A Birthday to Remember

Another fabulous tale by the incomparable AnaLover in which what should have been a special day goes badly wrong. (FF, FMM, FM,  anal, nc)

The first time Emma wondered if she might have made a mistake travelling home late in the evening by Underground and train was when she distinctly felt someone caress the cheeks of her buttocks, barely covered by the little pleated skirt she was wearing, as she was standing in the middle of a crowd of people on the Tube train. There was nothing furtive about the gesture, and Emma knew the man who did it (she assumed it was a man but it could easily have been a horny woman) would have moved his hand between her legs if she hadn't whirled round in surprise and shock, unable to spot who the mystery groper was before the train suddenly stopped and people pushed past her to get off, moving quickly, their expressions set.

Two stops later Emma got off and made her way up the elevators to the main line station. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw the train was waiting and found a seat in a well-lit compartment. She rummaged through her back and found a packet of tissues and the small bottle of water she always carried, poured water onto the tissue and used it to cool her neck and the slopes of her breasts left bare by the low-necked tie-fronted cotton top she was wearing. She had debated whether to wear skimpy clothes before she set out but decided summer in the city would mean heat and dirt; the less she was wearing the better.

She checked her watch and then scanned the compartment to see if anyone had left a newspaper lying around. They had and she picked it up, settled into her seat again and thought how wonderful it had been to celebrate her birthday with all her old friends from teacher training college and how their lives had changed from the hopes and dreams they'd had when they were students. She remembered herself particularly, lying on her back on the comfortable bed in the room she shared with her best friend Michelle, moaning softly as Michelle lazily licked her tongue in all the wet and sensitive places between Emma's legs, sucking gently at the stiff bud of her clit, holding back from probing the most sensitive place of all, Emma's arsehole, until she was ready to give Emma the climax she loved.

Neither of them were lesbians: they just loved having sex with each other. Both had insatiable sexual appetites but didn't want to sleep with every man they met: this way they could be selective and still fall asleep every night curled in each other's arms, their bodies sated, their holes pleasantly tingling from the variety of vibrators and dildos they liked to use on each other. Most of the time Michelle simply used her fist, slathering it with lube and filling Emma's cunt to the brim until she'd come so many times she was almost insensible which was the moment Michelle finally gave in to Emma's entreaties and pushed her fingers, then her fingers and thumb, then her whole hand up to the wrist, into the depths of Emma's rectum. Emma had a gag she had to use when Michelle did that, otherwise her howls of ecstasy would have been heard across the entire campus.

They had gone their separate ways when they graduated, always staying in touch via telephone or email, sometimes meeting up for a night of passion in a hotel. But it had been too long since the last meeting and Emma's heart leapt when she saw Michelle sitting with the other girls in the bar where they'd agreed to meet. Beautiful, sexy Michelle who suddenly excused herself to go to the loo, took Emma by the hand, led her into a cubicle and gave her friend a kiss of welcome that made her teeth hurt followed by a tonguing that left Emma trembling with satisfied desire, her cunt dripping with sex-syrup, her arsehole quivering with the delightful pleasure of being invaded by three KY-smeared fingers at the same time as she was sucked to orgasm. Emma wouldn't have minded if Michelle had wanted to fist her right then and there but she needed a drink first, champagne for preference, followed by reciprocating with her own skilled tongue probing between Michelle's legs.

It had been a great night, full of laughter, shrieked reminiscences, good food and wine. All the girls screamed 'Lezzas, lezzas!' when she and Michelle kissed goodbye standing in the street waiting for Michelle's taxi, their arms round each other, their tongues intertwined and Emma walked to the nearest Tube station happy, still aroused and looking forward to being back home in bed with Tom who would undoubtedly give her arsehole the workout it craved.

