Bindi had been honest about one thing; there was a party at Angie’s but it wasn’t to celebrate her and Jarek’s engagement; it was just the usual Monday night bash for some of the council staff. For a few days she’d been toying with the idea of surprising everyone with the announcement, figuring that then Jarek would have no choice but to agree. She knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t embarrass her in front of all her friends and say they weren’t. He’d argue later, but he’d eventually get used to the idea and they’d get married in the New Year. A big church wedding, white gown, half a dozen bridesmaids, all the trimmings—make her girlfriends so jealous they’d want to slit their wrists.
But that bloody kid being here had given Jarek the courage to defy her. One of those impossibly good looking guys that are usually queer. Surely Jarek wasn’t…? No, of course not, he’d been good in bed at the beginning. A bit unadventurous, but reliable. Perhaps she shouldn’t have played hard to get so many times. Although the girls at work reckoned it made men hornier if you act as if you don’t want it. Men like to think they’re tough guys able to force a chick to screw. She sometimes wished he’d be a bit rough on her and force her. He was always so polite. If she said no he’d accept it and go to his own room. He’d be brilliant husband material. The thing that most annoyed her though, was losing the guy who paid the rent and did all the housework. Still, there were plenty of other suckers out there. All a girl had to do was flash her tits and guys came running with their tongues hanging out.
She decided to get a bit of fresh air and walk to the town centre and back. Might meet some guy at a loose end to bring home for a few drinks to help her forget the bastard who’d just jilted her. She deserved some compensation. It was so hot she’d wear that new sleeveless creamy cotton shift. Too hot for panties or bra, though. Turning her back to the mirror she bent over. The skirt didn’t ride up too much. A pair of cream sandals and she was off, striding through the night, enjoying the feel of fabric brushing expectant nipples, and cool air over her cunt.
‘Fuck I’m sexy,’ she whispered.
Music was pounding from the Football Clubhouse as she passed, and the sound of laughter dragged her across the car park and into the crowded recreation room. She’d given up going there when she moved in with Jarek. Time to return to old haunts. A dozen couples were dancing, a group of guys were playing darts at one end, and Jerry, Col and Stu were hunched on stools at the far end of the bar as if they hadn’t moved since she last saw them.
They’d had a bad-boy reputation at school, wagging, shagging, shoplifting. Several of her friends had lost their virginity with them. Bindi had wanted to do the same but always chickened out at the last minute, berating herself afterwards for being such a piker. Well, she was no longer a virgin, so perhaps…
Stu saw her and beckoned.
‘Gidday Bindi, haven’t seen you for a while. What’re you drinking?’
‘Same as you, thanks, Stu.’
‘Been dumped by your pretty boyfriend?’ Jerry grinned.
‘ I dumped him.’
‘So you’re looking for a replacement?’ Col’s smile was calculating.
‘Could be,’ she flirted. ‘Are you offering?’
‘Could be,’ he replied, winking at his mates.
Stu arrived with her drink and stood behind her, reached round to place it on the table then briefly cupped her breasts as he withdrew his hand.
She giggled. ‘Thanks, Stu.’ Sitting between Jerry and Col, her smile was inviting.
‘You’re welcome, Bindi,’ Stu leered, reaching round and cupping her breasts again. ‘Mmm sexy nipples.’
She giggled again. Excited. These guys were fun. Bindi preened herself in the mirror behind the bar and relaxed her thighs allowing Jerry and Col’s light fingers to explore. She looked around. No one was paying any attention to them. Stu put his hands on her shoulders, told a joke and pressed his erection against her back while they laughed. A normal group of twenty-somethings enjoying a few beers together.
‘A word of advice, Bindi,’ Jerry said mock seriously, ‘check out the competition before lumbering yourself with Stu.’
‘You and Col are the competition?’
‘I reckon. Aren’t we Col?’
‘Are we ever, mate. Believe me, Bindi, Stu may look tough, but he’s a pussy compared with us.
Unless you aren’t interested in real men.’
‘I’m interested in real men,’ she said, heart pounding in excitement. ‘Are you interested in a real woman?’
‘If she doesn’t wear panties and gives me a meat sandwich.’
