Never Play Truth Or Dare

Ian's practised eyes idly scanned the clientele of the club as he drained his beer. He and Karl had been there for some time and were thinking of moving on. There was no rush to pull: he would rather invest more time at the outset and secure playmates for several months than settle for a one night stand. He made his way to the gents' and it was as he returned that he spotted two likely candidates. He watched them covertly for some minutes before nudging Karl to draw his attention to them.

A little younger than their usual targets, these two couldn't have been more than 18, a perfect blend of innocent and desirable. Both were very pretty, slender yet curvy in the right places, wearing short strappy satin dresses. Ian's eyes were drawn to the plump swell of their breasts, braless nipples straining at the tight fabric as they danced provocatively, glancing around to gauge their effect on the many groups of men in the club. The slightly taller one with dark skin and glossy straight black hair to her waist was his; the petite blonde would be Karl's. When the two girls headed for the bar, Ian and Karl followed.

Karl winked at the barman as he served the girls and their heads swivelled to look over, smiling tentatively at the two middle-aged men, as the barman explained that the drinks were on them. The men waited for the girls to join them and the foursome shouted into each other's ears for a few moments until the men guided their conquests through a door into a private room.

"That's better," Ian said. "Now we can talk."

He began to probe the dark-haired girl for information. Her name was Shahla. She was mixed-race, her mother Indian and her father white. She was, as he'd guessed, 18, a sixth former at a Catholic girls' school in the suburbs. Incautiously, she revealed that she and her friend Katrina had got the train into the capital for the evening and had each lied that they were staying overnight at the other's house. He was as open in return, truthfully explaining that he and Karl were married business men in their 50s who went home to their wives in the country at weekends but shared a rented house in the city during the week.

Soon, the two couples were kissing hungrily.

When Ian judged the time right, he stroked her inner thigh and asked, "Are you a virgin, Shahla?"

She shook her head, blushing prettily.

He grinned. "Good."

Karl went for more drinks, slipping half a pill into each of the girls'. They didn't want them senseless, not yet: just pliant, relaxed and entirely disinhibited.

Ian initiated a game of truth and dare.

A dare and a truth later, Ian had succeeded in slipping the left strap of Shahla's dress from her shoulder to reveal her round, firm breast. His tongue trailed down her throat and lapped at the dark brown nipple, which puckered and stiffened as his saliva bathed it. Shahla groaned and buried her fingers in his thick silver hair. His hand slid up her leg, pushing the gusset of her knickers to one side. Her mound was bald and damp. He slid one finger along her slit and then into her tight, slippery opening as she gasped and panted.

He released her nipple with a pop and asked, "How many men have you had sex with?"

His finger curled within her and Shahla struggled to think clearly. "Fucked?" she whispered. "Three."

Katrina, who was sitting in Karl's lap, felt his teeth sink into the underside of her right breast, indicating it was her turn to answer. "Seven," she hissed.

"How old were they?"

The girls admitted that their previous partners had been around their own age.

Ian and Karl grinned at each other (some experience but not spoiled: perfect) as they pushed the game further.

"How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

Shahla admitted she'd been 15, Katrina - to ribald laughter - 13.

"Do you spit or swallow?" Karl asked next.

Shahla shuddered. "Spit," she said. "But Katrina loves to swallow, the dirty ho."

"Shut up!" laughed Katrina.

"Interesting," grinned Karl, his dark eyes dancing. "Tell me more."

Katrina giggled. "Alright," she conceded. "You've got me. I love the taste of jizz. My favourite fantasy is to suck off cock after cock until the semen is overflowing my mouth and running down my naked chest."

She felt Karl's dick harden against her perineum. "Fuck," he said, taken aback by her frankness. "That's definitely my favourite fantasy too."

He kissed her deeply, rolling her pink nipples between his fingers.

"What about you, Shahla?" Ian murmured in the teenager's ear. "What do you fantasise about?"

She hesitated to say it aloud.

"Tell me," he pressed her. "Tell me, and I might make it happen."

She shivered and drew a deep breath. "I'd like to have my pussy eaten so I came over and over," she admitted. "After a while my clit would be so sensitive it almost hurt, but he wouldn't care. He'd just keep eating me and eating me..." Her voice trailed off as Ian's thumb found her clit and strummed it lightly.

