The Oakfield Council Estate somewhere in England. Chav babe Becky Taylor has stolen her mother's weekly £300 loan shark repayment.
Following a harrowing rollicking from her irate mother and threats of further severe consequence, Becky has until midnight to replace the money...
Part 1 - 7 O'clock.
Stacey glanced down to the concrete square of ground that the Oakfield estate flats besieged. Crossing the expanse in the glare of the setting sun was a chav slut that Stacey only really knew by appearance. She was new-ish to the estate and had already insinuated herself with the Oakfield south flat's gang. Stacey lived at the north end herself.
The short slender brunette looked like some cute slutty girl barely into her teens, but Stacey knew her to be older (certainly over eighteen). Her hair, a glistening wet-look was brown and tussled in waves with streaks of dirty blonde peaking out from underneath. It was kept away from her face by a cream scrunchy, drawn out from the back of her scalp into a pony tail. Her small ears were adorned with two pairs of gold hoops and gold studs as well. She was wearing a cream cropped jacket with gold and black crossed thread grid-detailing.
Visible beneath the unzipped jacket was a plain black and tight fitting high-necked top, that showed off the mass of cheap mock gold bling slung around her slender neck. It swung side to side to the fast pace of her hurried stride, sliding across the acute upper curves of her perky, upward thrusting tits. And her tits were big, bigger even than Stacey's.
Sky blue denim shorts with ripped away legs, that were at least a size too small and enticingly hugging the perky curves of her round high buttocks, covered the sheer black tights caressing her shapely legs that themselves ended in faux fur lined black suede boots with silver buckles running down the outside leg from calf to ankle.
"Who the fuck's she supposed to be, anyway?" Stacey thought to herself, contemptuously flicking ash from her cigarette.
Becky Taylor's head was buzzing. Not with the joint she'd snaffled from her mother's ready-rolled stash in the kitchen drawer but from the threat her mother had left her with before storming out of their council flat for Christ knew where.
"You better have that fucking money back here by midnight, or it'll be you who goes 'round to Garton's and tells him what you did with his money. See what he does to you then! I ain't taking the blame for it! You stupid, stupid little tart! It was bad enough having to take his cock when I sealed the deal. Tore my arse he did!" She scowled momentarily at the painful memory, unconscious rubbed her backside. Then looked back at her elder daughter.
"Why can't you be more like your sister?" She whined, then turned on her heel and finished with a loud slamming of the front door.
"Fuck you, mum!" Becky yelled after her, but the threat of having to visit the loan shark was already beginning to sink in.
Becky had scraped fifty quid together from a couple of girls she had lent to last week and a little loose change she had in her sock drawer. Blind luck that they hadn't already pissed it away and were fair about giving it back.
And she had a few ideas forming about getting the cash but she didn't see how she could get anywhere near 300 quid.
She had more owed to her and they'd have to pay up, quick-fucking-smart.
She didn't think there was much worth selling. Most of their valuables had long since been hocked for drugs or to make last week's loan repayment - and that he been a close run thing.
She was almost across the square when she spotted the lads, all shell suits, attitudes and baseball caps. Her heart started to pound as she realised how late it was getting. Not the best idea to wander around Oakfield after sunset. At least not alone.
But then she breathed a sigh of relief - they were Southern Oaks. She was in with them, they wouldn't hurt her.
And then as she came in closer, she saw they were just starters, low ranking but eager to prove themselves.
She had even been fucked by a couple of them at a party last week, she vaguely recollected.
They were looking at her and chattering between them, rough, high pitched, thick accents
"That's that Becky Taylor, She's well fuckin' hot!"
"She's a fuckin' dirty bitch is what she is!"
"You sayin' you wouldn't?"
"'Course he fuckin' would!! He'd shag her fuckin' brains out, man!"
"Like you did last week Mick?" There was laughter at that.
"Fuck you! I was fucking pissed!"
"You fucking shot your load after about ten fucking seconds!"
"Fuck off man!"
"She fucking yawned you prick!"
"You want a fucking shiv in your fucking eye do you?!"
"Relax it boy! I'm riding you, fucking relax, prick!"
Then one of them leaned forward and caught Becky's eye.
"Hey Becky Taylor!"
"What?"
"Why not come over 'ere, get your mouth around this." He shouted, levering a pale half-mast phallus out of his elasticated waist band. Becky eyed the hardening cock coldly. It was actually quite thick... For an immature weasel.
"Maybe when you've... Grown up a bit more." She retorted tartly.
"More'n enough ere' for you bitch." He said roughly. "Fucking more'n enough!"
Becky stuck her tongue out and steered her direction a little wider of them.
"Oh, fuck her. Anyway, you should try clapping eyes on her little sister, now that's fucking talent!"
"Fuckin' right too! Fuckin' twice as hot as that piece."
"Fucking get'em both together man! Fucking shag one, shag the other, then make 'em put on a show for you..."
"You've bin thinking a bit too much about this, you prick!"
"Fuck you, cunt! I'm getting fucking sick of you."
Their raucous noise trailed away as Becky headed for home. Their distant banter starting to turn argumentative.
However, they had given her the beginnings of an idea. Her brat of a sister could make her money easily.
