Tie and Tease

by Penny Birch

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘that isn’t the point at all. I’ll do it when I enjoy it, not otherwise.’

  Again he said nothing, but spread out the notes and placed a further twenty on the table.

  ‘Look, really . . .’

  ‘Everyone has their price, Penny. Let’s see what yours is. A thousand?’

  ‘No, seriously . . .’

  ‘Two thousand, that’s this whole bundle and I bet it’s more than you see in a month, two months even.’

  ‘Honestly, I don’t want any money.’

  ‘I’ll write a cheque then. Ten thousand to smack your friend’s lily-white arse?’

  ‘No. I mean it. I’d rather be forced than paid. Look, I think we had better leave.’

  He had been reaching into his jacket, his cheque book half out of an inside pocket. As we rose he put it back.

  ‘Sit down. Relax,’ he ordered. ‘OK, I believe you. Now do you know something?’

  ‘If I’d taken the money you’d have refused to let Amy publish?’

  ‘You are bright. Innocent though. I’d have watched Wendy get her smacking then thrown you out. No money. So, I’ll probably let MacRae go with it, and maybe you’ve learned a lesson. Certainly Cheryl has, eh, dear? So, the woman doesn’t exist who won’t take my money?’

  Cheryl shrugged and smiled, the first friendly gesture she’d made. That was it, no lunch, no being obliged to perform lewd acts for his amusement, just the embarrassment of showing my bruised bottom to them. That, and of course victory, or at least probable victory, and as we drove away it was impossible not to feel triumphant.

  Despite that the visit to Mintower had left a bad taste in my mouth. There was frustration too, having worked myself up to expect something naughty. Also I felt a strong need to reaffirm my sexuality, just as I had after my initial misadventure with Beth. Wendy agreed, suggesting we should find somewhere safe for a cuddle in the back of the car.

  We were driving through farmland, with a grey sky overhead and rain hanging from the clouds on the horizon. On a hot, sunny day I would have wanted to find some quiet spot in the woods and strip off for sex in the open. Being naked outdoors gives such a wonderful thrill, but as it was the weather was simply not on our side. It was going to be in the car then, which would be nicely smutty, if only we could find somewhere safe.

  As we drove we began to talk about Tom, the dirty old man I had allowed to have me in Brittany the year before, believing him to have been sent by Amber. He’d not only fucked me, but pissed on me afterwards in what I’d taken for a gesture of dominance but may have been contempt. Remembering the episode brought a blush to my cheeks and a warm flush between my thighs. I wanted cock, and to be taken by some earthy, sex-driven man to whom I represented sex, nothing more and nothing less.

  We began to joke about it, stopping some man and propositioning him, then perhaps sucking him off together. Wendy wanted to be made to pose, showing her bum and boobs while I sucked. That seemed unfair to me, as I would end with the mouthful of come. I said she should bring him off between her ample boobs and I’d lick them clean and kiss her while he watched, which set her giggling.

  With no hurry, we drove north, talking of muscular farm boys in tractors and road-menders with their big, hard hands and the smell of tar on their clothes. When I actually pulled off, it was not in the hope of sex, but because we were hungry. I had hoped for a decent country pub, but Wendy didn’t want to wait, so we pulled over by a tiny roadside café. This was little more than a shack, run-down and seedy, with a leering man serving greasy burgers and watery tea. We bought bacon sandwiches and coffee and took them back to the car to eat.

  ‘He should do you,’ Wendy joked as she put her mug on the dashboard. ‘A dirty old man if ever I saw one. I bet his cock tastes of bacon grease and ketchup.’

  ‘I’m trying to eat, Wendy!’

  ‘That’s funny, coming from a girl I remember eating an apple tart a man had just come over.’

  ‘You watched!’

  ‘I love watching you do dirty things. Come on, go and tell him you’ll suck his cock if you don’t have to pay for the sandwiches.’

  ‘I already paid. You should go anyway, it’s more your thing. Think of it, kneeling behind that counter, nude, with his erection in your mouth, your bum and boobs all greasy from where he’s pawed you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare; I just haven’t got your courage.’

  ‘You admit you’d like it then?’

  ‘Maybe, but I just couldn’t.’

  ‘Don’t ask straight out then. Flirt a little. Say you’d like another sandwich but you can’t pay. See what he says. Come on, I’ll go with you.’

