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Entertaining at Home

This is a first submission to the site so all comments are welcome. I hope for constructive and appreciative but have more realistic expectations :). This is a long one. If, like me on occasions, you are looking for a 'quick fix' this is not for you. I would be pleased if fans of the longer format would cast critical eyes over what I've done and point out my strengths, if any, and shortcomings, which I am sure are legion.

*****

I sighed a satisfied sigh and rested my hands on my hips above the waist band of my jogging pants as I looked down at the black plastic bin liners which filled at least half of the spare room. They contained all of my, soon to be, ex-husband's clothes and other belongings. The house was beginning to feel as if it was, at last, mine alone. The rain on the windows provided a soothing backdrop as I pondered what to do next.

'A glass of wine and a long soak, I think.'

I smiled - you can talk to yourself when here is no one in the house - and wiped my hands on the T-shirt I had put on to do the cleaning. I felt myself frown, however, when I grazed the side of my breasts and thought about how long it had been since they had been touched by any hand but my own. It had been months. Maybe add that new vibrator to the list of evening relaxations.

I shook my head to get myself moving again and laughed as I remembered the events of the day. I recalled how livid I had been, shaking with anger, when, in my morning shower, my hand felt something strange on the surface of the soap I habitually used; something firm and slippery can always entertain. I had squinted open my eyes and through the steam and water recognised the unmistakable shape of a useless condom.

The waves of nausea which came over me as I realised what I had been stroking against myself and then the cold, hard determination to take action once I had scrubbed myself clean. The next image was that of the shock on Dave's face as I burst into his room and flung the used prophylactic at him. He had squirmed and shuffled away from me on the bed as if trying to escape a snake attack. The tousled head of his slut girlfriend emerged from under the covers; that was a morning blow job neither he nor the little tart would ever forget.

The marriage was declared over some six months previously. At the time it had been a relatively amicable decision, I remembered. The boredom, and then the bitterness, had been there for a long time. I had been surprised that when I tentatively broached the subject - I was feeling guilty about the enjoyment I had been getting from the brief affair with the office stud - Dave had admitted what I had long suspected: that he too had been playing away. Being able to lay everything out on the table and mutually reach a logical conclusion had a cathartic effect. We had agreed they would always be friends and, in fact, sealed the deal with the best sex they had had for years.

The problems built up over the succeeding months. The property market was at the bottom of it. It was agreed I would keep the house and I had arranged for the deeds and mortgage to be transferred to my name alone in a matter of weeks. Dave was to move out and get a place of his own. That was the plan. We had divided the kitchen cupboards and the fridge and begun separate lives almost immediately. I stuck to the TV and DVD player in the master bedroom - we had got it to watch porn in happier days - so Dave used the front room most evenings. We had slipped easily into a routine of cordial separateness. Polite greetings as we passed in the common areas, sharing left-overs when one cooked. I had been amazed at how tidy Dave could be when he had sole responsibility for his own mess. He took his washing to his mother's once a week.

The bitterness had rebuilt slowly. I accepted, at first, that he should wait for the right place to come along - given the state of the property market and all. I had tolerated being occasionally woken as he stumbled drunk into the house after a night out with the lads. I had tolerated the noise from the front room when he held the occasional lads' night in. The stink of someone else's perfume on his clothes left in a pile on the bathroom floor irritated, particularly as my own love life was far from satisfactory. I had never been one for one-night stands and neither of the two men I had hooked up with since the separation had lasted beyond the first date.

Our first fight after the separation happened when he broke the 'no lovers in the house' rule and I found a still half-drunk woman in the shower when I went for my bath one Sunday morning. She did not stay for the breakfast I found Dave preparing in the kitchen. I called my solicitor the next morning and asked her to expedite the divorce proceedings. The second tiff was a knock-down-drag-out ding-dong and was sparked when Dave arrived back at the house driving an upmarket sports car. The bastard had spent his house deposit on a boy toy. I had given him a month to get out and was fully prepared to change the locks If he did not.

The condom incident was a week later. That was the final straw. I screamed like a banshee and forced both of them out of the house into a suitably savage rain storm and Dave's new car. It had taken the rest of the day to get rid of the the smell of the bacon which had slowly burned in the pan as I raved at them.

I had collapsed in tears after they eventually left, but soon pulled myself together and got to work. The emergency locksmith had cost an arm and a leg it being Sunday, but the new keys on the hall table were worth every penny. I had emailed the solicitor to let her know what had happened and given Dave's mother's address for the service of papers. The rest of the day had been spent packing his stuff, none too gently. And now it was finished. I sighed again. The prospect of being enveloped in warm water, slowly stewing as the alcohol took hold, would be the perfect prequel to a marathon masturbation session.

The front doorbell rang just as I closed the taps from running my bath. I had been on my way to the kitchen to get the first glass of wine and tensed as I detoured to the door. With my hand on the latch I gave myself a moment to compose a mouthful of coherent abuse. Dave was not getting back in, not tonight, and not ever if I could help it.

'What?'

The rest of the prepared sentence - nay, speech -froze in my throat as I saw Steve's face grinning at me and I felt momentarily guilty for my aggressive tone. Steve was Dave's best mate and I had always liked and got on with him. In fact, I thought, not seeing him was one of the few things I would miss now Dave was permanently out of my life. He had a box of beer cans in his arms, but stopped mid-step as he realised I was not backing away and opening the door for him to come in.

'Er, Dave invited us over. For the match.'

Looking over his shoulder Susan saw that there were three or four more men coming down the path. Two had more beer and one carried a bottle of vodka. They were all wearing replica football shirts and she remembered Dave had said something about an international match and inviting a few people over.

'Dave's moved to his mother's, Steve. It was rather sudden. I imagine he forgot to mention it to you.'

I smiled inwardly but kept my tone neutral. Let Dave give them his version later. They were his friends after all. I noticed Jason, one of Dave's workmates, at the back of the group and got some satisfaction from seeing how wet he was getting. Jason is a prick of the first order. He had drunkenly propositioned me at each of the three Xmas parties I had been to whilst Dave worked for his current company. He is one of those people who refuse to take 'fuck off and die' as an answer.

'Well, yes, sorry to disturb you. But...'

Steve hesitated. Clearly he sensed my growing anger.

'... Would you mind if we came in whilst we arrange another taxi. We'd planned to make a night of it and it's pissing down out here.'

I reluctantly stepped back from the door determined not to be painted as the bad guy when they discussed the evening with Dave.

'Please try not to drip on the carpet. You can put your beer in the kitchen. Would you mind sitting in there whilst you make arrangements. You are all rather wet.'

That last was superfluous. They were dripping onto the carpet as they passed through the hall. It was obviously raining harder than I thought.

'I'll get you boys some towels.'

When I got back with a bag of Dave's towels (never mind, he'll be able to wash them I thought, wickedly) the kitchen was overflowing. The lads had piled their beer by the back door; it looked like a sculpture with the vodka providing the centrepiece. Steve was backed against the door obviously having a frustrating conversation with a taxi firm. I took in the three bedraggled hunks and the weasely Jason who were semi-slumped over the table. They were definitely better looking than I remember Dave's friends being. Two were dark, well-muscled and, as they started to stand when I came in, well over six feet. The third who also rose damply from his seat was also tall but slimmer than the other two and blond. I passed him the bag making sure I caught the still seated Jason with a corner as I swung it.

Steve clicked off his phone and swore before turning back to the room.

'Sorry, Susan, I didn't hear you come in. We're screwed.'

'Sorry.'

'I've called four firms and the story is the same with each one. There's been some sort of accident on the by-pass and with that and the match it'll be a couple of hours before we can get a cab.'

I made no attempt to hide my displeasure. My joy at finally seeing the back of my ex was being trampled down by these unexpected and unwanted guests.

'Well I guess I have no option but to invite you to stay then, do I?'

I could almost hear the collective sigh of relief. There were enthusiastic expressions of thanks coming from beneath the towels. They were reiterated as each in turn emerged looking drier and happier from beneath them. I handed the last towel to Steve and gestured him towards a breakfast bar stool. He was standing in a small puddle of water by the door.

'That is very kind of you. We shall endeavour to be of no inconvenience to you.'

The voice came out in a deep bass from one of the two brown-haired men. I could detect a distinct Eastern European accent behind the studied politeness. I found myself smiling down at him. He gave a small bow from his seat.

'Well, it's nice to meet a gentleman. Shall I make some coffee? Or would you prefer your beers?'

'The beer will be fine. We've troubled you enough. Thanks Sue, you're being great about this. Dave's a real prick.'

Steve looked slightly abashed. Whether it was because of his betrayal of his friend, or his unaccustomed politeness, I don't know.

'But what about the match?'

Jason whined like a little boy.

'Shut the fuck up, Jason'

That was the Steve I was used to. But anyone sticking it to Jason was in my good books.

'Is it important?'

'No. Well yes, I suppose so. First time England have been in the semis for decades. They're playing Poland.'

Steve nodded his head at the two dark men.

'We brought along a couple of sacrificial lambs.'

The five of them exchanged a few well meaning oaths.

'I was wondering where you found mates with such good manners.'

'This is Piotr - Pete - and, well we call him 'Wot', his real name is virtually unpronounceable.'

The two Poles stood and bowed as they were introduced. I shook hands with Wot and found myself blushing as Pete bent and kissed my hand as I offered it to him.

