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Archive name: sexcrime.txt
Authors name: Goldrush (goldrush@aussiemail.com.au)
Story title : My First Sex Crime

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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My First Sex Crime
by Goldrush (goldrush@aussiemail.com.au)

***

Two men dining in a restaurant, follow a beautiful 
woman to the toilets, where they proceed to enjoy a 
very memorable dessert. (MMF, rp, nc, v, ws, oral)

***

It was meant to be a quiet dinner with my agent, to 
discuss the delay in my handing over the next novel in 
the Inspector Gillespie series. I was aware that things 
were getting beyond a joke, and I was expecting him to 
be in a fairly sour mood.

But Patrick surprised me - and it was the first of 
several surprises I was to get that evening. He was in 
an expansive mood, and if anything he only loosened up 
and became more relaxed as the evening wore on. He 
insisted on dessert, and on liqueurs after that, and we 
were still sitting and talking at 11.30 - by which time 
we were the last people in the restaurant apart from a 
very beautiful young woman in the opposite corner to 
us, who had eaten alone.

I'd seen Patrick eyeing this woman up, which amused me 
because I knew what a lecherous bastard he could be - 
but I also knew that he was married, and that Carol 
kept him on something of a tight rein. To tell the 
truth, I'd stolen a few looks at her myself because she 
was pretty damn gorgeous. 

She was quite short - which I always like - and 
slightly built, but with big and impressive tits. She 
had long, straight blonde hair and the sort of slender 
face in which the eyes always look a lot bigger than 
they are. It was impossible to tell since she was 
sitting down, but I could imagine that she'd have a 
really slender waist but a biggish bum, too. She looked 
to be in her early twenties, and as far as I could tell 
she didn't spare us so much as a glance the whole 
evening.

"Look, it's the character," I confessed to Patrick. 
"I've written ten Gillespie novels, now. I've taken him 
through marriage, divorce, courtship, remarriage, 
kids... I can still write the murder investigations - 
they're piss easy. It just feels like there's nothing 
new to do with the character."

"That's because there's nothing new in your life," said 
Patrick, giving me an appraising look. "You're stuck in 
a rut, John. Admit it. You've been married to Trish for 
eight years, and I bet she's about as exciting in bed 
as an extra pillow, isn't she?"

I took umbrage at this, partly because it was true. 
Trish had been fairly passionate when we were engaged, 
but since we tied the knot eight years ago, our sex has 
been both infrequent and missionary.

"That's an offensive and personal remark," I told 
Patrick. "If it was anyone else saying that, I'd be out 
that door. Don't presume on our friendship, Patrick. 
And don't talk about Trish like that or this meal is 
over."

"All I mean," he pursued, less brusquely, "is that your 
sex life is probably a bit... samey at the moment. And 
since sex is the most important thing in life for men, 
if you're not enjoying sex you're not enjoying life."

"I am enjoying sex," I insisted. "You're the one who 
seems to be getting desperate."

He shook his head slowly and emphatically. "All men 
want it, John," he said. "All men want more of it than 
they can get. Has there ever been a time in your life 
when you can honestly say that you were getting 
enough?"

I considered this, and I had to admit - to myself, not 
to Patrick - that I was pretty damn horny a lot of the 
time these day. And that even when Trish and I were 
most passionately in love, I'd still have liked more 
bedroom time with her.

While I was mulling this over, the petite blonde got up 
and headed for the toilets. Patrick waited until she 
was out of sight and then he got up too.

"Come on," he said, and he led the way to the stairs. I 
was a bit slow to cotton on to what he wanted me to do, 
so I stayed seated for a few moments longer. At the 
head of the stairs he turned and beckoned me with a 
curt nod of his head. I followed him, puzzled.

In this restaurant (the Hirondelle, on Charing Cross 
Road) the toilets are downstairs in a sort of mini-
basement space that must once have been a storage area. 
We got to the small landing at the foot of the stairs, 
and Patrick turned to smile at me, happy that I'd bowed 
to his will and followed him down.