  She would never have done it on her own, and it wasn’t easy for me. Propositioning men never is, and it’s not something I do often, but now was an exception: I just felt too dirty to let it go. I got out of the car as soon as I’d finished my sandwich, and teased Wendy until she got out too. The man was leaning out of the service hatch, watching us with no more than casual interest and he doubtless thought we were just coming to bring the coffee mugs back.

  I don’t think I could have done it alone, and I nearly backed out anyway, thanking him and passing the mugs up. Wendy would have teased me and I’d have felt pathetic, as I always do when I want something but don’t have the courage to see it through. Another thing was that I felt really insulted by Mintower’s offer of money, even though I’d turned it down. Sucking cock in return for a greasy bacon sandwich would be just the thing to make a mockery of his horrid, mercenary philosophy. So I swallowed the lump in my throat, pretended to look at a pattern of petrol colours in a puddle and turned back to him.

  ‘We were wondering if we might have another sandwich each?’ I asked in my best little-girl-lost voice.

  ‘Sure, hen,’ he answered. ‘Bacon?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ I went on, ‘but the thing is, you see, and I know this sounds silly, but we’ve no money left.’

  ‘No money left?’

  ‘Well, about ten pence.’

  ‘Ten pence?’

  ‘I know, just enough for a slice of bread, but I’d really like that sandwich, I mean a lot. Maybe we could help you in some way.’

  That was supposed to be the line he seized on, leering and making some lewd proposition. I’d have pretended to be shocked, protested a bit, then done it, which would have made it all the nicer for him. Unfortunately he was either dense or completely innocent.

  ‘I can wash up myself, thanks, hen.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘Not really, no.’

  It was hopeless. With the blood burning in my cheeks I made a quick check up and down the road and turned back.

  ‘Look, in return for a sandwich each my friend and I will suck you off. All right?’

  ‘Two posh tarts like you, suck me for a sandwich?’

  ‘Yes. Seriously.’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘No, I mean it, you can even come in my mouth.’

  He glanced around and ducked back inside his shack to push the side door open. I took Wendy’s hand and led her after me, up the wooden steps and into the inside, which was full of steam and the smell of his cooking. He was working on the catches that held the front shutter up, fumbling in his haste.

  ‘This’d better not be a joke,’ he told us.

  I shook my head. I was trembling slightly but eager, just in the mood for what I had promised to do. Wendy had bolted the door behind us, sealing us in with a man who expected his cock sucked by us, maybe more.

  ‘How about getting your knockers out?’ he said. ‘I like a bit of topless.’

  Wendy and I exchanged glances. Topless was out in my long dress, besides which it looked as if I might have to kneel on the floor.

  ‘Would you do my zip?’ I asked and turned my back to Wendy.

  I felt the zip drawn down and the air on my bare back. Reaching down for the hem, I pulled the dress high, showing off my French knickers and bra. He licked his lips
at the sight, although I could still see uncertainty in his eyes. I met his look, reached my hands behind my back and unclipped my bra, letting it fall from my breasts.

  ‘There we are,’ I said. ‘As you wanted it, topless.’

  ‘Nice,’ he drawled, ‘nice knicks too.’

  ‘They stay on,’ I told him, mainly in the hope of exactly the opposite. ‘Look, if I’m going to suck you, shouldn’t we at least be introduced?’

  ‘Introduced,’ he repeated, exaggerating my pronunciation. ‘Posh little tart, aren’t you? You do this a lot, I’ll bet, offering blow-jobs to blokes in transport cafes and such. Get off on a bit of rough, do you?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Fair enough, just keep your eyes off the till. I’m Joe.’

  ‘Penny. This is Wendy.’

  ‘Well, how about you get your knockers out, too, Wendy? You look like you’ve got a big pair.’

  ‘I’ll take my jumper off,’ Wendy answered. ‘Not my bra.’

  She suited action to word, peeling her heavy jumper off over her head to reveal the plump globes of her boobs in a plain white bra.

  ‘Christ, they are big ones,’ Joe said. ‘You wouldn’t put them round my prick, would you? The wife’s are like that, big and fat.’

  ‘You’re a dirty old man,’ Wendy answered.

  ‘That’s good, coming from some posh tart who wanted my cock in her mouth. Come on, down you go, on your knees.’