The pleasurable thought of sucking Tom's cock clean after it had emptied the contents of his balls into her bowels made Emma less aware of her surroundings as she buried her head in the paper's celebrity gossip page and it was only when the announcement came over the train's tannoy that the doors were closing that she looked up and saw two men had sat down in the seat opposite her. She wouldn't have cared but the whole carriage was empty and yet they'd chosen to sit so close and Emma drew in her legs, pulled her short skirt down and wished she hadn't been quite so eager to make herself accessible to Michelle by not wearing a bra, especially as the thought of being buggered repeatedly by Tom had made her nipples stiff.

Emma glanced at the men quickly. They were in their mid-twenties, smartly dressed in suits, their ties undone. Listening to them talk in low voices about the state of the money markets, seeing their expensive leather briefcases and coats, Emma guessed they worked in the city, probably as stockbrokers which she found reassuring because they'd have good, well-paid jobs which they'd hardly want to jeopardise by harassing her. The men had probably been to a bar before catching the last train home and Emma would have relaxed except the man with blond hair, on the left, was staring at her breasts and the other one was staring at the smooth expanse of her thigh exposed by her short, pleated skirt. Emma buried her head in the paper she was holding, her heart beating in her chest.

"Excuse me, is that seat taken?" the man on the right suddenly asked, indicating the place next to Emma. "I hate travelling backwards."

She was about to lie and say it was, her boyfriend was joining her, when the guy immediately moved and sat down. The guy on the left took his friend's vacant seat and Emma realised two things. The two men formed a barrier between her and the door to the compartment, and the one opposite could see through the glass partition if anyone was coming.

Emma knew she was acting irrationally but she felt light-headed with fear. She tried to rationalise the men's actions could be innocent but she instinctively knew, from the way they stopped talking about gold movements and the dollar-pound exchange rate, that she was the centre of attention.

"Hot, isn't it?" the man opposite said as he pulled his tie off.

"Mmm, yes," Emma said in a disinterested voice. She looked back down at the newspaper, trying to act nonchalantly.

"You look nice and cool," the man to her right said.

Emma didn't respond.

"A lovely short skirt, thin top, no bra. Sexy and cool."

Emma went on the attack.

"Sorry?" she said, her voice angry.

"N-i-c-e skirt," the man said slowly, as if she were retarded. Then, making Emma jump, he reached over into her lap and flicked the hem up an inch or so, revealing more of her creamy thighs.

"Get your fucking hands off me," Emma snarled.

"God, Giles," the man opposite said. "You can take the woman out of the city, but you can't take the city out of the woman."

"Too right, Toby," the man next to her said and Emma felt sick. If these men didn't care if they used their real names, then harassment was the least of her worries.

"Think she's a working girl, Toby?" the man named Giles said.

"I don't know," the man next to her said. "Let's ask her. Excuse me, miss, but are you a prostitute? If my friend were to flash his wallet would you be only too delighted to get down on your knees and give us the finest blowjob money can buy?"

Emma stood up. "You're drunk," she said and tried to move past the man on her right.

He grabbed her wrist, gripping it hard.

"No, I'm not," he said in a low, menacing voice. "I'm horny, just like my friend Giles and we fancy a fuck. With you. Are you up for it? Both at the same time, preferably, one in your cunt and one in your arse. Make you scream with pleasure we would…"

Emma stared at the man who nodded his head at his friend. She glanced across and saw Giles had unzipped his flies to expose his big, circumcised cock. The head was purple, full of blood, hard with his arousal. He reached up and took hold of Emma's free wrist and pulled her down so she had to close her fingers round the shaft.

"That feels nice," the man said and Emma realised that, of the two, Giles had drunk more or he would never have let his guard down. All she had to do was punch downward and he would be writhing in agony on the carriage floor. But was it worth it? What might Toby do?

Held captive between the two men, Emma could do nothing when Toby ran his hand up under her skirt and stroked his fingers between the lips of her cunt. She cursed herself for still being aroused after the sex session with Michelle because Toby let out a sigh of approval when his index finger slid effortlessly between her pussylips and up into the wet hole.

In other circumstances, Emma might have enjoyed being finger-fucked but now tears sprang to her eyes. She felt violated and hated that the happy night out with her friends to celebrate her birthday was going badly wrong.