"Let's get out of here," Karl suggested.

The men half-carried the drunk girls into a black cab from where, as Karl occupied the two girls with hands and tongue, Ian sent out group texts to contacts with similar interests. The drugs had done their job and the teenagers willingly allowed the men to strip off their flimsy dresses, giggling as the Indian cab driver complimented their firm young breasts. And so it was that, had Ian and Karl's neighbours happened to glance out of their upstairs windows at a few minutes after eleven, they would have seen two girls clad only in thongs and ludicrously high heels totter up the path, naked tits jiggling, to the narrow terraced house, followed by two much older men with trousers very tight in the crotch, admiring the view of their dates' firm, young buttocks.

The girls stumbled, still giggling, through the front door as Karl reached around them to unlock it. Click, click, click went their skyscraper heels on the black-and-white tiled floor of the hallway and click went the front door behind them. The men exchanged grins and then pulled the teenagers into their arms, kissing them deeply while simultaneously reaching down to relieve them of their knickers. Ian savoured the feel of Shahla's smooth, youthful nakedness against his still fully clothed torso. He cupped her lovely breasts in his hands and whispered in her ear, "Fuck, you are so beautiful." She smiled and sucked his tongue back into her eager mouth. He dropped his hands to her buttocks and lifted her slight form easily. Automatically, she wrapped her long slim legs around him and he carried her, still exploring her mouth with his tongue, into the sitting room. He dropped her onto a huge leather couch and poured all four of them a drink from a cabinet in the corner. Shahla gazed into his eyes, giving him her best drunk-but-seductive smile, as she drained her glass, then her eyes fluttered closed as she passed out.

When she regained consciousness, she knew before she forced open her heavy eyelids that she was no longer on the leather sofa. She was still on her back, but the surface beneath her was narrower and less padded, feeling like cotton beneath her naked buttocks which were perched right on the edge. Her arms were stretched above her head, restrained at the wrists by straps. Her thighs were spread and elevated, her calves suspended in leather loops in mid air. The situation she was in registered only gradually. Her head still swam from alcohol and drugs, and although she felt she should be panicking she was soothed by wet warmth on her nipples and between her legs. Bleary eyes focusing at last, she understood what was happening to her.

She lay splayed open on a metal table, covered with a disposable quilted pad. Her wrists and legs were secured in position by leather straps, and another passed around her waist, holding her down. The room was clinical and white with a tiled floor studded with drains, and a mirrored ceiling afforded her a perfect bird's eye view of herself. Buck-naked and spread-eagled, her lovely lithe, young body was surrounded by many other naked bodies - not young and lithe at all, but hairy, flabby and middle-aged.

She had thought herself daring and sophisticated allowing herself to be seduced by the much-older but still attractive men in the club. But she couldn't see Ian or Karl in the crowd surrounding her. All these men were older again and frankly ugly with their balding pates and rolls of fat. Despite this, Shahla felt desperately turned on. This, she realised, was tied to the wet warmth she had registered earlier. Mouths were clamped to each of her breasts, suckling vigorously, and another tongue was hard at work between her legs. She realised, as it slid along the folds of her pussy and began to move in small circles around her clit, that she was nearing a climax. She closed her doe eyes again and concentrated on the pinprick of light at her core, gradually spreading through her and increasing in intensity until she bucked and thrashed on the table. The three mouths on her body clamped down on her nipples and clit as the girl squirmed and tried to wriggle away. The tongue between her legs worried at her hyper-sensitive nub as she gasped and shuddered.

"Stop!" she whimpered, hoarsely, but the man ignored her, flicking the tip of his tongue over the tender flesh. Suddenly, Shahla recalled her tipsy confession to Ian:

I'd like to have my pussy eaten so I came over and over. After a while my clit would be so sensitive it almost hurt, but he wouldn't care. He'd just keep eating me and eating me...

and his promise:

Tell me. Tell me and I might make it happen.

She knew from the dull throbbing in her cunt that this wasn't her first orgasm of the evening and wondered how many times her comatose body had been made to come.

She and Katrina, she realised ruefully, had been little girls playing way out of their league.

