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Jane looked around nervously as she approached the well worn door. She well knew the reason that she was there, and what was expected of her, after all, she had done the same thing several times before, but there was never any guarantee that the evening would go as her husband, John, required.
He had supervised her choice of outfit, it was always very predictable – the heels, stockings and suspenders, with no other underwear, were non negotiable – in Winter, she wore a smart overcoat, but on this pleasant September evening a light jacket over her short dress sufficed.
The landlord glanced at her as she entered the pub – he recognised her immediately, and well knew why she was there. He so wanted his turn. Several of the customers glanced up as she walked to the bar. Most were Asian and all were men, but no one greeted her, and they soon resumed their conversations, as they shuffled cards or studied their domino’s.
‘Half of lager please’, Jane said, as she climbed on a high bar stool, hoping to avoid ‘flashing’ her stockings. The landlord poured her drink, but refused payment. She knew what he wanted, but he was old, overweight, and ugly – a last resort perhaps, but nevertheless she thanked him, smiling, as he leered at her, knowingly.
John’s instructions had been clear, ‘come home fucked, I don’t care who, or how, just make sure you do it’. She had nodded, submissively, and asked ‘can I stay all night, or do you want me home as soon as I have done it’?
John thought for a few seconds before replying, ‘phone me as soon as he has finished with you, we can go from there’.
Jane knew what was behind this answer – if the man wanted more, and had a place (or, on one occasion, a friend), he would tell her to stay – on the other hand, if a married man had simply used her in his car, or sometimes, outside, before flipping her skirt back down, she would be told to make her excuses and get home, where her evening’s duties would continue.
These ‘games’, in their various forms had been going on for ten years, or so, starting with pick ups in nightclubs, or live events, when she was young and highly prized, followed by casual meetings in smart hotels, with well dressed young(ish), men, as she approached thirty. At this point, John had become more demanding – he wanted her used, not romanced, which led to new situations. Some of his ideas had failed spectacularly – she had been thrown out of a Travelodge, together with her building worker ‘friend’ when he had decided to whip fatih escort her before sex – the noise had been too much for the other guests, and she was left, in the pouring rain, begging John to collect her. She had been offered to truck drivers as they parked up in their sleeper cabs – never knowing who might lower the window as she stood there, half dressed, and available. One driver, much to Jane’s embarrassment had turned out to be female, which was not part of the plan. On a few occasions, John had instructed her to take a taxi, and offer the driver sex, they invariably took up her offer.
This ploy is what led her into meeting Asian men whenever she was ordered to find someone – they were discreet and did not want any kind of romantic involvement.
Tonight was one such night,
Jane lingered over her drink, glancing around in the hope that she would catch the eye of a young good looking man, but the ‘regulars’ all seemed too preoccupied, chatting with their friends and relatives. After some twenty minutes the landlord enquired – ‘another’? Jane nodded, and smiled at him.
He poured the drink before shouting over to a young man at the other side of the room, who immediately took up bar duties – he then left the bar, carrying Jane’s drink and jerked his head, indicating that she should follow him. Jane slid off her stool and walked behind him to a corner seat, which placed her out of direct view of the other customers. The landlord sat close beside her, and said ‘ you are Mamoods friend, aren’t you?’.
Jane’s heart lurched – she realised that Mamood, one of the taxi drivers, had almost certainly told the landlord of her availability. As if to confirm this suspicion, she felt a hand sliding along her thigh, over her stocking top, and between her legs.
Encountering her nakedness, the landord growled in a voice thick with lust, ‘I knew it’, in response to which, after quickly glancing around in order to make sure they were unobserved, Jane parted her legs slightly, to allow easier access. As he slowly masturbated her, and she began to respond, he asked ‘is it true that your husband likes you to go with other men?’
Jane nodded.
‘What does he like you to do?’
‘Anything they want’, whispered Jane, as she stared fixedly at the table, trying not to respond to the older mans’ ministrations..
‘Anal sex’?
‘If you want’ she breathed.
‘Oh Yes’, the landlord moaned ‘you are going to make me so happy çapa escort tonight. What time does he want you back’?
