Dellas Dirty Secret
Della had finally had enough. She no longer lived but merely existed. In her late forties, she was far from past her sell by date but she could hardly suppress the panic and despair she felt at the thought that this was it, this is as good as life got.
She’d married young, to a then handsome man called Peter and for a while they’d been happy together, love’s young dream. Years passed, they had children, the children grew up and moved away and with it went the love and desire from their relationship. It seemed as if over night her husband had lost all virility, turning into an old man before her eyes. She was no spring chicken herself but she had always made the effort, tried to look good. But for what? Peter certainly wasn’t interested anymore. They didn’t even sleep in the same room these days let alone make love. It wasn't for want of trying on Della's part. She'd paid for several dirty weekends away for them both (Peter had either cried off blaming work commitments or had fallen asleep after too many drinks in the hotel bar), had spent hundreds on sexy lingerie and outfits to tease him out of his hermit's cave only to be brushed off and called an attention seeker. When she had suggested they see a therapist together he had flown into a rage and not spoken to her for days after. All these disastrous attempts at rekindling some sort of passion had left Della feeling severely deflated. She felt insanely hurt at first, then the hurt gave way to resentment. She felt unloved, unwanted, like a child who competes for attention only to be ignored or rebuffed.
Della felt like she was withering away, she may as well have turned celibate… Here she was in her sexual prime with no loving or attentive partner with whom to share her passion. Instead she spent hours locked in the bathroom, fucking herself like crazy with one of her growing collection of sex toys. Even this did not subdue her needs, if anything it stirred her up even more. There was another underlying fear she felt; overwhelming urges that threatened to boil over and spill out from her. Dark urges, utterly debauched and dirty, ones that she could never share with Peter. He would blanch every time she so much as tried to kiss him on the lips or grab his hand. He would freak out completely if she were to even hint at the perverse thoughts and desires she harboured.
So she went about her day to day drab existence, trying to block it all out until one day she caught sight of herself in the mirror and she knew it had to change.
It was one lonely afternoon, sat at the kitchen table, leafing through the local paper that she happened upon a discreet article in the small ads. She'd thought about calling an Escort agency but knew there was no way she could afford or justify the expense. Seeing the advert jerked her to attention. She had heard rumours, many years ago about a backstreet bar that was little more than a knocking shop where loose people went to pick up. As she read the advert she realised that her heartbeat had sped up at the very thought of going to such a place...a place where the darkest of her sexual needs could be met with no strings attached.
The club was a seedy dive on the outskirts of the city, a place she hoped she would never bump into anyone she knew. Nerves churned her stomach making her want to heave but, taking a deep breath she walked purposefully from where her taxi had dropped her and towards the club’s entrance; a dark dank doorway. The stench of sweat and stale cigarette smoke hit her as she braved a dark corridor, hearing loud music up ahead. “Now or never.” She told herself. She was here to find men. Not just 1 man but a group if she was lucky.
Standing rather conspicuously by the crumby bar, it wasn’t long before a tall, heavy-set man approached her, moving in on her like a predator, sniffing her as he did so. Della flinched, not sure if out of fear or excitement, as his beer saturated breath slapped her in the face. Despite her disgust she could not disguise the familiar pulse emanating from between her thighs. He wasted no time asking what it was she was looking for in such a club. She tells him in hushed tones and he looks at her for the briefest of moments before giving a nod, instructing her to go and wait outside at the back of the club. As he sloped off back into the shadows she turned swiftly on her heel, doing as she was told.
She found her way outside and gratefully stepped into the night air only to be met with another unpleasant odor of piss. Still she edged past upturned beer crates and debris and found a dark wet corner to wait in. The whole time she was battling with her urges and her conscience but before she had chance to back out she heard footsteps approaching her. Out of the shadows came dark figure after dark figure, at least eight men in all. They circled her, fencing her in like a caged animal. Without a word each man unzipped his flies and pulled out a cock, until she was confronted with a wall of dicks all of varying lengths and fatness. A few of them were slapped against her face, pushed into her hair and she could smell their unmistakable musky odours all around her.
“Don’t just look at them, suck them bitch.” Came the brusque order followed by another stinging slap across her cheek. Hesitantly she ventured forward, craning her neck but before she knew it a heavy hand grabbed her hair savagely, jerking her mouth onto one of the many cocks. The man began to fuck her face hard, forcing his member right into the back of her throat making her gag and heave on it. Strings of saliva oozed down his cock and he laughed mirthlessly as he fucked her some more. She was aware of the other men all around her, sensing their hands pumping on their cocks as they watched on. Again her head was pulled and another prick slammed into her face, thicker than the last. It felt like her lips were going to tear as the man crammed his entirety inside. The men were grunting and groaning as they watched and waited their turn to face fuck her mercilessly.
Some of the cocks tasted vile, unwashed and unkempt making her want to throw up but the need to have them violate her was too strong and she went through them all, each time feeling her mouth and throat pounded roughly until she thought she would pass out. “Yeah that’s it you whore, take it all.” groaned one man, “Deep throat me cunt.” Spat another. Della had no choice. All this time she felt her pussy spilling endless amounts of creamy juice out and over her thighs. Her clit was beyond hard and pleaded for her to touch it. Her hair was wet with sweat and spit and pre-cum, her makeup smeared all over her face.
Then the men eased off and stood in their circle Della on her knees in front of them on the hard stone floor. She couldn’t clearly see their faces in the dark but she could see them wanking their cocks faster now, hear their breathing becoming thick and fast. She could hold back no longer and sank all her fingers deep inside her sopping wet cunt, crying out with pain and pleasure as she did so, fucking herself hard watching the men intently and waiting for their cum.
It wasn’t long before one by one the men began to shoot great streams of hot cum all over her. Grunting above her they wanked and shook their spunk so it rained down soaking her hair, dribbling down her face and front, over her clothes. Feeling the copious jets of milky cum all over her was too much for Della and the force at which she orgasmed caused her to lose her balance and fall back. The men laughed at the stupid whore laying on the floor rolling around in filth and jizz before zipping themselves back up and without any further conversation they left her there returning to their beers.
Although totally defiled Della was utterly sated. Picking herself shakily up from the dirty concrete she did what she could to compose herself and hurriedly left the sleazy hole. She was grateful to catch a cab without having to wait at the curb, now self conscious at her bedraggled appearance. Finally she arrived back home. Quietly unlocking the back door she slipped inside taking care not to make any noise as she did so. Creeping up the stairs and into the bathroom she quickly showered, removing all trace of her cum-hungry slut alter ego. Then she tiptoed across the landing to her room, pausing at the door to the spare room where her husband lay in bed, snoring loudly and completely none-the-wiser.
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