Lust Call (19 page)

As my orgasm approached, my thoughts centred on my trembling body. My vaginal muscles tightened further, and the banana became increasingly difficult to move. The phallus finally seized solid within my restricted vaginal cylinder, and the fruit was crushed to a pulp by my hungry cunt as my orgasm erupted within my beautiful clitoris. A spurt of hot urine bathed my hand as I vibrated my fingertips over the sensitive tip of my pleasure bud, and I let out a cry loud enough to be heard by the neighbours.

My orgasm went on and on, peaking every now and then and rocking my feverish body. Never had I known such a fantastic climax. The deeper I sank into the mire of crude sex, my orgasms were gaining strength and lasting longer. I was sure that I'd reach the stage where my orgasms would last for several minutes, and I'd pass out with the immense pleasure. How many times could I come in one day, I mused in my sexual frenzy as my sex milk spewed from my tight cunt. Ten, twelve . . . Or more?

Finally coming down from my sexual heaven, I lay quivering and gasping on the sofa. My vaginal muscles spasmed, as if eating the pulped banana. My thighs twitched, my sated body convulsed, and I felt as though I'd taken some kind of magical tonic. I was rediscovering my early days of crude sex and wanton masturbation, I reflected happily. I'd not lost my touch, or the pleasure derivable from my tight little pussy and my beautiful clitoris.

Scooping the mashed banana out of my steaming vagina, I ate the hot, creamy fruit. I could taste spunk
blended with the banana, and my own juices of orgasm, as I sucked my fingers clean before scooping out another helping. Opening my blouse, I smeared the creamy pulp over my breasts and then sucked on each erect nipple in turn. Never had I felt so sexually alive as I bit gently on my sensitive nipples. Never had I found such sexual gratification from my young body.

The cream cocktail was oozing from the gaping hole of my well-fed cunt and running down between my naked buttocks. I reached beneath my thigh and teased the sensitive tissue of my tight anus with my fingertip. I'd never paid attention to my bottom-hole. Even during the height of my sexual experimentation in my early days, I'd never thought about let alone touched my anus. My fingertip slipped into my once sacrosanct hole, and I let out a rush of breath. Teasing the sensitive nerve endings there, I closed my eyes and pushed my finger deeper into the dank heat of my anal duct.

Quivering, gasping, I could hardly believe the heavenly sensations as I wiggled and twisted my finger within my secret sheath. Massaging my hot inner flesh, I managed to slip a second finger into the yielding tube of my rectum. Massaging the solid tip of my sensitive clitoris with my free hand, I felt my anal duct tighten as my arousal soared. I needed more hands, I thought as I neared my second climax. More hands, more fingers . . . I needed two men.

My orgasm erupted again, my clitoris pulsated wildly and my vagina spewed out the remains of the pulped banana as I cried out in the grip of sheer sexual ecstasy. Another spurt of hot urine bathed my hands as I imagined sucking on a throbbing knob and swallowing fresh spunk as I rode the crest of my
climax. I was a nymphomaniac, I thought, my half-naked body again convulsing violently. I could hear the phone ringing through the swirling mist of my blown mind. But I didn't want to speak to Dave, I didn't need Dave any more.

‘God,' I breathed, beginning to drift down slowly from my sexual elation. I'd wet the sofa, my vagina was on fire, my inflamed rectal duct was spasming . . . Unable to move for several minutes, I finally slipped my fingers out of my sore bottom-hole and lay quivering on the sofa. Panting for breath, I felt drunk on sex, dizzy in the aftermath of my rectal pleasure. Completely exhausted, I drifted off to sleep and dreamed my dreams of two men attending my feminine needs, two cocks fucking me senseless and drowning me in spunk.

Coming to as the phone rang, I checked the time. I must have been out for half an hour, I thought, leaping up from the sofa and dashing into the lounge. Barry would be back by now, I thought, wondering whether I was in a fit condition to take his cock. How much sex and how many orgasms could I take in one day? Flopping into the armchair and grabbing the receiver, I hoped that this wasn't Dave. My thighs were sticky, my anal hole sore, my blouse hanging open, my long blonde hair dishevelled . . .

‘It's only me,' Dave said. ‘I'm going to be late home this evening.'

‘Oh, OK,' I murmured. ‘What time?'

‘I don't know. Around eight, I reckon. I have a client to see about a shoot. If this one works out, it'll open the door to more work. I'll tell you about it later.'

‘That sounds good, Dave,' I trilled, trying to sound excited. ‘You're doing well.'

