her. 

Instead, she took Asher's tongue into her mouth and consented to Freddie's cruelly mauling hands on her breasts with fear-filled reluctance.

"You know about her Irish connection don't you?" Paul said. Trying to make it a casual remark. That tactic was all he could think of.

"Huh?" Freddie grunted. One hand tugging down the zipper of his trousers over the Herculean bulge of his erection, the other all but crushing Emma's tits in his rough palm.

"Her Uncle's in the Reals mate."

"What the fuck are you drivelling about honky?!"

"The Real IRA. They're the ones who supply your lot with your guns you know..."

"So fucking what?!"

"Well, you don't wanna go risking that for some Friday night backseat fuck do you?"

"Friday night backseat train-gang fuckwit! We're all sinking our meat and she's gonna take it! All three fuckin' holes. We gonna romp her all fucking weekend. An' she'll be dropping sprogs before she's sat her mocks!" Freddie grunted crudely while he levered his huge hard cock, a foot long ebony shaft of granite and then grabbed one of Emma's hands making her wrap her fingers around it's hard heat. "Besides, you're a fucking liar."

"What if I'm not?"

"Hang on..." Asher grunted, pulling back from Emma's tear-wet, obediently tongue sucking mouth. He held her eyes with his. "This true slut?"

Emma nodded mutely.

"Fuck!!"

"Fuck 'em bros, we're here anyways." Asher's brother announced.

He'd been driving silently, using his rear view mirror to watch the fun in the back seat. "Fuck off out chalk runts!" He snapped at the passengers.

Paul made sure Emma was out of the car before he climbed out himself and he had to watch as she was made to clamber over Asher's bulk, watch their hands get one last dirty feel up of her tits and ass before she shook them off and clambered out of the car. 

"We'll see you again Emma McDonald." Freddie shouted after them as the car screeched away.

"Thanks Paul, that was good thinking about the IRA. I was starting to think I'd be getting raped in that car."

"I think you would have been, it was pretty close."

"Nice friends you have. Though, thanks for saving me. I owe you."

"No Probs. You okay?"

"Just get me a good strong drink and I will be."

Paul got his date to the party without further incident and fortunately, Emma didn't seem too upset or preoccupied by the backseat assault.

The assault that Paul wouldn't have been embarrassed to admit had only invigorated his lust for her. 

He managed an arm around her waist during the walk from the street to the house and his height enabled him to look straight down the neckline of her hoodie. The perspective gave him a very erotic and tantalising view of the tops of her young breasts that were bouncing rhythmically to the pace of her walk inside their uplifting bra. It wasn't a great view but the youth and perkiness of her breasts gave them a pronounced quiver that made his eyes bulge and his already hard cock tingle with renewed desire.

His seduction technique in hand, he excited her with flattery and jokes and his brand of cocky self confidence, collected some drinks and eventually found them a quiet spot in the corner of a deserted dining room.

It was thickly carpeted with a large glass fronted cabinet with the usual ornaments opposite the door. French windows to the right, blocked by full length thick curtains, an oval teak dining table with matching teak chairs in front of the windows, filling half of the room. 

Paul chose a small arm chair with a side table and reading lamp to the left near the cabinet. Arm around her waist, breathing in her scent and getting himself more and more horny and worked up by her proximity, he led her to the armchair and proceeded to fill her with gin and recently bought GHB (the salty crystals without her knowledge, of course) and then let the euphoria and loss of inhibition take over. Subsequently, it had only taken about a further ten minutes after she'd finished her drink before he slid his dick into her.

He slid down into the wide armchair alongside her, enjoying the feel of her warm and soft body pressed against his. Her tits looked pretty big under the hoodie, though admittedly, having seen her in her around often enough, he knew they were barely a handful apiece. Even so, they felt delightfully soft and warm, like hot-water bottles pressing against his wiry toned chest. Her plump thighs were firm and warm against his own skinny legs. Her breath, a heady mix of gin, fruity chewing gum and menthol cigs, warmed his face as he leaned in close to her, enjoying the fiery glow in her intoxicated, smouldering eyes. His intimately caressing hand found the heat of her upper thigh but she seemingly hadn't noticed. She looked back at him and giggled. Her mouth was open a little and that was it. She was his.

She happily let him kiss her, a couple of tentative touches then full on, horny and mutual oral tongue fucking. She had not resisted at all, letting him caress her inner thighs through her tight jeans. She had only weakly tried to pull his groping fingers from her handful tits, while, all the same, she continued to suck his tongue and drink their mingled saliva.

She was a good kisser too, a dirty kisser, hot excited tongue all over the place, almost hyperactive. And it carried on that way when she sucked his dick, though it took another few minutes to get to that stage. In the meantime, her hungry French kisses threw an extra few bars of steel into his already throbbing hard erection.

He'd shifted his weight, leaning onto her so if she tried to move she wouldn't be able to get away, but she hadn't really complained much when he'd pressed her small delicate hand to his crotch and it had only taken a couple of times of pressing her hand back to his solid dick before it stayed there, stroking and squeezing his hardness obediently.

She'd struggled and moaned a little more when he had shoved his hand under her top to get to her tits beneath, but he was in control by then and felt her up to his heart's content, squeezing the soft flesh and tweaking her hard hot nipples through her bra, then yanking her top right up under her chin so he could suck and chew on them. 

She'd moaned and panted with weak complaint but her hands had continued to massage his cock and ball sack obediently inside his opened trousers.

A minute later, once his drool was dribbling down her naked tits, he'd climbed up her and knelt up on the plush arms of the chair with his long throbbing erection shoved up into her flushed face. He had leaned in close so she couldn't get away from his invasive dick and pressed it to her wet lips, which were already slick and parted. The shaft slid into her mouth and he leaned forward at once, pushing it all the way in. She whimpered a little but sucked none the less. Soon enough she seemed to forget the dick in her mouth was uninvited and the frantic dirty tongue use came into play again, almost at once.

Emma had struggled only a little while he pulled her head deeper onto his swollen cock, ignored her gagging moans when he pushed into her throat and started to face fuck her. 

She had been half struggling and half enjoying herself, all the while fighting with the drug's influence and loosing, to Paul's horny glee. 

He let her take the lead and work at sucking him off for a few minutes, while his hand reached between them to play with her soft tits again and then, with some difficulty, down under the waistband of her tight jeans.

She only half heartedly tried pushing his hands from her body, numb attempts to stop him pulling her tight jeans off, even while he'd been thrusting his hard on down her throat over and over.

Once he was finally in her knickers and frantically frigging her with two excited fingers, enjoying the flow of her teenage juices, the other hand gripped the top of her head and she just kind of gave up the struggle and went with the flow. 

While he humped her face, Paul somehow managed to drag Emma's jeans past her knees and then he abruptly yanked his engorged dick out of her mouth, bent her legs up to her shoulders, leaned in close and then with a deep groan of lustful satisfaction, drove his erection into her slick cunt.

She gasped, shook and arched upward as her cunt was filled and stretched and then moaned loudly as he started to hammer into her as hard and fast as he could.

There were two other lads from Emma's class at the party that must have recognised her as she arrived and searched around the house until they found her, seemingly drunk and already being fucked in a chair. For a little while they just stood in the doorway quietly watching her taking a hard dicking. But after a few seconds they were shuffling around the edge of the room trying to get a better view of her partly naked body. Soon enough they had grown more confident, and being bigger than Paul unconcerned by interfering with his fun. As for Paul he was just enjoying ramming his dick up Emma McDonald with her prone and helpless underneath him. There for his pleasure.

One of the lads came around the side of the chair and a second later a hand slid between Paul and Emma's copulating bodies to snatch up one of her young shuddering tits, giving it a rather cruel exploratory squeeze.

Emma squirmed and muttered a complaint at the harsh touch of the newcomer, but she was ignored by both him and Paul. Then the other lad came around the back of the chair. This was Ernie, a big black lad who had moved here with his parents from somewhere in Africa. He was a bully and aggressive, known and feared by the other Oakfield teenagers. He also had an eye for white girls. There was a rumour that he'd arse raped a young supply teacher during school detention. Who knew if the rumour was true. She had never turned up the following day. Or any day since.

Ernie looked down at Emma's quivering naked flesh from above, leaning over the back of the chair. Before he caught Paul's eye.

"Dirty bitch McDonald, huh? Not bad... We'll let you play, but she's ours once you've shot your load, got it?!" He announced with obvious threat.

"Sure." Paul shrugged, unconcerned.

"Lean back some more, McDonald needs feeding. And hurry the fuck up and finish off in her." Ernie added gruffly.

He came around to the side of the chair, unzipped his loose chino pants and hauled out a horrifically enormous cock. It was more than twice the length of Paul's and almost as thick as his wrist. It was just stupidly proportioned, Paul thought to himself.

"Gimme some of that salsa, dude." Ernie muttered to his companion who was still enjoying the feel of Emma's naked tits. The other lad, who Paul recognised but didn't know, drew a plastic bag from his tracksuit pants pocket and tossed it to Ernie.

It looked like the same white crystals that Paul had used to get his dick into Emma in the first place. Paul hoped she wouldn't end up overdosing or anything.

Ernie then clambered up onto the chair, planted his feet on the arm rests with his gigantic penis bashing McDonald straight in the face. Holding the steel hard shaft steady, he sprinkled a long line of the date rape drug onto the length of his cock and then pressed it towards the girl's mouth. He had to physically pull her mouth open and ease his cock in past her lips, she was so out of it, but once his shaft was somehow languishing on her tongue, he pressed the rest of his length into her, inch by salty inch. Emma gagged and whimpered horribly but somehow, maybe from the relaxing symptom of the drug, took the shaft right the way down her bulging throat. 

"Fuck me! The dirty little whore! I can't believe she took it all!" Ernie's friend gasped.

"She didn't have no fucking choice dude!"

"Seems like she's getting used to it even!"

"She'd better, she's getting it up her arse in a minute!"

Paul couldn't see much as Ernie's muscular buttocks were blocking his view but the sounds and reality of what he was doing to her was enough to bring his spunk straight up from his balls. Digging fingers cruelly into her soft meaty flesh, he grunted loudly and thrust in deep one last time and then emptied his hot plentiful load right up into her throbbing hot pussy. 

He drained his twitching, heavy balls into her and then quickly withdrew. At once, Emma's body was swallowed up by the larger frames of the other two horny lads.

Paul wasn't bothered. He was satisfied now. He'd got her naked, felt her up, had her mouth on him, fucked her good and shot his load up her, Paul didn't care if Ernie and his friend were taking possession of Emma McDonald. She'd served her purpose as far as he was concerned.

Achingly staggering back from the chair, he righted his clothes and eased his slick though flaccid penis back into his briefs. A harsh squeal from the chair grabbed his attention and he looked back at Emma, saw Ernie's mate standing behind the chair holding the girl's legs tight up to the chair back, her knees framing her face, bent double in the chair. Her hands scrabbled weakly at the chair arms as Ernie leaned forward and started to force his hard and obscenely proportioned erection into her tiny exposed anal mouth.

"No! It hurts! Don't!" She screamed. Her voice was, interestingly, much less weakened than her limbs.

"Shut up! You're gonna take it! Then you're gonna take Carl's too 'cause you're such a fucking slag!" Ernie growled with his combined aggression and sexual passion.

The other lad, Carl apparently, had to hook an arm across Emma's calves so he could press the palm of his other hand over her mouth, to muffle the anguished shrieks that were brought on by Ernie's huge black cock pushing its way up into her ass.

Paul watched with a mixture of horniness, vague sympathy and jealousy as Emma was forcibly sodomised on the arm chair. 

Once others got wind of free pussy she'd probably be taking random dick for the rest of the night, whether she wanted to or not. Oh well. He'd enjoyed first dibs on the slut and that was all he'd been after. Maybe a good hard butt fuck would have been a good bonus, but there was always later... If she wasn't too sloppy or stretched out by then. 

Paul mentally shrugged and then headed upstairs.



The two girls were in a bedroom, almost a dozen boys crowded around the doorway and against the walls of the luminous pink and yellow adorned room of a teenage girl. It could have been the blonde's, who was sharing the bed with Taylor, the two hotties kneeling on the mattress facing each other. Then again, it could have been anyone's. There were plenty of other teenage chav sluts downstairs in the other rooms.

The girls had already started but it seemed to be a slow beginning as, when Paul got there, craning his neck to see past the other horny lads, there was little more than kissing going on, slow gentle kissing. It was apparently boring for most of them, but for Paul it was kind of a nice build up to the heavier stuff.




Chav Ch. 03



Chav 3.

Enemy Territory. 

PART ONE:

BROTHERLY LOVE.

"So, how long is your Barry gonna be staying on the sofa?" Emma McDonald moaned. 

It was a moan within a moan, the question was a guarded complaint and was mixed in with a horny, guttural and unequivocally sexual sound, but the duality seemed to have been wasted on Ray. 

They were in the bathroom of Ray's terrace house, sharing the hot water spray of the shower. The stainless steel apparatus was screwed into the tiled wall above the bath with a glass screen to keep the hot rain from spraying the linoleum floor. The unimaginative white and blue tiled bathroom was filled with hot steaming mist that made everything beyond the bath a hazy, vague, colour palette without detail.

Of course they were both naked, their flesh well lubricated with shower spray, soap suds and shampoo bubbles. It hadn't taken long before the mutual shared showering turned into a frantic, horny and noisy fuck. Hence Emma's horny, breathy and guttural moaning.

Raymond Mather tensed his hairy, shower smoothed legs and hoisted Emma upward. She was pressed against his chest, her arms around his neck as her lips abruptly mashed against his, tongue darting in his hungry mouth with a passionate horniness that she never seemed to loose when he was around. 

He had one arm around her upper back, his forearm half crushed between Emma and the icy cold tiled wall, the other clamped tight on her meaty ass, cupping and squeezing hard at the chosen ass cheek while she gyrated against him with her strong agile hips, working the half length of his throbbing, super-hard cock inside her ever hot and damp, clutching pussy.

Christ, he thought, with an inward chuckle. She'd shag me into an early grave if I let her fuck me every time she wanted, the horny little bitch!

He still marvelled at the intensity of how he apparently made her feel. She told him how much she loved him and wanted him almost every day, but he could never quite get his head around it. Let alone how horny he apparently made her. If she had her way they be fucking twenty four seven!

Why he didn't let her fuck him twenty four seven was something else he couldn't understand, except for the fact that at almost forty he no longer had the energy or libido to match hers.

He started up a thrusting pace to match her gyrating hips and pumped his shaft in her tight young cunt, finding an angle that worked the ridge of his swollen, erect crown against the clutching walls of her tight teenage pussy.

Christ, she was a really good fuck. Easily the best he'd had, but she was insatiable when it came to him. Unbelievably, even though he was more than twenty years her senior, all too often he had to turn her down when she wanted sex. It was an embarrassing mix of him not having the stamina he had enjoyed in his youth and that these days he tended to tire easily. Plus the fact that she was hard to please. No, that wasn't right. He wanted to please her. He loved her too and wanted to please her as much as she pleased him, but to put it simply he was lazy. It took effort to get her off and he couldn't always manage it. No that wasn't right either. He couldn't be bothered making the effort.

He was secure with her and knew he didn't have to make much of an effort to keep her. So why should he bother? He'd have to put an awful lot of feet wrong for her to fuck him off and that made him lazy. Making it her own fault in a way. 

And, more fool her. She often, more often than not, opted to suck him off, which was always the best for him. It fed his laziness for one and he'd always loved a good blow job and Emma had a fantastic mouth. She could deep throat. And she had a great talent at sucking the cum right out of his balls. She even swallowed and cleaned up afterwards. Hard working, neat and clean.

She was always willing, though he suspected often disappointed that it was all she was going to get. Too often he fought down his minor sense of guilt and either allowed her to suck him to climax or even worse asked her too, so he wouldn't have to go through the effort of fucking her and trying to make her cum.

Best of all she never even seemed that bothered. She never complained. He might catch a glimpse of disappointment in her eye but he could ignore that easily enough. And she always put her all into pleasing him no matter what. Every time she'd expertly deep throat him until he shot his load, continue to work on him right through his orgasm, swallow his load completely and even clean him up afterwards. He had the best girlfriend and he knew it. 

Best yet, when he was feeling dominant, or fantasising about that mate of hers Becky Taylor, she would even take a face fucking without complaint. Gagging, yeah, but never a complaint!

Emma hooked her legs around Ray's waist and dug her heels into his buttocks, pressing inward to urge him into driving his cock deeper into her clutching pussy.

He obliged of course, with snappy grunts of passion augmenting his physical thrusts into her delightfully soaked and hot sleeve, slamming with his hips as much as her gripping thighs and calves allowed. 

If he was brutally honest Emma was a tiny bit overweight, she had a bit of a belly, the beginnings of a spare tyre, a pretty big ass, though it maintained the mouth-watering pertness of her youth, and full meaty thighs. 

However, looking at the bright side, if she wasn't that tiny bit overweight she'd have a boring little pair of tits. As it was, though not big from his point of view, they were a reasonable handful apiece and Emma always seemed pretty responsive to his attentiveness to her tits. It was a bonus in Ray's mind, he'd always been a breast man. That was more than likely why Emma's mate Becky had made such an impression on him, she'd had a great rack. A really great rack.

As if reading his mind, Emma lifted her mouth from his, straightened her arms and leaned back, pushing her hips more firmly against his thrusting hard on and lifting her chest up toward his face. 

Ray, grinning, hungrily lowered his face into her soft, wet cleavage and snatched hold of an already stiff nipple, sucking and licking at the spongy bud, while Emma moaned and squirmed against him in her soon to be cresting pleasure.

He sucked at her hot nipples and licked at the still warm shower water that cascaded down her plump breasts before lifting his face from heaven and searching out her lips and tongue again. 

Their mouths locked, tongues dancing, while he selfishly braced her against the cold tiles of the wall and power thrust into her throbbing young pussy for a few long seconds while their hungry, horny kiss continued. And then he abruptly remembered she'd asked him something in between their dirty Frenching snogs.

"Oh, 'till he finds a new place to rent I s'ppose. Squeeze my balls will you?" He said with an erotic grunt, trying not to be too distracted from his pleasure while answering her question. 

Barry's semi, on the edge of the estate, had accidentally burned almost to the ground after a recent police raid. Supposedly it had been the accidental knocking over of a candle in the confusion during the early hours. But Ray had heard from a few so called witnesses that the fire had already been raging before the police had arrived. 

Ray deliberately pushed the thought process out of his mind. Thinking about his unlucky kid brother wasn't the best aphrodisiac in the world and he was getting close to shooting his load.

Emma had managed to slide a hand down under her ass and had somehow caught hold of his heavy testicles and she was palming his balls in their sack, delicate fingers weaving their wonderfully magical touch across his scrotum, making them tighten and tingle, throwing illicit palpitations right through his lower abdomen and straight up his straining hard on. 

"Ohhhh, that's it. Fucking yeah babe! He's er... Waiting on the insurance from his place burning down. Jesus, that's good, Em... But to be honest I don't think he'll get it, you know what insurance company's are like. You don't mind him staying do you?" 

Emma's response was more than a little hesitant, but, again, Ray didn't seem to notice.

"No... Not... really... It's just, we just got some privacy after I moved in with you and now we've lost it again. I liked the way we could shag whenever and wherever we wanted."

Even as she spoke Emma could swear she could see the translucent shape of the top of Barry's head in the frosted glass panel in the locked bathroom door.

There was a tiny crack in the corner of the pane and Barry had almost immediately discovered that it made an excellent spy hole. He had been watching Emma's various trips to the bathroom since he first moved in. Every time she'd tried to cover it with something, the 'something' had miraculously disappeared, often minutes later.

He was probably wanking off while he stood there and watched Emma and his older brother naked and screwing frantically in the shower.

"We're doing that anyway aren't we?"

"It's not the same though."

"I think you're being a bit selfish Em, but... Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Yeah! Mmmm! You're too effing good at that for me to hold a grudge!"

Emma laughed in response, working her cunt muscles, caressing his hot silky erection as he thrust it firmly up and down in her tight hot and damp teenage pussy.

"Will you two hurry up, I wanna take a dump!" Barry's impatient plea came from the other side of the door. But to Emma it sounded as though he was standing right beside them and she involuntarily jumped with a barely repressed apprehension.

Ray, on the other hand, just chuckled. Nothing about Barry fazed Ray, he was blind to his faults and immune to his rudeness.

"I suppose we've been here long enough..." Ray conceded, much to Emma's annoyance, after another minute of increasingly frantic fucking. "...You don't mind getting me off with your mouth do you? State you've got me in, should only take a minute."

"Okay." With a rather forced smile, Emma acquiesced. 

She disentangled herself from her fella and slid down to her knees under the hot water spray of the sizzling shower, trying to ignore how cold it was when the shower spray wasn't directly on you. She was practically as blind and immune to Ray's faults and selfishness as he was to his brother's.

She didn't waste any time, or offer any complaint, just clutched at his scrotum with one hand and brought it to her mouth to kiss and lick and suck on his balls. At the same time she slid her other hand between his shower-sprayed buttocks and the pressed her middle finger into his anus, curling the digit back to search out his prostate. The way she knew, from experience, he liked it best. 

As he tensed at the illicit penetration and let out his usual groan of pleasure, Emma opened her mouth and plunged it all the way down his cum slick erection, tasting her own juices along the shaft as she took it all the way in, straight into her throat.

Twenty seconds of furious, deep, gag inducing, throat rasping facial pumping from Emma and Ray yelled out hoarsely and staggered, his knees going weak, as his climax broke.

Groaning loudly, he grabbed the walls in front and behind to hold him up as his cock erupted, spitting it's fire-hot liquid tribute to Emma's lusty talents, furiously right across her quick flicking tongue. 

She instinctively took him all the way in and ferociously tongue lashed his ball sack, even as his pulsing erection strained and writhed in her mouth and the bloated crown spat it's hot creamy ropes down her throat. 

She finally drew her mouth back, enjoying the feel of the last few streams of his seed splashing onto her tongue, tasting his thick spunk before she swallowed it, gulping down the last trickles of his always plentiful load and then sucked again, drawing the last few remnants from his balls and cleaning his shaft with her saliva and hard working tongue.

