by Penny Birch
‘And you wanked him off?’
‘No I fucking well did not!’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m not into blokes.’
‘What if he’d offered you a suck? Close your eyes and you’d never know the difference.’
‘Yes I would. It wouldn’t feel right in my head, and you know that, Natasha, you’re as much into head fucks as I am.’
‘I’m sorry, I was just teasing. Tell me what happened.’
‘Nothing, I was just using him to illustrate my point. He was up for sex, easy and no strings, but he’d turned to men, even though he wasn’t gay.’
‘He was bi, by any standards, but I don’t know why you have to classify people anyway. Just look on him as a dirty bastard.’
‘Whatever. I wish women were like that anyway.’
‘Pay for it.’
‘That’s no good. I like to get off on what’s going on in their heads. How can I do that if they’re just bored, going through the motions while they think about what they’re going to buy with my money?’
‘What if they hate every second of it?’
‘That’s better, at least they’re responding.’
‘You pig!’
‘Not really, I’d feel too bad about it to get off. What I really want is a woman who’s like a pet dog, always loyal, always eager to please.’
‘Basically you want a woman as a sex object, and to see herself as a sex object. No one thinks like that. You’ve got to remember that everyone is individual, the centre of their own universe. Nobody is ever really going to see themselves as existing to satisfy you. Human beings are basically selfish.’
‘What I’d really like is a perfect robot girl, so that I could program her, yet she would be able to think for herself.’
‘Get real, Monty.’
‘You’d be surprised, maybe in my lifetime.’
‘Sure.’
‘It’ll happen. You’re wrong anyway, about people being basically selfish. You get cases of people completely devoting their lives to the worship of another person.’
‘Like obsessive fans who end up shooting the object of their desire? Great. Anyway, never mind your selfish fantasies, what about this bloke in the woods?’
‘What’s to tell? Like I said, he left a porno mag on an old stump and went to hide so he could see it. I came along, picked it up and out he came. He suggested we toss each other off and I turned him down. That was that.’
‘Weren’t you scared?’
‘What of?’
‘Being homosexually raped for one thing!’
‘He was half my size, and skinny as hell.’
‘It scares me, just thinking there are men like that around. I’d have run a mile.’
‘He’d have probably run a mile if he’d seen you. I know I would, if I was having a sneaky wank in the woods and a woman came by.’
‘Do you spend a lot of time doing that?’
‘No.’
‘But you do do it?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Dirty bastard!’
‘Me dirty! Look who’s talking.’
‘Fair enough,’ I admitted, ‘and I like it outdoors too. In fact, the day after we met I went up to a place on the Downs and frigged myself silly over what we’d done. I do it quite a lot actually, but I’m really careful. Girls can’t afford to risk getting caught.’
He didn’t answer for a while, and then he seemed to come to a decision.
‘You into that sort of thing then?’ he asked. ‘Exhibitionism and that.’
‘I like to be naked outdoors. Yes, I like to be seen, sometimes, if it’s safe, by the right people.’
‘We should do some of that, tomorrow. Maybe we could play the porno mag trick, and when some dirty old man picks it up you could wank him off. Would you do it?’
‘Yes.’
‘For real?’
‘I told you I would. If I’m in the right mood. It’s a really dirty idea. Right up my street.’
‘Right up your cunt.’
‘Maybe.’
We started work on our dirty little scheme in the morning. The first thing was to choose a regular haunt for dirty old men, otherwise we were likely to be waiting all day for nothing. He was obviously getting a big kick just out of planning it, so I let him take the lead. Besides, he seemed to have a pretty good idea of the best spots.
Sex that night had been straight, for us, with me on top of him, backwards. He was too fat to watch his cock go in and out of me properly, but he had a good feel of my bum, and his thighs and gut were nice to bounce on. To finish I climbed on top to be licked while I sucked his cock, and made him come in my face just as my own orgasm was building up, which was great. The result was that we were both in just the right mood for our escapade.