Toby was concentrating on frigging her cunt, Giles on Emma's fingers stroking his cock. Neither of the men noticed the compartment door open.

"Is this a private party or are you committing a crime, gentleman?" said a voice from behind Emma.

She whirled round and found a tall, handsome black man standing there, a warrant card in his hand. His picture and the words 'Metropolitan Police' were clearly displayed. Instantly, the men released Emma's wrists, Toby's hand shot from between her legs, Giles stood up, fumbling with his flies to hide his cock.

"We were just being friendly, officer," Toby said, his voice showing his fear of arrest.

"Detective Sergeant," the policeman said. He turned to Emma. "Is that right, miss?" he asked her.

"No, but I don't want to make anything of it," she said. "I just want to get home."

"Gentlemen," the policemen said and paused. "Make your way into the next carriage and sit quietly. When the train stops, get off. I don't care if it's your stop, if you're still on the train when it moves off, I will arrest you. Understood?"

"Yes, officer," said Giles, grabbing his briefcase and raincoat. Toby did the same.

"Detective sergeant," the policeman said in a weary voice, as if reminding children.

The two men scurried from the compartment and the policeman sat down, waving to the seat opposite. Emma sat down too.

"Do you want to make a statement?" he asked her.

"No. I'm just glad you came along. I think they had a lot more in mind than they managed to do."

"Yes, I'm sure," the policeman said and Emma realised he was looking at her breasts.

"Thank you for rescuing me," she said.

"Just doing my job protecting young women travelling on trains alone," the man said. "It isn't safe."

The train slowed and then pulled into a station. Emma saw Giles and Toby get off looking disconsolate. The stop was obviously not theirs. As soon as the train doors closed they made gestures in the black policeman's direction and yelled obscenities but he ignored them.

"It will be some time before the next stop," the man said. He leaned toward Emma and crooked his finger, beckoning her to lean closer.

She did so and he said, "I was wondering how you were going to thank me?" and, to her astonishment he reached up and pulled the string of her top open, exposing her breasts.

"What the-?" she started to say and then saw the look on his face. It was cold, menacing, far more frightening than Giles or Toby were ever likely to be. And then she realised. The policeman had not rescued her; he had simply removed the competition.

Moments later, with her panties round her ankles and her mouth full of the black policeman's ebony cock, Emma found herself wondering about her own confused reaction to what was happening.

On the one hand, the policeman's whole manner was sinister and Emma suspected if she struggled, or objected in any way, he would hurt her. Without hesitation and possibly badly. But what confused her was she didn't feel like struggling or objecting. The penis in her mouth tasted clean and salty from the man's pre-come flowing from the tip. His thick pubic hair smelled of cologne and his balls were big and smooth as lemons, the skin taut to her touch as she reached her fingers into his trousers and rolled the twin spheres, heightening his pleasure.

Time and again Emma bobbed her head up and down on the man's cock, taking the head into the back of her throat and then releasing the shaft, slick with saliva and come, until her lips ovalled round the crown and she squeezed gently, cutting off his orgasm until she was ready. She could tell from the laboured breathing coming from above her the man was enjoying what she was doing, and to tell the truth, so was she, the lips of her cunt felt hot and swollen and warm syrup dripped from her hole down the inside of her thighs.

Emma wasn't sure if the guy wanted to climax in her mouth or take himself to a point of intense arousal and then fuck her and she twisted her head as much as she could to see the expression on the man's face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open slightly and she guessed he wanted her to continue so she did, slowing her movements, savouring the warmth and thickness of the penis in her mouth, the flavour of the man's come which she had to keep swallowing every time the big head entered the back of her throat, the masculine scent which filled her senses every time she buried her nose in the silky black curls of his pubic hair.