"Thanks sweet, that was incredible." Ray grunted hoarsely, panting and enjoying post climatic sensations, as Emma dutifully finished cleaning him up with her talented teenage mouth, before she slid her way under the shower spray to warm up and gargle the taste from her mouth.



They got dressed in silence in the steamy bathroom, picking their discarded clothes from the damp linoleum floor. Then rather hurriedly, as he was emptying his bladder, Ray flipped through his wallet, checking the few notes he had in cash.

"I'd best nip to Aldi before it shuts. I'll only be twenty minutes or so. Want me t'get some of that Peach Schnapps you like?"

"The strawberry if they've got it, babes." Emma nodded, a little absently, busy with tugging the cropped cotton pants over her hips and fastening the fly. "See you later."

Michael Mather left the bathroom and Emma heard his heavy footfalls down the carpeted stairs, then she heard the front door go. She wiped a palm sized circle of unfogged mirror glass on surface of the wall-mounted mirror while she started to run a brush through her still damp, collar-length brunette locks.

She had almost forgotten that Barry was right outside. But the second she heard the reverberating bang of the front door, why can't he use his fucking key? Barry walked into the bathroom, one hand already unbuttoning his pants.

"Fucking hell Barry, give me a minute." She complained, glaring over at him in the mirror's reflection. And then she realised her predicament.

Why it hadn't occurred to Emma that Ray had just accidentally left her alone with Barry for at least twenty minutes when she knew the younger brother was already horny from watching her and Ray shagging in the shower, she didn't know. But the second she realised she cursed herself inwardly. She had more or less been able to keep Ray between her and Barry. Or if Ray wasn't around, Emma had made sure she wasn't either. 

Ever since he'd fucked her after the whole weekend debacle with her and Becky Taylor and that Derby slut, she knew without a doubt he'd be after her for more of the same. So of course, this being an excellent opportunity, Barry was all over her like a rash.

There had been two occasions like this one before where he had got her alone, but she had managed to avoid countless others. 

The first time Ray had gone to the dole office for an interview or something and Emma hadn't expected Barry to go for her so quickly. She had however, managed to dissuade him from fucking her and talked him into accepting a blow job. So he'd pushed her to her knees right there in the kitchen, pinning her against the sink and fucking her face, banging her head over and over against the edge of the aluminium sink unit until he pulled out with a snarling grunt and shot a heavy load all over her tear stained face.

She had still been washing the spunk out of her hair in the sink and nursing the tender bump on the back of her head when Ray had come home, but of course he hadn't noticed or suspected anything.

The second occasion had been a few Fridays ago, late one night after Emma had exhausted Ray following a rare four hour shagging session. She had slipped out of their bedroom to have a quick shower before going to sleep and had been followed into the bathroom by Barry, who'd had been listening and wanking off outside the door for most of the four hours. 

Without a word he'd fucked her brutally in the shower for a painful and exhaustive half hour, but his balls had been emptied too many times already and he hadn't been able to get off. 

Finally had had given up and let Emma dry off and go back to Ray's bed, for fear of having his brother come looking for her and catching them at it.

Ever since then, Emma had been always alert and always careful never to be alone with Barry. Until now.

He wrapped his arms around her and used his weight to pin her between him and the sink. Emma tried to shove her way free of him but he was too strong for her. His hands grabbed at her soft teenage body at random, squeezing at her soft warm flesh through her clothes.

It wasn't long though before he had one of her perky handful breasts cupped in an excited palm, the pad of his thumb stroking the spongy head of a nipple, while his other hand pushed down between their bodies to get hold of the cotton encased orbs of her round buttocks and reaching further around, the soft ridge of heat between them that was the lips of her young pussy. 

Emma moaned at his intimate and unwarranted caresses but she knew she couldn't fight him off. She was scared of him and she honestly didn't know who Ray would choose between his girlfriend and brother if it came down to it. She wasn't prepared to put it to the test so up to a point, she had to keep Barry sweet. She cursed herself for letting her guard down and giving Barry time alone with her and the opportunity to put his cock in her again.

He moved back an inch and whipped her around to face him, immediately grabbed her hands and pressed them to his body, one against his lean bony arse and the other against the bulging tent of his trouser crotch.

Then he pulled her tightly against him, holding her with the iron bar strength of one hand while his free hand stroked her throat, her collar bone and shoulder before sliding down to her breasts again.

"You got him off good and proper, didn'cha!" 

He cupped her breasts again squeezing hard, his lust feeding his aggression as usual. 

"I watched you swallowin' his load. Now you'll have to do me just the same, you dirty little slut." He grunted with a grinning, animalistic, fiery look.

Then his mouth found hers and he kissed her hard, his tongue pressing sharply between her lips and forcing the kiss to turn both French and vile. Emma made herself take his hot worming tongue, made herself squeeze his arse and his erect dick with her delicate fingers. She barely withheld a pained wince as he twisted and pinched her erect nipples through her thin cotton polo shirt in his heightened horniness.

"I thought you needed a shit?" She gasped when he finally pulled his tongue from her mouth and swallowed the rancid saliva he'd deliberately fed to her.

Her language was always more coarse with Barry, a symptom of her hatred for him probably. Part of her still fought against doing something she didn't want to. Part of her hoped Barry felt the same uncertainty she did about who Ray would favour more and that he needed to keep Ray in his life as much as she did, maybe he wouldn't want to push his luck either.

"I need my balls emptying first, 'less you wanna suck me off while I'm squeezing one out on't bog?" He replied with a grunt.

Disgusted, Emma felt this violation was suddenly unbearable to her and she let go of his hot, hard, throbbing ridge and tried to pull his groping hands from her.

In retaliation, Barry insistently put her hands back where he wanted them, using a quick hard scowl as the only warning he would give her if she tired to pull away again. His hands went back to her tits, pulling her shirt up and tugging away the bra cups to molest her bared flesh with lustful cruelty.

"You're fucking disgusting!" Emma snapped in reply, but she didn't want to push her luck any further and she didn't try to free herself from him again.

"That's a 'no' then." He grinned and then spun her around, rubbing his hardness against her smooth round ass while his hand continued to maul her buoyant young tits. He turned her head to the side and forced her to accept another long horny French kiss, plying her with his eroticised tongue. 

His erection felt like a fat, foot long iron rod against her soft cheeked bottom. Emma was panting for breath when he finally pulled his mouth off hers. He tasted disgusting, stale cigs and stale booze.

"If we had more time I'd dump my load right up your shitter, but I'm gonna take my time when I ass fuck you and we both know how much of a squealer you can be, so I'll have to make do with a suck job for the time being."




Chav Ch. 04.5



Chav 4.5

Title: Another way of Getting out - Gym Freak's story.

By Nickamano.

 Friday 

Carl Devlin wondered why Becky Taylor was on his mind. Maybe it was the tits. There was something tasty about the size and perkiness of Becky's tits. He found himself thinking of them often, remembered himself enjoying them, gobbling on them, fucking them, spunking all over them.

Becky, for some reason, had always insisted on labelling Carl 'Gym Freak' the few times they'd spent time together. He understood the reference, he was one of those guys that went to the gym three or four times a week to maintain and develop his physique. And he, like the majority, did it to get girls and so lads would feel intimidated by him enough to keep their distance. It was the 'Freak' part he didn't like, but the feisty little slut knew this and did it anyway, to piss him off. She thought it was funny. He allowed Becky her little mock insult, her spiteful assumed sense of power over him, for no other reason than the fact that she had a great set of tits.

He had first noticed Becky's tits. Well, he'd first noticed her as the nasty little chav cunt who had ripped off his little cousin. But once he gave her a second look it was the tits that caught his attention. He thought there was nothing better than a big set of tits. Well as long at they weren't attached to some ugly bird at least. That was a waste.

Aly Williams didn't have a great set of tits, but that was the only minus point on what was essentially a top drawer piece of twenty year old arse. They were in the back of a taxi on the way back to her place, hopefully for a night of drunken shagging and getting his cock deep throated. She seemed to be a nice girl, intelligent, better quality slut than most of the girl's he'd been around from the estate near where he lived. Aly didn't live in Oakfield itself. She lived with her mum in the middle of a short row of terraced houses ten minutes from the town centre.

They were snogging hotly on the back seat of the taxi, all wet tongues and moaning, and Carl knew the driver would be having a good horny look through his mirrors because he had his hands on Aly's tits while she hornily sucked at his proffered tongue and moaned little, exquisite, breathy sounds into his voracious mouth. Tits-wise, she didn't quite have a handful to play with but what she had were firm and perky with gorgeous, responsive, and by her reactions, really sensitive nipples. And she seemed to like to have them played with too. The taxi pulled up outside her house and Carl paid the fare, then followed Aly up the little concrete steps to her white PVC front door.

Carl followed Aly excitedly through the front door, finding a narrow staircase facing him and then followed her again through an interior door immediately to the right. The second door led into a spacious though dimly illuminated living room. If he had spent any time looking around he would have seen the large, flat-screen television on the chimney breast, the armchair under the bay window and the other armchair facing it next to another door leading to a small and cramped looking kitchen. 

However, his eyes were snared completely and at once by the older woman half lay, with her feet up, on the couch opposite a warmly dancing gas fire. Her intelligent green eyes were fixed on the television above it.

She was spectacular. The epitome of a MILF. She made Carl's jaw dropped, his dick instantly hard and his eyes widen. His heart flipped in his chest and accelerated until it felt ready to burst. Butterflies danced in his gut and fluttered up into his throat. 

She had him then and there, hook, line, sinker, without even making any effort. He knew he was staring but he could do nothing else.

She had maybe two decades, no more, on Carl and small lines around the corners of her eyes defined her as no longer youthful, but she had a vigour, an alertness and a vitality in her bright jade eyes than belied her age and made her seem like a sprightly sixteen year old. She had a natural tan to her soft, smooth skin, hair that was dyed a mid blonde and hung smoothly down the sides of her round face, centre parted and shoulder length. She was wearing a white and pink dressing down and pink fluffy slipper-boots. However, even with the concealing nature of her clothing he could see she was neither slender or overtly robust, except in the chest department. It might have been the way the garment bulged forward at her chest, but she looked to have an extremely well endowed pair of tits. Not to the horrendous scale of say Lola Ferrari but more like Brandy Talore or Lindsay Dawn Mackenzie. He wasn't sure, but he fucking well hoped so!

There was a hesitant exchange of politely smiled Hello's, between Carl and Aly's mother, and the fact that the woman's face literally lit up with her smile and made his heart race wasn't lost on Carl at all, but before the exchange could be elaborated on, he was quickly led across the living room and into the kitchen and the frosted glass door was pulled to, separating the mother from the daughter and Carl. 

Carl felt the lust fuelled electricity between himself and Aly but he was already acutely aware that, at least from his perspective, Aly's mother was providing an extra humungous addition to his sexual desire. His erect cock was already hugely distended, hard and burning hot in his shell suit pants, aching to be touched and released into the open air. And Carl couldn't help but admit to himself that he was more excited by the prospect of the shapely mother getting shafted by it that her admittedly gorgeous twenty year old daughter.

The kettle was rumbling away and Aly was spooning coffee and sugar into two mugs. Carl waited as long as he dared and then grabbed her, whipping the spoon from her hand as he swung her around to face him with his aggressive lust and pulled her against him. 

One hand pressed firmly into the inner curve of the small of her back and his fingers pressed into the firm though giving flesh of the upper curves of her gym-toned ass cheeks, while his other caught the nape of her neck under the long straight brown hair and pulled her mouth hard onto his. He stuffed his tongue deep into her mouth before she could even part her lips to allow him access.

She was undeniably gorgeous. Smooth creamy skin, big lush brown eyes with long lashes, a cute little upturned nose and thin though expressive lips. She was tall, almost as tall as him and had a slender though athletic and toned body, breasts that were probably about average, possibly a low numbered C cup, which could probably have been bigger if she didn't exercise all the fat out of her body, probably on a daily basis. Which was actually where he'd met her. She worked at his gym at reception, had just started that week. He had come over to the reception to sign in and she just blurted it out - "What're you doing at the weekend?" 

They'd made a date then and there and now he was enjoying the culmination of it. All too soon he had discovered that she wasn't the blushing violet that he had half expected her to be. 

However, even with the allure of the beautiful twenty year old daughter, Carl couldn't get the thought of the mother out of his head. He tried his best though, and for a while Aly's lustiness and her pure youthful vitality distracted him.

He let his lust take over for a while, Frenching her with a passionate vigour, sliding his hands and arms around her, feeling her firm athletic muscles, her soft warm skin, hearing her light breathy panting as her own excitement grew alongside his. 

He felt her hands gripping his arse cheeks, squeezing and stroking and he followed her lead, copping a two handed feel of her own soft, pert cheeks through the cool smooth fabric of her satin style jogging pants. He switched up to her breasts after a while, cupping their soft heat through the padding of her sporty bra. Carl was acutely aware that the kettle had boiled and settled into silence and that, along with the muted drone of the television, only the noise of their tongue heavy French kissing and lovely little panting, moaning breaths from Aly filled the pin-drop silence. He wondered if Aly's mum could hear them. 

Aly's hands slid down his mountain-ridge abdominals to his cock. She stroked her fingertips down along the length of the hard bulge that was pinned to the side of his inner thigh by his briefs. 

Carl shivered and let out a long, pleasurable groan. Aly's mother once again popped into his head and he grabbed Aly's wrist and pressed it harder against his meat while turning them both around so he was facing the frosted glass door to the living room. Aly obediently rubbed at his cock through his pants while she kissed his throat. And Carl, craning his neck and gazing through the frosted glass of the inner door, took hold of her breasts again, one perky orb in each hand. He matched her caresses on his cock and ass cheeks with his own hands cupping and fondling her breasts and he enjoyed the moans and panting that came from her slender young throat.

They got into each other's pants at the same time. Carl wriggled a hand down the drawstring waistband of Aly's jogging pants and then slipped his fingers under the lace edge of her knickers, feeling a tiny mound of soft pubic hair and then the hot, tender lips beneath. As his fingers spread her lips and dipped into the dampness inside, Aly's hands, shaking a little with her own pleasure, pulled at Carl's pants, tugged his briefs away and levered his large, thick erection up and out. This time it was Carl's turn to let out a moan of pleasure as her fist gripped tight on the root of his solid shaft and the fingertips of her other hand stroked at the bulbous swollen mushroom-shaped crown.

He stuffed two fingers deep inside her and wiggled them, smiling as Aly moaned a breathy, horny sound while her knees went momentarily weak. She clutched at him, groaning and used his strong, well muscled body to support her. 

His eyes caught the kitchen door again while he finger fucked the excitedly panting girl. The door had swung ajar an inch or two allowing a sliver of the living room to be visible. And in that sliver the alluring MILF was visible, framed between white painted door and door jam. She seemed to be switching off the television at the wall and putting the remote controls on the side board, by the chimney. She wasn't remotely aware of Carl watching her, or even that the kitchen door was ajar, but as she bent at that waist Carl nearly shot his load then and there. 

Karen's dressing gown was bellying outwards, the belt only holding the garment together from her waist downwards. Beneath it she was wearing a skin-tight black lace and gauze top with no visible bra under it. It showed off her enormous mouth-watering breasts incredibly. Swirls of lace patterning barely concealed where her nipples and areolae would be and an intricate dance of lace flowers and vines patterned the gauze netting that formed the transparent base of the fabric that the intricate lace was sewn into. 

As she straightened up, Carl got an amazing heart-stopping glimpse of her breasts shuddering as they settled back into position within the erotic gauzy covering. Then she turned to the door and Carl quickly averted his eyes in case she caught him staring.

He was less bothered about being seen finger fucking Karen's daughter. If Karen didn't assume that what was going on in the kitchen she must be totally naive. And Carl didn't believe that for a moment. She didn't come into the kitchen however, just shouted over.

"Aly, I'm off to bed. Make sure you lock up before you come up."

"I'm gonna cum up." Carl whispered into Aly's ear, the instant before she opened her mouth to respond. 

"Okay mum." Aly managed to respond, blushing and stammering her response to her mother.

The girl was biting her bottom lip to keep from making too much noise and his dancing fingers were slick with her pussy juice.

"Don't forget!" Karen said.

"Alright, I won't!" Aly moaned in response, unable to keep the erotic pleasure out of her voice, which reverberated audibly and Carl knew it was due to her building orgasm.

He risked another glance through the gap in the door and saw a wry smile play across Karen's lips. She was looking this way, though not quite eye to eye with Carl. She had hold of the folds of her dressing gown and was holding it tight across her front, as if she was chilly.

It did nothing but accentuate the contours of her heavenly bosom and Carl let out a low groan of his own as the MILF moved out of sight. She seemed to mutter something like "Dirty girl." on her way out of the room. But Carl couldn't swear to it.

And then she was gone and Carl temporarily put her out of his mind, giving himself over to his lust and the lush, firm and toned young body that was his to play with for the night.

"Let's take this upstairs." Aly muttered, squeezing his cock and her thighs together around his flurrying hand. "I just have to lock up."

They hurried, inspired by their mutual lust to get everything done in double quick time, hurrying to lock up the front and back doors, switching off lamps and grabbing her phone and purse. 

Finally Aly was leading Carl up the stairs, but the flex of her taut, toned ass was getting to him and he stopped half way up, his hands grabbing her narrow hips as he stuffed his face between the warm smoothness of her buttocks and nuzzled her, kissing and licking at her ass through the satin fabric.

Aly moaned and panted, one hand white-knuckle tight on the banister, while she reached behind her to run her fingers through his hair, pulling his face harder against her lovely young body.

"Stop. Get in my room and we'll carry on. We'll do whatever you like but in my room." She moaned.

She was obviously horny and breathless and almost as desperate for him as he was for her.

"I just wanna eat you out!" Carl grunted, slurping at the warm soft ridge of her pussy lips.

Aly moaned and he felt a shiver passing through her body, but she gripped his hair in her fist and pulled his face from her ass. 

"C'mon then!" She gasped and all but ran up the stairs. Carl followed her, snapping at her heels.

On the upstairs landing she reached for the cord that drew the ceiling hatch downward while distractedly pointing to the closed door behind them. 

"Bathroom." She whispered, then pointed at the other door opposite. "Mum's room."

Carl paused and stared at the MILF's bedroom and momentarily his lust for the daughter was eclipsed by the bigger pull he felt to the mother. She was behind that door right now, quite probably naked. Maybe getting ready for bed, or already under the covers. All he would have to do was to open that door and there she'd be. Ready and waiting. 

The little fold down steps flipped back and Aly drew him back to her again, took his hand and led him up into her bedroom.

There wasn't much foreplay, in fact, the second they were up in the converted loft they were all over each other, tugging off clothing and underwear and then falling into each other's arms. 

Aly wrapped herself around Carl's muscular frame as they both stood at the foot of her single bed, she cinched her arms around his broad shoulders, sliding the fingers of one hand through his short cropped hair, enjoying the heat of the erect ridge that pressed against her naked, toned groin. They kissed deeply, tongues worming like serpents in heat. Carl's hands went straight for the goods, one cupping a small breast and tweaking her hard nipple, while his other felt the firm roundness of her taut buttocks and then the enticing damp heat between them. Aly gasped as his fingers splayed her pussy lips and one digit sampled the wet warmth inside her. Her legs came up, scissoring around him, making him take her meagre weight while she hooked her legs around his waist.

The next moment his hands were reaching between their naked, pressed together crotches.

Aly gyrated and moaned in her desire for his cock, even as he levered it down between them and then pushed it up toward her teenage cunt. Her slick hot lips pouted, giving him easy access. Carl's crown, hot and swollen with lust, pierced her and with loud mutual groans they pushed together, sliding his engorged shaft deep into Aly's teenage pussy.

The rest came naturally and without effort or thought. Animal instincts taking over, they rutted, fast and sweaty and passion fuelled. 

Lust-fires raged in their loins, overloading senses and inhibitions. Carl clawed at Aly's strong firm ass cheeks while he pumped up into her heat with strong, passionate thrusts. Aly rocked in his grasp to meet his thrusts, both of them switching from wet hungry kisses to mutual guttural groans of lust hued passion.

It was never going to last long, they were stoked, fuelled by each other, alcohol adding fire and sensory fuel but removing stamina and self control. Carl came first, slamming his cock meat in and out hard as his broaching orgam flooded his senses and then, with a long loud groan, he emptied his heavy, tingling balls right into the girl's young cunt, flooding her, expelling his cum in a half dozen thick, strong, bursts of hot viscous fluid. 

Luckily, the feel of Carl's hot cum shooting powerfully up into her clutching quivering pussy was enough to set Aly off and she gasped and moaned as her own climax struck her in fast, hot, roiling waves. She convulsed against him and he struggled to keep hold of her, to maintain balance, to keep his still pumping cock inside her. He wrapped both arms around her slender back, braced his feet and groaned again and again as he enjoyed their mutual climax.

They fell onto the bed, untangling as gravity drew them onto the springy mattress and breathed heavily in exhausted silence, side by side. Their limbs entwined loosely, Aly's hair half covering Carl's face, her sweet scent, of shampoo and perfume and clean fresh sweat filling his nostrils. It wasn't long before the exhaustion and the silence took them down and they fell asleep on top of the covers under the dim welcoming lamp light.

Carl was awoken to the blissful sensation of Aly's mouth stretched around his cock, sliding up and down, wetly. There's no better way to be woken up than this. He thought to himself as he let out a long soft groan of pleasure. Through hooded eyes he looked down at the tanned, naked twenty year old. She really was beautiful. Lush, slender, well toned and so lovely to look at. The intelligent mischievous fire in her deep brown eyes reminded him of the look her mother had sported when he'd seen her downstairs.

And, at the thought of Aly's mother, he felt a strong tingling in his dick and his scrotum that Aly was gently teasing in one cupped palm. She let out a responsive purr, recognising the sudden strengthening of his hardness deep inside her welcoming mouth and the purr caused yet more reactive tingles and he groaned in rising desire. Aly went to slicking her lips up and down the upper half of his shaft with the lower half gripped and stroked in her clenched fist.

Carl had sobered up enough to want to give back what she was giving him so he sat up and grabbed the girl by the hips. Aly responded with enthusiasm and, keeping her mouth working, they carefully swung her around until her knees were framing his head in a sixty-nine position.

