‘It happened to me’ July 20??
written by:
Sexy Sadie

About the author: As will be noted from my Author profile, I have a background in DTP (DeskTop Publishing), and some while after I purchased my 1st PC I regularly contributed to an internet magazine.

My stories, in keeping with most adult magazines, will be submitted monthly and are presented as confession type stories, usually two or three at a time, and in a concise magazine style format although without the paragraph spacing associated with magazines, books and newspapers.

Alice's tale:

Alice fancied some of the dishy men who passed her desk at the West Country recording studio, and when she came across a struggling young band of London lads things started to go pop...

I work as a receptionist in a recording studio out west and though I get to meet all sorts of interesting people and know I am extremely lucky to have this job, sometimes the routine becomes a bit boring.

All sorts of people pass through the studio and sometimes the studio goes 24 hours a day. There is no paperwork to do at night but some musicians enjoy having an audience, however small, and inevitably I end up making tea. My boss does pay me overtime, though.

It was at one of these all-night sessions that I began to fantasise about the guitarist and singer of a London band that had been given cheap late-night rates in the B studio.

I decided I could contribute my bit to the proceedings, so to speak. The B room was once an ordinary living room and a flight of stairs ran up one side. A new wall was built and a picture window installed to let in as much light as possible. Anyone walking up the stairs would pass the window half-way up and stay in view of the studio until they reached the top.

At the top were some offices and the ‘crashing room', where exhausted drummers could grab an hour's rest. The crashing room overlooked our yard, and the studio director's wife had done a Laura Ashley on it. The old lace curtain was the only survivor of the print overkill. It looked more like a child's nursery than a rock band's rest room. It was the stairway and crashing room that would be my stage.

The band was hammering away - some ditty about Jimmy and Jane - and as it was four in the morning, I went to ‘retire' for a while. I knew quite well that my lower half could be clearly seen as I went up the stairs, so I wiggled like Lady Gaga as I did. Even then, my woolly tights were making my fanny warm and moist.

When I went into the room I switched on the light and left the door open. I knew that, from the studio, you could only see to knee or thigh height anyone in the crashing room - unless you pressed against the picture window and looked almost straight up.

The song came to an end and I knew this was my cue. I kicked off my boots and slipped my skirt down, leaving it around my ankles for 30 seconds or so, to make sure they knew I was undressing. Next I slipped off my tights, pausing again as my knickers fell. It was cold, so I kept my sweater on.

I switched off the overhead light and turned on the reading light, hoping for a seductive backlight. From the comer of my eye I checked the studio window and saw the drummer staring up intently. I blushed, or flushed, but felt a definite tingle. If this was going to be a good show, I had better get on with it.

The studio was quiet. Dawn was creeping up and I felt very turned on, as I always do in the morning. I knelt on a chair for a minute, parting the curtain to watch the dawn light outside. As I did so, I arched my back slightly and stuck my bum out. I knew from where they were the band would have a perfect rear view of my anus and pussy, which was now wet and glistening. Another sideways glance showed me they were all pressed against the glass.

I was perspiring between my breasts but my legs were freezing, so I began to rub them. I stepped down from the chair and rubbed one leg, bending again to show the boys. I rubbed my thigh and began to slow it down, turning it into a caress. It was cold but tingly and I could feel that tell-tale trickle on my quim.

In a second I was tracing the outline of my pussy, shuddering at the thought of my horny audience. There were still no sounds from the studio so I kept on, feeling flushes rise up my throat. I bent again and fingered myself more vigorously, parting my pussy lips to plunge inside and jolt against my clit. A burning filled my thighs and my knees buckled as I came in jerks.

This must have been more interesting than the last take, because I heard the studio door hiss open and light footsteps on the stairs. As I crouched on the floor I turned to see the singer, drummer and guitarist at the door, silently looking down on me.

The guitarist moved first. He stripped the top blanket from the bed and threw it over me, tucking in the corners. As he did so he stroked my thigh and bum, stopping at my dripping pussy. He stroked my lips and nudged my clit and my fanny opened right up in response. I rolled like a dog as he turned me onto my back. With a shock I saw the drummer with his cock out and the singer's fly bulging as he watched without a word. The guitarist said only, "Come on, baby."

I did. He was out of his trousers and into me like a flash. His hot legs felt so warm on my cold thighs, which must have turned him on because after only half a dozen back and forth movements I felt him stiffen and shoot his load into me - hot and long. I squeezed him with my legs and pulled up my sweater as he rubbed his face on my tits.

