by Ray Gordon
The front doorbell ringing, Will glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight. No one would call at that time, apart from Josie. As Lana sucked the last of his spunk from his aching knob, Will staggered back and flicked the switch. The thing still buzzing, he tried the switch again. "Fuck," he gasped, his knob swelling in preparation for another orgasm. Almost in pain, he fiddled with the plastic box as the doorbell rang out again. As a last resort, he sung the box by its wire and smashed it against the bar. The steel ring still buzzing wildly, he told the girls to keep quiet.
Slipping into the lounge, clutching the buzzing ring with both hands to quieten the device, he peered through the net curtains. He couldn't make out who the figure was lurking in the dark by the front door. The bell ringing again, he hoped his unwelcome visitor would give up and sod off.
"God," he breathed, his knob throbbing, his hands filling with spunk. "Ah, God." Staggering back, he flopped into an armchair and tried to yank the ring off his orgasming knob. Spunk flying everywhere, he stared wide eyed as a face pressed against the window glass. "Jesus," he whispered, his knob aching as the last of his sperm jetted from his slit. Was it Josie? "I'm fucking doomed."
Chapter Fourteen
Will shook his head despondently. "The culprit is despicable," he said, facing the Sunday congregation from the pulpit. "Sneaking around people's gardens, hiding in bushes, ringing doorbells late at night and peering through windows. We have a peeping tom in our village."
"We know that," someone sniggered from the back.
"Who said that?" Will asked angrily, gazing at the sea of faces. "That's typical. You all behave like schoolchildren. Sniggering, making silly remarks... OK, the sermon today concerns morals. We are all sinners."
"Speak for yourself."
"Whoever that is, shut the fuck up."
"You can't swear like that in church," Mrs Baxter gasped from the front row.
"Of course I can, it's my church. OK, morals. Or, I should say in most cases, immorals. You're all sinners."
"He can't say, immorals," Mrs Baxter muttered to the woman sitting beside her.
"He has no grasp of the English language whatsoever."
"I'll grasp you by the throat unless you shut your mouth," Will hissed. "If there's one more comment, one more interruption, you'll all stay behind after the service. Right, we'll get on. Sins of the flesh are rife in Cumsdale Village. Never have I seen such rifation."
"Um..."
"I've warned you, Mrs Baxter."
"Sorry."
"The orgasmic cries of teenage girls echo around the woods on a daily basis. No longer do we hear the songs of the birds, the rustling of the foliage in the summer breeze. All we hear are grunts and groans, the sound of flesh against flesh. Where are the sounds of leather against willow? As I've recently appointed myself Mayor of Cumsdale, I've drawn up some rules for the village. Rule one."
"You're not the Mayor," someone called.
"Yes, I am. Cumsdale needs someone at the helm. A man of God, a man of strength, morals, virtue, leadership... Rule one. Thou shalt not enter the woods without first purchasing a woods visitor's pass from me. The passes are five pounds each. Except for teenage girls who'll pay nothing. Rule two. Anyone wishing to fish in the lake will purchase a piss, piscitoral...Will purchase a fishing permit from me. Ten pounds each and I'm losing money."
"Permits are obtained from the river authority," PC Bridlington called.
"Not any more, they're not. Rule three. Licensing laws in Cumsdale are to be tightened. I will not tolerate heavy drinking. The pub will only be allowed to open between one and two in the afternoons and seven and eight in the evenings."
"You can't fucking do that!" Jack called. "I won't make any fucking money."
"PC Bridlington, arrest that man for language of the foulest. Rule four..."
Lurking in the shadows, the Reverend Mother and Father Kosher made notes of Will's sermon. Far from having given up, as Will had hoped, they were out with a vengeance to defrock him. When the Reverend Mother had received several phone calls from irate parents in response to the letters Will had sent, she'd become incensed, swearing to seek revenge on the man. Father Kosher had also had enough of Will's interfering ways, his threats to expose the cock sucking, the cunny licking, over the altar in his church.
