Taking The Back Way

Taking The Back way

ONE

Honestly, I didn't think of myself as pretty. When I looked at myself I saw a flat chest and ginger hair I couldn't straighten no matter how much heat I applied. Worse, freckles. They had plagued me as a child and although fainter, they were still there, always threatening to burst forth with vengeance when I got hot and agitated. Something which was always on my mind on the rare occasions I had sex.

It wasn't all bad though. I was aware people liked my legs. Again I thought my thighs were too thick and my arse too big. But it always seemed to be that arse which attracted men. It certainly wasn't my tits.

I'd only been in the bar an hour and two had already tried their luck, sliding an open palm over my buttocks. I didn't come here for that. Treat me nice and I could be persuaded to be a naughty girl. I had needs like everyone. Just no boyfriend to address them. So yeah, I wasn't against a quick shag if the mood was right. Touching up my arse wasn't the way to go about it.

I mainly went to the pub as an escape from the same four walls. One drink and sitting back to watch the world go by as I imagined a better future. Imagining was something I'd been doing since before I could remember.

I did this most Fridays. In the back of my mind was always the hope I might meet someone. Never expecting that I would. Other girls were at clubs or doing exciting things where they met people. I couldn't afford it. Especially not now.

Occasionally I'd been picked up. This was where I'd found my few shags. Not my most glorious moments. Young lads that had made me laugh and been rewarded with a fumble in the alley out back, or in their car. None of them had wanted any more than to get off and I'd grown to accept the disappointment. That was now how I looked at lads. I didn't have a high opinion of myself and accepted I should make do with what I could get.

Boys weren't on my mind currently as a change in my circumstances had given me more to worry about. I'd lost my job a few weeks before, so this had become a place to drown my sorrows over the one glass of coke I could find spare change for. A little time I wasn't staring at the same four walls wondering if I'd have even those torn away from me before too long.

More than most Fridays I was wallowing in self-pity, seeing prettier girls in nice dresses flirting with hunky youths wishing it was me. So much so that I hadn't noticed that I'd caught someone's attention.

"I've been watching you making that drink last an awfully long time."

I looked up to find I'd attracted the attention of some posh-looking twat in a suit. Thirty-ish and not unpleasant on the eye. But way out of my league.

"So?"

"I just wondered if you'd like it topped up. You know, so you can actually leave here later without a thirst."

He had a nice smile.

"Are you offering?"

I softened. Perhaps he'd keep me company. And supply me with free drinks.

"I think I can stretch to that, if you let me join you."

I laughed.

"I think I can stretch to that, for a gin."

"Then we have a deal."

Yeah. He did look good from behind as well. I watched him go to the bar. He was confident. And that suit had a nice cut. Casual, but with class. He didn't belong here.

"So what's your story?" He asked returning with my drink.

"Attractive young lady like you sitting inside on a fine summer evening, all alone. Got to be a story."

I'd never been called a lady before.

"I'm not alone. I'm with you."

I lifted my fresh drink and was delighted by feeling the bite in my throat of alcohol I couldn't afford.

We chatted for a while and I found myself warming to him. He was a bit of a charmer. And he made me laugh. It wasn't long before I started to think he'd make a pass. I thought it best to freshen up just in case. I hadn't decided I would, but I had decided to keep my options open. It'd been a while, so maybe. Just maybe.

"Back in a minute. Ladies room."

I slipped out from under the table and headed for the toilets.

I could lay odds that he was looking at my arse. He would be another one who only liked me because of my butt. No one ever said nice tits, or I like your freckles. But then that was my only asset in my mind.

When I returned he confirmed what I'd thought.

"You have the most wonderful backside."

"Do I indeed."

Cheeky bugger.

"Just thought I'd mention it. I have a thing for a nice derrière."

"There's a few like you."

I smirked, hiding behind my glass. At least he liked me for something. The question was, would he want to shag me? I was seriously considering it. I hadn't had sex in nearly a year and his attention was waking parts of me that had given up and accepted lifelong celibacy. If the night ended well, I was pretty sure that I'd be getting it from behind. I wondered if he had a nice car.

"Oh. I don't think you'll find many quite like me.

I only want to look at it."

"Excuse me?"

I was confused. What was he talking about?

"I want to see it in all its glory."

"You just want to look at my arse? What do you want me to do? Walk back and forth for you?"

"No. What I mean is, really see it. Without the jeans."

My opinion switched from him being a possible to classing him as a weirdo to be avoided.

"I don't think so."

"What if I paid you?"

"You can fuck off."

"One hundred pounds just to have you lower your jeans and let me admire it?"

"What if you just do one?"

My angry response didn't dissuade him.

"To have such a beautiful feature and not share it with an admirer to appreciate is a crime against nature.

One hundred and fifty, but I want to touch as well."

Every fibre of my being told me to tell him where he could get off, but one tiny part of my brain was crying out with a reminder of how precarious my bank balance was. All for just looking. And maybe putting his hands on it. I wouldn't even have to fuck him, and Christ, I'd been considering that only a moment ago. Would it be so terrible?

"Show me the money," I said hesitantly.

My head went into a spin as he took out his wallet and started counting out ten-pound notes. He was fucking serious. Should I just do it? Take the money, let him have his perverted thrill, and run?

"Just looking?"

I wanted confirmation. I wasn't so keen on having his cock near me any longer. Especially as I was realising he might not want to put it where it was intended to go.

"Looking. And touching. Just my palms on your sweet buttocks. That's all. Perhaps a squeeze."

I shuddered. I wanted to feel revulsion. My clit was throbbing, reminding me that I'd been starved of attention, suggesting that this could be a thrill. Christ. Why did the only person in this bar to notice me have to be a weirdo? And why did he have to look good enough that I'd been tempted? And he seemed so nice as well.

"I'm not dropping my underwear. That's assuming I agree to it. Which I haven't."

"How much do you earn an hour?"

"I don't. I lost my job. Redundancy."

"Oh. Sorry.

I was thinking minimum wage or just over. So this would be nearly a day and a half's work. All for letting me see your lovely cheeks for five minutes.

I don't know what unemployment benefit is, but I imagine a hundred and fifty pounds would make life a little sweeter?"

"His hand slid the money closer, tempting me to accept.

"It would."

I looked at him closer. He still seemed a nice man. Just one with a fetish he was prepared to pay me to indulge.

"I'm not someone who sells myself for money."

"I'm not suggesting you do. I'm only asking that you do little more than a model would do, for which it's only right I reward you."

"Models pose for a camera. They don't ... do whatever this is."

"Models pose with male models who hold them and touch where they are directed.

Think of it as a modelling exercise. One where you push your arse out instead of pouting or posing as if you're inviting a man into bed."

I shrugged.

"But they do it because they're being ..."

I stuttered to a halt realising I was going to say paid. That's what he was offering to do. Only no camera.

"Those male models don't get off on it." I settled for.

"Are you sure? Must be hard to look at a scantly clad young lady and not get a hard-on. I bet they tape it on their leg before the camera rolls."

I laughed at that image. His smile and pleasant manner slowly pulled me back into his orbit.

"I just want to admire you." He tried again.

"Somewhere private."

I wasn't going anywhere with him. But there was somewhere I could call out from if he turned creepy. Somewhere I'd used before. A hundred and fifty pounds. It was hard to turn down such easy cash.

"Okay. You get to look. And you can touch. But my knickers stay firmly in place and your hands don't wander.

Clear?"

"As day."

I gave one last chance for the angel in my head to find a valid counterargument to the devilish side of me. It remained stubbornly silent.

Picking up the cash, my decision was made.

"Come with me."

I felt slutty leading him out of the pub. More than when I knew I was going to get on my knees to suck cock. Involving money was partly the reason for that. But also because I was an object of this man's fetish. Everyone else I'd made this short journey with had been normal, intent only on emptying their balls in, or on me. It'd also been very much for my own gratification. That desire to feel wanted for a short while. And to get off on something not made of plastic. I was getting nothing from this act. Other than cash. I felt a little sick at myself.

"Down here."

Following the alleyway to the rear of the pub with this man I was reminded of freaks who wore baby nappies or gimp suits. Strange people with abnormal sexual behaviours who I would run a hundred miles from. Only his placid, calming way had stopped me from screaming at him to go away.

We reached the little closed-off back area and I watched him looking around.

It was a cool evening outside after the long hot day. Still and quiet as the twilight took hold. I had led him to the tiny courtyard behind the pub. More than one guy had shagged me down here. I wasn't proud of it. Drunken fucking with boys who hadn't wanted to know me after.

"It's private and clean," I said.

Very clean. The lack of discarded condoms only ever served to make me think I was the only slut who still did it in alleyways. Sometimes, I hated myself.

"No one comes out here apart from to dump the empty the barrels after closing."

There were a dozen of them stacked ready for collection, making an extra barrier to block us from sight if anyone chose tonight to prove me wrong. It was private. But close enough to civilisation that a healthy scream would attract attention if he turned out to be a dangerous weirdo.

"And I'm not going anywhere else with a stranger."

His attention returned to me and I quivered as he smiled. He was always smiling.

"It's okay. I left the duct tape and rope in my car."

"Don't even joke about that."

I looked around at the red brick walls towering around us. The backs of retail buildings with boarded windows that the final rays of the setting sun still succeeded in filtering daylight into.

"So what do you want me to do?"

Get it over with I told myself. Satisfy his fascination for my butt and go home a little more secure for a few days. Perhaps tomorrow would be the day I found a job.

"Turn around and face the wall."

I wasn't keen on turning away from him. I felt as if I was turning my back on my rapist. But then I also wasn't keen on having him in my face with his arms reaching around me.

My clit was throbbing and might not have complained too much if he had raped me. My head thought otherwise and I was very conscious of him stepping up close behind me.

I stared at the red bricks with my breaths deepening and my heart racing. Arousal rising for no reason I could fathom.

"Would you lower your jeans please."

So polite. That just made it stranger than ever. Again I did what he wanted, wiggling my hips to pull the tight denims over my hips. I pushed them down to my knees and stood there with just a thong to retain what little dignity I had. It didn't escape my notice that I'd be in trouble if I had to run.

"I'm not taking my underwear off and you only touch my cheeks." I reiterated.

"No wandering hands."

"Terms have already been accepted."

I waited nervously for that first touch.

"Put your hands on the wall."

I felt as if I was being told to 'assume the position' by an American traffic cop.

"Huh."

The first touch was of finger gently dragging over the back of my thighs, sliding upwards until he could grasp my butt cheeks in his palms. One very obvious continuous movement that had the adrenaline rushing through my veins. I remained stoic as he squeezed me. He was so close behind me. I could hear his tiny, excited gasps.

"I do like these. Nature has blessed you with a wonderful bum."

I said the only thing that came to me, conscious of the shudder in my voice.

"I think it's too big."

"It's perfect."

He crouched down, his face directly behind my arse. My face burned at the thought he could see how wet I was becoming, soaking what there was of my underwear. He'd be able to smell it.

"Push your arse out."

I took a step back so that I bent slightly forward and the wall took my full weight. My heart was pounding.

Another squeeze and a gentle up-and-down wobble as he stared at what I imagined was the biggest, rounded arse in the world. I wished it was a tight little butt. Boyish. But I was stuck with it. It was what nature had given me. And it probably wasn't anywhere near as big as I imagined.

"Uh."

I could feel his breath on me. Everything down there was suddenly alive, sensitive to the slightest stimulus. It made my lips quiver, adding to the raggedness of my breathing.

"Uhh."

I'd be a liar if I didn't admit it was incredibly arousing to have his fingers so close to my pussy. He stuck to his word though. Only my arse was touched. The tops of my thighs and my hips as well, but while his fingers ventured close, they never strayed onto that soft, hot meat soaking the tiny piece of material covering it.

"Fuck."

I was twitching, my legs were weak as he continued. I feared that I might suddenly cum if he didn't stop.

"Feels good for both of us doesn't it."

I refused to answer as he glided his hands over my cheeks, caressing and massaging me.

"Mmm."

It was impossible not to moan with pleasure. It felt daring and exposing. Sensuous and risqué. I swallowed back the rising excitement. My whole body was trembling.

"It's so smooth and firm. Simply perfect."

Then he stopped. No warning. He just took his hands away and stood up.

"Thank you.

That was very nice."

I'm not sure what I'd expected him to say, but it wasn't that. All very polite. I pulled my jeans back into place quickly and turned back to see him standing nonchalantly, watching me. Was he even aroused?

"Yeah. Well. I don't normally do things like this."

I was embarrassed and making excuses. I wanted him to go away so I could just settle the conflicting thoughts in my head.

"I like innocence." He said.

I stared at him, wondering what that meant. It didn't matter. I'd put this from my mind after tonight. A foolish dalliance for a few pounds because the opportunity was too good to turn away. No savings and a paltry income that didn't even cover my rent had given me little choice.

I'd made my excuses after we'd left the alley and rushed away, wanting to forget the whole unsettling incident. The problem was, I couldn't forget it. I was a young girl with needs that weren't so often met. And never with any meaning.

Even such an out-there experience as that had my hormones raging. Laying in bed with sleep refusing to come, I sunk my fingers into the warm wetness of my pussy and let a fantasy that I'd never wish for in my life take hold of me.

"Huh. Fuck."

I imagined myself back in the alley. I could still hear the man's voice. I could smell his aftershave. I imagined he had taken hold of me, and pressed me to the wall. I let my head run the image of him forcing me to submit. Of having him fuck me as I screamed for help that didn't come.