Stu and Col could barely stifle their laughter.
‘Are you hungry?’ Bindi asked innocently.
‘Very. What do you say we head over to your place for a snack?’
‘All of us?’
‘How else can you check out the competition? You are up for a fuck, aren’t you?’ His cool smile and the challenge in his voice was unmistakeable. ‘Because if you’re just another prissy cock-teaser you can piss of now!’
Jerry’s blatant provocation had the desired result; she suddenly needed to prove herself.
Brazenly, she leaned back against Stu’s erection and opened her legs wider, allowing the fingers to invade completely. Of course she wasn’t just a crappy cock-teaser. She knew what she was doing.
Tossing her head she said less calmly than she’d have liked, ‘Let’s go.’
‘Good girl! But first,’ he pointed. ‘See that bloke by the door?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’ve got to tell him you’ve invited us. It’s the new club rules. If a chick tells him she’s invited players to her pad for a fuck, then she can’t later on accuse them of rape. OK?’
Bindi was suddenly not so sure. Romance was fast draining out of this encounter, especially when the old bloke at the door was one of her father’s friends who’d known her forever. She hesitated.’
‘Yeah, I knew it. Just another ball-buster. Fuck off, Bindi.’
‘Fuck you, Stu,’ she muttered, striding over to the doorkeeper, followed by the three Lotharios.
‘Hello, Bindi. Long time no see. Enjoying yourself?’
‘Yeah, great Mr. Lagard, thanks.’ Then before she changed her mind quickly stammered,
‘Apparently I’ve got to tell you these three are invited to my place, OK?’
‘How well do you know them, Bindi?’ he asked gently. ‘Their reputation’s not that hot.’
‘I went to school with them.’
‘You do realise they expect sex?’
‘Not that it’s any of your business!’ she snapped angrily. ‘But yes, I realise that. I’m not a kid any more!’ Turning on her heel she stalked into the night.
‘Take your shoes off boys, this is a civilized house,’ Stu laughed on entering.
Bindi smiled in relief. They weren’t such bad guys.
‘May as well get the rest of our gear off while we’re at it,’ Col added.
‘Good idea.’
Three naked men prowled into the front room, looking at everything, picking up ornaments, checking the bookshelf.
‘Nice carpet. Persian?’
‘Hardly. Just a cheap imitation.’
‘Then I guess we’ll have to make an imitation sandwich.’
Lewd laughter.
Bindi stared at her guests in rising panic. In their clothes the men had seemed mildly sexy.
Nudity had wrought a transformation. All were heavy, muscled types that in a few years would run to fat. Stu’s hairy body and powerful dark brown erection lent him a bestial aura as he prowled, playing with himself. Jerry’s skin, white to the point of transparency, was speckled with freckles and blotches. The sight of his red, slack scrotum dangling when he bent over to check the carpet was bad enough, but less off-putting than the active pimples on his bum. Col was also pale, but chunkier and fitter than his mates, also cleaner perhaps. He was staring at her silently, playing with his erection, an odd smile on his lips that he kept licking with a long tongue. Only seconds had passed but it already seemed like hours. She realised she had to say something, but what? Ah, yes.
They wanted a sandwich.
‘The kitchen’s through there,’ she pointed.
‘Here’ll be fine, won’t it guys?’
‘Perfect,’ Jerry purred. ‘Come on. We haven’t got all night.’
‘I just have to go to the bathroom,’ Bindi stuttered. ‘Won’t be a minute.’
‘Better not be. We’re fuckin horny.’
Bindi sat on the toilet and took long deep breaths, emptied her bladder then checked her image in the mirror. ‘You're a sexy girl,’ she whispered in attempt to bolster courage. ‘Three men are lusting over you.’
Jerry was leaning against the wall stroking his nipples while watching Stu and Col mock wrestle on the carpet.
‘Took you long enough,’ Jerry snapped.
Stu and Col rolled onto their backs and grinned up. ‘Got tired of waiting,’ Stu laughed.
‘Where’re your condoms?’