Then Carl stuffed all the pillows and cushions he could reach under his head, grabbed her ass and pulled her sweet pussy down onto his face. He nuzzled her clit with his nose, laying kisses on and around her swollen vulva before starting with his tongue, licking both up and down and across her pouting lips, dipping his tongue to the tiny mouth of her sweet pussy entrance and flicking the underside of his tongue across her clit hood.




Chav Ch. 04.5



He found himself smiling inwardly at all the little reactive responses, moans and breathy gasps, and the little shivers and quivers that shook her loins. And all the while her tight fist, hot mouth and stroking tongue caressed his engorged shaft with a fast and vigorous pace that he knew would get him off in mere minutes.

Carl enjoyed emptying his bladder after he'd emptied his balls. Felt like flushing out the tubes, so to speak. He imagined drying smegma clogging up the tubes in his cock like fatty deposits in his arteries. A bit disgusting maybe, but he felt cleaner after he had pissed.

He had shot his load straight down Aly's throat and she had swallowed the lot like a trooper, then went on to clean him up as well. Afterwards, once he knew the bog was calling to him, he had offered to get her a drink of water or something. But she had declined and had instead drawn a bottle of cherry coke from under her bed. Carl hadn't thought anything of it and had slipped down the steps to the bathroom below.

He wasn't sure if Aly's mum had gone across the landing and tried the bathroom door while he'd been in there and gone back to her room to wait, or if she had only just gone back to her room seconds before Carl had come down from the loft, but when he had finished, washed his hands and half heartedly towelled himself down, he had come out and noticed that Karen's bedroom door was slightly ajar and a dim lamplight was coming from within. He couldn't help himself but to have a glance inside.

Karen was out of bed, which more or less filled the room. Pale, white or off white bedding. Bedside tables flanking it, small lamps lit on both, fitted wardrobes to the right, in white with mat metallic features, facing the bed. And the window opposite with white or off white curtains drawn across it.

She was standing side on to the door, her head turned away from Carl, arms raised up while she shimmied a deep pink satin nightie over her head and her blonde hair, which was tied up in a pony tail. She wore loose French knickers in the same pink satin-like fabric, which cinched against the enticing upper slopes of her ass cheeks but concealed the under curves. The body of the nightie unfortunately covered her big naked breasts, but only just. And the thin sheer material clung to the upper curves, pooling like liquid against her body, catching on her nipples and showing them off to Carl. At the same time the light play from behind her cast momentary images of silhouetted naked bosom and prominent nipples through the pink satin. Carl's eyes bugged in near uncontrollable desire and he had to purse his lips hard to stifle the erotic groan that was building in him, almost but not quite keeping up with the hardening and growing state of his big cock.

He wanted to stand there and watch until there was no more to see. He wanted to go over and put his hands on her, all over her. He wanted to get into that bed with her and spend the rest of the night fucking her. Hard. But instead, he slipped backward from the doorway and crept back up the steps to Aly's room. Hating the creaking noise of the hatchway entrance and knowing Karen would be able to hear him.

His dick was achingly hard and hugely swollen and it stayed that way as he got back into bed with Aly. His mind was filled with uncontrolled fantasies of what he could have been doing with Karen. What he could be doing right now if she had invited him. Or if he had had the guts to force the issue, to take what he wanted. Another time, with another woman he'd have done just that. But Karen, and for that matter Aly, weren't alley-cat chav sluts who pretty much expected it. You couldn't treat women like these the same way. Chav bitches expected nothing less than forced attention. They got it every day. If you didn't take what you wanted they thought you were weak. Everyone knew that. But this wasn't Oakfield. And Karen deserved better.

He spooned Aly, who was on her side dozing. But his proximity and the hardness and sheer lusty heat of the cock he started to gently dry hump against her naked bottom, pulled her back and she gave a little, sleepy, though appreciative, purr and reached back to gently squeeze his hard on and stroke the solid hot-coal crown against her firm smooth bottom. 

Would she be so appreciative if she knew it was her mum who was responsible for his aching hard erection?

"Wow! You're ready for more?" She mumbled sleepily, though the lethargy appeared to be slipping away quickly. "I've not felt you as hard as this... Some effect I have on you!"

Carl just grunted and reached around to tweak her nipples and cup and squeeze her breasts. All the while wishing, guiltily that it was her mother's huge pair he was groping. He trailed his fingertips down over her ironing board abdomen and gently cupped her pubis. Aly was idly gyrating her hips against him, massaging his cock with her naked ass and rubbing her pussy against his questing fingers at the same time. She groaned deep and longing.

"I don't need it, mate, just shove it in and fuck me!" She groaned. 

Carl didn't need telling twice.

Afterward, they lay in each others arms, the covers half heartedly pulled up around them. It was the early hours now and it was getting cold, even with the risen body heat of repeated frantic sex. They were tired but not sleepy, the shagging had pumped a little euphoria into them both and they were awake and alert and whispering to each other. Getting to know each other.

Aly was talking about ex's. There seemed to be quite a lot and they didn't seem to last long. Ordinarily, Carl would have been made wary but all he could think about was that incredibly wanton, hot, older woman down below. He asked Aly about her mother but tried his best to be casual about it, conversational.

"Does your mum date much?"

"On and off. She's been married twice. We hate my dad. Won't let him come around much. Unless I wanna see him. She's had some boyfriends since her last divorce. Some older, some younger. I think maybe she has trouble trusting men sometimes. I don't know. Maybe my dad messed her up when she was younger. Doesn't stop her dating though. She's old fashioned, has to be asked out. I don't geddit myself. If I want someone I'll just go and get him."

She turned her head and gave Carl a lingering kiss on the lips. One hand was casually cupping his scrotum and she gave him a gentle little squeeze. Carl moaned through the kiss, wanting her to go on talking about her mum but not wanting to seem overly interested. Aly saved him the anguish. She was in a chatty mood.

"Her last fella fucked with her head I think. She seemed really into him, whole lotta noisy shagging!" She laughed and blushed a little. "It was all they seemed to do! I suppose I shouldn't be horrified of my mum having an active, and by the noise dirty, sex life but she's always been active if you know what I mean. She always tried to keep the noise down, even when I was little, but I could still hear everything they got up to." 

"Must have been... Interesting for you." Carl put in cryptically.

"There's this one memory when I walked in on her and someone. Not sure who, could well have been my dad. I can't remember. The rest of it is proper stuck in my head though. Like it was yesterday or something. I remember details, like how fast her head was moving, how far the man's dick went in her mouth. It looked huge to me. And the noises she was coming out with, awful, horrible gagging sounds. Why it didn't give me some kinnd of blow-job phobia I'll never know!" 

"I, for one, am glad it didn't!" Carl laughed. "Tell me, describe it."

"Okay. I remember standing in the doorway of mum's bedroom and she was there kneeling on the bed and he, whoever he was, was standing over her, holding her head in both hands.

"I don't know if it was just the way I remember it or not but his dick looked fucking huge! Thick, bulging, red all over and really fucking wet, as though it was covered in vaseline or something, just slick. Drool dripping off the underneath, bubbles of it on the length. It looked fucking disgusting.

"I remember her lips were proper stretched around it and her throat bulged out every time he shoved it in all the way. I remember being horrified as I was standing there watching the whole thing disappearing into her mouth. I remember thinking that it must be deformed or something... Anyway, I must have walked in just as he was coming, I think she saw me but he kept hold of her head and started shouting and making weird animal noises."

"Animal noises?!" Carl laughed.

"Well that's what it sounded like back then, it must have got all messed up over time. He was obviously shooting his load and, you know, enjoying it, but it sounded like animal noises at the time.

"I remember all this white stuff was smeared over his dick and mum's lips, and I think I saw it shooting out of her nose, maybe... And she was coughing and struggling but he wouldn't let her go. 

"The only other thing I remember, this last image... I think I remember that I was crying and this image of mum, on her hands and knees, head down and just vomiting spunk, like something out of The Exorcist. I think I was shoved by him out of the room and the door slammed shut in my face. I think I remember that."

They fell into a momentary silence, the images haunting Carl, making him hornier than ever, his cock straining and aching with desire.

Finally Aly made a dismissive face and then laughed.

"It wasn't all bad for her, and all that stuff's probably all been warped over the years, was probably nothing like I remember at all."

Carl smiled, allowed a short silence to spread between them, then killed it by asking Aly to carry along with the story, hoping she couldn't feel how hard it was making his cock again. 

"There were other times when I was older and she'd go out for a night and she'd come back late the next morning, bleary eyed, hung over, knackered. It was obvious what she'd been doing all night, sometimes all weekend. I suppose I was just used to it. She always got as much attention from men as I did when we went out together. Then that usual shit comes out - 'Oh, are you two sisters then?!'" She laughed at the memories. "Pissed me off sometimes, like saying I look like I'm my mum's age, but after a while I twigged it was the older men, and sometimes lads our age, that were flirting with her. The old cum-on. I fancy shagging you. You know!" 

"So, what happened with her last fella?" Carl asked, trying to steer the conversation back.

He could feel his cock hardening again, at the thought of Karen shagging all night, getting picked up in pubs, maybe going into the bogs for a quickie with some horny stranger while her daughter sat at the table waiting for her to come back. Aly, picked up the story again, but her mood changed immediately, as if her diversion away from her last fella, had been deliberate.

"She caught him slipping a reefer or something in a can of coke he was getting from the kitchen. For me. Obviously, she hit the roof. Very protective my mum is."

"What happened to the guy?"

"She shoved his head through the glass in the front door then sent him packing. Don't wanna mess with my mum." 

She laughed again, but it was much more subdued. Carl saw slivers of mixed emotion in Aly's eyes. Pride, regret, love, sympathy. Or maybe he just imagined it.

"Anyway..." Aly said with a concluding sigh. "I've got work tomorrow so we'd better get some sleep. I have to be up at seven."

 Saturday 

"Mum sleeps in till nine or so. Maybe you could take her a cup of coffee? Milk, two sugars. She knows you've stayed." 

Aly had said it to Carl just as she was getting dressed around seven the following morning. It played right into the fantasys that Carl had been enjoying all night. He just hoped he would be able to make the coffee and bring it up to the MILF while she was still in bed.

He followed Aly downstairs, switched on the kettle, kissed her goodbye and then made coffee for Karen. He carefully carried it upstairs, wanting to bring some form of breakfast but he didn't know what she ate so the coffee would have to do. He knocked twice on the door and then went straight in without waiting for an invite.

She was blissfully asleep and it couldn't have been much better than he'd hoped. She looked lovely and peaceful, lay on her back with her arms loosely over her head. The bed sheets were rucked up halfway down her thighs and the satin nightie was up around her rib cage just below her breasts, which were visible underneath the taut, sheer, almost translucent fabric that was almost a second skin. Her nipples were hard buds pressing against the satin, darkening the pink and making them exquisitely eye catching. It was almost as if the satin was painted directly onto her lush, enticing flesh. 

She had a bit of a belly, but her skin was soft and smooth and creamy and unblemished. He cast his excited gaze down over her French knickers, hoping for a camel toe or even a horny view right up her inside leg, maybe he could spot a pouting pussy lip or a tuft of pubic hair. But the undergarment was all concealing unfortunately.

He wanted to just stand there and look at her. Well, actually, he wanted to haul that nightie off and feast on those amazing huge tits and then fuck the living crap out of her until his dick wouldn't get hard any more, but he was acutely aware that if she woke up suddenly in that exposed state with him standing over her she'd freak out. So he placed the coffee on the floor and as quietly and carefully as he could straightened out the sheets and brought the sheet up to her chest, desperate to cop a feel of tit while he was there but forcing himself not to. Then he picked up the coffee and went back out into the hall and knocked loudly. After a moments pause, Karen groaned sleepily, stretched and yawned.

"Hang on a sec." She said in the midst of a yawn. Then, a few seconds later added. "Okay, you can come in." 

"Mrs Williams, I brought you a brew."

"Christ, call me Karen." She said and followed it with another yawn. 

He came in with his best, most seductive smile and brought the steaming mug over to her. Karen, with less modesty that he might have expected, drew herself up into a sitting position the sheet settled around her waist and stretched lithely, and for Carl with an immeasurable degree of eroticism. Carl was allowed a mouth-watering look at her amazing breasts with only that thin sheer satin between him and them. They quivered slightly as she stretched, naturally bouyant like blancmange. 

"It's Carl, just in case you don't remember." He said as he offered her the cup, the handle turned toward her. She smiled up at him with those lush emerald eyes that glinted with the same fire and mischief as her daughter's.

"I do remember, Carl. Thanks."

"Mind if I...?" He nodded, pointing his head at the edge of her bed.

"No not at all. Sit down and chat with me for a bit. I don't often get coffee brought to me in bed."

"You're very welcome. I'm told I make a good brew." He said smiling, enjoying the mouth-watering view of her chest charms against the taut pink satin.

"I'll let you know." She grinned. Then blew at the steam and took a sip. "Yep. That you do. Mmmm... that's good."

They chatted. A bit about him, more about her. Some stuff about Aly, but Carl was feeling a little guilty talking about Aly while he was thinking about seducing her mother. So he tried to steer the conversation back to Karen as often has he could get away with it, without seeming rude. He was impressed and excited by her seeming openness and frank honesty toward him. It made him feel like she trusted and liked him.

"...We were chatting last night..."

"Oh is that what you were doing?!" Karen teased.

Carl, unfazed, just smiled at her and gave her a tiny wink, that she might or might not have spotted. 

"Go on, honey." She prompted.

"Aly was telling me a bit about your last boyfriend. She told me about the reefer in her coke, but didn't say much else."

"Oh, I'm an open book, kiddo. I'll tell you whatever. What did yer want to know?"

"Just what went on really. I didn't geddit at the time. 'Course, could have been cause it was three in the morning or somethin'." Carl grinned.

"Well... I was having financial difficulties at the time, mortgage, owed money, solicitors fees after a divorce. Then this fella came along, not bad looking, charming, very confident, willing to help. I took his help. And of course after that I felt obliged to repay him in anyway I could. So of course, pretty much straight away, he started taking advantage. But I went along with it for a while, against my better judgement. He'd got me out of a real tight spot though, and he bought me things. Nice things. But I paid for it in spades. He made sure of that."

"Bastard. Took advantage how?" 

"I let him do things to me I didn't really like doing. I was grateful to him, but he pushed it way too far. I was pretty low at the time, no confidence, lonely. So I liked the attention, and I tolerated that nastier parts of him for a while. He liked it hard, you know, dirty sex. Hard spanking, hard anal, whipping my tits. Fucked my throat raw more times than I'd care to admit. I can deep throat, no problem, but he just took it too far. Trying to hurt me. And before you ask I'm not into that stuff." She ended with a grin, but there was a heavy atmosphere in the room.

Carl's cock was achingly hard, but he tried to shift his position so it wouldn't show. Even horny, part of him also wanted to say something, wanted to hug her or think of some way to take away the no doubt bad memory. There was obviously going to be some effect on her after being treated that way but he was no shrink and he said nothing. His erection and the erotic images flashing through his mind made him feel guilty and horny at the same time.

"Can't believe I just told you all that." Karen said with a grin. But Carl saw no sign of regret or embarrassment. Just that alluring smile.

Karen stopped to drink some coffee. But her eyes remained on Carl. After a couple of sips she spoke again.

"Didn't you make something for yourself?" She asked.

"No. I will in a bit. I prefer juice and protein drinks in the morning. I usually go to the gym first thing." He saw Karen grin over the lip of her mug and her eyes couldn't seem to help darting over his muscular body.

"I can see that." She said, then drank more coffee.

"So was it him going after Aly that was the last straw?"

"Yeah but before that things with our sex life went further down hill. Fuck knows why I let it all happen, when I look back I must have been mad. I just felt like I owed him and kept hoping it would straighten itself out, somehow. Anyway, he started to share me with some of his mates..."

"Serious? Fuckin' 'ell!"

Karen nodded. Shrugged. Carried on.

"I went along with it to begin with 'cause I thought he might treat me a bit more gently in company you know, show a bit more restraint. So we had threesomes, and then foursomes. But then it got to the point when one time we went round to one of his mates for a supposed get together and it turned out to be nothing more than a pre-planned gang bang. Just me, him, booze, loud music and four or five of his mates. I went along with it then too. Christ knows why. You always hope that with enough time you can change 'em. Took me a lot of time to figure out you can't."

Carl recognised his initial bi-polar reaction was changing. His eroticised excitement was eclipsed by a redundant anger with the faceless man. The thought of it still excited him but he was more disgusted and sympathetic. He wanted to hold Karen in his arms. And he wanted to go out and stomp on this fella's head until his skull split open. She looked calm and over it. Just a little sad. He wondered if she blamed or hated herself because of what she let him push her into.




Chav Ch. 04.5



"...And then he tried it on with Aly, as she told you. That was the last straw..." 

She paused to drain her mug and leaned across to put the empty cup on the bedside table. 

Carl found himself gazing at the gentle shudder of those immaculate full breasts under the sheer nightie but the story had soured his horny desire a little, left him with a heightened sense of warmth and protectiveness toward her. She straightened up, not doing anything with the bedding which was now around her bare upper thighs. A quick glace revealed her French knickers on display, legs unconsciously parted, and what could have been camel toe or just a stitched seam.

"...I could see he had eyes for her and I had suspicions he had tried to spy on her, see her naked a couple of times, in the bath, getting undressed. Tried to get her to sit on his lap, crap like that. Then I caught him spiking her drink. So I threw him out and told him if he ever came near me or Aly again I'd make him regret it. I have a temper when it comes to Aly. He must have got the message 'cause I haven't seen him since."

Karen let out a sigh. Then she quickly put her warm, inviting smile back in place and smoothly steered the conversation over to nicer subjects. As the light sense of fun built, replacing that sombre, atmospheric weight that had solidified around them, a nice and flirty back and forth chatter started to flow with an easy pleasant warmth.

Carl recognised the definite undercurrent of flirtation between them. He found it undeniable. She encouraged his little touches of flattery and sexual innuendo, reacted warmly to compliments. And she threw some flattery back in his direction too. The biggest moment of encouragement came as the conversation finally dried out after something like an hour, when Carl was starting to feel like he might have missed an opportunity to make his move and was almost kicking himself. Karen made a big, lithe groaning stretch, reaching with both hands for the ceiling and as her breasts quaked and shuddered with her movements, Carl barely withholding his groan of aching desire, she caught his eye.

"I need a shower." She said with what looked to Carl like a flirtatious smile. "So you'll need to shut your eyes while I get undressed. Go and get yourself some juice and watch a bit of tele. I won't be long. We can carry on chatting on the couch after, if you like."

"Okay, sure. That'd be nice." He replied, shiftng back to the corner of the bed to give her room to slide out from under the sheets.

He was struck with a new duality. In any other circumstance, with any other woman. Even if it had been Aly and not her mother. He would be making his move now, inviting himself to share the shower. Getting his dick into some prime pussy and his hands on those devine tits. But he found himself taking Karen at her word, the gentlemanly instinct he had discarded a decade ago was coming back to the front. Well, more or less. 

He couldn't quite manage to shut his eyes when, standing on the carpet between the bed and the door, Karen slipped the French knickers down her shapely legs and then wriggled the satin nightie up over her wonderful torso and head and dropped them both to pool on the carpet at her feet. 

She was three quarters turned with her back to him but he got a good look at her physique, her ass had a little hint of sag but was still very nice and round and perky for someone into her forties. And the side-on angle on one fabulous breast showed it off beautifully, big and full and as about as pert as big natural breasts like hers can be.

He stared, mouth open and agape, and nearly shot his load then and there, but he caught sight of her turning head in the nick of time and snapped his eyes shut. There was a moment of ruffling terry cloth and then Karen sang out. "You can open your eyes again now."

Carl opened his eyes and she was wrapped up in a pink and white dressing gown, her hair down and a lush smile on her pretty face.

"Karen Williams, you're a pretty amazing woman." He said, hoping it didn't sound as foolish and trite to her as it did to him. 

She grinned and he swore there was a little flush to her cheeks.

"Shut up and get downstairs." She laughed dismissively. A throaty, dirty sound that made him shiver with desire. "Aly's got some of that protein stuff in the cupboard to the left of the sink. Make yourself some breakfast and wait for me downstairs. I won't be long."



Carl made himself the protein drink, and drank it down quickly. But he found himself at a loss downstairs and made himself excuses to go back upstairs again. Just to be near her. Wanting to see her again.

Christ! It had only been ten minutes! He was like some addict craving his next fix. 

He had never felt anything like this before. He had butterflies in his stomach and behind his ribs for fucks' sake! 

He stood outside the bathroom door, hearing the shower hiss and random splashes as she moved under the hot spray.

"Karen? Make you another brew?"

"Yeah, please. Oh, Carl? I forgot to put some clothes out, can you have a look and pick me something?"

"Er, yeah. Sure. Anything in particular?"

"Whatever you think." She replied casually. Carl felt like he had the shakes. Did she know what she was asking? 

"Thanks hon." She added.

Carl hurried into her bedroom. Lightheaded with excitement. His hard-on raging, threatening to split his pants wide open. He almost ran over to her wardrobe and threw the doors open. Tight light blue jeans were an easy grab. It was tops he was interested in. See-through tops. Revealing tops. Tight tops. Easy to remove tops. Just in case he got lucky. He really wanted that black lace thing she had been wearing last night but it was more than likely in the wash. He scoured her wardrobe and found a naughty leather basque. It was black with a silver zipper at the front that made it half way up and then laces reached the top of the extreme plunged neckline. The were shoulder straps and little attachments for suspender straps. 

He was sorely tempted to put that out on the bed for her but knew she'd never go for it. But it was nice to know she had something like that. He looked on, and eventually narrowed it down to three items. A turquoise wrap-around top. Tight fitting and easy to open up, plus it'd go with her green eyes. And he also pulled out a black halter top in a soft silky cotton with a double row of little silver sequins that followed the low plunging neckline. And just before he shut the wardrobe doors he spotted a little half sleeve silvery cashmere v-neck sweater that would do amazing things not only to her tits but show off her cleavage to a lustful immensity. 

He spread all three out on the bed and looked at them, passing his gaze from one to the other, checking off good points and bad points for each in his head. And getting nowhere. He tried very hard to picture Karen, or more accurately, Karen's fantastic breasts within each garment. But that just made him even hornier and more desperate to get this right.

Eventually he decided to leave them where they were and let her pick for herself. He went back downstairs to wait.