"Oh god."

I rolled onto my belly and rubbed my pussy and clit frantically, my other hand went behind me and clasped my butt cheek, bringing the fresh memory of having my arse felt up back to life.

I brought myself to orgasm with lightning speed.

"Uh. Fuck."

I slept better that night than I had since receiving my redundancy letter.

TWO

"Not you again?"

"Mind if I buy you a drink?"

I really hadn't expected to see him again and I feared what he would want this time. I also remembered how helpful his money had been. It was another week and two things remained the same. I still had no job and my account was empty once more empty from paying another week's rent. A free drink was welcome, even from the weirdo.

"Gin. Thanks."

He sat opposite me with a natural nonchalance after fetching fresh drinks. We'd look like friends to anyone glancing us over.

"I don't even know your name."

"Ambrose."

I sniggered.

"Sorry. It's a bit posh.

Makes me think of Ambrosia custard."

"And you think I didn't hear that joke at school?"

"Sorry. Again.

Do posh kids make fun of people like that?"

"Kids are kids. They're all evil."

"Not a fan then?"

"Not particularly. I didn't enjoy school. It was a boarding school. Sent away. Home only for the holidays. I got the exams I needed and continued my education on my terms."

"University?"

"Yes. A much more pleasant experience.

What about you?"

I hesitated. Did I want to tell this man much about myself? I was generally very guarded.

"I was rarely in school long enough to decide if I did or didn't like it."

I gulped back a mouthful of gin for courage.

"I'm an orphan. Passed from foster parent to foster parent and moved around schools until I was sixteen. School for me was less a place of education and more somewhere I was stored during working hours. I was the angry girl who kicked out at everyone. Until eventually, I figured it was just better to get on with it.

I've done better than most. I know other girls that turned to drugs, slept around and ended up with unwanted kids, or selling themselves to pay for the next hit."

I cringed at the memory of taking his money. And with homelessness looming, perhaps I was just taking the scenic route to the same destination.

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty. Nearly twenty-one.

"And work?"

I shrugged.

"Sore subject."

"Still no luck?"

"Nope. Still one of the great unwashed."

"What did you do?"

"Supermarket. Shelf stacking. But they made redundancies. I was one of the first out with less than two years service. A week's pay and a thank you."

"And no one to fall back on."

"That's about the size of it. I have rent to pay. Bills. A fucking prepayment meter, it's a thieving money guzzler. It's empty now. And I have to buy food."

I looked around.

"I come here once a week just to feel normal. A coke I can't afford and ..."

"A hope your knight in shining armour will come along."

"Yeah. I suppose."

I smirked.

"Instead, I got a weird guy in his thirties with an arse fetish."

He smiled, unashamed of his wacky sexual behaviour. I regretted immediately that I'd given him another opening.

"I'll double the money if you let me see your starfish."

"Ha.

No fucking way."

"Three hundred. Just to look. No knickers this time."

Jesus. Three hundred. What I could do with that.

"No," I said, failing to instil enough finality.

"Easy money. And it seems you could do with it."

I thought about that empty electricity meter waiting for me when I went home. Cold water and no TV.

"You really are weird. What on earth makes you think I'm going to let you look at me naked?"

"You won't be naked."

"The important bits will be."

He sipped his drink, still with that smile, as if he was confident I'd fold.

"It's just a mutually beneficial transaction. You get something you need. I get something I need. What's the harm?"

A fucking lot. But he was right. And how much worse would it be? A thong hadn't been the most modest of garments. Soaked in my juice it would have clung tightly to my body. Moulded around every detail of my pussy and hardly covering the hole he wanted me to display now. I reasoned he'd pretty much seen all there was to see already.

"Just looking?" I asked.

"A maybe a little touch."

"Hundred and fifty last week. Three hundred this week.

Are you rich or something?"

"Comfortable."

He looked smug. I was certain he was more than comfortable. I toyed with the dregs of my drink deciding I should push for another one.

"Buy me another gin first."

I trembled as he went to the bar. A strange sensation. Disgust at myself tinged with an excitement I shouldn't have felt. What would he be seeing? Nothing others hadn't seen, if not quite so directly. I'd had around nine men in my life. All one-time-only events. A few had done me doggy style so they would have had a good view of that hole. Was it any different?

A little under an hour later I took Ambrose into the same alley, with my legs shaking.

"Never tell anyone about this," I said firmly as I made one last check we wouldn't be disturbed.

He put his finger to his lips in a shushing action.

"Our secret."

I was looking into his eyes for any sense he'd betray me. He looked strangely trustworthy. I turned away, to the wall just like before. I knew the routine this time and didn't wait for instructions.

"And no taking pictures."

"Mary." He sounded offended.

"I wouldn't dream of betraying your trust."

Trust wasn't something I had a lot of.

I reached under my skirt and pulled my panties down, lifting them away over my ankles. I half expected him to ask for them as a souvenir, but he didn't. I stuffed them into my bag along with the money and put my hands on the wall, just as before. I wasn't proud. In fact, I was horrified at myself. I was continually trying to justify my actions, but it was still a slippery slope into a world I didn't want to be part of.

"Happy?"

I was trying to sound defiant. As if I was in control. I wasn't. I was giving up any sense that I was a respectable girl, knowing that wherever I ended up in life, this would be a memory that haunted me.

"Very."

He lifted my skirt until it sat over my tiny waist. Cooler air tickled my bare pussy, adding to the already unwanted arousal that grumbled away between my thighs. Ambrose knelt behind me. Holy fuck. He was examining me in detail. I shuddered and reddened, my face colouring to match my hair.

"Part your feet a little, please."

I swallowed back my discomfort. If I did that, I would be totally exposed. He'd see my wetness. And my god, I was wet. I did it anyway.

"Oh my. So beautiful. Amazing."

He touched my thighs and I gulped as the tips of his fingers traced the line under my buttocks until I shook uncontrollably at their proximity to my pussy.

"So smooth and firm. Such a well-defined curve."

I rolled my eyes.

"Get on with it."

He caressed my butt with his palms before gently gripping my cheeks to part them.

"Hmm."

He was staring straight at my crinkled little butt hole. My starfish as he called it. I felt it clenching involuntarily as the cooler air found that as well. My pussy gushed even more in response.

"So tiny. So tight."

He sounded fascinated. His entire attention was only on that one hole even when my pussy was right there. Soft flesh, all wet and wet.

"Uhh."

I jolted like a bucking stallion when he pressed his finger to it. The muscle was jumping excitedly under his digit. A dance to entertain his strange obsession. I think what annoyed me the most was that I liked it. I blamed the gin.

"Oh god."

I was so fucking aroused. And even though I hadn't agreed to it, I didn't complain when the pressure increased.

"Uh."

He penetrated me with what felt like a pop. His digit slipped inside me, just to the first knuckle. I felt it moving, wiggling, exploring the opening of my back passage. I could sense my muscles gripping it. I so wanted to cum.

"You should stop now."

I couldn't make it sound as if I meant it and he continued to stretch and tease my hole.

I stared ahead at the brickwork, letting my eyes follow the lines of grey concrete separating them. I tried to think of other things to keep me from showing my arousal. I failed.

"Fuck."

His finger followed the classic in and out. Slow and deliberate, sending my knees into a noticeable shake. Then he pressed a little deeper and switched to a come hither motion that agitated my vagina through the thin wall separating my two entrances.

"Oh god."

My breathing became deeper and more ragged. My knees threatened to collapse and I wondered where this would end. Was he doing it for his pleasure? Or to arouse me?

"Oh, Jesus fuck."

I'd expected cringing embarrassment. Instead, I was on heat. I wanted to touch myself. To rub my pussy until I orgasmed. I think I might have succumbed if he hadn't stopped right then.

Ambrose stood up and took his hands away.

"Thank you. That was most delightful."

For a moment I remained still, trying to recover myself. What the fuck had just happened? I got a grip of myself and straightened up, pushing my skirt back into place.

"Satisfied?" I asked trying to make the disappointment sound more like defiance as I turned to look at him.

"Yes. Very much so. You have the most beautiful, tight little buttonhole that I have ever had the pleasure of seeing."

I wondered just how many he had seen. Did he tour the pubs looking for compliant little girls like me just so that he could finger their arses?

"Yeah. Well. I'm not in the habit of letting people poke their fingers in my bum. Take the win. I'm not going to do it again."

He smiled.

"An asset that will surely go to waste if you don't."

I stared into his eyes trying to work him out. He had no shame. Nor was there any evidence that he was overly excited. It was just the same, calm face I'd seen inside the pub. He would be quite fanciable if this little secret about him had remained just that. Nope. Too weird for me.

"I should go," I muttered.

I picked my bag up and swung it over my shoulder.

"Sorry. I can't stay here."

I rushed away with a sense that I couldn't trust myself after that. A fast walk home saw me there in just five minutes.

Home was a place of failing light and no hot water. I should have stopped at the little One-Stop and put some money on the prepayment card, but I'd been overcome with other priorities thanks to Ambrose.

I threw myself on the bed and hitched my skirt up.

"Fuck."

I was desperate when I plunged my fingers between my legs to find the wettest pussy ever. I lifted my knees and opened them out until my hips hurt, rubbing myself all over. Along my inner thighs, around my vulva. I was so horny it was maddening.

"Uh."

I frigged myself frantically, ending my agony with a scream as I came strongly. Images of Ambrose with his finger in my arse filled my head.

THREE

Another Friday. Another visit to the pub. I sat where I was in full view and scanned the floor.

I told myself I didn't want Ambrose to appear a third time. The heated agitation between my legs said something different. Each time the door opened I looked up expectantly.

I still hadn't managed to turn an interview into a job, but it wasn't the money that was exciting me any more. I hated myself for it, but I wanted that feeling of being thought worthy of a posh man's attention. I wanted that kick he gave me. For him to push just that little further. I wanted to go home horny again.

It was wrong. It was degrading and belittling. It was also the only source of a thrill I had.

"Hi."

I looked up, shocked that I hadn't seen him approaching. I smirked seeing him standing there. Oh fuck. I'd spent the week telling myself I wouldn't play his games anymore. That I would tell him no the moment he appeared. Instead, I held my empty glass up.

"It's the man who likes bum holes again.

Could you make it a double? And I don't mean coke."

Ambrose gave that disarming smile of his and took the glass.

"You should get out more. Look around. There probably isn't a man in this place that would turn down a pretty bum. And quite a few girls who will happily offer it.

I'll be right back."

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. What would he want this time? I didn't think I could refuse him whatever it was. Perhaps he'd want to lick it. One guy had done that once while eating me out, and I'd liked it. I'd protest if he asked. But yes, I'd let him. I trembled with excitement as he took a seat. Fuck. Three times meeting the same guy. This counted as a long-term relationship considering my history.

"Any luck looking for work?"

"Are you asking if I'm short of money?"

"No. Just enquiring if you have improved your situation. I care about my friends."

"Are we friends?" I sipped my gin, noticing the shake was visible in my hand. Anticipation is an aphrodisiac all of its own.

"I'd like to think so."

"No, is the answer."

I sighed at being reminded of my shit life.

"Just endless rejection letters. I left school with sod all in the way of exams. And everyone wants A levels these days. I don't think I'm thick, but my schooling was messed up. Never in the same place from one year to the next. I wasn't prepared for my GCSEs, never mind anything else. And after that, I just needed money. When you have no stable home, paying your way is the only thing that keeps you from the streets."

"What happened to your real parents?"

"Not a clue. No one knows. I was just handed over to a church when I was a newborn. Discarded rubbish."

"Or, a mother who wanted you to have a better chance in life than she thought she could give you."

I'd heard that a thousand times.

"Maybe. But it didn't work out that way. I was passed from family to family. The adoption process is shite. It isn't designed to place children in proper homes. So many hurdles for people to jump through.

Do you know how many times I hoped the next home would be forever? But always some obstacle that meant I was moved on. And each time, I just got angrier. They think they're protecting children. They aren't. They're just looking for unachievable, perfect little families. And they screw up on that front as well. I was lucky. All my foster placements were fairly decent people. There were other girls who got handed to monsters."

I was ranting my anger.

"Sorry," I said forcing myself to calm down.

"I'm sorry it was like that.

But. You've turned out a nice person."

"I woke up one day and looked in the mirror. I learnt to smile and pretend everything was wonderful.

I suppose I am nice. Now. But nice doesn't pay the bills."

"I guess not."

"Besides, you only think my arse hole is nice."

His face always looked so soft when he smiled. As if it came from the soul.

"I don't deny that is my focus. But I'm not blind to your pretty face, or your pleasant personality."

I downed more of the gin than I should, letting it go to my head.

"But it isn't my pleasant personality and freckles you want to stick your dick in is it."

At least he was honest.

"Your freckles are cute. But no. No, it's not. However, being a nice person is an important accompaniment."

I'd literally invited what came next.

"But as we're on the subject. What would it cost for you to let me stick my dick in your tight little hole tonight?"

My bum jumped. Even I hadn't thought this through to reach that point. Although it had been inevitable that he would ask eventually. I'd just thought next time or the time after. Oh Fuck.

"More than you have."

"I'm not without resources. Try me."

Perhaps he was rich.

"Five hundred."

I wished I'd asked for more. He'd paid three hundred to finger me. Five didn't seem sufficient to dissuade him. It didn't.

"You have a deal."