"Right," the Mother Superior whispered. "We'll leave him to his ridiculous sermon and go and take a look around his house."
"Is that wise?" Father Kosher asked. "I mean, it's breaking and entering. It's burglary, it's housebreaking, it's..."
"It's a bloody good idea, Father. We'll gather all the information we can and compile a dossier on the evil man. We'll raid the place and check the computer for filth, gather photographic evidence of..."
"I don't think we should look for photographs," Father Kosher broke in with more than a hint of guilt in his voice.
"Why ever not? If we can get our hands on photographic evidence of debauchery most high, photographs of the sexual exploits that go on in the woods..."
"I'll check for photographs, Reverend Mother. You check the computer and I'll search for the photographs of Marianne and me in the church... I mean, Entercock in the woods with girls with beautifully firm, squeezable... I'll look for photographs."
"Good man. OK, let's go."
Leaving the church, the unlikely pair stole around the back of Will's house and slipped through the door into the kitchen. Lana and Lolita were in the bar, unaware as the intruders climbed the stairs and entered Will's office. Rummaging through drawers as the Reverend Mother switched the computer on, Father Kosher pulled out an envelope packed with photographs. One showed the Bishop with his knob embedded within Marianne's mouth, his spunk flowing down her chin and dripping onto her breasts. Another depicted the naked man on all fours, his buttocks projected as Marianne lashed him with a bamboo cane. Much to Kosher's relief, there were no pictures of his lewd exploits over the altar with Marianne.
"Look at this," the Mother Superior whispered, gazing at the computer screen. "This is his web site."
"Freshly-worn convent panties for sale," Kosher breathed, reading from the screen. "Well-juiced and wrapped in sealed plastic bags to preserve... To order online, click here. Shall we order a few pairs?"
"Father Kosher," the woman gasped. "We are not here to purchase disgusting items of undergarments. What on earth is the matter with you, man?"
"No, no. I mean, as evidence. Order a few pairs and..."
"Ah, I see what you mean. Yes, you're right. The knickers are bound to have name tags in them. It's a rule that all girls' clothing must be name tagged. Give me your credit card and I'll order a few pairs."
"I don't have a credit card."
"Why not? What's wrong with you?"
"My credit rating is not too good."
"Not too good? Are you a convicted thief?"
"No. It's just that I had a little trouble a year ago. You see, I was trying to get a credit card in another name and..."
"All right, I'll use my card. You carry on searching the office while I do this."
Searching the shelves while the Reverend Mother ordered half a dozen pairs of knickers, Father Kosher discovered a diary. Opening the leather-bound book he flicked through the thumbed pages and grinned. Names and addresses of girls, phone numbers, times and places, which girls were into what... Slipping the diary into the pocket of his cassock he decided to use the information for his own benefit, to satisfy his own sexual cravings. With a list of girls who were into kinky sexual practices he'd have the time of his life. He'd blackmail them, he decided. Threaten to expose their sexual exploits with Father Entercock unless they agreed to satisfy his own yearnings.
"Look at this," the Reverend Mother said, staring at the computer screen. "It's a list of all the convent girls who supply Entercock with used underwear."
"Good grief. What sort of place is the convent? To have that sort of thing going on is despicable. Whoever's in charge should be..."
"I'm i
n charge, you fool."
"Oh, er... So you are. It's a fine convent, Reverend Mother."
"Damned right, it is."
"I think you'd better print a copy of the list for me," Kosher said, mopping his brow with his handkerchief.
"Why do you want a copy?"
"Well, these girls are obviously promiscuous in the extreme. They have no morals. They must be wicked, hot, horny... I mean... I'll have to deal with them most severely for their wicked sins."
"If there's any dealing to be done, then I'll see to it."
"Yes, but I think you should let me have a copy of the list. For my files, so to speak."
"For your files?"
"Er... My file recording of the sexual behaviour of teenage girls."
"My God, look at this. The girls charge Entercock five pounds for a pair of dirty knickers. Look at the list of names. Marsha Cummings, Felicity Frigging-Bottom..."
