Sheryl and her perfect life
- 2 years ago
- 63
- 0
Sheryl's StoryChapter 4 free porn video
From that night on, I changed. My re-introduction to men had been perfect. Scott had been the consummate lover. Now he was gone. In an attempt to make up for the loss, I began looking for quantity rather than quality. With it I began drinking more, no longer caring who had me, just so long as there was physical contact, and a pretence of caring.
Joel's performance did improve, and we had many good times together. On my bed, the back lawn, his car or anywhere that seemed right at the time. I for one didn't care. We saw a lot of each other, and we got on well, but we were users. It was an unspoken agreement we had, we were together for the sex, nothing more.
Gradually the word spread that I was an easy lay, and I began to be asked to party's in some of the strangest places, always with Joel in tow. He accepted what I was doing, and as long as he took me home and got a bit, everything else I did was okay.
I had read somewhere that hate breeds hate, now I knew whoever wrote it was right. I had also read somewhere, that to turn your life around you had to reach rock bottom. Little did I know how soon that would happen?
The weeks turned into months. As each week passed, I began drinking more, smoking more, loosing control over my body. I was now a welcoming pit for all comers. I hated myself for what I'd become, but was unable to stop the downward spiral. Sue was the only one in the house that knew what was happening to me. Many a night after I had come home, stoned, drunk, and used, did she creep into my room to comfort me. Mum tried to help, but all she got for her troubles was abuse, then when I'd cooled down, I hated myself for the things I'd said.
Hate, hate, hate. That was what my world had become. I didn't approve of what I had grown to be. I hated what the guys did to me. I hated anyone that tried to help me, but most of all I hated myself.
Joel had been invited to a party. For once, he was reluctant to take me, but using my feminine wiles, I got him to change his mind. "If I leave early, then I want you to come with me, I'm not sure about this lot."
Of course, I would have promised him anything, but once I was there, I would make up my own mind.
We arrived early, and for the life of me, I couldn't see what he was worried about. There was an almost even mix of males and females, and everyone seemed nice. The booze flowed, and I was having a great time. Even Joel seemed to be enjoying himself.
Around ten, things changed, an elaborate water pipe appeared. One with many mouthpieces, and a rather large bowl. Joel found me. "Be careful of that," he said indicating the bong. "It will have hash in it, and it will knock your socks off."
I thanked him for the warning, but I was already too far gone to heed him. In the end, I would have to try it. Tonight proved to be one of Joel's lucky nights. Not long after giving me the advice, a rather attractive female who he'd been working on, dragged him off to a bedroom. With him out of the way, I was invited into the group. For a while, I declined their offer to try it, but eventually succumbed to the temptation. As with everything I did of late, I over did it, and was soon off my face. Everything was funny. Every touch stirred the fire between my legs. One guy whose name I never knew was paying me particular attention, something in my present state I found exciting.
Knowing he had my undivided attention, he stood and held out his hand. "Come with me," he ordered.
As I followed him, I didn't see the knowing looks exchanged between the others.
He led me to the darkened kitchen. I had no idea what he'd planned, and for that matter, didn't care. Just so long as he satisfied my itch. What began as a passionate embrace soon turned brutal, but in the mood I was in, it was what I wanted. With one hand, he undid his trousers, letting them drop to the floor, and then removed mine. Picking me up, he put me on the table, my legs over his shoulders. Then with little warning, he entered me. Hard, forcefully, driving in to his full length. I went off time after time, as he continued. This was not going to be a quickie. Another chap joined us, already naked from the waste down, his erection preceding him. He stood watching, then without warning ripped my top open, sending buttons flying everywhere, and then kneading my breast in a rough way, pushed his erection to my mouth.
I did as he wanted as the first of the alarm bells sounding in my stupefied brain.
One after the other they had me, their girlfriends encouraging them. The minute one finished, there was another to take his place. What had begun as fun, was now frightening, I was at their mercy. I wanted them to stop, but when I asked them to, they laughed. "Why? We're having fun."
Fun for them perhaps, but not for me. They came in me, in my mouth, on me, degrading me in every way they could think of.
Fear had removed the last effects of what I'd smoked, now all I wanted to do was get to hell out of there. During a lull in their so-called fun, I made a dash for freedom, but I didn't run far. I hid, expecting them to come after me.
For half an hour, I stayed in hiding, my button-less top wrapped around me, my knickers still on the kitchen floor. Happy no one was looking for me I hurried home, constantly looking over my shoulder, in fear I was being followed. Half an hour later and I was safe.
