The Burner Phones

From the bath of SemperAmare

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Yes, folks, you read right; from the bath of SemperAmare, 'cause that is where we concocted the plot for this bit of fiction, and it is fiction, not a docudrama. So, sit back, relax, maybe have a drink, and enjoy a little escapism with us. Damned sight better for you than getting high or drunk; cheaper too. Oh, and much more fun than anal retentive nit-picking and comparing to real life dramas

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For livers in the imperial world, we've used metric measurements as we live in the enlightened world, where only babies, alcohol, and cocks are measured in the old system. For the sake of ease, a metre is as close as damn-it to a yard and a kilometre is a little over half a mile.

Many thanks to Jim, Joe, and Charlie for checking our logic.

*****

IT WAS PERHAPS ONE of the most bizarre tableaux in history.

Lucy was sexually excited. Very sexually excited. She was sure she could feel her own juices running down the inside of her leg. Or was it the lube she'd recently squirted into her own anus, before inserting a finger to smear it around? She could certainly feel something sliding from under the fire-engine-red, slinky, and ever so short, evening dress she'd chosen for the occasion. The cowled neckline plunged in a sharp V to her navel. Definitely, no bra possible. The trickle now felt like it was half way to her right knee, its path not hindered by panties; something else she'd decided to forgo for the night. The fluid tickled, and normally she'd be horrified and reach down to wipe it away. Not now, though. Not while handcuffed to the bonnet of one of her husband's company cars as she was.

Looking around, unworriedly, she wondered which of the dark bushes Dirk and his accomplice would emerge from. Then her mind flitted to wondering what the other guy would look like. The stranger that Dirk had organised. A travelling salesman, apparently, who had only been in town since yesterday and who would be gone tomorrow. Gone with absolutely no idea who he'd fucked this night. Dirk had assured her the guy was well hung, so it hadn't occurred to her to ask whether he was short or tall, fat or thin. Lucy was so aroused that she didn't give a damn. In fact, in a weird way, it would enhance the fantasy if he was ugly. All that mattered was having that fat dick of his jammed up her drooling pussy, while Dirk lubed up his more modest cock, before mounting her from behind.

Come on, Dirk, I'm ready.

She and Dirk, had been planning every detail of the role-play event that was about to begin, for weeks. He knew exactly what she wanted and had gone to extraordinary lengths to make it happen. Not only finding some nameless, faceless guy to help him but getting two police uniforms from god only knew where.

Lucy marvelled at how far she'd come in the last year, on her journey from vanilla to... this. If there was a switch for kink in the brain then Dirk had certainly switched on hers. And it seemed like with every encounter it grew. What had started as a drip was now a flood. Hell, the dam walls had been broken. Far from what she'd ever expected when her last fledgling had flown the nest.

Lucy scanned the bushes again and moaned in frustration against the gag across her mouth. Where was Dirk?

Sure, the setting wasn't one-hundred percent accurate for the fantasy, but a moonlit glade, kilometres from town was far safer than anything more realistic. Yes, she could have done this at home, but the familiar surroundings would have detracted from the fantasy. Her outfit was perfect; sexy but slutty and teamed with CFM pumps. Even the masquerade mask she'd donned matched the dress, being red and studded with fake jewels. The latter in place to ensure that there was no possibility of the stranger recognising her from a billboard or newspaper.

Was the gag justifiable? Maybe not, but it sure added to the feeling of helplessness that she was trying to immerse herself in. She wanted to truly live her role. She looked down at her late-forties body. Would guys still pay for a body like this? Lucy smiled to herself. Yes, they would. Hours at the gym, in the yoga studio, and under the needle had seen to that.

Whatever was running down her leg was tickling her again, her skin made hypersensitive from excitement. Lucy wished Dirk and his friend would reveal themselves. She desperately needed one of them to get busy licking her clean.

It had been a frustrating four weeks since Dirk and she'd last had sex. First her girls only road trip to deliver her youngest to university, then his business trip. No wonder she was gushing. All that had happened for that month was planning today, or should she say, tonight, and what was about to happen. She hoped he'd remember all his lines. She needed him to play his part so she could lose herself in hers.