  There was only one chair and he had sat down in it before we could argue, spreading his thighs to stretch out the crotch of his trousers. I did as I was told, kneeling on the dirty floor, acutely aware of being naked but for shoes, socks and panties. Wendy followed me down, squeezing next to me in the space between his knees. Joe pulled up his coat and undid a button, then put his hands to his fly. I could see his cock bulging in his trousers and it looked quite big, either that or already half-stiff.

  He pulled it free, flopping his balls into a tuck of his underpants to let his cock loll out to one side. It was large, if not huge, with dark, wrinkled skin and a heavy foreskin from which the tip had just began to peep. I can never be indifferent to the sight of a man’s cock, which I find both obscenely ugly and utterly compelling. Joe was no exception, and even as I caught the scent of man mingling with the bacon and cooking fat I knew I was going to enjoy sucking him enormously.

  ‘Big, aren’t I?’ Joe announced. ‘I bet you don’t get many like that with your bankers and what not. Come on, suck me.’

  I rocked forward on my heels, took his cock in my hand and kissed it, then just gulped it in, overcome by the whole beautiful dirtiness of the situation. Wendy giggled and Joe sighed as I took him right in to the back of my throat. I put my spare arm around her shoulder, drawing her close and sucking on Joe’s lovely cock, feeling it swell in my mouth.

  He was almost hard when I decided I was being greedy and pulled back, leaving his cock glistening with my saliva. Wendy gave me a last look, both excited and nervous, leaned forward and took him in her mouth, just inches from my face.

  It was lovely to watch Wendy suck, with her pretty, ever so slightly chubby face full of swollen, dark-skinned, dirty penis. She had her cheeks sucked in and her eyes wide, watching his shaft as she sucked on it, moving her mouth slowly up and down. He was soon fully erect, really straining as she started to use a new trick, coming off his cock and then pursing her lips to let him penetrate them as she went back down.

  ‘You’re a fucking good cock-sucker,’ he groaned. ‘How about a feel of those big knockers?’

  Before she could answer he had leaned forward, reaching down for her breasts and pressing his gut to her face. I though she would stop him but she didn’t, allowing him to grope her and pop her left breast from her bra. Feeling slightly left out, I pushed my head in close, kissing his balls before sucking them into my mouth. They tasted of male, bacon fat and ketchup, just as Wendy had predicted, but it was perfect, wonderfully rude, while my change of position had left my bum sticking out behind, doubtless giving him a fine view of the rear of my knickers.

  I was getting seriously aroused, but hardly expected a man like him to offer me a lick in return. In fact, an element of the pleasure was that he wouldn’t, and that if I wanted to come, I was going to have to masturbate in front of him. With that thought I reached down and slid a hand into my knickers, letting my knees come apart as I did so. My pussy was wet and the first touch to my clit set me on what I knew would be a long, slow rise to an exquisite orgasm.

  Wendy gave him back to me, moving slightly aside so that he could keep feeling the plump breast that he had lifted out of her bra. I took him in, deep, as I began to rock back and forth, stroking my clit to the same even motions. I do love sucking men’s cocks, it’s just such a dirty thing to do, to take a man’s penis in my mouth and suck on it until he comes in me or over my face. I wanted that now, as I came, a faceful of sperm, splashed in my mouth and across my cheeks, dribbling down to my naked boobs.

  I began to tug at his cock, masturbating him into my mouth, determined that he would come as I did. Wendy giggled and her hand found my back, tracing a line down my spine to my bum and slipping into the back of my French knickers. As she began to feel my bottom I was sure the timing would be perfect. Joe’s breathing was deep and punctuated by little grunts. I knew he was coming and jerked harder, full into my mouth, keen to come at the instant I got my mouthful of sperm. Wendy had pulled a little back, nervous of getting her face soiled but eager to see it happen to me, still feeling my bottom.

  He grunted and grabbed at his cock, jerking it free of my mouth to bring himself off with a flurry of rapid tugs. I saw the sperm erupt, right at me, a thick streamer erupting full in my face, catching the bridge of my nose and then my eye, right in it. I had been right on the edge of coming. With a messy face and a mouthful it would have been perfect, but getting it in my eye completely broke my orgasm.

  He did say sorry, to be fair, but that wasn’t really the problem. I so badly wanted to come, but instead had to make a run for the little wash area at the back to get my eye clean. Wendy helped, and I was soon fine, but I wanted to come.