Jesus fuck. Had I said yes? Oh, Christ. What was I doing? I was walking into this, making it worse than ever, even as I told myself I should be running away from this man. And worse, I had to make a stuttering admission. One that only encouraged him more.

"I'm not ... no one has ... I don't do that. Not ever."

"Oh, Mary. That's so perfect."

"Not for me it isn't."

"I told you I liked innocent. I promise I'll be gentle. And you will absolutely love the experience."

I suddenly felt certain I wouldn't. I emptied my glass.

"I think this might need three gins."

"I'm in no hurry."

He took my empty glass from me and I sat in a daze, terrified of the road I was on.

I was in disbelief that I had let this man take me to his home. I was alone with a stranger where anything could happen to me. I still wasn't entirely over the idea that he would suddenly produce duct tape and rope.

I just didn't do things like this. I was always wary. Perhaps why I always shagged in alleyways, or cars in the B&Q carpark. Fuck. I had nothing to be proud of.

I'd have even less after this. Shagging someone was one thing. To purposefully go with a man who intended only to fuck my arse and then take money for it was a new low.

I didn't fully absorb the look of his home as we approached it. Between the racing thoughts in my head of performing a sex act I wasn't sure I could, and Ambrose's constant, calming chatter I lost everything to the distraction.

It wasn't until we were inside that it struck me that it was quite beautiful. And normal in an upper-class kind of way.

"Your home is amazing. You are rich aren't you."

I looked around seeing only expensive furniture that looked as if it's been put together by an interior designer. A modern look in an older, renovated property that just seemed to work.

"It's, comfortable." He said again, taking his jacket off.

I watched it fall to a chair and felt the walls closing in a little. It was just a jacket. But it was one step closer to me having to remove something.

"Would you like a drink?"

Like? Need was the word he should have used.

"Yes. Please."

He opened a cabinet to a range of bottles and crystal-cut glasses. I'd only ever seen such things in the middle and upper-class homes of television characters. Normal people had a beer in the fridge.

I turned away and ran my fingers along the top of a fine sideboard, connecting to the real wood and years of beeswax polish. This wasn't from Ikea. I stopped at a photo.

It was a posed snap of someone very beautiful. Dark hair and a warm smile. Sophisticated. I felt a surge of disappointment. Jealousy. Disappointment in myself and jealousy of this woman. She was what I wanted to be. Normal coloured hair and a chest. Not massive or anything, but not flat like mine. Her face was rounded, free of blemishes and what I considered true beauty.

"Who's that?"

"My wife."

My heart jumped and anger rose inside me.

"You're married? And you think we're just going to ..."

He laughed at me. It took a moment but I saw that same calmness again.

"You brought me here to ... do something unspeakable, and you're fucking married?"

"My wife has no problem with my interests. She encourages it.

We share a ..."

He pushed a glass into my hand.

"That's new." I snapped, not letting him finish.

"I thought the line was, my wife doesn't understand me. That's traditional, isn't it? But no. You're going with the opposite. It's certainly fucking original."

I felt angry. An anger that hadn't surfaced since my early teens.

"I'm going."

"Why would you do that?"

I swung around, shocked at the female voice, to find myself looking at the person in the photo.

"Mary. This is my wife. Amelia."

"I'm so sorry." I gushed.

"I didn't know he was married. I'm not a home wrecker. I'm leaving. Sorry."

Amelia wasn't reacting how I expected.

"Please don't." She said.

"That'd be such a shame."

I froze, held by that same disarming smile her husband had. Why wasn't she angry?

"What?"

Amelia circled me, studying me as if I were a sculpture.

"Very nice."

She stopped in front of me.

"Young. And a redhead."

"Not my best feature."

I wasn't sure what was. My arse according to Ambrose.

"Oh, dear. Your hair is amazing. Such a rich colour, and it compliments your skin tones."

"You mean my freckles."

Her smile was just as warm and genuine as it had appeared in the photo.

"You're very self-deprecating for such a pretty girl."

"I wish people would stop calling me pretty. I'm okay. Nothing more."

"It's sad that we focus on our faults and don't always see ourselves as others see us."

"I've no tits, a big backside and fucking freckles. I think I know how I look."

"We'll have to convince you otherwise."

Why was she being so nice? I was the other woman. Almost. The bit on the side. The harlot who had nearly let her husband do something unspeakable that she probably refused to do. This made no sense.

"So what is this? I'm not understanding what's going on here."

I glanced back at Ambrose.

"Exactly what I was offering at the pub." He said.

"Five hundred to fuck you in the arse."

I stared in disbelief that he would say it so plainly in front of the woman he had taken as his wife and vowed to be loyal to.

Amelia for her part, simply sat on a particularly sumptuous leather sofa and crossed her long legs before clarifying her intentions.

"The only thing my husband neglected to mention was that I would like to watch."

I gulped the gin in the hopes I could get my mind to focus on what was being asked of me.

"You want to watch?

Me? With your husband?"

"Yes."

"Fuck."

"The deal remains the same otherwise."

"I didn't bargain for this. It's all a bit ... are you swingers or something?"

I think I could have coped better with that than this weird setup. Amelia was laughing.

"Think of us more as a couple who aren't hung up on the usual expectations of society."

What did that even mean?

"Five hundred pounds." Ambrose reminded me as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Think of it as a bonus on top of having a good time."

The problem with sexual responses is that they don't always manifest how you'd expect. Where my head was horrified, my body was excited. Where my shyness should have demanded I cover up more, the churning of my stomach and the tingle in my limbs betrayed the excitement of becoming an exhibitionist. I wasn't by a long way, but my gushing pussy was putting up an argument.

"Take your clothes off."

"All of them?"

I don't know what shocked me more. Ambrose just assuming I still would. Or that my reply had only been to clarify, not refuse.

"Yes. We're not in the alley now. We can afford to take our time and be comfortable."

My shaking grew and I started to panic, looking for an excuse.

"I'm not that pretty naked. I have no tits."

Not sure why I thought that would be a problem. He was only interested in my arse hole.

I looked back at Amelia. What did she get off on?

"I think you underestimate yourself." She said.

"To me, you look made for pleasure."

Ambrose was already pulling his shirt away without any inhibitions. For a moment I watched. It was his pleasure Amelia assumed I was made for. Did I want to be? It was still five hundred pounds.

I started to follow suit, on autopilot, not fully understanding why I was doing this.

I hesitated when I was down to my underwear, realising that I had never been fully naked the few times I'd had sex. I was also thinking about what it was I was supposed to let him do.

I'd watched enough porn. I'd even thought about it. But the realisation that in a matter of minutes he would stick his cock in my arse was scary. Several gins and the memory of how aroused I'd been with a finger in my butt were about the only things that kept me from running away.

"Are you shy?"

Amelia had noticed I was taking my time.

"A little."

"Don't be. You have amazing legs."

It wasn't my legs I was self-conscious about. I took the bra off quickly, fighting the urge to cover myself.

"Sweet."

I glanced down at my tits. I just saw tiny things. Neat with nice nipples was the best I could say about them. There was just nothing of actual breast. If I lifted my arms above my head or lay down, what there was of them disappeared. Only the nipples remained. Puberty had hit, then passed my chest by.

Ambrose was naked and I saw his cock. Was it big? A little more than what was supposed to be average in truth. But given where it was going, it looked massive as it protruded straight out, waving and bouncing around freely as he moved. He had absolutely no inhibitions, taking another drink from his glass as he waited for me. I gulped back my fears and dropped my panties.

"Okay?" I asked, fearful that I wouldn't be good enough now they could see everything.

"Delightful," Ambrose said with his smile.

Amelia purred her liking for me.

"Such a small waist. That's the secret of your lovely arse."

"Or it's just big."

My voice shook as my heat and fear rose in some strangely symbiotic union. I was totally naked in the house of strangers, and they were looking at me. Studying me like I was an artwork.

My bum jumped again as I focused on what was coming my way.

"You will be gentle. Won't you?"

Ambrose took my hand and guided me toward Amelia's sofa, positioning me behind it. His hands glided around my backside, along my back and down my thighs. I leaned over the backrest so that my little tits hung beneath me. Little more than nipples poking downwards from small swellings.

Fear gripped me again.

"Are you gonna do it?"

I expected him to just ram it in.

"Patience. Fucking is an art. Something to be savoured slowly. No matter which hole. And this one requires particular attention."

Christ. My experience of sex was a quick, heated fumble and lots of thrusting until both of us got off. This guy was making art from it. And his audience was doing all the savouring.

"I'll loosen you up and use lots of oil. It'll feel very tight and might sting a bit. But I promise I won't damage you."

Amelia's eyes were on me, watching with the intensity a fan might watch a football game. I couldn't reconcile the idea that a wife would be so keen to see her husband defile me. It wasn't normal. I'd do this. I'd take the money. And then I'd get out.

"Just relax."

Ambrose dripped scented oil over my cheeks and into my crack. His hands spread it around in a slow massage of that one area he had an obsession with. It lifted the pleasant smell of vanilla into the room and left a silken, lubricating film over my flesh. His fingers circled their target sending a tremble through my whole body. I was still shaking with fear, but I also found it sensuous.

That finger progressed to poking and pressing right on my entrance, bringing back memories of the previous week. The fear and the excitement. I remembered how I'd been so desperate to cum after he'd finished. I could feel those desires returning.

"Uh."

The massage oil made everything slippery. There was no resistance I could put up to his finger slipping inside.

"Uh."

It was so weird having this one tiny, private place treated with such reverence. No interest in kissing or touching my tits. Everything was about my arse hole. It shouldn't have been erotic. But even through my nervousness, it was arousing.

"Huh."

He treated it as he had before, sliding in and out, gently pulling and pushing. One knuckle. Then two. Deeper than before. It twisted and turned. It pulled and pressed, slowly stretching my hole and easing its muscle resistance. He worked the oil into me copiously coating what was an otherwise dry passage.

"Fuck."

"A nice, tight, virgin hole."

He spoke softly, almost as if he was whispering sweet no to a loved one. To Amelia who sat just to the side of my face absorbing the scene with relish.

"There are so many nerves around the entrance. The stimulation can be intense. The tightness around a cock simply amplifies the pleasure.

"Fuck."

I gasped as his crown replaced his finger, breaking my barrier with ease. It was swallowed by my stretching hole, the oil ensuring it went in, slippery and unrestrained.

"Fuck."

Amelia was watching my face. She'd subtly twisted around on the sofa and put her feet up so that I was almost staring at her as he did this.

"Does it feel nice?" She asked.

"It feels like my arse is on fire."

My voice was gasping, projecting my fear of the unfamiliar invasion.

"Just relax and let it slide deeper." She whispered.

"Your face is so beautiful. I can see the joy in your eyes. It makes you even more beautiful. And I'm going to see every detail portrayed by your face. You'll have no secrets from me as my husband fucks you."

Joy? I wasn't so sure it was joy. I had tears in my eyes by the time he settled deep inside me.

"Urh."

I groaned with relief that it fitted. Then the fear returned and I gripped the sofa back, clenching the soft leather with all my strength. For now, it was just sleeping in there. A warm, tight sensation. A feeling of being filled where I shouldn't be.

This was only the start. Amelia knew that as well. She was smiling, the anticipation of what was going to happen was there in her eyes. She was waiting for the main event as if it would be the greatest show on earth. I felt Ambrose drawing back. A slow, deliberate withdrawal, almost to his tip.

"Huh."

The trust was hard and deep. The oil defeated attempts by my muscles to resist and my ring stung with fire, as though on the verge of tearing. Pain and pleasure all at once.

"Fucking hell, it hurts."

Again and again, he did it as I stared ahead, mesmerised by that one thing. By a cock in my arse for the first time. And the last.

"Uh. Uh. Uh."

Over and over he fucked me delivering a weird pressure to my insides. His groin smacked into my butt, ringing with the slap of flesh. I felt submissive and so vulnerable.

"Do it harder." Amelia encouraged.

I cursed her as he pummelled me, confused by the feelings beginning to transfer to my pussy.

"Urh. Uh."

She was fixated on my face, watching my lips as they quivered with each gasp, seeing the flush of my cheeks. The drip of sweat on my brow. I was at my most exposed. She saw into my soul.

It seemed to go on for an age, pulverising my mind with more pleasure than pain. My whole groin was alive. My arse was the tight receptacle at the centre of wild sensations that reached my clit with a slow build. Slower than normal fucking, but just as relentless.

"Oh god."

Amelia reached up and touched my face. Her fingers caressed my cheek as sweat trickled from my forehead.

"You're so beautiful as you fuck."

She was freaky. An elegant young wife who was thrilled at seeing this activity. At watching me defiled in a brutal way.

"Uhh."

Like a long-distance runner, the endorphins kept me going through what must have been the longest fucking of my life. I wondered if it would ever end.

"Please."

I begged for a finish. I could feel my need. I was going to cum. I concentrated, wanting the release. I felt the subtle change in his pace. The heat and throb was far more intense than vaginal sex.

"Oh god."

My clit exploded sending convulsions through my body. A wave of ecstasy that surged and ebbed. Then suddenly there was a great warmth invading my back passage. I didn't feel it as such, but I was aware of it.

"Fuck."

Amelia was right there, staring into my eyes as I came. It was a drawn-out orgasm, less sharp than I was experienced with, but longer lasting.

"Uhh."

I flopped with exhaustion as it ended and that cock glided free of me.

"Fuck."

