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Sharon looked at her rain splattered watch. She had five minutes to get to the railway station, buy a ticket, drag her bag down the stairs and into the 7.45 train back home. All up it was going to be a 90 minute trip home to her husband and the four other band members waiting to celebrate her fortieth birthday.
The so called conference she just left had been a debacle. From self-destructing technologies to delayed presentations, the day, and the previous night, had been a total waste of time.
Her husband Marcus had organised another gangbang with the band for her birthday, and she had to be home, at the very least, by nine o'clock. Why nine o'clock? Because after the last gangbang good old Stan, the aggressive cockhead with the small dick and appalling attitude to women, told all the other guys' girls about what was going on. So now they all had to be home around ten. But such is life and when there is a will, there is a way. She had originally planned to be home by about 7.30 but it seemed that fate was against her. If she wasn't going to get two and a half hours of hardcore sex, one would have to do.
Two weeks earlier Marcus had told her of his plan to fuck her senseless. She hadn't known about the conference at that time and now, as the companies finances collapsed, she couldn't really say no.
So here she was, ninety minutes from home and as horny as a goat. All she could really think about over the last two weeks was having the band fuck her like they had a few months ago. She wanted her cunt, arse and mouth filled with cock. She wanted cum, not rain, sprayed all over herself. She was a total slut and her husband loved her for it.
The rain was peeing down and the wind was strong enough to blow a dog off a chain. The familiar blue light of the railways signage beckoned to her through the veil of falling water. She flung her overnight bag back over her shoulder and continued down past the Railway Hotel towards the station. She had a quick look into the pub and saw three workers in their matching work jackets having a beer at a table. In the background the barman was on the phone. 'Sitting down to a nice cold beer would be nice,' she thought to herself. She couldn't say the same about the 'All you can eat' Asian 'Chew and Spew' next door. The awnings overhead did little to keep the angular precipitation from drenching her attire. Her hair, indeed nearly her entire dress, was soaking wet and the wind had it pinned tightly to her petite, soft body.
The streets were nearly empty of both cars and people, not surprising considering the almost cyclonic conditions. With no weather protection available she never bothered to shield herself from the torrential downpour. Only about fifty metres away was the railway station and ninety minutes later she would be home, naked and being fucked.
She heard the familiar sound of a train rumbling towards the station as she stepped back into the rain. She put her head down and ran as quickly as her heels would take her across Railway Parade. Thanks to the wind carrying away most of the sound, the train was much closer than she thought. As she reached the footpath the train pulled into the station. A builder would have been offended by the language she used as the realisation that she was going to miss the train sunk in. Through the yellow tinted windows she watched ten or so punters hop on to the near empty train.
Regardless of the inevitable, she continued to sprint along the footpath and for a short moment, she was running at the same speed as the train as it left the platform.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she said into the storm.
Although the train was gone, she bolted up the stairs to the station, took protection from the wind and rain and pondered what to do next. She looked up at the railway staff member who spun the hand on the clock around a full 360 degrees to 8.45pm and as far as she knew, she was going to miss out on the gangbang. All she could think to do was ring Marcus and let him know she would be catching the 8.45 home and that by 10 all the guys would be at home with their beloveds. She fished her mobile out of her handbag and called home. She heard the riff of the Beatles 'Birthday' and her heart sunk for a moment.
"Hey darl, how are you?" Marcus said.
"Up the shit."
"Why, what's going on?"
"Missed the bloody train."
The music stopped in the background.
"bloody hell," Marcus said
"I won't be home until after ten."
"That sucks."
"Tell me about it," Sharon leant forward in a despondent slouch. "And it's as windy as all fuck and pissing down rain."
"Is there anywhere to go for an hour?"
Sharon looked back down the street. "There's a pub just down the road."
"What's it called?"
"The Railway Hotel," Sharon said.
"Go and have a beer," Marcus laughed, "Maybe you can pick up down there."
"There were only three people in there Marcus," She looked back down the empty street toward the pub, "For Chrissake its a Tuesday night, not a Saturday."
"Well I'll see what I can do here," Marcus said. "Maybe we can spin a yarn to their girls."
"Give me a call in ten." Sharon said. "I'm as horny as hell."
