Perverts 'R' Us

Molly's Story

By Nobody True ( M/g, 1st, cons )

This is a true story as told to me by one of my seven nieces.

About two weeks ago we attended the funeral of one of my family's closest friends. He was killed instantly on a notorious stretch of road involving a tractor while out for a spin on his motorbike.

Three of my nieces had come to stay with me so they could attend the funeral of big Clem and pay their respects. All of big Clem's family and hundreds of friends and neighbors attended the funeral.

The only down-side was the police arriving at the reception, complaining at the one hundred and fifty or so motorbikes parked in the vicinity of the church hall, the vicar had put them right, especially as the local press were looking on. Big Clem and his friends had done a lot for charity, the church, and the local community. He would be sorely missed.

The police soon moved on.

After the reception, Molly, Clare, Ruth, and I returned to my house. I got out a couple of bottles of cider and four glasses from the kitchen. I thought we could all do with a drink, as the girls seemed a bit subdued (girls, they weren't girls anymore!). All three of them were in their mid to late twenties. Two of them, Clare and Ruth, were married with five children between them. Molly had just met a new man and hoped this one would work out. She'd had many relationships in the last few years, all ending in disaster.

We sat in the living room, chatting about people at the funeral we hadn't seen for years, when Molly picked up my laptop and started reading. I'd left it slightly open the night before after writing yet another of my stories.

"Eeee, Uncle Bob!" she exclaimed.

As I clambered over the coffee table to retrieve it, Clare and Ruth beat me to it. They all started to read one story at a time, all three of them giving me beady-eyed looks.

I sat squirming on the settee, wondering how I was going to explain. There were sounds of Eeee's, whoahs, and wows coming from all three of them. They read the lot, and passed the laptop back to me, followed by a chorus of, "WELL?"

"Well what? They're only stories, they're not true. They're fantasies, that's all."

They all started giggling. "We believe you, Uncle Bob, but there are lots of people out there that wouldn't."

I squirmed.

Ruth asked if I had anything stronger to drink. From out of the cabinet I retrieved two bottles of vodka that Big Clem had brought me back from one of his numerous travels abroad. Rather apt, I thought.

The girls started whispering to each other, "You do know about big Clem don't you, Uncle Bob?"

"There's nothing about Clem that I don't know," I said, smirking.

I fondly envisioned the big man (a cross between a Viking and a big Irish navvy, with hands the size of shovels) in my mind. All three were creased up laughing, and I stared at all three in turn, bemused.

Clare started with, "You do know why he'd never married?"

"And why he didn't have a regular girlfriend?" Ruth said, as Molly laughed uncontrollably.

I stared at them, "Ah, well… He didn't want to commit himself, he was a free spirit."

All three were now pissing themselves laughing. "Hysterical" wasn't the right word.

Molly spluttered out "He wasn't any free spirit when he was shoving that monster into me when I was eleven."

Clare exclaimed, "Eleven? I was ten!"

Ruth rounded off with "I was thirteen."

"Yes," Molly had said, "but you were only a tiny little thing even then, so he probably waited."

I sat staring at all three of them, shocked, not believing a word.

"What's wrong Uncle Bob, didn't you know?" I sat bemused shaking my head in disbelief.

"There are seven girls in our family, and Uncle Bob and Big Clem fucked all of us, one at a time, as each one of us reached puberty" Molly said. Clare said that he'd fucked six of them from his own family.

Ruth countered with, "…and most of my friends, too."

"Eeee, do you remember when he got stuck inside little Annie?" Molly and Clare chorused. "Little Annie with the tiny fanny. Well, it's not so tiny now." All three erupted in uncontrollable laughter.

"Eeee, don't" said Ruth. "She still has problems, even now."

I sat there staring at them. I didn't have a clue.

"Didn't you notice that there were more girls at the funeral than anybody else?"

I shook my head, "Well, there seemed to be a lot of teenage girls there."

"I bet Big Clem fucked every young girl 'round here," Molly said.

"I bet," said Ruth. "I know most of them."