I was hot as hell now under the blanket. The guitarist was still kissing my tits and now the drummer was on his knees next to me, holding his cock up to my face. I turned and went down on him, sucking his big prick to the stump. It was very strong smelling and I gasped as he pumped harder. In a flash he was shooting too and his stinging hot spunk splashed onto my face when his cock accidentally slipped out.

The guitarist had pulled out by now but the singer still stood silently. The drummer settled in where the guitarist had been and he forced his half-up cock into my steaming crotch. There was so much juice he just flopped in and immediately began stroking deep and fast. I could feel everything but nothing, I felt the drummer's stick deep in my belly but the whole of my body was burning and loose. I ground into him so hard I burnt my bum on the carpet.

The drummer's prick seemed to burst in me and I twitched and thrashed as I came. The juice poured from my now gaping hole as the drummer slid out. I half opened my eyes and still the singer stood, silent. The guitarist leant against the bed and smiled, the drummer ran his hands through his hair and at last, the singer spoke.

"Come to bed, darling," was all he said. That was enough. He was by far the best looking, but at this stage nothing seemed to matter.

The singer was by now stark naked. He was tall and thin but not scrawny. His skin was potato white and I thought, ‘What he needs is some Cornish sun.' His cock, by contrast, was almost purple and a great circumcised knob bounced on the end. He said to the drummer, "Billy, help us, will you?"

The drummer rolled me onto my stomach and grabbed my ankles. He hoisted my legs in the air and at the same moment the singer's head went between my thighs. I groaned softly as he put his huge tongue to work, lapping, slurping and flicking until the juice dribbled down my back. His cock stabbed my back and it slipped on the juice. Fuck, I couldn't believe how open my pussy was, it just throbbed and opened and closed around the singer's tongue. In a moment I had gone again.

The singer didn't pause. The drummer dropped my legs and in another split second, the singer was inside me. His cock felt huge but rubbery as it glided in and out. We moved together slowly, but when he heard the slurping we made, he speeded up. He charged into my cunt harder, twisting as he did. I was soaked with sweat and we slipped over each other, rolling and tumbling as he stroked his cock up inside me. I whipped my legs up and down and gripped his back. I pulled my knees to my shoulders as he plunged into me, pausing for a second as the flood gates opened.

His spunk just gushed and gushed. He pulled half out and still it gushed, overflowing and sliding down my crack. The others didn't matter, this was what filled me. As I lay curled up, spunk seeping from my slit, the drummer and guitarist stepped quietly outside. The singer was dressed now. He paused at the door and turned to say one sentence. It was: "Nice number, baby."

Karen's confession:

In the space of one despondent evening, Karen of Merseyside changed from faithful wife to a lustful, wanton woman fascinated by the seedy side of life.

My husband works for a firm in the Middle East which can only offer its employees bachelor status accommodation, so for the last two and a half years our ‘married life' has been crammed into the fortnight's leave he gets every six months. But during this time I remained faithful to him, even though the opportunity, and sometimes the inclination, too, presented itself. Then the following happened.

Ray had sent me an e-mail to tell me he would be home on Friday, but he was not sure, as some of his colleagues had been talking of having a night out in Paris on the way. He told me which train he'd be on, and as I was sure he'd be on it I duly went off to the station to meet him.

I had an hour or so to wait before his train arrived, so I decided to have a snack and a drink. I went into a rather dingy, but reasonably clean pub by the station and I had the small back room to myself for a while, until two rather rough-looking men in their early twenties came in. I saw no harm in it though when they came across to my table and offered to keep me company, and I was soon telling them why I was there and we were chatting quite merrily.

When the time came to meet Ray's train, I said goodbye to them and made my way to the station. As the train pulled in I stood eagerly waiting by the barrier, but I was still standing there when the last passenger walked through. Ray had not turned up. A cloud of disappointment settled over me as I turned and walked despondently from the station, the tears welling up in my eyes.

I didn't know where I was walking, I only knew that I didn't want to go home to an empty house. Suddenly, I realised I was outside the pub again. I walked in automatically, seeking the companionship I had left there just a short while ago. The boys were surprised to see me again and were sympathetic when I told them why I'd returned. They set about trying to cheer me up, and they succeeded - until one of them made a remark which turned my self-pity to anger.

One of them said, "I wouldn't delay coming home if I had a gorgeous chick like you." Then the other one said, "He's probably picking up some French floosie about now to spend the night with her."

Once this seed was planted in my mind it started to grow, and I suppose it was this that triggered off the rest of the night's events.

One of them attempted to console me by saying, "I hope he gets nothing."