'You know Jason. Luke just started at the firm. He's from up north and I believe he has been brought up properly too.'

The tall blond followed Piotr's lead and bent and kissed my hand too. Jason just scowled at me from his seat. I saw the unopened bottle of red wine on the work top and thought about my cooling bath upstairs. I knew I was going to let them watch the game, so why not give in quickly.

'OK. But look, a few house rules. Take off those wet shoes and sit on the towels so you don't stain the furniture. Anyone spilling any beer will have their balls cut off.'

They had all started smiling at 'OK'. Piotr was translating the rest of my instructions to Wot and looked a little confused and embarrassed as he reached my threat.

'So please, if you do spill some, tell me it was Jason.'

Steve and Luke laughed, followed shortly afterwards by Wot and Piotr. Jason just kept scowling. Prick. Now Steve bent and kissed me on the cheek.

'You're a real star, Sue. I'll keep them all in order.'

Once they were ready I led them through to the front room. Dave had insisted on a massive TV. It dominated one side of the room. I closed the curtains, switched on the fire, passed the remote to Steve and nodded encouragingly as the boys spread towels on the sofa and two armchairs before sitting.

'I was about to take a bath so I'll leave you to it. Help yourselves to anything in the kitchen - I think there's some crisps - and I wasn't joking about severing Jason's testicles.'

I mock frowned as I turned and left. Steve and Luke were laughing and I heard the two Poles join in once they had had my threat explained to them. After topping up my bath with hot water I lay there listening to the man-noises drifting up from the floor below. I had never understood men's obsession with football; when I wanted to watch millionaires try and cheat their way into more millions while the world looked on and cheered, I read the financial pages. I tried to work out who was winning by the sounds drifting up from below; it was 1-1 in my estimation when I gave up.

The warmth of the water and the wrinkling softness of my hands as I washed myself all over took me to another place. A place where I was being stroked and probed by someone other than myself. Imagined naked images of Steve, or Luke, Piotr and Wot drifted in and out of my fantasy. Both hands were between my legs, fingers of my left probing for the G-spot whilst my right manipulated and stroked my clit. My panting breaths increased in frequency as I felt my orgasm building and when it came shouts and cheers from below drowned my own noises as waves of ecstasy spread through my body. I lay back breathing heavily.

There were more cheers and shouts - probably of dismay - as I hauled myself reluctantly out of the bath still shaking from my climax. I momentarily pictured myself as a slutty stripper and the cheers as coming from a panting group of punters as the last article of clothing was thrown to them from a well-lit stage.

'Stop it.'

I told myself playfully and reached for the towel warming on the radiator. I dried myself with extra vigour and mentally ran through the jobs I needed to do tomorrow to try and bring myself back to reality. 'Maybe I should have a party', I thought. Then, 'so much for getting back to reality'. I climbed into my super-soft, Egyptian cotton bath robe and hugged it around me before opening the bathroom door and, after a quick glance to see no one was on the landing, scurried to the safety of my bedroom and threw myself onto the bed.

I felt something poke me in the back as I landed. I pulled out the still-packaged vibrator which I had taken from its hiding place in my bedside cabinet as one of my first statements of my independence after getting Dave and his floozy out of the house this morning. I looked at it, shining invitingly in its clear plastic sheathing. It was the most expensive I had ever bought, the semi-realistic shaft augmented by branches for clitoral and anal stimulation. I shivered with anticipation before shoving it under the pile of pillows behind me. It would have to wait until the five guys downstairs had left.

I pulled myself upright ad to the mirror by my dressing table as I went through the ritual of drying and brushing my hair. The robe fell open in the process and as I stood I assessed my body with a critical, well, semi-critical, eye whilst applying body lotion. I liked my medium-sized tits with their small, puckered pink nipples. I pinched one appreciatively. My stomach is still flat - God bless the gym. Hips, perhaps a little too wide for some people, but everyone liked my legs. I smiled as I lathered them with the expensive unguent - my last Xmas present from Dave. A girl couldn't help but notice the glances they got, or, for that matter, overhearing male comments as she went about her life. I closed the gown again and returned to the bed, this time arranging myself more decorously.

I had picked up the TV remote and was about to switch it on when there was a tap at the door. After quickly checking that I was decent I invited whoever it was to come in. Steve's head appeared.

'Hi.'

He looked embarrassed and a little stuck for what to say next.

'Come in. And shut that door. There's a wicked draught, and I'm not wearing much.'

He shuffled into the room, reddening as he did so, and quickly stood erect with his back against it like a man facing a firing squad. I glanced down to check I wasn't flashing anything I shouldn't. I was not.

'We were wondering...'

He stopped again and looked down at his feet. I waited then nodded quickly for him to continue when he risked a quick glance up.

'Well, whether you'd care to join us. We feel guilty at imposing like this. And you've been so generous. And it'd be great. And ...'

He stuttered to a stop after the rush of words. He was looking down at his feet again. He reminded me of the first boy asking me out when I was fourteen. The image made me giggle a little.

'Sorry, I shouldn't have asked.'

He obviously took my reaction as a refusal and half-turned to escape, his hand on the door knob. Just like my first beau after his stuttered invitation.

'No, no. You just reminded me of something from my past. I, well...'

It was my turn to go red and silent. I did not really fancy an evening of football with a group of men, most of whom I didn't know and one of whom I actively disliked. But then, I had ruled out road-testing the vibrator and there was nothing worth watching on TV from what I remembered of the morning paper. So what else was I going to do? I took a deep breath.

'It's a kind invitation Steve, but really, you're all Dave's friends. You'd be embarrassed having me there.

He started shaking his head. I continued before he had a chance to speak.

'Yes you would. I doubt you're using language fit for mixed company whilst you watch and what would you say to Dave tomorrow?'

I saw him smile.

'Perhaps, but lots of it is in Polish and, be honest, it's nothing you haven't heard before. As for Dave, perhaps I shouldn't be saying this, I think he's an idiot for letting you go and the girls he's dating... Well, it's an embarrassment...'

,

After that I could not think of a reason to refuse. So I didn't.

'OK, you've persuaded me. Give me a few minutes to get dressed and I'll be down.'

'Great. I'll warn them to moderate their language. No promises, of course, but we'll try.'

He had a relaxed smile now and was staring down at me whilst speaking. I waited for him to go, but he continued checking me out, stretched full length on the bed as I was. He obviously liked what he saw and, I have to admit, I was enjoying his appreciation.

'Off you go then. I'm not getting dressed in front of you.'

The adolescent was back and he blushed and stuttered as he opened the door saying something about looking forward to seeing me in a few minutes. I lay back when he had gone and thought about what I should wear. My sporadic perusals of up-market women's magazines offered no guidelines that I could remember as to acceptable dress for entertaining tipsy football fans at home. Casual? Smart casual? Out-on-the-town outfit? I stood and went to my wardrobe. My eyes fell on the little black dress I had bought a few months ago. It fitted, I remembered from the changing room at the shop, like a glove. I had not had a chance to wear it out yet.
I held it up against my naked body. It was short, but not slutty short. Probably wildly inappropriate for watching football, but it would guarantee that whatever reports went back to Dave about how I was after kicking him out would not be what he expected.

'Yes, you'll do.'

I put the dress on the bed and rummaged in drawers for underwear. I own a lot of lingerie, I like to feel sexy beneath conservative office garb, but very little of it is black. In fact, I discovered I had no suitable black tights only a pair of stockings still in their packaging: Dave and I had enjoyed more than a few stocking-and-suspender fantasies in our happier days. I tossed them onto the bed and searched for the suspender belt and a matching bra and panties set.

I shook my head at myself in the mirror after putting on the underwear and stockings. Dave would cream himself if he could see me like this. I was looking good. I felt good too, despite the rational side of my brain telling me this outfit was the last thing I should be wearing this evening. A couple of dabs of perfume after I had pulled on the dress and I checked myself out again. Definitely hot, I decided, and rubbed a little more perfume between my breasts. I did not remember the neckline being quite so revealing when I had tried it on in the shop. The slightly-over-the-top stilettos topped off the outfit perfectly and shaped my legs perfectly, I thought. With a deep breath, I stepped out of the room.

I do not know what reaction I was expecting as I opened the door to the front room, but if I had had one I would have been disappointed. The only whistle was the referee blowing for half-time. The five of them, still sitting on their towels, I was pleased to see, were deep in conversation about some incident or another which had happened during the match. It was Luke who saw me first. He stopped speaking mid-sentence and just stared. As the others became aware of my presence as I leaned against the door jamb they just stared too. Did my confidence the world of good. Television pundits exuded on the game. Seemed appropriate.

'Hi lads. Sorry I interrupted.'

Steve was the first to regain the power of speech.

'Wow. You look... Really nice. Come in, thanks for coming down. Can I get you a drink? Sit down.'

He was babbling, but his eyes never stopped scanning my body. He was flushing slightly. I stepped into the room and kissed him on the cheek. He deserved it for the unspoken flattery. Pete and Wot were also on their feet and Luke unfolded himself from an armchair as I moved further Ito the room. Only Jason remained seated and he shifted quickly when Steve told him to give up his seat. Pete took one of my hands in both of his and, staring up into my eyes, kissed my hand again.

'You look stunning.'

He glanced across at Steve to make sure he had got the right words and received a reassuring nod. He too got a kiss, as did Wot for calling me 'beauteous'. I giggled as Luke approached.

'I don't know the Polish for 'knock out', so English will have to do.'