"No worries love, see ya."
"Bye," Sharon said and slipped her phone back into her bag.
The ticket office was still open and a man of indistinguishable ethnic origin glumly slid her ticket across the grate without even glancing up from his magazine.
Like a hypnotist's spiral, the rain spun around in loops as it was blown down the road in the direction of the Railway Hotel. She was already soaked so re-entering the tempest was not an issue.
With the wind behind her, the trip back to the pub was quicker than the upwind crawl to the station. The owner of the 'Chew and Spew' held the door open for a moment in the hope that Sharon was a interested in consuming the congealing by-products of an i*****l abattoir. Sharon slowed at the first window, and with a renewed interest, she eyed the three lads through the nicotine stained glass.
When the door of the pub opened and a wet, petite lady with long curly black hair stepped in, all heads turned towards her. For Sharon, entering the pub raised two separate reactions. Firstly she was hit with the smell. Stale beer, cigarettes, deep fryer oil and sweaty men, all combined to act as an olfactory aphrodisiac that sent memories of wild drunken sex flooding through her cerebral cortex. Secondly the icy air conditioned atmosphere sent her nipples northward. The three lads sitting in the middle of the room kept their eyes fixed on her as she smiled at them and sauntered towards the bar.
The pub was your typical 1960's beer barn with carpet that was so old, the underlay was visible through the worn sections under the stools.
"Still a bit wet out there?" One of them asked sarcastically.
"Just a bit." Sharon replied laughing. "I missed the train so I thought I'd pop in for a quick one."
"What would you like?" another asked.
"Oh," Sharon pretended to be surprised by the offer, "I'd simply love a beer."
"Easy," he said as he hopped up from the stool and as he was halfway to the bar he turned back to his mates.
"Sorry guys," he said, "who's up for another?"
They both raised near empty glasses before one said to Sharon, "What beer would you like?"
"Carlton will be fine."
"Carlton for the lady Jacko."
A drop of water ran off her hair and trickled down into her cleavage.
"You should go and dry yourself off upstairs," one of them said.
"I might do that," she looked over to the barman who was smiling at her and still chatting to someone on the phone.
Sharon felt the two guys eyes on her as she approached Jacko at the bar. The barman was giving a mobile number to whoever was on the phone.
"No worries mate," he said before he hung up.
"Good evening love," he said as he eyed her up and down. "You look like you need to dry off."
"Exactly what I was thinking," she said smiling.
"There is a bit of a bathroom just out the back if you want to towel yourself off," he turned to his mobile which beeped an incoming message.
He grabbed the keys from behind the bar and handed them to her. "Down the corridor and go through the dining room, it's the middle door on the right." "Cheers," she said and took the keys from him.
"I'll get you this first," the barman said as he poured her a beer.
Sharon sipped the amber nectar and went back to her bags at the table. When she turned back the barman was showing Jacko his mobile phone. Jacko laughed and sculled half his beer. Sharon could hear her phone ringing so she fished it out as she strolled down to the corridor. As she answered her phone Jacko was showing the barman's phone to his mates. It must have been some joke, Sharon thought.
"Hi darl," she said, "any luck?"
"Not much," he said. "None of the girls believed our tales."
"Bugger." She quickly looked back at the three men and gave them all the thumbs up. "Maybe they can come over tomorrow night?"
"You know that won't happen. It's taken this long to convince the girls that Stan was full of shit," Marcus had been working on them to allow the band to rehearse there for weeks, "They won't allow two nights in a row."
Sharon knew he was right. "I'm just going to get changed into yesterday's dress, I'm soaked."
"OK mate," he said, "take care and whatever you do, don't miss that next train."
"Bye," she dropped the phone back into the bag and headed through the dining room. She heard another phone ring in an office as she unlocked the door. The bathroom was small but serviceable. A fresh stack of towels was sitting on the vanity so she grabbed one and towelled down her hair. In her bag she had another small black dress she had worn to the meeting the day before. The mirror on the wall was grazed and cracked but from what she could see her make up looked ok. She unbuttoned the front of her dress and pulled it off. It clung to her like plastic wrap and her hair fell down over her face. Now she had on her semi damp underwear, and she decided to remove those as well. "No use having wet undies under my dry dress", she thought.
