by Ray Gordon
‘This is great,’ he said. ‘You’ve made it really cosy.’
‘It’s a fucking slum,’ she sighed, picking her knickers up and tossing them on to the chair. ‘I’ll bet your wardrobe is bigger than this room.’
‘Well, I . . . This is lovely, Sheena. I mean it, it’s really nice.’
‘You do talk crap, Rod. It’s a crummy bedsit in a derelict house in a slum area. The fucking council won’t find me a decent place. If I got stuffed, like that slut downstairs, then they’d give me a flat.’
‘Slut downstairs?’
‘Angela, she’s in the bedsit downstairs. She’s pregnant and the council are moving her into a flat next week. She deliberately got stuffed so that she could get a bloody flat. She’s not totally screwy, though. She made sure that she got stuffed by a married bloke with money so he’ll have to pay her maintenance for the kid. And he gives her money to stop her running to his wife.’
‘I hope that’s not what you’re planning?’
‘Fuck that,’ she said, giggling as she joined him on the bed. ‘The last thing I want is a screaming brat. It would be funny, though.’
‘What would?’
‘If you stuffed me and I had your kid.’
‘It would be hilarious, Sheena,’ he returned sarcastically. ‘I’m sure it would go down extremely well with my family.’
‘Tell me about Deborah.’
‘Well, she’s . . . There’s nothing to tell, really.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘She’s at home. She lives with her parents.’
‘Does she live in a big house?’
‘Yes, she does. Look, let’s not talk about her.’
‘Has she got a posh second name?’
‘Sheena, please . . .’
‘Tell me, Rod. And then you can pull my wet knickers down and lick my cunt.’
‘Her surname is Gibson-Brown.’
‘Deborah Gibson-Brown. Oh, very posh. My name is Sheena Collins. Boring, isn’t it?’
‘Your name is lovely, but you are becoming boring.’
Reclining on the bed, Sheena raised her buttocks as Rod thrust his hands up her short skirt and slipped his thumbs between the elastic of her knickers and her shapely hips. He eased her knickers down her long legs and over her feet, then parted her slender thighs and pushed her skirt up over her stomach. His dark eyes wide, he gazed longingly at her puffy vaginal lips, clearly visible beneath a sparse fleece of blonde pubic hair.
Sheena stared at the cracks in the ceiling as he scrutinised the most private part of her teenage body. She had to better herself, she decided as Rod knelt on the floor between her feet. She had to get out of her bedsit and make something of her life. Rod leaned forward, planted a kiss on the gentle rise of her mons and breathed in her girl-scent as she parted her legs wider. She knew that, if she pleased him, she’d be seeing him again.
‘You taste like heaven,’ he murmured, his tongue probing her moist open slit.
‘That’s a new one,’ she said, giggling. ‘What does heaven taste like?’
‘Like a beautiful girl of eighteen named Sheena Collins.’
‘Suck my clit and bring me off,’ she sighed as he parted the fleshy cushions of her outer lips and gazed at her wet inner folds. ‘Give me a good licking-out and suck my clit and make me come.’
Wasting no time, Rod flicked the pink protrusion of her erect clitoris with the tip of his tongue and slipped a finger into her drenched vaginal duct as she writhed on her bed and gasped. Sheena let out a rush of breath as her clitoris responded to his caressing tongue and her juices of arousal flowed from her tightening vaginal sheath. Her outer labia swelling, her inner lips unfurling, she parted her thighs wide and arched her back as Rod attended to her most intimate feminine needs.
Rod obviously thought that their relationship could go nowhere, but Sheena was making her plans. Deborah Gibson-Brown, she mused, wondering where her rival lived. She suddenly recalled seeing the name Gibson-Brown on a large office building in town, and wondered whether there was a connection. It would be easy enough to find out, she reflected as Rod repeatedly swept his tongue over the sensitive tip of her hard clitoris.
‘Do you like my cunt?’ she asked him unashamedly.
‘Very much,’ he breathed. ‘I like it when you say that word.’
‘What, cunt?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does Deborah say cunt?’
‘You must be joking,’ he said, chuckling.
‘Are you going to fuck my cunt, Rod?’