I went to kiss his cheek too but with my standing on tiptoes and he dipping his head we confused each other and out lips met briefly. His were warm and soft. Had we been alone I am sure I would have held the clinch, but the shock of the contact made me step back. I could feel myself going red. Luke himself stepped back as if he had been tasered, causing Jason to yelp as his toes were crushed beneath Luke's heel. The other three were laughing at the scene as Jason hopped about trying to hold his injured foot before falling to the floor.

We were all standing awkwardly manoeuvring in the room. The bulky furniture and the sizeable coffee table covered in empty cans gave little room. Jason hauled himself up still angry at his humiliation and squeezed between the bigger men to approach me.

'You look very doable. Can I have a kiss too?'

He stretched his neck forward, eyes closed and lips pursed.

'Shut the fuck up Jason. Oh, sorry Susan.'

Steve's quick riposte saved him from a punch in the mouth. That and Luke pushing him backwards into one of the armchairs. I could feel the other men's eyes looking at me waiting for my reaction to set the tone.

'Sit down and shut up Jason. Any more shit from you and I'll start offering favours to the gentlemen in the room to take you outside and leave you tied to a tree in the rain.'

'But all I said was...'

'Zip it Jason. Every time you open your mouth you embarrass yourself... And the rest of us. Just sit there and keep quiet.'

There was a slight menace in Steve's voice I had never heard before. He, too, had clearly had enough of the little creep.

'Better still, get off your arse, clear these cans from the table and bring us all some more drinks. What would you like, Susan? I'm afraid we only brought beer and lager. Oh, and Pete and Wot contributed a bottle of vodka.'

I was impressed with the change of his tone when he switched from berating Jason to checking my needs.

'I was going to open a bottle of wine. But, if it's OK with Pete and Wot, I'll have a vodka and coke.'

I waited for Pete to nod as he beamed at me.

'There are cans of coke in the fridge. You can put the empty cans in a black bag - they're under the sink - and put them outside the back door next to the bins. Give you a chance to think about being stuck in the cold and wet if you don't mind your lip, short arse.'

Whilst normally I try to be polite, I needed to get some of the venom out of my system. And Jason had been looking for a slap from the first time I met him. I felt pleased with myself for joining in the boys' banter. I don't know whether if was my words, or their laughter, but Jason slunk out of the room saying he's bring the bin bag in rather than risk spilling dregs on the carpet. I was impressed. Ever so slightly.

He was back in a minute, bag under his arm and my vodka and coke in a half-pint glass balanced on the top of the box of beers he clutched in his arms. Steve passed my drink to me and then set about dealing with the box as Jason cleared the empties. The sound of hissing can opening interrupted the clank of used cans being bagged. I took a sip of my drink and almost choked.

'Bloody hell, this is strong. 'Scuse my language.'

I coughed as the men laughed.

'Polish vodka. Best in the world.'

Wot grinned with pride like a little boy. I was not sure whether it was with his English, or the impact his national drink had made on me. My throat burned and I could feel a warm glow spreading through my body. We were all still standing, but the tone of the commentators announced the start of the second half and everyone looked to Steve to work out the seating arrangements.

'Why don't you sit here where Jason was sitting.'

He indicated the side of the sofa furthest from the TV.

'We'll leave him the armchair and I'll sit on the floor.'

Luke, Pete and Wot sat down, quickly engrossed in the TV. This despite the fact they hadn't actually kicked off yet. I plumped myself onto the sofa next to Luke who unconsciously moved to make sure I had enough room. I crossed my legs and pulled at the hem of my dress. Modesty was going to be difficult, I soon learned. The cushions are soft and I naturally sank backwards into the comfortable back support. The tops of my stockings were barely covered. I could feel Steve's warmth as he arranged himself on the floor with his back to the sofa arm. Jason had slunk back in and was sitting like a small black cloud in the deep armchair. All five of them were staring at the screen as if hypnotised. Steve and Luke, in English, and Piotr and Wot in Polish exchanged comments on the substitutions which both sides had apparently made during the interval.

I wriggled to get more comfortable, but could feel something sticking into my back for the second time that evening. I stretched back a hand to feel behind the sofa cushion without, hopefully, disturbing Luke too much. I pulled out what felt like a DVD cover. No one noticed. I looked at it to discover it held Gang Bang Gumbo V. I shivered slightly and took a quick slug of my vodka. That made me shiver some more. Gosh it was strong. I felt the warmth spread like it had last time. I took another surreptitious glance at the cover.

There were four separate illustrative cameos. Each was of a cum-covered girl's face. Two displayed their tits as well; equally creamy. One image had a few inches of an improbably thick cock squirting ejaculate into an eagerly open mouth. I felt the warmth spread to my pussy.

Dave is a big fan of the Gumbo series. Numbers I-IV were upstairs in one of his plastic bags. We used to watch them together. Porn nights were a regular part of our relationship. Usually Dave would do the ordering of the DVD from the Internet. We had tried streaming, but neither of us had enough technical nous to get downloads to play through the TV; hence the DVD player in the bedroom. The whole process became a sort of foreplay.

'I've ordered a new video'

He might mention over breakfast one morning. Usually him, but I have to admit to knowing my way around the ordering process myself. For the next day or two there would be a sense of expectation between us. Usually it was satisfied by a quick viewing of a favourite before sex and then sleep. If the brown cardboard- or envelope-sheathed package (brown seems to be the industry standard even if the material differs) arrived before breakfast it would be placed by whoever picked up the post in the centre of the kitchen island there to stay, unopened, until we returned home. Otherwise the first home would do the honours.

We had an agreement not to open them until we had eaten. The days at work following a morning delivery would pass in hazy expectation. The first time we had ordered we had rushed home and, on opening the package, had virtually fallen on and over each other in our rush to get upstairs and naked and the film in the player. We had agreed afterwards to try to follow our normal routinesand wait until bedtime. Which was about eight-thirty at the latest on porn nights. But we never got much sleep.

In the happy days of our relationship, Dave was - after a little training from me - a sensitive and accommodating lover. On porn nights he fucked me; hard and often. We had anal sex for the first time after watching Gang Bang Gumbo I. It hurt like hell, I remembered. After that I insisted on lubrication before letting him have access to my back passage. Dave got particularly turned on by gang bang films. I could take them or leave them.

A few years ago, it was the run up to his birthday and I was having a difficult time deciding what to get for him, I had suggested - after a fair amount of red wine - that I give him a gang bang as a present. I can still remember his horrified expression. He refused to discuss exactly what his problem with it was, but I surmised that gang bangs were something that drunk, bottle-dyed blondes did, not the woman he was married to. I let the subject drop, but with a little reluctance. It had taken a lot for me to broach it, and, I have to admit, the process of fantasising before raising it with him, was something of a turn on.

My only experience with more than one partner had come at college when two of my male friends and I had ended up in bed together. It was far from satisfactory. None of us really knew what to do and the boys were far too drunk to perform well. After going down on both of them I tossed them off until they came and then we had all fallen asleep. The next morning was excruciatingly embarrassing and I had got out of the house as quickly as I could. I was back at my student digs, heels in hand and minus my knickers, before any of my flat mates were up.

I had been unconsciously sipping my vodka whilst I silently reminisced. I was getting tipsy. I know because my knee was pressed against Steve's shoulder. I looked round at my guests, glad to see the football still had their full attention and none of them had noticed me staring at the cover. I flipped it over. The back told the tale of the encounters. I always liked reading them even though I knew they were fictitious. I smiled at the story outline of Samantha-Lou's adventure with her husband's bowling buddies after they topped the local league. Did football fans deserve similar rewards?

I jerked upright, as much to stop myself thinking lewd thoughts as anything else. Steve felt the change and tore his eyes away from the screen.

'Everything all right?'

He placed a hand on my knee. It was a touch of innocence and concern, but that did not stop the tingle travelling up my thigh. I felt my pussy twitch once more.

'Sure. I was wondering whether one of you gents would get me another drink...'

There was a general shuffling as all of them, except Jason, went in to waiter mode. I tapped Steve on the shoulder with the DVD case.

'And could you pass this to Jason. I think he must have left it behind the cushion here.'

Steve's face changed from expectancy to blazing, red-faced anger as he looked at the cover.

'Jason. What the fuck?'

No apology for bad language this time. He threw the case at him catching him squarely in the chest. Jason rubbed the spot and his face took on a look of injured innocence.

'It's Dave's. He said she'd be up for a gang bang. If we warmed her up a little.'

Now it was my turn to get angry.

'He said I'd fuck you all. If you got me pissed and showed me some porn. I'll kill the bastard.'

'No, no. Not you. He was talking about Tiffany.'

I was almost panting with rage. Steve and Luke were staring daggers at Jason. Piotr was quietly explaining the sudden shouting to Wot. The football was momentarily forgotten.

'Who the fuck is Tiffany.'

Jason is the most insensitive of men. But even he could tell he was in deep doo-doo. His reply came out as a whine. Everyone was staring at him with anger in their eyes. It looked to me as if Piotr was having to hold Wot back from attacking him.

'His new tart, I mean girlfriend.'

If anything that stoked my anger further.

'You mean to tell me he brought you lot round here - to my house. My house. - so you could all screw some slapper whilst I was upstairs watching TV?'

I stared at the five of them. I was on the edge of tears I was so angry. Steve broke the tension. He spoke in a soft, dull voice which could hardly be heard over the sound of the TV.