Standing in nothing but a pair of black high heels in a strange pubs bathroom excited Sharon more than she could really be expected to handle. Knowing that four virile men were just out in the lounge had her imagination going and her hands went down to her tingling pussy.
She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her finely cropped pubic hair before rubbing her swelling clit. Marcus and Sharon often discussed their fantasies and one of Sharon's, coincidentally, was to be banged in a pub by a bunch of strangers. Clichéd? Maybe, but really, what fantasies are original?  Their open relationship meant that, theoretically at least, with the others permission they could fuck anyone they liked. Was Marcus serious about picking up at the pub?  She grabbed yesterday's short black dress and quickly threw it on. The material was a little bit crushed but not so badly that it wasn't wearable. She didn't bother with the underwear, wearing yesterdays underpants didn't appeal at all. Wearing only a small black dress and a pair of black high heels she leant over the sink, found a semi decent portion of the mirror, and re-applied some fresh lip-stick.
Sharon was in two minds as to whether she should go ahead with the possibilities that presented itself. She only had fifty minutes before the next train and at home her husband was more than functional when it came to satisfying her carnal desires. Was she being greedy? Should she just finish her beer and go back to the station? Should she shag the four guys out in the bar? She needed to speak to Marcus so she grabbed her mobile and called him back.
The phone rang for a while before it went to the message bank so Sharon dropped it back into her handbag and gathered up her gear. The only thing that she could really do is go back into the bar, have a drink or two, and see what happens.
Once again as she entered the room the lads all spun around to greet her. Their eyes took in her delicious torso and the barman hung up the phone and grabbed a bottle of scotch down off the top shelf.
Sharon noticed that the curtains had been pulled down and some of the chairs were upside down on the tables.
"Are you locking up?" she asked the barman.
"Not much happens here on a Tuesday night," he said as he poured two glasses of Old Pultenay. "I reckon that you would be a bit of a scotch drinker," he added, "Would I be correct?"
"Well you never know what the wind can blow in," she said, "and yes Scotch is one of my favourites."
"Ice?" he asked.
"Definitely,"
Jacko grabbed a spare stool and sat it down next to the table. "Here you go," he said, "Come and plonk yourself down here."
The barman carried the two scotches over to the table and set them down. "These should warm the cockles of your heart," he said.
"And the heart of your...." she laughed.
"Ah well," he said, "you know what they say about whisky."
"What do they say?" Sharon asked as she took a gulp.
"Whiskey makes a lady frisky."
"Does it now." she took another gulp and felt the welcoming burn down her throat. "Maybe it does, or is it Brandy that makes us randy?" she coughed a little as it made its presence felt.
Sharon wiggled up onto the imitation suede stool and gyrated her arse into the lumpy padding to make a comfortable perch for herself. As she felt her damp labia brush the crusty old surface of the cushion she saw two of her companion's eyes pop open with eager discovery. She grinned when she realised she'd just exposed herself to the lads.
"Well hello there," one of them said with a truncated laugh.
"Oops. Apologies boys," she said looking at them through narrowed, hungry eyes as she readjusting herself. "My, um... my undies were wet.'
"Looked like it might still a little damp down there," said one of the guys with a nervous laugh.
"Shit, I missed it," another muttered glumly.
Sharon cast a quick glance around the faces of the men arrayed around her. They positively buzzed with checked desire; eager to take her but reluctant to push her too far too fast. They needed some help. "Well, I hate to hear that anyone got left out," she said as she pulled the hem of her dress up and let her thighs fall open as all four men bunched around her to gaze at her increasingly moist vulva. She shuddered as their stares lapped at her pussy like a physical force.
She knew where they were headed and in her heart she knew that without Marcus's consent what she was doing was not part of their agreement. However she gave no thought to stopping the proceedings; her lust was like gravity, pulling her down into a well of warm, delicious sin.
A hand settled on the small of her back and slid down over the top of her arse. She cocked an eyebrow in amusement as the man next to her turned to his mates and said, "I guess that explains the lack of panty lines boys." They all laughed.