I sat in silence trying to take it all in while the girls polished off one of the bottles of vodka. I made my excuses and went up to bed for an early night, leaving the girls downstairs.

I woke about 10:00am, to find Ruth asleep, laid on the settee clutching my laptop. I took it from her, opened it, and stared, added to my list were three new stories, Molly's, Clare's, and Ruth's. I sat, clicked Molly's and started to read.

Molly's Story

It was one of those Sundays, nothing to do after Sunday lunch, an early night to look forward to, and back to school tomorrow. Big Clem was cleaning his big old black motorbike as usual.

"Hi, Molly."

"Hi, Big Clem."

"What you up to?"

"Nothing really, just wandering 'round."

"Will you do me a favor, Molly? Pop 'round to the fag (cigarette) house and get me some 'backy."

"OK, Clem."

"I'd go 'round myself, but I'm busy. I'll give them a ring and tell them you're picking it up for me, OK? If I'm not here when you get back, I'll leave the door open at the flat, OK?"

"OK, Clem."

I'd been to the fag house more than enough times for my parents. The couple that lived there was always going abroad, bringing back thousands of cigarettes, tobacco, and booze,

I collected Clem's 'backy, all eight packets - that's how many he smoked a week - and headed back. He wasn't outside, so I wandered up the stairs to his flat. The door was open, so I went in sat on the couch and waited.

It was an untidy place, real scruffy, a brown Dralon three-seater couch, a coffee table covered in full ash trays and empty pint glasses with "Old English" written on them, a large amount of notes and pocket change, a music system on an old round table in one corner, vinyl records piled up high on the floor, a portable television on a stand in the other corner, all the walls covered in posters of big-breasted, scantily-clad women sprawled across motor bikes. A single man's palace.

I could hear water running in the bathroom, and thought he must be getting a wash. The bathroom door opened and there stood Big Clem, vigorously drying his long, brown hair, a small bath towel wrapped around his waist that just covered his thighs, strong muscled arms covered in tattoos, and big hairy legs.

I sat and stared - I'd never seen anything like this before, not even my own father. He'd always gotten changed in the bathroom with the door firmly locked.

I sat and watched as he brushed his long hair, twisting and knotting it into a ponytail. Then I shuffled on the couch, catching his attention,

He turned smiled and said "Got the 'backy OK, then?"

I nodded.

He walked towards me, reaching down to the coffee table, retrieved a pound coin and passed it to me. I smiled and said, "Thank you," passing him the 'backy. He threw the pouches onto the couch.

"Are you in a hurry, Molly"?

"No, not really" shaking my head.

"Fancy a drink then?"

I nodded.

He picked up two glasses from the table, went into the kitchen, swilled them out under the tap, and got two bottles of cider out of the fridge, bringing them back in and filling them to the brim with the golden-colored liquid.

Passing one of the glasses to me, I gingerly held it in both hands. He raised his glass to me, smiled, and said "cheers" and gulped the whole lot down in one. Taking a small sip, I said "cheers" back,

He sat next to me, refilled his glass, and pulled a small metal tin out from between the arm of the couch and the cushion and opened it, revealing green leaves. He opened one of the pouches of 'backy and started mixing them together in the tin, then rolled it into a long, thick cigarette.

After lighting it, he inhaled deeply coughed a little, saying, "Too much 'backy."

"Smoke?" he said.

I nodded. Everyone's tried a cigarette at least once. Putting the glass on the floor, I took it from Clem, placed it to my lips, and inhaled.

Coughing and sputtering, I fell onto the floor, dropping the fag on the worn carpet.

Big Clem was laughing hysterically. He picked me up, sat me on his right knee, patting my back trying to get air back into my lungs. "You OK, Molly?"

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. He picked the fag up and started smoking it. "Get yourself a gulp of that and you'll be alright."

I'd spilled a quarter of the cider on the floor, but drank some of what was left and felt much better. He refilled my glass and I drank some more. He held the fag towards me, asking "Try again?" and I shook my head no. "Go on, I'll make it easy for you." Unsure, I nodded.

