The Greyhound bus pulled away leaving them in a cloud
of dust and diesel fumes. Loxville had been on the UK
tourist guide ‘must see’ list but neither John nor Tori
could see why – it wasa grade A dump! Loxville only had
one thing going for it – it was full of convention
centres.
The couple were Tori – superb example of an English
Rose. blond, blue eyes, stunning looker, ample breasts
without being too flash, and long legs. Rounded off
with a Surrey accent that turned heads everywhere she
went.
John was reasonably good looking but ‘safe’. Tori’s
sister always commented on his ‘mono-brow’ which
together with his 2 day stubble made him look a bit
Neanderthal.
They flopped into their motel room – Tori falling into
a deep sleep almost straightaway. John went exploring
but only the thing he discovered was that he’d lost his
wallet.
Tori woke to the sounds of John throwing everything out
of there combined luggage. “Where the fuck is the
cash?” was all he kept saying.
They turned the room upside down looking for John’s
wallet for it contained all their cash, credit cards
and travellers cheques. The last thing John remembered
was counting what money they’d left over – on the back
seat of the bus now 200 miles away.
Between them they had $4 and some loose change.
They tried to explain to the motel owner that they’d
get someone to wire the cost of the accommodation but
Frank only threatened to call the cops.
He said that perhaps he could get a couple of the
conventioneers to donate some money if Tori would turn
a couple of tricks. Being English, Tori didn’t realise
what Frank had said for a while. Somewhat taken aback,
she felt shocked and not just a little afraid once
realisation dawned – John didn’t help because he
thought it was a good idea. “What’s wrong with letting
a couple of old guys grope you?”
They argued for the entire day until very reluctantly
Tori agreed – but insisted John would be close at hand
if things got out of hand.
Frank gave her some more ‘appropriate’ clothes to wear
other than the jeans, T and sneakers that were her
choice. Now resplendent in a black short-wear nightie
and matching knickers and stockings Tori assumed her
position on the bed.
Before long her first customer arrived – Frank took on
the role of pimp with a practiced ease. John took the
money.
The salesman just talked excitedly, kissed and groped
Tori – somewhat roughly. He put his hand on her pussy
and moved it up and back – as though expecting this
action would turn Tori on. He finally plucked on the
courage to put his hand down her knickers, and on
feeling her course hair and the moist envelop between
her legs he promptly rushed to the toilet. Tori could
hear him retching down the pan. Emerging from the
toilet, the punter picked up his coat and left
apparently satisfied.
The next customer was a teenage boy who didn’t say
anything other than to ask Tori to say ‘absolutely’ in
that Surrey accent. Duly obliging, Tori whispered the
word in his ear and the lad promptly came in his pants.
Customers three and four were much like number one –
they just wanted to talk to an English girl – the
English girl they’d been told about.
“Not too bad then,” thought Tori, “Maybe Americans just
wanted to talk.”
How wrong she was.
John opened the door to tell Tori to expect another
customer soon. He clutched a green Nike shoe box that
doubled as a hasty cash register. At $45 a pop they’d
have enough to get out of here soon. He was aware of
someone behind him but as he turned to see who it was
he felt a sharp pain across the back of his head – and
no more.
John woke and doubled blinked. He was lying on his side
facing the bedroom wall – he knew it was their room
because he recognised the crack in the plaster.
His head hurt – really hurt and he felt sick. On
reaching the can he threw up and his head hurt all the
more. The bathroom was a mess. As his eyes got used to
the low light level he could see several discarded
condom wrappers and indeed lots of condoms – some
filled some not.
He stepped back into the room to see two dark shaped
silhouetted against the window. The shapes, having
dressed themselves, made their way to the door, opened
it and stepped out.
Moments later Frank put his head around the door and
half-whispered, “That’s all girl,” and shut the door.
John looked over to the bed. Tori was lying across it
face down – quite naked now. In the gathering light of
dawn John could see a remnant of the nightie moist from
use as a communal cock-wiping cloth.
Tori was slick with a mix of sweat, drool, blood and
semen. She lay on a huge wet patch – later he and Frank
turned the mattress over but it was stained right
through.
The smell was undeniably ‘fuck’ reek.
With help, Tori sat up. She was smeared from head to
feet. She even had a thin trickle of semen coming out
of her nose now that she was upright. Her legs were
bruised with the marks of many hands and fingers, and
the inside of her thighs scratched from various zips
and belt buckles. Her body was covered with bite marks
– her nipples had especially been a target to the point
where they were red raw and bleeding.
She made it to the bathroom and spent all of five
minutes retching – mostly bile and semen. She crawled
into the shower and ran it until the water turned cold.
Frank somewhat matter-of-factly recounted what happened
to them – a mini-coach load of red-necks arrived and
after one of them slugged John, proceeded to gang rape
Tori over a period of some hours. To a man they told
Tori to say something in her clipped Surrey accent. To
a man they dumped their load into her as she spoke.
A bunch of conventioneers took up where the Texans
finished – they didn’t care whether Tori spoke or not –
in fact she couldn’t talk much on account of her mouth
being filled with a variety of dicks and their
inevitable semen load. It took all her effort just to
keep breathing, let alone stop herself from swallowing.
For Tori this was the most disgusting.