Karen emerged from the frosted glass living room door as though in slow motion and Carl could see which top she had chosen just from the colour through the glass section of the door. 

Her melon size breasts pushed out the front of the pale blue green wrap around top. The tight garment jutting under the strain of those breasts that were like beacons, catching and making Carl's eyes stick out on stalks in an instant. Her immense bosom held his gaze like a hypnotist's tool. He could see her prominent nipples pushing against the sheer fabric.

"I like your taste, you pulled out three of my favs!" Karen said.

Carl dragged his eyes upward, saw the naughty glint in her eye, caught the mischevious smile and he knew then that she wanted him too. Or, at least, he just about convinced himself of it.

She slid down close beside him, thigh to thigh, on the sofa, and picked up her proffered brew, sipping and grunting appreciatively at the taste. 

"So how did you sleep?" Carl asked.

"Well, thanks. Once I got off." She replied. 

There was a tiny smile on her sweet mouth and Carl found himself wondering about the exact meaning of 'got off'. He found himself excitedly picturing Karen, fingering and dildoing herself to the noise Carl and Aly were making above her. Clutching those huge breasts, and sucking on her own nipples as she thrashed and writhed on her bed.

"Do you usually remember your dreams?" She asked him.

"No, not really. Occasional images, but nothing more than that. You?"

"Yeah, quite often actually. I remember one from last night and it was getting a bit dirty at one point. Just before you woke me up with that lovely brew." She laughed.

"Sorry, honey." Carl replied with a grin of his own. "So, what was last night's about?"

"I was picking Aly up from work. But I couldn't find her so I had to go into the gym to look for her and every room had these tall hugely muscled Adonis's working out, naked with big dick's down to their knees. I knew, in the dream, they were all Aly's ex's, but this time they were all were all looking at me. And all those muscley bodies and all that attention, the testosterone and desire was just building up getting me hornier and hornier. Then, in one of the weight rooms, there were four of them and they all came around me surrounding me, all tense and grunting with pent up lust... And then I woke up."

"Sheesh!" Carl laughed. "I might have saved you from a hot'n sweaty dream-gangbang!"

"I bet you woke up with some morning glory to take care of or had my naughty little daughter knackered you out?" She teased, surprisingly, as, in Carl experience, mothers tended to be all uptight and over-protective about daughters being big fans of man-meat. Though he chose to keep his response vague and more or less confidential.

"I don't tend to get knackered. Or don't stay that way for long." He said with a nonchalant shrug. "Do women have a morning wood equivalent? After say, a pervy dream about muscle bound body-builders?" He added, a glint in his eye this time.

"Sure, you can wake up wet and horny same as a man can. Often morning sex is when it's at its best, starting all languid and slow and then speeding up and getting frantic as the energy levels build up. Great way to start the day if you ask me. Great way to be late for work too!" She chuckled to herself, perhaps remembering a private memory from the past.

"Speaking of young horny muscle-men, have you ever been seduced by any of Aly's ex's? Any of them tried it on?" 

"Yeah. Plenty have tried it on. Only one got anywhere though, and that wasn't intentional. And he wasn't even an ex at the time. I was drunk and my defences were down so it went further than it should have. But I stopped it. Threw him out and then Aly dumped him. Luckily she didn't blame me. She said she knew he had an eye for me and suspected he was waiting for an opportunity."

"What does 'went further than it should have' mean?" He asked with a naughty grin.

"Oh, you're after details are you?!"

"Yep!" 

"Okay then. It was a party, Christmas or New Years maybe. We were all off our faces. Dance party, karaoke, drinking games, you know. I don't remember a lot of it, or how it really came about. Everyone kind of slunked off, Aly and Mike went off upstairs. I kind of passed out. Here actually, on this sofa. I remember waking up with Mike sitting beside me just in his boxers. We were both still drunk. He kept telling me he wanted me, had done for ages. A lot of this I've kind of pieced together after the fact. Half remembered stuff. So he started snogging me, putting his hands all over me, playing with my tits, of course. He got his dick out...

"I must have been half asleep, 'cause I remember thinking it was my Ex Anil, at the time, I certainly didn't realise it was Mike. So I didn't push him off to begin with. He stripped me half naked got me to give him a tit job while he was playing with my pussy, then he got me to suck him off. I remember him thrusting it deep in my throat and Anil had never done that and it made me start to wonder and wake up a bit, but he pulled out and got me into a doggie style position, that was Anil's favourite so I didn't think twice. He was inside me before I was awake or sober enough to realise it was Mike. Luckily, I shoved him off me before he shot his load. So I started yelling the house down and pulling my clothes on. By the time Aly came down, all she saw was me half dressed, swaying, drunk and yelling the roof off the place and her boyfriend there, stark naked. She put two and two together and that was that." She finished with a simple shrug, then changed the subject.

"What about you? You'll go for these young, fit, attractive girl's from the gym won't you?"

"Not all the time. Some of those girls are nice. Your Aly..." He conceeded obviously, with a shrug and an accepting nod from Karen. "A lot of 'em are up 'emselves, though. They know how fit they are and are cocky about it."

"Oh yeah, Aly tells me about them all the time, stuck up tarts looking at themselves in mirrors for hours on end, I know exactly what you mean." Karen said with a grin. "So who was your last girlfriend? Before Aly."

"Depends what you mean by girlfriend. There've been girls I've fucked, but not who I'd call a girlfriend."

"Last girl you dated, spent time with."

"Carrie Gilbert. I met her through her brother who's comes to the gym. We dated for a couple of months but then she went to Uni, in Dundee I think. We swapped texts for a few weeks but then it all went quiet. Nice girl, pretty too. But she was a bit straight up and down for me, not much in the way of curves. And a bit too much of a brain. Made me feel a bit thick." He laughed.

"I know how that feels. Anil made me feel a bit like that." She paused, sipped coffee. "What about your first? Some high school chick?"

"Yeah Charlotte Lee. No big deal. We did it in her dad's caravan, I would have been Sixteen at the time. I really liked her but she went off to college, met someone else. No big deal." Carl wondered for a moment if she saw through that lie. 

Karen didn't bat an eyelid and seemed to accept his story about Charlotte Lee. 

"What about yours?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Darren Sparks was my first boyfriend. We went out for about a year, he was this dead fit rugby ace a couple of years older than me. A bit of a player with the girls and I got him! But keeping him was hard work. He was always trying to get me to suck him off, you know, deep throat. And I did try it quite a few times, but gagging made me queasy for ages when I was young. So I ended up using these on him instead." She cupped and hefted her breasts to needlessly illustrate to Carl. "He was insatiable. Twice a day he'd do 'em. Must have cum between my tits, oh I don't know, hundreds of times while we were together! I'm surprised they're not spunk coloured." Karen laughed dismissively but Carl's mouth was watering at the thought of her tit fucking. Oh God what he wouldn't do to have himself a bit of that!

"So what made you split up?" He asked, realising he was staring at her breasts again and unable to draw his eyes of them.

"He tried to fuck me, and got bothered about me saying I wasn't ready. He didn't try and force me. He just fucked off and found some other slag to do it with. And then he dumped me before I had the chance to dump him! Bastard."

"Typical jock." Carl muttered.

"Yeah, as if you're not one yourself!" 

Karen grunted with amusement and slid a teasing finger over Carl's obvious biceps and pectorals. Carl grunted a little laugh of his own. 

His erection was aching to be freed and he didn't care if Karen could see the state of his excitement or not.

"So, if you didn't lose it to your boyfriend...?"

"Oh, haha! To get revenge I went lost it with his best mate! The day after he dumped me! And then to top it off I shagged his older brother too!"

They both laughed but Karen had a slightly embarrassed look.

"Don't get me wrong, I wasn't suddenly a slag or anything. He really messed with my head. And it took me ages to get over him. But I was so mad at him that he'd dumped me 'cause I wouldn't let him shag me that I kind of lost if for a week or so. They were both one night stands and I regretted them afterwards. But once it's gone you can't get it back... My proper sex life began with my second boyfriend and we were together for three years."

There was a slice of silence and Karen took the opportunity to finish her brew and then settle back comfortably against Carl's muscular frame, leaning against him. And Carl threw an arm around around her shoulder and spent the silence staring at Karen's magnificent curves and attractive face and feeding his urges to strip her naked, to suck and fuck her great melon size tits, to impale her on his cock and fuck her over and over again unti he was exhausted and couldn't get it up any more. Karen, lolling comfortably against him, broke the silence.

"So, c'mon. Tell me about some of these girl's you've fucked?"

He was going to, Becky, Rhianna, Chantelle and Sammy, Stacey... Erm, Lorna, Laura, Trish... Had he fucked Trish? Couldn't remember... But then he knew he couldn't take much more of this flirty conversation so he just went for broke instead.

"You know what I really wanna do, Karen?" He said, gutturally, shifting around a little so he could look her in the eye.

"Wassat?"

"I really want to kiss you."

"Do you now?" She said with that mischevious glint again and the little cocky half smile.

Carl didn't even reply. The smile and the glint were enough for him. He kissed her.

Her lips were soft and warm against his and he groaned at the feel and the taste of her, the heat of her body, the feel of her flesh against his. Part of him wanted to savour the tenderness of her lips. The first kiss in a new romance, so often lost in the usual drunken fumblings and burning-lust need to take it further and further. But he was in the midst of that same burning-lust and it took control of him as he knew it would. She was just too fucking hot. His dick was insistant.

She followed his lead and within seconds their mashed together lips parted, mouths opening for tongues. The kiss turned hungry and hard, erotic and frantic almost at once. They were both panting and moaning into each other's sucking, slurping mouths. Karen was as much into it as Carl, by the groaning noises she was making as she sucked his horny tongue and by the way her arms came up to touch him, one hooking onto the cool skin at the nape of his neck, the other stretching across herself to encircle his waist.

His arms were around her shoulders and pressing into one plump demin covered thigh. He desperately wanted his hands on those amazing, huge, meaty breasts but this was just the first kiss and she was a MILF, a classy lady, not some chav scrote he could push around and manipulate.

Carl didn't want to jepordise anything by pushing her too far too fast, but Karen had her own ideas. Maintaining their kiss, tongues entwined like mating eels, with a hand on the back of Carl's neck, she drew herself up off him and turned to face him. The hand at his waist slid down and caught hold of his hand on her thigh. She lifted it, and pressed it firmly against her bulging bosom, momentarily pulling her mouth from his as she made the decision for him. 

"You want to have a grope a'my tits don't you?" She said with a flashy and flushed grin.

"Ohhh fuck me!, You've no idea how much Karen!" Carl groaned.

"I can tell. Go for your life."

His hands instantly closed on her immense breasts against the sheer warm fabric of the wrap around top. He squeezed hard, clawing at her. His lust almost violent, like a molotov cocktail behind his ribs. He growled with lust as he felt their heat, their weight, their pure luscious feel under his groping hands. But his noises were quickly muffled as Karen's mouth closed once again over his and stabbed her tongue in deep.




Chav Ch. 04 Pt. 01



Chav 4.

Getting out. 

As with all of these stories, this is inspired by, and dedicated to, Ronin. 

CHAPTER ONE: 

MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS.

Sandra Taylor, named by her parents after Sandra Olsson from the film Grease, conceived her first daughter, Becky, by accident, at a rave party in the Hacienda nightclub while celebrating her ninteenth birthday. 

She had been high on ecstasy for most of that night and of the five men who had ended up shagging her, she only actually remembered three of them. And only one of the three with any clarity.

The first had slipped her some ecstasy tablets, danced with her, almost immediately helping himself to a hardcore feel of her shapely young figure on the dance floor, before he urgently pulled her into a shadowy corner of the club and fucked her, standing up and pressed against one of the industrial styled pillars.

She remembered, through the drug induced haze of fun, noise, freaky light-shows and the smells of stale sweat and heady perfumes, the feel of his hands digging firmly into the cheeks of her bared arse. 

She remembered as well, reaching up over her head with both hands to grab the vertical girder-pillar, wrapping her legs around his waist, while he took her weight and shoved his iron hard cock deep inside her hot, damp pussy and excitedly pounded her for a loud, sweaty and frantic five minutes. 

All too soon he tensed up, groaned loudly in her ear and emptied his balls noisily inside her.

The ecstasy made it good, made it that she didn't care about the hot spunk spurting unprotected into her pussy, or about the other random men who leaned in to get her big tits out so they could fondle, squeeze and even suck on her nipples while she was getting fucked.

She might even have remembered someone sticking a finger or two up her arse while she'd been getting dicked, but she was never too sure if that had been real or imagined.

The other two had had her a couple of hours later when Sandy and a girlfriend were talked into going into the toilets with two lads for a line of coke or two and somehow Sandy and found herself getting fucked by the both of them. Her friend had rebuked her suitor's crude advances and left, so he had instead shoved his way into the other cubicle with Sandy and her date.

She had been sat in the lap of the other lad with his cock stuffed in her pussy when the newcomer shoved his way into their cubicle in with them. He had just leaned over her back and shoved his cock straight up Sandra's arse.

She remembered both of them shooting their loads into her pussy one after the other. Maybe the one buggering her had swapped holes toward the end, once his pal had shot his load. Or they'd ended up sharing her pussy, double penetrating her and coming at the same time. She hadn't been able to remember clearly.

What she hadn't remembered at all was, toward dawn, being escorted to some bed-sit by another two lads, because she was borderline overdosed and dehydrated and unable to stay upright or remember much of anything.

Once back in the bed-sit, the two lads had stripped her, pulled her into one of their beds and spent the next few hours ganging up on her, taking turns and switching holes before they shared her holes between them and then spit-roasted her, even though she was mostly unconscious all the way through the ordeal.

When she finally started to come around they had at last thrown her out of their bed-sit and left her full of spunk and having to make her own way home. 

She found her way to a taxi rank and only really recovered a sense of awareness when she got home.

Once confirmed pregnant, Sandy selected the first of the three she was aware of, as he was the only one who had given her his phone number, and she had declared him the father of her baby. 

The relationship didn't last, as the 'father' spent too much time and money pursuing his recreational drugs obsession and Sandy Taylor gave birth to Becky alone.

The only lasting effect Sandra took with her of the relationship was her own interest in drugs, beginning with ecstasy and quickly shifting over to cocaine.

By the time Becky was starting to crawl, her mother had been through five more failed relationships before she met the right man, managed to slip the grip that drugs had on her and had given birth to her second daughter Jeni.

For a decade the family was relatively happy, though poor. However, Sandy unfortunately became tired of being a stay at home mum and one day bumped into Becky's 'father' again. And so she started an excited and drug fuelled affair. The affair lasted three months before Jeni's father recognised the change to Sandy's behaviour and confronted her. Sandy threw him out and moved Becky's 'father' in instead. 

That lasted six months during which time all of the family's possessions were sold for drugs and the girls were given a sudden and harsh, though non-interactive, education on filthy sex practices and drug abuse through the inappropriate, thoughtless lack of care of Sandy and her fella, having no concept of privacy or decency abused each other and substances all over the house at all times of the day leaving doors wide open for anyone, including the daughters, to see and hear.

It was Jeni who went desperately to her father to beg him to help. And Becky's 'father' was forcefully removed from the house. Sandy was forced into rehab and Jeni's father moved back in to look after the girls.

Sandy kicked the drugs for another five years but their influence got hold of her again and soon she was being dragged down and Becky started to experiment as well. Jeni's father found himself unable to cope and tried to leave and take Jeni with him but the younger daughter felt too responsible for her mother to abandon her and she stayed.

Becky's 'father' tried to move back in but none of the Taylor women wanted him back and soon enough, less than a year later, he was arrested, tried and convicted of dealing in large amounts of illegal substances and sentenced to ten years.

For the next few years, Sandy Taylor struggled with her addiction, with supporting her daughters and with trying to keep jobs, debts, and relationships with man after unsuitable man from spiraling out of all control.



Becky stood in the living room doorway, leaning against the doorframe, thinking coldly about her upbringing and about her mother.

She could see her mother's failures clearly, as though illuminated by a spotlight. It was just like her mother's life was a repeatedly tossed coin.

Heads - she'd spend some time being a dutiful mother, working hard, paying her way, paying her debts, head down and responsible. Then the coin would toss again.

Tails - she'd abandon her duty and responsibility and dive head first into a degrading life of drug fuelled debauchery, loosing herself in sex and drugs and thinking she was enjoying herself. 

Sandra's latest coin toss had come up tails. Becky watched and she shook her head, knowing what this was and where it would lead them, straight down another downward spiral.

Sandy Taylor was platinum blonde, her hair, collar length and wild, was mussed into a style vaguely reminiscent of a mullet. She was short and buxom, wide hips and big tits, all tightly packed in snug jeans and a sunshine yellow v-neck t-shirt.

Becky could see her mother when she looked in a mirror, there was a undeniable similarity but her mum was rounder, more generous, her face now somewhat lined with age and experience.

Becky could just about admit to herself, though she rarely felt the desire, that her mum still looked pretty good, at least for an older woman.

Right now she was sharing the sofa with her latest boyfriend and he was sharing a bag of cocaine with her which was dumped on the glass coffee table along with all the other usual paraphernalia.

Kasey Parker was well into his fifties, a wild shock of gray hair pulled back into a pony tail sat like a gray squirrel on top of his head. A really old gray squirrel. There a dumb hippy beard that looked unkempt and vile stuck around a cruel thin mouth. He was stocky, not too tall, but he was bulky with muscle inside a suit that was too good for him, tailored and expensive, it made him look more quality and sophisticated than he could ever actually be.

The expensive suit, and the fact that he always had cocaine and other drugs on him when he came around and plenty of cash, told Becky that he would either be some yuppie businessman, which was unlikely - where would her mum have met some one like him? Or a drug dealer. Which was much more likely.

Becky tended to dislike whoever her mum started shagging. Either because they were absolute slime balls or because of the way they tried to be liked by her, get in her good books, she liked it when they bought her gifts but it always felt false, they were doing it to get with her mum, get their feet under the table, not because they liked Becky for herself.

The slime balls either treated her like shit, like she was in the way, or they tried to fuck her, or worse still get her to join in with them. Have a threesome with her own mum? Like that was ever going to happen!

Looking back, and now that she was a little older, she did recognise she had at times overreacted to the ones who had tried to befriend her. 

And she could admit, to herself at least, that she had deliberately driven a few of the nicer ones away but men were untrustworthy. In her experience even the ones who had seemed nice would soon have turned around once they'd got a foot in the door. That's what she told herself. She'd done her mum and herself a favour by forcing out the ones who seemed nice. They would have shown their true colours sooner or later all the same.

She couldn't tell about this Parker fella yet. He was rich and quite fun in a way, cocky and supremely confident, to the point of arrogance which was the kind of man who had always made her mum wet, but there was something underneath that Becky could see, a cruel streak that he seemed to barely be keeping under control. Plus Becky didn't like the way he looked at her. Undressing her. Fucking her with his eyes.

He was going to be another one of those who would want to fuck her too. Probably try to get her to join him and her mum in bed. 

Her mind was already made up. She'd have to break them up some how. But she wasn't sure how to go about it this time.

He was quite scary, if she was honest. He kind of reminded her of Garton, the sadistic, bastard, pervert, loan shark. She would have to think of something, and quick.

The coke had been snorted and Parker had a hand around the back of her mum's neck, pulling her face onto his while his free hand reached for her huge natural boobs, stretching the upper half of her top like a pair of beach balls.

Becky watched, simultaneously repulsed and intrigued. Though she had decided Parker was going to turn out to be another slime ball, there was something attractive about him, his confidence, his money, the way his apparently muscular body stretched the material of the silk shirt. Something about him did turn Becky on a bit. Like mother like daughter? She found herself thinking. Fucking hell! What a thought!

Parker wasn't slow or patient in his seduction of Becky's mum, neither was he subtle. 

Becky wanted to get the fuck out before she either saw more than she wanted to (she'd long since seen more than enough of her mum engaging in dirty sex shit to damage her for life, her mum didn't seem to have any idea about privacy, modesty or what you should keep out of sight of your impressionable teenage daughters) but also she was half expecting Parker to come over and drag her into their dirty fucking games at any moment. 

Still, she felt rooted to the spot, like a deer caught in headlights, like seeing dead bodies in a car crash. 

And still there was the background desire to see what he looked like under that expensive tailored suit. 

To see what he was packing between his legs even. So she stayed in the half open doorway and watched, knowing she should have been out of the door ten minutes ago.

They were side by side, pressed up close on the sofa, their mouths locked, tongues writhing like mating eels.

One of Parker's hands fisted in the short hair at the back of Sandy's head, while his other was busy, urgently groping her big knockers through her stretched out v-neck top. 

Sandy's hands were busy too, one was wrapped around his broad back pulling him close against her, while the other was busy rubbing up and down along the ridge of his erection that was a visible tumescent bulge running down the leg of his dark slacks.

After a few short seconds Parker's hand was sliding down the neckline of Sandy's top to cup and squeeze the bare flesh of her breasts underneath the straining fabric.

"Fuckin' love these tits, Sandy. Fuckin Love 'em!"

He groaned, pulling his lips and tongue from her's for a second and holding her drug and lust burning eyes with his.

"You'll love fuckin' em too Kase!" Sandy replied, her rubbing hand accelerating in pace to emphasise 'love'. 

"Suck 'em an' fuck 'em, babes. Whatever you want! You know that, whatever you want!" She added, panting. 

Becky watched his hand under her mother's top, working, mauling, caressing, squeezing the mass of weighty tit flesh but again, in seconds he had pulled away and started into pull at the top. Tugging the waist band up to strip the garment off her and expose her juicy knockers completely.

"Get 'em out Sandy, get 'em out so I can chew on 'em. Then you can have yer face fucked!"

Becky saw an abrupt wavering in her mother's lustful expression at the term 'face fucked', but her momentary consternation was masked, first by Sandra and then by her v-neck, as it was hurriedly yanked up over her head.

Becky felt a moment of embarrassment at seeing her mother topless in the living room and a horny, domineering man all at once with his hands and then mouth slobbering all over her huge naked tits, however, she quickly snapped the emotion out of her head.

She didn't feel anything for her mother, or anyone else, Becky only cared about Becky. Same as everyone else, everyone only cared about themselves. It was a law on these estates, a law she had learned early.

"Hand-job me." Parker growled, the sound muffled by the hot, sensual orbs of Sandy's huge, hard nippled, tits. "Hurry it up."