I slid from the sofa, dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap of hot sweat, oil, and leaking cum. I doubted I looked so pretty at that moment. The results of energetic sex are messy. Something only to be appreciated by an equally ragged partner. Not, to my mind, something to be savoured by watching eyes. Real sex wasn't like the filtered and posed sex of porn. It was brutal and animalistic. This sex more than most.

"That was incredible," Ambrose announced.

They seemed happy with my performance. The pair of them were excited by my porn show. Reality began to return to my thoughts and along with it, embarrassment.

I refused the use of a shower and hurriedly dressed. My head was in utter disarray. Confused by the feeling of ecstasy I couldn't deny and the shame of what I'd done. The money loomed high in my thoughts, but not for its power to solve my problems. I'd surrendered my body for his pleasure. Theirs. Amelia seemed to have taken just as much joy from it as he had. And I'd done it for money. I felt sick.

"I need to go."

I did. I had to get out of their house and find some normality so I could process what I'd done.

"I'll call you a taxi."

It was another age waiting. I kept looking out of the window searching for the headlights of an approaching car as if I were a hostage waiting for rescue. All the while Amelia and Ambrose were pawing at one another and cuddling, but always with the constant looks toward me. Ambrose hadn't bothered dressing and all I could see was his hard cock. It was happy in Amelia's careful caress, but I was only worried he might want to return it to the comfort of my arse.

"Car's here," I said snatching my bag up.

"Thank you."

Why was I thanking them? I'd been the entertainment.

Amelia followed me to the door.

"Thank you, Mary.

We're going to go upstairs now. After that, Ambrose is going to fuck my brains out. I love sex when he's so ... heightened. Makes my pussy so fucking wet.

You did that. You should be proud."

I stared at her smiling face. I couldn't quite get my head around why she had shared that with me. I didn't need to know. And no, I wasn't proud. Far from it. I turned and left. The harlot leaving by taxi in the early hours. I imagined all the way home that the driver knew exactly what I'd done.

FOUR

I was disgusted by myself after that Friday night. I hadn't been best satisfied with my behaviour when I'd let him look at my arse behind the pub. But I could reconcile that as bawdy behaviour. The result of drink and an overzealous desire to be daring. Like a better endowed girl flashing her tits at a party.

To become a sex toy in the foreplay of a couple. To bend over and have Ambrose fuck my arse as if I were nothing more than a fleshlight bought from LoveHoney was hard to put out of my mind.

It didn't keep me from the overwhelming need to please my clit when I'd stood beneath my shower.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck."

My orgasm was knee-trembling when it came. And so much juice covering my fingers. I licked it away with a primal desire to experience my pleasure with every sense.

Another interview on Monday and another rejection letter in the post Wednesday morning brought a little more realism to my head. The direct debit for my rent was going out on Thursday and without the addition of Ambrose's money, I wouldn't have had sufficient funds. Yes, I'd sold myself for sex. But the reality was that I wouldn't be eating if I hadn't. Unemployment benefit didn't pay a sum I could live on, and I just didn't qualify for any extra help.

There also remained the inescapable truth that whenever I thought about that Friday night, I was so fucking horny. I hated myself for doing it when the images flashed through my head, but always the guilt was superseded by the need to masturbate myself to delirium. How was I supposed to reconcile that?

I didn't go to the pub on Friday. The need to escape the confines of my flat was replaced by a far greater want of avoiding temptation. Unfortunately, fate wasn't so keen on allowing me to escape.

"What the fuck?"

Ambrose was at my door on Saturday.

"How do you know where I live?"

"I asked around in the pub when you didn't show. Didn't get the exact address, but the postman helped."

He held out a letter for me to take.

"I thought they weren't supposed to hand over mail to just anyone."

"I can be quite persuasive."

"Yes. You can." I muttered.

I looked at the letter as I stepped away from the door to let him in. I saw the stamp of another business I'd approached. Another rejection letter. Fuck.

"Nice flat."

I dropped the letter on the side and turned my attention back to this man who it seemed, I just couldn't make go away. He was wandering my living room looking it over.

"None of it's mine. Rented."

"Must be expensive."

I felt my bum twitching. He could only be here for one thing and I wasn't best pleased about the idea. Especially if he thought I'd just bend over for him in my home.

"I'm not doing it again. You've had your fun." I said defiantly.

He stopped pacing and pushed his hands deep into his pockets.

"Come for a coffee."

"I'm sorry. What?"

"Come for a coffee." He said again.

"Amelia wants to talk to you."

I shook my head in disbelief.

"Why? To thank me for getting you warmed up enough to fuck her brains out? Her words, not mine."

The smile became a laugh.

"Accurate though."

"I don't want to know.

God knows why I let you talk me into doing that. But I'm done with it. I might be desperate for money, but I'm not a prostitute."

He looked around again.

"The flat is nice. But I notice the TV is unplugged, and so is the Sky box. Is that to save money?"

"Vampire appliances. That's what they call them, isn't it? Things that suck energy on standby? I'm doing my bit to save on emissions. And Sky has been cancelled."

I had unplugged everything to eke out my energy usage. I wasn't convinced it made a lot of difference, but a prepayment meter is an expensive way of paying. I'd take every watt going.

"Come and have a coffee. Meet Amelia properly. I promise I won't suggest anything else. And when you're done, I'll drive you back."

I shrugged.

"Why does your wife want to meet me again?"

"You won't find out unless you come.

Consider it a mystery to be solved."

He was persuasive. And it was that ability that frightened me as he drove us to his home in the suburbs. This was where I would want to live if I were rich. Big Georgian houses with bay windows and large manicured gardens. Some had gates to the drives. His did. Powered as we approached.

I'd seen it all the previous week, but I was less distracted today and more interested in who this Ambrose was.

"I knew you were wealthy. Look at this place."

"It's just a little place we call home."

He pushed the door wide and ushered me in.

"In you go. You know the way."

I was the fly delivering herself into the web almost without realising it. And waiting for me was the deadlier sex of the species, curled seductively on the sofa that had been the prop for my last visit.

Amelia was very beautiful. A model in any other world. That certainly hadn't escaped my notice last time. She was a little younger than Ambrose, still sharing the same decade of life as me. And she was the naturally posher of the two. Much more carefully spoken and more aware of how she presented herself. She didn't slouch and she gave nothing away from behind those immensely intelligent dark eyes. I felt she would be a formidable opponent to anyone who crossed her.

"Come and sit with me, Mary."

She lifted her feet to the floor and patted the sofa. I glanced around for Ambrose but he hadn't followed me in. It was just me and Amelia. Somehow, that left me feeling even more nervous.

"Thanks."

I did as she was suggesting with trepidation. I felt even less safe with this woman than I did her husband. Why, I couldn't say. At least she wasn't equipped to destroy what little dignity I retained in the way he was.

"Do you like my husband?"

Well, that was to the point. But why?

"Er ... yeah. I suppose so.

His tastes are a little weird though."

"But you did it."

I shrugged as I withered under her gaze.

"I was tempted by the money."

I couldn't deny that, however it made me look.

"And it was a little thrilling. I don't get a lot of sex. No boyfriend."

Truth, even if it did hurt to admit having his cock in my arse had a certain attraction."

"And did you get a thrill from being watched?"

Glowing red cheeks and the uncomfortable shuffle on the sofa answered that for her.

"Yes."

"What did you do when you got home?"

I cringed. She knew. Of course, she knew.

"Exactly what you think I did.

Look. Can we talk about something else? This is embarrassing."

I stood up and put some distance between us. Did she want me to describe every detail? To hear how I'd humped my pillow until it was soaked through with my cum? To have me tell her how I'd imagined having her watching as I'd masturbated myself to exhaustion?

I wasn't proud of any of it. But hormones rage when you're my age. And any attention is better than no attention. Of course, I was horny.

Her eyes were still on me when I looked. A stoic face that revealed very little. The almost indiscernible hint of a pleased smirk maybe. I found her stranger than Ambrose. Where was he?

I flinched when Amelia launched to her feet without the slightest warning.

"I'll make coffee.

Come and keep me company."

I followed like a little pet puppy as she started telling me about how they'd met at university and how they owned an accounting business that looked after the tax affairs of some large companies.

It meant nothing to me except to explain how they afforded this big house.

"We had it completely redone inside before we moved in. The kitchen was entirely my domain. Do you like it?"

How could I not? It was an extension to the main house, pushing back into an extensive garden. Large, in pale colours with a glass roof that bathed the whole area in natural light. It was a very modern construction that contrasted and complemented the traditional building.

"It's amazing."

"And very practical. I like to cook."

Coffee wasn't instant from a jar. It was real beans tipped into a barista machine so big it would have covered most of my kitchen workspace.

"Come for a tour of the house while your coffee is brewing."

For no reason that I could fathom, Amelia proceeded to guide me around her home, showing me the various rooms. Each of them equally luxurious. Upstairs were four bedrooms, two with en-suites, all presented as if for a spread in a Home and Garden magazine shoot.

"And we have this."

A door from the kitchen led through a tiny glass walkway to a small additional building.

"What do you think?"

I stepped through into an annexe. A bedsit for granny in the sales brochure. Only it was decorated for someone younger. A little oasis for ... someone my age.

"It's lovely. Ideal for your children one day."

Or the sex slave. I wondered what she intended by showing me this.

"Perhaps. But that's a long way off. If ever. I'm not the maternal kind."

"The coffee should be ready by now."

We went back to the kitchen and sat at the table where the summer sun poured through the roof to give a feeling of being outside. I could sunbathe here without ever opening a door. But I wasn't here for that. And it didn't take long for Amelia to return to the real reason.

"Do you enjoy pleasing my husband?"

How did I answer that? Would she be offended if I said no? Or angry if I answered yes? What kind of a woman watched her husband fuck another girl's arse?

She moved on when I didn't answer.

"I'm happy to indulge his whims because he is always very attentive after. I like my man to come to me happy."

What was I? The warm-up act?

"So you see. For me, you serve a very important purpose. And I must admit, I do like to watch."

My cheeks burned. Freckles on full display. I could see her eyes moving ever so subtly, joining the dots on my face as she regarded me.

"You're very pretty. Pleasing to the eye."

"Thank you," I muttered almost inaudibly.

"But I'm nothing special."

She took a breath and sat up very straight.

"Perhaps not the classic image of beauty. Not the leggy blonde model figure."

"Like you." I pointed out.

She smiled.

"I'm not blonde.

But you have sex appeal. A sweet cuteness.

Yes. I like you.

So I have a proposal."

"What's that?"

"You saw the annexe. Did you like it?"

"It's very nice. Stylish. Like your main home."

"Would you like to live there? For free?"

My mouth gaped. She was offering me freedom from the biggest expense in my existence. I knew it wasn't coming free even if she said it did.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course, I'm not being entirely altruistic. I do require something in return.

Indulge my husband's fetish whenever he asks. Or when I require you to ... warm his motor for me. And you may stay there for as long as you wish. Plus a small allowance."

I stared as I grasped in full what she was asking. She was offering to buy me. Or more specifically, she wanted to buy my services. My arse. But could I afford not to accept?

"I'd be a prostitute."

I hated that no matter how I tried, the lure of comfortable living negated the edge of self-disgust that I expected to hear in my voice.

"Other countries have more polite words. In France, you would be a mistress. To the wealthy elites in Asia, a concubine.

Amongst medieval royalty, a concubine held great sway. In the Ottoman Empire, it was often the concubines who bore heirs. They accumulated wealth.

A concubine doesn't have the social status of a married woman, but they are a valued member of the family. A way for a man to have a second partner, openly."

I laughed.

"Is that why I'm here? To be interviewed as a possible mistress? The slut to be kept in the annexe for sexual favours?"

"You shouldn't view it as something degrading or without reward. That isn't my intention at all."

"But it's what I'd be."

"That's why I like the word concubine. A mistress, a lover, is something generally hidden away. A dirty little secret. Concubinage is more honest. An arrangement that is mutually acceptable to all parties."

This was unbelievable. That a married woman in the modern world would be actively involved in her husband's cheating was crazy.

"And you'd be okay with that? With me being your husbands ..."

I shook my head as a suitable word escaped me.

"His mistress?"

"Absolutely." She continued.

"I requested he find someone amenable. And in you, I believe he has.

But make no mistake. Only your arse. You must never allow his cock to enter your pussy. Or your mouth. That's my one rule.

Those are the things I reserve for myself."

What would I get out of that?

"Doesn't sound like a very satisfactory arrangement for me."

"Free board and lodgings isn't satisfactory? A nice environment to live in? Good company? Money you can save? And I saw you cum. You get pleasure from anal sex, so you won't be going without."

It hurt me to admit that she wasn't being inaccurate.

"We are offering you all the perks a concubine of old would have received, in return for this one service. And the rest of the time, you can be a companion to me."

"Companion?"

Now I was confused.

"Yes. Another old-world term I have a soft spot for. Wealthy women would often have companions. A younger girl to converse with. To keep them company while shopping. Someone to be a friend.

It's an arrangement. Nothing more."

I hated that in one final sentence, she had reminded me of that one word again. Prostitute. No matter how she dressed it up in fancy words, that's what I would be. One expected to perform while she watched. However, my employment options were becoming limited. I shrugged.

"And that's it? I get to live in the bedsit? With no bills?"

She smiled.

"Yes. It's as simple as that. That will be your private space but otherwise, you'll live with us. You will even eat with us."