I had to shower. There was no way I could go to bed in my present state. Once physically clean, I curled up in the safety of my bed, and began to cry. Everything I had done since Scott's death came flooding back, culminating in what happened. What I had become was not what he would have liked. He would not have liked me to wear widow's-weeds and remain celibate, but I knew he would frown on what I had been doing.
Sue heard me crying and came into my room. "A bad night?"
I nodded, "the worst imaginable."
She got into bed with me, and held my trembling body, my head resting on her shoulder. That was how we stayed until I had cried myself to sleep.
For the next two weeks, I was not at home to anyone that called. I stayed in my room, attempting to sort out my life. I needed a job, something that would get me out of the house, and give me less time to think of how I had stuffed things.
Quite by accident, Paul met a chap by the name of Steve during one of his infrequent visits to the hotel, and they began talking. Steve was a painter, and in need of someone to help him.
"I don't suppose a female would be of any use to you?" Paul asked.
"I don't see why not. I'm not looking for someone to paint. Just someone to keep in front of me so I don't have to keep stopping."
"My sister Sheryl is looking for work."
"Do you think she would be interested? I have to warn you, I can't afford to pay much."
"I'll talk to her tonight."
Steve handed Paul his card. "Tell her to ring my mobile tomorrow if she's interested."
With that interesting interlude over, the two parted. When Paul handed me Steve's card and explained what he was looking for, I became excited, my first time in the work force. Assuming I could do the work.
Nine o'clock the next morning I rang Steve's number. By the end of our conversation, I had the job. As Paul had warned me, the pay wasn't much, but at least I'd be out of the house and doing something. Sue was pleased for me; she knew the anguish I had been going through since the night I would rather forget.
Mum and dad were pleased as well, although they thought I could do better. As I explained, this was here and now, and would perhaps lead to something better. They saw the sense in what I said. It was always easier to get a job if you already had one.
Eight o'clock the following morning and Steve was waiting for me. I'd packed my lunch and made a thermos of coffee, just like a real working girl. I was excited and nervous, this was our first meeting, and after the introductions, we drove to the house he was working on.
Pulling into the driveway, we got out and went inside. It was vacant, and he had the inside and outside to do, and we would probably be there for two weeks. Not only did he have to paint it, but also do small repairs as he went. He showed me where he kept his stuff, and explained what he wanted me to do. For the moment, there seemed very little, but as I watched, I realised what he was doing. From here on it would be for me to do. Stirring the paint, putting the drop sheets down, positioning his ladders.
While he showed me, I took stock of him. Shorter than me, lean but muscular, dark hair that needed cutting, and definitely not the most handsome male I'd seen. He had a quick effortless way of getting things done.
By the end of the first week, I had the hang of what he wanted, and we worked well together. During our breaks, I found out he was married, with two young boys. I also discovered he had a roving eye, nothing sneaky behind my back, but blatantly taking in my charms. I didn't mind, I knew I was pretty, and had a nice body. Why shouldn't he notice me?
Life at home was great. My new outlook on life impressed everyone. Paul and Sue began taking me out with them. Mum and dad began talking to me again. Not that they'd really stopped, but they had been constantly warning me about the way my life was going. Now with my new job to talk about, they showed an almost excessive interest.
With the first month behind me, Steve and I were working well together. He began to relax, talking about his home life, his wife Karen, and his kids. More and more another couple were mentioned. She was a long time friend of his and Karen's. They'd only known her new partner since she'd moved in with him. The more he talked about them, the more I began to think there was more to this story than he was telling. I had the feeling he knew her rather well. Now I actively encouraged him to talk about them, in an attempt to fathom their relationship.
It seemed they lived an hour out of town on a small farm. The usual thing, a couple of horses, a few cows, and an idyllic lifestyle, and as I had guessed, been together for the last year. Apart from that, he was tight lipped.
Time for me to satisfy my curiosity. "You've been screwing her, haven't you?"
He looked at me, and then blushed, something I found cute. "For years. Even while she was still married."
"What does her partner think of that, or doesn't he know?"
"Oh he knows. When we are together, we share her. If they're at our place, he chaperones Karen while we have our fun."
Arisha
- 20.01.2022
- 39
- 0
Sheryl s Experience at the Edgewater
- 4 years ago
- 74
- 0
Sheryl and the Straitjacket Incident
- 3 years ago
- 40
- 0