'Get your coat Jason. And get the fuck out.'

'But it's still raining and the match hasn't finished And I haven't got a coat.'

He looked imploringly round the room. There was no sympathy in any of the faces. Steve stood and took he one step necessary to stand over the cowering man. I could not see his face, but the expression alone was enough to shut Jason up. He slid out of the armchair and backed around it so he could leave the room without coming in to contact with any of the others. Steve followed him to the door whilst the rest of us remained silent. We all let out deep breaths when we heard the front door close.

Poland scored. The crowd and the commentators were going wild. No one in the room said anything. Luke, Pete and Wot were all looking at the floor, only stealing occasional glances at me when they thought I was not looking.

We all looked at Steve expectantly when he reentered the room. He stood, as he had in my bedroom earlier, with his back to it, head down, arms at his side, this time with his fists clenched.

'I've not come that close to punching someone since I was a teenager.'

He too blew out a deep breath and slowly raised his head to look at me.

'Susan. I'm really sorry about that. Believe me, I knew nothing about Dave's plans. He said nothing to me. Honest.'

The others made noises to convey their own ignorance of Jason and Dave's little scheme.

'I believe you...'

I was still close to tears. I was finding it difficult to get the words out.

'I just can't understand Dave. I know we are splitting up. But to have so little respect for me...'

My voice trailed off.

'Don't worry. We shall be having 'words' tomorrow. I'm going to tell him exactly what I think of him and his plans.'

Steve reached out an arm and touched my shoulder. That opened the flood gates. I pushed myself into his arms and collapsed into wracking sobs against his chest. He held me stiffly as I cried myself out. It only took a few minutes, but it was intense. When I pushed myself away from Steve his white shirt was stained with streaks of mascara, lipstick and, probably, snot and tears. I wiped my eyes realising I must look a complete mess.

'I think perhaps we should go too.'

Luke's flat northern vowels had an air of finality. I almost panicked. I did not want to be alone.

'No. Please stay. The game's not finished. Have some more beers, there's plenty left and I won't drink them. I'll wash my face and I'll be back in a tick.'

I fled the room to the downstairs washroom, still sobbing slightly. The mirror confirmed what I suspected. I looked like a clown who had been left out in the rain. There was a clap of thunder. I laughed at the thought of Jason walking home getting colder and wetter as he went. I set about repairing my damaged image with the contents of the emergency make up bag I kept under the sink.

When I emerged, the house was quieter. The sound had been turned down on the TV and I could hear the four men talking in low voices. They seemed to be plotting revenge against Dave on my behalf. There were low humourless laughs as they tried to outdo each other in threats to his clothes, car, desk. And reputation. I was touched. But what I needed more than anything was a drink.

In the kitchen I reached down four shot glasses and loaded them onto a tray along with the exotically labelled vodka, the bottle of emergency scotch Dave and I always kept at the back of a cupboard and a stiff vodka and coke for myself. They all tinkled as they clinked against each other as I proceeded to the front room and pushed open the door. All four men were standing and turned to me with looks of concerns. I forced a smile.

'Lighten up chaps. I've decided, we can't let those two ingrates ruin our evening. Who's winning?'

Football had been forgotten. They all turned to the screen and Steve took up the remote, clicked off the mute and them lowered the volume. The commentators were reduced from hysterical barking to a low murmur.

'Looks like we equalised. There's going to be extra time.'

'Ah well. Can't have everything.'

My weak joke broke the ice and they all started laughing. Luke took the tray and put it on the coffee table. Wot busied himself charging the shot glasses and handing them round.

'Here's to...?'

Steve started the toast, but then looked around for assistance.

'Jason getting pneumonia!'

I took a gulp of my drink and the lads downed their shots. We all spluttered and laughed at the same time. Luke opened the whisky and poured out another four measures.

'To Dave's engine blowing a gasket.'

I gulped and coughed, they just laughed after emptying their glasses. I felt for the seat behind me and squeezed between Steve and Pete. I was more than tipsy now. I had better watch what I drank, I told myself. The resolution lasted no more than a few seconds. Pete proposed the next vodka toast.

'To Dave and Jason catching herpes... Herpes is correct, no? From Tiffany.'

I drained my glass as the others emptied theirs and congratulated Pete on his fluency. I kissed him on the cheek. I was definitely feeling better. Scanning the room I could see we were all feeling the cathartic effects of the booze and the lifting of the tense atmosphere. Steve, Pete and I were slumped back on the sofa. Luke and Wot were leaning against the arms of their chairs. I caught them both sneaking upskirt peeks; my legs were only slightly apart as I leaned back, but the dress was so short it left nothing to the imagination. I wagged a finger at them, giggling.
'Naughty, naughty. No looking up my dress.'

They both looked devastated at being caught in the act. There was a sudden chill in the room and a definite feeling that the brittle atmosphere which had been broken by the toasts could return.

'Hey, hey. Don't worry. I don't mind. In fact I'm flattered. After all the shit I've taken in the past few months it's nice to be checked out by such good looking men.'

I struggled out of my seat and leaned over to kiss Wot's cheek. When I tottered around the coffee table to give Luke a similar peck my heels got caught in the carpet and I fell onto him, legs akimbo. His arms were around me, an automatic reflex to stop me tumbling to the floor, and, with a moment's hesitation, we kissed on the mouth again. The others cheered as we broke the clinch and both wriggled in the seat in an effort to get me upright again. I was tingling all over, and unless my bum deceived me I could feel the beginnings of a stiffy forming in Luke's trousers.

I laughed weakly as I stood holding my hands to my face to try and hide my blushes. I was desperately trying to think of something to change the subject.

'What's the score?'

The TV and the game had been forgotten in the rounds of shots and slightly erotic interplay.

'Well. It's one kiss on the cheek to Wot and Pete, a full fledged snog to Luke and me, nil.'

Steve twisted the sides of his mouth downwards as he finished speaking and there were mock cheers from the rest of the room. All eyes were on me, it was a definite moment of truth. The thrill I had received from kissing Luke was fading and a small sensible voice at the back of my mind told me it was time to cool things down a bit. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, a stronger urge from the rest of my body made me put my hands on the seated Steve's knees and lean down to kiss him on the mouth. His hands went to my hips to steady me and I could feel my dress riding up at the back and my tits trying to escape from the neckline of my dress.

The kiss was long and deep. I parted my lips and let Steve's tongue probe between them. If Luke made me tingle, Steve upped the voltage. I heard myself groan slightly as electricity shot down my body. I was definitely in danger of losing control. I broke the kiss and plumped down on the edge of the coffee table. I could feel my heart pounding and my breathing was fast and heavy. I looked round at the men. All eyes were on me.

'Wow. Steve you're a really good kisser. It's months since I've been kissed like that.'

I smiled at him. He crossed his legs.

'Thanks. Me too.'

Pete poured more shots and added a decent measure to my empty glass. He gestured for us all to raise our glasses.

'Poland may be winning the game. But we are definitely losing in the kissing match. Prost.'

He solemnly intoned. Luke and Steve grinned at each other as they put their glasses down and started a low chant of 'England, England'. I coughed as I emptied my drink. The absence of the cola meant my throat burned as the vodka went down. I waved my hand in front of my open mouth in an attempt to get some cool air down my throat to ease the discomfort.

'Whew that's strong.'

I cleared my throat and shook my head to try and clear the slight dizziness the last shot of vodka had brought on.

'I'm neutral in football. In fact, I don't give a toss who wins.'

I was giggling again.

'But I do think we can even up the kissing stakes, don't you boys?'

I looked at Piotr almost opposite me on he sofa he was eagerly expectant. Wot on the other hand looked bemused. His lack of English clearly meant he had only a vague idea what was going on. But he took his lead from Pete and started nodding.

I slowly raised myself and took a deep breath as I stood upright. I was definitely drunk, so slowly and deliberately leaned over toward Pete. He too raised his hands to steady me, but as I was slightly sideways to him one went to my right hip and the other to the outside of my left thigh. I could feel the heat of his hand through the sheerness of my stocking. He half-raised his head to mine and our lips met with passion, grinding against each other our tongues entwining. We broke the clinch simultaneously and I felt Pete's hand slip the short distance up my leg. He patted my bottom as he muttered his thanks. I straightened again and turned my head towards Wot. He was grinning shyly as he waited for his turn.

I manoeuvred between Pete's legs and the coffee table and lowered myself onto Wot's lap. I threw an arm behind his neck. We smiled at each other for a moment before leaning together. His lips were soft and warm and I felt myself melting inside as slowly the kiss deepened. I rested my free hand to his chest and felt him place the one which was not trapped between us on the outside of my thigh. I wriggled against him and was surprised at the hardness of his erection between us. It made me press more against him and the hand on my leg slipped between my thighs. I jumped with the thrill and, against my worse wishes, continued the upwards movement, levering myself against his shoulders to regain a standing position. I was laughing as I turned to the rest of the crew.

'That was nice. And you looked like you enjoyed watching.'

I looked from man to man. All four of them were touching themselves, or adjusting the tightness of their jeans and trousers around their groin. Whilst I was grinning, they all looked rather serious. That made me start laughing again. I was shocked by the deep, lecherous noise which came from my throat. I smoothed down my dress and adjusted my breasts within the top. My every move was watched by four sets of eyes. It was clearly down to me to decide what happened next. But I passed the buck.