I wanted to get it right, in every detail. Dress for a start, which wasn’t an easy choice. Monty wanted me to go for a really tarty look, but it felt wrong for me, while he felt that most of the stuff I’d brought with me either looked too posh or too aggressive. He was painting the sort of men we were likely to come across as timid creatures, and wanted a non-threatening look but a sexy one. Trousers were out too, in case I needed to make a hasty cover-up.
In the end I walked down to a local charity shop and picked up a plain white dress, simple, and easy to lift. They had cheap cotton panties too, coloured ones in threes, and I bought a couple of packs, just to be certain I wouldn’t run out. He had told me to buy a pornographic magazine on the way back, which was pretty humiliating in itself. I chose the smuttiest one I could find, all smiling girls in tarty underwear, with big boobs and fat bottoms, and the leer on the shopkeeper’s face as I paid him was something else. Back at Monty’s I got into the dress and a pair of the panties, pink ones, without bothering with a bra. In the mirror I found that I looked a little cheap, a little slutty, but not nearly as bad as the girl on the cover of the magazine. My nipples showed, and the line of my panties, but I could have passed in a club if it wasn’t too exclusive.
I read the magazine in the car, marvelling over how vulgar it was, while Monty bought provisions. The poses were incredibly lewd, girls pulling their pussy lips apart, or holding their bottoms wide to stretch their bumholes out. Nothing was hidden, with pin-sharp focus on every little wrinkle of pink or brown flesh, every hair, even every spot. Most of it did nothing for me, any more than a medical textbook would have done, but one or two worked, where the girls seemed to be coy, or unsure of themselves. The best was one of the younger girls, a natural blonde and really quite fat. She looked shy and, in the shot of her pulling down her ridiculous tarty panties, it actually looked as if she was embarrassed about it, which was really sweet.
Armed with our porn mag and plenty of provisions, we set off south and west, in my car, Monty’s being some hideous boxlike thing, which I wasn’t going to be seen dead in. The sense of anticipation was wonderful. At the very least I’d end up being made to do something rude to Monty in the woods, and at best I’d have an audience, maybe more, if we took things that far.
He had the map on his knees, giving me instructions as we drove down past Reigate and off the main roads, finally stopping in a pub car park on a country lane. It didn’t look very promising, but he explained that it was to make sure the car wasn’t noticed and that it was a good way from the wood.
We lunched at the pub, then set off, with the pint of beer he’d insisted I drink making me feel naughtier and more excited than ever, braver too. In the pub we’d been playing a game, looking around at our fellow customers and trying to decide which might be dirty old men and what they’d be into.
The wood was a good half mile away, across fields, and I was glad I hadn’t gone for his suggestion of tarty high heels. He still had to pick me up to cross a narrow stream, and my shoes were pretty muddy by the time we got there, but I realised immediately that he’d made the right choice. There was a main road at the far side of the wood, with a lay-by, and it was obvious from the first that
people came there for sex.
Monty obviously knew it, because he led me straight to a dip in the ground, which he explained was an old railway cutting. It was overgrown with birch scrub, with a few clear areas, one of which we put the porn mag down in before retreating up the bank to hide. I knew we were likely to be in for a wait, but my heart was hammering in my chest. I wanted to be rude, so I made Monty take his cock out and sat playing with it as we watched.
We could hear the cars on the road, and the change in engine note when one drew into the lay-by. Each time it happened I felt my heart running faster still, but when somebody finally appeared, it was from the other direction. I froze, Monty’s erect cock still in my hand, watching as a grey head appeared among the birches. Monty hastily put his cock away.
It was one of the people who’d been in the pub, a very respectable looking man, well dressed and with an air of confidence, even arrogance, about him. I could well imagine him spanking me, bruised bum or not and, as he approached, my excitement rose to the point at which I could barely breathe. He reached the porn mag, glanced at it, and glanced away, his patrician features registering disgust for just an instant.
‘No go,’ Monty whispered. ‘He’s a local, I think. I’ve seen him before.’
I nodded, my heartbeat slowing, with both relief and disappointment welling up inside me. I hadn’t realised how strong my emotions would be, and I was wondering if I could go through with it, when we heard the sound of a car stopping in the lay-by once again. Both of us froze, listening.
