Freebie Ch. 01

"Oh fucking yes!"

Again he thrust, and again he tugged at my hair.

"Fucking hell yes!"

His first violent tug had pulled me off Graham's cock, and now in front of me, he was wanking his cum shots directly into my face and hair. But did any of this worry me? No fucking way! For as my pussy had sensed Peter's first load of cum, it had exploded with a kind of convulsion. It was alternately dilating and contracting. With each dilation it was spraying out love juices. From what I can remember Peter gave a good ten or more plunges depositing his cum, before he slipped from my pussy. But as they both finished there relief and lowered me back to the bed on my side; I carried on writhing and pumping cum (mine and some of Peter's) for at least a minute after they'd both finished. (You might be wondering; if I was so far out of my head, how on earth could I know or remember so much about who did what, and where and when. Well, I've written my feelings and the parts I could remember; but how I came to know the rest, you will find out soon.)

When I returned to normality, I could hear the shower running, and I was lying in the most disgusting mess on my bed. Neither of them were in my room, but then I heard their voices coming from the bathroom, where I supposed they must both be taking a shower. I got to my feet dragging the sheet from the bed with me. But the sheet I'd been lying on was so disgusting, I bundled it into a heap and dropped it on the floor. Then using the sheet from the mattress, I wrapped it around myself and made my way to the door where I again slipped the bolt into place, locking them out. I returned to the bed and began to wipe myself down as best I could using the sheet.

After about five or ten minutes, I heard the shower stop, and a few minutes later I heard their voices out on the landing, as they made their way to my door. The handle on the door rattled as they attempted to open the door.

"Mary. Are you alright? Have you locked the door?"

"Yes. I'm not coming out until you've gone."

"But our clothes are in there."

I hadn't thought about that.

"Well go down the stairs, and call back up. When I know you're out of reach of the door I'll throw them down to you."

"You're being silly. Come on open the door."

"No. I don't trust you."

"Don't be silly. We've had what we wanted; all we want now is our clothes."

"Well go to the bottom of the stairs, and then I'll throw them to you."

I then heard Graham say to Peter,

"Come on mate, it sounds like she's gone all shy again."

Then he said in a louder voice,

"We're going down now."

A few seconds later the voice sounded like it was coming from downstairs,

"Ok. We're in the hall. You can throw them down."

I slowly slid the bolt back, and opened the door, a quick peek told me they weren't on the landing, so I dashed to the banister rail and threw their clothes down the stairs, and then returned to my room locking the door. I waited until I could hear their voices coming from the room below me, and then I made my way to the bathroom and had a soothing shower. But the warm water didn't just clean and refresh me, as the warmth engulfed my naked body; from deep inside my tummy I felt a glow. This was unlike anything I'd ever known, and as I stood there my body began to tremble. The feeling built, until I had another orgasm. This was not as overwhelming as the gusher I'd just experienced, but it was far and away stronger than any other so called orgasm I'd had previously, and it did result in me sinking to my knees in the shower.

I'd intended to shower without wetting my hair, but as it was, I now looked like a bedraggled rat as I limply stepped from the shower. After a quick attempt at removing the bulk of the water from my hair, I wrapped my head with a towel. Slipped on a towel robe and after a quick dry down I slowly made my way downstairs. When I got to the living room door I called in,

"I'm coming in, but if either of you attempt to get anywhere near me I'll scream the house down."

"Stop acting like a drama queen. Just get your pretty little snatch in here, and take a look at this."

As I walked gingerly into the room they were both on the sofa looking at a porn video on the TV.

"I don't think you two will be so cocky if I phone the police?"

Graham froze the screen and looked at me,

"Police? Why on earth would you do that?"

"Rape! Don't think you can do something like that and get away with it. What my Gerry has done doesn't even come close to your crime."

He gave a stifled laugh,

"Ha Ha."

"What ever makes you think we'd want to rape you?"

"Think! I don't need to think. You pair of bastards have just done it."

"Oh you mean your little fucking session up stairs. But that wasn't rape. That was what we were watching when you came in. I videoed it, it makes good viewing. In fact,"

And at this point he snatched out and grabbed a handful of the towel robe I was wearing, and as he pulled, the loosely tied belt slipped off, allowing the rope to pull wide open.