She was dressed provocatively because in her fantasy she worked as a prostitute; top-of-the-range, of course. In the scenario, a client had hired her for the night and driven her into this secluded glade. Before they had time to do anything, though, two policemen had rumbled them. The client had taken off as fast as he'd been able. The police gave chase, but he'd gotten away. Then the policemen, one of whom was very decently hung, would return to get the hooker, the one they'd handcuffed to her client's car to prevent her escaping as well. Frustrated by their unsuccessful chase, they'd take out their anger on a helpless victim. Lucy almost fainted as her pussy and ass clenched in anticipation of being at their mercy.

She looked around the moonlit scene once again.

Come on, Dirk, your slut is ready.

******

MEANWHILE, BEHIND A BUSH, under the same moonlight, Dirk made some adjustments as he eyed his objective. The blue trousers he'd rented from the costume shop were too tight and he couldn't do the button up, so he tightened the belt and tucked the band under it. They only needed to last half a minute, after all. That's how long it would take to get from where he was to where she waited. Unlike the trousers, the hat was too loose; but, so what if it fell off during the excitement? Seeing all was ready, it was time to go. Giving his co-conspirator a nudge and a nod, he stepped from the bush and strode toward their target.

******

FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLIER AND from a different bush, John watched as a woman drove into the clearing, cracked the door of the car open a little, triggering the internal light to come on. The light revealed her texting someone. He saw her read a reply, smile, then clamber out. She looked familiar.

He lost sight of her as she walked to the rear of the vehicle and opened the trunk. A minute or two passed. John wondered what the hell she was doing. After closing the trunk, she stepped to the far side of the car. Her head disappeared. John could just make out her scantily clad bottom jutting past the rear of the car. She was crouching and doing something under her short dress.

John raised the camera dangling heavily from a strap around his neck and expertly focused on her, trying to ascertain what she was doing. It didn't help; the wheel and body of the car blocked too much of her out. John shrugged, it didn't matter. With the camera's 300-zoom lens he knew it was going to take some great photos. Hell, you'd be able to see every freckle.

She reappeared on the near side of the car. John suppressed a gasp. She was in what he could only describe as a fuck-me dress. It was so short he could see the beginning of her arse and there was no way she could wear a bra—the neckline plunged all the way to her navel. Ironically, her best covered feature was her face. Over it she'd placed a fancy mask that went from her top lip to her brow. Her blonde hair, which had been loose, was now in a jewelled hair clip as well. It, along with the mask, glinted in the moonlight. Through the zoom, John saw her straighten and slip a tube of something into a drawstring pouch she was holding. John clicked away.

He saw the strange woman rest the bag on the hood, reach in and remove a strap. He watched incredulously as the vaguely familiar person then did something even more bizarre. She wrapped the strap around her own mouth and cinched it up.

WTF?

Reaching in the bag again, the mystery woman withdrew a short length of rope with a loop at each end and a shiny object. Without hesitation, she threaded the rope through the bars of the radiator grill before attaching the handcuffs; yes, John could see them for what they were now, then snapped them to one loop and one wrist at a time. She was now anchored to the car with about half a metre of freedom provided by the rope. As a last act, she pulled a phone from the bag and rested it on the bumper of the car, then sat on the same bumper and stretched her long legs out.

John was reeling at the thought of the voyeuristic scene he was almost certainly about to witness if he stayed. When he'd been anonymously tipped off to be hiding at this remote glade, at this precise time, he'd no idea what to expect. It certainly wasn't this, though.

He heard his phone chirp quietly. The search he'd initialised while the strange woman was busy at the trunk of the car, had borne fruit. The registered owner of the car in the clearing was Mr. D. Berwick, much admired owner of the town's biggest medical centre. The same man whose blonde, leggy wife was behind just about every charity within miles and who was about to receive the local Australia Day award for Citizen of the Year. John looked at her scantily clad form again. Lucy Berwick certainly didn't dress like that for the society pages. No wonder he'd had trouble placing her.

After thrusting his phone back in his pocket, John placed his hand on his camera again. He gripped it but didn't raise it to his eye. He had a choice. He could walk away right now without any truly compromising photographs. He could leave a reputation intact. Or, he could take some photographs that would be worth $5K in the morning, but closer to $50K the day after, when the national tabloids got a whiff of the juicy scandal involving a local celebrity.