‘Yes, it's going very well. By the way, when I had
a shower this morning, I noticed that we're almost out of shampoo. Have you been shopping yet?'

‘Er . . . No, I . . .'

‘And the milk has gone off. I don't know how long it's been in the fridge but . . .'

‘It was fine in my coffee earlier.'

‘I had cereal, and it tasted off to me.'

‘OK, I'll get some more.'

‘Great. What's for dinner tonight?'

‘I don't know yet. I'll sort something out.'

‘OK, I'll see you later.'

Hanging up, I realised that I'd not been shopping for days. The fridge was as good as empty and there was nothing in the freezer. The last thing I needed was to drag myself around the supermarket when I was looking forward to fucking Barry at the end of the garden. Looking around the lounge, I bit my lip and sighed. I'd not vacuumed or dusted for over a week. The washing was piling up, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd have to make an effort, I mused dolefully. If I didn't, then Dave would become suspicious. Tomorrow, I decided, heading for the patio. I'd do the shopping and housework tomorrow.

I was going to have to get my act together, I knew as I stepped out on to the patio. I needed time to spend in the house, and time to fuck in the woods and the garden. Work and pleasure don't mix, I reflected. Ambling across the lawn with the sun warming my back, I again wondered how Keith had got into the garden. He'd either come in from Barry's side, or Rob's side, I mused as I neared the fence.

‘You want more?' I said with a giggle, walking into the bushes as I heard a tapping sound.

‘Have you seen the hole?' he whispered.

‘No, I haven't.' Looking down, I saw that the hole
was now about six inches across. ‘Why have you done that?' I asked him.

‘Put your hand through the hole and you'll find out.'

Tentatively slipping my hand through the hole, I felt naked flesh. I assumed that Keith wanted me to wank him as I moved my hand up and groped about for his solid cock. He must have some sort of fetish about using the hole, I thought as I groped about. Strangely, his inner thighs felt soft and smooth. Frowning, I couldn't make out which part of his body I was touching until I moved further up. Retracting my hand, I gasped. He wanted me to touch a girl? I'd felt pussy lips, a girl's crack . . . My mind filling with a thousand thoughts, I couldn't believe this.

‘Finger her,' he instructed me. ‘Finger her wet cunt.'

‘No,' I gasped. ‘I won't.'

‘Do it, Sarah. You wouldn't want Dave to see the photographs, would you?'

‘You can't make me touch . . . I'm not going to touch another girl. After meeting in the woods, I thought . . .'

‘The choice is yours, Sarah. Finger the girl, or else.'

Swamped by confusion, I not only wondered who the girl was but why the hell was Keith doing this? More threats over the photographs? Surely that had come to an end now that we'd met in the woods and . . . But, we hadn't met, the thought suddenly struck me. The man behind the fence wasn't Keith. He again ordered me to finger the girl's cunt and threatened to send the photographs to Dave if I didn't do as I was told. This was a bloody nightmare. What choice did I have?

Kneeling on the ground and slipping my hand
through the hole, I ran my fingers up the girl's inner thighs to her sex crack. Her outer lips were smooth and soft, devoid of hairs. Slipping my middle finger between her inner lips, I pushed into the wet heat of her tight vagina. I'd never dreamed of touching another girl. The very idea of lesbianism had always revolted me, but now I had no choice. She was very wet, creamy-wet and hot, and I knew that she'd want to slip her hand through the hole and finger me.

My thoughts turning to Rob, I wondered whether he'd slipped into the alleyway with his daughter. I didn't know them that well, but I couldn't imagine Rachel getting involved in something like this. No man would involve his teenage daughter in blackmail and crude lesbian sex, would he? Recalling the day when two men had been behind the fence, I wondered who the hell these people were. Barry, Derek, Keith . . . And some unknown man with a girl. What the hell was going on, I wondered as the man ordered me to drive two fingers into the girl's tightening vagina. How many more people were waiting to have sex with me?

The girl gyrated her hips, gasping and whimpering softly behind the fence as I drove a second finger deep into her tight pussy and massaged her wet inner flesh. I could feel her hand above mine, and I knew that she was caressing her clitoris as her gasps became louder and her sex milk flowed over my fingers. How old was she? Was she my blackmailer's wife? This wasn't Rachel, surely?

