Experiencing 24 Hours left to Live

[JEMMA]

DISCLAIMER!

Here I share with you my collection of erotic stories which I find interesting. It can also be found in other Erotic sites.

The contents is 100℅ NOT from me, but just added some local Flavours & Erotic Images to enhance the story.[B]
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Joel McBabe sat in the armchair contemplating that fateful evening three weeks earlier that had turned his entire world upside down. Messages he dared not answer had stacked up on the telephone, flashing red alert, and he'd barely eaten in days. Sure, in 30 colourful years on earth he'd gotten into a few scrapes before, yet never as almighty a mess as this. Though he lived and breathed as any normal man, effectively Joel was dead.

Gambling had played a big part of his life in recent years, Texas Hold'em helping to supplement his meagre earnings as a barman. This time, however, he'd latched onto the wrong crowd, stepping outside his usual comfort zone. Of course, they allowed him to win the small early pots, reeling him in like a minnow, but inevitably as the stakes were raised quickly things got out of hand, way out of hand. So much so that there was no way Joel could ever repay the debt. And what made matters worse was that the money was owed to one of London's biggest psychos, Mickey Standup.

The first 'visit' had been painful, a bit of blood and a little bruising, but no more than a warning, the second put him in hospital, though sadly only for the night whilst the third and final 'visit' came just last night from Standup himself. This time the violence was psychological rather than physical, the bottom line that he had one day to raise four grand or Joel McBabe was history.

After one final sleepless night, the grim acceptance of his fate coupled with a feisty determination to make the most of this, his final day on earth, deferred a strange mellowness on Joel as he awoke. His final day on earth... A lump the size of a peach formed in his throat. His final day on earth... So, the question was just how to spend it? There were a few things he'd missed out upon in his short life, yet he'd had nothing like enough sex. Well now to make up for lost time, and how! An evil grin spread across his drawn features. Fuck 'em all, he thought, and to hell with the consequences...

Leaving the house early, Joel surveyed neighbour Cathy, a sexy divorcee 2 years his senior, on her driveway. About to embark upon on the school run, her two bratty kids were whining as ever. As Cathy bent to cram the youngsters into the car, a globular arse strained at her skirt, the hem riding up her thighs and prompting Joel to stop and stare. Bent double, Cathy's voluminous red hair tumbled over her face, shielding her from him. As she stood, the flaming mane licked at a pair of expansive breasts that seemed to defy gravity. A flick and it was back behind her shoulders, a hollow smile despatched in Joel's direction. He grinned inwardly, formulating nasty plans for later. Oh yes, he was enjoying this newfound freedom from morality. Firstly, however, Natalie needed to be taught a lesson.

A little about Natalie ~~~~~~~

Natalie had always reminded Joel of her namesake, the singer and actress Natalie Impo: the dark wavy hair, the doe eyed vulnerability and the kissable heart-shaped lips. College sweethearts, somehow they'd conspired to spend seven years together before his brother Pete stole her away. Heartbroken, Joel turned to gambling, trying to convince himself he could live without her. For Christ's sake, she was prim, a little staid at times and spectacularly uninventive in the sack, the queen of missionary. And blowjobs: only after a bellyful of alcohol and a lot of begging would she even consider going down there, and then it was as if she was being fed a vial of poison. Oh yeah, and there was definitely no swallowing.

Yet Joel never had properly gotten over her, the hurt exacerbated by the duplicity of his own flesh-and-blood. Actually he missed Natalie and despised his brother in equal proportion. And...and, had she not walked out on him in the first place, he'd never have turned to cards and not be in this impossible situation now. At least, that was how a mind warped by three weeks of sheer hell justified this wanton act of vengeance. Oh yeah, it was payback time all right, thanks to some pictures that had come into his possession a little while back.

It was Natalie that opened the door, skin like silk despite the hour and looking as good, if not better, as the day they'd first met. A petite five feet two with smallish breasts and the most gorgeous jet eyes, Natalie turned heads wherever she went. In fact, Joel had to concede that she and his older brother made a great-looking couple. Quite why she'd messed around behind Pete's back, God only knew. One thing was for sure: she'd live to regret the indiscretion. Suddenly Joel didn't feel quite so bad, enamoured with the sort of buzz he'd rarely experienced in years. Who said two wrongs didn't make a right?

Natalie's pretty features darkened when Joel was revealed on the step, grudgingly allowing him inside. Darting around in his boxer shorts, Pete issued a hasty greeting before heading to the downstairs shower. "Take care of Joel," Pete entreated in hollow tones from within, the order met with a thin smile from Natalie and an evil grin from Joel.

Dismissing the offer of a cup of coffee, hearing the shower crank into action Joel wasted no time getting down to business, speaking in revered tones: "You've been a naughty girl, Natalie."

Her look spoke for itself: "What the hell are you talking about?"

Joel raised an eyebrow, exuding the same confidence reserved for weaker opponents at the card table. And with Natalie he had the stone cold nuts. Removing the mobile phone from his pocket, he beckoned her over. Initially reluctant, a barked prompt forced her to take him seriously. "On my lap," he ordered, as more defiance clouded her black eyes. "SIT THE FUCK DOWN."

Natalie glanced over at the shower door as Joel reached to cradle the descending arse, her scent pleasing on the nostrils, her look one of sexy office chic: a sheer white shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt, stockings and clicky heels. Immediately Joel was filled with regret. He should never have let her go. Yet, perched uncomfortably on his knee she was like a stranger instead of the girl with whom he'd spent seven years.



A series of stills flashed before a pretty face that quickly showed a combination of shock and horror, reflected back from the small screen. A slideshow of compromising positions, she had little mitigation. "You've been a naughty girl, Natalie," Joel reiterated.

"What is it y-you w-want?" she stammered.

Joel grinned as Natalie glanced anxiously aside, the water still cascading from inside the shower. "To do what I should have done years ago," he replied simply. "Well, you know what happens to naughty girls..."