"That's that tall blonde with the big... I mean... I wish I had a photographic memory."
"Why?"
"So I could take photographs. I really do think you should print a copy of the list, Reverend Mother."
"All right, but... What's this? My God. An e-mail has just arrived from Sister Uterinus. She wants to meet Entercock at the convent this evening."
"Why would she want to meet him?"
"It says here that she has information concerning the mother-fucking inferior slag-bag."
"The mother-fuck... Who on earth does she mean?"
"Me, you fool."
"Oh, I see. But I didn't realize you were a mother-fucking..."
"Right, that's it. I'll have her flogged for this. Let's get out of here. The service will be over soon and Entercock will be back."
Leaving the church after the service, Will waited until the congregation had dispersed before leading a dozen or more men back to the house. With Lana behind the bar and Lolita milling about in her microskirt, the men were in for a good afternoon. And Will was going to make a nice little profit. Entering the bar, Will stared wide-eyed at Lana and Lolita as they stood behind the bar grinning. Both topless, their breasts displayed, their nipples rising, they looked stunning.
"My God," the Major gasped, reaching over the bar and squeezing Lolita's left breast. "What a beautiful little pair of melons you have."
"Er... Don't touch," Will said as the men lined up and gawked at the girls' tits.
"Does that mean we can't suck their nipples?" the Major asked excitedly, his trousers bulging.
"No touching or sucking," Will said. "OK, all get your drinks and have a damned good afternoon."
"Will," Lana whispered. "There are two girls in the shed."
"Two girls in the shed?" Will echoed. "What are two girls doing in the shed? Are they burglars?"
"Of course they're not. They're waiting for customers. They're friends of mine and they need to earn some cash."
"Ah, I'm with you. They want to sell their bodies for sex and... By the way, it's not a shed, Lana."
"What is it, then?"
"The Devil's Den of Iniquity."
"It looks like a shed to me."
"Yes, it is a shad but... Oh, never mind. Right, I'd better have the girls. I mean, have a look at them. I wouldn't want to sell something without first establishing whether or not it's in proper working order. I'll be back shortly," he grinned, moving to the French doors. "In fact, I may be some time." I may be several hours.
Hovering outside the shed, Will couldn't believe how well Lana had done. She was a diamond, there was no doubt about it. The bar raking in the money, the fruit machine filling with cash... Again wondering what Josie would say when she returned, he kneeled on the ground and peered through the cock-hole he'd made in the shed door. God, he thought, eyeing two naked little beauties. It would be a shame to let the Major get his hands on the tart-whores. There again, the girls were there to earn Will money, and he couldn't allow his cock to rule his head. Of course, he was going to have to sample the goods before the punters were allowed anywhere near the shed... The Devil's Den of Iniquity.
Opening the door and slipping inside, Will grinned at the girls. They were fine specimens, he thought, gazing at their vaginal cracks as they lay with their limbs sprawled across the mattress. Their breasts were topped with suckable nipples, and Will knew he couldn't control his desires any longer. They needed a good breast spunking, a thorough anal shagging, an enforced vaginal fisting, a... Tugging his cassock over his head and tossing it to the floor, he stood before the whore-sluts with his erect penis waving from side to side, his full balls heaving within their hairy sac.
"I'm your boss," he said, gazing proudly at his cock. "I'm here to test you before allowing the punters to..."
"Test us?" the petite blonde frowned.
"Try you out," Will said, wanking his solid cock. "You know, make sure you fuck properly. OK, you can take turns to suck this."
"Twenty pounds," the dark-haired beauty said. "That's what we charge for a blowjob. Twenty pounds each."
"Hang on, hang on. I'm the bloody boss. I'm your pimp."
"We don't give a shit whether you're a pimp or a cunt. Twenty pounds each."
"Fucking hell," Will sighed. "So what will my cut be from the money you take from my customers?"
"Five percent."
"Fuck off. I'll tell you what I'll do. Eighty twenty, and I'm losing money."
"We take eighty percent? OK, that's cool."