It was a fairly cramped space. There were just the two 
doors down here, for the ladies' and the gents' - the 
ladies' locked because it was currently occupied by the 
blonde. I heard her flush the chain and then I heard a 
tap turned and water splashing into a ceramic sink.

"What are we doing here?" I demanded, feeling foolish 
and disgruntled.

"Carrying on with the discussion," he said. "Watch." 
And before my astonished eyes Patrick took a large 
Swiss army penknife out of his pocket and unfolded the 
main blade.

At that moment the bolt slid back and the door of the 
ladies' toilet opened. The little blonde stepped out, 
to find Patrick directly blocking her path. "Excuse 
me," she murmured, about to push past us - and then she 
stopped dead as Patrick waved the knife in her face.

Her eyes went big and wide. She looked from the knife, 
to Patrick, to me. She opened her mouth to speak, but 
Patrick was quicker.

"If you scream," he said, "someone's bound to come. So 
you won't get raped. But I will cut your face wide 
open. Your choice."

I swear, if she'd pushed past us then and made a run 
for it, that would have been that. I don't believe that 
Patrick would have dared to attack her, with the 
waiters and kitchen staff only a few yards away. She 
could have got away clean.

But she hesitated, and Patrick shoved her roughly back 
into the toilet. Then he followed her inside, the knife 
pressed up against her cheek.

"Come on," he hissed.

Feeling like I was in a dream, I stepped into the 
toilet. Patrick groped for the bolt with his left hand 
and I heard it slide home.

We were locked in a ladies' toilet with a beautiful 
young woman. We were going to rape her.

I can tell myself that I was swept up in events and not 
thinking straight, but I was never in any doubt about 
that part of it. We were going to rape this lovely 
girl. And along with the guilt and unease that this 
thought brought was a wave of almost unbearable 
excitement. She was well worth raping.

"What's your name?" Patrick demanded.

"Amanda," the woman answered, her voice barely a 
whisper.

"Well it's your lucky night, Amanda," Patrick leered. 
"You were obviously hoping to get picked up and 
shagged. And you're getting it in stereo. Now take your 
clothes off, and let's see what you've got."

With trembling hands the little blonde started to undo 
the buttons on her blouse. But that wasn't quick enough 
for Patrick: gripping her lapels in both hands he 
ripped the blouse open from top to bottom, sending the 
buttons pinging away in all directions. Amanda 
flinched. "You can sew them back on again," Patrick 
consoled her. "Fuck, get a load of those tits."

He squeezed them through her bra, making her gasp. 
Then, waving the knife in her face again, he told her 
to take the bra off.

She really had a gorgeous pair of breasts: big but 
shapely, with large nipples and dark aureoles. Patrick 
immediately leant his head down and started licking on 
one, so I started in on the other. I couldn't resist. 
Amanda stood between us, awkward and penned in, as we 
slurped on her voluminous boobs and got ourselves 
turned on for the rape to come. At one point she yelped 
as Patrick went from licking to chewing on her nipple, 
but he silenced her with a warning poke of the knife to 
her tit, and got back to the feast.

Soon we were so aroused that we would have raped our 
mothers. We hauled off the rest of Amanda's clothes, 
and Patrick shoved her down on her knees between us. He 
unzipped his flies and pulled out his huge hard-on with 
some difficulty. I did the same.

"Suck us off," he ordered her. And with a pale, 
stricken face, Amanda applied her luscious lips to 
Patrick's rampant prong. He groaned as she licked and 
sucked him - the knife waving in her face inspiring her 
to sincere efforts. She obviously knew how to suck a 
cock, and I eagerly awaited my turn.

"You do this for your boyfriend?" Patrick asked her. 
She made an Mmm sound around his cock, which I took to 
mean yes.

"Lucky guy," said Patrick. "Is this as far as it goes, 
or does he hump your face? You know, does he like a bit 
of deep throat?"

Amanda couldn't respond, so Patrick supplied the answer 
himself.

"I bet he gets really carried away when you fellate 
him. I bet he's screwed your throat a few times. I know 
I would. Probably gets turned on when he hears you 
gag."