My finger slipped out of her hot vagina as she moved back. I retrieved my hand and looked through the hole in the fence. I could see her slender thighs, the hairless lips of her pussy, but I couldn't see her face. As she peeled her vaginal lips apart and pressed her wet flesh against the hole, I gazed wide-eyed at
the solid protrusion of her pink clitoris. I'd never seen another girl's pussy, let alone as close as this. With her inner lips stretched wide open, the pink flesh surrounding her erect clitoris was creamy-wet, glistening in the light.

As the man ordered me to lick her cunt, I stared at the gaping entrance to her wet vagina and held my hand to my mouth. I couldn't lick another woman. What the hell did he think I was? I wasn't a lesbian, I thought anxiously as a globule of opaque fluid trickled from her open sex hole. I was a nymphomaniac, but I wasn't a lesbian. There was no way I was going to . . .

‘Do it,' the man said softly. ‘She needs to come. Lick and suck her clitoris.'

‘I'm not a bloody lesbian,' I returned.

‘Think about the photographs, Sarah.'

I had no choice, I knew as I imagined Dave gazing at the photographic evidence of my adulterous debauchery. Moving forward, I pushed my tongue out and tentatively licked the swollen tip of the girl's solid clitoris. She tasted salty, not at all unpleasant. Pressing my full lips to the pink flesh surrounding her clitoris, I sucked gently and repeatedly swept my tongue over her pleasure bud. She gasped and forced herself harder against the fence as I worked on the sensitive bulb of her clitoris. She was going to reach her orgasm quickly, I knew as my own juices of arousal seeped between the swelling petals of my inner lips. I wasn't enjoying the lesbian coupling, I tried to convince myself as my clitoris swelled and called for my intimate attention. I wasn't a lesbian, I was being blackmailed into lesbian sex.

The girl cried out as her orgasm came. Her vagina pumped out her sex milk, and she breathed her crude words of lesbian sex.
I want you, I want your body, I
want your sweet cunt
. . . Did I recognise her voice, I mused as I sucked on her pulsating clitoris. She sounded young. With her orgasmic milk splattering my chin as I sucked on her pulsating clitoris, I reckoned that she was in her teens. Her vagina had been very tight, I thought as she again breathed her words of lesbian sex.
Sarah, I want you. I want your cunt, I want your clitoris in my mouth
.

Sucking the last ripples of her orgasm from her pulsing clitoris, I licked my girl-wet lips as she finally moved away. Again, I spied through the hole in the fence but I could only see the girl's milk-wet naked thighs. Just one glimpse of her face was all I needed, I thought, but I could see no higher that the smooth plateau of her stomach. The taste of female sex milk lingering on my tongue, I tried to deny the immense pleasure I'd derived from the lesbian coupling. I was heterosexual, I reflected. Never had I dreamed that I'd lick another girl's open sex valley and suck a swollen clitoris to orgasm. What was happening to me?

Following my blackmailer's orders, I climbed to my feet and lifted my short skirt up over my stomach. Pressing my vaginal crack against the hole, I knew that the girl was going to lick me as fingers peeled my hairless outer lips wide apart. My clitoris was solid, my juices of desire seeping from my sex sheath. This was a first, I thought apprehensively as I felt a wet tongue sweep over the sensitive tip of my clitoris. The first time I'd ever had oral sex with another girl.

My arousal soaring, I began to tremble as she sucked my erect clitoris into her hot mouth. I instinctively knew that this was a female mouth, a female tongue, attending my most feminine needs. There was a subtle difference, I mused. Soft, gentle, loving . . . Her tongue lapped at my open sex hole,
repeatedly moving up and snaking over the tip of my sensitive clitoris. She certainly knew how to please a girl. But I wasn't a lesbian, I again tried to convince myself. I wasn't enjoying this, I didn't want this, I was heterosexual, I was being forced . . .

‘Yes,' I breathed, my legs sagging beneath my trembling body as my orgasm erupted within the swollen bulb of my pulsating clitoris. My face pressed against the fence, my breathing fast and shallow, I whimpered helplessly as the unseen girl sustained my incredible pleasure with her hot mouth and wet tongue. I wasn't a lesbian, but . . . No man had been this good, I reflected. Maybe only a girl knew how to pleasure another girl.

I could hear Barry calling me from his garden. He'd be leaning on the fence, looking for me, wanting me, craving my cunt. My orgasm receded as my mind flooded with worrying thoughts of lesbian sex, and I imagined Barry catching me with another girl. What the hell had I become, I wondered apprehensively as the girl mouthed and sucked on my deflating clitoris. I was enjoying oral sex with a female and . . . I couldn't go down that road. No matter how much pleasure the girl's tongue had brought me, I couldn't indulge in lesbian sex.