"Is someone going to check my bra line too?" she asked with mock innocence as she raised her hands to lace her fingers together behind her head. Two different sets of hands reached in to find her tits. She began panting in anticipation as they lifted and squeezed her flesh. Other hands found her thighs and began running up towards her sex as her skin bloomed in goosebumps. Hands brushed across her tender labia as others slid down into her dress to tease and pinch her nipples.
"Oh Christ ma'am, you're so damn sexy," gasped one of them. There was a general mumbling of agreement.
The straps of her dress were slid from her shoulders as it was pushed down off her tits. Two of the workmen's faces found their way to her heaving mounds, lapping and tugging at her firm nipples with faces rough and scratchy with a day's worth of stubble. The sensation of their rough masculine faces tasting her tender flesh aroused her deeply; make her feel naughty and wanton as the workmen had their way with her. Her trembling lust spiked further when one of the men who had been massaging her legs and playing with her pussy stepped between her thighs and began to sink to his knees. She leaned back to eagerly accept his kiss on her pussy.
Unfortunately she had forgotten the stool had no back. With a squeak she felt herself toppling backwards but powerful, work-hardened hands grasped her flailing limps and propped her back onto her stool. Unfortunately, the near fall seemed to have broken the intensifying storm of lust they had been generating and the lads stepped back, forming a ring of aroused, florid faced men around her. Her dress was gathered into a mere belt of black fabric around her midsection and her companions looked over her exposed body with unconcealed desire.
"I declare," she said, feigning a southern US accent she had been playing around with since she and Marcus had watched "Gone With The Wind" on Blue-ray a week ago. "I don't consider it rightly fair that y'all are in your uniforms while I'm so cruelly exposed." She splayed her fingers across her upper chest in pantomimed distress.
Jacko aped her accent as best he could. "Well, dang-blast it. I reckon I mighten just start the ball then and remove my dungarees," he said as he unclasped his belt and pushed his pants to the floor.
"Do they say dungarees?" asked the man to the left of Sharon.
"Your devotion to accuracy is sadly misguided," she told him, still in character. "I'm much more interested in your devotion to showing me your manly root."
A couple of the guys laughed as they all commenced desperately tearing off their clothes in a flurry of flying fabric that erupted around her. As she watched with keen anticipation she noticed their uniforms for the first time. State Rail was stitched on the shirt pockets.
"You lads all rail workers?" she asked, dropping the fake accent.
"Yes sirree ma'am," the guy behind her said as he went back to pulling off his fluorescent yellow shirt..
"Well," she checked the time on the clock over the bar, "We don't have long before I need to get to the station, unless one of you guys can delay the train for a while."
"No way," Jacko laughed, "The paperwork's a killer."
The guys had shed their clothes and stood around her, naked but for their socks. Despite her entreaties to hurry things along they seemed frozen in place, unsure of how to recommence the orgy. She laughed as it occurred to her that they reminded her of four polite elderly aunts staring down at the last biscuit on a plate.
"You guys realise that I had expected you to have started fucking me by now," she laughed.
"Well, I hate to keep a lady waiting..." said Jacko as he moved up between her legs.
The spell was broken and the men swirling around her drew close to envelope her in a tide of probing, grasping hands and firm, prodding cocks. Her legs were pulled wide by the barman and one of the rail workers as Jacko pressed in to slide the firm length of his meat up along the furrow of her womanhood. She felt the electric thrill jolt through her body as his cock pushed up over her clit and then withdraw as he slowly bathed the underside of his unit in her rapidly gathering juices.
The adrenaline rushing through her body at this point was enough to fuel a small car. "Quit playing around and fuck me Jacko," she ordered.
"You're the boss," he said and she felt him push slowly into her wet and welcoming depths.
Her adrenaline surged through her in volumes fit to power a semi-trailer across the country. She gasped and settled into the arms of the man who had positioned himself behind her to play with her breasts. She felt his hard cock poking her between her shoulder blades as she leaned back into him. The guys who had been holding her legs wide for Jacko moved up to tower over her torso. She reached for their hard cocks bobbing over her body and began running her fingers expertly up the shafts, over the lip of the glans then back down again to stroke and cup their balls. They both moaned in tandem.