‘In the cupboard beside my bed,’ she whispered. Stu went in search while Col and Jerry pulled off her dress and rubbed themselves against her, transferring powerful odours of day-old sweat and maleness that caused her to catch her breath. Torn between fear and excitement, she whimpered as teeth nibbled at nipples and fingers probed deep into vulva and anus.
‘Please, not that.’
‘Shut up, Bindi’ Col said not unkindly. ‘Remember you’re just the filling We’re the sandwich makers.’
Stu arrived with a hand-cream dispenser that he tossed to Con, then dropped onto his back on the carpet and handed Bindi a foil packet. ‘Wrap this round my manhood, missy and prepare yourself for the experience of a lifetime.’
Bindi knelt between his splayed legs but her hands were shaking too much.
‘Fuck you’re useless,’ Col laughed, tearing it open with his teeth then expertly rolling the condom onto his friend’s dark brown boner, then the other onto his own. ‘Now, Bindi, get that magnificent instrument inside you and make sure it’s as deep as it can go, we don’t want it to fall out.’
Whimpering softly, Bindi slid forward then slowly lowered herself onto the hardest, fattest penis she had ever experienced, not stopping until she felt Stu’s hip bones pressing against her buttocks.
‘Can we stop now?’ she asked pathetically. ‘I think I’ve made a mistake. Perhaps another time?’
‘Believe me, it’s no mistake, Bindi,’ Col leered, thrusting her forward, burying her face in Stu’s hairy chest. ‘This is what all truly sexy women long for, so enjoy!’ Before she could object he slapped a wad of hand crème against her anus and over his erection, then knelt and carefully inserted himself.
At first the pain was so bad she could only gasp, sucking in air as if drowning.
‘Yay! I can feel you going in, Col!’ Stu shrieked. ‘Our cocks are only millimetres apart. I’ll bet you come first you randy bugger. Take your time from me, you two.’
Bindi’s increasingly desperate efforts to lift her body away from the pain were foiled when Jerry knelt at her head, dragged her face up by her hair and shoved his ripe red phallus into her open mouth.
In a surprisingly short time the slow, rhythmic, coordinated pumping of three blood-filled organs into her orifices began to feel almost pleasant. The pain subsided to manageable levels until she let herself relax and the pain ceased completely, replaced by electric shudders that forced little shrieks of delight.
‘You’re loving this, aren’t you Bindi,’ Jerry whispered into her ear.
‘I’m nearly coming!’ Stu warned.
‘Me too.’
‘Me too.’
‘Now!’
As one, the three men heaved and thrust violently for several seconds, and then it was all over.
Rapidly wilting penises were withdrawn; Bindi swallowed and managed not to gag. They all lay on their backs for a minute panting softly, then the three men hoisted themselves to their feet. Stu patted her on the shoulder, whispered, ‘Thanks Bindi, that was great,’ and they disappeared, leaving the front door open.
As sexual ecstasy dissipated and the agony of unusual penetration reasserted itself, shame threatened to overwhelm Bindi. She’d been used. Used like a blow-up doll and left on the floor. She sniffed back tears of humiliation, then crawled to the front door and slammed it as hard as she could. That made her feel better. A careful examination revealed no blood, no bruises, no obvious damage. She stood shakily and discovered she could walk painlessly to the kitchen where she made a cup of tea that she took to her bedroom. Sitting on the bed, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror she began to giggle. Not hysterically; softly.
‘A sandwich.’ The giggles became genuine laughter. ‘I thought they meant food. I was the meat in their sandwich!’ The smile broadened as she lay back, gently feeling the bits that were still a bit tender, but not minding them so much. ‘Next time,’ she whispered, ‘next time I’ll stroke Stu’s sexy hairy butt and lick his nipples and have a lot more fun first. Some kissing as well. I’ll be properly prepared and it won’t hurt a bit.’
After a long shower that took all the hot water in the cylinder but still failed to wash away the defilement, Adele Nimffo dragged the stinking mattress out onto the verandah. The rest of the night was spent angrily thrusting her clothes books and knickknacks into suitcases and cardboard boxes that had been stored in the spare room. Round and round in her head churned the evening’s humiliation alternating with panic attacks at the thought of exposure. As the night wore on, fear was slowly edged out by anger. She hadn’t been physically damaged and it would take more than what had happened to undermine her self-respect. As the hours passed anger morphed to fury and a determination to exact retribution...but how?