Uneasily she shifted in his lap, held in place by a firm arm around the middle, soft buttocks brushing his groin. He expected more fight from the once feisty little vixen, surprised when she said simply: "Get it over with quick, you freak. And do it before Pete catches us and punches your head in."



Without further prompting she rotated, belly pressed to his thighs, arse raising slightly, palms flat on the sofa one side, toes the other. Joel stroked the top of each thigh, between stocking tops and panties, fingers kneading the soft skin like a baker. Hand lingering on her arse, savouring the feel and sight, he ran a finger the length of the crack, pushing the panties in lightly. Giving a sigh of content, Joel hooked his thumbs through the waistband and slid the cream coloured undies to her knees. With a careful hand, so as not to crease, he rolled the tail of the silky shirt up her back exposing a curvaceous arse. Natalie's body tensed in anticipation, breath held tight, a pulse racing to a cock that rubbed hard against the canvas-like material of the jogging bottoms. Slowly his hand elevated from her buttocks, hovering at shoulder height.

Splash, splash, splash went the water. SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, went his palm. "Ow, ow, ow," went the girl, sucking in a mouthful of air and biting her bottom lip, a little pink handprint colouring her buttocks.



When the stinging had died, Joel issued a fresh volley of smacks, Natalie's body jerking in unison. Tears welled in her eyes, though as much for the humiliation as the pain. She could not, however, hide the treacherous dampness at her loins that dabbed at her ex's thighs as her body bucked with each smack. Joel smiled, experiencing a similar tingle of arousal, a blob of precum oozing from the eye of his throbbing bloodshot head.

Sadly there was little time to savour the experience and the spanking was foreshortened. A good beating from his brother on his final day on earth was not part of the agenda. Oh no, he had so much more nastiness in mind and other acts of depravity to impart before the end. "Now get on your knees," he ordered, dropping his joggers and taking the semi-flaccid cock in hand.

Natalie did so unquestioningly, kneeling before him, surveying the inflating cock with disdain as Joel stroked. Suddenly the shower flow ceased and she looked up pleadingly, doe-eyes appealing for clemency. Joel merely shook his head and gestured her closer. He knew damn well Pete needed to dry, to brush his teeth, to shave and to preen himself. There was PLENTY of time, plenty.

Natalie didn't seem to share the optimism, willing an early end to the ordeal before it had even begun, fingers reaching urgently for his cock, craning to bring it to her soft lips. Hot breath warmed the tip, eliciting another blob of precum. Christ, if only it had been this simple back in the days, Joel thought. The fact she detested the act merely made him harder and more aroused. Immediately those pouting lips clamped the head, an eager tongue flicking the eye and tasting the saline seed. "Oh yeah, that's it, baby," Joel moaned.

Natalie's tongue circled, finding the underside of the purple tip, as a cupped hand stroked the shaft back and forth, causing Joel's eyes to roll in pleasant surprise. The intervening years had served her well, producing a deft little cocksucker. Over and over the velveteen tongue worked, making Joel's lips purse and words of encouragement to spill from them. Natalie's acrid look did not escape his attention, prompting a further rush of precum to blend with her saliva as, from inside the shower, the sound of slapped flesh matched that in the living room. "If you don't get a move on he's gonna catch us," teased Joel, the idea of being caught a greater turn-on than he'd envisaged.

Reaching out, he stroked Natalie's hair lovingly, combing it through his fingers. Their eyes locked briefly and he smiled. At this rate he could go on forever, and Natalie realised it too, speeding up, supplementing the oral attention by fondling his balls, in a vain attempt to bring the climax closer. Joel's mouth formed an 'O' of appreciation, his breath staccato, yet his orgasm distant. In desperation, Natalie's mouth worked up and down the shaft at a rapid pace, face dipping and rising like a piston as she battled to make him cum before they were rumbled.



A spray of deodorant from the bathroom warned that Pete was mere moments away from exit, her saliva glands working overtime to keep the cock in her mouth lubricated and moving. Joel groaned, at last feeling the first itch in his balls and the approach of orgasm. Yet he held back defiantly, torturing the girl to extremes. Her face pleaded for an end to the ordeal that would only arrive with his ejaculation.

Wiling to do anything now, Natalie strained to recall what used to drive him over the edge when they were together, a glint of remembrance in her dark pupils. Letting the rock hard cock slip from her mouth, she guided her tongue the length of the shaft, over the balls and perineum, before pulling up at the entrance to his arse, tongue brushing the wisp of hairs. Joel groaned, fingers vice-like in her hair. "Oh yeah, baby," he breathed as she curled the tip and flicked at the puckered ring.

Natalie kept one eye on the shower door as her tongue pressed inside. An unexpected pleasure, the sensation drove Joel crazy. Round and round, in and out flicked her tongue as she jerked the hard cock with a hand, willing him to cum. Joel could hold on no longer, his balls aching, yet there was one final important indignity to impart before he was done. With Natalie's face vacuumed to his ring, his cock sliding through a cupped hand, he was badly positioned as the cum rushed from his bollocks. He literally had to lift her head by the hair to impale the mouth back on his cock before he came in a jet.

Natalie glanced anxiously aside, the handle on the door rotating, as wad upon wad of thick cream pumped into her mouth. Joel groaned, cock softening instantly and sliding down her chin. The door opposite opened and Natalie jumped up, cheeks inflated.



Joel's jogging bottoms were facile to tug up and were back in place before Pete glanced over from across the hall. Out of sight of her boyfriend, Natalie hopped about the room like it was covered by hot coals, wrestling with her panties and skirt, mouth still churning his cum, reluctant to swallow. This was some predicament: spit and risk discovery or swallow against her principles but dispose of the evidence. As Pete entered the living room, she had no option other than to gulp, cheekbones rising, eyes slanting, neck expanding in horror as Joel's spunk filled her belly.