"Mmmm," she said, feeling a sharp twinge of guilt at abusing her treaty with Marcus. But her trepidation was drowned in a flood of sexual sensation as Jacko began ramming his cock into her with wild eyed gusto and the two men at her sides started slapping at her hard nipples with their cocks. Indeed the wrongness of what she was doing perversely drove her desire higher as she looked down to see a thin filament of pre-cum stretch back from her left nipple to the quivering head of the barman's prick.
"She's fucking gorgeous," said the barman.
"Wait 'til you climb inside mate," said Jacko with a lecherous grin. "This cunt's heaven."
"Hurry up Jack, we all need our turns," said the man to her right.
Sharon looked up at the clock again. Only twenty five minutes left. Shit.
"Here lie back," the man behind her said as he tucked another stool in beneath her back. She did, letting her head drop back so she came face to face with his cock. She regarded it from her upside-down vantage and gasped in approval. It was the largest of the group in both length and girth. Her opportunity to admire it's sleek masculine beauty was gone too soon as it pushed forward to  press against her mouth. She let her lips drop open and felt it push in along her tongue. Her whole being undulated in sublime ecstasy as she settled in to enjoy the feeling of two penises moving inside her at opposite ends of her body. "Fuck, we've a bit of luck tonight, eh boys?" one of them said as he grabbed her left breast and pulled on her nipple.
Sharon moaned around the cock in her mouth.
"Totally magnificent," the barman said as he pulled on her right nipple while slapping the underside of her tit with his iron-hard cock.
The pleasure she felt as the four men enjoyed her body was as intense as her first gangbang years ago. She remembered that night when Marcus and three others took turns using her body after a concert. The intensity of the pleasure had been a rebirth; an epic event that had changed her life and her relationship with Marcus for ever and for the better. But sadly, she had to hurry things along tonight. She now had under 20 minutes to get off and get back to the station.
Fortunately she could feel the orgasm coiling up within her like a watchspring. Her nipples grew from merely hard to rock solid and her pussy began to trill with the energy to approaching release. But, God damn it, Jacko couldn't read her the way Marcus could. He pulled his cock out and slapped the barman on the arm.
"Your go mate," said Jacko as he moved aside to stroke his wet cock.
Sharon groaned in exasperation. She drew her right hand down to rub along either side of her clit to try to catch the wave of her climax again as the barman slid easily inside her. But she could tell she had lost the propulsive urgency that would push her over the apex of pleasure; the fifteen minutes remaining to her weren't long enough to bring her to the crest. Shit.
Oh well, she thought as she struggled to suck air around the huge cock now pushing well back into the uncomfortable regions in the back of her mouth. I can at least give these boys a story no one will ever believe.
"She's really into it," said one of them. She had no idea who as her only view was an upside-down one of Mr. Fatcock's balls.
"Fuck her hard mate, that's what she wants," said another.
"Mmmmm Hmmmm," Sharon growled loudly.
"Hurry up, I want a turn at that pussy."
The barman gave her a few more pumps before pulling his cock out. Sharon could feel that her well used vagina was gaping open, eager and adorable as the third man stepped up to invade her. She arched her back in approval as he sunk into her.
"Give me a go of her mouth," the barman said to the one with the fat cock. "Me too," said Jacko as he joined the barman waiting for a go at her backwards hanging head. "Man this bird is hot. Wanna take turns?"
Fatcock stepped away and Sharon raised her head just enough to fix the barman and Jacko with a wild eyed glare and croak, "Come on, both of you." She let her head hang back and opened her mouth again in anticipation.
When she demanded his two mates fuck her in the mouth, the man throwing a wet, noisy fuck into Sharon's pussy lost his composure and pulled out of her just as his cock began to erupt. He sprayed a wild torrent of semen that showered pearly drops into her pubic hair, across her stomach and onto the fabric of her pushed up dress, where it soaked in to bloom outward into pale, milky polka dots.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck" he said as he furiously wanked the last of his seed onto her. Sharon reached up to rub the slimy, sticky spunk into her sweaty skin. God how she loves the feel of hot sperm smeared onto her flesh. Meanwhile, the two men positioned at her head began feeding their pricks into her mouth. They struggled to get their rhythm at first as they alternated sliding into her mouth, but soon they were thrusting their manhoods into her face like a well drilled team. The salty shafts still tasted of her own insides as minor flows of pre-cum dripped and stretched from their quivering cocks. Then she felt a fat hunk of meat pushing at her down below. She knew it must be Mr. Fatcock. If she was going to get off, it was going to have to be him.