Sandra winced visibly while she worked the belt and button of his trousers, as he was obviously sucking and biting, none too gently, on her nipples and hornily slobbering all over them.

Rough, horny, aggressive, uncaring men. That was another law of these estates, they were all the same, the girls just had to put up with it and try and get as much out of it as they could.

Sandy obediently tugged his erect cock out of his underwear and then closed her fist tight around its thick base. The wide, swollen, mushroom crown looked crimson and angry. Her fist moved fast, pistoning up and down in almost a blur. Parker let out a muffled groan and Sandy winced again as he bit hornily at her nipple.

"Lay back. Time ter fuck these tits. Before I shove it down yer throat..." Parker grunted after a few drawn out seconds of tit abuse.

Becky watched them both hurriedly shifting positions, her mum throwing herself onto her back on the sofa, her head crushed against the armrest, hands gathering up her immense sexy orbs of tit flesh, while Parker sat across her ribs, his engorged erection slapping against her big pillowy knockers.

Parker pushed his cock into position as Becky's mum obediently grasped her breasts tight and palmed them into one all encompassing pillow across the middle of her chest. Parker hawked up again and again, spitting saliva all over her tits to lube them up then he put a hand to her throat and a hand on her shoulder and started to shove his hips forward and back with a fast, vigorous pace, grunting and cursing in his exertion and domineering sexual pleasure.

"...Then it's goin' right up yer arse...." He added.

Becky backed out into the hall to collect her handbag and keys. She spotted her mum's purse on the shelf under the framed photo of Jeni's high school graduation day and pinched a tenner from the battered, frayed edged, mock leather purse and then headed for the door.

"That's it my Lord and Master, fuck them udders! Empty yer balls all over 'em!" Sandra moaned, playing along and encouraging his sordid lust.

Becky shuddered. She'd done exactly the same thing at estate parties who knew how many times over the last couple of years?

"Then I'll get you hard again an' then you can ram it right up me arse hole! Spunk up right in me guts!" Becky's mum grunted loudly. 

"Then maybe we can have another line each? What d'yer think?" She suggested, a little more subdued.

"Think I might gonna call Clarence and get him round for an anal team up!" Parker countered, still aggressively humping her tits by the sounds of his heaving staccato response.

"Wait... D'y'ave to? I can't fuckin' stand that guy, he's a fuckin' nutter an' he hurts me! C'mon Kase, what's wrong with just you an' me? I do whatever yer want don't I?!"

"That's enough talkin'! Sluts do what they're told! Now get on yer knees. Time to get that throat somethin' more productive t'do than make noise!"

Becky checked herself out in the hall mirror. She had her hair, lush and chestnut brown, cascading over her shoulders in loose waves. Two pairs of big gold hoop earrings adorned her lobes and bright pink lip gloss dominated her lightly made up face and sparkly eye liner made her large expressive eyes stand out and gleam.

She was wearing an electric pink boob tube, that showed off her own big, perky pair, under a plain white blouse that was unbuttoned but knotted around her midriff. White denim hot pants cinched her taut, sexy ass. And her legs, ending in pink and white trainers, were encased in tights that were cute pink fishnets. 

Happy with her look, Becky took one last look into the living room before heading out of the front door.

Her mum was on her knees on the rug with Parker standing over her pressed in close with both hands gripping her skull, fingers lost in her platinum blonde hair. The full length of his bloated hardness was embedded, down her throat, which bulged visibly with the strain of something too big for it. But accept it she did. Drool running freely down her chin and coating her breasts, which were heaving with her repeated attempts to fill her lungs with fresh air and the hard, fast, thud of her beating heart.

Parker held her head tight and steady while he jammed his cock all the way in her mouth, tugging back halfway then punching the length back in deep again. 

Groaning loudly in time to his commanding thrusts, with obvious and ardent pleasure, he sped up his pace until his hips were almost a blur, his gut battering Sandy's face with fervent aggression.

After a moment, he let go of her head with one hand and grabbed hold of one of her big, creamy tits, crushing the soft flesh in his vice grip and flicking at the hard nipple, playfully with his thumb.

"Listen slut..." Parker grunted.

And Sandy was under no illusions as to who was in command and who's pleasure was important.

"...If I say I want Clarence to team up with me and DP your un-lubed arsehole all fuckin' night, you better well be fuckin' 'appy about it! Say 'Anything, oh Lord and Master!' Or you'll see this constant supply of snow dry up over fuckin' night! Got it?!"

Sandra's reply was an urgent, muffled and guttural "Mm-hmm" around the lip-stretching girth of Parker's throat-ploughing erection.

Sandra deliberately shuffled forward, wrapped her arms around Parker's hips and grabbed his buttocks in both hands, pulling him further into her mouth and humming hornily around his cock, sending delicious vibrations through the thick tingling hardness of his erection.




Chav Ch. 04 Pt. 01



"Ohh, yeah! Ohh, yeah! That's it! Take it babe! Work it good! Suck it bitch! Suck it deep! Suck me!!"

And then Parker's gaze turned and caught Becky's, caught her watching. He grinned at her, his eyes glowing with hard lust. And to Becky it looked wholly predatory, like a shark.

At the same time he slammed his hips even harder into Becky's mother's face, pounding the woman's throat with his hot hard erection. He was noisy with it too, grunting and groaning as he fucked the mother's throat and ogled the daughter lustfully. 

His dark, hungry gaze shifted momentarily as, down below, Sandra reached between his buttocks with an experienced finger and shoved the digit deep into his anus to erotically massage his prostate. 

Becky shook her head, averted her gaze and left without a word.



It was already dark outside. The night sky was a deep midnight blue and the patchy clouds seemed to be formed of a thousand shades of grey, all of them oppressive and heavy.

A line of dull concrete streetlights pointed the way toward the town centre but only three out of the five closest ones were working.

The road drew away from the estate to Becky's right. In the distance on the opposite side were a row of terrace houses. Most of which were derelict or run down, doss houses for crack heads, or dens for gangs of kids doing whatever they could to avoid being forced to go to school.

The remainder of the estate stretched out in front of Becky and off to the left, her place close to the bottom right corner of the large rectangle that formed the shape of the Oakfield estate.

She only spotted the car when its headlights came on but she did recollect later (thinking back when she'd been looking at the out of order street lights), that it had been there, parked up, from before she stepped out of her front door.

The head lights struck her right in the eyes and the car wheels squealed as it performed a fast 'U' turn on the deserted road.

She saw it was an Audi from the street lights catching the four connected circles of it's logo, from the shape it looked like a TT. 

As her view of the car changed from straight on, through side on and then rear view, Becky counted four heads inside the vehicle and she had a strong, stomach churning feeling that all four heads had been looking her way, even as the car shot noisily away up the street toward town.

Feeling uncomfortable and more than a little afraid, she dug out her phone and texted Rochelle.

- on way yours, meet me half way -

The reply: 

- will do. Got news -

appeared after a few seconds. And Rochelle appeared five minutes later.

The hot lesbian babe with her delectable Afro-European bone structure and smooth coffee coloured skin, was super styled with her awesome body on display.

Charcoal ankle boots adorned with little silver chains covered her dainty feet, while white knee socks made her long sultry toned legs stand out and the bare upper thighs, that were almost as eye catching as Becky's boob tube, disappeared under a very short charcoal miniskirt that had a rectangular chain mail panel at the front that diminished into a narrow belt over the gray skirt, which chimed and caught the streetlight illumination alluringly.

The rest of her body was inside a high necked sleeveless elastic number that was black art nouveau vines and butterflies on white fabric. A chunky, high slung silver chain hung around her slender throat.

Her long black hair was all swept to one side, flowing freely past her right shoulder and the close cropped side above her left ear had a Celtic knot pattern shaved into it.

The girl's met, hugged and then shared a cigarette as they walked back to Rochelle's place.

The 'news' was laid out on Rochelle bed in the form of gorgeous young white woman. She was every bit the super model, with irrepressibly long shapely legs that ended in little turquoise hot pants, a lean, lithe torso that seemed to be all but devoid of curves, but looked enticing it a silky, sleeveless top. However, from the neck up she was quite simply faultless. Like a five foot tall version of Frankie from The Saturdays. Though blonde.

Actually she wasn't blonde. Her short straight hair was skillfully styled with alternate spiraling stripes of bubblegum pink and platinum. It reminded Becky of strawberry-and-cream toffees.

"Candi, this is Becky. The mate I told you about." Rochelle introduced.

"Nice t'meet 'cha, Becky." Candi said to Becky with a faint Irish accent.

"Wait. You're called Candi?!" Becky said, aghast.

"Yep, hence the hair!" The new girl replied confidently with a lush smile and a little head dance.

If it had been anyone else Becky would have probably been rolling around on the floor laughing, but this was Rochelle's piece so she maintained a deliberate air of respect for the gorgeous twenty something.

"I love your hair!" Becky said, gushing.

"Thanks, my brother's in the biz, it's one of his creations."

"S'great!"

Rochelle joined her new squeeze on the bed and they immediately intertwined, arms, thighs and cheek to cheek.

"I love what's happening with your top!" Candi returned with a wanton lick of her lips. Her eyes bulging as she ogled the bulging front of Becky's boob-tube.

"Great set of tits you've got there Becky. Rochelle didn't do you justice. You're really hot!" 

Becky said nothing. She was to busy blushing to reply.

"Erm, thanks." She eventually managed. "So, coming round to see how the other half live are you?"

She knew it sounded bitchy and accusatory, and hadn't meant it to. She had just wanted to change the subject. But Rochelle knew her too well to misread and Candi didn't seem concerned in the slightest.

"Actually I was born right here." Candi replied casually. "My dad died of a heroine overdose when I was ten. I decided I wasn't going the same way." She added with a shrug.

Rochelle took over the story, as she slid one hand into the wide arm hole of Candi's sleeveless top, going for a miniscule and, Becky decided, bra-less, breast.

"Candi got out Becks! Dodged the gangs and pimps. She buckled down and finished school. Then went and did her A Levels!"

"I'm heading for Uni in the autumn. I've already been accepted in Edinburgh. Studying for a computer science degree... And fashion." Candi finished.

Her smooth, cherubic, doll-like cheeks flushed prettily and her eyes glistened with obvious lust. She snaked a hand down under Rochelle's chain-mail fronted skirt.

Rochelle picked up the conversation but her voice was decidedly tremulous as Candi started a little finger play up between the tops of her thighs. Becky was torn between feeling uncomfortable and a gooseberry and enjoying the closeness of her best mate, the sisterhood that they shared and now shared with Candi. She liked Candi. She was cool. And hot to boot.

"Becky's lil sister'll be going the same way I'll bet!" Rochelle commented, reaching with her free hand for her phone on the bedside table. She flicked through her photos until she found a picture of the younger bombshell Jeni in a bikini. Barely in a bikini.

The lovely, teenage Taylor, younger of the two, looked like a blazing beacon of combined angelic beauty and a demoness of pure lust with her beautiful features and huge doe-like brown eyes and the body that was designed as the acme of desire and paragon of sin.

"That's Jeni." Rochelle said with a knowing grin and watched with amusement as Candi's eyes popped out of her skull.

"Jesus fuck! That's your sister! What a fucking vixen!"

Becky smarted, feeling the sharp stiletto of jealousy.

"Why the fuck've you got a pic of our kid on your phone!?"

"Wankin' material honey! Thought it was obvious! Your Jeni's too hot for fuckin' words!"

"Fuck me Rochelle!" Becky groaned, shaking her head with incredulity.

Candi laughed, though her eyes were glued to the on-screen glamour shot right up until Rochelle dumped the phone back on the bedside table out of sight.

Rochelle was pulled back into Candi's personal space, by the gorgeous girl launching an arm out, gently hooking Rochelle's throat and pulling her back close in, face to face, then lips pursed and met, and then parted and excited tongues danced from mouth to mouth, while hands caressed erogenous zones, the kind of areas boys knew nothing of or thought inconsequential, but they made the girl's almost writhe with rising mutual desire. The caresses quickly moved to more obvious areas and the teasing alluring intimacy grew very erotic and very serious.

However, Becky hardly noticed at first, she had really caught in Becky's mind and bugged her to distraction was that Rochelle's assessment of Jeni was more than likely right.

The little swot was well on her way to passing her final exams, and was a safe bet to end up going to University. 

She was already out of Oakfield, now living with her dad a few miles away toward the other side of town. Not a long way away, but she had escaped this hell hole and was sprinting away from their old life at a mile a minute. 

Becky was simultaneously proud and jealous of her little sister. It had always been that way. She loved her and was jealous and envied her all at the same time. It had always made for a difficult and confusing relationship for the both of them. And she had to admit that she secretly hated herself for pimping Jeni out to get that cash for Garton. She shouldn't have done it. But at the time she'd been desperate and Jeni had been royally pissing her off during the weeks leading up to it, so she'd become beguiled by the idea of fucking her sister over, dragging her back down into Becky's sordid reality, giving her a proper taste of the Oakfield life she always been able to avoid, even though she lived in the midst of it.

But no. She regretted it and felt guilty and sorry for what Jeni had endured. But there was nothing she could do about that now. What's done was done.

"Tell her Roch. Tell her the good news." Candi said, pulling away from her lover and seemingly bubbling with excitement. 

An excitement which, by the playful hands of both girls on each others' enticing bodies, was increasingly erotic.

"Tell me what?" Becky asked, trying to shrug off the depression that thinking of Jeni was clawing at her.

However, the depression didn't go anywhere. Becky saw it in Rochelle's expression, the serious, slightly downbeat pout. The hesitancy. This wasn't going to be good news.

"I'm getting out of here too. When Candi heads up to Edinburgh next month... I'll be going with her."



Becky stayed another half hour, smoking and drinking with the horny, celebratory lovers but she really wasn't up to it. 

Rochelle had been trying to fill Becky in on her plans, packing her things, collecting a few owed debts then going and find herself some shitty job in Edinburgh, waitressing or bar work or whatever, she didn't care what, as long as she could pay her way. However Candi was undeniably hot for her by then, and their lusty playfulness started getting more than a bit serious.

Becky was half expecting they would try and pull her along with them - with the girl-on-girl fucking, not the move to Scotland, and she wasn't in the mood, so she played the feeling-like-a-gooseberry card and left them to it.

But in reality she was feeling abandoned and alone, and depressed, stuck in the Oakfield shit unable to get herself free of it. 

Emma gone (though she hesitated in thinking of that dumb bitch as a friend), Jeni coming round less and less, Donna, little Lisa and their mum had left in the middle of the night a few weeks ago, after what that loan shark and his goons did to them.

She was loosing friends fast.



She headed home quickly and fortunately she didn't meet anyone else on the way back. She was too engrossed in her own problems to notice much of anything until she was back in her flat and her ears were filled with the obvious, unrestricted, unconfined and deafening cacophony of Kasey Parker still fucking ten shades of shit out of her mum.

She popped into the toilet first and then crossed the hall to the living room. The main light and television had been left on but the room was deserted. 

On the coffee table was the leftover cocaine paraphernalia and two prepared but untouched lines. 

With a shrug, Becky snatched up a waiting straw and snorted the lines up herself and then, waiting for the tingling buzz to kick in, headed for her bedroom.

The noise of her mum and Parker fucking filled her brain.

"Fuck! Urgghh!! Fuck yeah! I'm bashing your back door in! Bashin' it in like a fuckin' cop raid!"

"Owww! Owww! Owww! Bash it in Kase! Bash my back door! Do me! Do me! Do me!"

Becky could tell they were in her mum's bedroom and that the door was wide open. She would have to go past that room to get to hers.

"Oh fuck! Sandy you're such a fucking good lay! Fuck-damn your arse feels great! You really know how to treat your man don'chu?!"

"Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! There any more a'that coke about lover boy..?"

"Greedy bitch, you're still paying off that last couple'a lines! Work my dick 'till I'm sorted then maybe you can have bit more!"

"Okay okay. Feel this then!"

Becky paused in the doorway. The lights were off and the curtains closed but there was plenty of light to see by. They were at it doggie style on the bed. Becky's mum pressed up against the metal bedstead on her hands and knees while Parker squatted behind her, his hands on her huge tits that, even with him griping them, were swinging violently back and forth under her. 

His dick was, of course, stuffed up her ass while he had Sandy ramming herself back and forth in the space between his thighs and the bedstead, fast and hard.

His fingers pulled at her erect nipples, tugging at them as though he was milking the udders of a cow.

Becky moved on. Went to her own bedroom next door and shut the door tight, hoping the noise would be silenced. It wasn't.

"...Squeeze your arse hole around my dick. Squeeze it tight! That's it! Oh fuck yeah! That's fucking fantastic!" 

"Uurrgghh! Uurrgghh! Uurrgghh!" Sandy's groaned reply was crystal clear through the wall.

Becky lay back on her bed, kicked off her shoes and then the rest of her clothes, then wriggled herself into a comfortable position. 

She lay there with the slamming of her mum's bedstead against her bedroom wall, the loud slap of flesh on flesh and their mutual, dirty, sex noises filling her ears and her room.

"You're so fuckin' good at this Sandy. You're gonna proper drain my balls at this rate. So! Fucking! Good! So! Fucking! Good!"

"Go on! Uuurrrggghhhh! Go On! Uuurrrggghhh! Come up me! Come good! Uuurrrggghhh! Come on Kase, fill my arse with your white stuff!"

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Gonna make you shit spunk bitch! By. The. Fucking. Bucket. Load!! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!"

"Oohhh! Oohhh! Oohhh! Oohhh!" Sandra's response was loud and harsh and drawn out.

"Oh God! Take it Sandy! Take my cum! Uuuuggghhhhh!!" Parker groaned louder than ever.

"Yeah babe! I feel it shootin' in me! You're fillin' my arse up! Ooohhh! Ooohhh! Oohhh! Fuck! That's makin' me fucking cum!! Yes!! Yes!! Yesss!!"

Becky lit up a cigarette and tried to block out the noise. This was going to go on for hours. She was lonely and down in the dumps and just wanted someone to chat to. Something to distract her from picturing what was getting done to her mum on the other side of the wall.

She got her phone out and flicked through her contacts for Jeni's number. 

Her little sister had been on her mind since Rochelle had brought her up. No, since before then. She dialled and waited for the response, turning the volume way up while she waited.

"Hi sis. What'cher up to?"

"Hiya Becky. Homework. But I was gonna take a break anyway. You okay?"

"Sure. Just that mum's getting it yet again. Takin' it up the arse too by the sounds of it, screamin' the place down she is. Making fucking noises like a... I don't know... Rabid donkey or some'at."

"Typical..." Jeni laughed down the phone. 

A little awkward, a little embarrassed, Jeni's laughter was half light tinkling bells, half dirty Carry-On film laugh.

"What you been up to?"

"Dad took me shopping. I got this gorgeous top. Gold, wrap around, bit like a kimono with a scooping neckline. Make the boy's eyes pop out it will!" She laughed again. "Dad hated it of course."

"That's how you know you've made a good choice, when your dad don't approve."

"Yeah... So, what you up to?"

"Nowt. Just pinched a line of mum's coke, dossin' on my bed. Tryin' to distract myself from their din."

"Oh.... Becks, don't overdose or anything will you?"

"Don't be fucking daft!"

"Just saying..."

"I know..." The silence drew on and Becky was loosing her nerve so she forced herself to say what she'd wanted to. "Jeni, I miss you. I miss my swotty little sister."

"I miss you too. But, no offence to you or mum, I'm better off at my dad's. It's quieter here, closer to college."

"I know... Don't suppose your dad'd let me come visit some time would he?" She knew the answer before she asked the question.

"...Sorry sis, he doesn't want you in his house. Not after... well..."

"...I know, I know. I've only got myself to blame. I'm a bitch."

"Not all the time." Jeni muttered hesitantly. Trying to be honest and supportive at the same time. It wasn't easy.

"...I'm... sorry Jeni. For... Well, you know..." 

"Everything...?" 

There was a slice of humour in Jeni's reply which smoothed Becky's uncertainty and rising defensive annoyance. 

The little tart was being gracious. So she bloody well should! It wasn't every day that Becky Taylor said sorry for anything!

"...I forgive you." 

Jeni sounded so heartfelt that Becky felt a lump catch in her throat and her eyes misted.

"Cool... Anyway. You'd better get back to it. I'll let you go... Love you sis."

"Okay. I love you too Becks. See you."

"Bye." 

And then Becky ended the call and tossed her phone over onto the bedside cabinet. She crushed the life out of her half smoked cigarette in the top of the Coke can and then dropped the butt inside before flicking off the light and lying back, wondering if the noise of her mum getting fucked was going to end any time soon, or if she'd be able to fall asleep with it going on.

She lay there, naked but warm, trying to let sleep pull her away but the noise of those two fucking like animals was insistently keeping her away from the land of nod. 

She grumbled to herself, threw a trainer at the wall, which resulted in muffled laughter from next door, then louder shagging noises than ever before. 

Eventually Becky buried her head under her pillow...



Becky Taylor sat on the narrow window ledge on the upper floor of Ray Mather's little house, looking in on Ray and Emma McDonald in the early morning. It was raining outside, the cascading droplets drumming in a delicate machine gun staccato on the misted double glazing. Becky was getting wet sitting on the two inch window ledge, but her view inside the small unruly bedroom was impeccable. She was already horny and she knew she was in for a show.

Emma always got more than her fair share of dick stuffing, Becky had seen that much for herself in the short couple of months they had known each other. And she was about to get some more. Ray was already awake. 

He rolled onto his side, propped up on one lean tanned elbow, hooked the duvet and threw it back showing off his grubby lean labourers physique, the smattering of chest hair that danced between his toned but not pronounced pectorals marched in an oddly thin vertical trail down the centre-line of his abdominals, their shape concealed beneath a layer of beer belly, to meet the patch of salt and pepper pubic hair below his naval. The light made his beer gut more pronounced than maybe it should have been. His cock was already a full stretch. A fuck-off impressive display of morning wood, stone-hard and perfectly chiseled as though by michael-gelo or whatever the fuck that artist bloke was called. It made Becky's mouth water. Thick as her wrist with this fuck-off purple bobby's helmet pushing out from the wrinkled foreskin. Under it was a set of balls, thick with spunk and big as a pair of apples.




Chav Ch. 04 Pt. 01



"Hey, Em. Roll over! I'm sending you out with an arse full'a spunk!" Ray grunted to his softly snoring, eighteen year old, girlfriend. 