"What was it you wanted?" Pete enquired of his brother.

Joel reached inside his pocket. "Oh yeah, that twenty quid I owe you."

"What twenty quid?"

Natalie was busily flicking her tongue around her lips, ensuring that no dribbled cum might betray her. "What twenty quid?" Pete repeated.

"Maybe I owe it Natalie," Joel teased, the words met with a glare.

Without further word, Pete snatched the note away, glancing over at his flustered girlfriend. "Are you alright? I'll just take this upstairs then we'll head off to work."

Natalie nodded silently, heart beating at her left breast. As Pete began to climb the stairs, Joel dropped his joggers once more, drawing back the foreskin to reveal a cumstained head. Natalie's face dropped. "You gotta finish the job," he grinned.

"No way," Natalie retorted.

Joel flashed the phone holding the evidence of her cheating. "DO IT."

Quickly Natalie dropped to her knees, sucking at the tip and vacuuming up the excess sperm. Her tongue made him semi-hard once more, yet the risk far outweighed the gain, besides which Joel's thoughts had turned elsewhere. 



"Happy now?" she glowered.

"Very," he responded with a sly grin.

And he was, in a perverse kind of way. "Here, you can keep the phone," he said, handing over the evidence, before placing his face in hers menacingly. "Don't fuck my brother around again, okay?"

Natalie bowed her head, nodding subserviently.

Joel followed the pair out of the house, his head a mess of mixed feelings. Whilst he didn't want to die in the prime of life, if Mickey Standup's death sentence made things like that possible, his inhibitions shot to pieces by hedonism, how much further could he go?

Back to the main story.........

There was the rest of the day to find out. And Joel intended to.

[NastyThaiboy]

I really like this story!         

setting up my tent here for more updates.

[Nymm]

Nice start, camping too!

[madpig88]

Thanks for sharing this story TS, look forward to your next updates.

[Cash8877]

keep on sharing this story TS, it's really nice.

[JEMMA]

It seemed only fitting that the condemned man should enjoy a hearty breakfast. A Full English with fried bread, generously buttered toast and a pot of tea, Joel McBabe tucked in with relish, his first square meal in days. Having come to terms with his fate, he was strangely relaxed, complacent even about impending death.

For death was certain. There was no messing about where Mickey Standup was concerned, no chance of a last minute reprieve from a guy that made Hannibal Licker look like a Sunday school teacher. An example would have to be made of Joel in order to maintain Standup's echelon in the gangland community, and more importantly as a deterrent to others.

Hopefully their familiarity and the fact it was only four grand might buy Joel a quick exit with the minimum of pain, a bullet in the back of the head perhaps. After that no doubt he'd be food for the fish in the Thames. Yeah, that would be preferable to the slow, painful torture Standup inflicted on some of those that crossed him.

And if anyone should know of Standup's brutality it was Joel, the formerly trusted employee within the empire. A barman in Standup's club in Whitechapel, he'd witnessed first hand the manner in which rivals and nuisances had been cruelly rubbed out.

An 18 month stint, a supposed stop gap until a proper job came along, the trouble was Joel liked the gangland life too much, albeit he existed on the fringes. He loved the secretive talk, the ever present threat of violence, the thrill of being in on something illicit and of how others in the outside world perceived him. It was a vicarious lifestyle he had enjoyed without actually having to get his hands dirty. But it had gotten him into trouble, serious trouble.

Joel had given the matter great thought in the past three weeks and had developed a theory that the rigged card game was part of a wider agenda. In fact, he was convinced of it.



Standup had two teenaged daughters, of whom Tiffany, the 18 year old, was the apple of her father's eye. A walking, talking Barbie doll, Standup doted on the girl, perhaps the only love allowed to permeate the shield of hate that surrounded him. It also gave rise to a bitter jealously, particularly since she had flirted with virtually every half decent looking barman since her sexuality blossomed. All had been warned off of course, but Joel had been more subtle, succeeding in arranging a hot date without Mickey knowing. In fact, one date was enough, given that she acted like a spoiled brat throughout. Since then, Joel had made it patently clear there would be no second date, as a consequence of which Tiffany had probably run off crying to her father, making up some crock of shit about him. The rest was history, the card debt merely a convenient means by which Standish could excuse his actions. Oh Tiffany, Tiffany, Tiffany, that bitch really had screwed up his life.

As he sat and gazed out of the window, watching the world go by in slow motion, Joel tried to interject some more pleasant thoughts: the episode with Natalie. He'd never felt so strong, so in control, so like Superman on a good day. Natalie had been putty in his hands, obeying his every whim. Just the thought got him rock hard once more.

An hour having elapsed in the greasy spoon, bringing the fatal day up to mid morning, almost subconsciously Joel found himself wandering back home, espying Cathy's car on the drive. A grin formed on his face as his mind staged a hasty dress rehearsal with the thirty something redhead in the lead role. Hovering at the gate, he inhaled heavily before striding purposefully down the path, his blood beginning to boil.

Cathy was the perfect subject for his frustrations, and wholly justified too. A history between the pair, most of it was bad. She'd moved in around a year ago and unthinkingly Joel had done his neighbourly best to be welcoming and polite, inviting her in for coffee and suggesting that, being new to the area, she might perhaps let him show her around. The offer was genuine without a hidden agenda yet Cathy mistook the bonhomie for some kind of unwanted pressure. Joel wouldn't have minded but he'd been doing HER the favour and had turned down girls in the club that made Cathy pale into comparison.

After that initial misunderstanding their relationship went rapidly downhill. If it wasn't her bratty kids kicking balls into his garden, trampling the flowers and smashing a window on one occasion, it was her mangy cat fouling the patio. Why the fuck couldn't it shit on her side of the fence? And if it wasn't the cat, it was her weed-infested garden making the neighbourhood look trashy and invading his garden, strangling the foliage. Joel even offered to clear it away but some sort of stupid pride prevented the woman from accepting his kind offer. How he soon grew to hate her with a passion.

