by Amanda Gray
First HARDCORE EROTICA STORIES Printing July 2015
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure inventions of fiction.
Table of Content
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 1
It was late, coming up on closing time, and I was wiping glasses behind the bar and thinking about Kyle. Kyle was my boyfriend, and you’d struggle to find a wimpier or more pathetic example of humanity than he. He was soft, he was pathetic, and just lately it seemed as though he’d all but given up on our relationship. I sighed. Where had it all gone wrong?
I guess things hadn’t been too bad in the beginning. He and I had enjoyed a few months of okay sex. Sure, he hadn’t made me come even once during all that time, but I figured it would get better with time. Well, I’d been wrong. It didn’t get better. Matter of fact it got worse. Nowadays, on the rare occasions when he did try to get intimate with me, I’d generally pretend to be asleep. That’s how bored I was with the guy.
Maybe that’s why he cheated on me with that floozy from his office. Maybe that’s why my relationship was now well and truly circling the drain. Maybe. I blinked, and realised that I’d been polishing the glass in my hand for a good ten minutes now. I sighed, put it down with a sharp clack and turned my attention to the television up in the corner of the bar. Anything to distract me from Kyle.
The news was on. Some pretty blonde woman commenting on the latest celebrity scandal. I watched her with a distinct sense of envy. At one time in my life I’d been sure that was where I was headed. I had the looks for it with my neat brown hair and slender figure – and I loved being in front of the camera. Not only that, but I studied journalism at college as well. How on earth I ended up managing this run-down old bar I have no idea.
Watching the newsreader was just depressing me, so I flicked channels for a while. There wasn’t a single customer in the place to complain, and so I turned the sound up so I could hear. Cartoons. A black and white movie. Some kind of game-show. I settled on a documentary that looked kind of interesting, and watched for a while. They were interviewing women who had open and multiple relationships. One of them had three or four guys, all of whom were happy to be with her at the same time. One of them was even married to two different husbands. Hah. That was the way to go, of course. No jealousy. No cheating. You’d never get bored of that – the sex would be absolute dynamite!
I sighed. It wasn’t going to happen, of course. I loved the idea, but I knew I’d never be able to handle the reality. Things just never seemed to match up for me. I wanted excitement and variety, but what I got was a timid guy who’d rather cheat than fuck me. I wanted a bad boy, but all I got was a disappointing one. As I wandered across to the far side of the bar and started pulling the shutters a funny though occurred to me; maybe if I was with a dozen guys at once at least one of them might be able to get me off.
Well, maybe it wasn’t such a funny thought, but it made me laugh. And I was still half-laughing to myself as the door opened and three men came sauntering in. They were tall and well-built, all of them, each one dressed from head to toe in black bike leathers. The name of their gang – Ghost Riders – was emblazoned across the back of their leathers, along with a graphic of a flaming skull.
I sighed. “Sorry fellas, I’m just closing up,” I said.
The youngest one of them sized me up with a look. He was maybe a few years older than me, bristling with piercings, the thinnest of the three. He was fit though, I could tell that much. Matter of fact he was the kind of guy I’d probably go for, given the chance. In fact, on second look, they were all pretty easy on the eye. It wasn’t just the way they looked or the way they dressed (although the leather look definitely did something for me) – it was the way they carried themselves as well. They just seemed so... confident.
“Perfect,” said the thin one – the one I assumed must be their leader. “We’ll have a little drink while you shut up shop.”
I finished pulling the shutters. “I’d love to, guys, but I’ve already shut up the bar.”
CHAPTER 2
He smiled. “Well, I’m sure you can open it again for three paying customers like ourselves.”
This was typical. Barely a customer all evening, and then – just as I was about to shut up shop and head home – three turn up at once. I shrugged. “Sorry. I’m just about ready to head on home.”
One of the other three spoke up then – a burly one with a beard and big hands. He was a few years older than the others, but still damn attractive. I hadn’t really noticed him when they’d first made their appearance – I’d been too preoccupied talking to the thin one. I focussed on him now though, and found myself carried away on a sudden wave of fantasy. What would it be like, I wondered, to have him press me down onto my bed, to fuck me roughly while he held me with those powerful hands? Come to that, what would it be like to have all three of them at once? Now that really would be an experience.
I was so taken by my momentary daydream that I didn’t hear what the bearded one had said. “I’m sorry?” I said, but the three men were already sitting down, making themselves at home in the bar. In my bar. “Now look...” I began.
“Rum and coke,” said the one with the beard. The other two supplied their drinks orders as well, speaking as though they fully expected to be served.
“I’ve already told you that we’re closed,” I said. “Now are you going to pick yourselves up and leave, or do I have to get serious?”
The bikers looked me up and down once more, and this time I felt the combined intensity of their gaze. Something inside of me wavered. Usually I’m okay with confrontation – it’s a necessary skill to master when you run your own bar. But there was something about these guys that was just a little bit more intimidating that your average drunk. Not only that though, but there was a part of me that kind of wanted them to stay. There was a part of me that wanted to lock the door and drawer the shutters and join them at their table with a big bottle of spirits... who knew what might end up happening. Deep down – although I’d never have admitted it – part of me was excited.
