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From: Shufflespeare <shufflespeare@dytrych.com>
Newsgroups: alt.stories.erotic
Subject: {ASE} The Seventy Three - (MF, Anal, Rape)
Date: Mon, 05 Sep 2005 15:34:30 -0700
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===================
I am the author of quite of a stories you can find at the link at the end of
the story.
It has been quite a while since I wrote and would love to hear you comments.
On with the story...
The Seventy Three
Rob looks at the sock on his dick. Not too baggy. It would be cool if it was
a struggle to fit over though. He wonders if it is possible to get athletes
dick from wanking into a sock when you have got athletes foot. Probably not.
It had been two years since he had left home was still bothered about the
sheets going crusty from a few spare drops.
He throws the sock in the laundry pile and gets ready for some good hand to
meat action. His freshly bought copy of "Juggs Monthly", the magazine for
the discerning admirer of the larger lady, lies on the bed beside him.
Number fifteen Cedar Terrace and Janine is stepping into the bath tub and
pulling the shower curtain closed. A splodge of shower gel in the palm of
her hand and the stress from her day at the call centre soon begins to
disappear as she washes her worries away. She turns the nozzle on the
showerhead from "pulse" to "spray". Janine wants to relax and feel the hot
water wash the day away.
Back at eighty one Cedar Terrace, just down the road, Rob has cast the sock
in the laundry pile and has the magazine open at page thirty two, propped up
on his peeled back duvet.
"Kate, wants to show you her wopping 36GG juggs and wants you to know she
likes to seventy three with her man,"
"Seventy three?" Rob asks. "She likes to seventy three. what's that?" Nobody
answers of course as there is only him in the room. Come to that there is
only him in the whole flat because he lives by himself.
It all becomes clear as he reads on.
"Seventy three," Kate, with the 36GG tits explains, "is just like a sixty
nine but with four of his fingers up your arse!"
From the CD player in Janine's bedroom, Destiny's Child are singing about
the joys of being independent women - a song Janine likes and holds as her
very own anthem. Being young and independent is something she enjoys. The
difference she fails to realise, is while Beyonce is rich, famous and a
highly sought after size eight, Janine lives in a small flat in a suburb of
Newcastle, gets by on minimum wage and hasn't had a date in fourteen months
and three days.
And is a size fourteen to boot.
Rob would love to give his Kate the four fingers she loved up her arse. He
would give her his whole bloody hand if he could. Kate, his two dimensional
date for the evening, is sprawled across the pages, beckoning him with her
36GG tits and her big round plump butt. "Take my cock, you dirty little
bitch... take it..." he snarls through clenched teeth, pumping his cock
furiously in his fist.
Talking to the girls in the magazines he wanks over is a worrying trait for
Rob and is something he only began to do recently. He wonders why he does
something so completely irrational like talking to the models on the pages
of the magazine when he fails miserably at talking to the real women he
meets in his everyday life.
Take the girl at the bus stand this morning for example. Just his type. Nice
full figure. Sweet angelic face. She had even smiled at him. Albeit out of
politeness. She has been using his bus stop for two weeks or so now. Rob
wonders if she had just moved to the area and if he could use that as means
to strike up a conversation with her.
But his mind is back on Kate now and his fist is working overtime.
Janine reaches up and brings the shower head from its hook and rests her
foot on the side of the bath. The room is full of steam as she directs the
jet of water between her legs. She holds her pussy lips open while the water
works its magic.
Too intense. She squats. The jet strays to her perineum. Adjusting her grip,
her middle finger circles her clit while her free hand wanders round the
back and down her arse crack.
The excess spray round her tight pink anus is just right. It serves to
lubricate the finger circling her puckered hole.
It slips in as far as the first knuckle and Janines eyes drift shut. The
pain. The warmth. The feeling of being dirty, sticking her finger in that
hole is too much and her clit begins to throb.
Robs arm is close to falling off with the beating his cock is taking. If
Kate was here for real instead of a photograph she would be in real trouble.