In a rush of guilt, she now remembered Katrina describing her own fantasy. She whipped her head from side to side, searching for her friend. Finally, she made out the crown of her head, blonde hair matted. Katrina knelt on a cushion, her back against a heavy wooden pillar. On the reverse side of the pillar was a metal ring to which her friend's wrists were firmly bound with rope. Also clamped to the pillar was a contraption on a hinged arm. It was, Shahla thought, like the headrest she was asked to lean on at the optician's during her routine eye health checks: there was a cushioned pad on which Katrina's chin rested and a band across her forehead - but unlike at the optician's, this band was a wide leather strap secured at the back and preventing her head from moving. Now, Shahla also recognised Karl. He stood in front of Katrina, his pelvis crushing her nose, his hands holding her cheeks. His buttocks flexed and Shahla realised that his cock was deep in her friend's throat. Katrina gurgled and gagged as Karl withdrew a few inches of his thick shaft from between her swollen lips before plunging back into her mouth to the hilt. He fucked the girl's face languidly for a few seconds as saliva drooled from the corners of her stretched jaws and then announced, "I'm going to come now, Kitty-Kat. Get ready to swallow my load." Then he bottomed out in her throat again and emptied his balls, his arse cheeks pulsing as he pumped fluid into Katrina's open throat.

She choked and spluttered. Karl's creme overflowed her mouth and cascaded down her chin as she gulped rapidly. Her voice from the club echoed in Shahla's shocked ears:

My favourite fantasy is to suck off cock after cock until the semen is overflowing my mouth and running down my naked chest.

Be careful what you wish for, she thought, as Karl laughed. But as he withdrew from Katrina's mouth, Shahla saw that her friend was smiling up at him, licking his semen from her lips.

"You look beautiful, Kat," Karl told her. "Ian! Look at her!" And now Shahla saw Ian too, wielding an expensive-looking camera which he pointed at Katrina's face and body, pressing the shutter repeatedly.

"Perfect," he said, passing the camera to Karl and queue-jumping the line of waiting men with bobbing erections. "Must be my turn." But as he advanced towards Katrina, her mouth opening wide to suck him in, he glanced over his shoulder towards Shahla.

"Shahla!" he exclaimed in delight. "You're awake!" And without a second glance at Katrina, he clapped another man on the shoulder, saying, "You take this slut's mouth," and strode over to the splayed teenager.

"How many times have you come now, beautiful girl?"

The man whose tongue had been busy between her legs while she watched Katrina suck off Karl, lifted his face from Shahla's crotch. His cheeks and chin were shiny with her juice. His hands, cupping her arse, squeezed her buttocks as he said, "She only just woke, but I counted seven while she was still under and I was the lucky guy to give her her first conscious one."

Ian grinned widely. "Great. Don't worry, Shahla, beautiful. It's all on video. You won't have missed anything. Now, move aside, Dunc. I want to taste her cunt."

Shahla shivered. "You fucking bast-" she began, hotly - but then his tongue was probing at her pussy and she lost her train of thought.

Her clit was still thrumming from her earlier orgasms and she raced pellmell towards another peak as Ian's expert tongue slithered along her slit, teasing her by swerving away from her nub. She sobbed a little, tugging at her restraints, wanting to bury her fingers in his hair and force him to please her. Ian flicked her clit lightly and said to the men at her breasts, "Suck her titties really hard, guys. Force the slut to lactate."

They grinned and complied, the suction on her nipples making her groin fizz and froth. Ian laughed as she writhed and moaned. As her hips jumped into the air, he grazed her clit with his teeth and she came again, spraying his face with a geyser of girl-juice and collapsing limp and panting back to the table.

It was several seconds before Shahla could speak. Ian had reached for a towel and was wiping off the fluid that coated his face. Her clit throbbed and pulsed.

Mercilessly, he bent again to her cunt, stabbing at her opening with pointed tongue, laving her folds, nibbling her sensitive flesh. She moaned, trying to evade him, but he held her buttocks tight and continued the relentless stimulation. She came for him a second time, then a third, then a fourth. It was becoming painful now: she was sobbing as much as moaning, and there was another urgent problem.

"Ian," she croaked, "I need to pee."

"Go right ahead," he said, casually.

"Not here!" she cried, horrified. "Untie me. I need the bathroom."

"No need. That absorbent pad beneath you is made for naughty little girls like you who wet the bed. You go right ahead."