“Well, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” said the bearded one. I stood my ground, staring the three of them down. He reached into his jacked and pulled out a wallet, then flicked a twenty in my direction. It fell to the floor. I could feel my legs turning to jelly, my belly afire with excitement. “Drinks,” said the bearded biker. “Now.”
I don’t know why I served them. There was something about the way he spoke to me – so direct and so forceful. It was a command. Not a request. And normally I don’t respond well to being told what to do – but something about these guys bypassed all the normal bits of my brain and spoke straight to my inner cavewoman. When he ordered me to fetch them their drinks just then... well, it turned me on – perhaps more than I’d been turned on in months.
I found myself turning around and making for the bar. It felt almost as though I was moving on automatic pilot – as though I was being driven by his will rather than my own. I fixed the drinks that they had ordered and put them on a tray. My hands were shaking as I did so, but I wasn’t shaking in fear. No. This was something else. Right then and there in that moment, I actually wanted them to boss me around – the bearded one in particular. I wanted nothing more than for him to give me orders – orders which I would obey without question. I would serve him, please him, bend to his will.
It was such an odd way to feel. And yet it didn’t feel wrong. Quite the contrary in fact. Images of the three bikers fucking me in various rough and ready ways kept flashing through my brain. The more I tried to dismiss them, the stronger the images became. It felt as though some
kind of crazy switch had been flipped in my head. By the time I’d finished fixing their drinks and carried the tray over to their table, I could feel that I was wet between my legs.
It had been weeks at the very least since Kyle last made me wet. Matter of fact I’d almost forgotten what the sensation was like. It felt good – tingly and right and fresh. It felt as though parts of me that had long since fallen to sleep were being wakened once more.
As I approached I could hear them talking about their bikes. One of them was broken, I gathered – the started had burned out... or something of that ilk. I set the tray down on the table, and took a step back, then waited. It wasn’t more than a couple of seconds before their attention turned to me once more.
“Thanks, Doll,” said the bearded one as he picked up his drink. “Thought you had work to do? Or are you going to stand there staring until I let you suck my cock?” He turned towards me and spread his legs. I held my ground, but part of me was quavering – I wasn’t sure whether it was with fear or excitement.
“You finish your drinks and then you leave,” I said.
The thin one laughed, and the other biker – a muscle-bound guy with bright red scarf around his neck – shook his head in amusement.
“I have a better idea,” said the bearded one. “How about you take off that cute little apron of yours, bend over that bar and let us fill you up, one by one?”
CHAPTER 3
All three roared with laughter. And I didn’t move. I was definitely aroused now – more aroused than I had been in years. Part of me, deep down, wanted nothing more than to do as the man suggested. To bend over, bare myself, let them have their way with me. But I knew I couldn’t. That would be crazy, insane. I didn’t even know them... There was no way to know what I’d be letting myself in for.
“No?” said the bearded guy, catching my expression. “Huh. Maybe you’re more of an oral chick. Is that right? You want us to give you something to swallow? I reckon you could manage a load from all three of us, don’t you?”
I stood there, frozen, not knowing what to say. Normally I’m never stuck for words, but right in that moment they simply wouldn’t come. I stood there, shaking. Part of me was simply waiting to see what would happen next. I put my hands behind my back to stop them from shaking, and I felt there the knot of my apron. Without even really thinking about it, I undid it, and then lifted the thing off over my head and draped it over the back of a nearby chair.
That stopped the bikers laughing. They stared at me, surprise registering on their faces. The thin one with all the piercings was the first to recover. He laughed openly.
“Well, lads, I think she’s up for it.” He stood and beckoned to me.
“Bring that tight little body of yours over here.”
For a moment there was resistance. I felt it almost like a physical thing, holding me back. Worried thoughts swirled around my brain. This was crazy, I told myself. This was irresponsible. There was no way I was actually going to go through with this. No way in hell. But then, after a moment, the resistance broke. I wanted this. I could feel the urgency with which I wanted it welling up inside me. And, in a second, that urgency overtook my last few shreds of doubt. Before I knew what was going on I was taking a step forward, then another, then another, until I stood before the three bikers. They had risen from their chairs, and they towered over me now.
The thin one leaned forwards. It was a conscious effort not to lean back out of his space. He brought his face close to mine, then his hand flashed up to the back of my neck, grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me into a forceful, deep, probing kiss. I felt his tongue exploring my mouth, penetrating me there, claiming me. I kissed back with all that I had, my body feeling as though it was melting in his grip.
He pulled back. And then, as though some signal had been given, the bikers fell on me. Their hands were all over my body, ripping away my clothes. In a second I was down to my underwear. On instinct I wriggled, fought, tried to preserve my dignity, but it was no good. They had me. My panties were ripped away, and my bra wrestled from my chest. The bearded one pinned my arms behind my back, while the muscle-bound one sucked on my breasts. The thin one was biting my neck, inhaling deeply, taking in the smell of my hair and my body.