John was uncomfortable with the decision, so he decided to defer it. In the meantime, he'd stay put and just take the photos. He could always delete them later. He made the final adjustments to get the best outcome from the low light conditions. All the while his head swam with his newfound personal revelation. Who the fuck would have guessed that the Berwick's were into dogging? Lucy Berwick's current behaviour aside, it was an open secret that the glade was a dogging site. John thought everyone knew.

John knew enough about the sordid underbelly of society to know that adherents of the hobby came in two distinct types. One set liked to fuck their partner while anonymous voyeurs looked on. The others either invited the onlookers to join in or liked to watch while their partner took on all comers.

'Oh, well,' John thought, 'it takes all sorts to make a world.' Still, he was shocked; he'd always thought highly of the well-known couple.

John had been hiding in his little bush since 9:00 p.m.—two hours. Even before Lucy Berwick showed up, he'd been aware of other people in the vicinity. One had walked right past him and taken station halfway between his hiding spot and the car. If it was Lucy's husband, then he was obviously going to be one of the anonymous guys that fucked his wife or wanted a grandstand view of the action when it happened. John stretched his legs while he waited for events to unfold in the light of the bright full moon.

******

NOW TEN METRES FROM his bush, Dirk reached down and unzipped his fly to adjust his throbbing erection. He didn't bother zipping up again. Why bother? He fixed his eyes on his target and strode toward it with purpose; his newfound friend a step behind.

******

LUCY HAD HER OOZING pussy facing the grill of the car, looking over the roof to where she thought Dirk and his stranger would emerge from. Too late, she heard the snap of a twig from behind her. Before she could turn, a pair of arms grabbed her from behind, spreading her arms wide on the hood, an upper torso forced hers forward, a face pressed into the back of her neck. The smell of the man behind her was unfamiliar so Dirk was obviously allowing the stranger to go first. The man's right hand released her arm and disappeared to lift the skimpy skirt of her dress, exposing her bare arse to the sultry night air. A foot impatiently nudged her legs apart. Lucy had no sooner adjusted her stance when she felt what was unmistakably a cock prodding her crevice. It landed in that sensitive spot between the holes.

So much for foreplay

. Lucy stood on tippy toes and thrust back cautiously to ensure entry to her vagina.

The guy behind her entered her none too gently, but that was fine. She wasn't here to be made love to; she was here to be fucked. Dirk had done well, the guy felt big. Arching her back, she basked in the thrilling sensations. This was better than her best imaginings. The guy's hands grabbed her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust to ensure maximum penetration. With any luck, she'd be able to time her orgasm—it was building nicely—to the stranger's. It would have been nice to feel his big cock explode inside her, but she'd made Dirk promise that wearing a condom was a non-negotiable condition for his pick-up. Oh well, she couldn't have everything.

A third hand slipped between her buttocks and the body behind her; going lower every time her buttocks separated from her lover's. It must be Dirk; the other guy was still holding her hips. At least Dirk wouldn't have to use a rubber.

Come on, Dirk, you know what I want.

She felt the new hand extend one finger, then two, and inch, when movement made it possible, toward her anus. After four more cycles it reached its goal. Lucy forced herself to relax as she felt two fingers enter to at least the first knuckle. She was in heaven as they matched pace to the guy's thrusts. She knew what was going to happen next. It had consumed her dreams for a long time. The knowledge pushed her over the edge and she screamed her orgasm into the gag.

From her high, she wasn't exactly sure what happened next, but some shuffling had occurred. The guy in her cunt had withdrawn, inserted himself between her and the car hood, seating himself on the bumper. He dragged her down on him. It was an awkward angle and he could only get a couple of inches inside her, but that was enough. Lucy squeezed her eyes tight shut. She didn't need to see the stranger, he was just a cock to her. Bracing herself for what was to come, she splayed her legs wider, just as Dirk's cock behind her nudged her lubed sphincter. He'd been that route many times before and she panted in anticipation. She wouldn't even mind him being a little rougher than usual to play along with the fantasy that this wasn't consensual. Two uniformed strangers taking what they could.

Searing pain suffused Lucy's bowels and the breath was driven from her lungs. This time, the scream into her gag wasn't that of pleasure. Sensing Dirk's head just behind and above her left shoulder, she did a reverse nod in that direction. Pain, she had to inflict pain on him. Anything to relieve the burning agony splitting her bowels, caused by too fast an entry.