And, why the hell did she swan around wearing next to nothing, flaunting her body and teasing him like crazy? Then there were the loud late night parties that seemed to go on for days just when he needed some sleep. His invite? No chance. Bitch. She forced him to lie in bed imagining her being fucked senseless, spit-roasted by two studs with cocks the size of marrows. At least that was what it sounded like from Joel's side of the partition wall.

Damn, she'd spoilt his mellow mood. It was time to do something about it, and to hell with the consequences. Ha ha, what consequences? He'd be dead before dawn. The premise made Joel laugh hysterically like an over zealous Bond villain. Knocking insistently at the door, then again harder, and when that failed to gain a response he pressed the bell repeatedly, become ever more agitated.

Finally the front door opened. Cathy looked hot and flush and not at all pleased to see him, though that was not uncommon. "Joel?"

"Another fuckin' pane of glass, Cathy," he spat. "35 quid the last one cost me."

Cathy seemed unable to comprehend, her mind elsewhere. "Well?" he prompted, face darkening. "Well? Say something, say sorry...or...for fuck's sake, Cathy..."

Caught off guard, Cathy was unprepared for his barging in, a vain attempt made to block him. Six inches shorter she was no match for the occasional body builder, albeit his once proud body was slightly emaciated by the recent fast, making him wiry like a whippet. "W-what are you d-doing?" she stammered.

"I've come to get what I'm owed."

"Don't go in there," she implored as Joel proceeded towards the kitchen.

Her laptop was open at 90 degrees. Joel's lips formed a devilish grin. Cathy, it seemed, had been viewing porn. Moreover, from the musky scent in the air, evidently she'd been masturbating too. Joel's grin lengthened, realising the position he found himself in. "Oh Cathy, Cathy, Cathy," he said softly. "Give me your fingers."



Cathy looked on, her head a mix of embarrassment and confusion. Defiantly her hands remained tight to her sides, the freckled tops of a pair of expansive breasts quivering gently. "Fingers, Cathy," Joel repeated.

"Joel, get the fuck out of my house now," she ordered, flicking back the thick mane of red hair. "Get out or I'm calling the police."

Making a swerve for the phone, she found Joel too agile, his hand slamming hers, crushing it and eliciting a yelp of pain. As Cathy made to retaliate, a fist raised, Joel caught the hand, holding it then drawing it to his mouth. Cathy stood, frozen like a statue as his lips enveloped the long middle digit, tasting the faint flavour of pussy. Suddenly the redhead gasped as his free hand made a hasty underarm arc, slamming roughly into her crotch and grabbing like a crane. He squeezed and kneaded at the light material of the skirt, as she edged back, trapped up against the kitchen unit like a cornered fox. Joel moved his hips between her legs, Cathy's arms falling back on the hard surface to support her weight. As he pushed into her crotch, Cathy's feet elevated from the ground.



Their eyes met, hers like a deer caught in the headlights, his as lifeless as an android, each grind of his cock causing it to twitch and inflate inside his joggers. Reaching down, Joel gripped the collar of her shirt. Several bottoms popped as he tore, the light material parting to reveal a heaving, lace clad bosom. The bra was a half cup push-up design, raising her breasts like two jellies, the lace so light the nipples seemed to mould into each cup. Engulfed by two enormously spread areolae, Joel swallowed hard. Cathy gasped in shock and distress, her eyes as wide as ping pong balls. "Joel, no...please..." she begged, shuffling back on her elbows, but going nowhere.

Joel sneered, helping the shredded shirt off her shoulders, their midriffs welded. As he craned forward to kiss her, instinctively Cathy put up her hands, unbalancing, her spine meeting the cool surface of the unit, legs kicking up horizontally. In a desperate attempt to flee, sharpened talons glanced off his cheek, drawing two tramlines of blood and prompting Joel to shake his head, features graven. "Oh dear, Cathy, now that wasn't clever," he whispered, the words spiced with menace.

The prone woman flinched as his hand rose, though Joel merely dabbed at his cheek, assessing the situation. Attempting to press his mouth to hers, her head turned to the side, their lips glancing. Again Joel voiced his displeasure in hushed, menacing tones. Tugging blindly at the top drawer, his groping hand fell upon a pair of scissors. Pressing the closed silver blades to Cathy's cheek, the mere threat did the trick, no verbalisation of the intent required. Righting her head and parting her lips, Cathy allowed his tongue to snake inside, finding hers. Joel took a firm grip at the reams of cascading red hair, their faces vacuumed.

Easing off, he felt saliva dribble down his chin, before burying his face at her neck, teeth scoring the soft skin. As she fought to steady her breathing, Cathy was thinking: he's my next door neighbour, there's no way he'll go through with this. He's just trying to frighten me.

At the same time, Joel was thinking: Yeah I may be her next door neighbour, but do I give a fuck? By the time the cops catch up with me I'll be long dead. The thought passed in a quick pulse from brain to groin, his cock harder than ever it had been, more so even than with Natalie earlier. This was one exhilarating headrush. "Take off your bra for me," he ordered.

Cathy paused, the scissors held up once more, prompting her to reach behind. Unhooking, the lacy garment, it loosened on the huge orbs, the tops of the areolae exposed. As the flimsy garment fell, exposing a pair of pendulous D-cup delights, Joel licked his lips.

Instinctively Cathy went to cover herself, eyes welling with salty tears. Joel smiled as he reached down and pushed both arms back to her sides holding them in place with an elbow and a raised knee as he cupped the underside of each fleshy orb. Joel moulded the tits into a hot-looking cleavage, each nipple popping out on stalks. Playfully he rubbed a palm across the divide, grazing the surface of each erect teat, before wrapping his lips around the right one. Sucking long and hard, he stretched the nipple with his bared teeth, causing Cathy's back to arch almost involuntarily.