"It's given me an appetite for a piece of that snatch on my dick."

I leapt sideways to get out of his reach, and only succeeded in ripping the robe exposing myself completely.

"You bastard! Get off me!"

Peter then spoke, in a somewhat calmer voice than Graham's,

"Come on Graham. Enough is enough. Let her cover herself up."

Graham loosed his hold, and I attempted to wrap the torn towelling as best I could to cover myself. Peter got to his feet and began to walk towards me. I backed away, and I guess the look on my face told him I wasn't happy being backed into the corner of the room. He held his hands up open palmed,

"Calm down. I'm not going to touch you. Tell you what, how about you sit there and I'll go and make us all a nice cup of tea."

By now I was almost in tears, and I half spoke and half sobbed,

"Tea! You don't think making me a cup of tea will get you out of this. You're the one who'll go down for rape!"

"I can tell you're fraught, but maybe when you have time to relax you might see things differently. I'll make that cup of tea anyway. Do you want one Graham?"

"I guess so if you're doing the honours."

He left the room, and Graham said,

"I'll start this from the beginning; Peter has already seen the start, so he won't be missing anything."

"No need to on my account. I don't want to watch your dirty movies."

"I think you should. If you have some silly idea about being raped, I think maybe you should see the real evidence. This is video footage as it happened."

The video began at the point where I'd just resigned myself to the prospect of having to wank both of them. All the conversation and my protesting up to that point hadn't been recorded. So the first thing I see is Graham and Peter stood with their backs to the camera and me in front of them. To be more accurate, it could have been any two men stood there; but I knew it was them. I could then be seen to be doing something to Graham, and as his pants began to drop, it was obvious; I'd been loosening his belt, and was then removing his trousers and pants. At the same time both of them could be seen removing their shirts and ties. In short, it was a recording of the episode I've just related, taken from some point behind where they had been standing; my dressing table would be my guess. (So now you know how I managed to fill in; who did what, and where and when; while I was so far out of my head.)

As I sat there watching, without diverting his gaze from the screen, Graham said,

"The camera work isn't what you'd call professional, but being as I only had seconds to plonk it down on your dresser, I guess I couldn't expect much better. But even without the close-ups, and the fact we're not always fully in frame, the audio seems to have captured every sigh and whisper. And so far, I haven't heard you say no, or cry out for help."

Then he turned his head and asked sarcastically,

"Are you sure it was in this session that you got raped?"

Before I could answer, Peter arrived with a tray with our cups of tea. He passed one to me,

"Do you take sugar? Or are you sweet enough already?"

I guess the five or so minutes he'd been out of the room had given me time to reflect, and the hostility I had been feeling had subsided slightly. Instead of giving him a curt reply, I managed a slight smile as I replied,

"No thank you."

He then gave Graham a cup, and sat himself back down next to him.

Graham again tried to goad me,

"I was just asking her if this was the fucking session where she thinks she got raped."

I could see this kind of remark didn't sit easy with Peter, and he gave Graham a black look as he said,

"Ok Graham, I'm sure she isn't going to pursue that route. There's no point in rubbing it in."

I was sipping on my tea, and by now on the screen, we'd arrived at the point where Graham pulled his tongue from my mouth, and manoeuvred himself into position in front of me. As he brought his cock up to my mouth, I could hardly believe my eyes. I could be seen lifting my head, and opening my mouth, not just allowing him access, but you could almost say, encouraging him.

It was obvious to me, and would be to anyone who watched this video, that there was no way I could claim he abused me forcefully. I sat there completely numb, as Peter could be seen to lift his head from my crotch, and he positioned himself to give me a doggy fucking. Yes his hands were on my waist, but I didn't fight or attempt to struggle. And yes Graham was pulling at my breasts, but again, this wasn't, or didn't look like an attempt to restrain me. So as Peter was seen to push himself up towards my bottom, and he grabbed a handful of my hair, it looked like I was a willing participant.

When it got to the end, and I saw myself writhing around long after both of them had dismounted, I turned bright red, and unknowingly lifted my hands to cover my face. I sat their mentally squirming in my seat so ashamed of my disgusting performance. But as soon as Graham turned the video off, Peter said,

"Well my dear, I can honestly say, I've never had a girl fuck as good as that before. You have a real talent."