The mill of her mind ground through every detail of nearly four years at the high school, and sifted the results through the filter of experience. She was innocent! The realisation electrified and sharpened tired senses. She, an honourable woman, had been attacked and terrorised. In the calm light of reason she knew, as all reasonable people would, that her behaviour had always been exemplary in every respect. All the boys had been well into or past their puberty and doubtless wanking themselves silly in frustration at not having a girl to be intimate with. She was a teacher who had simply been doing her job; instructing her more sensitive charges about the joys and mechanics of sex. She should be praised, not pilloried!
As she sorted, packed and dragged the boxes and suitcases through to the front room of the rented cottage, everyone she knew was examined under the spotlight of her sharpened intellect. The evening’s unwelcome invaders wouldn’t have been parents; they’d have gone straight to the police.
The only possibility was Zeno with a mate. The problem was how to prove it? She’d been careless, no, incredibly stupid to do it with him. Quiet, insecure boys were the deserving recipients of her beneficence. Boys too shy to tell anyone. Boys who might be upset for a while but later on deeply grateful for the experience, just as she’d been on her fourteenth birthday when she finally accepted that her uncle hadn’t wanted to hurt her when she was twelve—he only needed to show how much he loved her.
She fingered his first gift, the twenty-four carat gold chain she always wore round her neck, remembering his assertion that it was her beauty and purity that made him do it. She was like the blessed virgin, he’d said. So intelligent, serene and uncontaminated by the world that he wanted to purify himself by bathing in her. Her forgiveness had been total and they had made love again on the spot. When told, her mother’s doubts about the suitability of the liaison dissolved when she learned the size of her brother in law’s bank balance and his willingness to spend much of it on her daughter and herself.
The sun was just rising when Adele Nimffo dragged the suitcases down to her car, leaving the boxes for the carrier she would telephone later that day. She drove away without looking back, already planning her return and the vengeance she would exact. She’d never liked the uninsulated, damp little cottage so was glad to be leaving, but not for this reason. She saw no one she knew on her way out of town and had driven fifteen kilometres before the elusive memory arrived, triggering a cry of triumph. She slammed on the brakes and a sly smile transformed her features into a mask of pure malice. She knew the person with the camera! When he was urinating on her she noticed the same small, diamond-shaped birthmark at the base of his penis that she’d observed when rolling the condom on Zeno the night he’d fucked her! His DNA would be in the urine-soaked mattress. She didn’t have to leave town! She’d return, make an official complaint, he’d be found guilty of assault, the photos would be impounded before they could besmirch her reputation, and she would be avenged!
‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ she shouted, slamming the car into gear and whipping the vehicle round in a tight U-turn that caused it to skid on loose stones and slide towards the soft shoulder of the road.
Instead of accelerating out of the skid, she braked, sending the car juddering over the edge, where it teetered for a second before rolling down a grassy slope. Dew prevented the wheels from gripping when she applied the brakes. It wasn’t a dangerous situation; the slope levelled out after about a hundred metres so the car would eventually roll to a stop. She’d have to get a farmer to tow her out.
Irritating, but no big deal.
And that would have happened if a fallen tree trunk concealed in the long grass hadn’t abruptly stopped the front wheels, causing the car to slowly somersault. That would have been
uncomfortable, but not fatal because Adele was wearing her seat belt and the car was fitted with air bags that slammed noisily into her face and chest. Unfortunately, a short but solid vertical branch attached to the fallen tree smashed through the windscreen and stopped the vehicle at the height of its flip. Like an advertisement for a wrecker’s yard the car remained propped on its nose, the exhaust pipe pumping carbon monoxide vertically into the air.
With tinnitus ringing in her ears the teacher struggled to free herself from a seat belt inextricably entwined with the deflated airbag and the invading branch. Despite her determination and effort, however, she remained suspended upside down, head pressing uncomfortably against the roof.
By four-thirty in the afternoon when she was found, blood had pooled in her brain and was seeping through wide-open eyes.