  ‘Lick me,’ I demanded. ‘It won’t take a second.’

  Wendy hesitated, glancing back to where Joe could undoubtedly hear us.

  ‘I don’t care,’ I urged, ‘just do it.’

  ‘A girlie show, eh?’ Joe’s voice came from the door. ‘You might have done it before giving me my suck. Come on then, get your face in your little friend’s cunt like she asked.’

  ‘In front of you?’ Wendy answered. ‘Look, I’m not sure . . .’

  ‘Please, Wendy,’ I begged. ‘I’d like him to watch.’

  ‘But . . .’

  I couldn’t let her get prissy; I just needed to come too badly and the idea of her licking me with greasy Joe watching was too good to miss. She was nothing like as turned on as I was, but if things weren’t quite to her taste I could try and make them. There was stock piled on all sides, including a tray of big plastic bottles of ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise.

  Wendy was adjusting her bra over the boob he had been fondling. It was too good to miss, especially as she already had spunk on her bra. I grabbed a bottle and squeezed. A great jet of ketchup shot out, only not over her breasts but full in her face. She squealed and I quickly lowered my aim, sending a line of it full across her neck and both breasts. Joe yelled a complaint but I ignored him, laughing at the look on Wendy’s ketchup-smeared face as she stood staring at me, eyes wide and arms held out in a gesture of disgusted amazement. I squeezed the bottle again, close up, depositing a thick blob of ketchup into her cleavage. A lot went on the floor too, and as she made a grab for the bottle she stepped in it, slipped and sat down hard, right in the mess.

  I was laughing so hard I could barely stand, and when she lunged at my knickers and tugged they came down to my thighs and I came with them. She grabbed me as I landed on top of her and we rolled over, my arm going into the sticky mes
s. I fought back, knowing she could beat me but thoroughly enjoying the feel of her slimy, sauce-smeared skin as we grappled. I had dropped the bottle and my hand touched it as Wendy rolled me on to my back. She rose, straddling my body, only to get a stream of ketchup full in her face. Joe called out again, telling us to stop and calling us dirty little bitches, but I was in no mood to take any notice.

  Wendy had grabbed the bottle and we wrestled with it, sending sprays of ketchup over both of us, but mainly in my hair and face. I bucked my hips, trying to unseat her, but failed and the next moment the nozzle of the bottle had been pushed into my open mouth. She squeezed, her dirty face set in a sadistic leer as my mouth filled up with ketchup. Most of the rest of the bottle went in, forcing me to swallow frantically to stop myself from choking. When I finally managed to push the bottle away she had emptied most of it, leaving me too busy spluttering and gagging to defend myself.

  She rolled me over as I tried to spit my mouthful out, grateful only that it tasted better than Joe’s come. Wendy sat on me, settling her weight into the small of my back. With my knickers half-down my bum was showing and I heard Joe’s grunt of surprise at the state I was in, repeating his opinion that I was a filthy bitch. He was enjoying himself though. As I looked up I found him with his limp cock in his hand, stroking it over the sight of us wrestling, or rather, of me being beaten, as I had neither the strength nor the will to get Wendy off me.

  I tried to kick, but it was futile. Her weight was on the small of my back and I was too far gone to really fight anyway. All I could do was lie there and hope she would make a proper job of dealing with me. She did, reaching for a fresh bottle and squeezing the entire contents over my naked bottom. I felt it land, sticky and wet and disgusting, running down between my cheeks and soiling my pussy. She gave me a slap, spattering herself with ketchup, but only one. I knew why too: spanking would be too much my thing, even with a bruised bum. Wendy, filthy with ketchup, her bra probably ruined and her jeans in a disgusting state, would make sure I got worse.

  Sure enough, I felt her hands on my bottom, hauling the cheeks apart and showing him my anus. Once more I struggled, but more to try to seem unwilling than anything, given that I was having my bumhole shown off and I was pretty sure what she was going to do to me. Sure enough, I felt the nozzle of the ketchup bottle touch my hole and screwed up my eyes in disgust. Wet sauce oozed out on to my ring and I knew she had squirted some out to lubricate me. The nozzle prodded my bumhole and I tried to clench tight but it went up anyway, sliding past my ring and inside me as I gave a low, despairing moan.