He responded by threading his fingers in her hair, holding her down a fraction longer when she did something he liked, letting her lift her head up when she needed to breathe, just as Tom did when she was at home in bed, kneeling over his groin as he lay on his back, raising and lowering his hips to fuck her face with his long, thick cock as she pushed a thickly-lubed dildo back and forth in his receptive arsehole. For a moment Emma wondered what Tom would have felt had he been able to see her giving a blowjob to a handsome black policeman on a deserted train and suspected her lover would have been worried sick and highly aroused by the sight at the same time. The thought cheered her and she resolved that, whatever happened, she would not allow the man whose prick she was sucking to harm her.

The pressure of the man's hand on the back of her head became more insistent. Emma sucked harder, long, drawing sucks that gave the man such pleasure he was moaning softly deep in his chest. She could feel the skin of his balls tightening in her fingers and knew his balls were buzzing with hot semen it was in her power to release. The thought turned her on so much Emma longed to reach down between her legs and frig herself to orgasm at the same time as the man emptied his balls into her mouth but she dared not alter the rhythm of her sucking. Her breasts were heaving, her nipples taut, she longed to be fucked or, better still, buggered, but she kept sucking prick, her own needs put aside until the man decided what he wanted her to do next for she had no doubt the key to her survival lay in pleasing him, being obedient, and doing whatever he demanded.

And then the hand in her hair was joined by another, holding her head in place, her mouth still, her lips stretched wide round the shaft. The penis in her mouth throbbed, jerked, and a gush of semen spurted onto her tongue closely followed by another. Emma swallowed the first heavy spurt of sweet salty liquid, feeling it slide down the back of her throat, a creamy mass that felt sensual as it slid down into her belly. She loved the feeling: it was the main reason she loved sucking cock, that and the feeling of power it gave her to make a man come using her dexterous tongue and soft lips.

The penis in her mouth pumped out more and more jism, so much Emma found it difficult to swallow fast enough and she let some of the creamy rivulets of saliva and semen escape the oval of her lips to drip from her chin and slide down the shaft. The guy grunted softly, obviously enjoying the slippery friction of her lips on his sensitive skin. Apart from that he said nothing and Emma felt relief wash through her that she had given him pleasure by her skilful sucking.

Eventually the flow eased and the man allowed Emma to release his still-hard cock from between her lips and sit up, her bare breasts on display, her panties still round her ankles. Her eyes met his and she took a chance, reaching down to unhook them from round her shoes and dropping them on the seat next to her. Absurdly, she found herself wanting praise for emptying the man's balls, as she always did from Tom who gave it unselfishly. But this man was different and Emma knew her ordeal was far from over.

"That was nice," the black policeman said.

"Thank you," Emma said as she wiped her mouth with her fingers and then licked them clean.

The man sat with his penis lying against the material of his trousers, unconcerned someone might walk past.

"Do you do that to your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Often?"

"Yes."

"Does he prefer that to fucking you?"

"No, I don't think so," Emma said.

She wondered for a moment where the line of questioning was going and if she should be quite so truthful: if the man became jealous he could well become dangerous out of envy. But then she also realized this was no ordinary man: he was a policeman, skilled at questioning, undoubtedly astute to signs when people were lying.

"Then what does he prefer?"

The question was asked lightly but Emma saw the flash of sexual hunger in the man's eyes.

"He likes to fuck my bum."

The man reacted by reaching for his penis. He curled his fingers round the ebony shaft, stroking the foreskin back and forth over the big, purple glans. Then he asked, "Is he big?"

"Average."

"Bigger than me, then," the policeman said and Emma cursed herself for being caught out in the lie.

"A little, perhaps," she said, keeping her voice soft. "But yours is thicker."

"Some girls don't like being buggered," he said and Emma saw her chance to make up lost ground.

"I do," she said, her eyes meeting his. "A lot."

Emma opened her legs, knowing the lips of her cunt were clearly visible, glistening with sex-syrup. She wondered whether to reach down and stroke her clit but decided to wait, aware the man's satisfaction was in controlling what she did. He would give her permission to pleasure herself when he was ready.

"He doesn't hurt you?"

"Only at first, when it goes in. But it's a nice hurt."