‘I will have to ask him – Ooh God’ Jane shuddered, as she climaxed on his probing and insistant hand. The landlord smirked at her – self satisfied and in control. His mind was racing, knowing what he needed to do, but, with a wife upstairs and so many eyes in the pub, how could he manage it? Finally, he seemed to make up his mind, ‘wait a couple of minutes then walk down the corridor to the Ladies, if anyone is around, just go to the Ladies and come back here – if it is quiet, walk past, and go through the next door to the cellar – I will have unlocked the door for you.
Jane nodded, eyes downcast, as the landlord stood up and returned to the bar. He appeared to give instructions to the barman, before reaching over and grabbing a set of keys, and a bar towel – carrying these items, he walked through the open rear door.
Jane sat nervously pondering whether to simply get up and leave – would John be satisfied that she had allowed an old man to touch her up in public, or would he demand that she offer full sex.
Of course, she already knew the answer, and slowly stood up and walked, slightly unsteadily, after the landlord.
The corridor was silent, as she took a deep breath, glanced over her shoulder, and tried the unmarked door. It yielded at once, and a hand pulled her inside, she heard the key turn as the landlord kissed her, his tounge obscenely thrust deep into her mouth. She could feel his body quivering with anticipation, and thought, bizarrely, of an over excited dog in one of her husband’s videos.
He broke off, uttering one word, – ‘strip’
Jane, sensing his urgency, did as she was told – first slipping off her coat, before pulling her dress over her head and placing both items over a pile of empty crates. She faced him wearing stockings, suspenders, and heels.
He looked at her, hungrily, before taking her hand, and leading her to a bench containing two or three metal beer casks, tilted at an angle. He led her to the space reserved for the fourth, and instructed her to bend over it.
She shivered in the cool air, as she obeyed, opening her legs just enough for sex. She heard him unfasten his belt and slide it from his trousers before placing the towel beside her head.
‘Be very quiet, bite on this if you need to’, he said.
Jane let out a whimper of fear – she well knew what güngören escort was coming next, but asked, ‘what are you going to do’?
He said, ‘just a few strokes before I have you, don’t make a noise, it will be over soon’
Jane nodded, before bending over, and biting on the beer stained towel – she heard the belt before she felt it, a whistling noise followed by a crack accross her bare buttocks, a split second of nothing, then an almighty pain stinging through her body. She moaned and shook her head as the second blow fell – she arched her back in order to somehow distance herself from the third lash, but it made no difference.
Jane spat out the towel and begged, ‘stop, stop, I will do anything you want, no more please’.
She let out a sigh of relief as she saw the belt being placed on the bench, while, with his free hand, her tormentor traced the line of welts, now beginning to redden. Jane remained quite still, occasionally uttering a small whimper, as he examined his work. Suddenly, she felt a cold liquid being poured around her sphincter before being rubbed into her anal passage – she heard him grunt as he let his trousers fall and lined her up for anal sex.
‘No noise, remember’, he said, as Jane nodded and, once again, bit the towel.
Two or three thrusts saw him bugger her to the hilt, before he began to frantically pump her – he suddenly stopped and leaned down,his mouth close to her ear ‘I am your pimp now, understand? I am going to sell you a lot, got it?’
Jane nodded, repeatedly, answering, ‘yes, yes, yes’, as he rode her to his climax.
As he slipped out, spent, she made to stand up, but he placed a hand on her shoulder and indicated that she remain.
‘Push it out’ he said, and Jane knew immediately what he wanted her to do. She pushed in an effort to evacuate the slimy mix from her bowels, and soon felt a trickle running down her leg.
He remained looking at her distended anus for a couple of minutes, before saying, ‘ok, I am finished now’, thus allowing Jane to reach for the towel and wipe the sticky mess from between her legs
She gingerly straightened up and replaced her dress and coat as the landlord pulled up his trousers before furtively checking the corridor.
‘Go to the Ladies, and then just walk out through the pub, don’t speak or look at me, ok’?
Jane nodded as he pushed her through the door, before locking up and re-entering the bar.
Jane used the Ladies to complete her clean up, and regain a little composure, before walking out the way that she had entered. Once again, one or two customers glanced up as she left, while the landlord, now back behind his bar, watched her carefully.
Jane was sore and the lashes stung, but she had done what her husband demanded, and she knew that he would love the twist at the end.