A door banged, then there was silence, save for another car passing. For a while there was nothing, only for a jay to rise suddenly from the woods, setting my heart pounding. I turned to Monty, but he put a hand out, gesturing me to silence, then to duck down. I obeyed, peeping out from among the leaves. At first I saw nothing, then a movement a long way down the path, where I could still see the first man.
The newcomer stepped out, a businessman, dark suit and red tie, well padded if hardly in Monty’s league. I saw him nod to the other man as they passed, and as he came closer I made out his expression, crafty, guilty even, not the look of a man taking an innocent afternoon stroll.
‘He’s one,’ Monty whispered. ‘I’m sure he is.’
I nodded, certain he was right. Sure enough, as the man reached the porn mag he stopped, glanced back, forward along the path, then quickly picked it up, folded it and stuffed it into his pocket.
‘He’s going to pinch it!’ I hissed.
‘No way,’ Monty answered quietly. ‘He’s probably married. He’ll have a quick one, then drop it. That’s how it works. Come on.’
The man had moved on, and we followed, staying well down, until he suddenly disappeared into the bushes. Monty stopped me, counted to one hundred, then moved on once more, stealing through the scrub until I caught a flash of red ahead of us and we stopped.
It was the man’s tie and, peering closer, I could make him out, seated on a stump, the mag open on his knees, his spare hand squeezing his crotch. A solid lump had risen in my throat, and I exchanged an excited glance with Monty.
‘Can you do it?’ he asked.
I nodded, unable to speak, and he stood, walking boldly forwards.
The man’s reaction was instantaneous, jumping up and stuffing the magazine back into his pocket. I’ll say this for Monty, he had guts, because I’d have found the situation impossible to deal with, but it didn’t seem to bother him at all.
‘Hey,’ he called, ‘don’t go, my girlfriend wants to suck your cock.’
I gave him a prod with my elbow, because I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to go as far as that, but the man stopped and turned, hesitant, his face filled with embarrassment and aggression. He was pretty senior, to look at him, probably high up in the management of a sizeable firm, and there was confidence in his bearing despite his guilty look. Timid was not a word I’d have used to describe him. He said nothing, looking at us cautiously, his eyes flicking between Monty and me, or rather Monty’s face and my bust.
‘We’re for real,’ Monty assured him. ‘I like to watch her with other men.’
The man nodded, slowly, still cautious. He was a pretty big guy, but I could see he was sizing Monty up, wondering if it wasn’t some sort of trick. I smiled, trying to encourage him, despite the fact that I hardly felt confident myself.
‘So what’s the deal?’ the man asked.
‘Simple,’ Monty said. ‘She gives you a wank, I watch. If you’re lucky she’ll suck you.’
‘How much?’
‘Nothing!’ I answered.
‘Nothing,’ Monty agreed. ‘You’re getting a freebie.’
‘Tits out?’
‘Yeah, tits out. Come on, Natasha, show the gentleman what you’ve got.’
It was happening, and my heart was hammering in my chest as I reached down to take hold of the hem of my dress. I lifted it, exposing my thighs, my panties, my tummy and at last my boobs, which felt very big and very prominent, with him staring at them.
‘Nice,’ the man drawled, his tongue flicking out to moisten full lips. ‘Does she fuck?’
‘Only with me,’ Monty answered.
‘All right, but make her take her knickers off.’
‘My knickers stay on,’ I answered him, ‘but you can have a flash.’
I didn’t feel ready to show my pussy, but I turned and popped down the back of my panties, just for a moment, showing him my bare bum. I knew the bruises showed, and I was hoping he’d want to give me a little spanking, which was what I really needed.
‘Been at her?’ the man demanded of Monty. ‘You don’t beat her, do you, to make her do this?’
‘No,’ Monty assured him and I nodded agreement. He didn’t seem interested in punishing me, which was a pity, but his hand had gone to his fly.
‘All right,’ he said, ‘I’ll do it. Come on, darling, here’s what you want.’
He had pulled his fly down as he spoke, and the next moment had flopped his cock and balls out of the opening. I swallowed the lump in my throat, moving forwards as he sat back down on the stump, his thighs wide.
