âSecond after second, my mind made sense of what I was seeing, and I realised that all she had on was a pair of black, lacy knickers, and leather, knee-high boots. I couldn't believe it. My eyes must have moved over her a dozen times. She had a lovely body.
âHer waist was so small that her hips looked broad but, really, she had quite a small bottom. It was just her pose that made it look bigger. Her bottom was all open, and her knickers were pulled up into the crack. I couldn't take my eyes off it.
âThen the bobbing of her head, and the noises she was making, made me look away from her behind, and I felt sick. Some guy was standing there with his cock in her mouth, and I could tell by the way she was acting that she was loving it. I wanted to run away, but I couldn't, and I had to look, over and over again, at what she was doing. This guy must have been at least forty, and she was only in her early twenties, but she was sucking his fucking cock like he was beautiful, or something. I couldn't believe she would do that with a man. Especially one who looked old enough to be her father.
âHis cock was this enormous, red-looking thing, and he was sliding it in and out of her mouth, right up to the hilt. I could hear her sucking and nearly gagging on it, and his voice saying horrible things to her.'
I thought Anne was going to stop there and, I confess, I didn't want her to. The story was making me feel really sexy, and I wanted to know what happened next.
âWhat was he saying? What kind of things, Anne?' I asked her.
She looked at me, and she knew what I was feeling. I could see she was amused at my reaction, even though what she had seen was obviously painful to her at the time. She must have decided something then, because when her story continued she made it more detailed, and exciting, than she had before.
âOh, the usual,' she said airily, âYou know: “Suck it, you dirty bitch. Suck my big cock.” That kind of thing. And Elizabeth did. I could see she was having trouble getting it into her throat, but he just kept shoving it into her mouth. I think he enjoyed seeing her struggle to get it all in. Her hair was short, too, so I could see everything. Her throat was stretched out, and her mouth was straining round the bastard's penis. Really stretched.
âHer chin was wet with spit, and her lipstick was all smeared over her cheek. I think he had been taking it out and rubbing it over her face, making her lick it. He kept saying, “Pretty little schoolteacher likes to suck a cock. A nice big one, isn't it? You are the best little cocksucker, Miss. Is this what you teach the girls, hm?”
âShe just kept groaning, and sucking his cock even harder, as if she was really enjoying what he was saying, and I hated her for it, so that after a while, some perverse part of me started to enjoy watching her doing it. After what seemed like ages, he pulled it completely out, and I was amazed, and a bit sickened, at the size of it. It pumped up and down in front of him, like a red club, and he twisted his hips to slap her face with it. She was sticking her tongue out and groaning, and he laughed at her. My beautiful Elizabeth, trying to suck some old guy's cock, while he made fun of her. I couldn't understand it.
âThen he started to tell her what he was going to do next, and I nearly fainted with the horrible thought of it. He told her to rub some spit in her arse, as he was going to fuck her there. I couldn't believe she would do it, but she did. Her free hand came up to her mouth, and she stuck three of her fingers in. She was acting like an animal, squirming and wriggling her backside. She didn't even wait to pull her knickers down, but just shoved her fingers under the bit that was covering her arsehole and started rubbing around under the cloth. All the while she was staring up at him, like he was some sort of god, and he just smiled at her, and rubbed his cock in her face, saying, “Does Miss want it up her arse? Does the sweet little schoolteacher like to have her arse fucked?”'
The words Anne was using were shocking and exciting to me, all at the same time. My sex was tingling, and for the first time in my life, I decided I was going to go with the feelings coursing through me. I wanted to rub myself, as Anne told me that marvellous story, and the thought was accepted by me as soon as it came into my mind. While I squirmed in my seat, Anne continued.