He put a hand to her and shoved at her. In a hesitant and sleep dulled response she rolled onto her stomach seemingly without waking. Becky silently marveled at his control of the teenage slut. In the cold light of day her infatuation already gave him control of her, but asleep his influence was even more pronounced. Becky, though turned on by the thought of having that kind of control, thought, in this case Emma was just a bit pathetic to give it to such an old useless prick in the first place.

Immediately Ray's hand stroked a quick slalom down Emma's back. She was lying on her front, fast asleep, her head turned toward the window, mouth slightly open. Pyjamas on but rucked up, showing off a pale pink belly, a little too big, but baby soft and creamy. Her tits were covered by the baby blue t-shirt, that was the top half of her pyjamas. The fabric was sheer against the prominently visible and enticing orb of her tit that emerged just by her arm pit. The waistband of the satin style blue and pink pyjama bottoms was low, showing the upper curves of her big ass and the warm shadowy cleavage between them. The pyjama legs were up around her knees.

Ray's hand slid quickly down to her ass, the slalom becoming a ski jump from her broad upper back to her slim waist to her big pert buttocks. He cupped a prominent cheek and squeezed hard. Emma stirred a little, her cheeks sleepily swelling as she subconsciously smiled at his touch. Her lips pouted subconsciously and she licked her lips.

Ray grabbed the waist band of her pyjamas with his free hand and yanked them hurriedly and forcibly down past her knees to her ankles and then let out a moan as his eyes feasted on her naked bottom. The pert, creamy fleshed orbs as ever his for the taking. 

Emma, shocked to awakening by the voracity of her disrobing, let out a sleepy moan, looking back over her quivering shoulder, her face a pretty picture of shock and anticipation. 

She knew this mood. Ray was horny and dominant. This wasn't going to be a slow, gentle, loving making session, or a fun energetic shag-fest. He wanted to fuck. Hard. Aggressive. He wanted to dominate and control. To use her to slake his lusts. This morning she was his bit of rough.

He rolled onto her, sliding his naked legs around the outside of hers, clamping her legs together with his knees. Then he reached down between them and grabbed his cock, positioning, aiming, prodding. He was going to dry fuck her right up the arse. He wanted to shove her head into the pillow to muffle her moans and soak up her tears, wanted to prove his total control of her by deliberately hurting her and watching as she obediently took it, allowed the pain, used it to prove her love for him, her absolute loyalty.

The more pain she felt the better, the more he recognised and believed her total and complete belonging. Emma was Ray's, for better and for worse. This was just an example of for worse. And it wouldn't be the last.

He drove that meat home hard, slamming the whole shaft into her searing hot rectum in one power driven thrust that saw his rounded buttocks tighten and flex into a pair of crescents. Emma's sweet cushioning bottom taking the slamming blow like a juggernaut into a pillow. Emma arched up and back but her body was going nowhere under his. And as Becky knew it would, his hand grabbed the back of her head and pushed her face down hard into the pillow as his brutalising anal thrusting began, slamming that tree branch cock hard and deep right into her tight, hot arse like a ten-ton hydraulic piston.

Right at that moment Becky noticed Barry Mather, Ray's younger brother. He was standing in the door way watching and listening intently. He quietly pushed the bedroom door wide open to get a better view of the old and bedraggled double bed, that was rocking and creaking loudly under Ray's hardcore anal fucking pace. The bedstead was slamming in a loud and erratic pace against the wall and adding its own rattling drumbeat to the grunts and moans of the horny lovers.

Barry was already naked, his eyes were aflame with an almost demonic, bestial lust. They were locked to Emma's pale fleshed nakedness. 

And it was obvious that he was, at least in his mind, replacing his brother with himself. He quietly shuffled into the bedroom and stood in the shadows in the corner, to the right of Becky's own vantage point and watched in hungry horny silence.

Emma's simpering cries, curses and pleas for mercy, though utterly muffled, were clearly and exquisitely audible to Becky. It was as if the window pane wasn't separating them at all. As though she was sitting at the bedside watching with an intimate proximity. And, as far as Ray was concerned, Emma's whimpering complaints fell on absolutely deaf ears.

Emma strained and quivered under him, her muffled cries becoming more and more desperate as her boyfriend savagely fucked her backside without concern or remorse. Finally he let go of the back of her head and reached under her for her pendulous teenage tits. Either incidentally or because they were in sync, Emma lifted herself up onto her elbows, allowing Ray easy access to her shaking, shuddering breasts, while she threw her head back, tossing her brunette tresses and squealed.

"Oh! Hurt me Ray! Ughh! Hurt me some more! Fuck! Make me suffer! Fuck my arse!" She wailed at the top of her voice.

Ray pounded into her rectum, growling and wheezing, over-exerting himself and boiling over with the sheer unadulterated pleasure of this dominant rough anal fuck. His pummeling scrotum slapped at her, like a pair of wrecking balls against her cum seeping, pouting labia.

He clawed at her soft fleshy bottom with his free hand, pushed two fingers up her arse hole alongside his cock, stretching and tightening the damp scalding tunnel even more, groaning at the feel of it cinching tighter than ever around his ready to burst erection. He slid his hand back and then started to spank her hard, loud whip-crack sounds filling the room, where were drowned out almost at once by Emma's resounding response.

"Oh God! Fuck! Yeah! I fucking love it. Spank my arse Ray! Hurt me babe! Fucking spank me!" 

It drove the older man right over the edge and he let out a wheezing guttural groan of absolute exquisite sexual euphoria and then ground his hips against her soft ass cheeks in orgasmic glee. He quaked and quivered, groaning and shivering as he shot his thick, hot, plentiful load right up her ass. 

Becky got off on watching them together, the sadomasochism that obviously lit Emma's sexual fires and the sheer drama of the huge climatic eruption from Ray, though the guy was undoubtedly a prick.

He came hard, then clambered exhaustedly up off her naked and well pummeled young body.

"Goin' f'r shower, babe." - He muttered to her and left.

Barry, unnoticed by his brother, waited until Ray was out the door and heading for the bathroom and then quietly shut it behind him and shifted over to the bed. McDonald lay there exhausted and glowing and nearly orgasmic. Becky could see the fingers of one hand were under her and stroking little circles against her engorged clit. Riding her wave toward the crest of orgasm.

Barry's burning eyes assaulted Emma with that perpetual and aggressive lust that seemed to make his eyes glow red like the eyes of a demon. His smoking gaze fell deliberately over her on display teenage charms, pyjama bottoms hooked around her ankles, pyjama top rucked up around her upper chest, the duvet thrown back and kicked to the foot of the bed, her bare bottom up, exposed and waiting. 

His erection was already at full mast and it put his brother's monster meat to shame. It was elephant sized, gratuitous, almost stupidly proportioned as if it's distended, bloated form was a vulgar expression of the sheer power of his lust for McDonald. Huge, mammoth, the swollen crimson crown flared horse-shoe wide around its ridge and pulsating disgustingly. The shaft as wide in its girth as Becky's shapely ankles. The obscene length bulged with uneven muscle and the pulsating continued down the length through the intricate network of thickly knotted veins that pushed visibly up against the silken foreskin. His pendulous scrotum, swinging halfway down to his knees, swayed as he advanced toward the bed. The balls visibly churning with spunk, were the size of Becky's fists.

He went straight for it, no attempt to persuade or seduce, one hand hooked quickly over her mouth to silence the inevitable cries for help, the other simultaneously cupping and squeezing her naked bottom as he hauled himself up on top of her.

"Hold still Em," He muttered into her ear. "This won't take long, you already got me half way, you fucking dirty little cunt!" 

He pinned her with his weight and rammed his immense shaft straight up her anus, grabbing the base of his vile meat and stabbing it past the spunk lubricated puckered star of the entryway to her rectum. He used his dick like a pile driver.

Even though her position gave her the perfect view, an almost x-ray view, of his vile shaft driving impossibly deep into the tiny little anal tunnel of Emma McDonald's arse, Becky couldn't believe the teenage girl could take it. Was taking it. 

But her face painted an exquisite picture of the level of torment she felt in doing just that. 

The hand still covered her mouth but spittle seeped and high pitched groans blasted between Barry's vice fingers. Emma's lush brown eyes were screwed shut, inexorably tight, long lashes dancing with pressure released tears which collected on her lashes and trickled down the outer edges of her eyes, sliding down cheeks that flushed beetroot.

Sweat beaded and trickled from her brow, staining her hair, flattening her fringe to her vein pulsing temples. Her nostrils flared, her jaw clenched and a muffled, quavering, wailing, screaming moan of sheer agonised despair burst from her. It was clear and long and loud even through Barry's manual gag. But Becky knew it wouldn't reach as far as Ray in the shower.

Barry bottomed out. His huge ball sack slamming like an iron bolas into her pouting pussy lips. Emma suddenly wet herself. Urine bursting from between her thighs and staining the sheets beneath her.

Becky wondered if that was caused by pain or perverse masochistic pleasure.

Barry sodomised his brother's pretty girlfriend twice as hard and twice as fast as Ray could ever manage. And Emma suffered with every inward and outward stroke. Suffered under his clawing hands, his abusive slamming ball sack punching at her damp pussy. His blunt, prominent hip bones pummelling and bruising her soft, fleshy bottom, must feel like sledgehammers battering her arse, Becky thought. She suffered through his free-hand clawing at her shuddering breasts, tweaking and pulling and twisting at her nipples. Barry growled with animalistic pleasure, lost in his own sexual gratification. If it hadn't been for Ray's spunk lubricating, and his none too small dick stretching her arse a little, Barry would surely have torn Emma a new one by now, Becky thought.

The younger brother didn't take any longer to reach his climax in McDonald's sexy anus than the elder had. He pummeled her soft cushioning buttocks with ever faster and more erratic thrusts, groaning and snarling his excited motions. 

Watching, Becky read Emma's mind, saw in her face and manner, the lack of struggling, the lack of passion or resistance, that she had resigned herself to accepting the grunting force of her anal rape, knowing that she couldn't stop it. All she could do was to hope Ray would come back into the bedroom and put a stop to it. And that he would understand and realise that she hadn't been consenting to his brother ramming his dick up her ass like a demented sadist.

"Squeeze my dick, you jail-bait bit'a rough, squeeze it while I bugger you! Little cunt! Squeeze harder! Harder!" Barry grunted, louder than he should have, but he didn't care anymore. Ray could have walked in and it wouldn't have stopped Barry from fucking Emma's hot saucy bottom to climax.

Emma whimpered and obediently started to strain, squeezing her anal muscles as hard as she could around the mammoth proportioned invader, riding along the waves of hot frictional pain that swelled in her young loins. 

Becky could see it in the sexy teenager's flushed face, the intensity, the tightly screwed up eyes, the furrowed brow, the tightening throughout her body and limbs. She strained and shook and moaned until Barry's climax abruptly peaked.

Barry yelled, slammed his hips against her bottom one last time and then lay there for a few moments flat on her, his strong, meaty, tattooed body trembling and jerking, a guttural gurgling noise emanating from his throat that came in grumbling snarls of orgasmic exertion.

"No!" He snapped suddenly.

He leaned up and Becky watched that huge shaft of malformed meat slide out and come free of Emma's anal mouth with a resounding pop. And still his spunk was bursting forth from that huge, thickly swollen cock head.

Becky counted a half dozen thick spurts arching like bull-whips up through the air to splatter down across Emma's bottom and back. She could practically see the girl's flesh blistering with the searing heat of the ejaculated fluid, little swirling clouds of steam rising from the cooling seed. 

Emma wailed in renewed anguish through his clamped hand as her flesh was scalded. Barry snatched hold of his throbbing erection and quickly stuffed it up her cunt, ramming it in hard and deep, all the way in. And snarling as he did so.

"No sloppy fucking seconds for me, yer little bitch! I'm spunkin' up in yer fucking pussy. Gonna give yer a fat belly I am!" He growled in guttural delight and he thrust in her cunt, grinding fiercely against her as he shot the remainder of his load into her pussy.

Becky could see his scrotum visibly palpitating, like a pendulous second heart, pumping his thick, pressurised spunk out of his body and into hers. He was still coming when he pulled out of her cunt. Unconcerned, he let his cock shoot it's stuff wherever while he grabbed Emma and pulled her over to him, rolling her onto her back, dumping a load over her quivering tits and then shoveling his still spewing cock into her mouth, humping her face and feeding more and more of his shaft down her gullet until her face was pressed to his leanly muscled abdominals and his cock was shoved as far in as it would go.

"Swallow it slut! Swallow it whole!" He groaned as he finally felt his climax abating, and his erection eventually wilting.

He dragged his immense but softening shaft out of Emma's throat and then got her to lick the residue spunk that he'd either shot onto himself or had smeared onto his flesh by pressing against hers. 

Barry had her work like that, panting exhaustedly, sometimes dry retching as her visibly bloated belly lurched, trying to empty itself of the spunk she had been forced swallow, until he heard the sound of the shower stop. Then, quick as a flash, he was up and out of the bedroom. The next second and with perfect timing, he was standing in the hall, outside the bathroom waiting for Ray to emerge. Barry shoved his way quickly past his older brother and hopped into the shower himself, naked and unconcerned, making out to Ray that he had been waiting outside all this time for him to finish.

Ray smiled to himself at his brother's lack of modesty and returned to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist while using another one to soak up the water trapped in his black Grecian curls. He looked at Emma who was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking exhausted, disheveled and a little green, trying to stop herself from vomiting up Barry's spunk. Ray did a double-take and then laughed at his cum-drenched teenage girlfriend.

"Christ Em! Did I cum that much?! You're a right mess aren't you! You'd better hop in the shower when Barry gets out."

Becky smiled. There'd be no hot water left for the poor dumb slut.



Becky awoke with a start. The dream buzzing around in her head. 

She hadn't heard from Emma in months, since she and her boyfriend moved away. 

There had been a couple of texts but Becky had never been particularly fond of the younger woman. She had just used her to her advantage whenever the opportunity came up. She was still a bit surprised that Emma hadn't realised she had been used.

She reached over and checked her phone for the time. It had only been a couple of hours. 

She glanced over her phone again, for missed calls or texts but there was nothing. Christ! Since Jeni had moved out and Parker was around all the time she was stuck by herself.

She didn't have the cash to enjoy herself and her mates all seemed to have abandoned her.

The filthy fuck noises had stopped next door but she could hear them talking, as clearly if they were in her room.

"C'mon babe! Get it together, I'm still up for more!"

"I'm knackered Kase! And sore! Can't you give me a half hour or somethin'?"

Becky sighed to herself. Wide awake again now. And hot and thirsty. She got out of bed and threw on some French knickers and a plain white vest top she sometimes used for sleeping in, when she found herself sleeping alone. Then she got up and headed for the kitchen.

And she could still hear them in there! Fuck these fucking walls were thin!

"C'mon Sandy, I've still got loads 'a spunk t'put in you! An' I'm still horny!"

"Just a half hour, Kase. Then I'll nab some baby oil or something and you can go for yer life. More coke too though eh?!"

"Fer fuck's sake Sandy!" Parker growled. "Alright... Half hour, but then you're not getting' any sleep after that 'till I'm proper drained!"

Becky heard the bed creaking and grumbling as body weight shifted, heard the bedroom door opening and then felt a presence approaching the kitchen.

She was standing at the fridge enjoying the cool air from it caressing her warm skin while looking over the meager collection of drinks.

She turned and caught sight of Parker, standing in the doorway looking her with those predatory and sexually hungry eyes. His gaze was going up and down her lithe youthful figure, slowly and carefully.

He was stark-bollock-naked. His cock, nested in a dark mat of moisture coated pubic hair, was not quite half mast, not flaccid but not hard. His balls looked full and weighty in their pendulous, hairy sack. Becky felt creeped out, though by no means surprised.

"Jesus, mate! Put some fucking clothes on!" She snapped.

"Why?" He said, his eyes having come to rest on her profile angled bosom.

"Oh, I don't know. Fucking modesty?!"

He licked his lips before lifting his gaze to hold hers. There was a coldness there that she didn't like.

"You sayin' I should be ashamed 'a my body?"

"No..." Becky replied, hesitantly. "Just..."

However, Parker let the comment slide and changed the subject abruptly. 

"What're you doin' up anyway?"

Becky didn't answer straight away. She looked him over appraisingly. He was quite nicely muscled for an old fella. Pecs and abs, broad shoulders, big arms.

"Nothing. Just getting a drink." She replied, trying to tear her eyes from his admittedly impressive cock.

"Chuck us a beer while you're at it. We'll share it."

Becky pulled a Carlsberg Vintage bottle, one of Parker's own private stock, from her mum's fridge and offered it to him. He took it and popped it open with his bare hand.

Becky was well aware that he was between her and the door.

"Most expensive beer in the world this." He commented. 

Becky wasn't in the least bit interested. She was however studying the pendant around his neck.

Suspended by a thick gold chain, was what looked like a bullet. A big one and brass coloured. It looked stupidly proportioned. Probably over five inches long. There was a ring through the cone shaped part that connected it to the chain. 




Chav Ch. 04 Pt. 02



As with all of these stories, this is inspired by, and dedicated to, Ronin.

CHAPTER TWO:

FOR FUCK'S SAKE!

Becky woke with a start. Her eyes adjusted to the bright light streamed in through a window that was not hers.

Everything was blue and cream, instead of the lush countless greens and browns of the woods she had just been dreaming about. And instead of the natural perfumes of those woods every thing was now stark and clean and smelled of disinfectant. 

And the realisation that she had been dreaming of Emma again developed slowly in her befuddled head. She realised even as the new reality reasserted itself in the form of unfamiliar but recognisable surroundings of a private hospital room.

Even so, she could still hear Emma and Barry fucking, hear the squeaking of those shock absorbers, she could even feel her bed moving to the back and forth fast thrusting of their fucking pace. 

Barry was loud. Grunting, guttural and animalistic. Overall it was a mix of Emma's soft, high, loud throaty moans and gritty, deep and aggressive snarls from Barry. 

Then, once again, reality reasserted itself and replaced Emma and Barry, the former up North somewhere with Ray and the latter dead and buried, she reminded herself, she managed to turn her head. There was a dull thudding pain inside, behind her eyes but it was no worse than a Sunday afternoon hangover, her neck ached too. However, she managed to look down herself, over the complex frame of the hospital bed, with its starched white and blue bedding, down to the far end of it. There was the woman making the noise and there was Mad-Dog making her make it while adding his own guttural grunts.

The woman was actually a Police officer, going off her uniform. 

Her body armour was opened at the front revealing her pressed white blouse beneath which had also been opened. Her plain bra had been tugged up onto her upper chest to reveal small, firm breasts with stiff rosy nipples surrounded by £2 coin size areolae.  

She was tanned, though her bared torso showed bikini lines of creamy pale flesh that stood out against the deeper bronzed skin. 

She was a brunette, her short, bobbed chestnut hair held away from her face by silver clips and was very pretty and young looking, mid twenties was Becky's best guess. She was probably newly graduated or whatever they did.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she had long lashes and a heavy dose of eye liner.

The nostrils of her straight, up turned nose were flared and her thin, though pink lips were slack as she let out a tumult of short gasping moans before chewing erotically on her pouting bottom lip.

Becky noticed between the bars at the foot of her bed that the officer's uniform trousers were loosened but cinched halfway down her thighs, which were visible through the bars and as lushly tanned as the rest of her. 

Plain white knickers were cinched just above her trousers. Her weighty utility belt was pulling her trousers further down her thighs by the second, it was only that her legs were spread apart that stopped them hitting the floor with a thud.

Behind her, his bulk and height framing her much more petite body, in an immaculate silver- business suit, was Kasey Mad-Dog Parker.

He had one hand cupping one of her small breasts, pulling at the stiff nipple between finger and thumb, while the other gripped her throat from behind. He was growling into her sucked-on ear, while he humped away at her hard and fast from behind, pounding at what had to be a sweet and perky little bottom, his cock jutting from his unzipped fly.

Not that Becky could see his cock, but she could see his trousers were still on and belted snugly around his waist.

Becky lay there trying to rest and straighten out her head but they were making too much noise. She knew from the level and tone of their noise that they were nearly done. Not that Parker would be interested in the girl-cop getting off. As long as he did.

"Take it cop-whore!" He growled suddenly, then emitted a series of heavy groans and wheezing noises as he started to empty his fat balls deep inside his young enemy's tight clutching pussy. 

"Take my bastard, crack-dealing scum right up your tight little cop twat you fucking slut-cunt!" He snarled at her in time to his hard bucking hips.

Becky saw the girl-cop's cheeks flushing beetroot at his loud tirade of offence but she took it like she took his hot spunk, without complaint and in silence, just like a victim. Like she didn't have a choice. 

Becky wondered what he had on her, or maybe she liked a bit of rough. Maybe it turned her on.

They parted finally and started to pull their clothes back into order. The officer, in silence, unable or unwilling to look Mad-Dog in the eye, checked herself over and then headed for the door. Parker stopped her.

"Be round at mine tonight at seven. Bring your handcuffs, your truncheon thing. Oh, and plenty a' lube. Clarence's taking you up the arse tonight."

The cop-girl turned positively green, Becky would have put money on her throwing up then and there, but she didn't.

"And after he's done you can suck him off."

She heaved a little and whimpered finally stammered a complaint.

"But... But, you said I..."

"I don't give a fuck what you think I said." Mad-Dog growled. "I'm saying you're getting it up the bum. Hard. Tonight. Got it?!" 

She started to cry, did a little twitchy dance, undecided whether or not to run for the door or stay put. Finally, she gave a little sniffling nod through her streaming tears and then ran.

Mad-Dog watched her go with a laugh and a semi conscious squeeze of his cock through his suit pants. Then he turned to look at Becky, apparently not surprised or concerned that she was awake and had been a witness to the exchange between him and the pretty little girl-cop.

"Her lil' sister owes me big time but she got sectioned into some mental ward or some'at. So now she's havin' t'pay the debt for her. Good for me. Shite for her." He explained with a rancid, malicious grin.

"I love fuckin' with self righteous cunts like her!" He added, laughing as he pulled a chair up to Becky's bedside.

Becky just looked at him. Numb, confused, tired.

"Fucking coppers. Fuckin' enemy ain't they." He muttered, seemingly to himself.