In less than a minute I had gone from fully clothed to naked and being groped by three men. It felt surreal. It felt as though I had left the ground and was flying. If this could happen, then anything could happen. I felt myself open. The wetness between my legs increased until it felt like a flow. And I let go. I let them have me. I let them take me.
Before I knew it I was being pushed back. My backside hit the edge of a table and I found myself sitting down on it, the wood cold against my bare flesh. Hands pushed me back until I was lying across the table. Towering above me, the bikers were shedding their clothes now, peeling away their leathers. Beneath they were tanned and muscular, hardened by years of riding. The tall one with the piercings grabbed my legs and positioned himself between them, his long, hard cock lying against my stomach. My pussy tingled at the heat of him, so close and so ready. It wouldn’t take much for him to slip inside me...
“Jerk me, bitch,” he hissed, and I hurried to comply, reaching down to wrap my fist around his cock. I started masturbating him, rolling my hand with each pull, relishing the firm, heavy feeling of his cock. It would be so good to have it inside of me, so good to clench down against it.
The bearded biker took up a place beside me, and grabbed my free hand. He wrapped it forcefully around his own cock and I started jerking that too. The muscle-bound one moved up to my head. The back of my neck was against the rim of the table. He took my head in both hands, tilted it backwards a little and then – without any preamble – plunged his cock straight into my mouth.
I squeaked in surprise, but couldn’t protest. Instead I simply gripped him with my lips and swirled my tongue around his head. He pushed deeper and I swallowed, fighting my gag reflex. Meanwhile, I felt the thin one between my legs draw back a little and then plunge inside of me. He went deep, hard. I felt him all the way up in my stomach, and shivers of pleasure echoed through my body.
Then they were fucking me. The thin one in my pussy, the muscle-bound one in my mouth. I jerked the bearded one as best I could, but it was hard to focus. The two others were thrusting hard, fast. I almost gagged a couple of times – and to my surprise I actually liked it. In that moment I wanted nothing more than for the muscle-bound biker to force his way into my throat. It would feel so good to be dominated like that, to be owned by him, used by him. Hell, by all three of them.
The bearded one came first, spraying his hot come all over me. I felt it spatter against my chest, hot droplets coursing down between my breasts. Then, a second later, pain as he slapped first one breast, then the other. The skin stung – his come cooling against it.
“Turn her over, lads,” said one of them. I wasn’t sure who had given the instruction, but it was followed pretty quickly. The two bikers inside of me withdrew, and hands seized me. One in my hair, one on my shoulder, a couple on my hips. They rolled me roughly over until I was bend over the table rather than lying on it. A pair of hands clamped down over my wrists, pinning me in place. Then the bearded one was behind me. He lowered himself to his knees and started licking me, his beard ticking the insides of my thighs, his tongue playing with my clit, his hot breath rebounding off my asshole. I moaned in pleasure, struggling against the hands that held me. They were firm, and it filled me with a deep, dark pleasure to know that I couldn’t escape.
CHAPTER 4
It was the thin one who was pinning me down. I know because a second later he let me up just long enough to seat himself on the table, before clamping my wrists down against the wood once more. My mouth was now only inches from his cock. On instinct I opened my mouth, and he pushed my head down into his lap firmly and fast. His rod parted my jaws and licked and sucked just as I had done before, quivering with desire.
He was the next to
come. I felt him hardening in my mouth for a second before his cock started spilling out his come. It came in hot, thick spurts which filled my mouth completely. I tried to pull back a little to make it easier to swallow, but his hand was on the back of my head, pushing me down still. I couldn’t move. I swallowed furiously, taking as much of his salty load as I could, but some still dribbled out the corners of my mouth.
Just as he came in my mouth, I felt the bearded guy’s tongue move a little higher, teasing wetly at my asshole. It was something I’d never experienced before, but it felt better than I ever could have anticipated. I pushed back as I swallowed, loving the sensation, the dirtiness of it, the wrongness. He gripped my hips firmly and licked and tongued and feasted on me. I felt myself cresting, moving unstoppably towards shuddering climax.
The thin guy grabbed my hair and wrenched my face up. There was come dribbling down my chin, come still clinging to my tongue. He slapped me roughly around the face, once then twice. It took my breath away, and In heard myself gasp in shock. Then he slipped out from under me and the muscle-bound one took his place. Once more my head was forced down, and a cock was between my lips. I sucked and licked, moaning with pleasure. I belonged to them. I was their toy to be used as they wished.
Instead of forcing my head down, the muscle-bound guy grabbed my hair and started ragging me up and down, his cock firmly in my mouth all the while. I braced myself against the table, but he was strong and there was nothing I could do to resist. His cock went deep into my throat, and I swallowed, taking it in. Then it was wrenched out. He rubbed it against my cheeks, spreading his juices there, then plunged it back in.