'Well you're all even now, boys. What next? I did, after all, promise you favours if you dealt with that worm Jason.'

Everyone looked at Steve. It was, after all, he who had made the idiot leave and he had become something of a spokesman for the group. He coughed and looked down. He was going red and did not want the others to see. I waited expectantly, not sure exactly what would come next. I wanted more kissing and my body expected, no hoped, to be touched up, maybe stripped. I thought of Wot's hand gently grazing my pussy as we slipped together. I noticed I was panting slightly. Steve glanced up at me sheepishly and I smiled down at him, I hoped encouragingly. He leaned further forward and slowly lowered his hand down to the floor. When he straightened he was holding Gang Bang Gumbo V. He handed it to me.

I was lost for words. Momentarily. I noticed I was opening and closing my mouth trying to speak. The fantasies I'd had in the run up to Dave's birthday came flooding back. I think Steve had been in the first set, but looking around there were certainly enough well-toned bodies in the room to substitute for whoever the others were. I decided to play it cool.

'Have you got enough condoms?'

Was not what I meant to say. I blushed deep red. I could even feel heat coming up off my chest.

'I mean, I thought you might ask me to do a strip or something. Maybe a hand job?'

The all laughed in a friendly way. As if I'd said 'fuck' in front of the vicar. Luke spoke whilst fishing in his back pocket.

'A striptease would be wonderful. I'm sure I'm not the first man to tell you you have phenomenal legs and a great body.'

He tossed a packet of three onto the coffee table. Steve did the same. Piotr was pulling out his wallet and saying something in Polish to Wot. He paused, frowning.

'What is 'hand job'?'

We English all burst out laughing at the confused Poles. Luke and Steve looked at me perhaps trying to work out how to explain it politely. I slowly made the classic wanking motion with my wrist and hooped fingers. The two foreigners joined in the laughing. Wot did not need a translation. They both leaned forward and placed small packages covered in foreign script on the table alongside the rest of the johnnies. No translation was needed there either. I took a deep breath. It was the moment of truth.

'Help me up on the coffee table will you Pete, and put some music on Steve. There are CDs on the shelf next to the player. Hard rock.'

I bent over, my arse towards Piotr, and scooped up the packages and the DVD. I handed them to Luke.

'Put them somewhere safe, will you? We might need them later.'

I winked at him and then turned to Piotr who was standing beside me. He slipped a strong arm around my waist as I placed one foot on the table and my hand on his shoulder. The little-used, six-inch heels made if difficult to estimate the leverage I'd need to get up with a modicum of ease. I need not have worried. Piotr virtually lifted me unaided and clamped a firm hand on my bottom when I was up there. He released his grip and started pouring more drinks before clearing the bottles away. Somehow I had overlooked that part of the housekeeping. We all stood, me now towering above the sweaty-faced men, glasses in hands. Led Zeppelin suddenly boomed out of the speakers. Wot spoke.

'Cheers.'

He looked proud of his initiative and we all downed our tots.

'Just promise me one thing boys.'

I threw my glass to Luke and started to snake my hips in time to the music.

'Anything.'

Luke and Steve chorused. Piotr and Wot just nodded.

'You will be sure to tell Dave all about this when you see him, won't you?'

I turned my back on them as they clapped and whooped rather than laughed. I bent slightly to give them a view of my rounded bum and looked back over my shoulder to see the reaction. Whilst I couldn't see any tongues hanging out, there was definitely a strong expectation-vibe emanating from my audience. All four of them were leaning forward staring up at me. Steve was banging his palm against his knee in time with the music whilst Luke clapped softly to the same beat. Wot and Piotr looked like nodding dogs and they moved their heads from side to side.

I was lightheaded and excited. I could feel myself getting wet. I just let the music take hold of me for a moment as I swayed, trying to work out what to do next. I have never seen a stripper live, well not a female stripper anyway. I had seen some clumsy performances on film in the pornos Dave and I watched. I hoped mine would be more stimulating. I smoothed my hands down over my breasts and hips. Then raised them to my neck to flick back my hair like I had seen the porn stars do. My hair was not the bleached mains they all seemed to have, but it was long enough and there was a soft whistle from Luke and clapping from the Polish contingent as I did so. The track was slowing to an end.

'Well I guess I should take something off.'

I was verbalising a thought to myself more than anything, but Luke and Steve immediately started a chant of 'off, off'. I leaned forward cupping my hands over my breasts and shook my shoulders. I could feel my hard nipples beneath the fabric. The table seemed a lot smaller now it was a dance stage, it only took a single sideways step to repeat the move for Piotr and Wot. The latter was muttering something in Polish to himself, Piotr let out a long whistle. I stood tall and turned my back on my audience, snaked my hands behind my back and tugged down the zipper on the dress. It did not have far to go. The low-cut back was even deeper than the neckline. The zip was only a few inches long. I slipped the straps of the dress over my shoulders and let it fall. I stepped out of it hands aloft and turned as the track faded to nothing.

I was proud of my perfect timing. It deserved the round of applause I received. The next track was starting. It was one of their slower numbers and I started to move in what I hoped were sexy, sinuous waves. I noticed Steve stand up and move to the door. Surely he wasn't going to take a toilet break? But when he got there he started to fiddle with the three light switches, playing with them until there were only lights over me and the table. The rest of the room was in semi-darkness. It suddenly felt more intimate and I smiled down at him he retook his seat.

'Like what you see boys?'

I growled the words at them as I played with my nipples underneath the thin fabric of my bra. There were sounds of affirmation from the floor. I was getting so randy it was all I could do not to tear off the rest of my clothes and throw myself at them. There was definitely going to be a gang bang tonight. My pussy was demanding action. I stroked a finger over it as I moved letting it linger slightly and smiling as I touched already swelling lips. I pointed down to Piotr and beckoned him forward. He stood looking half-pleased, half-confused. I needed his shoulder to get down off the table. I kissed him full on the mouth when he had helped me. It was all I could do to stop after a few seconds.

I covered my mouth to hide a lascivious grin as I sat, in as ladylike manner as I could given the amount of alcohol I had drunk and my semi-nakedness. I needed to sit down to take off my stockings, but before I did so I slowly opened my legs before each of them. It gave me a chance to see what effect I was having. Their bulges were commendable hard. Luke had gone so far as to unzip himself and I could see the clear outline of a long, hard cock outlined by the thin fabric of his Calvin Kleins. I reached over and stroked a finger along its length before sucking my finger and turning back to the others.

I tried to keep eye contact with each of them as I unclipped the stocking at my right thigh. There was confusion all around me. Only Piotr held my gaze and I winked at him and licked my lips as I ran my hand down the outside of my leg to slip off my shoe. Steve was surreptitiously rubbing himself and seemed to be staring over my shoulder as I slowly rolled the thin nylon down my leg. I was sure he was drinking it all in, if only in peripheral vision, and I blew him a kiss and tossed him the stocking as I slipped the stiletto back on and swivelled my hips so I was facing Piotr and Wot.

Wot seemed transfixed. He was staring at me, goggle-eyed. I put my hands behind me and arched my back so that my tits were thrust upwards. I saw him gulp as I shook them gently and gave him a private smile of thanks. Piotr, when I turned to him, had his flies undone and one hand stuffed down the front of his shorts gripping his stout cock. His were not Calvin Kleins. I waved a finger at him, partly to cover my shock, and pleasure, at the sight of the effect my strip was having on him, and partly to remind myself that I was making the rules here. I repeated my actions with the second stocking, my eyes all the time locked on his. He was beginning to stroke himself beneath his thin pants.

I held a hand out to Wot for assistance to regain my stage. When I had got back up I crouched down, thighs apart, to kiss him. His hand went straight to my panties as our lips locked. I shuddered with pleasure, but stood up quickly. Wot might appear shy, but he was definitely not backwards in coming forward. I could not let him touch me too long or I would never finish my act, I told myself.

The second track ended as I stood up. The coincidence was more by accident than design this time. I knew the next song was a raunchy number about sex and I told myself I should try and get my bra and pants off before it finished. I might be a first-timer, I thought, but a stripper has to have some style. I looked down at my mesmerised audience. Their faces reminded me of the frozen stares they had had when watching the soccer earlier.Their visible hard-ons made me glow I was doing that to them.

'Wouldn't you rather be watching the footie?'

I was teasing them, but pleased to have an effect. They suddenly became animated. Luke and Steve were clapping and chanting along with the music and my sensuous moves. At first the other two just clapped, but once Steve had explained the chant to Piotr, and he had corrected Wot's pronunciation, they both joined in more loudly and enthusiastically than the others. I could see in the shadows that both Luke and Pete had given up all pretence of modesty. Both had their cocks out, their pants stretched down over their balls. They were stroking themselves between bouts of applause, I tried not to stare too hard. But I hadn't seen a naked penis for a long, long time. I wondered whether there is a collective noun for cocks. Homework for later, I mused.

I hooked my bra straps down off my shoulders and turned my back on them again as I fiddled with the catch at the back. Their rhythmic claps increased in tempo, out of synch with the music, I turned and tossed the flimsy garment up into the air. My hands went high and I wiggled my shoulders to make my tits bounce. I've always thought they were on the small side. In these days of silicon enhancements they definitely are. But the boys weren't complaining. Wot let out a whistle so piercing I was glad the neighbours were a couple of slightly deaf pensioners. Piotr shouted something in Polish and Steve just cried 'Jesus'.