"Yes, fuck me with that big dick," she said, throwing off Jacko and the barman's delicate rhythm. Before she knew it both cocks collided in her mouth, causing their owners to jump back in surprise.
"Yeah, I want both those beauties in my mouth at once," she said; the word "once" jumping in a frantic key of surprise as she felt the tender walls of her pussy stretched tight by Fatcock as he filled her completely with a single thrust. Her mouth dropped open in a feral gasp and, as she'd commanded, two cocks pried her mouth wide. She felt her world dissolve around her in a swirling paradise of thrusting, punishing meat.
"Guugg mmm hrrrr," she gulped around the cocks now roughly fucking her face. "What?" someone asked.
"Fuck," she said as both cocks slopped from her mouth in an explosion of spittle and pre-cum. "...Me," she croaked in the brief gap in time between Jacko's thrust to the back of her throat and the barman's. "...Harder!" she cried out past the two heads pushing at her sperm encrusted lips.
Fatcock understood the command and soon he was slamming relentlessly into her, nearly lifting her off the stools as he punished her pussy with energetic thrusts. It wasn't long before she sensed his desperate tremble and could hear the telltale catch in his breath as he tipped into release. He gurgled as he began pumping pulse after pulse of hot sperm deep into her womb before sagging forward with sated exhaustion. Sharon felt the stools beneath her scoot along the floor and nearly fall over beneath her.
Reacting out of man's vital instinct to keep one's privates out of the mouth of a woman about to fall and possible chomp down violently, Jacko and the barman jumped back. Fortunately the man who'd recently cum across her stomach was standing close trying to tempt his dick back to attention. He stepped forward to steady her on her teetering perch.
"Christ, I'm sorry," said Fatcock as he helped hold her. "But, fuck that was good."
"No problem..." Sharon panted. "Just help me down."
All four stepped close to help her off the two stools. She sunk into a crouched position between Jacko and the barman. She could feel slimy drips of cum oozing from her pussy to drip onto the carpeted floor of the bar. "You two will need to hurry up. I need to catch my train soon," she said with panting urgency as she pulled the straps of her dress back up onto her shoulders.
"I'm nearly there," said Jacko.
Sharon could see by his red, sweat-streaked face that he was probably only a few pulls away from climax. She reached up and brought his cock to her mouth. She let him slam his shaft well back into her mouth as the barman took hold of her head an pushed her forward onto Jacko's prick. She fought back a gag and let him brutally face fuck her.
Indeed, Jacko had been close. After only a dozen or so thrusts back past her tonsils he pulled his cock from her mouth and, gasping a throaty "Aaaaah," erupted onto her face. It must have been a week since he had last got off because insanely heavy jets of cum arched up across her forehead and deep into her hair, pumped across the bridge of her nose and spurted into her left eye causing her vision to go blurry under a burning flood of writhing sperm.
"Ouch that burns," Sharon started to say, but only got as far a "Ou..." before the barman thrust his cock into her mouth for his turn. Soon he was giving her the same treatment as Jacko, pushing far back into her mouth; testing her gag reflex while Jacko pushed her head deeper onto his mates cock on each thrust.
"Careful man, you might kill her," warned one of the men.
"Don't worry about her mate, she's got talent."
"Too bad she's got to leave, I could spend all night fucking that hot little cunt."
Sharon wished she could spend all night getting her hot little cunt fucked by these guys too. If she didn't have to worry about watching the clock she was sure she'd have come half a dozen times by now. If only she'd gotten a hold of Marcus to get his agreement on her little adventure. Maybe then she could justify it and spend the night on the beer soaked floor of this dank little railway bar getting rogered in every hole until she was awash in jizz. A damn fucking pity, that.