Seemingly resigned to her fate, when Joel moved his knee back down Cathy's arms remained passively at her sides. He clawed at her crotch, gathering up a length of pleated skirt. Cathy groaned, her fingernails scraping the glazed surface, the heat of the day having caused her face to blush purple, sweat bubbling on the skin, red hair matted to her brow. The skirt up around her waist, Joel continued to prod at her sex through a pair of panties that was getting ever damper, an intoxicating aroma wafting up. "You want me to fuck you, don't you Cathy?"

She shook her head, in denial, the motion causing her tits to wobble like blancmange. "Yes you do, Cathy, you've always wanted me, haven't you Cathy?"

"Noooooooooooo." The cry tailed off as Joel dispatched the skirt to the kitchen floor, pooling at their feet and leaving just a pair of skimpy panties to cover Cathy's modesty.

Easing the joggers to his knees, Joel's cock prodded at her inner thigh as he jockeyed for position. Cathy closed her eyes, having seemingly given up the fight, no resistance as her panties were drawn aside and the tips of Joel's fingers scraped the brush of red hair. Joel moved in more snugly, cock replacing hand, her pussy squelching as the swollen tip dug into the moistness.

Cathy adjusted on the hard unit, parting her legs and pushing up her knees to allow the head to slip inside the moist snatch. Three months without a cock, she gasped at the intrusion. Inhaling a lungful, Joel slammed the shaft hard and mercilessly, splitting her pussy wide and banging her cervix. Cathy thrashed her head and whimpered.

"You've wanted me all along, haven't you, Cathy?"

"Noooooooo."



Joel retracted and slammed back harder, deeper if that were possible, burying to the base of the shaft, his balls crashing against her perineum. "That's for stringing me along all this time," he cried, his cock sticky with her juices as it came out for air.

"I'm sorrrrrrry," moaned Cathy.

Slam, it went back in, raising a fevered groan. "And that's for your fuckin' shitty kids trampling my flowerbed."

"Sorrrrrrry."

Another rock hard thrust brought a further shriek. "And that's for the little bastards breaking my window."

Cathy's apology was muffled in the expiration from her lips, a gush rushing around his shaft preceding a monumental orgasm, another violent stroke causing the climax to rip through her body. "God you make me so hot, Cathy," he panted. "I'm so damned close myself."

Through her groaning, Cathy appealed: "Don't cum in me please, Joel, I'm not on the pill."

As his stroking slowed to a leisurely pump, Joel thought about it. Why the fuck shouldn't he dump his wad inside her? The idea of leaving behind a legacy, preferably a son to avenge his murder, appealed no end. As he pushed his cock back and forth, a hands-free action, Cathy continued to plead over and over. Joel scratched his chin, a wicked thought rising. Out popped his rock hard cock and, in a show of balletic dexterity, he flipped her over onto her front, tits pressed to the surface and spilling out from the sides. At the same time her legs dangled down the unit, a fulsome arse wiggling. The engorged head ran up her perineum, depositing a snail-like trail, until the head nestled in the puckered ring of her arse. Suddenly Cathy realised the error. "Noooooooo, not my arse," she shrieked in genuine terror.



"Yes your arse," he retorted manically, backing up the words with hard actions, prising apart her wobbly buttocks with his fingers and forcing the head of his cock into that tightest of crevices.

Cathy squealed like a pig caught by the butcher before he was even part way in and, had he not been so hard, the clenched virgin arsehole would surely have repelled this most unwelcome of invasions. Yet nothing was going to stand in Joel's way as his meat cleaver ripped into the tight sinew and muscle. Each impaled inch drew a fresh squeal of pain from Cathy, the feeling of warmth from the recent orgasm having quickly subsided. Joel roared his appreciation as the tight tunnel strangled the descending shaft. He forced in the last two inches, shouting: "And that's for your cat shitting on my patio."

The apology that fell from her lips was inaudible, drowned in a scream. In and out of her ravaged arsehole he drilled, her breathing peppered with whimpers. Unluckily for Cathy, his earlier activity with Natalie had turned Joel into the marathon man. In and out his cock pistoned, Piak, Piak, Piak sounded his thighs against her buttocks, each stroke eliciting a more heightened reaction. "And that's for keeping me awake at night with your stupid parties."

Cathy's whimpers grew louder as her arse stretched to accommodate the huge tool. "You love having your arse fucked, don't you Cathy?"

A brief hesitation, finally she admitted: "Oh yes I do, Joel, yesssssss. That's it, fuck my tight little arse hard, Joel," she implored.

The words sent Joel over the edge. Yessssssss," he exhaled, exploding inside her with volcano-like climax, length after length of hot seed pumping up and into her bowels.

The sensation of spunk filling her up elicited another huge orgasm in Cathy and she wailed, banging her hands hard on the surface, a sticky pool on the kitchen surface between her legs. "Oh fuck Joel, yessssss."

Joel grinned. "Who needs porn, huh Cathy?" he mused, before drawing up the jogging bottoms and letting himself out.

[JEMMA]

After a refreshing shower, during which time he replayed the incident with Cathy over and over in his mind, necessitating a bout of hand relief, Joel sat down to decide what to do with this his last afternoon on earth. He'd gotten even first with Natalie and now Cathy and it was almost impossible to top the morning's events. His brain went into overdrive.



Hmm, no... Wait... Wait... A huge grin elevated his lips. No, he couldn't. Could he? His heart started to pump like an overactive generator. Fucking hell Joel, you twisted genius. It was brilliant, yet oh so risky. If he timed it badly, there'd be no easy death to savour, not for Joel a speedy bullet to the brain. Standup would likely have a gang of henchmen dismember him finger by finger, toe by toe, before beating him to within an inch of his sorry life with baseball bats and finally burning his genitalia with a blowtorch. The thought caused Joel to suck in the air dramatically.