"How often does he do it?"

"Every day. More at the weekend."

"Lucky man."

Emma leaned across and took the black policeman's balls in her fingers, caressing them gently.

"Maybe. But he's not here now," she said. "And you are."

The man smiled but his eyes were cold.

Suddenly the policeman let go his prick, reached for her wrist and pulled her toward him, keeping her bent double as he spun her round. Caught off balance, Emma let out a cry of surprise when the man grabbed the hem of her skirt, flipped it up to reveal her buttocks and pulled her down onto his rearing cock which slid between the lips of her cunt and up into her dripping wet hole in one smooth motion. Held firmly round the waist, powerless to resist, all Emma could do was reach down onto the seat to brace herself as she surrendered to the inevitability of being fucked.

Emma's naked breasts bounced as the man lifted her bodily up and down on his prick, amazing her with his strength. His cock made wet slurps in her cunt as it slid in and out, the scent of her arousal filling her nostrils, the sight of his big hands gripping her round the waist intensely erotic. Whether she liked or not, Emma was being humped by the black man who held her captive and she could feel every last inch of his long, thick prick filling her cunt to bursting.

But she didn't want him to spurt his come into her pussy. "Please," she groaned. "There's lube in my handbag. I want you to fuck me in the arse."

The man responded by climbing to his feet, tipping Emma's body forward so that she had to cross her arms to support her head on the cushions of the opposite seat. His prick still hilted in her cunt, her breasts hanging down, she felt naked and exposed as she heard him rummage through her bag for the tube of KY Michelle had given her as a souvenir of their time in the ladies loo.

She waited expectantly as the man squeezed the lube onto his fingers; felt a thrill of excitement when his fingers touched the sensitive opening of her anus. He kept his prick moving slowly back and forth in her cunt as he smeared the lube round and inside the sphincter, working it open to take one and then more of his fingers.

"You're easy," he said and Emma smiled, knowing it was a compliment.

"Yes," she whispered. "I told you I love to be buggered. You'll be the first cock I've had back there today. My girlfriend pushed her fingers in, but that wasn't nearly enough."

Emma moaned softly when the black policeman withdrew his cock from her cunt. For a moment she felt empty, hungry for more, a hunger he satisfied immediately by taking the head of his cock in his hand and squeezing it against the muscle of her arsehole, forcing it to open. When it did, the man pressed forward slowly and gently until the first few inches of his prick were buried in Emma's stretched arsehole, then he slid the remainder of the shaft up into her back passage until his silken balls rested against the dripping lips of her cunt.

A born exhibitionist, even Emma never imagined that one day she would be buggered in plain sight on a train. The prospect that anyone could walk past, at any moment, and see her being sodomised by the ebony prick of the black policeman almost made her pass out with excitement, that and fact that the man with his cock in her arse was still applying lube to her buttocks even though his cock was now firmly lodged in her bowels.

He squeezed out more and more of the oily liquid, smearing it over the cheeks of her buttocks, between her legs making her pubic hair sticky and the lips of her cunt slippery, and even reached down between his own legs to make his balls slick with lube so they slapped wetly against her swollen labia every time he thrust his prick deep into her rectum. The sensation was amazing, his groin made a loud slurping noise every time it battered against the cheeks of her arse, his prick gurgled obscenely every time he pulled his hips back and then drove forward, burying the shaft in her arsehole. Emma was amazed: she had had some weird experiences when she was being arsefucked, but this was a first.

Bent double, her arsehole receptive to every deep thrust of the cock filling it, Emma felt her climax beginning to build, a sensation made even more intense when the policeman reached under her body to fondle her breasts with his lube-slick left hand at the same as he reached down between her legs and frigged her clit with his right. She loved the way he alternately rubbed and pinched her nipples and clit, both of them deliciously slippery, and she pushed her buttocks back to swallow up every deep, grinding stroke of his cock, feeling the head churn in her bowels.

"Yes - give it to me!" she cried. "Come in my arsehole, I want you to spunk up my arse!"

