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Subject: {ASSM} Working Mum Piss Whore: 1 {Emily van Haankden} (F+M+ ws)
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<1st attachment, "WorkingMumPissWhore1.txt" begin>

This is a work of ADULT fiction. It is contains highly graphic
depictions of extreme sexual behaviour. It is not suitable for
children under the age of 18.
---------------------------------------------

Story Codes: F+ M+ ws

Working Mum Piss Whore: 1
---------------------------------------------
by Emily
Web | http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ESF/www
FTP | http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ESF/
---------------------------------------------

We drove up in two people movers. It felt like a school trip. A
sort of suppressed excitement about what was going to happen. The
guys were polite. Big smiles and a slightly shy 'Hi' at being
introduced.

I decided not to mingle. I can get a bit car sick and I'm not at
my best, so I sat up behind Lindsey, who was driving, next to
Jenica. Lindsey's hubby - Patrick - and a couple of his business
buddies, Gareth and Bill, beered themselves in the back.

My Robert drove the other one, with Marika and Agneta, with
Patrick's other guests, Adam, Chris (Christian - an diffident
chap with a nervous twitch) and Scott.

We behaved going up the motorway - except for mooning at Robert's
van as we bottled past.

It was a good vibe. The boys talked a bit of business. Made a few
phone calls. Drank beer.

I dug out Jenica's life story -- born on a farm a couple of
kilometres from the Hungarian border in Transylvania. No, it
really is a place. Fancy that. The baby of two sisters (snap!),
traveled around the world (double snap!), trained as a nursery
teacher (triple-snap), worked in Canada to improve her English ,
came over here, teamed up with boho types, did drugs, modeling,
dancing, and now this, thinking of going back to home, to marry
and have a family.

I was like "Mother Whore" of the group. So I was saying how it
wasn't going to be like a normal session, where you had to keep
open and sensitive to the whole group and what was going on.
There were too many people for too long, and you had to let go -
you had to just let them get on with it, be yourself, focus on
what you were doing, and not take responsibility for everyone's
fun (Robert would see to that).

Jenica was a big hit, her Romanian accent (with the odd
unexpected Canadian pronunciation thrown in to keep you off
balance) being very sexy. Not to mention her big boobs, her
flawless complexion, and child-like smile. Sometimes you just
have to be graceful and accept that younger women hold almost all
the aces. It's just how it is.

The barn conversion we turned into was old, in a very mannered
way. It was quite large - with six bedrooms for the guys - less
Robert, who had a room above the stables with us five girls
sharing a couple of bedrooms for our stuff - Lindsey and I shared
one, and Marika, Agneta and Jenica squeezed into the other one.

I did wonder about the ratio of boys to girls, 6:5 (7 if Robert
was going to take part). But Robert said the whole weekend was
costing Patrick's company a large chunk of it's "entertainment"
budget, and more girls meant a bigger place and more expense. And
we weren't meant to be pairing off. Besides, five girls = fifteen
wholes, divided by six or seven cocks = plenty of fun.

Robert made sure everything was smooth behind the scenes. Lindsey
was the hostess with our guests, as she'd met several of them
before at Patrick company socials. She gently guided them through
the various stages of entertainment, and the four of us girls did
as we were told.

We scampered round the house, exploring, nosing, seeing who had
gone where. The deco was wood, or maybe I should say "WOOD". Wood
paneling, wood floors, wood ceilings with wood beams. the bits
that weren't wood were lace. This place had little lace doilies
that the ornaments stood on, and great lace canopies stretching
over the four poster beds. It was a dolls house, brought up to
life-size scale. Twee. Pretentious. Quite horrid and Shirley
Temple. The guys thought it was charming.

Still, it wasn't uncomfortable if you didn't mind an attack of
the frilly. At least it sort of went with some of the underwear
we'd bought down at Harvey Nics.



Lindsey stood by the fireplace, every bit the elegant madam, and
explained the rules to the guys. All the girls - she paused for a
moment a looked down modestly to underline all - all the girls
would be available for a wide variety of erotic adventures. The
theme for the weekend was going wild in the wilderness. So if
they had a deep seated desire to explore a privately-held
perverted fetish, now's your big chance. Or if you're just
curious, and would like a demonstration, it could be arranged.

