Chav 2
BECKY TAYLOR'S BACK!
PART ONE:
THE TROJAN METHOD
"Hey! They've got that Becky Taylor's doing a lez show with some blonde piece upstairs. Come'n av'a look mate!"
Thinking of Becky Taylor, that sexy teen slut with the brown hair and great body, Paul excitedly climbed the stairs, following the other teenage lad. His balls were empty for the moment, but his dick was still tingling, and the half bottle of vodka in his hand was aiding his youthful vigour already. Seeing that dirty bitch and some hot blonde getting it on in front of an audience might be something to see.
He wondered for a moment about his date, Emma McDonald, the reason his balls were empty. She was downstairs somewhere, entertaining a couple of gang lads from the estate. Without her consent of course, but who cared about what bitches thought anyway? They were there to bang. And he'd had his fun on her, now it should be someone else's turn.
He had asked McDonald to the house party on the spur of the moment after class on Thursday and had been gratified, enjoying a big bulging hard-on, when she'd said okay. He wasn't bothered about her now though. He'd already fucked her, which he'd been after doing since the get go. But now it was time for fresh meat.
He had picked her up outside her house, admittedly a little disappointed in her attire. The tightness of her baby blue denim jeans was nice and showed off her fleshy but pert ass and curvy legs, but her upper body was quite well concealed in a navy blue hoodie with bright pink graffiti emblazoned across her nicely bouncy young tits. The gold hoop earrings, gold crucifix and day-glow pink trainers completed the local chav look. A bright pink hair band drew the glossy mahogany bob back away from her round face.
She was quite a pretty girl, maybe a little more meat on her bones than was quite necessary but she was still youthfully pert and bouncy and when she smiled her whole face lit up. There was also a definite heat in her lush brown eyes that gave her a cheeky and sexual vibe that Paul had always found very enticing, almost to the point when his horniness was uncontrollable around her. She just looked dirty, like she'd be up for anything.
He'd met her outside her house without having worked out exactly how to get her to the party. But three older black lads from Paul's estate, Asher, his elder brother and Freddie turned up in their souped up Ford Escort and offered them a lift. Paul accepted quickly, though he was very suspicious when he was offered the front passenger seat while Emma was bundled into the backseat, deliberately flanked by Asher and Freddie, with Asher's brother driving.
They were barely around the first bend when they lads in the back seat started on Emma. At once, Asher threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, Emma cringed and lowered her head but said nothing. She was obviously afraid of them too. At the same time Freddie placed a hand on her plump thigh and gave it an exploratory squeeze.
Of course, Emma remained silent and still and the lads, of course, chose to see it as permission to carry on at her.
To start with Paul could do nothing about it. He threw them pleading looks and had dagger eyes thrown back for his trouble. These older lads already had a reputation and Paul didn't dare go against them. At least not physically. He watched as Freddie's other hand shoved it's way down the backseat to make a grab for Emma's perky ass.
"Please..." Emma whimpered, biting her bottom lip.
Asher shushed her as he stroked a hand down her short bob cut hair, down her cheek.
"...Don't." Emma murmured, barely above a whisper and not in the least bit convincing.
Asher pressed his index finger onto her lips to silence her and then stroked it down her throat and over the curve of her breast above her hooded top.
Emma whimpered, fighting back the urge to cry as her young breasts were then groped liberally through her top.
"Be nice won't you lads?" Paul said trying to be placating. "That's my date."
"Fuck off Paul." Freddie said sliding his thick fingers further between Emma's thighs until his thumb rested against the bulge of her pussy. Emma squirmed.
"We're bein' nice, ain't we white meat?" Asher muttered to Emma, his predatory face inches from her down cast one.
Then Asher's caressing hand hooked Emma's chin and lifted her face to meet his and he slapped his full lips onto hers, tongue worming insistently into her fear slack mouth, and he French kissed her deeply and lustfully. Her hand came up in a reactionary flinch but she stopped herself from trying to pull him off her face. Freddie switched his molesting from upper thighs to tits. Both large hands coming up to the younger girl's chest to grasp and knead her perky handful tits.
Again she reacted, one hand snatching at his wrist but she stayed short of trying to pull his hands off her.
Instead, she took Asher's tongue into her mouth and consented to Freddie's cruelly mauling hands on her breasts with fear-filled reluctance.
"You know about her Irish connection don't you?" Paul said. Trying to make it a casual remark. That tactic was all he could think of.
"Huh?" Freddie grunted. One hand tugging down the zipper of his trousers over the Herculean bulge of his erection, the other all but crushing Emma's tits in his rough palm.
"Her Uncle's in the Reals mate."
"What the fuck are you drivelling about honky?!"
"The Real IRA. They're the ones who supply your lot with your guns you know..."
"So fucking what?!"