If I said no, I'd be back home to my rented room and bills that very soon, I wouldn't be able to pay without Ambrose's cash. What would I do then? I'd taken his money in desperation. Would I take someone else's for similar deeds? Someone far less pleasant and far more demanding? Desperation was something that drove many women to abandon their morals. If that was what I was going to do, it would be foolish not to choose the most agreeable offer I would ever receive.

I surrendered.

"Should I cancel my rental agreement?" I asked.

She nodded. Looking pleased.

"That would be wise.

My husband will help you collect your things and settle any outstanding amount on Monday."

I felt a tremor of excitement. When I didn't think about it too much, I could only see that I was going to live in luxury. I'd have someone to share my life with. I hated being alone.

"Thank you."

But there was a price. I would have to give him my arse whenever he desired it. How often would he want that? How long did it take? How much of my time would I be giving up for that activity? It was work of a sort. That was something I'd have to come to terms with. But it wasn't eight hours a day. Even he didn't have that kind of stamina.

FIVE

"I should like to watch you."

So there it was. My first official instruction as the recently employed Sex Entertainer. But I'd agreed to this. It was only right I complied.

"Okay."

Almost two days I'd been living in their home, finding my way and getting used to people I hardly knew. I'd felt like a guest, but now I was being reminded that I was an employee.

It all seemed a little clinical, but I stood and started undressing, this time with less reticence. Ambrose did the same.

"Ooh. I love seeing you naked"

Amelia seemed fascinated by me.

"You have such a neat little pussy."

Yeah, but I wasn't going to get to put it to use. She'd been clear about that rule.

"Turn around and play with your bum for me."

I turned to face away, putting my hands behind me to lift and bounce my buttocks for her. To be fair, while I thought my arse big, it was very firm and did little more than spring back into place when I let go. It was my tiny waist and lack of tits that made it seem bigger than it was.

There was a mirror on the wall ahead of me. I could see myself. A naked plaything posing for Amelia's gratification. Her reflection was there as well, just over my shoulder. A picture of elevated excitement. Horny.

"Do you like that?" I asked, deciding I should play the part.

"Oh yes.

Pull your cheeks apart for me. Open that crack wide so I can see your starfish."

I was reddening now. Another glance at Amrose showed him waiting patiently, stroking a hard cock, slowly. Patient for his enjoyment to arrive at Amelia's permission. I pushed my butt back and held my cheeks aside for her to study. She was leaning closer, wanting a better look. I quivered visibly, knowing she was looking straight at my butthole. If nothing else, it was getting me excited.

"Such a tiny little thing. So tight. I do hope it doesn't hurt too much. Though a little burning sensation does heighten the experience."

"It's okay." I said.

It did hurt. The second time less so, but it did feel as though I was being penetrated through a burning ring of fire. I wondered if she did it. It was hard not to think she did if Ambrose was so keen. Or was that my purpose? To spare her the indignity? Perhaps she got off on having me humiliate myself?

Amelia leaned back satisfied and I let go of my arse. I turned my head to look at Ambrose. He was getting ready, pouring oil onto his meat to make it slippery and squelchy as his hand continued to ride back and forth along its length. It was a fine looking cock, with a nice pair of balls slung beneath it, held taut by his erection.

Sex for me had always been something slightly dirty. Something to be hidden away in the dark. Now here was this man so uninhibited that he was comfortable to openly stroke his cock. And I had been forced into the light to show myself and my arousal. To cum under the critical gaze of his wife. My legs trembled.

"I think that arse is hungry for a filling."

Ambrose took that as his cue and told me what to do.

"Find something for support and bend over for me."

I chose a chair. A wooden side chair that lived by the sideboard. I took it into the room making it centre stage, positioning it carefully to give Amelia the best view. It was a show. I was resigned to that. There was no point in pretending otherwise. I bent over the backrest to put my hands on the seat. Beneath me, my nipples, swollen and aching for attention I knew they wouldn't receive, pointed downward. A nice display for the watching eyes when they wobbled under his fucking. An arousing thought to me.

"Mmm."

A repeat of before, oil dribbled into my crack and across the tops of my cheeks. I stayed in place as he caressed me, oiling by arse before the inextricable move toward my hole.

"Huh."

This time he used a ribbed butt plug to loosen me. A stainless steel thing with three ribs, each larger than the first. A handle allowed him to work it back and forth, twisting and pulling to stretch me.

"Oh Jesus."

"Does it feel good?"

His voice was gentle, displaying a wish for me to enjoy it. I so wanted to say no. But now I'd accepted this was what I'd do, I was finding that enjoyment in it.

"Yes."

My voice shuddered as he pressed it home, all the way to that handle.

"Uhh."

He twisted it, tugged and pressed to agitate me.

"Uhh."

I think it felt even better coming out to be replaced with the warmth of his cock.

Amelia stood right at the side of us as he fucked me, staring down on his meat sliding into my arse. It was slow and relentless. Almost machine-like.

"Oh god."

She dripped more of the oil onto us and it trickled down onto my pussy. I wished someone would give me attention there. It was maddening not to have him fuck my pussy, or at least rub my clit.

"Fuck. Uhh."

I willed Amelia to be more daring. To touch me. To help me cum. She didn't. All she offered as a contribution were words of encouragement laced with her breathy horniness.

"Faster. Do it faster."

Amelia was excited. She wanted to see him hammer my arse. He obliged.

"Uh. Uh. Uh."

"That's it Ambrose. Fuck her. Fuck her tight little arse."

"Oh fuck."

The chair was slipping under his impact and I had to take a step forward. The slap of our flesh rang in my ears. All the while that feeling of being stretched and filled remained, as if I was impaled. I was trapped over the frame of the chair, my only support against the relentless pummelling.

"Oh Jesus fuck."

The stinging burn. The throbbing of his cock. My mind was focused only on where we joined. My clit exploded and took me over the edge.

"Fuck."

His cum was splattered over my cheeks, launching with enough force to reach the small of my back. Amelia massaged it into my flesh as I fought to calm a heart beating to destruction.

I was still gasping when Amelia took Ambrose from me and kissed him passionately. I saw her hand on his cock, massaging the still hard organ. It glides down his shaft and squeezed his balls. His crown danced.

Amelia smiled at me.

"Would you like to watch us in return?"

I nodded without thinking.

"Yes."

"Then come upstairs and sit quietly."

Amelia was everything I wished I was naked. Long legs and a neat butt. Tits that rolled over her chest and bounced. They didn't vanish when she stretched an arm out or lay down. She was the girl in the magazine that teenage boys drooled over before making do with the likes of me. Even as the chosen submissive of these two. With all their kind words and evident desire, I felt as if I was a disappointment. Amelia's show only reinforced it.

She was an expert lover, kissing his cock and sucking it with a teasing massage of her lips. She played with his balls and squeezed them as she took that cock into her mouth deeper. She giggled and purred. Everything about her was sensual.

Poor Ambrose was an excited mess. His cock so hard I imagined it hurt. Only his recent use of me kept him from cuming. Something I saw as a service welcomed by Amelia who intended this to last all night.

"You can touch yourself if you like."

Amelia smiled as she lay back on the bed for Ambrose to sink his head between her legs.

"Huh. Fuck."

Her eyes closed and she was lost to the ecstasy of his mouth on her pussy. I sat quietly, watching them, not caring that my fingers were playing at my own. I was hot and wet. My clit swollen and demanding. I rubbed it gently letting out a tiny gasp.

Amelia was groaning much louder, rolling her head and lifting her leg, waving her knee in an agitated dance as he pleasured her. It was beautiful to watch and I began to understand why Amelia was so enamoured with being a spectator. Once the social conditioning of sex as a sin was expunged, it truly was a miracle to enjoy.

A show far superior to any porn clip. It wasn't just the naturalness of seeing real flesh rippling and trembling. It was the sense of the tingle bringing alive. The heat of two excited bodies filling the air with warmth and the pleasing scent of fresh sweat.

"'Mmm."

My excitement was growing. I'd cum watching this. I wanted to cum. I wanted my clit to have the pleasure that direct touch brought it. I wanted to feel that moment again.

"Uh."

As Amelia guided Ambrose to lay over her, to kiss and fondle her tits, she wrapped her legs around him and turned her head toward me.

"It feels so good when it goes in."

I saw that moment. The tiny flinch reflected on her face, the joy of it pressing into her. Ambrose ground his groin into hers, screwing her before beginning to slowly fuck.

It was sensuous love making. Touching, kissing, a grasping of his body with legs and arms. A determination to keep be as one with her. To keep his cock inside her until she was rewarded by the involuntary contractions of her pussy and the fire only a clit could burn with.

They rolled and it became her in charge. She sat up, rocking her hips as he caressed her tits, squeezing those richly coloured nipples.

"Uh. Uh. Uh."

Two, naked bodies, both perfectly formed, moving together is the most pleasurable experience nature has provided us. Beautiful.

I rubbed my clit faster, cuming almost silently and unnoticed as they became lost in a groaning, sweaty heat of ever more energetic fucking.

Again they rolled, Ambrose dominating his wife to fuck her furiously as she called for more.

"Fuck me.

Fuck me"

I saw the strain on her face. The bite of her lower lip as she teetered on the edge.

"Oh my fucking god. Yes. Yes."

Amelia's cry was ecstatic. The sound of a woman in orgasm. I saw her quakes and shudders. Her fingers scratching at his back.

I saw Ambrose's cock press hard into her tender, sweet pussy as he ejaculated, betrayed by the tiny convulsions in his arse.

Amelia threw her arms out and took a deep, satisfied breath as she lay under his relaxing form.

"I just love fucking."

When I went back to my room I was lost in a daze. I'd just witnessed two people have sex. Real, husband and wife sex that had ended in them cuddling and kissing. It was something I'd never seen and often feared I'd never experience. I'd watched. Fascinated by it. Aroused by it. But also saddened that I wasn't part of such a wonderful union.

It wasn't even mentioned the next morning. I was up late and Ambrose had already gone into work. A freshly showered Amelia was in the kitchen wrapped in nothing more than a towel making coffee.

"Morning."

I glanced at the clock.

"Only just."

"I thought we could go into town today. A bit of shopping and afternoon tea. There's a lovely little bakery down by the river. We can sit outside and watch the swans.

I nodded.

"Okay. That'd be lovely."

It felt surreal. But also rather nice that someone was asking me to go shopping with them as if I was a friend.

"Good.

Coffee first. Then I'll go and get dressed."

SIX

The trouble with slipping into the world of people who have a sexual deviancy is that no matter what you do, it is never enough. And the more reliant I found myself on this couple financially and the more compliant in my offering of my arse for their entertainment, the harder it was to say no.

"It's just a couple of dear friends."

"And you want them to watch?"

I stared at Amelia in the hopes she had some limit to this madness. Her face told me everything. The excited smirk said clearly that she was as onboard with the idea as he was. Perhaps even the instigator.

I did what I always did and asked for the ground rules as if it were me who was setting them. It clearly wasn't.

"And no one else touches?"

"Absolutely not," Ambrose assured me.

"They get to watch and admire you. But that is all. Only I will know the pleasure of your body."

My body? He only ever touched my arse. Not once had his hands even drifted to my tits.

I felt owned. And unable to refuse. It'd been only a few weeks living with Ambrose and Amelia and what was already clear to me was how dependent on them I was. My situation hadn't been the best before I agreed to this lunacy, but to walk away at this point, I'd find myself in an even worse one. No home, no job. What would I do?

Fuck. I nodded my acceptance.

"Okay."

I didn't see much point in underwear when Saturday evening came. It was coming off soon enough anyway. So after showering, I just chose a short red dress from the small selection of clothes Amelia had added to my own. Some stylish but comfortable shoes completed my look. I glanced in the mirror, deciding I looked presentable.

Hair up or down? I went for up. I swept it into a messy bundle and secured it with a claw-clip. Yeah. It had a bit of sophistication about it.

Their guests were there when I arrived in the main house. Henry and Cordelia, in their early thirties and just as beautiful and middle-class as Ambrose and Amelia.

"Ah. Let me introduce Mary."

Ambrose proudly took my arm and pulled me centre stage. They were polite, saying hello and complimenting my looks, but I felt like a piece of meat being displayed. A race horse paraded before being expected to win the steeplechase.

"You're exquisite."

Cordelia seemed particularly taken with me. Her eyes seemed not to ever wander from me.

Dinner was an elaborate display of Amelia's culinary skills. Generally, I'd help in the kitchen, but this was all her doing tonight.

The chatter over our meal was weirdly normal. Talk of work, university days and family holidays. I didn't have much to offer and only spoke when someone addressed me directly. They were kind, friendly people who treated me as if I were one of them. But I couldn't escape the knowledge that no matter how normal it seemed, I came from a much more disadvantaged background. I was worthless slut, there to provide entertainment.

Ice cream and coffee were followed by confirmation of that.

"Mary. I think it's time you engaged in a little show for our guests."

I couldn't look at Amelia. I knew she was staring straight at me. I didn't respond until I heard Ambrose's chair sliding back.

I stood up and did what was expected. I took off the dress. My shoes stayed on.

"Come and let us see."

That was Cordelia giving instruction. I glanced at Amelia for approval, then circled the table, letting everyone look me over. I was deep in my humiliation, blushing so badly it reached over my shoulders and down to my tits by the time I stood back at the front of the table. But I was also fucking horny, turned on by their admiring looks and the tell tale fidget brought on by their excitement.

"Are you ready?"

Ambrose placed his hands on my shoulders and guided me back to the table. I had to stand at my seating place, leaning forward for the table to support me. I was posed naked, with what there was of my little tits thrust forward. Amelia and the eyes of their two eager guests watched me intently.