'I had no idea you were religious, Steve. Want to take a break for prayers?'

They all laughed. Wot and Piotr clearly no longer cared what I was saying, they just joined in with the others. Luke cried 'more' and the call was taken up by the others. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and started to tease them whilst trying to work out how much of the track was left. When I pulled the gusset tight against it I could feel the wetness of my pussy. I was amazed the squeezing didn't cause a rivulet to run down my thigh. I turned again and eased the band down over the cleft of my buttocks before pulling it back up as their cheers increased. I turned with a coy grin. The chant of 'off, off' began again. Well, I thought, the customer is always right.

Though the track still had a bit of time to go, I slid the flimsy garment over my hips and wriggled it down to my ankles. With all the booze on board, and the excitement I was causing and feeling myself, I was surprised that with a quick bob I was able to whip the panties under the heels of my shoes and then stand without the boys getting a clear view of my pussy. I turned back to them clutching the small garment in front of my cleft and slowly moved across the front of the table. As the music climaxed I threw my hands high and released the knickers, laughing as they caught themselves on the light fitting. The four of them stood clapping and cheering as I jumped off the table and threw myself onto the sofa.

'Brilliant.'

'Thanks, Steve.'

'Fantastic.'

'Luke.'

'Most stimulating.'

'Very kind, Pete.'

'Please to tell me where you normally, how you say, perform. I like to see you again.'

'Wot. That's the most I've heard you say.'

I was slumped between Steve and Pete, they had each taken my hand and kissed it as I lay back in the sofa wiping sweat off my body with one of the towels I found there. Luke and Wot were standing above me. I smiled looking at the tops of their dicks sticking out of their pants and trousers, unbuttoned, barely hanging on to their hips.

'That was hot work. I could murder a glass of water.'

'Leave it to me.'

Luke hobbled away, having little success zipping his jeans, as he went towards the kitchen. I was breathing heavily after my exertions. I'd heard men say 'she was gagging for it' about women who, well, liked to shag. Now I knew what it meant. I was more randy than I had ever been in my life. I needed the stiff pricks around me out and on display ASAP. I took the glass Luke offered me and downed it in a couple of gulps. I reached out a hand, grabbed his belt and pulled him down towards me.

This time the kiss lasted an age. The pressure of his lips and the slick warmth of his tongue made me squirm and groan in less than a minute, and this time I did not try to disguise it. I released the belt and let my hand stray down over his cock. My slim hand had no problems slipping into the warm gap. I felt him gasp as I closed my hand around his shaft and gently squeezed. His mouth opened wider and I thrust my tongue deeper. I felt a hand on my breast and let out a muffled squeal as my nipple was pinched. A hand was stroking the inside of my thigh. I opened my legs further mentally urging it onwards.
I pulled my head away from Luke and gasped for air. He took the chance to stand and I saw him pulling down his trousers. They were Piotr's hands on my breasts; I reached out and pulled his head down and pushed a nipple up towards his face. He took the hint and was soon sucking hard and rolling the tip of my hardened nub between his teeth. Wot was standing, trousers round his ankles, stroking himself and staring glassy-eyed. I took my hand from Pete's head - he now needed no encouragement from me - grabbed Wot's dick and started to pull furiously. Steve slid a finger into my throbbing pussy at just the moment I took hold of Wot's member and I was melting inside as the frigged me furiously.

My ears were filled with liquid sounds: my pussy juices lubricating Steve's ministrations; Pete's slurping as he sucked my tits - I could feel his warm saliva trickling down onto my stomach; the sticky staccato as I jerked Wot's pre-cum covered penis. We were all breathing rhythmically, my yips and squeals punctuating their deeper noises.

'Ah. Hand job.'

Somehow Wot's muttered vocabulary check was heard by all of us. Everything stopped and we all burst into simultaneous laughter. It was one of those bouts of rolling hysteria which crescendoed and then subsided only to start again when we caught each others' expressions. I ended up rocking on the sofa holding my sides. They ached and I was laughing so hard I almost wet myself. It took about five minutes for some semblance of sanity to return. I struggled to my feet; I needed another glass of water. I looked around at the four of them slumped, in various stages of undress.

'I'm getting another drink. You lot get undressed, I'm not struggling with zips and buttons all night.'

I left the tap running after gulping down the first glass. The coolness rising from the sink was itself refreshing and the stillness gave me a chance to think about what I was doing. It was clearly not sensible, I acknowledged, but as my pussy, mouth and tits reminded me, how else is a girl going to get a shag at such short notice? I stopped half-way through filling another glass, opting instead for a large jug. It might be a long night.

When I reentered the front room the four of them were standing around completely naked. They were having a desultory conversation, but each eyeing the others' penises no doubt making mental comparisons. Men, I thought, but as I stood at the door, I joined in. The four were more or less equal in the length stakes - maybe six inches or so. I made a mental note that Wot and Pete's seemed thicker than their English friends'. Perhaps it was something genetic. I got no further. They noticed me as I put the jug and glass down on the edge of the hearth well away, I hoped, from the action. The smiles were broader and their dicks perceptively harder. I edged between Steve and Wot and they pushed around me hands already exploring.

'Time for your next English lesson, Wot. Repeat after me: 'blow job'.'

I dropped to my knees and reached for him. I gave a few preparatory strokes before slipping my lips around the scarlet, bulbous end. It was indeed thick, much more so than Dave's the only cock I had sucked in the past, well years I guessed. I widened my mouth and slowly pushed my head down the shaft. I appreciated his groan of satisfaction and went further than I meant to. I pulled back choking and gasping, the sound of the men's laughter in my ears. I set to work more systematically, spitting on the rock hard shaft and licking the underside down to the balls before taking in my mouth again.

One of the others grabbed my hair. The pain was sharp but not unpleasurable as he was pushing me forwards onto Wot's erection and then easing me back. I was gasping with each tug on my scalp.

My experience of watching the Gang Bang Gumbo series led me through the next half hour. In every single scene I had watched the girl, circled by dicks, sucks each one in turn. The relative desperation of her partners determined the order. I stretched out both hands and found them guided to hard-ons. I had my eyes closed at this point, but guessed from the shapes that one was Pete's and the other either Luke's or Steve's. It was Steve's; I could tell from the noises he made when I started yanking at him.

I sucked dicks for England that night. I have to say, the four of them were most cooperative. I barely had to move as they circled me. Each time I leaned back from furious sucking another dick awaited my ministrations. Nearly always hands behind me would hold my head, or yank my hair, to maintain a steady rhythm. The pain was exquisite and my whole body felt shocks. I could feel pricks being slapped against my cheeks as they waited.

Hands groped over my breasts, sometimes stroking, sometimes squeezing. I had worked out that it was Luke who enjoyed my pain the most. It was him who invariably pinched my nipples, hard. When I had him in my mouth I would retaliate by running my teeth along him, always threatening, but never carrying out the threat, to bite. I could hear all of them laughing, sighing and groaning as I worked. The only words were Wot's.

'Hand job; blow job. Hand job; blow job.'

He intoned as his turns came around. I snorted when I first heard him, as we went on it almost became the metronome of our game.

I think the boys would have kept me on my knees all night. There was no let up in the enthusiasm with which they fucked my face. I am naturally right-handed, but after initially getting assistance from whoever I was wanking with my left, I soon developed an ambidextrous technique. But give a girl a break, this was my first gang bang after all, I began to feel little aches and cramps in my neck and back. To be honest my jaw and calves were also calling for a time-out and my scalp was definitely starting to get sore. I let go of whoever's cocks I was manipulating, pulled back my head and breathed deep.

'I need a change of position, lads. Help me up.'

I had not expected, but was gratified to receive, a standing ovation as I rose. Four pairs of hands clapped and four stiff penises stood proudly to attention. I found myself blushing.

'I think that was one of the best blow jobs I've ever had.'

'Me too.'

'Blow job good. Hand job too.'

'You were magnificent. These delicate hands have magic in them.'

The last speaker was, of course, Pete and he kissed the back of my hand as he assisted me to the sofa. I must visit Poland some day, I told myself, as I smiled my gratitude for the compliment. I waved a hand towards the water and was instantly serviced by Wot. I took down half a glass and coughed to clear the taste of the pre-cum. I handed him back the glass after draining it. I looked up at my partners which they took as an indication that I was ready to start proceedings again.

'I can take a hint.'

Steve fell to his knees between my legs and stretched them further apart to give himself access to my pussy. I had been unconsciously stroking myself as I drank. As he kissed my inner thighs, alternating with small darts of his tongue, and moved to the ridges on each side of my Mons, the rest of them rearranged themselves to take advantage of my mouth and hands. Pete and Wot were on either side of me; Pete standing, Wot kneeling on the sofa. Luke seemed to have disappeared somewhere. I discovered where at the same moment Steve's mouth finally covered my vagina.

I felt the waves of expectation which had been rising in me move to bursting point as his warm lips covered me and his tongue begin to rhythmically lap at my slit. At the same time my head was jerked back, I shook it to try and ease the pain of Luke's firm grip. He was behind me and stretching my head over the low back of the sofa. His hard dick was thrust, unceremoniously, into my mouth and he began pounding into me. I could feel his balls slapping my forehead as he went deeper into my throat with each thrust. I was almost choking.

At the same time waves of pleasure were coming up from my groin. Steve had found my clitoris and had it between his lips. There were at least two fingers inside me and he thrust them expertly towards my G-spot. I was losing control. I jerked my pelvis against Steve and was stretching my upper body to try and ease the pain Luke was causing me as he pulled back on my hair to give himself deeper access. I could feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat with every stroke.