He was suiting the action to the word, thrusting deeper 
and deeper into Amanda's mouth so that now her gag 
reflex was triggered and she was making choking sounds 
on his big cock. Watching him abusing her face, 
watching her lovely tits swinging backwards and 
forwards with the rhythm of his thrusts, I knew that I 
was along for the duration here. I wanted my turn with 
this lovely girl, and I wanted to impose myself on her 
cruelly.

Finally Patrick pulled out of her mouth and I shoved my 
own cock between her lips with lustful urgency. She 
tried to lick my glans, but I wasn't interested in a 
regular blow job. I started to fuck her face, thrusting 
as deep as I could and being rewarded by a choking 
splutter from Amanda. I held her there for a moment or 
two with her head jammed against my crotch, savouring 
the feel of her velvet-smooth gullet on my overheated 
dick.

Trish had occasionally gone down on me, but it was 
strictly no thrusting, and only ever as a prelude to 
vaginal intercourse. This was going to be different. 
With bestial lust, I started to hump Amanda's beautiful 
face, cramming as much of my hard-on down her throat as 
I could get. She heaved and choked on it, but this was 
about my pleasure, not hers. And the desperate sounds 
she was making only added to that pleasure.

Patrick knelt and went back to chewing and biting her 
tit as I pillaged her mouth with my rampant hard-on. 
Jammed between us, on her knees, her head held 
awkwardly to one side as I clasped it between my hands 
and twisted it round for ease of penetration, the 
hapless girl endured a brutal double violation - but 
she hadn't seen anything yet.

After I'd throat-fucked her for a few minutes, panting 
and groaning with delight over her gurgles of protest, 
Patrick took another turn. He abused her face even more 
viciously than me, jamming her head against the toilet 
wall and humping into her throat with short but brutal 
thrusts, his balls up against her chin. 

"Dirty... bitch!" he grunted. "You fucking... love 
it... you whore! You eat spunk... for breakfast!" I 
couldn't resist. Since Patrick's furious assault on her 
mouth left her nether regions free, I knelt down and 
started to feel up her cunt. It was wet, amazingly 
enough - she couldn't be enjoying herself much, but her 
body had responded to a sexual situation by making 
cunt-juice. 

I put my head between her legs and sniffed. She smelled 
great, and I became even more aroused. I jammed two 
fingers up her twat and wiggled them around inside her. 
Nice and tight. I went to three fingers, then four, and 
she thrashed and squirmed but made no sound because her 
mouth and throat were full of Patrick's plunging dick.

At last he pulled out of her and she slumped, taking a 
few shuddering breaths. "Get up," Patrick ordered her 
sternly. "I'm going to fuck you up the snatch, you 
little cunthole bitch."

He hauled Amanda to her feet and bent her over the 
toilet bowl. Her cunt and arse were on display in all 
their glory, and my cock twitched. I'd never seen 
anything so beautiful in all my life.

Patrick crammed his shaft up her cunt in one deep 
thrust, and started in to screwing her. I went around 
to the head end and proffered my hard-on to her 
trembling, rocking face. She didn't open her mouth so I 
grabbed hold of her hair and shoved her face up against 
my straining phallus. "Open wide, Amanda," I ordered 
her. "I want some more kissy face."

Soon we were companionably raping her at both ends, 
accommodating to each other's rhythm so that we were 
both forcing our cocks into her at the same time, then 
both pulling out together, and she rocked between us, 
punch-drunk from the brutal humping.

We swapped ends, and I got my first try at Amanda's 
minge. It was fantastic - tight and warm and wet, 
squelching on my rock-hard dick as I mercilessly 
shafted her. Patrick was throat-fucking her again, and 
telling her that she loved it again in spite of the 
evidence of her tear-stained face and choking moans.
It was clear to me now that I couldn't hold back my 
orgasm for long. And I needed it to be in her mouth: 
the rape would be incomplete if I didn't make Amanda 
swallow my spunk. I wanted to watch her face as she 
gulped it down - my sexual slave, taking whatever I 
gave her like a docile whore.

Reluctantly, shuddering with pleasure, I pulled out of 
that tight, caressing twat-gash.

"I need to come," I blurted to Patrick. "Can I use her 
face?"