"Huh."

Having an audience heightened my responses and I gasped as soon as his fingers brushed over my buttocks.

"Isn't she just perfect?" Ambrose asked the room.

No one disagreed. Except perhaps me.

"Watch her face. She takes it so well."

Amelia encouraged her guests, talking about me as if I weren't able to hear her.

"Huh."

Ambrose knelt behind me, kissing around my starfish. I'd learnt not to tense now. I relaxed and let him squeeze and gently tease my cheeks apart.

"Uhh."

My eyes circled the table. Henry was smiling Amelia was attentive as always, looking immensely pleased. Cordelia was positively excited. I think she might have had some latent attraction to girls. It was there in her eyes. What struck me was how none of this seemed new to them. Was I one of a long line of compliant little girls these people used for their fun?

"Uh."

I closed my eyes as his tongue circling and pressing at my opening pulled my focus onto the sensations. No matter what, it was immensely pleasurable.

"Fuck."

Everything relaxed, opening to accept the slithery feeling of his muscle gently licking and probing as his lips added more sensual variety.

"Huh."

"Oh. She's loving it. I remember you having that look."

My mind snapped alert at what Cordelia had said. Did she mean Amelia? Had she done this with Ambrose with her friends watching?

"Uhh."

He was pressing at my hole, tickling and exciting me. My pussy was alive, gushing its fluids to the point of escape, maddening me that its ache wouldn't be fully answered. Amelia's rules. Would she demand I masturbate after? That I put on a show for her friends? I was so horny, I wouldn't care if she did.

Ambrose stood up slowly, caressing me as he prepared himself. I felt his cock sliding through my crack the wetness of his spittle.

"Uhh."

Oils trickled between us, coating everything, trickling down my legs. His crown spread it around my little button hole.

"See the tiny tremble on her bottom lip as it goes in."

I hadn't been aware of that until now. But Amelia was right. My lip did tremble as Ambrose pushed his cock into my oiled passage.

"Huh."

Cordelia nudged her glasses up and sat forward to see me better. The swell of her tits pushed up, filling her dress and I couldn't resist staring. Smooth, creamy mounds that I momentarily imagined kissing in my heated arousal. She knew and it excited her.

Ambrose took his time. He always did. He took joy from just having his cock sitting in the warmth of my back passage as he caressed my hips and gave my buttocks gentle slaps.

"Uh."

I gasped at each one.

"Fuck her Ambrose."

Amelia, giving instructions again. Her face was set and determined. Eyes locked onto me so that she missed no detail.

"God."

Ambrose unclipped my hair and it fell around my face. Then he held my thighs with his strong hands, his fingers clamping my flesh as he started to fuck me. Long, slow thrusts I accepted with my growing familiarity with this act.

"Huh. Uh. Uh."

It was still tight, my ring still burned, but the fears, the tensions, the mental resistance had gone. And with that loss had come the delight it brought.

They watched me in silence. Hungry eyes feasting on my body as it bounced and jiggled. Each thrust becoming harder than the previous one.

"Uh. Uh. Uh."

As always, it was a long affair that took me to exhaustion. I fell forward onto the table, letting it take my weight. It only served to position my arse so that he could penetrate me deeper.

"Uhh."

Amelia's hand reached out and lifted the hair away from my face. I stared up into her eyes as I felt my orgasm building.

"Cum for us. Cum for me and my friends."

I came on command.

"Uhhh."

I heard the hushed gasp of joy from around the table and I reached out to grip the edge of the table on either side. Free of my need, I waited as Ambrose continued toward his own culmination.

"Uhh. Uh. Uh."

When it was done, Ambrose pushed my chair up behind me and I took that as an indication I wasn't supposed to dress. I sat, becoming a substitute for the table centre decoration.

"Bravo girl," Henry said.

"Amazing." Cordelia breathed her heat.

"Well played."

I forced a smile at their appreciation, listening to what became an appraisal of my degradation. I heard the excitement in all of them. I saw the little touches and brief, hot glances between them as they praised my beauty and Ambrose's stamina. Cordelia especially made comments glorifying his cock. Then, encouraged by Amelia, they started for the bedroom.

Left alone, I wondered if they were going upstairs for an orgy. I think that was a given. Me as the sweetener. The libido-enhancing pill to get them all suitably aroused. Not good enough for the main event.

I retrieved my dress and turned the light out before going through the linking corridor to my bedsit. What had I become? And how was it that I had grown to like it so much?

SEVEN

I think, after that night, I accepted fully that I was nothing more than a toy to Amelia and Ambrose. I understood that my life was comfortable and uncomplicated. I also understood that it was at a price. And above all else, I understood that I was enjoying it.

I'd never had a high opinion of myself, always feeling like the unwanted reject. Being abandoned as a baby did that. I made you question your worth. Rejection after rejection by employers only reinforced that lack of self-respect in adulthood. Perhaps that's why I was so critical of my looks. So to have Ambrose treat me with such reverence, even if it was just my arse, and for Amelia to gush over my beauty while I was doing it, gave me a feeling of value. But I also understood that it couldn't last forever. Nothing ever did.

I saved every pound of my allowance, determined that even if it made me something mercenary and unsavoury, at least I wouldn't find myself on the streets penniless at a moment's notice when they bored with their compliant little plaything.

There was no sign of that. Ambrose worked most days, and his attention to me was restricted to weekends and maybe a couple of times in the week at most. Otherwise, I lived as a welcome house guest. Amelia especially wanted to spend time with me. She was always slightly reserved, but never anything other than pleasant and friendly. She included me in everything. We went shopping together and she even attempted to teach me to cook. I was pretty shite at it.

Other than when I was required to perform, she didn't mention it. Another woman I might have suspected of jealousy. But it wasn't that either. It was just a disconnect between the person she treated as a toy and the one she wanted as a friend. Yes, it did feel like that and I did grow to like her immensely. I felt a need to please her. As much as I did Ambrose. Sometimes I wished she'd want to touch me. My feelings were becoming confused in so many ways.

Other than the people who'd come to dinner that time, I didn't get the sense Amelia had any other friends. I'd even go so far as to label her lonely if it weren't for my company.

But of course, I was always reminded of my place when she or Ambrose initiated what they called our play. And I did my best to please them.

"Uhh. Fuck."

I was on my knees this time, with my face on the floor and my hands in Amelia's as she watched my reactions intently, asking questions as she did.

"Is he getting it nice and deep?"

Another thrust confirmed he was.

"Fuck yes."

I squeezed her hands tightly as he seemed to find extra energy to pummel my arse.

"Can you feel his balls?"

"They're hitting my clit."

She seemed to delight in discussing my experience as I was fucked. Hearing me say my ring was on fire, or that his cock was so big in my arse excited her. She loved me to tell her how horny and in need I was. And she positively danced when I orgasmed.

"Oh, Mary. That's so wonderful. I can see you enjoyed that. And so did you Ambrose. Was she a good little girl?"

"Absolutely. I knew she would be the first time I looked at her arse in that alleyway. It was so smooth and peachy."

"And what about you Mary? How did you feel letting him look that first time? Did it make you horny?"

I thought back to that evening. One of the weirdest experiences I'd ever had. But nothing to what had followed.

"Embarrassed. Aroused. I don't know why I did it. It was humiliating. But I was ... excited by it. It's hard to explain."

"Did you get off after? When you went home? Did you make yourself cum thinking about it?"

She was like a little child in a candy shop. A woman on heat, squeezing the last vestige of a thrill from me. I expected she would take Ambrose upstairs and ride his cock for hours when she was done asking me questions. I didn't disappoint her.

"Yes."

"And are you going to masturbate tonight? When you go to your room?"

I stood, holding my clothes, wondering how to answer that. Amelia didn't wait.

"You do, don't you? You masturbate after. You like to cum with your pussy, don't you?"

"I blushed and decided I couldn't deny it when my face was advertising the truth.

"Yes."

That excited her far more than it should have.

"Do it here, while we watch.

I want to see."

I quivered. She was asking me to give up that last remnant of privacy I retained. I knew she was on the verge of reminding me I'd been invited to their bedroom as a witness to their sex. She was only asking me to return that. And it was something that'd briefly crossed my mind at the dinner party.

I dropped my clothes to the side and thought about how I wanted to do it.

"Okay. Fetch the popcorn and make yourselves comfortable." I joked to make myself feel better about the idea.

I chose the floor, on the rug to put on my show. God knows I was horny. I always came when he fucked my arse. It followed as night followed day that I needed to give my clit and pussy more direct attention immediately after.

I lay on the rug with my knees up and closed my eyes, slowly caressing my crossed arms to raise my mood. I breathed in the scent of my naked body. Sweat and the smell of fresh arousal mixed with moisturiser and body spray from my earlier shower. The horniness was there, tingling and demanding I give in to it.

I began as I liked to when not rushed, with fingers gently dragging over my belly. Little tingling sensations raced over my skin and fresh flushes of heat reddened my cheeks.

Restless legs stretched out holding tightly together with pointed toes, before twisting to the side. Then bending again at the knees with clenched thigh muscles to squeeze my vulva.

"Huh."

I could feel the heated excitement, the dull ache of an unscratchable itch.

My fingers moved up, painted nails tracing a line around almost non existent tits. To nipples already swollen hard. Pink beacons of my body's need. I could sense their ache. A tiny throb that wouldn't die. I gave my flesh a gentle squeeze, pressing what there was of my mounds toward one another, not quite enough free flesh to meet. I let them spring back into place before moving towards those aching tips to answer their incessant call for attention. Just circling at first while my desire rose. Finally, I took each one between a finger and thumb and gave a little twist and tug. Tender, sensitive little nubs of pure joy.

"Uhhh."

"Ooh. So sexy." I heard Amelia whisper.

Was it to me, or to Ambrose? My eyes stayed closed, keeping me in the moment.

"Uh."

I threw my head back and that first deep breathy groan of delight escaped my lips at the pleasurable sensations shooting through my torso from those two tiny points. I rolled my nipples back and forth, pulling gently to glean even more ecstasy. Enlivened nerves fired jolts of pleasure through me, reaching down to my fast-dampening pussy as though it were directly connected by wire.

My legs were taken by a frustrated dance, feet stretching out sharply before my knees rising and falling. I lifted them into the air, exposing that much loved arse to them again. I reached down running a palm over my snatch, between my thighs and around to my butt. I pushed at the starfish I could never see but seemed so pretty to Ambrose. Just enough to tease it. Then I let my feet fall, bringing fingers back up the length of my slit. I parted my legs, forcing them wide until I felt the strain at the hips. I felt the first urge to plunge fingers into my pussy.

I held back, returning to work my tits as behind closed eyes my mind concentrated on the enjoyment of my own body. My legs continued their ballet across the rug as my torso joined in, twisting and turning. A writhing that heightened my excitement.

"Mmm.

Fuuuck." I voiced my pleasure in a trembling mutter.

"So good.

So... fucking good."

My little stuttering vocal calls remained soft and sexy, driven only by a deep want that grew and grew in the pit of my belly. My stomach turned somersaults as a thousand butterflies took flight and I began to gulp sharp breaths. My heart pounded with the sound of war drums in my ears. A desperate need to feed my body with oxygen heaved a chest beginning to glisten with perspiration and my nipples pushed skywards.

Then I could stand it no more and both hands slid downwards over silky smooth flesh to the tops of my legs. I spread my fingers, letting their tips find the outer edges of a soft vulva, already wet from my nectar. I flexed firm thigh muscles as I let my right hand ride over the enticing slit nestled between them. My fingers became soaked in my juices, a fine lubrication to my movement that squelched as I pressed heavier.

I imagined the feel of a cock inside me, the taste and texture of warm cum in my mouth. Things I had experienced far too few times. Experiences I wondered if I'd ever have again amongst Amelia's rules. But wanking also carried its own attraction. I didn't need to be pleasing another person's needs and wishes. It's just the unadulterated excitement of my erogenous zones. That was my focus. It wasn't for the attentive eyes of my audience. It was for me. As it would be alone in my bed. They were just a little extra fanning of my fire.

"Uhhh."

I traced a finger up and down my slit, deeper with each passing, parting the tender folds of flesh. Like finely sliced ham they parted and I felt fresh, warmer wetness.

"Uh."

My mind was consumed by a wanton desire to feel satisfaction. An overwhelming need to cum. I pushed a finger inside, slowly, to enjoy the tingling of excitement. Then another. I drove deep, fighting against muscles that contracted around my digits. Sparks of joy fired from my pussy and my back arched as I gasped.

"Uh. Fuck. Fuck."

Like a tiny cock two fingers moved in and out with a slow determination.

"Ooooh."

I held still. A moment of relief, an extension to expand my pleasure, before the frustration built again, demanding that the call be answered. Again, but faster. I couldn't have stopped even if I'd wanted to. My body was on an inescapable flight towards the cliff edge. Only the satisfaction of cuming, of orgasm, would end my torment.

With a life of their own, my fingers rubbed and caressed the velvety tender flesh of my tunnel while an as yet still untouched pleasure nub burned ever brighter. Ever more demanding.

"Uhhh."

Without direction I writhed on the floor, wanting to fuck myself into oblivion. My other hand was back at my tits, squeezing and tugging on nipples that hurt from their engorgement. Manicured fingernails dug at the tips trying to elicit just the right amount of pain, to mimic the sensation of having a man bite them. I wanted to twist and squeeze them until they hurt and I did.