Dirk must have anticipated the move, however. He ducked his head sideways, his chin against her neck. That's when she felt it: his beard. It scratched the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck.

Beard? What the f...? Dirk didn't have a beard.

Turning her head to maximise her vision between the eye holes of the mask, she saw what she saw and didn't see what she didn't see. The arms grasping her waist weren't clad in police blue. In fact, they were bare. Except for the tattoos, that is.

Dirk didn't have tattoos either.

A rough voice came to her from about three metres beyond her right shoulder. It obviously didn't belong to the short guy grunting away underneath her or the big guy sodomising her quickly and painfully.

"Take it, slut."

Even though it was exactly what Lucy had been hoping to hear a few minutes ago, it filled her with dread now. Glancing in that direction, she confirmed two things that made her heart sink further. The new guy standing there stroking his cock with a sickening leer on his face wasn't Dirk. He wasn't wearing blue either. He wasn't part of her fantasy.

None of them were.

******

DIRK ADJUSTED HIS HAT and put his hand on the door knob of the house's back door. He could hear the rough breaths of his partner-in-crime behind him.

He was surprised that Lucy knew anyone in this, the seedier part of town, but, apparently, she did. Her friend going away for the weekend, asking Lucy to housesit and look after her dog, provided them with the golden opportunity to live out their fantasy. The house was now a brothel and he was the policeman raiding it. She was going to wantonly fuck her way out of a police record with every hole she had.

Simultaneously turning the doorknob and putting his shoulder to it, Dirk excitedly threw the door open while raising the toy cap pistol he'd scrounged from his children's old toy box.

******

JOHN LOWERED HIS CAMERA, still eyeing the scene before him. Instinct told him that things were no longer going the way Lucy Berwick had intended. John made a snap decision. There were three of them and only one of him but he couldn't do nothing. He fished his phone from his pocket he sent a text to a contact he had in the police department suggesting they make haste to the dogging site to rescue a solitary woman. Within seconds he received a

thumbs up

reply.

John replaced the phone. He intentionally avoided looking at Lucy Berwick again. He'd seen enough. Photographed enough. It hadn't proved to be the voyeuristic delight he'd imagined. In the cold moonlight it had seemed more sordid that erotic. But, to each his own. One man's turn-on was another man's turn-off. Either way, what was on his camera's memory card was newsworthy-gold.

As quietly as possible John backed out of his hiding spot and crept to his car.

******

LUCY'S SCREAMS OF PAIN, into her gag, toned down as her arse went numb, to be replaced by frustrated cries of anguish. She screamed through the guy behind her unloading in her arse and staggering backward. She was unfeeling of the mini tidal wave of cum following his cock being pulled out. Any idea of escape was curtailed as the guy underneath reached around and trapped her to him. Sensing something to her right, she turned around and watched in disgust as the unparticipating voyeur stepped in and wanked a load onto her right thigh. Funny how the context changed everything, turning arousal and pleasure to pain and revulsion.

Before she could recover from the shock that was numbing her soul, the guy underneath tensed and unloaded. As he manoeuvred out from under her, Lucy looked down in horror as his semen dripped out of her red and stretched sex.

Tears streamed down her face at the destruction of a year of dreams, months of hopes, and weeks of plans. Now, instead of the pleasant memories of multiple orgasms to lull her to sleep for months to come; she knew she had months of sweating, waiting for the various STD test results to come back. Where the fuck was Dirk? Using a protruding corner of the hood, she rubbed the gag off her mouth and below her pretty chin. She shouted his name around the now empty clearing. Nothing.

The chirp of an incoming text and her phone screen lighting up in the darkness drew Lucy's sick and worried attention. She used her restricted movement to get her phone from where it had fallen off the bumper and under the front of the car. As she hit the standby button, she saw she had a message. It was from Dirk. It simply read, '

Had to go home in a hurry. See you at usual place, at the usual time'.

Irate, but still following the rules to never ring, Lucy bashed a reply text on the keyboard.

Come back and get me NOW!

The device remained silent, until a good two minutes later came,

'Sorry, can't. With C.'