I didn't reply, and indeed, I think I actually blushed even redder. But Graham again brought up my accusation of rape,

"Come-on then Mary. Are you still considering reporting us to the police?"

I didn't speak, but with my head hung low, I just shook it from side to side.

It was as I sat there sulking, knowing I had no bargaining point to free myself from this state of affairs I'd been drawn into, that I suddenly realised something. I lifted my head, and said to Graham,

"So I won't have to do any of those underwear parties now."

He gave me a curious look, and then turned to look at Peter. As if to ask if Peter knew what I was talking about. Peter just shrugged his shoulders, and Graham turned back to look at me and asked,

"And what makes you think you've got out of paying me back for your stupid husband?"

"You gave me the option earlier, if I didn't want to do the parties, I could..."

I paused, and then as I felt I was now in a position to be bold, I continued,

"You said if I didn't want to do the parties, I could fuck you both. Well if that wasn't rape, then I've done what you asked. So now Gerry's debt is paid in full."

Peter looked at Graham and said,

"She has a point."

Graham didn't look pleased at Peter siding with me, but after a few seconds silence he came back with,

"Ok little miss clever clogs. But when I watched that video, I only saw one of us fucking you. If you want to take up that offer, then I want to see you on your hands and knees on the floor now, robe off, and ready to fuck. And then once I've spunked up inside your snatch; then I'll call it debt paid."

I knew he'd again got the better of me. I'll bet as you read this you're thinking, 'you've already fucked one, what does one more matter'? But I'd never have let Peter go that far knowingly. And now 'in cold blood' so to speak, there was no way I could get down and let him take me. But a kind of determination, or if you will, pig headedness came over me.

"I don't care what you say or do. I'm not modelling that stuff, and neither of you are going to get anywhere near me again."

Graham looked more than a little annoyed, and he sprang to his feet and stomped across the room towards me. As he got within reaching distance he took hold of the ripped towelling robe, and started to pull it from me, ripping it further.

"SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!!!!"

I let out the longest and loudest scream I could muster, and even though Graham tried to subdue it with his hand I kept up the noise. He stepped back and brought an open palmed hand across my face,

"SLAP!"

It stung like hell, but in less than a second, as I overcame the initial shock I resumed my scream. I saw his hand rise again, and mentally prepared myself for the pain. But it never came, Peter had now sprung to his feet, and he grappled with Graham restraining his hands.

"Enough of that. I agreed to the sex stuff because I thought she was gonna be easy. But I'm not gonna be a party to any rough stuff. At this point Graham grabbed the remote, ejected the video, and stomped off out of the room. As he went through the door he said,

"You haven't heard the last of this."

Peter took hold of my hands, and then as he gently stroked my face he said,

"I'm sorry about all that. And as for what happened upstairs, I meant what I said, you were the best. And if you do ever want a job modelling, just get in contact, and I'll find you work instantly. And I don't mean as a prostitute. Bye love, and take care."

And then they were gone. I sat there for a good hour just crying, I'm not sure why. Was it because Graham might still cause trouble for Gerry? Or because I'd been raped? Or because in reality it hadn't actually been rape, but I had actually let them fuck me? I don't know myself, but when I eventually stopped crying, I realised it wouldn't be long before Gerry would be home from work. I dashed upstairs and did whatever was necessary in our room to remove all signs of what had taken place, and I'd just walked into the kitchen to start on the evening meal when I heard a key in the front door.

It had to be Gerry, he was the only one besides me with a key, but it was a good half an hour before he was due home. Then I heard his voice,

"Hi honey, it's me."

As I walked from the kitchen I said,

"You're early."

And then I saw Graham walking down the hall directly behind Gerry.

"Err Mary, can you come and sit down a minute; I've got a bit of bad news."

My mind was racing, Gerry's reaction wasn't what I might have expected if he'd seen the photos Graham had taken of me, or for that matter the video. So what was it? I didn't have long to wait to find out, as I sat down in the chair, Gerry sat on the sofa with Graham; Graham sitting in the same position he'd been in just a few hours earlier.

"I've been caught out by the CCTV cameras at work."