âShe seemed a bit frightened, but she still kept rubbing at herself, and I began to want to see it happen. I could feel my own bottom going heavy, and my sex was throbbing. I squeezed my legs together, and tightened all the muscles between my thighs to stop the feeling, but that only made it worse. I had understood by that time why she only used one hand, because I had seen the handcuff shining at her wrist. That made it all more terrible, and even more sexy. Even as I noticed it, the guy reached for the other cuff and unlocked it; then he forced Elizabeth's hand behind her back and snapped it shut again. She was forced to balance on her knees, and hold her back bowed upwards to keep her face off the mats, but he didn't want her like that. He walked casually behind her, and pulled her knickers over her hips. They were very tight, and he had to wriggle them down until they were stretched over her thighs. I strained to see her cunt, and wasn't disappointed, as he forced her head down and it bulged out towards me. She had a plump little thing with puffy lips, and I guessed that she had shaved some of the hair off them, because they were smooth and bare from behind, though a little bit of fuzz was peeping through from the front. He wasn't interested in it much, though I could have stared at it forever, and I ached to rub it, just like I ached to rub my own,'
We were both getting more than a little bit excited by the story, I could tell. Anne's eyes were slitted, and she squirmed a little as she spoke, while my sex felt like it had melted. I was so excited by the way Anne was speaking, that I couldn't stop myself any longer. Making sure Anne saw what I was doing, I kept hold of her hand with one of mine, and the other crept under the table to rub at the bulging of my own slit.
âThis is such a horny story, Anne. Don't stop, please,' I whispered, and watched as her own free hand dipped under the board out of sight. We both started to rub ourselves in time, as Anne began to speak again, and her voice cracked a little when she resumed.
âLike I said, I could tell she was a bit scared of what he was going to do, but I didn't care any more. I wanted him to do it to her. To punish her for not wanting me, and I wanted to see her arse opened, by this bastard who had made her suck his big, hot cock. Her face was turned towards me, and pressed against the mat, so I could see the apprehension growing when he gripped her tight little cheeks and pulled them apart. He grunted in some sort of approval at the sight of her little hole. I could see why. Her arse was so shoved up at him that, when he spread the cheeks, I could see everything too. Her anus was stretched by his fingers, but it still bulged out a little bit, and it glistened where her spit had gathered in the crinkling around it. He slapped her, hard, on one of her cheeks, and she cried out, into the rough fabric of the mat.
âSo he did it again, and I was glad, because she cried out even louder that time. Then he started to hiss filth at her, while she squirmed her open arse, the slutty bitch.
“Look at you, you dirty bitch. You love this. You want me to fuck your little arsehole, don't you?” he sneered, and she groaned a shaky yes into the mat. He kept it up, while his hands cruelly spread her cheeks so wide, that she started to beg him to put an end to it, and fuck her, fuck her, fuck her.
âBut he hadn't finished humiliating her yet, and he stepped back from behind her, with his hairy buttocks turned towards me. I was fascinated by them, even though they repulsed me too.
He bent away from her, and I caught a flash of her sweet cunt shining with excitement. I remember thinking what a slut she was, our prim and proper Miss, and I wished that it was me who was going to fuck her.
âThe man had picked up a piece of rounded wood, and I recognised it as a rounders bat. I thought he was going to stick it up her bottom, and the thought made me queasy, in a sexy sort of way. Instead, he rolled the thick end around the lips of her cunt, and she shifted her thighs to open herself for it.
âI wanted to wank myself by then, so I quickly lifted up the pleated front of my skirt, and shoved my hand down the front of my knickers. My cunt was soaking, and my fingers slid easily between the lips. I began to stroke myself, in time to the movement of the bat, and my stomach gave a lurch when he rolled his wrist and slid the end into my pretty teacher's pouting cunt. The groan she made stifled the sound of mine, and they carried on, oblivious to me. I was so turned on that I wouldn't have cared if they had seen me anyway. I watched in amazement as the thick wooden peg slid into her, and she arched her back to it. I could clearly see how stretched she was by the way her arsehole bulged at each outward stroke of the bat. I grew impatient to see him fuck her there. I wanted to see him open the bitch's arse while I watched, and if he didn't do it soon I was going to come without it happening to her.
âHe grunted again in approval, then slid the object rudely out of her. Her wet slit gaped, but he wasted no time on it. I saw him place the thick head of his cock at her bum, then press it hard against the opening by the pressure of a thumb behind his rosy knob. She squealed in alarm, trying to draw away from it, but he just gripped her more firmly and thrust with his hairy buttocks. His cock was so long that I could see the head disappearing into the crinkled ring, and heard her grunt of surprise when the first few inches slipped in.