She walked over to Jenica, and with the lightest touch under the
elbow, got her to stand up and guided her to turn around. "So
if", she continued, "you fancy a piece of this pretty arse". She
gave Jenica's bum a firm slap. "You just have to ask me. I'll
organise it."

The guys were grinning nervous smiles.

"Or perhaps you'd like to see Marika and Agneta here chew each
other out."

The dirty words raised the temperature of the room. "Just ask
me".

"Or maybe you'd want something a bit stronger ..."

The guys were squirming in their chairs, holding up beer bottles
and shouting "yeah! yeah! stronger is good!"

Lindsey glided passed me, running her hand under my chin and
lifting my head up slightly, saying, "perhaps you'd like to see
me piss in Kate's posh mouth."

"WOOOooha!" went the cries of delighted surprise. I felt myself
blush. A great big bright pink blush that went with the frilly
decor.

Lindsey had put a perverted stake in the ground, and I was that
pinnacle of degradation. "This and other things, they can all be
arranged for your pleasure. So don't be shy, come and speak to
me. I'm sure most things are possible."

She looked each guy squarely in the eye. "if you never thought
you'd get to act out your deepest darkest fantasies, now is the
time to admit to them".

I felt an arm slide round my waist. It was Lindsey's husband. I
rather welcomed it, he was willing to take ownership of me after
what Lindsey had just said to a bunch of strangers. I know you're
not meant to have feelings as a whore - just be a fuck machine
with attitude - but normal whoring isn't quite so public, and
usually you're more in control.

Patrick stood up and had a quick chat to Lindsey before taking my
hand and leading me out the room to the chants of "hey Paddy, you
gonna piss that bitch?" Patrick grinned a big cheesy grin.

I hadn't realised how embarrassed I was until I felt the flood of
relief of being away from staring, slightly amazed, male eyes.

Patrick, his hand resting lightly on my bum, guided me to his
room. I let him kiss me. I'm quite fond of Patrick really.
Although he's only an acquaintance: a husband of a friend of my
sister's. But he'd always carried himself with a certain handsome
charm. He never plays the African warrior, even if the slant of
his accent and the blackness of his skin would easily let him.

Patrick fumbled with my bra - mainly because I was wearing a
white lycra teddy that you have to step into and shimmy up like a
one-piece swimming costume. He mumbled in my ear how very very
fine I am. How the guys would all rate him for taking me first.
How the guys would have been blown away at the idea of actually
meeting someone who did things they'd only seen on gonzo porn
DVDs. How I was like some porn queen superstar, and how lucky he
was to be my friend.

Only this weekend he was friend and paying punter, I thought to
myself.

Still, it's always good make the punters like and respect you. So
I told him, shimmying out of my teddy, that I was grateful he'd
taken me out from the crowd. How I felt quite shy being announced
as a piss slut out in the open like that. How naughty it was for
his wife to be so almost cold and humiliating. It's one thing
when you're with someone your attracted to, someone you're all
jazzed up with, hot for them, to confess your deepest sexual
pleasures. But quite another to have your sexual perversions
discussed in the same way as someone mentions that, "Oh, and Kate
likes to play tennis" or something.

I stepped into the bath tub, and sat, folding my legs under me.
Patrick fished his cock out from his chinos.

We stopped chatting for a minute, and became some sort of fetish
tableaux, entitled: 'petty naked blonde girl waits to be urinated
on'. Patrick often has to summon up his pee from deep somewhere
or other. He raised his head to the ceiling, let out a long sigh,
and a pathetic dribble of pee dribbled from the end of his cock -
not even reaching the side of the bath. I leaned right over to
place my mouth in the way of the fragile stream of piss.

He pissed so slowly, it was easy to fill up my mouth and swallow.
Patrick watched me swallow, still weeing on my momentarily closed
lips. His quite yellow urine contrasting against my slutty cherry
red lipstick.

I opened my mouth again, only to find Patrick had stopped
pissing. I looked up at him. He was concentrating hard. Suddenly
my face was slapped by a wall of piss water fired at high
velocity. Involuntarily I snapped my head back, screwing up my
eyes and half giggling, half choke/coughing at the sudden
unexpected flood. "Not in my eyes!" I squealed as Patrick's
thundering piss drummed against my face.