‘Oh, yes. I’m going to fuck your sweet cunt so hard.’
Sheena knew that Deborah would be a stuck-up prude, and Rod obviously loved the idea of screwing a teenage slut behind her back. Fucking a dirty little whore was probably his way of rebelling against his posh family. Pulling a young whore and screwing her in her seedy bedsit was far removed from the prim and proper life he was used to with his family. He’d think about his teenage slut the next time he screwed Deborah, Sheena thought happily. He’d think about licking her tight little hole, sucking her erect clitoris and pushing his solid cock deep into her writhing body.
She imagined him having sex with Deborah. He’d be on top of her, saying nothing as he pumped his spunk into her posh pussy. The act would be cold and clinical with no words of lust, no passion. In defiance of his family, he obviously loved the idea of fucking a dirty little slut who used expletives and had no finesse. A common slut with greasy blonde hair, she thought as her orgasm neared. That’s what Rod wanted.
Arching her back as her clitoris exploded in orgasm, she cried out and writhed on her bed as he sustained her ecstasy. He was good, she thought dreamily – wasted on a stuck-up prude like Deborah. Her vaginal muscles contracting, gripping his thrusting finger, her clitoris pulsating wildly beneath his wet tongue, she again cried out as her orgasm peaked and shook her teenage body to the core. Again and again, waves of ecstasy crashed though her trembling body as she rode the crest of her climax. She knew she’d be seeing a lot more of Rod.
Her young womb rhythmically contracting, she could feel her vaginal muscles spasming, her clitoris pumping waves of pleasure throughout her young body as her orgasm rode on. Rod was very good, she thought again as he massaged the inner flesh of her sex-dripping pussy. Most of the men she’d been with were only out to satisfy themselves and hadn’t given a thought to Sheena’s needs and desires. Rod was different.
‘Fucking hell,’ she gasped as her pleasure finally began to wane. ‘Fucking hell, Rod. That was – that was amazing.’
‘You liked it?’ he asked, chuckling as he withdrew his wet finger from her tight vagina and lowered his trousers.
‘Liked it? It was fucking brilliant. But I want more.’
‘Let’s see whether you like this.’
Slipping his purple knob between the wet inner lips of her vulva, he massaged the solid nub of her clitoris with his thumb. He was teasing her, she knew, as he ran his swollen knob up and down the open valley of her wet pussy. He was making her wait for the feel of his hardness deep inside her young vagina. She begged him to fuck her as he massaged her erect clitoris with his firm cock. Her sex milk flowing in torrents from her neglected vagina, her womb contracting, she punctuated her words of desire with crude expletives.
Finally ramming the entire length of his rock-hard penis deep into her tight vagina, he lifted her feet and placed her legs over his shoulders. She gasped, her eyes rolling, her head lolling from side to side, as he withdrew his solid cock and then rammed into her again. The bed rocking, creaking loudly, he found his rhythm and repeatedly battered her ripe cervix with his firm cock. Writhing in the grip of her ecstasy, she could feel the engorged inner lips of her pussy rolling back and forth along his veined shaft as he repeatedly drove his rock-hard shaft deep into her squirming body. Her lower stomach rose and fell with every thrust of his beautiful cock. This was what she’d craved.
Her erect clitoris massaged by the wet shaft of his thrusting c
ock, Sheena knew that she’d soon be writhing in the grip of her second orgasm. She’d lost count of the men she’d taken back to her bedsit for sex, but she knew that Rod was the best in a long time. By the expression of sheer sexual bliss on Rod’s face, she also knew that she was far better than Deborah. Did the woman fake her orgasms? she wondered. Or didn’t she even bother to make out that she was enjoying Rod’s intimate attention? Rod needed a real woman, she thought as he breathed heavily and his body became rigid. He needed a common slut.
‘Here it comes,’ he gasped, throwing his head back.
‘Fuck me hard, Rod,’ she cried, her clitoris teetering on the verge of a massive orgasm. ‘Yes, yes . . . Fuck me senseless and fill my dirty little cunt with your spunk.’
‘You’re beautiful, Sheena. You’ve been sent to me from heaven.’
‘From hell, more like. Stop talking crap and spunk into my tight little cunt.’
