The Boy on The Grass
- 3 years ago
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He was thrusting in to me nice and hard, whatever his name was, his mate was impatiently waiting his turn. It was dark behind the Disco and the grass was slightly damp, not the perfect place to have sex, but I didn't have much of a choice. This is as far as I got before I was unceremoniously dumped on to my back, my knickers pulled off and his hard cock thrust into me.
"Come on mate," his companion urged, "it's bloody freezing out here."
"Yeah, I nearly there," he said breathlessly. Your nearly there what about me you bastard. I detected his change in rhythm and knew he was about to come, I pushed hard, grinding my hips against him; I felt him flood into me. He pulled out and I felt a draft of freezing cold air on my naked thighs, but his mate unzipped and plunged into me; his hand painful on my boobs.
"Not so hard, please be gentle," I asked.
"Shut up slut," he snarled back at me, thrusting even harder into me. Any enjoyment I was experiencing from this coupling was now gone, I just had to endure until he too had come inside me.
Thanks slut," he threw down at me, I closed my legs and let them walk away. Shit I did it again, my ability to pick a bastard was unerring. My knickers were nowhere to be found, shit and double shit, the bastards must have taken them too. I made myself presentable and went back inside to find my friend Shirley.
"How was it?" she asked.
"Fucking awful," I said, trying to smile, "you think by now I would have learned."
"Fucking bastards," she sympathise, "here turn around, you've got grass on the back of your dress."
"Thanks," I said letting her brush me down, "don't you sometimes think about giving men up Shirl?"
"Don't be mad," she laughed, "what would a pair of slappers like us do without them."
"Well we could do a lot worse, now could we," I said.
"Yeah, but wouldn't you miss a nice hard one now and again," she chuckled.
"Sometimes I wonder," I mused, "you can buy all sorts of rubber cocks these days."
"Wouldn't be the same though," she said.
"Yeah, always be hard for you, wouldn't hit you or leave you wanting," I said with feeling.
"Well there is that," she said, "talking about hard one, will you look at those two guys."
"Shirley," I said, "I've had enough for one night, please."
"Don't be wet," she scoffed, "look they are coming over, breathe in and stick your tit out."
"Ladies, care for a drink?" the taller one asked.
"Sure," replied Shirley before I could say no; she took his arm leaving me with the other one. His name was Morris, not that I cared one way or another, I had my fill of men tonight, but it looked like Shirley was still up for it.
"Come on Clare," she pleaded with me, "lets go back to their place." What the fuck is she doing, but I was dragged off for more drinks and frolics. As soon as the door closed behind us, the giggling Shirley was pulled into one of the bedrooms, leaving me alone with Morris; what sort a name it that. It was easier to lie down and spread my legs than to fight off his roving hands. Compare with the bastards earlier he was a good lover, not that it said much. He was spurting into me long before I was ready and for the third time in the evening and I was left unsatisfied; men suck. From the noise Shirley was making, she was at least was enjoying herself, why is it always me that get the fucking useless cunts.
By the time Shirley had finished with her guy, me and Morris had exhausted all topics in common and no thank you, I didn't want to fuck again, moron.
"How was yours?" she asked.
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