I was only vaguely aware of Pete and Wot's needs. Wot was holding my left hand in both of his as I limply held him. He was virtually masturbating himself. I was frantically wanking Pete between bouts of pain and pleasure. The rest of the time he got more limp twitches than regular strokes.

Luke was the first to come. I had felt two orgasms wrack my body and was shaking all over by the time I felt Luke's cock harden further in my mouth. He now had both hands in my hair and I felt my head pulled even further back. A slow moan escaped his lips and he suddenly stopped thrusting into me. The first spurt of his hot cum almost drowned me and I swallowed quickly and hungrily. I could hear myself coughing and gurgling as two further jolts added to the sticky mass in my mouth. It started to trickle over my lips and down my cheeks. Luke withdrew smearing the last of his emissions on my nose, forehead and hair. I heard him panting behind me.

I pulled my hand away from Pete's dick and smeared Luke's cum as I wiped it's back over my mouth. I was panting and moaning as Steve's tongue continued to probe my pussy and manipulate my clit. I waved a weak wrist towards the hearth. I needed more water. Wot released my hand and his prick to do the honours. I used my free hand to push back Steve's head, smiling down at him. I looked around at my lovers. Pete and Wot were sweating slightly and looked somehow serious. Steve was grinning at me from between my legs his face smeared with his saliva and my juices. I could feel the same mixture trickling from down between the cheeks of my arse. I wriggled against the towel covered cushion. Water finished, I looked up again.

'What does a girl have to do to get fucked around here?'

That broke the tension and we all broke out laughing. Wot and Pete both leaned over to kiss me. Neither seemed to mind Luke's cum which still flavoured my mouth. It was Steve who busied himself sliding a condom over himself. I have always found the sight of a condom-covered dick somewhat comical with the tiny bulb flapping at the end, but if I smiled it was to myself. I was almost hypnotised as he took two steps towards me, his cock and its little hat bobbing up and down. He knelt and pulled me further down towards him. And as he stroked himself against my crack he made me tremble with expectation. I reached down and slipped my hands below my knees to open myself further to him.

I groaned as I felt him slip into me and pushed myself forward to receive his full length. I felt myself shudder as my clit pushed against his pubic bone and I ground against him for a moment. Steve pulled back gently before thrusting in again. I panted at each contact. After the first few penetrations he steadily increased his pace. His balls were soon slapping furiously against my bum and I almost screamed as another orgasm ran through me. I looked up at him, teeth gritted and eyes closed. After a minute or two of energetic pounding Steve slowed and opened his eyes to look at me. I smiled.

Our eye contact was broken as Pete ran his hands behind my head and turned me towards him to take his cock in my mouth. His touch, unlike Luke's, was gentle but none the less insistent and soon he had a hand over each of my ears as he pumped my mouth. He seldom touched the back of my throat, but the larger girth of his member meant my mouth was almost full and when he did I choked and retched. Steve had slipped my legs over his shoulders and now, hands free, I slipped one down between us to massage my aching clit and groped around for a cock to wank with the other.

My own work, and Steve's steady thrusting was stoking the warmth between my legs and I could feel it rising. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the pleasure flowing through me. My moans were echoed by Steve's, he had been fairly silent throughout our coupling, so I knew he too was close to climax. But it was Pete who was first. Like with Luke, I felt him harden and slow between my lips, his thrusts now reaching the back of my throat each time. I wondered if the animalistic noises - grunts, choking and cries - which filled my ears were mine alone, or a group chorus.

Pete pulled out of me completely and I felt his spunk splatter against my face. Some went in my mouth, but most hit my eyes and chin. The second and third salvos landed between my tits. At the same time Steve, whose thrusting had become frantic shouted the word 'fuck' and collapsed against me. My pussy walls had been holding him firmly and I felt his spasms; they seemed to go on for ever. My own orgasm had burst somewhere between the two boys I screamed as the pleasure centres in my brain exploded, overloaded with the messages my body had been giving them. The three of us lay panting in a heap.

It was Pete who recovered first he handed me a towel. I'm a swallow not spit girl and had managed to scoop most of his cum off my face and into my mouth. I scooped the slowly congealing cream off my chest and stomach. Steve gently extracted himself from me deftly holding the end of the condom in place. Having slipped it off and knotted it I gave him the towel to complete the cleaning up process. I kissed each of them in turn and looked around to see what the others had been up to.

I did not have to look far. Wot was at the other end of the sofa. He was holding and stroking his penis. He had obviously enjoyed the show; it stood up like flagpole. He handed me a glass of water which I gulped eagerly whilst he reached over and stroke my breast. Luke was splayed in an armchair opposite. He had clearly been having a good time too. He was three-quarters hard and had a broad grin as he stared at me open-faced. After putting the glass down I widened my legs, mirroring his pose and, with my eyes on his, leaned sideways and whispered to Wot.

'Condom.'

I didn't realise my Polish was so good. Wot was out of his seat and ripping and tearing at the small foil packet before I straightened up. I beckoned him to sit, took out the prophylactic and started to roll it over his member. The grin on his face broadened as I stroked the rubber smooth over his cock and finished the exercise by cupping his balls. I stood up with a backwards glance at Luke and then lowered myself down onto the Pole's pole. I was the only one who laughed at my silent pun.

I felt my pussy walls stretch to receive him and I groaned as I finally settled on him. We kissed and I started easing myself up and down. Wot clamped his mouth to one of my tits as I bounced and I felt him grip my arse cheeks with both hands. When I lay back a little to increase the pressure on my throbbing clit I saw Steve and Pete were both behind the sofa grinning down at me. They both had their cocks in their hands. They were still limp but they were both working to correct that. I tried to smile at them, but I think my expression was more anguished as I tried to cope with the fresh pleasures coming from my groin. A sharp slap on my arse jolted me upwards. I gasped and tried to incorporate the stinging pain with the other sensations.

I managed to look round and caught Luke's look of concentration as he slapped me again. I could feel the other cheek stinging, but my cry was more of pleasure than of pain. Wot started thrusting upwards. I tried to take some of my weight on my knees, but Luke's blows, now coming fast and hard, meant I kept falling against him. I was impressed with the strength of his thighs as he bounced me around. Steve and Piotr were both getting hard as they watched. I saw Steve's tongue moisten his lips as he reached over to squeeze my nipple. When my mouth opened in reaction, he pushed his cock in.

I tried to get some coordination into the blow job, but with Wot bouncing me up and down with increased vigour and Luke's slaps pushing me forward, I was not in control. But Steve seemed to have no complaints. I could hear his breathing quicken and he grabbed my head to steady the orifice from which he was deriving his pleasure. My pussy walls were gripping Wot, my arse was tingling and hot, saliva was dripping from my mouth as Steve filled me. I tried to grip him with my lips but had to keep opening my mouth to let out the cries of pleasure.

Suddenly Wot and Luke both stopped their ministrations. I don't know whether they were coordinating; I could not see what signals Luke may have been giving behind me. I knew Wot hadn't come. By this time my pussy was so sensitive I could almost feel the veins throbbing in his cock. Steve slammed against the back of my throat as he too was thrown by the emergency braking. I started to choke and he quickly pulled out. What a gentleman, I thought, as I collapsed against Wot's chest, gasping for air.

Steve stroked his dick against my cheek as I gulped deep breaths. I could see Piotr still wanking himself and Luke was gently stroking my butt cheeks; I began to relax. As I slowly started to grind into Wot to get the action going again, I felt Luke's hand position change and a strong finger start probing deeper between my cheeks. I realised what he was doing at the point his finger slipped inside me. My anal flower offered no resistance slick as it was from the juices torrenting from my pussy for the past - well, I had no idea how long we had been at it. Zeppelin were well finished and that had been my only measure of time.

I felt my arse spasm and I tried to lay still. I was gripping Luke's finger hard, I could sense his palm against my buttock and had the sensation of movement inside me as he twitched his upper knuckles. I let out a deep growl as Wot started pushing himself against me. Part of me knew this had been coming. After all there was not a single scene in Gang Bang Gumbo I-IV when double penetration had not taken place. I had no reason to believe Samantha-Lou and her pals were any different. But any reluctance my brain may have had about this new experience was overruled by my body's craving to deepen this new sensation.

I was soon bucking and writhing again as Wot's prick and Luke's fingers - his initial probe was soon joined by another, possibly three - ploughed into me. I lost control and was almost screaming with every thrust. At the point where I was certain I was about to pass out both men stopped again and I felt Luke free his fingers. I was again sprawled over Wot, this time his gasping breaths matched my own. I was soothed by Piotr and Steve's hands stroking my back and arse. I smiled weakly at them and kissed Wot savagely once my lungs gained enough control to allow breathing through the nose. They had moved to either side of Wot and I in the melee. I managed to summon enough energy to twist my head to check what Luke was up to. I found him behind me slowly rolling a condom over his cock. I knew what was coming next and I buried my head in Wot's shoulder.

We were both as limp as rag dolls, with the exception of his pole which seemed bigger and harder inside me that when we started. My pussy twitched involuntarily to hold him firm and I heard soft whispering in my ear. I decided his words were endearments, he was speaking in Polish, but they could as easily have been 'prepare to get your arsehole split you slut-whore' for all I knew. I just wondered how much this was going to hurt. The fingers had been OK after the first shock, I tried to remember how big Luke had been when I was blowing him.