Yet it was brilliant, ambitious and verging on crazy, as satisfying an act of vengeance as there could be. It was, after all, Tiffany Standup who'd gotten him into this predicament in the first place. The harvesting of her virginity along with the tortured discovery later by Standup was absolutely priceless and would send Joel McBabe to the grave a contented man.

He went to the kitchen and placed the sharpest kitchen knife in his pocket, already salivating over the thought of Tiffany's young curves. Oh he was going to make it a first time never to forget.

He just needed to get the right break. Yes, he had an idea how.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not much pix/gif to show....perhaps can check out the below (limited time available)

Here is a similar senario as the above story...

http://www.xvideos.com/video51923033...ome_uncensored

Enjoy......

[BK4ever]

this is a really nice story, thanks for sharing.

[Fatward]

pitching my tent here

[ThatsHappened]

Nice! Camping for more updates

[Ultimost]

Enjoying the story and videos

[sponge05]

Interesting story TS, will be great if you will continue sharing it.

[JEMMA]

Joel McCabe faced a dilemma on this his final day on earth. Having set himself the Herculean task of stealing the virginity of arch nemesis Mickey Standup's 18-year-old daughter Tiffany, somehow he had to get to her. It would be no simple task, for home to the luscious Barbie clone was one of the flats above her father's club. With the only access via a door inside the club, it was about as impregnable as Fort Knox to the unwelcome former barman. Thus, a cunning plan was needed to worm his way inside.



It occurred to Joel that Fridays were big money Hold'em days in the Standup Empire. Well, how could he forget 3 weeks earlier when a wave of ill-placed optimism had seen him lose not only his life savings but another $40,000 on top? Now if only he could get a game... Sadly, a minimum buy-in of $5000 all but priced out Joel. Yet, facing imminent death, he was on a suicide mission, prepared to do just about anything to wreak vengeance on Mickey and Tiffany Standup.

Joel really, really didn't want to part with the trusty VW Golf that had served him tirelessly over the past decade, certainly not for the paltry sum of $5000. It was worth double if not more. But, having received just the one firm offer so far, and with time running out, he was in no position to hold out for more. Besides which, reliable German road-holding didn't count for much where he was going. Within an hour the deal was done, the wad of crumpled notes in his clammy paw.

"A last throw of the dice, huh Joel?" observed Standup, theatrically checking his fifty grand Rolex as Joel joined the assembly of gangsters, drug dealers, chancers, henchmen and hangers-on.

Joel nodded silently, cheery in the knowledge that he knew something Mickey didn't. Though his heart was racing. This was by far the biggest gamble of his life, and it had nothing to do with money.

Three tables of ten, the format was simple: last man standing took the lot. With unlimited rebuys for the first hour, the pot was liable to swell to enough to buy Standup a new wristwatch. For Joel, however, the dream of starting a new life with the fifty grand, of Mickey Standup's willingness to extend his credit and an idealistic belief that he could outplay these lowlifes had been Joel's downfall back then. Three weeks ago seemed like a different lifetime.

This time, however, once the initial stake was lost there would be no credit line for Joel, no second chance. But then that wasn't why he was here. He had bigger fish to fry. Resigned to his fate, Joel intended to leave a big ugly mark on those that had made his life a misery.

An hour in to the game, his stack had dwindled to a handful of notes, any outside hope of playing himself out of trouble having rapidly diminished in the fog of grey smoke. Glancing up, his heart missed a beat as, through the haze, his eyes fell upon Tiffany Standup, fresh from the West End and weighted down with shopping bags. A peck on her father's cheek so as not to disturb his card playing, she retreated upstairs avoiding Joel's glare. He heaved a deep breath, steeling himself for what had to be done. 

When finally his luck at the table ran out, Joel issued his goodbyes. Engrossed in the game, no one paid any heed to the left turn, as he headed up the stairs, heart pounding violently. He could hear Tiffany the other side of the door, speaking on the telephone. Raising a fist, he took another huge breath and knocked. Tiffany's eye filled the spyhole. "Joel? What do you want?"

"Let me in, I need to speak."

"I can't, I'm going out soon."

"Just two minutes," he implored.

The door opened and Tiffany smiled thinly. There had been a time Joel believed she might have had genuine feelings for him and he for her. Those were heady times when the adrenaline and danger made his worthless life worthwhile. Another stupid pipe dream, the shallow brat had betrayed him, at the same time conferring this death sentence. Now all he felt was hate. "Well?" she pouted, dressed in a white tank top and pleated blue skirt from the finest Knightsbridge boutiques, her long blonde hair tied in a bow.



Hands on hips, a look of impatience filled her face. He made his move with ninja-like swiftness, twisting her round so that she faced away, a palm pressed to her mouth, the knife to her belly. As they shuffled along to the living room, his whispered warning in her ear not to struggle went unheeded.

It was as they entered the lounge that it occurred to Joel just how badly he'd misjudged the situation. Sitting on the couch with exasperated, fearful expressions were two other females Joel instantly recognised the pair as Mickey Standup's third wife Jackie and his older daughter Charlotte. Mouths fell open, all eyes his way as he wrestled Tiffany into an armchair, clasped tightly to his body. "Don't hurt her," cried Jackie instinctively.

A former pole dancer pushing forty, Jackie Standup had the figure of a younger woman, her breasts defying gravity and the intervening years. A bubbled-haired streetwise brunette, her eyes were large like a baby's. In a spangly tight pink shirt and jeans, she had been tending to the hair of Tiffany's older sister Charlotte prior to Joel's intrusion.



Sat across from Jackie on the couch, Charlotte Standup sported an armless, spaghetti-strapped turquoise top that stopped above the belly to reveal the obligatory navel piercing. In stark contrast to the other woman, Charlotte had a slender body, lacking cleavage, reminiscent of a schoolgirl. Her big highlighted hair was piled upon her head in readiness for a night on the town. Charlotte recognised Joel, her eyes slanting, though it was Jackie that spoke. "You've got some nerve."