She was simultaneously raped three ways – all the time
the guys taking photographs. Then she was
systematically sodomised and forced to endure fellatio
immediately afterwards. The way that groups of men act
when conventional behaviour is suspended is
astonishing. They took turns holding her arms and feet
– seeing how wide they could spread her legs while one
of their number banged into her. Finally, they all
wiped their dicks with her hair.
When they left things calmed down a little. Punters
arrived mostly in ones and twos – it occurred to Tori
that those who forced her into a threesome readily
dumped their load at least twice. Singles just ‘came
and went’.
The most memorable encounter was almost at the end. She
was aware they someone entered the room.
He got undressed – well took of his pants and
underwear. The bed lurched to one side as he put first
one knee then another on the bed. The guy was huge –
physically tall, broad and very heavy.
Momentarily bringing his full weight to bear on Tori.
Just as she felt she’d be suffocated, the guy leaned up
on one forearm – using his free arm he spread Tori’s
legs as wide as they’d go.
To say the guy had a big dick would be an
understatement. As he guided it into Tori she drew up
her knees – if only to make the entry less painful.
Grateful that she was already wet from all the
previous donations.
Once fully engaged the guy set to pumping in a slow
steady rhythm – sometimes picked up the pace a little,
sometimes going slower but never stopping. The size of
his dick filled Tori so much that the inordinate amount
of semen already in her was forced out. She could feel
it running out of her pussy down in between the cheeks
of her bum.
Tori felt him come – for a moment thinking he wasn’t
going to stop – such a torrent. The guy just kept up
that same rhythm finally pulling out when he’d emptied
a further two times into her. As he withdrew a river of
semen was gratefully released.
“Thank you ma’am,” he said in a southern drawl. “Got to
get some shut eye before I head out west.” He was the
only one that said thank you.
Tori saw him dress – his denim jacket had a distinctive
green and gold flash across the back.
As the big man left the room he was replaced by a pair
of Mexicans. Their swarthy features glistening in the
half light – dicks not that big but both went at Tori
like a couple of rutting bulls – each replaced by the
other in a frenzy of sexual activity in any one of a
dozen different positions – they never gave her a
moment’s respite for almost an hour.
Their parting gift for Tori, and one they did with
practiced ease, was a double vaginal entry up to the
point they were almost coming then put their dicks in
her mouth – spurting their loads together. They left
there dicks in her until the last final drops had been
off-loaded. One even put his hand over Tori’s nose to
make sure she took it all inside her.
Frank had insisted that all the ‘participants’ make a
contribution for hiring the English girl. Most paid
something, some paid a lot. The shoe box was almost
full of notes – totaling more that $2,000.
Frank reckoned that Tori had been serviced by at least
40 guys and probably more. He’d even had a go himself
but didn’t share that with John.
John went to get some breakfast – joined by Frank. Tori
got dried, dressed in her hot-pants and T, stuffed some
clothes and the entire contents of the shoe box into a
flight bag – save $45 – and closed the door quietly
after her. She’d leave him the cost of a shag. She’d
also wiped some of the jism off her pussy using the
inside fold of John’s passport – on the page stamped
with the US visa – “Explain that one,” she grinned
inwardly.
Three hours later Tori watched the road gently rolling
by. Her long legs stretched to the dash-board – bare
feet resting lightly – slightly apart allowing the cool
a/c breeze between her legs – grateful for the relief
it gave.
In the door-mirror she could just see Loxville way in
the distance. The green and gold truck side panel
gleaming in the mid-morning sunshine.
She found Clem the big trucker and he agreed to take
her as far as he was going and that was L.A. She’d need
to catch a bus to her ultimate destination of San
Francisco later.
She and Clem had stuck a deal – he’d give her a lift
and supply food and drink in return for Tori giving him
freebies on the way. He explained that in the US,
truckers have to stop every four hours for at minimum
of one hour – but he was way ahead of schedule so could
stop for longer.
As tired and sore as she was, Tori found herself being
banged in the trucker’s tiny cot more or less every
four hours – sometimes less, for more or less an hour –
sometimes more. They’d worked out that the most
comfortable way for Tori to accommodate Clem’s huge
‘tonka’ was if she lay on her back with one leg
velcro’ed against the luggage rack and the other tied
around the driver’s seat belt housing. She couldn’t
believe how something that big could slip inside her
that easily – although she continued to discharge from
the initial onslaught for several hours. They’d
probably stretched her a good deal too.
She experienced most explosive and long lasting orgasms
she’d ever had in the back of that truck. Disposing of
the spent semen was a bit of a problem and Clem’s cot
and sleeping bag bore the brunt being required to soak
up most of the flow back.
Clem never did oral or any of that ‘city stuff’ – Tori
very grateful he didn’t want her bum either with a dick
that size.
They hauled over for the last night before LA and
stayed in a small motel. Clem clearly wanting his
money’s worth insisted on shagging Tori all night. She
was still full when they walked to the truck but was
too tired to care about the stream of semen running
down the inside of her legs. She’d long stopped wearing
pants because they didn’t stem the flow for very long
anyway.
Tori said farewell to Clem and got the bus to SF. The
first thing she must do is check herself into a
hospital – with her internal and external bruising as
evidence she’d be able to claim rape (which was of
course true) and get free medical aid.
Once in SF she’d stay awhile but needed to fund that.
She very much liked being banged long and hard –
perhaps there’s an opening for and English Rose?