"Uhh."

All the while those two fingers were stretching and pushing into a hungry tunnel, eliciting a flood of womanly juices. I could hear the squelching louder. I could smell the sweetness of my sex filling the room.

Only I existed in that moment. Only my primal need had any meaning. My body was on fire, every nerve ending triggering. I settled into a steady rhythm of finger fucking my nectar-filled hole, concentrating only on my arousal.

"Oh god."

I couldn't ignore my clit any longer. I circled its tiny hot bean, teasing it. I sensed its swelling, its heat, the thousands of burning nerve endings that existed only to send me into oblivion. I peeled away its protective hood and flicked my finger across it. So much joy it was unbearable. I jolted and gasped.

"Uhhh."

I spread my legs wide again, opening access for my hand, letting the cool air of the room momentarily ease my heat. I wanted, needed, to cum. I had to cum.

I flattened my hand and began an inexorable circling over my sopping pussy. Faster and faster, harder and harder. I slipped the middle finger back inside, allowing it to massage the entrance to my tunnel as my hand continued its relentless rubbing.

"I so want to cum."

"You can cum Mary. Cum for us." A whispered response that floated into my ears as if from some invisible sex deity.

I knew it was happening when my chest tightened and my leg muscles tensed. I focused only on the moment, determined not to lose rhythm.

My body jolted as though electrocuted and I came with all the power of nature. Intense sparks of pleasure coupled with spasms that gripped and tried to suck my finger deeper.

"Fuuck," I screamed without control.

My fingers pressed into my tunnel, squeezing my clit as I felt the tsunami race over me.

"Yesss."

I jerked and shuddered uncontrollably, shuddering as though possessed. I was consumed by a pleasure, by a delight only sex can bring. It was stronger than ever. Shear euphoria.

"Oh my God."

I spasmed again, then lay still as my breathing subsided. Without even thinking I raised cum sodden fingers to my lips and tasted my juice, gently sucking them clean. I didn't even know I was smiling as I opened my eyes.

I saw Amelia's appreciative stare. She was still a woman mesmerised by my show. More so than Ambrose. And his stiff cock resting in her hand was testimony to where his attention was turning. I was the warm-up act. Now he was more intent on fucking his wife.

I gave a little giggle as I sat up cross-legged on the floor. I brushed long orange hairs away from where they stuck to the sweat on my face

It felt good knowing that in a few minutes they would be fucking with the image of me in their heads.

I felt good. I felt immensely satisfied and relaxed. I just wasn't sure how much of it was from orgasm and how much was the thrill of doing it for their Voyeurism.

"That was beautiful," Amelia said.

"To see you cum so naturally was incredible."

I averted my eyes, smirking as another rush of blood heated my cheeks.

"I hope I've inspired you."

"Oh. You have."

She pulled Ambrose to his feet and put her arms around his neck. A fully clothed woman hugging her naked husband as they kissed with a hunger.

They went up the stairs after and I sat for a while longer, lounging in my nakedness on their sofa. My situation was surreal. Luxury living and sexual gratification, of sorts. Not conventional or on my terms. And every day, I was pushed just that little bit further. But it was far more satisfying than I ever had previously.

I felt I would miss it when it finally came to an end.

EIGHT

The two dinner party guests came back the following weekend. Henry and Cordelia. She reminded me of a secretary with her hair up and big glasses. Rich lip gloss just added to the impression. She looked amazing in a short dress but I couldn't help think she'd look even better in a black skirt and white blouse. The PA or librarian look would suit her. And she had incredible tits that just made me disappointed with my pathetic offerings. I felt inadequate with my dress hanging from my shoulders as if I were just a hanger in the wardrobe. I suppose my hips and arse filled it nicely, but that just emphasised the lack of anything upstairs.

For the first time in my life, I found myself seriously thinking about female breasts in more than just a jealous way. Would they be weighty in the hand? How would it feel to nuzzle into them?

"Do you find Cordelia attractive, Mary?"

I'd been caught staring.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I want to know?"

I blushed, glancing back at Cordelia. She seemed entertained by the idea, just as keen to hear my answer.

"Yes. She's very beautiful."

"Mmm.

Let's all have a drink."

And that was that. They'd had their answer and Amelia had moved on, becoming the perfect host. I hoped I hadn't offended her.

I got my answer to that about an hour later.

"We're going to have a change of play tonight."

I was suddenly alert to the fact that Amelia was directing her words to me above everyone else. My eyes darted around realising I was suddenly the centre of attention.

"Normally Cordelia and Henry like to have a fun time with us. But tonight, we offered you."

My mouth dropped open.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm in the mood to watch a show." She said.

"So we thought you could be the extra for our guests. And you get to have some fun with someone new. And a chance to show us how much you like Cordelia. But don't forget poor Henry."

I held my composure as her intentions were made clear. Henry was a fine-looking bloke. Someone I might have said yes to in the pub. Cordelia was... well she was pretty, but she was a woman. A very feminine one. How did I feel about that? How did I feel about being rented out? Did I have no control over who stuck their cock in my body?

I reminded myself I lived here free of charge for a price. Perhaps it was a more expensive one than I'd thought it to be.

Cordelia was giggling like an excited schoolgirl.

"Ooh. You're going to be so sweet and juicy on my taste buds."

I only smiled as my mind raced to decide what should do. What could I do? But then Cordelia was promising some tongue on my starved clit. And perhaps I'd even get some cock. The rage that took hold in my groin stifled any objection.

Henry took my hand as we all headed upstairs to one of the bedrooms. I let him lead me obediently. The puppy being lent out to play. In front of me, Cordelia's hips swayed with each stair step. I saw the curve of her arse and narrowing of her waist. I couldn't help but consider what lay beneath that dress, between those shapely thighs. What was I expected to do for her? I felt fluttery as the voice in my head told me I would have to lick her pussy.

Amelia clapped her hands and circled the bedroom, utilising its full space with the expertise of an experienced ring master.

"Okay. A few rules."

Oh fuck. What were the rules? That didn't sound good for me.

"Henry. Only Mary's arse." Amelia said firmly.

"No pussy. No blowjobs."

Farmed out to her friends but I was still to be denied cock. Was she for real?

"For you Cordelia..."

If she said no tongue, I was going to scratch her eyes out.

"... no restrictions."

I quivered as despite my uncertainty of being with a girl, I saw some salvation for the torment she forced upon me.

"Now. Undress. And let the fun begin."

She swept Ambrose up with her arm and took him to sit on a comfortable-looking chesterfield, positioned perfectly for them to watch from. She tucked her feet up and snuggled his arm.

"It's just like an evening in front of the TV."

I wondered just what Amelia watched on her TV. Anything IMB listed as having nudity in it I suspected.

Cordelia seemed to take charge from that point.

"Let's get started then."

When she took her glasses off, her eyes were still just as big. Unbelievably cute. I was finding myself warming to this idea. Her dress dropped next, unclipped by Henry in a reveal that had him watching my reaction. With a smile, he began removing his shirt.

Cordelia's tits were nothing short of amazing. A reminder of what a disappointment I would be. I wanted to touch them there and then. To have the curiosity I'd had downstairs satisfied.

I realised they were looking at me, waiting expectantly. It was my turn to show flesh. I reached behind and released the clasp holding my own dress in place. It dropped away, unhindered by tits and sliding freely over my arse.

"Oh look at you."

They were both with me, naked, rubbing up against me.

"Huh."

My heat rose, bringing me alive. Two mouths suckled my nipples. My tits might be small, but those nubs brought me immense pleasure when treated just right. Henry's hand was squeezing my arse. Cordelia slid her hand inside my panties and my groin was attached from front and rear. I was suddenly aware of how wet I was.

"Uhh."

My knees trembled and threatened to give way as a finger teased my slit open.

The warm touch of another person on my pussy was welcome whoever it came from. Her searching fingers gliding through the folds of sensitive wet flesh were heaven after so long. After so much torture by Amelia's rules.

"Aw fuck."

Henry removed my panties. Standing behind me, he slid them down to my feet before kissing my backside all over.

"It's a peach." He muttered before continuing.

"Ambrose you old devil. You're such a lucky man."

Cordelia slid down my front and rewarded me with her mouth on my pussy. Poor Ambrose was never this lucky. More significantly, neither was I.

"Uhh."

I shuddered and swayed, so grateful to have something warm invading my sex.

I glanced at our audience. Two people entwined, watching intently while touching and caressing one another through their clothes.

"Huh."

A warm, flexible muscle teasing my clit made me forget everything else. It was all I could do to stay upright as another tongue found my starfish.

"Oh my god."

Cordelia eased back on her action, moving to kiss the insides of my thighs and my belly.

"We can't have you cuming just yet."

Oh yes she could. I needed it. Being denied. Being made to wait just increased my want.

When she stood, I found myself sandwiched between them, with Cordelia pressing against me. When her nipple brushed against mine it was electric. I shuddered. A moment later and we kissed. Soft lips and the taste of citrus. It was magical.

I went willingly when I was guided to the bed. They could do as they wanted so long as my agony was relieved.

"Face down," Cordelia whispered.

I climbed over the quilt and lay on my front. I knew what was coming and welcomed it.

Henry held me to the bed by my neck as Cordelia tipped oil over my backside.

"I just love it when Henry puts it in my arse.

You will too."

She ran her hands through the oil, covering me before pushing her finger against my sphincter muscle, easily slipping past its attempt to remain closed.

"Uh."

"Ooh. So tight. You're going to enjoy this Henry, darling."

That finger worked me as Henry pushed my legs wide.

"Oh Christ." I cried out.

The finger had gone. Hands held my cheeks apart and his cock was finding its way in. I wriggled, only succeeding in taking it deeper. I think my eyes rolled back into my head at the sting from my ring.

Henry fucked me with a slow relentlessness as Cordelia caressed my arms and back. She pressed her fingers to my lips and I sucked her digits. I gave myself fully to the sensuousness of my climbing arousal, becoming nothing more than a sexual creature.

"Uhh. Uh."

Time stretched out. My need increased with the pressure of every thrust into my arse. My clit took its excitement from the rough material of the quilt rubbing over it, taking me on a glorious ride toward oblivion.

I lifted my hand to clasp one of those amazing tits just as I came. I squeezed it as if it were a stress ball as I cried out.

"Fuck. Yes."

For a moment, I was floating free in a sea of pleasure. Then suddenly I was back in my body, conscious of a pounding heart and deep breaths that burned my lungs.

"Oh god."

I stared up the bed as I fought to recover, finding Cordelia manoeuvring herself to put her silken legs around my head. So smooth and shapely. Sculptured, womanly legs. I saw her pussy just inches away. Hands were encouraging me forward and I shuffled toward it. A patch of dark hair sat above deeply coloured lips. Two small, delicately crinkled flaps that closed over her hole. I smelled its sweetness. I saw the dampness of her nectar escaping and I had to have it.

For the first time in my life, I wrapped my arms around soft thighs and kissed a girls pussy.

"Oh my god. That's fucking amazing. Uhh."

Cordelia twitched with delight as she cried out her joy and I was rewarded with the sweetest juice covering my tongue.

Henry remained sitting over me with his cock still driving into my arse with the same rhythmic strokes. Not quite as deep as before as he became more intent on his pleasure, enjoying the squeeze of my tight passage on his crown. I could feel its heat and throb. It drove me to devour Cordelia, licking her slit from the bottom all the way up to that brush of fur with the flat of my tongue.

"Uhh."

Encouraged by her moans, I pushed my tongue deep, swirling and licking. I ate her like a condemned man would consume a rich, last meal.

"Urh."

A warm expanding bubble and warm squishy feeling engulfed my arse. His cum seeped, seeking escape with the withdrawal of his cock.

He gasped, capturing his breath.

"That's the best arse ever."

A sharp slap that rippled over my buttocks emphasised his thoughts.

I imagined Cordelia might not be as pleased as I was hearing that. But then she was occupied with her enjoyment as my fingers peeled her open and I kissed her little clit.

"Ooh."

She screamed and jolted. I sucked it and flicked with my tongue. I felt evil. Torturous. Cordelia lost it.

"Oh fuck."

Her orgasm was a quivering shudder. Then a bucking fight to escape me. I held her as long as I could before she broke free.

"Fuck. Fuck."

Agitated cries and continuing quakes told me I had delivered my role perfectly. And she had been delicious. A taste I still savoured as I licked my lips.

Things changed from there. For a moment I wasn't the centre of attention. Husband and wife forgot me and engaged in a rolling embrace, kissing, wrapping their legs around one another. It was beautiful to watch. A naked horizontal ballet that culminated in his penetrating her. I was going to see them fuck and it excited me.

I didn't once take my eyes from them as Cordelia was laid back, her legs lifted by his hands for her feet to float freely in the air. Her thighs were spread wide as he began to fuck her.

"Uh. Uh. Uh."

Those big eyes stared up at his and her lips trembled with each breath. I needed to be part of it and sat up along side them, hooking an arm under the back of her knee to support her leg.

I let my hands glide over Henry's back, down onto his thrusting backside. Strong muscles pumped with determination. I squeezed Cordelia's tit, delighting at how soft and malleable it was.

"Uhh."

I watched them fuck, adding to their excitement with my touch and occasional kiss of his shoulder. My fingers tickled his balls and stroked the soft, hot flesh around her hole. They touched his cock as it went in and out of her. I touched myself, rubbing my clit to match their rhythm.