A string of cum flies through the air. Rob hears himself grunt. The cum
splashes over his belly.
Janine gasps for breath as wave after wave of pleasure coarse down through
her belly. Her back is arched and she is on her toes, crouched down in the
tub. The shower head is buried in the bushy growth between her legs. The
fingers of her left hand are slowing down as the tremors subside.
She likes the shower in her new flat.
Lights go out on both sides of the street. Time for bed. Work in the
morning.
The early morning dew covers the graffiti on the bus stand where Rob tries
to see past the scrawls of the different people who have carved their names
into the plastic window. Sticking his face past the shelter of the roof he
looks to see if the bus is coming. Another two minutes and it should be
here.
A slightly plump but very pretty young woman joins him and stands at the
other end of the shelter. They exchange smiles.
In Robs head she looks a lot like the Kate, the girl in the magazine who
liked four fingers up the arse while she gave head. His mind wanders for a
moment. What had this girl standing before him been up to the night before?
While he had been having one off the wrist, all alone in his flat, maybe
this girl had been getting it for real. Did she still have her boyfriend or
husbands cum inside her pussy, Rob wonders? Is cum leaking from her pussy
right now? Or is it forming a nice little stain in her knickers where it
leaked from her arse. Rob turns away, tried his hardest not to look at her
at all. Thoughts like that could drive a guy mad!
But if she didn't have something to adjust down there, Rob thought as he
watched her hand moving below her coat, why was her hand moving around like
that.
The mobile phone in Janines pocket is vibrating and she tries to finger the
buttons to cancel the call. There is nothing worse than a loud mouth
standing in a public place, speaking on the phone. She finds the cancel
button without having to look and notices the guy at the other end of the
bus shelter looking at her a little odd.
He is cute and it's been a while since anyone has asked her on a date. Not
since Brian, and that had been over a year ago.
If she hadn't found the video tape in the machine they might still have been
together. Janine shudders a little when she thinks how anyone could hide a
video camera in their bedroom and record themselves doing "that" with the
woman they are supposed to love and respect.
That was Brian all over though.
The next man ib her life had to be special. She wasn't going out of her way
to meet anyone. It would happen when it happened.
The number seventy three bus arrives and takes on the two passengers who had
been waiting at the bus stop.
Their days both fly by and Janines bus is still empty when it picks her up
where it usually does. She arrives back on Cedar Terrace and decides to make
a quick detour via the off-license. A bottle of wine would not go amiss
tonight, she thought as she was heading out the door of the corner shop and
making her way back home to settle down for the evening.
CRASH
The bottle of wine drops through the air and smashes on the pavement as
Janine is plucked of the street and dragged down the side alley by the
corner shop. Her mouth is covered. She cannot scream. Fear paralyses her,
prevents her from looking back over her shoulder when her attacker bundles
her over some bins and opens the back of her coat, skirt, tights and kickers
with a knife, the same knife she had glimpsed as she was being bundled into
the alley.
Janine realises she isn't far from the street and lunges forward to try and
attract the attention of a passerby. The pain of being dragged back by her
hair nearly being ripped from her scalp, stops her trying again.
He is fumbling behind her. Slapping her arse with his dirty cock. She can
smell him. He smells like newly decorated rooms. Like paint or something.
Janine grits her teeth in wretched anticipation of his entry. Choking back
the tears and trying her hardest to scream through the gag in her mouth, she
feels the cold blade at the front of her throat and freezes. She is
motionless as the cold slimy head of his penis enters her dry hole quickly
and rudely.
Janine can see a peice of broken bottle on the ground across the alley. As
the man on her back bucks wildly, stripping Janine of her dignity, all
Janine can think about is how nice that wine was going to taste. picturing
it being poured into the wine glasses she had been given by her brother as a
moving in present two weeks ago.
Rob unfolds the evening paper when he hears a noise outside. Sounds like
smashing glass. He gets up to the window to look but cannot see anyone. Just
a wet patch on the pavement across the street and some broken glass probably
from a bottle.