Becky said nothing. She was parched, and sore and tired and her head was swimming. She idly wondered why her mum wasn't here too.

"The bastards'll wanna interview you. You tell 'em shit all, got it?! You don't remember anything." The hint of warning in his voice was as obvious as it was unnecessary.

"Isn't too far off." Becky muttered, before asking the question that was burning her. "Where's mum?"

"She didn't make it. Cunts were gunning fer me obviously, tried to burn me alive in your place. But I'll see to 'em in good fuckin' time. I'll fuck 'em up good 'n proper."

Becky was numbed and shocked at the same time. Though she was aware enough to recognise Mad-Dog's lack of compassion, tact or concern, as well as his obvious self importance. Her mum had died because of him, because some drug rivals (she assumed) had tried to kill him at her house and the best he could come up with was 'she didn't make it'?! At the same time she had enough understanding of Mad-Dog to keep her outrage to herself. He just carried on his self centred discourse.

"You're coming back with me when they let you out. All your stuff's gone. Yer house got burned to a fuckin' cinder."

"You're only alive 'cause a'me, girl. I saved your ass. Remember that. You owe me big time now."

There was a long heavy silence. Parker looking absently around the small immaculate room, while Becky lay there not knowing what too feel or say or how she was supposed to act. She was soon fighting back tears.

"Sorry 'bout Sandy. She was a great lil' strawberry she was. Great fuck." He muttered, eventually.

Again, it felt like he was talking to himself more than to Becky. She had a very hard time biting down her temper. 

Eventually, tears and temper under control, she managed a long weak sigh.

"Christ I need a cig." She muttered.

"Here." Mad-Dog said, fishing a packet and a lighter from his inside pocket.

He lit it for her and passed it across. Becky watched him through the smoke haze. 

His eyes were on her, examining the way the hospital gown and single sheet played across the pert curves of her full, braless breasts.

Then they were interrupted by the appearance of a Doctor. He looked around, sniffed a bit and then focused on the cigarette in Becky's hand.

"Miss, there's a no smoking policy in the hospital. I'm going to have to ask you to put that out, I'm afraid."

"If she wants to smoke she's gonna smoke." Mad-Dog barked.

"It's against hospital policy, and the law..." 

"Do I look like I give a fuck?! Just check what you have to check and then get the fuck outta my sight, you're starting to piss me off!"

The Doctor frowned, thought for a moment, had obvious second thoughts and then silently gave Becky a quick check before having a hurried flick through her notes.

Becky had put the cigarette out on the bedside table while he checked her pulse, and blood pressure.

Parker left a couple of minutes after the Doctor and Becky soon fell back to an aching, exhausted sleep.

The next thing Becky knew was being woken up by a nurse leading two police officers to her bedside.

It was a short interview, uncomfortable but not all that difficult.

The only thing she took from it was confirmation that the house, all her belongings and her mother were gone forever.

They said her mother had died of smoke inhalation and that the cocaine in her system would have acted like a sedative so she probably wouldn't have suffered.

The only thing the interviewing officers got from Becky in return were tears.



The funeral took place two days after Becky's release from the hospital. She was left alone during those first two days. Shown her room in Mad-Dog Parker's large, detached, security-gated house. There were already new clothes and a new phone waiting for her in her room. 

There was even a knee length black skirt, jacket and charcoal blouse with black lace underwear set out for the funeral in the morning.

Becky threw herself down onto her bed, picked up her new phone and started to input the few numbers she knew off by heart. 

She was interrupted by a knock on the door and she sat in silence for a moment staring at the polished bronze door handle, wondering if this was Mad-Dog visiting her for a fuck already. 

It turned out to be a young pretty blonde girl about Becky's age, maybe a year or two younger. 

Becky remembered hearing something about Mad-Dog Parker spending a load of cash on a really over the top party for his daughter's eighteenth birthday. A weird mixture of booze, strippers, a DJ and a giant inflatable slide and bouncy castle. This must be her.

"Hiya. I'm Chloe, Kasey Parker's my dad." She announced, full of vivacity.

She really was very pretty. That youthful Nordic blonde, sweet and innocent look. Immaculate, straight, blonde hair, huge, brilliant, crystal-blue eyes, tiny little childlike nose, full, whorish lips all contained in a pretty porcelain round face with a dainty pointed chin. She reminded Becky of Ava Sambora.

Her body was a perfect example of youthful, toned athleticism, essentially curve-less, but taut and lean with almost defined muscle tone under the silky, smooth flesh. Much of it was on display as she was wearing pyjamas, or at least a baby pink vest top with a Pokemon on the front and a silky pair of loose shorts.

Becky could see erect nipples poking firmly against the cotton of her vest, and a definite camel toe under the high drawn cleft of her shorts.

"Becky Taylor." Becky answered with a nod but no smile. She hadn't felt like smiling since the hospital. No. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she had smiled. Rochelle's maybe? And that had been forced too.

"So, you're dad's new dick-hole then?"

"What?!"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not having a go it's just how dad thinks, we're all commodities to him. I'm no different to you. He doesn't fuck me himself but he uses me to 'sweeten deals' for him. He's got at least six kids and he doesn't give a shit about any of us. 'Specially the females, we're just holes to put dicks in as far as he's concerned. I want you to realise that. Don't for one second think that you're special."

"Jesus! Don't fucking worry about that!"

"I'm sorry, that probably came out wrong. It's great to have someone my own age to talk to. All I see are drug dealers tryin' to fuck me and a few of my dad's dick-holes who think they're better than me, or think I'm in the way. D'you like your clothes. I bought them all. Picked them out myself. Is the funeral stuff okay? I've never been to a funeral before. I wasn't sure what was right."

Becky's head was swimming. This girl just wouldn't shut up!

"Yeah, it's fine, thanks." She said once she could get a word in.

"So who died? My dad wouldn't say."

"My mum. Some enemy's of your dad burned my house down. 'Cause your dad was there."

"Jesus! I'm sorry mate. My dad's a fucking prick! I mean I love him an' all. And I'd never say it to his face, he'd fucking paste me! But he's such a fucking prick some times! Well, most of the time really."

She stayed for another half hour. Talking almost none stop about... Nothing really. Idle gossip about people Becky didn't know yet.

Finally after Becky made out three huge yawns and then, obstinately, started getting undressed in front of the younger girl, Chloe finally got the hint, said good night to Becky and left her alone.



Sandra Taylor's funeral was a small and quick affair. There were only six other mourners besides Becky. 

Jeni and her dad turned up of course. And Becky's Gran, even though the Taylor sisters hardly had any contact with her.

Accompanying Granny Taylor was Sandra's half sister, Auntie Shirley. Like their Gran, Shirley was more or less a stranger. Becky thought she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she'd seen those two... If two of her fingers had been cut off and she wasn't allowed to include her thumb.

Slightly less of a stranger was Julie, one of Sandra's neighbours and one of the few estate people who was actually friendly and caring. 

Becky thought it was partly because they had been similar ages and Julie had been lonely since her elder son had been killed in Iraq or Afghanistan or somewhere. And her younger son had been taken into care. 

Becky had also once caught them in a drug fuelled lesbian sixty-nine, going at it like possessed nuns or something. And she was pretty certain (by the noise that had often been been coming from the open living room window of Julie's place, that the two women had enjoyed a few threesomes and foursomes with lads they'd picked up on occasional Friday and Saturday nights.

Becky had been driven to the crematorium by one of Mad-Dog's drivers/hard-men and he was standing out by the car, a huge, shiny, black Chrysler 300, smoking and eyeing up Jeni from a distance. 

Becky had also been accompanied by Chloe and it hadn't been as bad as Becky had feared. The none-stop mouth from the previous night seemed to have been out of nervousness and the pretty blonde girl was proving to be much more sedate and favourable company, sticking close to Becky and trying to be supportive and thoughtful without being in her face. 

The fact that her mother, who had died in a house fire was now being laid to rest by way of being burned to ashes in a crematorium was not lost on Becky. But the ceremony was short and simple. The MC (or whatever they call themselves) said a few lame and untrue things about "how Sandra had always been dedicated to her family and friends, had led a difficult life but always made the best of what little she had, and that she will be missed by those who loved her". 

About the only part that was true was the last bit, Becky thought to herself sullenly. 

She was well aware too that she hadn't shed a tear of grief for her mother. Not a real tear. The tears for the Police questioners had been a mixture of her own shock and a part of her performance.

She sat in the left hand pew alongside Chloe and her Gran, while Jeni and her dad and Aunt Shirley took up the row on the right side of the central isle.

Afterwards, people milled around the garden-of-remembrance, while they awaited the delivery of Sandra's ashes.

Becky stood by herself, smoking. There were a lot of cigarettes and Becky, though liking the calming buzz of the nicotine, found herself disturbed by the realisation that seemingly most of her family were chain smokers.

Only Jeni and her dad weren't partaking. They were standing alone off to one side, Jeni in tears, her dad hugging her and trying to console her. Becky felt exquisitely aware of her own lack of emotional support. 

Chloe came over and gave her a quick hug but she was still saying very little. Becky's Gran and Aunt were standing together smoking and watching everyone else, muttering to each other with sour faces.

Eventually Jeni came over and hugged her big sister.

"I can't believe she's gone."

"Me neither. I had a feeling it wasn't gonna end well for her, not with her track record... But this...?" 

Becky let out a long sigh, instead of letting the sentence complete itself.

"Jen... Look I know we've had problems in the past, and I know I proper fucked things up with your dad, and my mum, and me of course, but d'you think there's any chance of me coming to stay with you two?"

Jeni pouted but didn't even think about her answer. 

"Sorry sis, but after what you did, dad really can't stand you. He doesn't bad mouth you or anything but he wouldn't even entertain the idea of you stepping foot in his house. He doesn't mind me spending time with you but he wouldn't even let you stop by to visit. I'm sorry."

Becky felt hurt and slightly aggrieved but she just sighed and her shoulders slumped. Another possibility down the pan.

"Can't blame him I suppose. The way I treated him... No way you can talk him around...?"

"Sorry. He's proper stubborn sometimes. You hurt him bad and he's one for holding grudges. I already tried when I heard mum's place was gutted. He wasn't budging for anything."

"Where are you staying anyway?"

"Mad-Dog, fucking Parker's." Becky growled sullenly her shoulders stooping even further. "Mum's boyfriend's putting me up."

"That rich older guy who liked giving it to mum up the arse?" Jeni said with a smirk.

Saying it that way was like thinking of their mum as she had lived, without the shadow of her death lingering over the memory. But it only lasted for a moment and the sisters smiles faded back into sadness once again.

"Trouble is, Mad-Dog Parker's a fucking-psycho-drug-dealer-gangster-twat though. I think he's keeping me 'round to replace mum. It'll be me taking it up the arse before the week's out. And I've no way out. You're at your dad's, Rochelle'll be up in Scotland by now. Donna's gone... Emma... I don't know what I can do."

"Well.." Jeni murmured, her face revealing her lack of conviction. "...I'll talk to dad again, but I don't think there's much chance..."

"Thanks sis but I won't hold out much hope." 

"What about the council? Don't they have a duty to re-house you?"

"Parker's taken it on himself to play the good step dad or whatever, gave them his address as where I'd be staying from now on. I'm not even on their books now. Besides you know what they're like. It'd take months. Maybe if I got myself knocked up...?"

The look of shock and disapproval on Jeni's face was a picture that at one time would have had Becky raging and screaming at her, but now it cause little more than feelings of embarrassment in the elder sister.




Chav Ch. 04 Pt. 02



"I know. I'm a fuck up but I don't wanna end up that kind of fuck up. I don't wanna turn into mum. I'm just desperate and running out of options. Actually, I can't think of any options."

"I'll come and visit you at your place. Give me your address...?"

"No fuckin' way. One look at you and Parker'll make it his mission to get his hands on you. I don't want you getting dragged down too. Stay away from him, sis. Seriously."

"Okay. If you're sure."

"I am. I'll keep in touch and we can meet up in town or something."

Their conversation ended with an old man in a black suit and a stoop bringing out a stainless steel urn that contained Sandra Taylor's ashes. He passed them to Becky who, as the elder daughter, was next of kin. It was the cue for everyone to depart and to go their separate ways.



Everyone pretty much left Becky alone that night, but she felt anchored by her grief, deepening depression and the situation she had found herself in and felt unable to pull herself free of. So she hurried upstairs to get changed, having decided to head into town and drown her sorrows or something.

She pulled out a white, high necked, sleeveless, lace top that apparently did amazing things to her tits, especially without a bra on. To accompany the top she picked out a white lacy thong, a pair of white knees socks with pink swirls and a pink and white tartan miniskirt with a cute flat cap to match. 

After dressing quickly, throwing on a jacket and checking her small mock-Burberry handbag for cash, she got the bus into the town centre. Afraid, because, though it wasn't the infamous night bus, it was after nightfall and even the unspoken street rules were rarely followed by the residents of the Oakfield area.

It was even-odds that a girl alone or in less than a group of say four, on a bus after nightfall was going to get fucked.

She had one of her mother's old bobby socks with a fistful of Pound coins stuffed down where the toes were clutched in her hand which was stuffed into the pocket of her unzipped fake Filo jacket.

She had been thinking about the cash at first and vowing not to spend it all and leave her without her makeshift cosh, but then a sudden realisation struck her and almost brought her to tears. 

Apart from a couple of pictures on her phone that she had taken of her mother in potential blackmail-able poses poses of her mother - naked and doing all kinds of her usual disgusting, sordid and overly perverse things with numerous partners, often three or four at once and always with gusto - that she'd taken on the sly (just-in-case), that single solitary sock was all that she had left of her mother.

Becky realised the moment after the sock fact that she didn't even have the photos anymore. she's lost her phone in the fire and had that admittedly very cool new one from Parker.

And then she savagely snapped her eyes shut, fighting the brimming tears deep down and put the usual dangerous scowl on to her pretty face.

Three lads got on, spying up and down the isles. Looking for sources of mischief. Their first stop was a pretty, older woman, probably around their parents age. She was sitting alone wearing some kind of apron uniform thing, in purple with blue edging. Becky had recognised the logo on her jutting bosom but didn't know what or where the place was.

The lads, or at least two of them, seemed to be much more interested in what was making the woman's uniform jut so eye-catchingly.

However, the third lad had spotted Becky and was eyeing her up lasciviously, from half way up the length of the bus. He got the attention of his two friends and nodded urgently in Becky's direction.

The other two eyed her as well but one of them just shook his head.

"Leave her. That's Taylor." He said dismissively.

"So?"

"'Aven't you 'eard, dick'ead? She belongs t'Mad-Dog dun'she!"

"Mad-Dog?"

"Parker, you fuck-whit!" The third one added.

"Oh... Jesus."

And then he turned his attention to the woman the other two seemed to have chosen for abuse.

Becky couldn't decide if she was relieved or disappointed. On the one hand she had protection from the predators of Oakfield, something as a young attractive woman, she had always sought out, but on the other hand it was a stark reminder of just how afraid people were of Kasey Parker, of how dangerous he was. And that terrified her.

One of the other two lads sat down next to the woman, practically on her knee. While the other sat behind her, kneeling on the seat. Becky could see most of what was going on from the bright reflections that were mirrored on the windows of the bus, aided by the near blackness outside.

The two lads were sharing the woman's breasts. The one behind her had a hand tight over her mouth while the other was stuffed down the neck of her apron thing, cupping one meaty tit.

The other lad was shoved up tight against her hip, so she was trapped between him and the side of the bus. And both of his hands were shoved under the apron from the side, both clamped tight onto her bosom.

The woman struggling an slapping at them until the one behind her was whispering things that had the woman turn green and then stop struggling in their grasp.

The lads relaxed, the hand came away from her mouth and then two pairs of hands started to hurriedly undress her from the neck down.

They didn't take much care and blouse buttons flew once the apron was released from its press stud fastenings and peeled down. Her large breasts were confined tightly in a bra that was too small and tit flesh was bulging out from all over.

The lads didn't care about that either, they just hooked the black lacey cups quickly up onto her chest and let the goods bounce free and straight into their waiting and eager hands.

The bus stopped, the doors opened and two large black policemen stepped onto the bus. Becky cursed inwardly. Rod and Bull.

They said something to the driver then slowly advanced up the length of the bus. Rod spotted Becky almost at once and made a bee line for her. Bull on the other hand paused at the now topless and molested woman.

Becky was watching intently. The woman was pleading with her eyes. The lads, though with hands still full of naked tit flesh, weren't moving and were instead staring up at the man-mountain standing over them.

Though Becky couldn't see the woman's face she imagined the silent pleading look in her eyes as she tilted her head to catch the cool appraisal of her so-called saviour.

There was some kind of silent exchange, then Bull put a hand to his utility belt, drew out the regulation mace can and zapped both lads in the eyes with it. The lads screamed and stumbled away from the huge brute of a Police officer. He watched them impassively, his free hand hooked over the grip of his truncheon, like a waiting gunslinger from an old Western.

The lads somehow found their way blindly off the bus. Then just as coolly, Bull got out his note pad and insisted on the woman giving over her name, address, mobile number and what time her shift ends.

All Becky heard of the conversation was Bull's final words to the shaking, all but topless woman.

"I'll come and see you when you get off work." he said. The woman's response with a silent shaky nod of the head.

A moment later, as if the altercation had never occurred, Bull had turned his attention to a black youth half way down the isle on the other side of the bus from the woman, who was now trying to cover herself and hold back sniffles.

Bull reached down a huge shovel of a hand for the boy who couldn't have been any older then ten or twelve. Their eyes met. 

"C'mon Jamal, time to face the music lad." Bull said. The lad quietly got to his feet and with head lowered stepped out into the isle beside the huge Police officer.

Rod, eyeing Becky, cast a comment to his partner, even as he started up the isle toward the back seat where Becky sat.

"I'll catch up with you later, mate, take the car. I'm riding the bus into town with Taylor there." Rod said.

Bull nodded, just the hint of a smile touching his lips for the briefest moment, before he turned and led the boy off the bus.

Then the doors shut and the bus was on its way once again.

Rod got straight down to business, but not in the manner Becky had been expecting. He sat beside her on the back seat, feet up on the seat opposite, incidentally blocking any easy egress for Becky and turned to her.

"Alright Taylor."

Becky looked him in the eyes, tried to smile but didn't quite pull it off. She tried to look sullen but the fear seemed to shine through from beneath the attempt.

Rod ignored it all. 

He looked her up and down, his cruel brown eyes lingering on the perky jut of her breasts.

But his hands were hooked into his utility belt and stayed there.

"What's become of that mate of yours? Emma. That short girl with that really fuckable ass?" He asked her.

"She left. Moved up North with her fella." Becky muttered.

Not knowing where this was going and uncertain of how to act, she kept still and just answered his questions.

"Did you know she came back for more? About a week after we did you two?"

"No. She never said. What did she do that time?" 

It was difficult talking with Officer Rod. Becky knew his temper was really short and the wrong thing said or taken could have you in a whole heap of trouble. Weirdly though he was being almost friendly. "Maybe he's downed a couple of E's or something." She thought to herself.

"Nothing." He laughed. "She actually came to us... Serious! She came around looking for Bull and me. Offered us her ass fer nowt. It was sweet. She was even blushing when she said it. Dirty bitch. She even offered to let us 'cuff her to Bull's bed. Wanted us to take turns up her ass. She must have got a taste fer it that last time, with the four of us."

Becky let out a noncommittal grunt, that Rod took as disbelief but surprisingly, he still didn't take offence. He laughed instead.

"I'm serious Taylor! She'd gone all out! Got herself all dolled up. Hair all done, all-over fake tan, make up, little flared skirt, tight top. She even brought her own lube!"

Becky couldn't help but smile at the thought of Emma dressed up and begging for anal. However unbelievable it sounded.

"So what happened?"

"What d'yer think? We got her stripped off, on her hands and knees, cuffed her wrists to the bed, and gave her a three hour fucking train-gang up her arse! One of us got sucked off while the other one fucked her arse then we'd swap. The sucking stopped after the first hour, her throat was hurtin' and she begged us no more deep throat. But we dragged the ass fucking out for three.

"She proper got off on it though. Bull said she'd cum so much her juice was soaked right into his mattress, must have cum twice for each time we did. And we cum fuckin' bucket loads."

"Why though?" Becky wondered aloud. "I can tell you she didn't enjoy it that last time. Neither of us did."

"You weren't supposed to dumb bitch, it was a punishment fuck!" He laughed.

"I don't know. Maybe she got off on it, like a masochist? Who cares...?" He continued with a unconcerned shrug. 

"...Or maybe she felt like she needed punishing or something. Like going to a priest for confession. Our dicks ripping up her arse for three hours was like a thousand fucking Hail Marys!"

The bus, going a tiny bit too fast, rounded a corner and shoved people across their seats, Becky had to brace herself as she was shoved in Rod's direction. She didn't want any pretence of her deliberately pressing herself against him. She didn't want to give him any kind of an accidental come on.

"Sayin' all that, she fucking cummed plenty, all the same." Rod went on. "Wasn't quiet this time either. Eggin' us on she was... For the first hour anyway... Screeching an' cursing the roof off the rest of the fucking night!" He laughed to himself at the obviously fond and erotic memory of it.

"Shame she's left town. Bull was talkin' about takin' possession. Makin' her his regular arse piece. He's gonna be pissed."

Becky found herself wondering if Emma had somehow started to feel responsible for Barry's death. It was the sort of dumb shit she'd do. Blame herself for something that wasn't anything to do with her and then go and get her arse ripped up by these two sadistic bastards as penance or something. 

Sounded like she'd saved herself a shit load of heart, and arse, ache by moving on when she did. Lucky cunt. Becky thought.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry t'hear 'bout your mum, Taylor. Sandy was a right sexy bitch. We'd both had her a bunch of times over the years. Fuckin' waste."

"Ta." Becky said distractedly.

She was thinking again. Thinking about Rod. Her best bet was to find protection against Parker. Someone she could give herself to who wouldn't be intimidated by Mad-Dog. Someone she could rely on. Someone who'd keep her safe from him. Rod maybe fit the bill? 

Fortunately, Officer Rod seemed to be done with her. He pulled himself up out of his seat, nodded a brief farewell to Becky, and then got off the bus at the next stop without another word.

Becky slumped back on the rearmost seat with a deep, guttural sigh of relief, annoyed with herself and relieved that Rod had been uncharacteristically placid and that she hadn't gone down the road of offering herself to him in exchange for protection from Parker.