‘Rub your tits on it,’ he ordered. ‘Nice pair, hasn’t she?’
‘Gorgeous,’ Monty agreed. ‘Come on, Natasha, do as the gentleman says.’
I was trembling as I kneeled down in the leaf mould, but I did it, cupping my boobs and folding them around the hairy flesh of his genitals. I began to rub, feeling my nipples pop out as they touched his skin.
‘Good girl,’ Monty said. ‘Come on, jiggle them about a bit, give us a show.’
His cock had started to grow, and I obeyed Monty, bouncing my boobs in my hands to show them off. It felt good to be making a display of myself, for my body to be the centre of attention, and I knew I was going to suck him, even as I bent down. I took it in my mouth, a thick, leathery cock, half hard, peeling the foreskin back with my lips. He gave a grunt and pushed it out, filling my mouth.
I was still feeling my boobs, and bobbing my head up and down on his cock. He took it, holding it out for me, then starting to wank into my mouth. I sucked on it, concentrating on the hard feel of his shaft and the cock taste in my mouth, thinking of his fat body and leering face, of Monty watching, fatter still, my boyfriend, my fat boyfriend, watching as I sucked a dirty old man off in the woods.
I needed to masturbate, and I was going to, only to have him whip his cock out of my mouth, give it two last, hard jerks and come, full in my face. I gasped in shock as the spunk splashed in one eye, the second spurt going full into my mouth, with the last of the streamer left to hang from my chin. The third caught me across my nose and in my other eye, blinding me completely before he stuffed his cock back into my mouth, forcing me to suck down the last of his come.
He let his breath out with a long sigh as I swallowed on his cock, then pulled back. I couldn’t see, and there was spunk hanging from my lips and my nose, leaving me completely helpless. I heard Monty snigger and I called him a bastard, demanding help.
‘Use your knickers!’ he laughed. ‘He’s not going to fuck you now.’
They weren’t going to help, so I had to do it, standing to remove my panties and using them to wipe the man’s spunk off my face. When I finally got it out of my eyes I found Monty watching me and the businessman standing as he did up his fly. I gave him a dirty look, but he took no notice.
‘Good, isn’t she?’ Monty said.
‘Great,’ the man agreed. ‘See you again, maybe?’
‘Maybe,’ Monty agreed. ‘Could we have our porno mag back?’
‘Your mag?’
‘Yeah, we put it out so we could find a guy who’d want her.’
‘A dirty old man,’ I added.
He just nodded, passed Monty the magazine and left, heading back towards the lay-by. I finished cleaning my face, glad we’d decided I should do without make-up, and hung my soiled panties from a twig. Monty grinned.
‘Dirty enough for you?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I answered him, ‘but I wanted to come. I still do. Do you want to fuck me?’
‘Not yet, put a fresh pair of panties on, the pale-blue ones.’
‘What are we going to do? I don’t want to wait for another man, it might take ages!’
‘You’re going to make an exhibition of yourself.’
‘How?’
‘Just do as you’re told.’
I nodded, eager but a little scared, with my adrenaline running high for what we’d done, what I’d done, and wondering what was coming next. Monty watched as I fished a new pair of panties out of my bag, choosing the pale-blue ones as ordered, and pulling them on under my dress. I felt dirty, excited, and ready for just about anything. He took my hand, leading me back to the path.
‘Now what?’ I demanded. ‘Are you going to make me flash my panties at someone or something?’
‘No,’ he answered. ‘Do you need a pee yet?’
I nodded, understanding immediately.
‘Do it, then, in your knickers.’
I was aroused enough, excited enough and, before common sense could get the better of me, I had shut my eyes, letting my bladder relax. I didn’t need it all that badly, and it was hard, knowing that it was going to come out into my panties, but I concentrated, struggling to break a lifetime of toilet training, and suddenly it was coming, a dribble, then a gush. I felt it soak into the gusset of my panties, then start to pour from the front, down my thighs, back between my bumcheeks, and spraying out to soak into my dress.