He grinned at me over Amanda's bent-over back.

"Hold it in," he advised me. "There's something else I 
want to try first."

We both pulled out of her. Pretty Amanda was starting 
to look the worse for wear - sweaty, dishevelled, her 
hair all over her face, her tits badly bruised from 
squeezing and chewing. She looked up at me with 
desperate eyes. "Please..." she whispered. 

Patrick grabbed her chin in his hand. "Shut the fuck 
up," he said, swinging her face round to face his. "If 
you say another word without my express orders, I'll 
slice off your nipples."

He came around in back of her, shoving her down over 
the toilet bowl again. His cock was slick with her 
spit. He positioned himself right behind her, pushing 
her legs apart, and he pressed his dick into her arse 
slit. I realised what he was going to do a moment 
before she did, but then I saw the flicker of awareness 
and dismay cross her pretty face.

"Oh no..." she said.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pushed her head down 
and skewered her mouth with my cock as Patrick started 
to shove his hard-on up her arse. Amanda shuddered and 
quaked, but we held her tight - my hands gripping her 
tits like a pair of vices, Patrick's on her hips. She 
couldn't move, couldn't get away, as Patrick's 
gigantic, tumescent cock slid slowly and inexorably up 
her bumhole.
I wasn't even thrusting now - if I was, I'd have come 
right there and then, and she'd probably have choked on 
my semen. I just watched in awe as Patrick inserted his 
entire length up her arse.

Then he started to bugger her.

Poor Amanda took it hard. It must have been the first 
time she'd been fucked up the arse, and I can only 
imagine what it must have felt like to have Patrick's 
massive manhood summarily shoved up into her guts. He 
was pretty well lubricated from shagging her twat, so 
at least he wasn't tearing her rectum up, but the sheer 
size and thickness of his shaft must have made the anal 
penetration an enormous and agonising shock.

I continued to hold her steady as Patrick sodomised her 
with deep, remorseless strokes. I was still gagging her 
with my cock, and although I was motionless Patrick's 
humping was driving her throat backwards and forwards 
on my shaft. Add to that the pleasant vibrations caused 
by her moans and gurgles of protest, and I soon found 
my climax approaching once again. I was forced to pull 
out, because now I was determined not to come until I'd 
also had a turn up her arse.

So I replaced my cock with my hand, and kept her quiet 
in a more conventional way while Patrick plumbed her 
anal depths. He was having the time of his life, 
gasping and grunting as he fucked her shapely rear with 
his giant prong. It occurred to me that it might be a 
first time for him too - and if it was, he was 
certainly making up for lost time.

Finally he pulled out of her and stepped back. No 
longer supported from behind, Amanda sagged like a rag 
doll and I lowered her to the floor of the toilet. She 
was gasping and sobbing, her hands clutched to her 
violated anus, her back arched in pain.

"That was fantastic," Patrick enthused.

"My turn," I said. "Get her on her feet again."

Amanda struggled as we pulled her upright. Her eyes 
rolled wildly and she even made a grab for the door, 
but Patrick fetched her a mighty slap on the side of 
her head and she went limp, dazed. We shoved her down, 
me behind her and him in front. He slammed his massive 
member into her face and down into her throat, bucking 
his hips to wedge it in her gullet. Her bum was right 
in front of my face, the puckered hole still gaping a 
little from the fucking it had already received. I 
lined up and pushed into it.

The feeling was indescribable. I suppose if I'm honest, 
her cunt was more comfortable. But just to be there - 
shoving my dick up a beautiful woman's bum, and knowing 
I could bugger her until I came - was the most 
incredible turn- on.
In fact I fucked her a lot more gingerly than Patrick 
had. I was still close to coming, and I didn't want 
this to end too soon.

I went in all the way, stayed there for a while and 
enjoyed the sensation as Patrick worked energetically 
at Amanda's face. Her struggles had lessened: I think 
she was still dazed from the slap and from the amazing 
punishment her bum had received. For whatever reason, 
there wasn't much fight left in her now.