The town centre was bustling with the usual sordid displays of night life entertainments. 

They walked up and down the streets, teenage girls, their young fleshy wares intimately shown off and on overt display, while potential teenage and older male suitors drove up and down slowly in cheap but over blown and noisy souped-up cars, looking, ogling, throwing depraved and perverse overtures at the girls, trying to impress and shock at the same time. It was a vile and dominant mating ritual that Becky knew all too well. 

You gave in to it, giving them the submissive lusty whore they wanted in exchange for money, drugs, booze and excitement. 

And you hoped that the drugs and booze and excitement dulled the self-revulsion and the embarrassment and debasement that you felt while you were debased and subjugated and dominated while they were fucking you whenever and however they saw fit. 

You just had to accept it and hope you wouldn't remember it in the morning, that you got something out of it. Some level of sexualised respect that you did them good, showed them a good time, that they would remember you and maybe felt like they owed you a favour or something down the line. Whatever it took to dull the shitty life that you lived in and around the Oakfield estate.

Becky saw a lot of the usual faces, saw all the usual scenes and scenarios. But this time, in her grief and depression, the usual rose tinted, drug and alcohol coloured allure was no longer present. 

All she saw was the stark, ugly reality of all that youthful depravity. The very thing she had done on a daily basis for years. The thing her mother had done growing up, in another estate just like this one. 

The very depravity that Jeni had somehow managed to avoid, that Rochelle and Emma had somehow escaped. 

The same depravity that she was very much still trapped in and unable to free herself from. A quagmire of sin. It made her feel queasy and ugly. Made her feel weak and diseased. Dirty. Unclean.

It had been raining and the slick reflective coating seemed to make everything seem all the more filthy. The repeated orange glow from the dim street lights threw a dirty orange filter over everything, and it was only cut away by the gaudy neon of shop fronts. Fast food places, many with cracked fascias, food smeared glass, in need of repainting repairs, all with litter strewn pavements outside. Dull taxi-ranks in need of a lick of paint and better quality advertising, not to mention the thirty year old interior decor. 

The pavements and roads were dappled with soggy discarded rubbish, food wrappers, news papers, cigarette butts, used condoms and other unrecognisable detritus.

The human trash that also littered the streets was just as ugly and depressing and gaudy and distasteful.

And Becky seemed to know every example by either name or reputation, one of which was only a couple of yards away.

Still fat and still desperate, Becky had gone to school with Ann Edwards, she had been so lonely and needy for male attention that she had quickly gained a reputation for taking it up the ass by any lad who would show a little interest and buy her booze or weed. 

She wasn't unattractive, just overweight, her long loose hair danced in serpentine waves and was streaked equal parts black and red. She wore a white polo shirt with blue stripes, that bulged against her massive breasts and belly and her black stretchy jeans clung to her big hips and thighs. 

At the time Becky had thought of her as a sad, pathetic heifer and had cruelly told her so on numerous occasions. 

She had quickly become a source of ridicule as well as a dirty plaything for the jocks, but weirdly, it had kept her away from the even seedier crowds of Oakfield council estate lads and the gangs.

She was more a kind of - "Go round to your house, maybe I'll help you with your homework, I'll definitely suck you off and probably let you fuck me in the ass, if you get me drunk or high and let me feel wanted for a couple of hours." - than going to estate house parties, getting shit faced and fucked by random lads you didn't remember the next morning. 

Becky found herself thinking back over her own sordid memories, dour, depressing images flashing into her attention as the memories came flooding back. The only evidence that you'd been with a lad the night after a party was the taste of spunk in your mouth, and the soreness and bruises between your legs and on your tits. 

The number of Sunday afternoons she'd woken up and realised what she'd been up to, though with no clear memory, just by the physical evidence, on and in her body, and often worse yet, on her taste buds...

Ann was sitting on a park bench under a tree, at the side of the little Aldi supermarket sandwiched between a couple of collage age footballers. They were sharing a bottle of gin and passing a fat, hand-rolled joint.

One of the lads had his hand down the neck of Ann's polo shirt, feeling up her huge tits while she had one hand each on the lad's bulging crotches, rubbing and stroking their obvious erections through their tracksuit pants. The lad who didn't have his hands all over Ann's tits took a huge, lung bursting, drag of the joint, held it while he yanked Ann's head to towards him and then shoved his open mouth onto hers and exhaled weed smoke so quickly into her mouth that it came out of her nose and induced a coughing fit that the lads both started to laugh at.

"Time you took it up the arse, like you promised."

One of the lads pulled Ann to her feet and led her into the darkness of the car park around the back of Aldi, while his mate relaxed back on the bench and started rolling another joint. 

Becky took the same route, passing through the car park to get to the main street.

She passed them by, keeping her distance and relieved that her trainers kept the noise to a minimum.

Ann was bending over a low wall on the edge of the car park, leaning on her hands and looking back over her shoulder as the footballer lad yanked her stretchy jeans over her huge arse and down to her ankles in a hurried horny motion. She didn't seem to have any underwear on.

"Can't we go back to yours? Do we have to do it out here?"

"No we can't, an' yeah we do! Now shut yer mouth an take my cock!"

"Okay but... Be gentle yeah?"

"Fuck that! You know the way we do you! Now shut up!"

Ann turned her head back and tried her best to relax as the lad drew his big hard dick out of his elastic waistband and pushed it hard against her ass hole.




Chav Ch. 04 Pt. 02



She whinnied and whimpered and the lad growled and then suddenly he was up her ass and driving his hips hard against her fleshy, quivering buttocks.

"Oh fuck! That's what I was after! Fuck yeah! Take it you fuckin' heifer! Take my big dick in yer shitter!"

Becky missed Ann's whimpered, teary response, but she couldn't fail to hear the loud and distinct crack of his open hand on her naked bottom. 

"Yer my fuckin' heifer. Yer the team's fuckin' heifer! An' I'll tell you now, the only reason you're coming along this weekend is so we've got a nice, easy, back door to plough our dick's with and someone to lick our spunk up with. But don't worry, there'll be plenty'a booze and weed for ya! Now fuck yer fat arse back on me an' get ready t'take my spunk, you fuckin' heifer!"

As Becky passed them by, leaving the girl's pathetic whimpering and the lad's loud, animated grunting behind her, Becky had a sudden realisation that the dozen or so other girl's on the main street beyond would more or less doing the same thing. They just weren't being quite so open and honest about it.

So, really, what was the difference between her and Ann Edwards? Most of the girls, Becky included, were essentially playing by the same rules, degrading themselves in order to fit in. 

At least Ann was matter-of-fact about it. Not hiding it behind youth lifestyle, street culture and all that bullshit.

The appearance of the smarmy business suited perv, with the big cock and bigger bank account, caught her eye and cast all thoughts of Ann Edwards away. Becky angled for him, quick and determined.

She watched him as she crossed the street and accelerated her pace, trying not to let the hope and excitement get the better of her. Little day dream fantasies of them lounging on a beach in Spain, no, the Bahamas! Drinking cocktails, being cooled by big beefy black men with palm leaves. Then later, still on the beach, though alone, screwing, passionate, frantic and horny, by moonlight. She cast the silly thoughts aside and watched him. 

He was standing with a group of what looked like University sluts from out of town, probably sampling the night life. 

They might be Uni sluts but they obviously weren't smart enough to regret their decision so far. 

Three of them were pretty chubby girls, with too tight leggings and t-shirts on with big quaffed hair and thick make up. 

Of the other two, one was little with short blonde hair and a delicate frame that looked like a pixie and then there was the other one who the smarmy, rich bastard had set his eye on.

She was tall and slender and very pretty, with proper tight skinny jeans on and a snug, sleeveless Lycra top that was a mass of swirling colours like stylised wind-carved clouds.

Her tits were by no means big, but the Lycra made then jut forward enticingly. She had an ass to die for. 

Her straight long dark hair was whipped up in a front poof with curtains that fell smoothly from her temples and framed her pretty, big-blue-eyed face perfectly.

As Becky watched him talking to her, being obvious, posing, showing off, flashing the cash and then grinning like a shark, the girl was going redder and redder, her eyes all over the place, sometimes directed by the business man's words, sometimes dragged away from him. Then, at his final comment, she blushed like a cute strawberry, called him a pervert and then stalked away with her bitch posse following her, all looking aghast and disgusted.

The man just stood there watching the girls depart. Well, watching the hotly flexing ass of the girl he'd chatted up and laughing.

Becky closed in on him, flicking open her jacket to reveal her braless breasts, using her quivering breasts and her prettiest, most alluring, smile to draw his attention.

"Hi, remember me?" She said, her best sexy smile reeling him in.

His eyes did the ubiquitous long, slow, up and down over her slender, curvy young body. He returned her smile, but his had a predatory, shark-like intensity to it once again.

"I do." He said easily.

"I have something I wanna ask you..." She began, but the man held up a hand.

"Pleasure always before business. You wanna hook up? You up for a quickie? Like last time, thirty quid to fuck your cunt, or fifty for anal."

"Well, maybe. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about..."

"Pleasure before business." He repeated, snappily, talking over her. "Say 'yes' and maybe we'll talk."

"Okay then." Becky sighed. "I won't take it up my bum though. I'm not doing anal. Just a quick fuck."

"Fine by me. Long as you get me off good."

He grabbed her wrist and hurriedly led her down a shadowy alley between two shops. Street lights gave off a little illumination, enough to show off the dank bricks and flaking concrete skimming, the cracked concrete floor, old, cracked plastic guttering and drainpipes, wind gathered litter, both fresh and ancient, sun-bleached and matted together by rain water. A couple of old cars were parked there too, maybe abandoned.

"Strip. I'll let you leave your trainers on but that's all." He said.

She shrugged nonchalantly.

"What's your name anyway?" Becky asked as she started to strip her clothes off.

The jacket came off easily, though the tight lacy top was a bit harder, the skirt unfastened in a split second and unwrapped itself. She deposited each garment carefully on the bonnet of the nearest car.

"Why?" He asked, his eyes sticking out of his skull and drool all but pouring from his partly open mouth.

"Just curious. This'll be the second time you've had me and I don't even know your name yet."

She bent from the waist and slipped the thong down her long legs, showing off. Showing him what she had on offer. Selling herself.

She left the knee socks and her trainers on and then turned to face him again. A coquettish smile playing at her full lips.

"It's Adam." He said.

He was flushed, visibly horny and a little breathless with his obvious desire for her. "Happy now? Right, hurry up and bend over the bonnet."

Becky leaned over the bonnet, putting her weight on her forearms and waited patiently for him. Apparently he wasn't bothered about fore play at all.

"Keep your legs together."

She did so, felt him grasping her taut cool buttocks, felt him spread her lips with his thumbs, felt him try to penetrate her.

She was warm but pretty dry and the rasping feel of his hot hardness spreading her sensitive labia sent shivers and sharp stabs of frictional stinging through her unprepared pussy. 

Then Becky heard him grunt as he recognised her lack of lubrication, she heard him hawking up saliva.

There was a pause while she pictured him spreading his drool over his cock and then in time with her imagination, he shuffled forward and pressed the hot slick weight of his huge hard cock against her pussy lips and then pushed his way home.

He was as big as she remembered and he required a couple more mouthfuls of his saliva to lube his cock adequately. However, once he was properly inside her, gripped by her tightness and bathed in her succulent heat, he started up a deep firm sawing of his cock in and out of the divine cave of her pussy. 

Becky couldn't help but give a groan as she felt that huge hot, heavy meat filling and stretching her insides. And she realised this was the first time she'd had a cock in her pussy since... When was it? Before her mum died. Parker had been the last man to fuck her but he'd stuck it up her arse. Probably the weekend before but she couldn't remember who it had been.

The business guy, now thoroughly into it, leaned over her back to hook up her big swinging breasts and squeeze them firmly in his clawing, horny hands.

Becky knew from experience that he wasn't going to last long. 

She felt herself getting wet, through the numbing fast deep thrusting cock that stretched her insides in every direction, her own juices easing the hot friction and making Becky groan with rousing desire and mingled guilt, that she was enjoying a fuck on the day she'd cremated her mum.

The man fucked her harder and faster, driving his cock deep into her, and slapping his hips against her sexy ass while he mauled her lush young breasts, pulling at her hard nipples and growling against the back of her head with his usual aggressive lust.

"Oh fuck! I'm gonna cum! Jesus!! Fuck!!" The horny business man groaned. "Turn around, I wanna spunk on your tits! Hurry up!"

He stumbled back and Becky quickly pushed herself up, squatted down against the wheel arch of the parked car and pressed her torso back against the bonnet again. He threw himself hard onto her as both of their hands mashed together onto her large perky tits and wrapped his hard throbbing meat in their soft pillowing warmth.

He fucked her tits fast, like a rabid dog. Clawing at the soft fleshed though firm orbs, making Becky wince and chew at her bottom lip.

"Oh fuck yeah! Fine fucking melons! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Work my cock! Work it! You little fucking whore!"

And then his cum burst out of his bloated purple crown in a half dozen huge wet bursts of thick steaming hot pearlescent fluid.

The smarmy bastard, at the last second, grabbed Becky's head and angled her mouth to his cum spurting crown and made her take the last three or four gouts of spunk across her tongue, shoving his dick in deep, lodging it a good way down her throat while he let fly.

"Swallow my spunk! Oh fuck! Swallow it down! Take it all! You dirty fucking chav whore!"

Becky gagged and spluttered but she gulped the hot, plentiful cum down in a couple of heavy swallows.

"Jesus! Fuck! That was fucking amazing!" He said once his balls were drained and he was flicking the last vestiges of his seed over the teenage hottie's pert and proffered rack.

Becky was using tissues from her little handbag to clean up her chest, tits and cleavage of the cooling spunk, and the business man was straightening out his clothes when Ann Edwards limped past them.

She eyed Becky and the business man and Becky threw her a cold but peaceable nod of acknowledgment but no greeting passed either girl's lips.

"God-fucking-damn! My bastard fucking arse is fucking killing me!"

The pretty, overweight twenty year old moaned to herself and while she winged and hobbled past, one hand was reaching behind her to press and stroke at her broad backside, which was swinging pendulum-like as she headed for the mouth of the alley.

"Why d'they always have to fuck so goddamn hard all the time? And why always up my arse?! Just once I like to feel what it's like to have someone fucking my pussy. Is that too much to ask?!"

She carried on complaining to herself as she reached the mouth of the alleyway. 

"I've lost count of how many times I've took it up the bum, even though I'm still a virgin!"

And then a van screeched to a halt at the mouth of the alley, blocking Ann's path and silencing her suddenly.

The side door slid open revealing a group of a half dozen or more twenty something lads in football kit sporting beer cans and sprouting drunken, ribald, horny remarks and cat calls and filthy sexual oaths at her. 

In the next second they reached out, four or five of them at once, grabbed Ann and hauled her inside, laughing and throwing more dirty remarks at her.

"Oh! Again?! Jesus lads!" She squealed.

As the side door was pulled shut, Becky caught a second long glimpse, of the lads tugging at Ann's clothes and slapping her meaty tits and big arse. Then the door slid shut and locked on her and the van tore away from the kerb.

"Who was that?" The smarmy businessman asked, staring at the now clear mouth of the alley.

"Oh she's the college team's mascot. They give it to her in the ass. Won't stick it anywhere else. Well, down her throat, but mostly up her ass. And they all do her."

"She likes that? Dirty fucking heifer!"

"'Course not! But she's lonely isn't she! And it's the only attention she gets from lads. I suppose, for her, it's better than nothing."

The business man shrugged thoughtfully, still gazing down the mouth of the alley with a little horny smirk. Then he finally caught up and looked back at Becky. Who was just righting her breasts inside the confines of the tight lace top.

"That was a fucking good fuck,you delightful young slut! You proper did it for me. Now I'm ready for something else."

"What d'you mean something else? I've let you have me and now I wanted to ask you something..." 

"I think I spotted a girl I've arse fucked once before. I might see about giving her another load. But, you did have something ask me, so go ahead... I'm all ears."

Before Becky could start though he interrupted her again.

"Oh, hang on you want paying don't you..." He said, shaking his head and reaching for his fat and expensive looking wallet.

Becky saw an opening and took it before the nerves took over.

"Well... no. I don't want your money. Take that as a freebie."

The smarmy business man looked at her in surprise, blinked, momentarily frozen on place. Becky carried on before he could interrupt her flow.

"You liked it didn't you? You like my body?"

He watched her with a bemused frown, obviously trying to work the angles, not knowing what she was up to.

"You like what we do don't you...?" She carried on. "So... How'd you like to make it a permanent arrangement? Y'know, you and me? fucking all the time...?"

There was a momentary silence, Becky felt herself blushing. The smarmy business bastard just looked at her the creased brow deepening. 

"...I'd do whatever you wanted." She added, though now it sounded like a plea to her.

She bit down her rising anxiety and carried on, trying to sell herself, sound optimistic and seductive.

"Goes without saying. Imagine us, fucking, getting high, fucking some more, whenever, wherever. Pussy, arse and deep throat all on tap, however you wanna do me. Sounds good, dunnit, Adam?"

He didn't answer straight away, just continued to look at her, his eyes now flashing between amusement, possibly lust and what could have been anger.

"Is that like, supposed to be a joke? Are you kidding?! Do you know I have a wife and five kids?!" 

He was actually sounding quite apologetic, sympathetic to her. But Becky was under no illusions as to her being rejected. 

"Listen kid, quick fucks with young sluts is all I'm after. Some teenage-mistress hanger on?! Making demands on my time? No fuckin' chance...!"

Becky felt her heart sink but she bit down the rising despair and gripped hard to her anger. 

She wanted to tear the flesh from his smarmy, predatory features with her fingernails but instead she gave him nothing more than a growled - "Fuck you then!" - through gritted teeth and stalked off out of the alley and down the street as quick as she could.

She spotted two other people she recognised at the next corner and she stopped dead, feeling the shivers of fear and the flight or fight response urging her to run the fuck away back the way she had come.

It was a girl and an older man. She knew them both. He was Scottish, burly and bitter, a retired Police officer who had leant Becky his classic car which she had summarily crashed and left on the roadside.

The girl with him was an estate girl that Becky had baited into chasing her to the retired copper's flat, where he had maced her in the face, imprisoned her and sadistically raped her, up the arse.

Becky thought that they both had ample reason to want to get even with her. She inched into the shadows of a steel shuttered doorway and watched. The wind was blowing toward her and carrying their voices so she caught pieces of conversation.

"...Hey yer little cunt, you broke it. You're gonna pay for it!"

"But pimping me out on the fuckin' street!? You're a fuckin' evil bastard!"

"You offered to pay me in kind!"

"Yeah but... I thought, me an' you... You know..."

"I fuck you whenever I want anyway, so how is that payin' me back?"

The girl looked like she was going to start crying. The old man was barking at her, his face inches from hers, one hand at her throat. She was obviously scared stiff of him.

"Now. shut yer gob and find yersel' a knob t' gobble or somat."

He yanked at her top, buttons of her soft blue blouse popping and revealing the push-up bar accented cleavage beneath. The sudden, violent action made her jump.

"Yer've t'make me three 'undred 'fore morning' and yer not stoppin' or getting' high 'till yer do. So flash yer hot lil' tits and get some lads stuffin' yer cunt an' yer gob." He snarled, turning her around and abruptly slapping her hard on her taut young ass, which was blatantly on display under silvery, skin-tight cycling shorts. 

She yelped in response and then he shoved her on her perky ass, with a highly polished boot, toward the kerb and then slipped back into the shadows.

Becky followed his lead, keeping her distance and crossing to the other side of the road, keeping her head down and her pace fast. 

She could feel her heartbeat pummelling against her ribs, her eyes felt wide and bulging, there were shivers cascading through her limbs, she felt jittery, jumpy, animated, full of nervous energy. And all around her there seemed to be dangers.

She glanced down a side street that led toward the bus station and saw a gang of girls. 

One of them was an ex of Rochelle's who Becky had never really liked, she was part of a six strong gang of girls who had surrounded some tall lanky lad Becky didn't recognise, they were crowded around him snarling and spitting and cursing while they kicked at him and stamped on him.

She veered away, trying to hurry past the mouth of the side street while hoping none of the vicious, sadistic girls looked up and spotted her. And just as her hope formulated in her mind. It was dashed, two of them looked up and caught her looking, she baulked, almost staggered and the two girls, snarling drunkenly, their mouths flecked with spittle like rabid animals, came after her. 

But she was saved by a third. Well, by Parker really, the threat of Parker. The third called to her mates while Rochelle's ex knelt down to go through the pockets of the whimpering, broken limbed and blood-bubble blowing lad on the floor.

"Leave that bitch. She's Mad-Dog's, he'll kill yer kids if yer fuck with what's his." The third had said. 

Becky hurried on.

At first, she silently thanked Parker for his by-proxy protection. Then the deeper implications started to dawn on her and it intensified the dull, under-the-surface, feelings of terror that were smouldering under the calm, arrogant, defiant, surface.

It felt like a new realisation of Kasey Parker. His reputation, the fear of him that instilled a kind of pseudo-respect among, well, it seemed like everyone.

Mad-Dog Parker. The man who had repeatedly got away with murder. Rich, powerful and to be feared. Sadist. Took what he wanted. Used torture and rape as weapons in his drug wars. Used people as he pleased. He no respect or sympathy for anyone but himself.  

And now, at least people believed. Becky was his. His property. To do with as he pleased. 

She had to do something to free herself from him. She had to get protection from him. She had to find a way. And her mouth, tits, pussy and arse was all she had to offer.

She crossed the road again and this time stumbled onto the fate of another acquaintance.

Kelly Worth, who Becky had been forced to fuck, during that house party the night she'd stolen Barry Mather's guns, was in the middle of a crowd of West-Sider Oakfield lads.

She'd heard rumours about what had happened to Kelly after that party. And now she saw that it hadn't been exaggerated. 

The pretty and gentle, freshly confessed teenage lesbian had been selected by the West-Sider's as a pet project. They had decided to put her on the sexual 'straight-and-narrow' - through threats of beatings and group rape and gang bangs. She'd been dragged off to their gang safe house or whatever-they-called-it, and forced to become their fuck bunny. They'd chosen to 'fuck her straight', and it had lasted for weeks.