The black policeman's breathing became more laboured, his strokes harder and deeper. She felt the same intense excitement and bit her lip, willing herself to hold back until she felt him come in her back passage.

And then it happened, a surge of hot liquid pouring from the cock buried in her bottom triggering her own powerful orgasm, waves of pleasure surging through her belly making her jerk and quiver, her arsehole swallowing the prick buggering her as a flood of sex-syrup gushed from her cunthole over the fingers that were buried inside it. Time and again the black policeman heaved his groin against her buttocks, emptying his balls into her arse, each heave met with an answering shudder from Emma whose legs trembled with the intensity of her climax.

And then the wonderful sensations began to ebb and the man slowly withdrew his cock, allowing her to stand up. His face was flushed and beads of sweat stood out on his upper lip as Emma pulled together the front of her top and smoothed her skirt down over her buttocks, the material slightly clammy as it stuck to her skin sticky with the lube.

The train began to slow and Emma glanced out of the window. She could see familiar landmarks and knew her station was next.

"I take it I can go now, Detective Sergeant?" she said, sitting down on the seat opposite to tie the front of her top and find her handbag.

"Of course," the man said, smiling at her. "Thank you for helping us with our enquiries, miss."

His cock was still exposed and Emma couldn't resist opening her lips and taking it into her mouth, relishing the flavour of her arse and the man's sperm on the lube-slick shaft. She was still sucking when the train slowed down and stopped but quickly stood up, kissed the policeman lightly on the lips and walked off the train, delighted when she saw Tom was waiting by the deserted pathway leading to the station car park.

A moment later and she was in Tom's arms, her lips meeting his in a passionate kiss, taking his hands and pulling them round her body to cup the cheeks of her arse. Emma could tell Tom was slightly bewildered by the intensity of her greeting but she felt his cock harden against her belly as he took the hint and slid his hands under her skirt.

"Hmm, you taste of arsehole and spunk," he said when she broke the kiss.

Emma nodded and gave him a cheeky grin. She squirmed to manoeuvre her bottom in his hands and he felt the stickiness oozing from her arsehole.

"And you've been buggered!" he said, his eyes widening in delighted surprise. "God, that must have been some birthday party!"

He took her arm and led her to the car, stopping when they reached it. He made her face the car door while he walked round behind her and Emma knew exactly what he wanted and stood with her arms stretched out across the roof, her legs open. Tom knelt behind her and flipped her skirt up, making a little cry of surprise when he saw how slippery the cheeks of her bottom were.

Emma let out a coo of delight when she felt Tom take the furrow of her arse in his hands and pull the cheeks apart, exposing her freshly-buggered arsehole. Her coo turned to a soft moan of pleasure when his fingers slid between her legs to stroke her clit at the same time as his tongue probed her anus. The second it slid past the sphincter muscle she contracted her arsehole and felt the black policeman's heavy load slide down her rectum and into Tom's waiting mouth. She heard him swallow greedily and knew he loved nothing more than a fresh load of spunk that had been spurted into her arse, and it didn't matter if it was his own or any other man's, he loved both.

Eventually Tom had licked out all there was of the policeman's sperm and he stood up, kissed Emma so that they could share the last remnants of the tasty treat and opened the door for her.

"I need a bath," she said. "I'll tell you all about the evening if you want to join me."

"It's a deal," Tom said. "And afterwards another big cock in your arsehole?"

"Deal," Emma said with a smile.

Tom started the car and pulled out of the car park but instead of taking the road home he turned toward the station entrance.

"Why-?" Emma started to say and then Tom stopped the car and the black policeman stepped out of the shadows, opened the rear passenger door and climbed in.

"Darling, this is Detective Sergeant John Oginga of the Metropolitan Police, one of my oldest friends from college. I invited him to share our bed for the weekend, if that's alright."

"Pleased to meet you again, Miss Boswell," the black policeman said.

Emma arched an eyebrow at Tom.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," he said, and grinned.