Blindly I reached forward and took Patrick's urinating cock in my
hand. I could feel his cock tremble in my hand as the piss gushed
out. I steered his cock off my face - so I could take a breath -
down over my tits. My whole front was gleaming wet as hot piss
drenched down my body and collected in a little yellow lake
around my ankles.

I opened my eyes again, only to see Scott standing next to
Patrick, undoing his trousers. "Fuck man, she's some hot dirty
bitch!"

"Yeah" agreed Patrick. "You know Robert's her ole man"

"Fuck Noooooo!" Scott exclaimed, "And he's OK with this?
Fuuuuuck, lucky bastard".

They say some guys can get all funny peeing in front of other
guys. Like there's some weird psychology about which urinal you
stand at in public toilets. Which is funny, as girls are meant to
always go in private, but never have trouble sharing cubicles
(because there never ever are enough women's toilets). Well Scott
wasn't one of those guys.

As Patrick's pee was leveling off, his cock kind of tingling in
between my fingers as he peed over my gleaming tits, so Scott
began a steady relaxed piss up and down the side of my face, down
the back of my blonde hair, which was darkening as he wet it,
clumping into long thin strands. I would feel the warmth of hot
piss flowing down my neck and over my bare shoulders. It was very
comfortable. Nice.

My breath caught, I steered Patrick's piss back into my mouth.
But as it weakened I had to lean further forward to get the
bubbling pee into my gapping mouth. Eventually I had to lean so
far forward, I was bracing myself against the side of the bath to
stop myself falling over (and Patrick was pushing his hips
forward as much as he could), till his cock was in my mouth.

That felt good too. I'd felt a bit out of it in the big group, a
bit shy ... not a familiar emotion. Maybe I'm under practiced in
starting orgies off from cold, or maybe it was just a funny day
for me - I wasn't in 'the zone'. But here, kneeling in a bath,
wet from piss, sucking a guy's cock while his friend continues to
piss down the side of my face and body - with the odd splash over
his mate's cock, this was it: hot nasty kinky sex, me as the
subject, the object, the trigger, at the centre of these guys
getting totally off on me. And if you want to know why I do it,
it's because of moments like this.

OK, sure, the money's good and easy. But I don't need it. My
Robert makes a packet in from his business, even if we blow a
fair bit of that on a good life style. But I use the money I get
off Robert as flash money down at the expensive shops. The money
says, 'we mean it, and we're willing to pay for it'. But it's not
the thing. Not for me. The other girls need it, it's their job,
but i'm like a semi-professional. I think they resent that a bit
about me. But it's their issue.

For me, in some rented house with a couple of semi-strangers,
allowing our inhibitions drop and letting us indulge in our
favourite fetishes without guilt, without judgment, without issue
- and I'm like the magic key in all this, the cool bitch who's
strong and dirty enough to take it, and like it. Wow, for me,
that's a really intense rush.

I closed my eyes and focused on sucking off Patrick's cock,
trying not to flinch whenever Scott's piss tried to piss up my
nose, or splashed over my eyes. It's kind of zen like - you have
to accept your face is being washed with a hose of piss, you have
to accept you have no control over it, like you don't know how
long it'll go on for.

Well, OK, what do I know about zen, but it's what I imagine being
in a zen-like state is: I am the total cock-sucker, I am the
total piss whore. You don't have to think about it, you just are
it.

Well that's my excuse for not immediately noticing Lindsey had
joined our little party.

"So this is where you're hiding," Lindsey snorted, "I think we
need to make you more available."

She fastened a black collar round my neck, under my wet hair,
oblivious to Scott splashing her clothes with droplets of piss
bouncing off my chest. She attached a dog chain to the collar.

Waiting for a moment, for Scott to finish his business, she
pulled me up. My knees creaked as I stood, and Patrick sighed as
his vein hard cock slipped out of my mouth.

We formed a little procession: Lindsey leading me by my dog
chain. I snatched a towel to dig the urine out of my eyes as we
padded out of the bathroom. Scott and Lindsey's husband, both
slowly stroking their stiffies, following.