"Unggh," the barman said as he took hold of her hair and held her face back from his purpled, twitching head. She left her mouth hanging open, waiting for his flood. He came almost immediately, filling her mouth with his musky essence until it flowed from the corners of her mouth to hang from her chin, splat against her chest and run down into her heaving cleavage. As he withdrew unsteadily on shaking knees she swallowed his load, enjoying the feeling of his warm spunk sliding into her belly.
Sharon turned her head to look up at the clock but encountered Fatcock holding up his phone towards her. Out of habit she smiled; throwing him a sparkling grin through her cum smeared lips and teeth as he snapped a picture.
"You've been taking pictures?" she said, wondering which horrid website she was likely to show up on this week.
"Just a few dozen," said Fatcock sheepishly.
"More like a dozen dozen," laughed Jacko.
"That's gross," said the barman but no one picked up on the pun.
She was about to warn Fatcock that he'd better blur her face if he was planning to post those pictures, but he stepped to the side and revealed the clock. She was out of time.
She climbed to her feet and quickly smoothed out her dress with her hand. Her fingers encountered several speckles of still-warm jism. God, I must smell like a used condom, she thought. Oh well, not much I can do about that now.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you boys, but really I have to run," she said quickly.
"Jacko, you parked out front, be a good lad and give her a lift to the station," Mr Fatcock said.
The barman had gone to the bar and had brought over a Railway Hotel tea towel for her to clean up with.
"Thought you might like a souvenir," he said.
"Wow," Jacko said, "A cheap shit tea towel."
She thanked him anyway and wiped the cum off her face and cleavage.
"The next time I come up," she looked them up and down "I might pop in."
"Please do," the barman said. "Give us a call. The numbers on the tea towel." "Not such a stupid souvenir after all," the other bloke said as he whacked Jacko in the arm.
"I'll be here," Mr Fatcock said.
"I'm looking forward to it already," she smiled and looked at the clock, then at Jacko, "we should go."
Her handbag had spilled all over the floor. Her wallet, make-up, car keys and the other hundred or so items that are concealed in a woman's handbag were all splayed across the filthy carpet. She had shovelled her paraphernalia back into her bag when she saw her unfinished whiskey on the table. In one quick motion she grabbed it and threw it down. The warmth flooded through her body and she once again considered staying the night to enjoy her new friends properly. But she let the idea slip away.
"We'll be off then," she turned with Jacko just as one of the lads had received a call on his phone. He held his hand up, urging them to stop, "You've a few minutes Jacko, Rusty's running a bit late."
Jacko gave him the thumbs up and hustled her into the twin cab ute parked out the front.
The wind and rain was almost cyclonic and once again she stuck to the seat as she climbed in. Her well used pussy almost winked at Jacko.
"I ought to stop making a habit of this," she straightened the hem of her dress back down over her nether regions. "Thanks for this," she said. "Thanks for that," Jacko said and smiled down at her waist. "Your husband is a lucky man.'
Sharon smiled back but something about his statement wasn't quite right. The twin cab tore up the road and pulled into the staff car park right next to the platform.
"I'll open the gate and you can hop straight onto the platform." Jacko said. "You have a ticket don't you?"
"All organised," she said as she grabbed all her bags and tied her hair back.
"Good," he said as he separated one key from all the others, "let's go."
They flung the door open and Jacko quickly unlocked the gate and let Sharon through onto the covered platform, just as the train came into view.
"Nice timing," she said. "Thanks again."
"Not a problem," he closed the gate, "See you later Sharon."
That was when she realised what the problem was. She had never told them her name nor whether or not she was married. She didn't wear her wedding ring as neither did Marcus. So how did they know? Her bag was with her at all times and unless they snuck a peek at her wallet as they were fucking her... suddenly panic set in. She recalled how her handbag had been dis-engorged over the floor, Had they ripped her off?. Her heart beat tripled as she took a fitful breath and quickly pulled her wallet out of her bag. Her hands were shaking in time with the vibrations of the platform as she clawed her way through her red purse. With a slow release of breath, she was relieved to find they were all as she had left them.
As the train screeched into the station, carrying with it a fine spray of water, Jacko reversed out and she was in no position to ask.


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