In an almost despondent fit, I replied, "I'm not worried about him getting nothing - what about me?"

A sudden silence descended and I blushed as I realised what I'd said. Then the silence was broken by a voice saying, "No need to worry, you can have all you want tonight."

I laughed and tried to pass it off as a joke, but the atmosphere had now changed.

When they realised my resolve was weakening, one of them said he knew of a place - a bit grimy, but very private. I did not agree straight away, but a few minutes later I allowed myself to be led from the pub and we turned into a side street that led to a row of squalid derelict houses behind the station. As one of the boys pushed aside a door panel and found the bolt, he explained that the empty houses were sometimes used by vagrants and the like.

Once inside, we made our way upstairs and pushed open the door to the ‘bedroom'. The boys lit matches, and as they did so a voice slurry with drink demanded to know who was there. I could dimly make out a figure across the room, and as I stared, one of the boys said to him, "Get out, old man, and don't come back for at least an hour." So, clutching his ragged clothes around him and muttering under his breath, the old man shuffled out of the house.

Feverish hands had already started to pluck at my clothing, and I gasped as my skirt was roughly pulled up and a hand began to rub between my thighs. I knew that this was not going to be love-making, but simply the satisfaction of my lust and my revenge on Ray.

By now my coat, blouse and bra were gone, and as my skirt and slip fell about my feet, I stepped out of them and was propelled towards the dirty mattress on the floor in the corner.

I lay down on the mattress and kicked off my shoes, and I shuddered as my naked skin came in contact with the grime-encrusted cover. One of the boys bent down and grasped my tights and panties, pulling them down over my hips and off my legs. My thighs were pushed apart and he lowered himself over me. I could feel his hard prick pressing my tender flesh as he probed for my opening, then suddenly he slid right in - and I was an adulteress for the first time.

It was as if his penetration finally dispelled any lingering doubts or misgivings I had, and as I surrendered myself willingly to him he quickly shot his spunk into me.

When they had both satisfied their initial lust they began to explore and play with my body until they were ready to fuck me again. This time each of them lasted longer than before, but I think that performing in front of each other must have had a dampening effect, since they showed no inventiveness, but were content to just lie between my thighs and pump away to a climax.

When they had satisfied themselves for the second time they began to get ready to leave, and one of them said, "Come on, get dressed, we're going."

I had a curious feeling. It was not revulsion, but I did not want these lads, who had known me so intimately, to watch me getting dressed. I reached for my slip and draped it over me to hide my breasts and cunt from their gaze. I told them to leave me there, so when they were ready, they left.

No doubt due to the drink, I drifted off to sleep on that old mattress. I woke sometime later to see, not one of the boys, but the old tramp we'd disturbed earlier on. He was kneeling beside me, staring at my naked body in the flickering light of the candle.

I could see him more clearly now, his long matted hair, dirty unshaven face and filthy overcoat tied with string. I lay as if mesmerised, unable to speak or move as his grimy hand reached out to fondle my breast.

Suddenly an overpowering, all-consuming lust took hold of me and I gave a little moan as my nipples sprang to attention like soldiers on parade. At this, the vagrant's hand began to trace a path down my body to my waiting cunt. My thighs were now parted and he shifted his position to kneel between them.

I raised my head and watched, fascinated, as he released the string holding his coat together and unfastened his trousers to slide them over his hips. He wore no underpants and his thrusting prick reared up at me as he lowered himself onto me. His rough, dirt-caked clothes rasped against my flesh as his prick found its way into my cunt.

He began to move again with long slow strokes, almost coming out of me each time. Then, as he plunged into me once more I started to thrash about beneath him as a powerful orgasm shook and rippled through my body. He was getting faster now, plunging deeper each time, pistoning back and forth like a powerful machine. Suddenly, he gripped my shoulders with his talon-like nails as he pulled himself hard against me and splattered his spunk against the flesh of my innermost parts.

He collapsed on top of me and I felt his dick soften as it slowly slipped out of me. He rolled off me, and I turned to see him wiping his slimy cock on my slip. Then I felt the material rasping on my tender flesh as he wiped me too. This piece of human flotsam had given me the best fuck I had had in my whole life.

Then he spoke for the first time, and his voice had a well-modulated ring to it. "You enjoyed that, didn't you, girlie?" he asked. "You must love to wallow in the dirt."

I nodded dumbly as I rose to find my clothes and get dressed. His eyes never left me as I pulled on my panties and tights, followed as quickly as I could manage by my other clothes. Then I hurried from the house, hailed a taxi and sped home.

Editor's note: Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent.