Willing cuckold

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The tall figure of her mother loomed over her as Alice sat on the couch watching television. “It’s a bonny day, get out.”

The eighteen year old Alice groaned, shaking her long golden hair back and sneering at her mother. “Don’t want to.”

Her mother leaned across and flicked off the loud television in the corner and raised her hand. “I said geht-owt. Is-ne-ahh good be in ‘ouse all day.”

Alice glared at her mother, she only wanted her out because she was expecting her unemployed boyfriend to come around, and all her four brothers and sisters were at school, or truanting. Alice got up from the sofa and slung her pink tracksuit jacket over her bare shoulders and sauntered out of the house after swearing at her mother.

She recognised her mother’s boyfriend the moment she saw him, he was sauntering down their overgrown path with a cigarette in his mouth and nodded towards the girl the moment he saw her. “Hiya babe,” he drawled and Alice snorted as he put his arm out and grabbed her waist. “You lookin’ mighty fine there.”

Alice removed his arm and gave him a dirty look. “Fuck off,” she cried in an annoyed voice and pushed him away. Alice didn’t know where to go, her best friend was currently in a Youth Offenders Institution, and her boyfriend was working – he had a job – so she just wandered onto the run-down council estate they lived on and idly walked towards the park.

Her mother was right, it was a warm day and she sat down on the nearest swing and just back, watching the world go by. She called over her nineteen year old sister when she saw her walking past and took some of the vodka she had stolen as well as a cigarette.

Alice was bored, and it took a shock from Hugo, her boyfriend’s best friend to bring her out of her daydream. He came behind her and pulled her off the swing, leaving her legs dangling long enough to be able to slide his hand underneath her skirt and onto her knickers. She glared at him as she regained her balance – it was not the first time he had done such a thing. Hugo was a nice guy, the child of a prostitute and a wealthy gentleman who said he would support the child if, and only if, she named it after him. Hugo was teased about his name – it was “posh” – but he was a good looking guy and clever, the only one of Alice’s friends who was studying for A Levels.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, ‘ugo,” Alice moaned and steadied herself, allowing Hugo’s hands to wander up her sides to touch her bosom. “That bloody hurt.”

“Sorry. Mam’s out for the night,” he admitted and Alice rolled her eyes, they both knew that Hugo’s mother would be out for the evening at the brothel, earning a fraction of what she used to make when she entertained the aristocracy when she had flamboyant looks, but Hugo was relaxed about it. “Robbie’s coming over for a few bevvies. You up for it?”

Alice nodded, she certainly couldn’t go home, her mother was probably on the couch as she thought about it, her legs up in the air as her pussy was being pounded. Hugo smiled and held out his hand, taking the bored girl’s in his and pulling her back to her feet, guiding her towards the small terraced house that overlooked the park.

Hugo lived in the roughest part of the Ryelands Estate and they walked around a burnt out car abandoned on the edge of the wasteland outside his house before reaching the terraced property.

Alice smiled as Hugo brought in a bottle of vodka and a tin of baked beans. He wasn’t sure how to turn on the gas and was used to eating baked beans cold and he offered some to Alice who took a mouthful greedily. The vodka was stolen, either from the local off-license or from Hugo’s mother, but he poured her a glass and Alice took a gulp.

“Where the fuck is Robbie?” Alice said out loud, gasping as the liquid magma scorched her throat and Hugo shrugged.

“Probably getting some wank mags,” he replied and pushed back on the threadbare sofa. “He said he might.”

“He’ll want a fuck then,” she replied matter-of-factly, alluding to the fact that her boyfriend had a very powerful sex drive and knew that the pornographic magazines would make him want satisfaction later.

About the author

George B. J. Martin

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