Lindsey took me to the downstairs bathroom just outside the
living room. I peered in as I passed by. Jenica's head was upside
down, hanging over the end of a sofa, her legs up in a vee, with
Christian between them, diligently pumping away. Jenica gave me a
sweet smile, till Lindsey tugged me into the new bathroom.

She took out a handcuff, slapped it on my wrist, and clicked the
other to a handrail between the toilet and the bath. It meant I
could either sit on the toilet, sit in the bath (with my cuffed
arm out stretched), or sit on the floor between. I sat on the
floor. But Patrick motioned me to kneel the other way - arse out,
so he could get behind me. This meant kneeling over the toilet
bowel.

Patrick pressed his hands down on my backside to help glide his
cock into my pussy, as he started to gently doggie me. Scott
pointed his cock at me and impressively found a couple of more
spurts of piss, sprayed over my back.

Lindsey left, "I'll tell the others you're ready".

I thought this meant there'd be a steady stream of pissers
relieving themselves over me for the rest of the night. A
daunting prospect, but there is a submissive pleasure in not
having to think, just having to accept.

With a bit of edging about, Scott sat on the loo, getting his
knees under my dangling chest, so I could suck him off as Patrick
fucked me from behind.

And then the littlest room in the house was filled with
everybody: Gareth, Bill, Adam, Chris, Marika, Agneta, Jenica, and
Lindsey, even Robert squeezed in.

The four men stood shoulder to shoulder beside me, cocks out,
like a very crowded restroom. Jenica stood in the bath, opposite
the guys. I raised myself up off Scott's cock to look at them
all, slightly amazed at all the attention. Jenica, her hands
pulling her cunt lips up to show the red raw vee of her cunt's
vestibule, started pissing first. I was looking the other way, at
the guys, so it surprised me, tickled me, I giggled with a
gargled "hey!".

But no sooner had she started then Chris and Bill both sprang to
life, quickly followed by Gareth and finally my Adam. I couldn't
take it all in, five people pissing on me all at once. Five hard
smelly streams of hot urine dancing up and down the length of my
body, from my arse standing up high and proud, along my lean
back, to the back of my head and face.

I just sort of laughed, in between a bit of coughing and some
choking on piss going down the wrong way. I mean, what else can
you do in the face of - in my face of - total piss saturation. I
was drenched. Flooded out. Torrents of urine rained down in
quickly flicking lines.

Though, funnily, looking back now on it, what I remember now is
not the smell of piss, not the wash of yellow urine over
suntanned bronzed skin, not the drumming of wee expelled from
straining cocks and pussies against my rib-cage, not the warmth
of hot pee flowing over me; nor the rain of water dribbling off
my chin, off my dangling handing boobs, off the strands of limp
wet long hair. The thing that most stands out is the shrill echoy
noise of twelve lungs in a tiled bathroom all squealing and
laughing and shouting. It was deafening.

Deafening and timeless. It just seemed to go on forever. Though
that's partly as one person emptied their bladder they were
unceremoniously shoved to the back and another bladder took their
place. So Marika replaced Gareth, Lindsey replaced Bill, Jenica
replaced Agneta, and finally my Robert replaced Adam.

I especially enjoyed watching Jenica piss from her sweet pussy
into my mouth, but I was a bit too keen to swallow and had a bit
of a coughing fit. Not that anyone was bothered. I could of been
drowning with urine on the lung and they'd all just kept on
pissing on me.

And then it was over, and they all started squeezing out of the
bathroom, chatting like mad, leaving me all alone. Including
Scott, who went with the crowd, and Patrick who, had left me a
little present in my pussy, but in all the excitement, I'd
completely failed to notice him cum inside me.

So I climbed inside the bath first of all (as the floor was just
this giant lake of cold pee - how come pee gets so cold so
quickly?), and wrapped my long wet hair in a towel - a
surprisingly lengthy process with one hand cuffed to a handrail.
And ran the bath, to have a proper wash.

After the rush of the piss flood, the quiet calm of the warm bath
was good (even if I had have to have one arm pulled out to the
side because of the cuff). And in the quiet, I could hear the
noises of fucking from across the hall. And listening to those
warm sexy noises, and trying to reconstruct the piss flood in my
mind, to savour the details before the nose and smell and feel of
it left me, I slowly played with myself.