I knew I had to play innocent, so I asked,

"Caught, doing what?"

"Well it's the stuff I bring home; they've got evidence of me deliberately damaging pallets so that I can scrap them off. And if they take the evidence to the police, I could go to prison."

"So what happens now, have you been with the police?"

"No they haven't reported it yet."

"I don't understand."

"Look Mary, you know I love you. Don't you?"

He looked so embarrassed saying this, especially in front of his boss.

"Yes. Of course I do."

"I don't really want to ask you this. But it's the only way I can save my job, and not end up in prison."

I obviously knew what Graham was playing at, but I couldn't tell Gerry what had already taken place. And even if I did, it wouldn't help. So I just answered as I thought he'd expect me to,

"Ask me what?"

He passed over a catalogue, the company name across the top said, 'Erotic Nights' 'Sexy lingerie to spice up the long winter nights'.

"If you'll model this stuff for Mr Spencer's friend who owns that company, then he says he'll let me keep my job, and he won't go to the police."

I opened the catalogue, and the kind of stuff in there was as you might expect. I asked Gerry,

"Have you seen this stuff?"

"Yes. I know it's a bit skimpy. But you will be on a stage, and nobody will be able to get near enough to touch you."

"A stage? What do you mean?"

"He's explained it all to me. It's all above board. You'll have someone to help you dress, a female of course. And it will be in a private club, with only selected guest. They'll be a hired security man, so you won't be in any danger."

"So you've already discussed the details before you even asked me?"

"Well yes, I couldn't ask you without knowing you'd be alright."

"And you want me to appear on stage in front of a load of strange men, wearing this?"

I at this point held the catalogue open showing a thong similar in size to the one I'd modelled earlier for Graham and Peter.

"Please Mary. I know they don't cover much, but if you don't, then I'm in real trouble. I wouldn't ask if I could see any other way out."

What could I say? Here was my husband begging me to do the very thing I'd told Graham just a few hours earlier that I wouldn't consider. I looked at Graham, and as I said,

"Ok, you'd better make the arrangements, and let me know which night you want me,"

I gave him my most angry scowl. It was Graham, who now spoke,

"I think you made a wise choice there Mrs Kendal. Oh that does sound so formal, especially as I expect I'll be seeing so much more of you in the future. Do you mind if I use your first name?"

Gerry about burst himself to get his answer out before me,

"No of course not Mr Spencer. Her name is Mary."

"Right Mary, have you prepared Gerry's meal yet?"

I wondered what on earth he wanted to know that for, but I just replied,

"Well no. I was just about to start on it when you arrived."

"That's good. Now Gerry lad, it's your call, but I know you and the lads were talking about the match tonight."

(Apparently there was some football match being shown on TV)

At this point Graham took out his wallet, and pulled out a £20 note, as he offered it to Gerry he continued,

"Here's a twenty, order yourself a take-away, and some beer, and while you settle down to watch the game, I'll take your little lady out for a meal."

I spoke before Gerry had chance to accept,

"No it's alright. I don't feel like going out; thank you."

"Oh that is a shame. I know Peter Harris is in town today, he's been to checkout a new model,"

Then he looked at Gerry,

"He's the advertising man for the undies firm. It would have been an ideal time to get this sorted. If we miss him, it could take weeks before we get him down here again. And you know what that means? Until we get something agreed, your head is still on the chopping block."

Gerry looked at me,

"What's wrong? Don't you feel well?"

"I've got a bit of a headache."

Then he came right up close and whispered in my ear.

"Please. You don't know what I'm going through. I've got more than just a bit of a headache, I'm sick to the bottom of my guts. Please do this, just for me. I just need to know where I stand."

Again I was trapped; Gerry needed my help, so how could I say no.

"Well ok I'll meet this man, but can't he come here?"

"Not wanting to offend you or anything, but look around you. This guy heads up a big advertising firm, he's used to doing his business in posh hotels. I can hardly invite him to your semi-detached two-up two-down. What I'll do is go and make a few calls, and I'll get back here for seven."

I thought to myself, 'That's rich; he wasn't too posh to come here this afternoon and fuck me into a state of oblivion'. But I obviously didn't say anything. Then again he deliberately turned and looked at Gerry,