So distracted was I, I didn't hear clearly what he said when he spoke. But when Piotr was translating for Wot and he grabbed me to pull my arse cheeks apart, I could make a good guess. Before I could make any protest, or, should I say, decide whether I wanted to make any protest, I could feel the hard, swollen tip of Luke's erection pressing against my rear entrance. I sighed with relief as he slipped in, the stickiness, the fingers and Wot's stretching grip had done their job. I pushed back against him and felt him slide deeper and deeper. Decision made.
If I had been trying to kid myself that what had come before was some kind of making love, now it was just fucking. I just wanted more and I pushed and squirmed against the two men penetrating me to get it. Did I say two? Make that three. At some point Steve got up on the sofa. He had tight hold of my hair in his fists and was fucking my face so hard there was a danger I might lose teeth. God knows what had happened to Piotr. Luke's balls slapping my bottom provided some kind of rhythm; Wot see-sawed between frantic bouts of shafting me and almost complete collapse. It was during one of those that Luke exploded within me. With Wot inert I was able to concentrate on pushing against him as he fucked me. I felt the familiar stiffening as we approached warp speed and then the spasmodic jerks along his length as he spurted into the condom.

I felt him slide out of me and heard him collapse onto the floor uttering fragmented obscenities as he did so. I could feel some cramping in my butt as it adjusted and, I suppose, tried to relax muscles not accustomed to such usage. But if I thought it was going to get some rest, I was wrong. As Wot started fucking me again I felt another sheathed bell end pressing against me. Piotr had just been waiting his turn. He did not need to be delicate, Luke had ploughed the furrow and he just pushed straight into me with a force which momentarily took my breath away.

I don't know whether they practice this sort of thing in Poland, but the two of them were definitely coordinated. Wot would lie still for a few moments whilst Pete rammed into me like a piston. Then Wot would take over bouncing into my pussy using the strength of his thighs. If one of them slipped out of me I got a few moments respite while they readjusted their positions. Then I would feel the pounding of blood in my ears and feel the pain in my lungs as I fought to steady my breathing.The rest of the time I was somewhere else. I knew the noises I was hearing - a mixture of pleasure and pain - were mine. I had no control over them.

I don't know whether they could feel each other's cocks, but to me it felt at times as if they were pressed together as they slid in and out. My clit felt red hot and orgasms were coming so frequently I stopped savouring anticipation and just let them flow through me. It could have gone on for five minutes or five hours. I had lost all sense of time and place. And I only slowly became aware that they were finished with me. First Wot came, I heard him shout something and became aware he was no longer thrusting in to me. I felt his arms circle my back and have vague memories of him kissing me on the cheek.

Piotr kept going for a few more minutes. His thrust became faster and he too started muttering. I felt an instant relief as he desperately extracted himself from my arse and then felt powerful spurts of jism hit my back. He fell onto the sofa beside me and reached out a weak arm to rest his hand on my shoulder. The only sound in the room was coming from Steve. He was still wanking himself, trying to race towards his own ejaculation. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes, unable to do any more to encourage him, but he missed. I felt a cooling trickle of cum rolling down from my shoulder and along my arm. I could have sworn I heard him say '2-0' as he came.

I slowly felt myself returning to the room. My breathing steadied and I listened to the quiet noises the four men were making as they recovered. I felt Wot lift me from him and deposit me gently on the sofa; I was still incapable of independent movement. When I started to feel cold from the pools of sweat drying on my body and began groping around for a towel, it was Steve who passed one to me. I tried to rub it against myself, but keep missing.

'Well that was unexpected.'

I don't know why I said it. It was an observation rather than a conversation-starter. But it broke the flood gate. We all started laughing at once. I remember thinking how differently the four of them sounded. I became embarrassed at the sound of my own high-pitched giggles. And that thought started another bout of deeper, open-mouthed laughter from me. There I was, covered in cum with four naked men who had just fucked me in every available hole and I was concerned about the sound of my giggles.

The men started the good-natured joshing which seems to pass for conversation when male friends get together.

'You should have seen your face when you came.' Luke to Steve.

'Well at least I can get off without spanking the poor girl.' Steve's response.

Piotr and Wot were having what sounded like a similar bout of sparring in their own language.

'You're a star, Sue. I've never had such a good time.'

I was glad to be included as one of the boys and chipped in with a few observations of my own. We were all laughing again, and it was at that point I became aware of an overwhelming pressure in my bladder. My pussy, bum-hole, mouth and neck muscles were so used it had been the feelings from them that I had concentrated on. But now, I needed the toilet and fast. All the water I had been taking on was making itself felt.

'Loo.'

I struggled to rise but fell back like a new-born foal testing its legs for the first time. Luke stood up to help me. I hobbled rather than walked to the door as he held me upright with a strong arm through mine. I decided that with his help I could make the stairs, I was thinking that maybe a shower would be sensible, and steered our stagger away from the downstairs toilet.

'Thanks for this, Luke. I definitely would have had to crawl on my own. You're a real gent.'

He laughed.

'I'm not, actually. I really like watching women piss and you strike me as the kind of girl who's up for anything.'

If I had thought nothing could shock me after what we had just been through together I was wrong. I was speechless. I had heard of water sports and golden showers, of course, but never in a million years had I thought I would meet someone who was in to it. And in my own home; on a weeknight; with work tomorrow.

'You're a bit of a perv, aren't you? Don't think I didn't notice it was you beating my tush. And that you were the first one up my bum.'

If I was going to be one of the boys I would have to give a good as I got. Luke was certainly speaking in a friendly manner.

'Yes, I suppose I am. In fact I'm glad we've had a chance to chat. I'm new down here and I don't know many people. I'd really like it if we could get together for a proper spanking session sometime. None of the women I've met so far have really been into it. What d'ya think?'

'Well you're nothing if not direct. I'll have to think about it.'

I was surprised at my own matter-of-factness. There was something about Luke's flat Yorkshire vowels which made his proposition sound as normal as an invitation to coffee. I sat down on the loo and waited for relief to come. It did not. I looked up at him as he leaned nonchalantly against the sink staring down at me.

'I'm not sure I can do this with you watching.'

He started whistling softly between his teeth and turned on the cold tap. As the water flowed into the sink, my own floodgates opened. I closed my eyes enjoying the pleasure of the moment. I opened them again pretty swiftly when I felt Luke forcing my legs apart as he pushed his hand into the stream. I watched, either shocked or fascinated, still not sure which, as he cupped his palm under me and, when it was full, withdrew and gulped at my pee.

'That's different.'

Was all I managed to say as he stood up again and watched me finish. He was licking his fingers clean. I wiped myself and took some fresh paper to dry my thighs where he had dripped.

'Mind if I have a shower?'

I was pulling on my second-best bathrobe. It was getting nippy.

'No worries. I'll send one of the others up with a towel.'

In the front room, the other three became suddenly self-conscious as I was semi-dressed and they were naked. I told Piotr to take Luke one of the towels which, I was pleased to see, had been folded on the arm of the sofa. He took one for himself too after asking, in his over-perfect English if he could shower too. I looked around for something to do as Steve came in.

'The beer cans are all bagged and binned. I've put the kettle on. I hope that's OK.'

I noticed my clothes had been folded into a neat pile on the opposite arm to the towels.

'You can come and do my cleaning every week, if you like.'

I meant it as a light-hearted comment and was concerned that it seemed to make Steve redden. He coughed and looked down before speaking.

'I was wondering... That is to say... Well... Its just that...'

'You've got housemaid's knee?'

I asked, I hoped, helpfully. He laughed and shook his head.

'No. I wanted to ask if you would go out with me.'

It was my turn to cough and stutter. Somehow Steve's polite, and perfectly normal, request was more embarrassing that Luke's invitation to have my bottom smacked at my convenience. I liked Steve, always had, but I was not going to date him. Too complicated, what with his relationship with Dave and all.

'That's really sweet of you, Steve, but I don't think it would work. I've only just got rid of Dave. I don't think I'm ready to start seeing someone else. Tell you what though. Write your number on the kitchen pad. I think I'm going to be needing a booty call pretty soon.'

We smiled at each other and he went back to the kitchen to look for a pen. I called out to him to take the bin bag for the towels up with him if he was going to shower. Wot got up silently and I heard them both ascend the stairs. The boiler would be working overtime. I made coffee while I waited for them to return. They trickled in one at a time and took their places around the kitchen table.

We took our drinks in amiable silence, each of us sharing smiles when our eyes caught one another. I was beginning to feel tired and was not unhappy when Steve announced it was time for them to leave and called a taxi for them. The valedictions were un-ironic.

'Thank you for a wonderful evening. I hope we may be permitted to visit you again.'

Said Piotr, before he was given a short speech by Wot to translate.

'He repeats my thanks and gratitude and asks that if you do perform a striptease dance at some public venue to which we could be admitted that you telephone and inform us. We have left our numbers below Steve's on your notebook.'

I kissed them both and asked Pete to tell Wot that whilst it was unlikely that I would be changing career any time soon, if I did he would be the first to know. Steve restricted himself to a kiss on the cheek and the whispered hope that I would contact him soon. The taxi was honking outside as I escorted them to the door. Luke hugged me as he left and gave me a playful slap on the bum.

'Top bottom.'

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Jan 8, 2018 in anal

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