He pulled me closer to him, his right arm wrapped around me with his big hand resting on my belly. Taking my chin in his left hand and opening my mouth, he inhaled deeply, pressed his lips to mine, and exhaled. I didn't cough this time.

"OK?" he said. I nodded and smiled.

"Want some more?" I nodded again. "Take a drink first."

I did, and he carried on three or four times, me taking a drink after each blow. He refilled my glass and then made another (joint). My head was starting to spin a little and I started giggling, He was tickling me with his fingers.

Somehow he'd managed to undo four buttons on my cream, button-up-the-front summer dress. His hand was inside, tickling the nipple of my right braless mound. I giggled and squealed as he squeezed my nipple between his fingers. Pushing his hand further in, he squeezed my left nipple between his fingers while his thumb rubbed the right one, making them hard.

He held me by the chin again, kissing my lips and opening my mouth wide. He slid his tongue in, exploring the inside and playing with my tongue. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I liked it.

He pulled me closer, and I felt his left hand on my right knee, forcing my legs open. His hand caressed its way up to my pussy, his fingers rubbing between the lips and making my pants wet. He pulled his hand out of my dress and pushed me backwards. I was now sprawled on the couch.

Clem kneeled on the floor, undoing all the buttons on my dress and opening it wide, revealing my small mounds with their nipples erect and hard. He started kissing them in turn. I giggled as he rolled them between his teeth, and I yelped when he got a bit rough.

He giggled, and his head started moving down, kissing my ribcage, down to my belly, his tongue flicking in and out of my belly button and making me wriggle as I tried to escape his tongue. I was giggling hysterically, but I liked it.

His head moved down to the top of my panties, his hands were on either side of my hips, forefingers slipping into the waistband, and he looked up smiling and said, "Daddy's Angel." I looked down to my white panties. He was right, that's what was printed on them - a large, pink love-heart covered my pussy.

I giggled and watched as he pulled them down my legs and off, throwing them on the coffee table. Opening my legs wider, his head went down. His tongue licked between my pussy lips and found my love button, teasing it and making it hard, making me wet, his tongue flicking and tickling the inside of my little hole as it pushing its way in slowly. He held his hands behind my knees and lifted. Opening my legs wider, his tongue went deeper inside my pussy, swirling around and around.

His hands moved up, holding my waist. The back of my knees were now resting on his biceps, and he lifted and pulled me towards him until my knees were now resting on my shoulders.

He looked down and then I looked down at my hairless pussy, the lips shiny and wet with saliva, and my love button protruding proudly.

I giggled and then he giggled. He moved his hips forward and his cock slid up between my pussy's lips, forcing them open. I watched as the big purple head slid its way up, the hardness scraping past my love button, completely obscuring my pussy.

It was as fat as my lower arm, with the purple head even wider. Up it slid towards my belly button, and I stopped giggling and stared.

It kept moving up, and I felt his hairy balls rest against the cheeks of my arse. The purple head was two inches away from the bottom of my small boob-mounds. He slid it back down until the head was resting in between my arse cheeks, and his hands moved to my thighs,

Gripping tightly, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of my inner thighs and squeezing, he pulled my legs apart. My knees lay flat against the cushions, and my arse was resting on the edge of the couch.

He stared at my pussy and then he looked straight into my eyes and smiled. His cock started sliding up again. My lips parted in the wake of the purple head, sliding up to my love button. It stopped and moved back down, and then back up. He carried on sliding it slowly up and down, the hard, protruding vein on the underside of his cock rubbing against the rim of my little pussy hole, opening it wider.

It slid back down, the purple head resting on the pink rim. He adjusted his knees, and his cock pointed straight out - a horizontal shaft between his lower belly and the inner pink rim of my pussy hole.

His hands moved down gripping my little arse, his thumbs digging into the rim and pulling my little hole wide open. I stared with wide eyes, biting my lower lip as he forced the head into my little hole.