Strangely, the more I thrust my cock up her arse the 
more my orgasm receded: it was such a different 
sensation from her cunt and her throat, and so much 
less familiar, that the sheer strangeness of it made me 
feel a little detached. I was soon able to fuck her 
more forcefully and more deeply without danger of 
coming, and Patrick and I once more fell into a 
forceful syncopated rhythm, happily violating our young 
girlfriend at both ends of her beautiful body.

I guess we'd been in the toilet for half an hour at 
this point, and we were both aware that the restaurant 
would be closing soon. We wouldn't have much more 
uninterrupted time with Amanda.

"I still want to come in her mouth," I told Patrick.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed. "Hey, I've got another idea. 
Watch this."


We both pulled out of Amanda again, and lowered her 
unresisting body to the floor. She gave a few weak 
sobs, slumped against the toilet bowl, spent and 
bedraggled and thoroughly abused. Patrick stepped over 
her and picked up the toilet brush from where it was 
standing in the corner. He gestured to me, and 
realising what he meant I positioned myself beside her 
head. Patrick nodded and I pulled Amanda up by her hair 
to shove my prick into her mouth and throat again. She 
gave a low moan, muffled by my cock.

Then Patrick knelt between her legs. I watched with 
eager excitement as he slid the end of the brush 
between her cunt lips. She felt it enter her. Her eyes 
widened and she tried to pull herself upright, but I 
held her firmly.

Patrick forced the length of the toilet brush up her 
vagina, slowly but with brutal, remorseless force.

Amanda choked and struggled on my cock. Overcome with 
lust I started to slam- fuck her face, forcing my 
engorged member down her throat as Patrick plunged the 
plastic brush in and out of her cunt slit.

I couldn't hold off any longer. With an indiscreet yell 
of delight I went over the top and hosed Amanda's 
tonsils with my cum. It was so intense it was almost 
painful - the most protracted and spectacular orgasm of 
my life. Then as my dick plopped out of her mouth 
Patrick was right there at my side, cramming his own 
turgid prong between her lips, groaning like a tortured 
soul as he raped her mouth. I could see the moment when 
he came. He shoved her face into his crotch, his cock 
embedded in her face balls-deep, her hands fluttering 
weakly as he pumped his load down her gullet. He was 
shuddering in pleasure, his back arched, his mouth wide 
open.

Finally he pulled out of her mouth and let got of her. 
Amanda slid down to the floor, almost unconscious. 
Spunk drooled from the corners of her raped mouth, hung 
from her chin in festive streamers.

"Fuck!" said Patrick explosively.

"Yeah," I agreed, awed and almost solemn. "Fuck."

We looked down at the beautiful woman slumped at our 
feet. Amanda, our rape toy, our bitch - used and spent 
and spunk-fed like a whore.

"Dirty cunt," said Patrick, sternly, and he gave her 
head a prod with the toe of his shoe. "This is what she 
wanted. This is what she came out for tonight."

I think that might have been overstating the case a 
little. Amanda might have been hoping to meet a new 
boyfriend tonight, but it was unlikely she was looking 
to get herself raped by two guys in a toilet.

We looked at each other.

"Time to go?" I suggested.

"Almost," said Patrick. And he took aim with his 
detumescing cock. With a perfect sense of occasion, he 
pissed all over our used-up girlfriend. I was taken 
aback at first, but soon joined him, happily hosing 
Amanda with my own urine. She tried to shield her face 
but Patrick slapped her hand away and we aimed most of 
our piss at her mouth and at her tits. It was a great 
way to end the rape.

After that Patrick told her to stay where she was for 
ten minutes after we left. I don't think she was 
capable of moving anyway, to be honest. We closed the 
door over behind us, leaving her sprawled on the floor 
in a puddle of our piss, with the toilet brush jammed 
hilt-deep in her cunt. We went back up to the 
restaurant, paid the bill (with cash, needless to say), 
and Patrick casually swiped Amanda's handbag as we 
walked out of the door.

There was a hundred and ten quid in it, so we got our 
supper - as well as our sex - for free.

It was a wonderful evening, and Amanda would always 
have a special place in my heart. I knew right then and 
there that my first sex crime would not be my last. 

END

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 28