His sperm gushing from his throbbing knob and bathing her rhythmically contracting sex sheath, he rammed his length deep into her writhing teenage body again and again as he drained his swinging balls. Sheena reached her second climax, wailing and squirming on her bed as she felt his male cream flooding her tight vagina. Her orgasm gripping her, her vaginal muscles pulsing in waves, she shook uncontrollably as the squelching sounds of sex resounded around the room.
He really was good, she thought in the grip of her sexual delirium, and she imagined seeing him every evening and enjoying hours of crude sex. He knew how to treat a girl, how to treat a dirty little common slut. Looking forward to nights of hot fucking as her clitoris pulsated in orgasm, pumping waves of pleasure deep into her young pelvis, she wondered how often she’d see him. She also wondered how much money he’d give her.
‘You really are amazing,’ he gasped, finally slowing his thrusting rhythm. ‘You’re everything a man could ever want.’
‘I’m still coming,’ she breathed. ‘Don’t stop, I’m – I’m still coming.’
Massaging her pulsating clitoris with his thumb, he grinned. ‘You’re my dirty little slut,’ he said as he sustained her climax and she writhed uncontrollably in her ecstasy. ‘You’re my dirty little teenage whore.’
‘Yes, yes,’ she murmured, her young body convulsing.
‘I’ll fuck you senseless every day, Sheena. Would you like that?’
‘God, yes, fuck my tight little cunt every day.’
‘OK, relax now,’ he whispered, massaging the last ripples of sex from her deflating clitoris. ‘Just relax, my horny little angel.’
‘Was I – was I better than Deborah?’ she asked him hopefully.
‘You were a million times better.’
‘Good, that’s good. Fuck me, you were amazing. That was the best fuck I’ve had in ages.’
‘I’d better get going,’ he said, rising to his feet and tugging his trousers up.
‘No, no . . . I want more, Rod. Please, don’t go yet.’
‘I have to, sweetheart. There’s a family meeting later and I must be there.’
‘Will she be there?’
‘Deborah? No, no, she won’t be there.’
‘Who fucks best, me or Deborah?’
‘It’s Deborah or me.’
‘I’ll never get it right, will I?’
‘Of course you will. Anyway, you fuck best, Sheena. You’re by far the best. Now, I really must go. Do you have a phone?’
‘Don’t talk crap. How the hell can I afford a poxy phone?’
‘How can I contact you, then?’
‘Give me your number, Rod. I’ll call you and . . .’
‘No, no, I can’t do that. Look, I’ll meet you in the pub tomorrow evening. Say, six o’clock?’
‘OK, I’ll be there. Does Deborah live on the private estate?’
‘Why this preoccupation with Deborah?’
‘I – I want to know, that’s all.’
‘Yes, she lives on the estate. Until tomorrow, my angel.’
‘Yes, OK. Bye, Rod.’
Waiting until he’d closed the door behind him, she slipped off the bed and pulled her knickers up her long legs to cover her sperm-oozing sex crack. Punching the air with her fist, she reckoned her future was looking good. Rod had money, he was good in bed . . . Looking around her room and imagining the day when she’d be leaving her bedsit to move in with Rod, she grinned. Deborah was about to become history, she thought happily, grabbing her handbag and leaving the room.
The evening sun warming her as she walked to the back-street pub, she felt positive for the first time in her life. She’d made a little money now and then by screwing dirty old men, but she was going to leave all that behind her and move on to better things. She’d have a house with a fitted kitchen, she mused happily. A nice bathroom and a huge bedroom and . . . But she realised that she had a long way to go before walking down the aisle with Rod.
Wandering into the pub, she noticed her friend standing at the bar. ‘Hi Nat,’ she said, her pretty face beaming.
‘Where the fuck have you been?’ the girl asked her.
‘Getting fucked by a rich man,’ Sheena replied with a giggle. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
‘Dirty little bitch. Did he pay you?’
‘Of course he did. Fifty quid.’
‘Wow! You can get the drinks in, then.’
Ordering two lagers, Sheena couldn’t stop grinning. ‘He’s not just a one-nighter,’ she said. ‘He gave me fifty quid, but not for sex. He wants me to buy some new clothes, a black dress.’