Yeah, I know, a house full of fucking and there's me playing with
myself. But hey, it was good. I must of tortured myself near the
brink of cuming for an hour before I allowed myself to climax.
And it was a good cum (like there are any bad ones?).

My finger tips were wrinkled from the water and my face was fresh
and pink, and I smelt of lavender and rosehip (not my scents, it
was just what was on the side of the bath).

I pulled the plug and wondered what do next. Cleaning the floor
seemed the way to go. Not very glam I know, but women's work blah
blah.

I used towels to mop up the piss as best I could, in as wide a
semi-circle as my cuffed wrist would let me reach.

I sat on the loo, admiring my efforts, and trying to leaf through
a copy of Marie Claire (another hard thing to do with one hand),
and just beginning to feel a bit bored and lonely and out of it
(I could hear everything going on in the living room, but not see
it). When Jenica popped in with a plate of nibbles and an easy
smile.

I asked if anyone was coming to see me, and she said the guys
were beering themselves up again, so she was sure I wouldn't be
lonely for long.

I asked if anything interesting had happened. she said that
Lindsey had demonstrated the skills of a mature woman by taking
most of a beer bottle up her arse. And Marika and Agneta had done
a demonstration lezzy session for the boys (I hate those bogus
lezzy acts).

Very sweetly, she went out to fetch my glasses for me. It was
late and my eyes were getting tired (and they can help keep the
piss out of them). I have to say, I was head over heals little
girlie infatuated with Jenica and her throaty accent, and felt a
little frustrated we couldn't slip away and just be together.

We started chatting, till Lindsey popped her head round the door
and flushed Jenica out, to get her back to work. "that was nice
session Kate" she remarked, and turned to go.

"Any chance of taking these off?" I asked in hope, raising my
cuffed hand.

"Oh no sweetie, the guys are real jazzed just knowing you're
here. They're all feeling their bellies up with beer so they can
have another go."

"Oh jeeze" I huffed, "don't tell me we'll have guys with more
desire than ability to perform to wrestle with tonight."

"Oh I'm sure you can handle plenty of drunk guys" she winked,
"and once they're asleep, we can get shut eye too, tomorrow might
be a long day".

So I sat for a while, reading an article on how to apply gold
eye-shadow, and wondering if I could carry that off.

Gareth came in, a little sheepishly on his own. It's one thing to
piss up a beautiful woman you've barely met when everyone else is
doing it, but another to do it eye-to-eye, just him and me.

I threw my magazine as far off to one side as I could. I didn't
fancy trying to read it when it was wet. I sat right back on the
toilet, so that as much of the bowel as possible was showing,
hoping most of the pee would run-off down the U-bend (cleaning
floors isn't a recreation for me).

"Oh, have you come to pee on me?"

"You don't mind?"

"Hey, I'm chained up here, what if I did mind, would that make it
better?"

"Oh fuck yeah, that be cool. I mean yeah, this is cool too. But
weird, know what I mean? But if you like hated it, yeah, that'd
be real good"

"Slap me then"

"What?"

"I said slap me."

"Oh ... like this?"

"Yeah, but harder."

Gareth took the full flat of his hand, and in a beautiful swish
slapped the side of my face, so that I could feel the sting of
his hand on my high cheek bone.

I looked up at him, meekly. He leered back at me, stroked his
cock and slapped me again, real hard this time. I yelped and the
sting brought my eyes close to tears.

He grabbed my chin and turned my face to admire the red blotch
he'd left on my cheek. He turned me back again and slapped me
again and caught me by surprise by slapping me right back with
the back of his hand too.

"Enough, please stop" I half-whispered in a weak voice.

"Yeah, whatever bitch" he snorted dismissively. and raised his
hand right up high and gave me a bleater of a slap that knocked
my head round so hard my other cheek hit the wall with a crunch.

"I think I get to say when enough is enough" he shouted.

And with that, he began to freely urinate over me - mainly over
my tits and tummy, and down into my pussy. I could have leaned
forward, to take it in my mouth, but I was too angry with him.
Some guys just don't know how to play the game or their own
strength. I bet that last slap would've given me a black eye. I
hate that.