Joel swallowed hard, assessing the situation. "Make a sound and I'll slit her throat," he warned, trying to convey an air of menace as Tiffany squirmed and wriggled in his lap, the blade held snugly to her throat.

"Let her go," reasoned Jackie. "Let her go and you can walk away no more said."

Joel didn't rate his chances. He'd be lucky to get past the front door. As Jackie made to rise from the couch, Joel ordered her to remain seated, his grip tightening at Tiffany's neck. "If it's money, you want..."

Joel shook his head over Tiffany's shoulder, the captive physically shaking. It wasn't about money.

"We'll do anything you say, just don't hurt her," offered Charlotte.

Joel contemplated the offer, salacious thoughts springing to mind. Maybe he could turn this adverse situation to an advantage. A 3-for-1 deal, his cock was throbbing with anticipation. "Anything, huh?" he mused. "Okay, I want you to start by taking off each other's clothes...slowly mind."

The pair looked at each other then at Joel, the blade remaining at Tiffany's throat. "No fucking about or she gets it. And believe me, I mean it."

There was a flicker of recognition in Jackie's huge Bambi eyes. Maybe she knew his fate. Maybe she realised he had absolutely nothing to lose. Certainly she was more compliant than he might have imagined, turning and inviting Charlotte closer. Charlotte hesitated, drawing a growl of displeasure from Joel's lips and a whimper from Tiffany as the blade tightened. It needed a prompt from the older woman to animate Charlotte. "Just do as he says, honey."



Gingerly Charlotte shuffled closer, Jackie inhaling as the younger woman's tremulous fingers reached out to pop the top button on the pink shirt. The sheer material stretched across the expansive breasts, drawing Joel's eyes. The second button opened to reveal the smooth tops of each breast. Joel heaved a deep sigh, his cock inflating to press at Tiffany's coccyx. 

The third button hinted at a white bra, a pair of buxom breasts straining at the lacy cups. Joel's breath came faster, his arousal prompting Tiffany to shuffle uncomfortably. As the fourth and final button opened, Jackie's breasts forced the shirt to part and expose her belly. Charlotte looked to Joel for direction, his gesture telling her to remove it completely, the shirt sliding down Jackie's long arms. She sat in just the lacy bra, boobs quivering. It was the older woman's turn to look to Joel for direction. "Now take hers off."



Charlotte lifted arms above her head, allowing Jackie to grip the sides of the turquoise armless top, hoisting it clear to reveal a thin, athletic and tanned body, noticeably lacking in curves. Both turned to face Joel in bras that contained breasts of such wildly differing dimensions. Joel savoured the sight and the immense feeling of power. "Okay, strip each other off," Joel prompted.

After a brief hesitation, broken by Tiffany's whimper as Joel twisted the blade, Charlotte swung her shoulders around, allowing Jackie to reach for the clasp. A pair of pert b-cups, finished with the perkiest pink nipples imaginable was unveiled and immediately Charlotte went to cover herself. A further squeeze upon her sister's throat and the resultant squeal, coupled with Joel's steely glance, prompted them back to her sides. Joel feasted for precious moments, his bulge once more brushing the small of Tiffany's back.

Jackie mirrored the younger girl's actions, turning her back, Charlotte's shaky fingers fumbling with the catch. The uncoupled bra rested momentarily upon Jackie's globular breasts, before slipping down in slow motion into her lap. Her breasts were a high d-cup that stood defiantly upon her chest, with no midlife plunge as Joel might have expected. Jackie it seemed had been utilising Mickey Standish's dirty money for a little cosmetic enhancement. "I want you to play with them, Charlotte," mouthed Joel.

Charlotte's eyes darted from Jackie's to Joel's to Tiffany's, the latter's wide with terror as the blade scored her throat. Firmly seated in Joel's lap, she was repeating under her breath. "I can't believe this is happening...I can't believe this is happening..."

Joel chuckled, bathy in the rosy glow of control. Oh how he was going to go out in style, and to hell with the consequences. His only regret was not being able to witness Mickey Standup's face when the scene was uncovered. "Oh it is happening," he whispered back in Tiffany's ear, prompting a volley of light whimpers from the girl. "Play with them, Charlotte," he prompted, head raised.

Across the room, tentatively Charlotte extended an arm, her fingers lightly touching the top of Jackie's right breast. "Stroke it," directed Joel.



Following the obligatory pause, Charlotte consented, her tiny digits trailing the expanse of spherical flesh to the soft nipple. A caress and the nipple inflated. "Pinch it," ordered Joel.

Charlotte clamped the tips of thumb and forefinger over the erect teat, squeezing gently. "Harder!" barked Joel.

Jackie gave a little nod of approval to the younger woman, sucking in air as the tightened fingers pinched and twisted. Charlotte moved her hand across mimicking the action on the left nipple. At the same time, Tiffany shifted in Joel's lap, and instinctively the hand around her waist started to stroke the toned belly through the white tank top. Held tight, Tiffany could do no more than shift side-to-side. Higher the hand progressed, finding the undersides of her breasts. Bra-less underneath the tank top, Joel ran a palm over the curved surface, grazing each attentive nipple. Tiffany fought to control her breathing. "Lift your arms," Joel whispered in her ear, then louder: "LIFT."

Tiffany consented, the blade momentarily leaving her neck as Joel tugged the tank top clear, the other two women's attention drawn to Tiffany's peach-shaped boobs that held the middle ground size-wise. Charlotte's fingers seemed almost subconsciously to squeeze more meaningfully at her stepmother's nipple, a stifled gasp betraying Jackie. His ultimate fantasy, Joel's cock was so hard it chafed on his trousers.

Tiffany gasped too as Joel's free hand found her newly exposed breasts, cupping each in turn, kneading and pinching. They felt good in his hands, so fresh and young. "Change around," ordered Joel to the pair opposite. "I want to see you do that to Charlotte, Jackie."