I came as Cordelia did. The two of us moaning our pleasure in unison. Her, kicking her legs in the air as she writhed under his attack while I writhed around on my knees.

Henry didn't finish, instead, he came for me again when Cordelia flopped with exhaustion. He pushed me backwards to lie over me. I saw his momentary disappointment at being contained by rules. Then my legs were lifted and pushed onto my chest. My arse rolled upwards and he was invading my backdoor a second time.

"Uhhh."

It went in easier this time and I felt the sheer pleasure of being shafted while firmly held in place.

"Uh. Uh. Uh."

Cordelia took to squeezing and tugging my nipples. Nips of pain followed by gentle rolling. Absolute ecstasy.

Henry came quickly, filling my arse a second time as I reached my finish with a frantic rub of my clit.

"God. Fuck."

Henry was ecstatic.

"Oh my god. That was amazing."

Next to him, Cordelia was purring, still placing little strokes on my arm and touches of my tit. I was lying in a blessed delirium, bathed in joy.

I saw Amelia and Ambrose creeping away to their room when it became clear the show had come to a close. They'd fuck relentlessly after watching us. I imagined this couple would hear them from the next room for some time.

Cordelia's attention was turning to snuggling, wrapping her arms around an exhausted Henry and I realised it was time for me to exit.

I extricated myself from beneath them and slipped away on unsteady legs, leaving my dress to be retrieved the following morning.

It'd been an unforgettable evening. One I could be equally thrilled or disgusted by. It was merely a question of my perspective. What I couldn't escape was that feeling of having had some great sex. Even to the point that Cordelia had successfully removed my need to masturbate before I could sleep.

Climbing into bed, I satisfied the doubting voices in my head with the assurance that these people had absolutely no inhibitions and felt no guilt at enjoying themselves, so why should I? I accepted it as they did. As empowering.

I slept soundly.

NINE

Cordelia and Henry went home after breakfast and we spent Sunday relaxing as a threesome in the garden. One of the last warm days of the year before autumn brought wind and rain.

I was taken by the normality of it. We talked and laughed. We drank cool drinks and sniggered about the night before.

Talk of sex and how great it felt to be fucked seemed free of the embarrassment and need to keep things private. It felt liberating. I think it was that afternoon that I finally let go of any sense that I could be a chaste girl-next-door type. Instead, I became someone who would never be with a nice boy, taken home to be introduced to mum. I was a dirty bitch, and I didn't care.

Monday brought a surprise. One that I hadn't expected, over an afternoon coffee. It came slowly, frightening me with an understanding that just as I was embracing their liberal attitudes, I might have it all snatched away.

"You still think us very strange, don't you?"

Aside from my not knowing where this conversation would go, Amelia looked just like any other young lady sitting at her table to drink coffee with a friend.

"Yes," I said honestly

"Tell me why."

Where to begin. And would it offend her? I sipped my coffee.

"This arrangement isn't exactly normal behaviour, is it?"

"Unconventional. Yes. I prefer that word."

"Like a concubine."

I didn't mind that word any longer. I accepted that it was what I was.

She smiled.

"So what do you find strange?"

She pressed.

"Okay.

The fact that you want your husband to fuck my arse. That he isn't allowed to do anything else with me. That you want to watch. That you invited me into your bedroom to watch you and Ambrose fucking."

I reeled it off.

"Inviting your friends to watch me getting it up the arse. Not to mention passing me to them. Oh and still the same rule that he wasn't allowed to fuck me normally.

I mean. Does any of that sound like it isn't strange to you?"

She calmly drank her coffee before responding.

"I'd call it unconventional."

"Strange. Unconventional. Weird. Call it what you want. What you can't call it is normal."

Her mouth cracked into a smile.

"Which bit of it didn't leave you horny?"

I laughed.

"I just don't understand you."

"Not answering the question.

Do you enjoy it? Do you truly enjoy your role? Does it make you horny for more? Do you cum so strongly you think your clit will explode?"

Her eyes bore into me. Laser drills that tore through any pretence of objection. My lips quivered when I answered in little more than a whisper.

"Yes."

"Do we treat you well otherwise?"

"Yes. Of course you do. I love our time together."

Had I pushed it too far? Would she tell me to leave?

"You like living here?"

I trembled at the thought she was about to call time on our arrangement. At any time before I wouldn't have minded. Suddenly, I didn't want to leave.

"Your home is lovely. Of course I do."

"So you like being our concubine?"

If I answered that, I'd be giving up my soul.

"If you were to give it up, would you find an equal pleasure elsewhere?"

It felt like I was at a crossroads. Give myself body and soul, or go back out into the world.

"No. I'd miss it."

"I've never touched you. Not once. But you enjoyed Cordelia. Would you like us to enjoy one another like that?"

I didn't consider myself gay, but it was true. I had liked Cordelia touching me. And I had given her pleasure willingly. I wanted that again. What did Amelia want? Was she only a spectator, or did she have hidden ideas?

"Maybe. If it was what you wanted? If you liked being with another woman."

Again that long consideration.

"Do you miss not having a cock in your pussy?"

"Yes." I laughed.

"Yes. I do. Ive grown to like anal, but it leaves me, in need of more."

"The reason you masturbate after?"

"Yes."

I didn't even blush at saying that out loud. And I felt no shame that they had watched me do it. I'd do it again, right now, if she asked.

Amelia finished the last of her coffee and I was left wondering what she would say next.

She stood up and cleared the cups away to the dishwasher before turning to lean on the worktop. I was quaking with fear that I'd be packing at any moment, considered too much of a risk to her marriage.

"Ambrose is such a darling husband. He's like a little puppy really. Does whatever I ask of him. In the bedroom and outside of it. He's an amazing accountant and works hard. It pays for this house and the big car. He also has amazing stamina. That cock can stay hard and go for hours. That's what attracted me to him in the first place. That and the fact that he looks fucking incredible."

"He is good-looking," I added.

"But, I'm not what you'd call conventional when it comes to sex."

No shit.

"I'm not someone who wants to sleep around, not outside of our circle. But I'm also not someone who can settle for missionary twice a week. I need constant stimulation and to do things that would horrify many people.

I like watching others, as you know. I like girls as much as men, although I haven't indulged since university.

Without me, Ambrose would probably have been a wonderful husband to some frumpy housewife and been happy. With me, he's ecstatic. I give him everything a man could want. Even another woman."

I listened intently. Amelia had been a closed book to me since the first time I'd met her. No matter how friendly, she had only allowed me to see just what she wanted me to see of her. Now she was opening up. Where it would end I had no idea, but I was along for the journey as she spilled her thoughts.

"Our friends are my friends from university. People who are as kooky as I am. Exhibitionists and swingers. Ambrose loves to watch them as I do. And as much as they like to be watched. And we swap around, sometimes with them watching us. Occasionally, we might swap partners. But always when they've gone home, we fuck, and we fuck. And it is amazing."

She hesitated for a moment.

"Henry and Cordelia were a couple at university. I was their concubine. They were the ones who taught me the rules I apply. A game we played for a year, until I met Ambrose. So you see, I know the torment of only being allowed cock in your arse. And of how horny it came make you."

That surprised me. I didn't see Amelia as subservient under any circumstances. She was the strong one, giving instructions. Now I was learning she had done as I did, bending over for a man to empty his balls in her arse while getting nothing in return.

Amelia glanced away for a moment and I sensed weakness. A fear. When her eyes returned to me she was focused like never before.

"I want to know that you understand all this?"

"I do."

"And is it still weird?"

I nodded.

"Yes. But weird isn't always bad."

"Do you want to be part of it? Forever? Do you want security and real satisfaction rather than feeling as if you're on the outside?"

I analysed her words. I was indeed at a crossroads. She was giving me a choice. She went on.

"Until now, you've been a dalliance. That's why I have the rules. That and I like to be dominant these days. If you tell me you understand this. If you give me your commitment to this lifestyle, the rules go. I'll let Ambrose fuck you. Every pussy needs cock. And ... I think every pussy should enjoy the delights of a woman's expert tongue.

So, Mary. Do you want in, fully? Or do you want to remain a plaything for a while longer, until you decide your path takes you somewhere else?"

Holy fuck.

"Does, fully in, mean your friends as well?"

"It means everything and anything. Anything fun. That makes you cum. I've told you that I love sex. I do. I love everything about it. Anything that brings that wonderful feeling of joy that so absorbs us for those few fleeting seconds. I will do anything for it. Will you?"

"Ambrose is okay with this?"

"Yes. We've discussed it and he knows I'm talking to you today.

I'm supposed to ring him with your answer."

Even a day ago, I might have struggled. Perhaps tipped into it by financial considerations rather than true acceptance. The course of least resistance that had brought me here in the first place. A night with her friends had opened up what was possible. And with the lifting of her rules, it was much easier to decide. To give a genuinely felt answer.

"So which is it to be?"

I didn't hesitate.

"Yes. An emphatic yes." I said confidently.

Amelia looked ecstatic.

"Thank you."

She drank more of her coffee and smirked before speaking again.

"Do you remember I spoke about your being a companion. As in older times?"

"Yes."

"Those companions were sometimes more than just a friend who shared shopping trips and drank coffee together. Sometimes it was a euphemism for a relationship society that time wouldn't have approved of."

I blushed, knowing exactly what she meant.

She held her hand out to me.

"Come to the bedroom. It's time we became properly acquainted.

Ambrose can find out your answer for himself when he gets home"

As I let her lead me up the stairs I realised my life had changed forever. I was about to stop doing these things to survive and start doing them for the real reason I did them. Because I wanted to. Because, like Amelia, I craved that height of delirium. That moment I experienced absolute joy.

Amelia, through Ambrose, had opened up that side of me. I'd kept my liking of it at arm's length through fear of losing it. I'd hidden behind the money he gave me to justify why I did it. I let go of all that self explanation and justification and accepted that I just fucking loved dirty sex as much as she did.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"Oh, Mary. I think you are exquisite."

"Even my flat chest and freckles?"

Her smile was the warmest I'd ever seen it.

"Your freckles fascinate me. They bring interest to your face. I love how they appear when you're all hot and sweaty."

She lowered her eyes to look at my chest.

"And your tits are not so nonexistent as you claim. There's just enough to keep my lips very happy."

She sucked my whole tit into her mouth and teased my swollen nipple.

"Uhh."

Amelia was every bit as expert as Cordelia. Not surprising as I was now aware that they had practised together plenty of times. And now I got to join in.

"Uhh."

A finger in my arse and another in my pussy, pressing toward one another ticked all the boxes for me, especially when she licked my clit.

"Holy fuck."

Amelia was every bit as wonderful as Cordelia. Taller and more slender. Her tits were more pendulous, they felt great in my hands when I lifted and held them. And she smelled and tasted just as good. Her pussy was like sipping the finest sweet wine. Her body was a never-ending source of discovering new ways to arouse her. And in return, she took me to heights of unimaginable pleasure using every part of her body against mine.

Until now, Amelia had been the Ring Master. The slightly aloof director of all that happened to me. Now I saw the little teenage girl in her who had once been equally as happy playing the role of submissive to Cordelia. We fucked all afternoon before showering together.

Then we went back to bed, just to lay and talk.

"So am I a real concubine now?"

"I think so. But a modern one. You get the financial security and promise of commitment. But you're an intrinsic part of us and will have equal influence over our family affairs just as those concubines of old. Except, in an age of equality, I get to have the sexual favours as well as my husband."

She rolled and kissed me again. Long and hard as she pinched and twisted one of my nipples.

"And if you haven't already worked it out, I can be insatiable."

When I turned my head I saw Ambrose sitting quietly, watching us. I'd been so absorbed I hadn't noticed him slipping into the room. I smiled.

"Come and join us," Amelia told him.

Ambrose stood up and undressed. When I saw his hard cock my libido came to life. This time I'd have his cock properly. I'd savour it with my lips and have it sink deep into my pussy. This time we'd fuck properly. He could have my arse whenever he wanted it. But in future, my clit wouldn't go tormented by my being denied the pleasure of his cock filling my pussy.

"Mind if I just watch for a while?"

I giggled at Amelia's whispered request.

"Not if you're close. I don't want you to miss anything."

I put my arm up as Ambrose came to me, wrapping it around his neck to pull him close. For the first time, he faced me. I felt his body between my legs. His cock sliding against me. We kissed. Then I behaved as his equal. Instead of waiting for direction, I took the initiative. I rolled us so that I was on top. Then under Amelia's gleeful gaze, I kissed his body. All the way down to his cock. I kissed his shaft. I kissed his balls. Then I put my lips around his crown.

It felt warm and smooth. Hard. Alive, as if slightly detached from its owner. It felt amazing in my mouth. Not the first cock I'd sucked, but most certainly the first I took time to make oral love to. This was for my pleasure as much as it was for his. And I felt it with my whole being.

"Oh, that's so beautiful to watch." Amelia purred.

"Take your time. I like seeing it in your mouth."

All my life I'd felt passed along, rejected or torn from anything that I could call my own. Perhaps someone else might think being the third person in a marriage was still not having something of my own. I didn't agree. I felt I belonged somewhere, with people who cared for the first time in my life.

It seemed I'd found happiness in my troubled life at last. Perhaps I'd taken the back way, quite literally, but I'd found my place of sanctuary in an unpleasant world at last.

As Amelia caressed my tit while I continued to suck Henry's wonderful cock she whispered again how beautiful I was. I felt another first. I felt that perhaps I might be.