‘You mean he’s going to be a regular punter?’
‘No, no . . . We’re together, as a couple.’
‘Don’t talk out of your arse, Sheena.’ Nat sighed. ‘He gave you fifty quid for a fuck.’
‘Think what you like, Nat. But me and him are an item. Him and me, I mean.’
‘What?’
‘He’s going to teach me proper English, teach me to talk right.’
‘Now you really are talking out of your arse,’ the girl breathed, taking the drinks from the bar. ‘Pay the man, and then come over here.’
After paying for the drinks, Sheena joined her friend at the table and sat opposite her. Nat was jealous, she thought as she took a gulp of her beer. They were the same age, both lived in bedsits, and both were stone broke. And Nat was jealous because Sheena had a chance of some sort of future, at long last. Eyeing the girl’s long black hair, her huge dark eyes, Sheena smiled at her.
‘We’ll always be mates,’ she said. ‘Even when I live in a big house and . . .’
‘Fuck off, Sheena,’ the girl cut in. ‘You’re living in a dream world. This bloke, whoever he is, is taking you for a ride – literally.’
‘No, no . . . Me and Rod went to the Castle Club.’
‘He took you there?’
‘Yes, he did.’
‘You mean they let you in?’
‘Why shouldn’t they let me in?’
‘Well, you’re not exactly classy. Did you wear that skirt?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll bet the snobs were laughing at you.’
‘No one laughed at me. Rod introduced me to Elizabeth, a friend of his. She was really nice.’
‘Get real, Sheena. She probably felt sorry for you. You’re a trollop, like me, and you’ll never change. We’re losers, and always will be.’
‘Say what the fuck you like, I don’t care.’
‘Did you walk around the club saying fuck all the time? I’ll bet that went down well with the snobs.’
‘Of course I didn’t. It’s a posh place, people don’t swear.’
‘Sheena, every other word that leaves your mouth is fuck. Fuck this, fuck that . . .’
‘Not when I’m with Rod. You’re just jealous.’
‘You daft bitch, of course I’m not jealous. Anyway, I saw Jenny earlier.’
‘Oh?’
‘She’s pregnant.’
‘Fuck me.’
‘See, you said fuck. You can’t say anything witho
ut saying fuck.’
‘Yes, but . . . I’m not with Rod now, am I?’
‘You really are a silly cow, Sheena. Anyway, Jenny has been stuffed and she doesn’t know who the father is so she won’t be able to get child benefit.’
‘They’ll have to pay her something, won’t they?’
‘I don’t know, I suppose so. Is that your plan?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Like that slut did in the bedsit below yours. Get stuffed by some rich bloke with a wife and then . . .’
‘Nat, me and Rod have talked about marriage. He lives on the Golden Beach private estate and . . .’
‘What the fuck are you on, Sheena? You’re not doing drugs, are you?’
‘Of course I’m fucking not. Me and Rod . . . Rod and me have talked about marriage.’
‘I think it’s Rod and I,’ Nat corrected her.
‘What?’
‘I remember from school . . . Never mind. So, a rich bloke who lives on the Golden Beach estate wants to marry a slut like you? How old is he, eighty?’
‘He’s in his twenties, actually.’
‘Actually? Oh, I say, you do sound posh.’
‘Fuck off, Nat. Why aren’t you pleased for me?’
‘Sheena, Sheena . . . You have so much to learn, babe.’
‘I suppose you know everything?’
‘I know more than you, that’s pretty obvious. This bloke . . .’
‘Rod.’
‘OK, this Rod bloke . . . How long have you known him? When did you meet him?’
‘Earlier, in here.’
‘Fucking hell, Sheena. You met him this evening, and he wants to marry you?’
‘Well, we’ve only talked about it. He has this stuck-up girlfriend and . . .’
‘And you’re his bit on the side? Yes, I get the picture.’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘I’ve known you since we were five fucking years old, Sheena. I always knew you weren’t the sharpest knife in the box, and now you’ve proved it. This bloke, Rod or whatever . . . You met him in here this evening, he fucked you and gave you fifty quid, and you reckon that he wants to marry you? Oh, and he already has a girlfriend.’