His piss was weak and his bladder not very full. He stepped out
from over me. "You're alright" he concluded, and dribbled a long
gob of spit down on to the top of my head.

"And you're a wanker" I thought, and sat annoyed with myself for
having misjudged a punter. I mean, sure, you never know. I try
and develop an intuition about punters, whether they're nice or
nasty, but all working girls - all of them - have had punters
turn nasty on them. Gareth was only minor nasty - perhaps 'cos
there were so many others in the house, and had left it at
enjoying hurting and upsetting me. But I'm older and wiser and I
like to think I have a good eye for the evil bastards.

Adam came in. I slapped on a big grin (gotta be professional,
besides, I was worried the footsteps might of been Gareth again).
"You're one fine lady, you know that Kate."

"Thank you, it's nice of you say."

He pointed his cock out at me and started to piss over the top of
my chest and up my neck. "Nope, you're a honey." He shifted his
piss up square into my face, so I couldn't hear what he said
next.

"Pardon" I spluttered.

"I said" he lowered his cock to piss over my pussy, his bladder
emptying, "that ..." I leaned forward and took his cock into my
mouth "Ohhh that's good honey, oh yeah, damn."

He panted a bit, as his cock and the back of my throat got it
together in a nice comfortable rhythm. "Oh yeah, you're fine
cocksucker, Miss Kate."

Adam pushed his greedy cock well back into my throat. His eyes
went into that glaze men get when they're close to cuming, and
everything just narrows down to his cock. But he shot his load
into my mouth with hardly a flinch. Just three or four quivers of
his cock pumping his jizz into my mouth.

He let his cock slide out from between my lipstick lips, and I
opened my mouth wide, to show him the creamy cum puddle at the
back of my tongue, before swallowing it.

Jenica popped her head round the door with a glass of wine for
me. She was looking out for me. So maybe she'd sparked with me
too? I asked her to get Lindsey or Robert, it was important. She
ask why and I told her about Gareth. She looked at my cheek, but
said she couldn't see any bruising.

Robert came, and I told him what happened. Robert asked if I
wanted him sorting out? But I said I didn't want to cause a
stink. I said just watch him, make sure he behaved.

Lindsey came, and let me out of the handcuff. When I stood she
gave me a hug. "I've arranged for you to be with Patrick tonight,
is that ok?"

"Yeah" I smiled. "He'll be dead easy. Is that OK with you
though?"

"Yeah" Lindsey reassured me, "you've been though it enough
tonight. Patrick will take care of you, unless you want your
hubby instead of mine?"

"No, Patrick is a peach. Thanks Lindsey."

I rubbed myself down with the last clean towel, and wrapped my
still wet hair up in it, and then stepped out across the hall and
into the living room.

"Hey here's Katie" announced Bill, and all the guys broke into
applause. I smiled, and snuggled down besides Patrick, who was
sitting agreeably close to the fireplace. After the wet of the
bathroom, my naked skin enjoyed the warmth of the open flame, and
Patrick's warm hand on my buttock.

We watched Marika on all fours, her face pressed into a cushion
on the floor, being very slowly rimmed by Agneta.

I have to confess, I usually roll my eyes at such girl-on-girl
action. It's usually staged for the guys. But I was quite
impressed, they seemed pretty much lost in their own doings, and
licking someone's bottom is not really a fake gesture. So they
were really quite hot together.

Patrick squeezed my botty. I looked up at him. He lifted his
dreamy dark eyes upward. I nodded. We slipped away quietly, the
first to go.

I pulled back the covers, lay down lazily, opened my legs, and
waited for Patrick to climb on top of me. "You know, I'm really
quite fond of you" I said.

"I think you're magic" he replied, his Nigerian accent thick with
seductive desire. He entered me and slowly fucked me.

It was good, just lazily doing it missionary style. I placed my
hand over the hood of my clit and stroked myself off to the beat
of Patrick's steady fucking. I was tired, but I came quickly. He
was quite tipsy, but he spunked up into my pussy quickly too.

He rolled off me and lay beside me, cuddling. I just lay there,
panting a little, too tired to even get a tissue. I just enjoyed
the feeling of his spunk leaking out of my pussy and making my
thigh wet and sticky, and dreamily, fell asleep.
<1st attachment end>


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