The head disappeared inside and I gasped in amazement - it didn't hurt. He pushed further, but something inside was stopping it. He moved his knees, arched his back and thrust forward, breaking through. I screamed as the monster cock forced its way inside, stretching and ripping my insides.

My hands were holding my belly tightly, I felt sick. It stopped again, and he slid it back and pushed again, much harder this time. I felt it under my hands going into my stomach. He pulled it back slowly, forcing it hard back in, backwards and forwards, in and out, getting faster.

I was moaning louder and louder as his cock started throbbing and my belly started to swell. Suddenly he stopped and pulled it out. It was still big and hard, and creamy globs of cum, streaked in red blood covered it.

He stood up, walked to the bathroom, and washed it. I lay there with my legs still wide open, staring at my pussy, not believing what had happened. How had he managed to get so much of it in?

I was staring at the evidence - bruised thumb-marks on my inner thighs, my once little pink hole was now red, raw, aching, and sore, now massive and gaping, his cum and my blood trickling out and down the crease of my arse onto the worn carpet.

Clem returned, his big cock clean, standing proudly out before him. He kneeled down in front of me, wiping my pussy and arse clean with a damp towel. He smiled and said, "You OK, Molly?" I nodded with uncertainty.

Sitting down next to me, he pulled me towards him, lifting me onto his knees, his hard cock wedged between my right thigh and his belly. He pulled my head towards his, cupped my chin with his right hand, and kissed me gently on my forehead, nose, and lips, asking if I was sure. I nodded, not knowing whether I was or wasn't.

He slid his right hand down my belly, down to my pussy and slid a finger in. "Does it hurt, Molly?" I shook my head no.

"Open your legs, baby." I stared at him, scared and unsure. "Go on, there's a good girl. It won't hurt anymore."

Opening my legs slowly, I stared as he pushed two fingers easily in while rubbing my love button with his thumb. It felt different this time - not hurting, a nice feeling inside. I started getting wet, opening my legs wider, and pushing my pussy towards his thick fingers, allowing them to explore. My arms reached around his neck and I kissed him on the lips. He smiled and kissed me back.

I followed his gaze as he looked down, removing his fingers that were now covered in a whitish liquid, he brought them up to his lips, licking them and shoving them towards mine.

My mouth tightly shut, I turned away. He giggled as he sucked them clean. Scooping me up in his arms, he turned me around, facing away from him, my back resting against his chest and his hard cock between us, both arms reached around me.

Locating the undersides of my knees, lifting my legs and opening them wide, my feet rested on the edge of the couch. His hands were now on my inner thighs, both forefingers pushing into my pussy. Both of his thumbs were working on my love button, and his two middle fingers joined them. He removed them slowly, his thumbs still working away at my button. All eight fingers were on my pussy - four on either side and the longer ones were dipping in.

He whispered "OK?"

I lifted, pushing forward as all eight fingers slid in, up to his knuckles. His fingers moved like mad inside and his thumbs rubbed my button. I was getting wetter, and I started pushing harder and harder as he slid all eight fingers in and out. A strange feeling started building up inside me. Crying out with my legs twitching, I felt like I was peeing myself, a whitish liquid spurting out between his fingers. I collapsed against his chest.

Kissing me on my forehead, he asked if I enjoyed it. I nodded my head enthusiastically, saying, "Oh yes!" He asked if I'd like to do it again. I jumped off his knees, in shock and said, "Now?"

He laughed, "No, not now, tomorrow."

"I'm at school tomorrow," I replied.

"I bet you're not," he said.

I looked at him quizzically, "Why?"

"Because you'll have a bad tummy,"

"Will I?" He nodded. "Can I go home now?" He nodded. I got dressed quickly, left big Clem's flat, and ran down the stairs and home.

The next morning at 10:00am, I'm knocking on Big Clem's door. He opened it, smiled, and said, "Was I right?" I nodded. "Come for some more?" I nodded again.

I went and saw him as much as I could without being missed for weeks, until he started asking questions about Clare. If he asked her to call and keep him company, I agreed as long as I could still keep him company as well. I think the novelty was starting to wear off and he needed a new friend.

The end