Shahla was speechless and humiliated. Tears slid down her cheeks but she held her bladder. She would not pee here, splayed wide, on video, in front of these old men.

Grinning wickedly, Ian motioned the next man in the crowd surrounding Shahla to take his place. His coarse fingers slid beneath her arse and his grey moustache tickled her sensitive pussy lips as he lowered his head to her twat.

As his tongue lapped at her clit the need to pee crescendoed. "No!" she shrieked, "No! Not here!"

Obligingly, the man desisted and the urge in Shahla ebbed. She panted in relief, but more men were gathering around her. There was a rumble of low conversation from which Shahla, in her panic, could make out only fractured snippets.

"Is she going to pee?"

"Let me get my phone."

"Must see this."

Once a large audience had assembled, the moustache touched her labia again and the tongue lapped at the tiny bundle of nerve endings in her crotch.

There was no stopping it now. As Shahla's climax hit her, she lost control. The moustache pulled away and a little fountain of urine erupted between her legs. There was a ripple of laughter and applause as her shame enveloped her, a puddle spreading below her and sinking into the pad, and tears slid from Shahla's lovely eyes.

When the stream of urine stopped, Ian said soothingly, "Better?"

Hands lifted her body, pulled the absorbent pad from beneath her and replaced it with another. Ian produced a package of baby wipes and gently but thoroughly cleaned her pussy lips and arse crack.

Shahla was still crying as the next man began to eat her out.

Three more orgasms were wrung from the girl's sated body before she needed to pee again. Exhausted, she barely protested this time as hands spread her thighs wider to afford a better view of a beautiful teenager passing water. Two men ejaculated on her belly as they watched. While Ian again carefully cleaned all traces of urine from her lower body, he left the sticky semen to dry on her smooth skin.

After this, her clit was numbed from the ceaseless stimulation and despite several changes of expert tongue, no more orgasms could be coaxed from her limp form.

Meanwhile, Katrina had swallowed so many loads of semen she had lost count. She too had peed on the cushion beneath her, to catcalls and applause, but had barely noticed, so focused was she on her aching jaw and sore throat. Her breasts were dripping with semen. The last four men in the group around her took turns thrusting into her tired mouth before standing back to shoot jizz over her pretty face. She looked incredible with rivers of spunk coating her and all those present captured the end game on their camera phones, before dressing, shaking hand with their hosts and going home to snatch some sleep before work in the morning.

Karl unstrapped Katrina's restraints, carried her up to his bed, wiped the excess come from her face and breasts and thrust his dick, hugely swollen from watching her used and degraded, into her tight, wet cunt. Katrina, who - unable to touch herself - had only reached three orgasms over the course of the evening, came explosively on his cock before falling dead asleep.

At the other extreme, Shahla's repeated orgasms had left her sore and chafed. Ian laid her gently on his bed before slathering his erection in creamy lube and easing it into her pussy. "No, please..." she whispered, but then was silent as he fucked her gently and pumped her full of come.

Ian and Karl had to work hard to placate their dates when they woke at midday, hungover, sore and abused but with hazy memories of their misadventures.

They fussed over the girls, bringing them coffee and juice. The big jacuzzi in the bathroom helped. They joined the exhausted pair in the bubbling water, soaping their bruised and tender bodies with expensive Jo Malone products. Once they had swathed the girls in fluffy bath robes they deemed it time to show them exactly what had happened to them.

Shahla wept and shook as she watched the video on the big screen. Their domestic surroundings made the scenes she was watching seem surreal. On the mantelpiece of the room were framed photos of both Ian and Karl with their wives on their wedding days. Yet these apparently happy and respectable married men had conspired to have her raped. Ian untied her robe and tried to slide his arms around her but she crawled, sobbing away.

Katrina was oddly silent. When she quietly left the room, Karl followed.

Ian said softly, "Shahla, why are you so upset?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "Why am I -? How can you even ask me that? Look at me!"

She let the robe drop from her shoulders. Her breasts were bruised, her eyes and lips swollen, her labia chafed and puffy.

He shrugged and pressed a button on his phone. She heard her voice say, breathy but quite clear:

I'd like to have my pussy eaten so I came over and over. After a while my clit would be so sensitive it almost hurt, but he wouldn't care. He'd just keep eating me and eating me...