by Ray Gordon
"I was held up."
"Is Tony still there?"
"Yes, he's in the garden with Helen. I thought you'd still be here, that's why I came back."
"I was there but... Wait there, I'll be with you in two minutes!" he cried victoriously.
I waited by the front door, wondering at Gary's reaction when he discovered how well I'd stitched him up. Using and abusing me, whipping me, leading me around the room like a dog on a chain, having his perverted friends fuck my arsehole... The tables always turn!
"Hi!" I smiled as I opened the door. "I thought we was going to..."
"Jackie! Where's Tony?" he breathed, leaping into the hall.
"Still in the garden."
"Great! Come on, let's go and find him!"
He ran down the hall to the kitchen and dashed out into the garden like an excited child. Following him, I leaned in the doorway, watching him look around the garden. Turning to look at me, he frowned as I pulled my wig off and removed my dark glasses. His mouth hanging open, he said nothing as he looked me up and down.
"Helen ain't here," I grinned, removing my wig and dark glasses. "The bitch must have buggered off somewhere. And Tony ain't neither."
"You bitch!" he finally breathed.
"Thanks for the two thousand pounds, by the way."
"The two thousand... you evil fucking bitch!"
"That's me! I don't need you, Gary. I have David and Lydia, Laura, Stephen Giles, Chris, virtually any man I want on the common... I also have Tony to support me financially. Isn't life great?"
"I'll see to it that Tony..."
"Yes, of course you will, Gary. And I'll see to it that your wife finds out where you're living."
"My wife?"
"Jill. I have her address, I'm sure she'd be only too please to discover where you're living."
"Helen, please!"
"Please what?"
"I'll give you sperm, I'll..."
"Gary, I have things to do, people to see, people to fuck. Go home and wait for your wife to call you."
"Helen, I..."
"Fuck off, Gary!"
Following him to the front door, I watched mooch down the drive, forlorn, lost in defeat. A great sense of satisfaction welling inside me as I closed the door, I thought about my candle. I needed to masturbate, to frig my clitoris to orgasm. I needed sex!
Wandering into the lounge, my clitoris in dire need of attention, I slipped my smock over my head and grabbed Tony's chair. Easing the large wooden ball deep into my drenched cunt, my inner flesh stretched to capacity, I gasped. Rocking my hips back and forth, fucking the chair in my crudity, I massaged my clitoris to a massive orgasm, my naked body quivering as the waves of pure sexual ecstasy rolled through me.
Ignoring the ringing phone as I collapsed to the floor, the wooden knob filling my tight cunt, I lay there, gently massaging the last ripples of sex from my pleasure nodule. I loved my cunt, the power she gave me, the incredible sensations she awarded me in return for my caresses. I loved Lydia's cunt, and Laura's sex-juiced vagina. Cunts, cocks, tits, arseholes... I loved crude sex for the sake of crude sex.
Slipping the wooden ball out of my tight vaginal duct, I clambered to my feet, my nakedness thrilling me as I entered my studio and stretched a blank canvas over the wooden frame. What to paint? A girl, naked on all fours, her arsehole exposed, her cuntal entrance vulnerable. Satan kneeling behind her, his penis entering her tight bottom-hole, violating her private sanctum.
There's money in filth! I mused, reaching behind my naked body and slipping a finger deep into my bottom-hole, massaging my inner rectal flesh. With my free hand, I fingered my hot cunt, bringing out my sex milk, stiffening my clitoris. Yes, I'd paint Satan abusing a girl, fucking her virginal arsehole. In the name of Satan, I offer my arsehole, I sacrifice my cunt, my body and soul!
-oOo-
Enjoy more great erotic stories by best-selling author Ray Gordon, also exclusively published as an eBook by us and ready to download from many online bookstores now...
Undying Lust
As the man lifted her arms and bound her wrists to the tops of the X-shaped frame with leather straps, Wendy tried to stop him. What was this? Some kind of ritual? She didn't want to be bound to the cross, but she was powerless to utter her objections, let alone break free. Kneeling behind her and pulling her feet apart, the man secured her ankles to the frame too, rendering her naked body completely defenceless. This was some kind of ritual, she was sure. Why else would she have been brought to a chamber and bound to a wooden frame? Why was he still kneeling on the floor behind her? The feel of the man's fingertips stroking her naked buttocks, Wendy gasped. Rudely parting them, confirming her suspicions, the man chuckled as her tethered body jolted and she struggled to break free.
"What's the matter, my dear?" he asked her, focusing on the tightly-closed ring of her anus...
A near-death experience leaves Wendy Sherman noticeably changed. She had always been very straight-laced, but now she thinks nothing of discussing sex in an open and free manner. Things go from bad to worse when she tries to lure her brother-in-law into bed.
Is it possible that in the few moments she was near death, her soul left her body and someone else quietly slipped in? Does some sex-crazed deviant from the dark and distant past, someone who wants to use her body for his own lascivious pleasure, now possess her?
-oOo-
And as mentioned in the intro pages of this book, if you're keen to write erotic fiction and would like our Author Guidelines, or you're a published author and have existing work, the eBook rights of which remain with or have reverted to you, we would be delighted to hear from you.
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