Taking his seat again, he turns the paper over but the sport page is all
about the local team and Rob doesn't support them so he throws the paper in
the bin and heads off to run a bath.
Rob stands alone at the bus stop the next morning. If the good looking girl
he had shared the bus stand with for the last two weeks didn't hurry up, she
was going be late for her bus.
He waits for the bus alone for the next week.
The following Tuesday morning was to be different though. If he had gotten
out of bed when the alarm went off instead of hitting the snooze button he
would not have been late for the bus. And he would have seen the girl at the
bus stop. Instead, he is just leaving his house when he sees the bus, with
the girl on board, pulling away from the stand.
Rob throws his case on the floor in a temper.
A man appears from no where and asks Rob if he is alright. Rob turns to see
the man in his early forties in builders overalls is picking up his
briefcase for him. As he hands it back notices a distinctive ring on his
finger. A falcon or an eagle engraved in gold.
Rob sighs and remarks he is just upset about missing his bus. The stranger
goes on his way and Rob waits for the next bus.
The day at the office passes almost without event and Rob decides to call in
at the corner shop on the way to buy a paper.
The man being served is paying for three weeks worth of newspapers he has
had delivered and Rob notices the same distinctive ring, the one with the
falcon, the same ring he had seen that morning. As the man turns to leave
Rob speaks up.
"Listen, didn't recognize you there, you had overalls on this morning, I am
sorry I was a bit off with you... it's just that I knew I had to wait ages
for another bus... thanks for stopping to help."
"No problem" the man replies, "I am never at my best in the morning either!"
Rob settles in front of the television with a freshly delivered pizza, a
fourteen inch salami special, his favourite. The cheese slides down his chin
as he opens that nights paper.
Page seven is all about the police asking for help with unsolved crimes.
This is Robs favourite bit.
One article in particular catches his attention. There had been a rape on
his street. A week ago. Police were asking for witnesses. The details are
pretty sparse but there is mention of jewellery.
The victim remembered an item of her attackers jewellery.
A ring.
With a falcon or eagle on it.
Rob reaches for his mobile phone.
Janine double bolts the front door and feels reassured the new locks will
stop anything. Remote panic alarms rigged to the local police station sit on
shelves in each room of her flat. Janine knows they are there for
reassurance more than anything.
Stepping into the shower she promises herself this will be her last one
tonight. Ever since that night a week ago, she had been in and out of the
shower at least three times a day. It was psychological and she knew but it
helped her feel clean. Not dirty or violated.
The water is just warming up when the phone rings.
It is the police.
The desk sergeant goes about her work as Janine waits in the reception of
the police station.
Janine has her head down, her gaze fixed firmly on a spot on the carpet two
feet in front of her and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. One foot is
tapping impatiently to the beat of a tune no one can hear.
At last, a young, trim and good looking man in a suit crosses the floor
between Janine and the offices and introduces himself as the officer in
charge of her case.
In the interview room Janine almost breaks down in tears of joy when the
officer tells her they think they have caught her attacker. A young man
thinks he has identified her attackers through clues given out in the press.
The police have been able to trace the mans address through records kept by
the local newsagent.
The "witness" they have is identifying the suspect as they speak but because
Janine didn't see his face they will only need an external witness to test
the guys DNA.
Jane asks the officer if she can meet the witness, thank them for coming
forward.
The officer looks up to see his witness passing the office. Leaving his
seat, he swing his head round the door and calls after him.
"Ms Brown, you wanted to meet the man who provided the crucial link in our
enquiries..."
Rob steps into the interview room and Janine gets up from her seat.
Closing the gap between them in a fraction of a second, Janine wraps her
arms around Robs neck.
"Thank you.... so very, very much!" she whispers in his ear, tears rolling
down her face.
"Anytime..."
********************
Please let me know if you think there should be a second part...
For any of my earlier stories visit...
www.tyronelamayer.freeuk.com