Charlotte's arms dropped automatically to her sides as Jackie reached in to cradle each tiny breast. Concentrating on the perky nipples, minimal stimulation was required to prompt a treacherous moan of appreciation from the younger woman. "You want her to suck them, don't you Charlotte?" grinned Joel.

Charlotte shook her head in defiance. "Do it, Jackie," he boomed.

Jackie hesitated, glancing over to see the knife had been lowered to caress Tiffany's left breast, the blade teasing the nipple. "Please God, no," Tiffany begged, her throat clenched. "Do as he says..."

Having appraised the severity of the threat, Jackie obeyed, bending into Charlotte's lean body, her tongue extended beneath the erect teat. A lash of the tongue and the nipple was coated in saliva. Puckering, Jackie's lips closed in. She sucked long and hard, causing Charlotte to dig her teeth in her bottom lip. Looking up, Charlotte saw Joel grinning over, quickly allowing her face to cloud over once more. "Put more effort in, Jackie," sounded Joel, the prompt causing Jackie to glare but nonetheless press her face in harder.



At the same time, Joel wet his fingers on his tongue, reaching around to roll Tiffany's hard nipples between thumb and forefinger. She wriggled uncomfortably in his lap, each movement forcing Joel's stiff cock into her crevice of her arse. Sinking his teeth in her soft neck, she shied away, before the blade forced her back into position. "Run your fingers through Jackie's hair," Joel directed Charlotte. "Then I want to see you suck Jackie's tits."

With a look of hatred in her eyes, Charlotte stroked the older woman's brunette curls, fingers vibrating when Jackie's tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. Jackie flung back her head, a further glare at Joel before she allowed Charlotte to press her lips to her huge orbs. Charlotte tried to copy Jackie's actions, this being her first time with another woman and highly uncomfortable for her.

After a minute or so, Joel ordered a cessation. "Don't they look so good together, Tiffany? Mmmmmmm. Charlotte, stand up. Jackie, stay put."

Cleaning the saliva from her lips with a soft tongue, Charlotte did as ordered. Rising, her arms were folded across her breasts. "Move closer, Charlotte. Tiffany, I want you to take down her jeans," mouthed Joel over his captive's shoulder.

As Charlotte edged in, Tiffany's fingers reached for the belt at her sister's waist, sliding it through its holds. Joel took charge of the discarded length of leather, his brain flooding with nasty ideas, watching as the buttons at Charlotte's crotch popped open. The jeans were so tight that, despite wrinkling a little at each thigh, they remained more or less in place. "Pull them down," he ordered Tiffany.

Tiffany tugged and the denims eased down in a concertina at Charlotte's knees. They fell the remaining two feet, crumpling at her ankles to reveal a pair of angular legs. Joel's eyes, however, were transfixed to her groin, covered in a skimpy blue thong. The feint outline of Charlotte's pussy lips was visible, whilst an unmistakable dot of arousal at the crotch betrayed her nonchalance. "Take off her thong," suggested Joel matter-of-fact to his charge.

Tiffany baulked at the thought of touching her sister in that most private of places. Voicing his disapproval, Joel shifted, the knife providing the requisite encouragement to Tiffany to hook her thumbs through the side strings. Tugging sharply, Charlotte's cleanly shaven pussy was exposed. Pink, plump and glistening lightly, Joel smacked his lips in appreciation. "Now turn around," he ordered Charlotte. "Bend over and hold onto your ankles."

Charlotte did as instructed, an exchanged glance with Jackie who looked back sympathetically. Charlotte's tight arse mere a foot away, those plump pussy lips peeped back through her thighs as a hint of female arousal clung unmistakeably to the air beneath Joel's nostrils. Tiffany shifted uncomfortably, trying not to look at her sister's buttocks.

Suddenly Joel raised his free hand. Tiffany and Jackie could both see that it gripped Charlotte's belt, their eyes widening. The trio of backhand swipes took Charlotte by complete surprise, the leather stinging numbly. Fortunately for the girl, with Tiffany on his lap, Joel had been unable to gain much leverage, three feint pink lines running from cheek to cheek. Moreover, he had spared her the buckled end – for now. Nonetheless, Charlotte shrieked, as much in surprise as pain. "That's a warning, okay? If any of you steps out of line or disobeys me, it's the buckle end, and I won't fuckin' hold back. Understand? UNDERSTAND?"

Each woman acknowledged with a nod and a grunt. Jackie stood, appealing. "Leave these two innocent girls alone, take me, do anything you want..."

"Shut the fuck up," barked Joel. "Now turn around sideways," he directed, Charlotte shuffling around, the jeans still at her ankles. "Jackie, I think Charlotte could do with some pain relief. Get down on your knees behind her."

Jackie glowered over, defiantly staying put. She had decided this had gone too far.

"Now what the fuck did I just say?" Joel boomed.

Losing his temper, Joel lashed out with the belt. This time the buckle end bit into Charlotte's soft butt cheeks. She cried out in sheer pain. "Do as he says, please Jackie," she begged in between bouts of sucked-in air, a series of red welts materialising on the cheeks.

Jackie stood to take up a position at Charlotte's rear, staring into the younger woman's pussy. "God, you're sick," spat Tiffany, wriggling in his lap. "You're never going to get away with this, you know."

Joel smiled inwardly, knowingly. Little did she realise how little he cared. His own small inevitable death was worth this humiliation, the battle lost but the war won. "Enjoy the show," he whispered in Tiffany's ear. "I know I will."

Jackie looked over, awaiting instruction. "I want to see you eat that hot pussy," breathed Joel.

The clock on the wall told him that there were two hours left of his life, two hours to make these women pay for their association with that evil bastard, Mickey Standup. Two hours. Conceivably this could be the best 2 hours ever in Joel McBabe's life. 
~~~~~~~~~~~
Video Live Cast
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[JJMagic]

love this story! sure hoping there will be much more.

[ThatsHappened]

Nice story and sexy babes too!