âGod, how he fucked her. He was pitiless, and I delighted in what he was doing to her. Her arse was stretched wide by the reddened shaft, and she could do nothing but hold her hips rigid, while he slid it in and out of her arse. I watched her grimaces turn to slack-lipped ecstasy as the movement in her arse must have given her more intense pleasure. She came hard after only minutes of this rough bottom-fucking, and he slid straight out of her when his own turn came. I was close to the edge all through her buggering, but the sight of her open arsehole, and the jets of creamy sperm he spurted into the dark opening, sent me spinning.'
Anne and I were straining at our cunts while she spoke in ever more urgency and, even as this image was unfolding in my mind, the pent-up frustration boiled out in an orgasm of such unexpectedness and sheer beautiful pleasure that I actually howled with release. I rubbed furiously at my clit, and could say nothing but pant my approval as Anne struggled to a finish clearly as intense as mine. Her eyes were slitted shut, and she gasped out more short obscenities as vile as they were wonderful. It was the most extraordinary thing I had ever seen. Less than a foot away from me, a grown woman was masturbating to a climax in her kitchen, while I watched her do it. It was amazing.
Her shoulders shook, and her neat head nodded slowly forward in sharp jerks, until, with a groan from her pursed mouth, her forehead met the granite worktop in a gently pressured halt. I let her get her breath, and she eventually straightened up, only to bend again, convulsed with the same laughter that shook me. In between sobs of hysterical mirth, I asked her if it was true, which seemed to strike her as even funnier, and it was some time before she sobered enough to answer me.
âOh, yes,' she replied, âit's true, though I may have exaggerated the bit about the rounders bat. He didn't actually put it in. He just rolled it around her lips for a bit. Everything else was exactly how it happened, even the bit about what I did.'
âAnd did they see you?' I asked, and she swiftly replied.
âNo, I buggered off while they were still recovering. Then I ran to the woods near the school and cried for hours.'
I felt sorry for her, though she didn't look that upset at that moment. I suppose I was sympathising with the girl she had been. A girl who had deceived herself as much as I had. I felt compelled to ask, âDid anything ever come of it, then?'
She mused for a bit before replying, and I became aware that we were still holding hands at the same moment she did. We just looked at each other with a question in both of our gazes. She squeezed my hand a little, then said, âNot with her, sadly, but I still have dreams about that evening. Much the same as you, really. I hated the thought of that man doing things like that to her, and I hated even more the thought that she wanted to do them. The worst part of it is that, in my dreams, I am her.'
I was bemused.
âBut I thought you weren't interested in men?' I asked her, and she smiled knowingly, then explained to me the strangeness of her mind.
âI'm not,' she told me, âinterested in men in my conscious life, but there is a part of me that loves the idea of being forced to do what most women love to do. It makes it seem all right. Do you see?'
The truth was that I did see. If you are forced to do it, or if you can't help yourself, it makes it seem OK. When you are full of lust, you don't care what you do: just like when you are really hungry you will eat anything. The more wicked or perverse a thing is, the deeper you have to go to unlock it. I understand all this, with the benefit of hindsight, but at that time I was more innocent of the tricks a person's mind can play.
The kinkiness of what we had just done hit me then, and I stared at Anne in shocked surprise.
âI can't believe we just did that, Anne,' I gasped, and she squeezed my hand, before replying.
âI promised myself that I wouldn't try to seduce you, Jessica. Please don't think that's what is happening. You don't, do you?' she continued.
I sat in silence, while I gathered the courage to whisper to her, âYou can, if you want to. I don't mind.'
I squeezed my thighs together, to still their trembling, and felt the sharp throb of excitement in my lower tummy lurch upwards, into my chest. Anne stared and stared, her eyes darkening as the pupils dilated, until I found my own eyes misting at the edges of their focus, as I tried to read the thoughts that whirred behind those black mirrors.