"No, no, no. I take eighty percent and you get..."
"And we get the fuck out of here."
"Your refinement amazes me. Where were you thrown up, in a sewer?"
"Yes, as it happens."
"Hang on, hang on. I ought to charge you for sucking my cock. Fifty-fifty, or I'll set Satan on you."
"OK, it's a deal."
"Right, give me the blowjob of my life and then you can both get to work."
Looking down as the girls knelt before, their tongues licking his knob, Will knew that he was onto a good thing. The punters would queue up to hand over their cash in return for sex with two little tarts. The hole in the shed door was going to come into its own, and several cocks would come through it. Shuddering as one girl almost swallowed his bulbous knob and the other nibbled and licked his balls, Will noticed their shiny, well-groomed hair.
The girls were as common as muck. Foul-mouthed little tart-slags with creamy-wet sex slits and... But they were clean. Not for long, he thought, imagining his spunk starching the unblemished flesh of their naked bodies, raining over their little breasts, flowing in rivers along their vagina lips, streaming over their tightly-closed anal eyes.
"You're doing OK," Will breathed, his knob ballooning as the girls' tongues snaked over his saliva-wet sperm slit.
"You're big," the blonde grinned, licking beneath the rim of his purple crown. "We like big cocks."
"Are you into anal?"
"We're into anything and everything," the dark-haired girl replied, her wet tongue teasing his knob-slit.
Hearing movements outside the shed, Will gazed at the door. An erect penis sticking through the hole, he wondered who the owner was. Reckoning that Lana had told the punters about the girls, Will thought it was probably the Major's cock. The old man had been desperate to get his hands on a girl's naked body and was probably trying his luck with the cock-hole. The girls licking his balls, Will watched his erect cock twitching, his purple globe swelling, as his orgasm neared. The Major would have his turn, spunk in the girls' mouths, but Will's balls were in dire need of emptying first.
"Yes," he breathed as the blond engulfed his throbbing crown in her wet mouth. Her tongue snaked over his slit as the other girl licked his veined shaft, she moaned through her nose as spunk flooded her snaking tongue. Clinging to the girls' heads as his legs sagged, Will shuddered in his coming. On and on his spunk flowed, filling the girl-slut's mouth, running down his twitching shaft and coursing over his balls. Her friend lapped up the white liquid running over his scrotum as his balls drained.
They really were good cocksuckers, he mused, as their mouths and tongues sustained his shuddering orgasm. But he had no intention of paying them.
"That was something else," Will breathed as they sat back on their heels and licked their well-spunked lips. "Now you can suck the spunk out of that cock," he smiled, looking at the door.
"OK," the blonde grinned, moving to the door and taking the purple head of the massive cock into her spunked mouth.
"Right," Will murmured, dropping to his knees. "While she's busy, I'll examine your bottom-hole."
"What for?" the dark-haired tart frowned.
"Er... Company policy. Get on all fours and stick your bum out."
Parting her buttocks, Will eyes the small brown inlet to her bowels. Unable to resist temptation, he licked the length of her anal gully, teasing the sensitive tissue surrounding her rectal portal as she gasped and writhed. Low moans coming from outside the shed as the blonde sucked and licked the cock sticking through the hole, the shed really had become The Devil's Den of Iniquity. Things were going well, he thought, pushing the tip of his tongue into the tart's bottom-hole, teasing her inner rectal flesh. The money pouring in, the spunk pouring out...
"That one's done," the blonde grinned, licking her sperm-glossed lips as the deflating cock withdrew.
"Mmm, you taste nice," Will murmured, slurping at the other girl's bottom-hole. "But there's work to be done. I didn't get where I am today by licking girls' bottom-holes. Actually, I did."
"How many more cocks are there?" the dark-haired girl asked, reclining on the mattress.
"A dozen or so," Will replied, slipping into his cassock and heading for the door. "OK, I'll collect the cash for our client. Keep your eyes open for more cocks."
"And out mouths," the blonde giggled.
"Keep everything open. OK, I'll see you both later."
