Three Gangbangs in One Night

by

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Slut Wife, Swinging, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Orgy, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Sharon misses the first train and gets soaked by the rain, but the voyage home is one that she'll never forget.

Chapter 1: Damn you rain!

Sharon looked at her rain splattered watch. She had five minutes to get to the railway station, buy a ticket, drag her bag down the stairs and into the 7.45 train back home. All up it was going to be a 90-minute trip home to her husband and the four other band members waiting to celebrate her fortieth birthday.

The so called conference she just left had been a debacle. From self-destructing technologies to delayed presentations, the day, and the previous night, had been a total waste of time.

Her husband Marcus had organised another gangbang with the band for her birthday, and she had to be home, at the very least, by nine o’clock. Why nine o’clock? Because after the last gangbang good old Stan, the aggressive cockhead with the small dick and appalling attitude to women, told all the other guys’ girls about what was going on. So now they all had to be home around ten. But such is life and when there is a will, there is a way. She had originally planned to be home by about 7.30 but it seemed that fate was against her. If she wasn’t going to get two and a half hours of hardcore sex, one would have to do.

Two weeks earlier Marcus had told her of his plan to fuck her senseless. She hadn’t known about the conference at that time and now, as the company’s finances collapsed, she couldn’t really say no.

So here she was, ninety minutes from home and as horny as a goat. All she could really think about over the last two weeks was having the band fuck her like they had a few months ago. She wanted her cunt, arse and mouth filled with cock. She wanted cum, not rain, sprayed all over herself. She was a total slut and her husband loved her for it.

The rain was peeing down and the wind was strong enough to blow a dog off a chain. The familiar blue light of the railways signage beckoned to her through the veil of falling water. She flung her overnight bag back over her shoulder and continued down past the Railway Hotel towards the station. She had a quick look into the pub and saw three workers in their matching work jackets having a beer at a table. In the background the barman was on the phone. ‘Sitting down to a nice cold beer would be nice, ‘ she thought to herself. She couldn’t say the same about the ‘All you can eat’ Asian ‘Chew and Spew’ next door. The awnings overhead did little to keep the angular precipitation from drenching her attire. Her hair, indeed nearly her entire dress, was soaking wet and the wind had it pinned tightly to her petite, soft body.

The streets were nearly empty of both cars and people, not surprising considering the almost cyclonic conditions. With no weather protection available she never bothered to shield herself from the torrential downpour. Only about fifty metres away was the railway station and ninety minutes later she would be home, naked and being fucked.

She heard the familiar sound of a train rumbling towards the station as she stepped back into the rain. She put her head down and ran as quickly as her heels would take her across Railway Parade. Thanks to the wind carrying away most of the sound, the train was much closer than she thought. As she reached the footpath the train pulled into the station. A builder would have been offended by the language she used as the realisation that she was going to miss the train sunk in. Through the yellow tinted windows, she watched ten or so punters hop on to the near empty train.

Regardless of the inevitable, she continued to sprint along the footpath and for a short moment, she was running at the same speed as the train as it left the platform.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she said into the storm.

Although the train was gone, she bolted up the stairs to the station, took protection from the wind and rain and pondered what to do next. She looked up at the railway staff member who spun the hand on the clock around a full 360 degrees to 8.45pm and as far as she knew, she was going to miss out on the gangbang. All she could think to do was ring Marcus and let him know she would be catching the 8.45 home and that by 10 all the guys would be at home with their beloveds. She fished her mobile out of her handbag and called home. She heard the riff of the Beatles ‘Birthday’ and her heart sunk for a moment.

“Hey darl, how are you?” Marcus said.

“Up the shit.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“Missed the bloody train.”

The music stopped in the background.

“Bloody hell,” Marcus said

“I won’t be home until after ten.”

“That sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” Sharon leant forward in a despondent slouch. “And it’s as windy as all fuck and pissing down rain.”

“Is there anywhere to go for an hour?”

Sharon looked back down the street. “There’s a pub just down the road.”

“What’s it called?”

“The Railway Hotel,” Sharon said.

“Go and have a beer,” Marcus laughed, “Maybe you can pick up down there.”

“There were only three people in there Marcus,” She looked back down the empty street toward the pub, “For Chrissake it’s a Tuesday night, not a Saturday.”

“Well I’ll see what I can do here,” Marcus said. “Maybe we can spin a yarn to their girls.”

“Give me a call in ten.” Sharon said. “I’m as horny as hell.”

“No worries love, see ya.”

“Bye,” Sharon said and slipped her phone back into her bag.

The ticket office was still open and a man of indistinguishable ethnic origin glumly slid her ticket across the grate without even glancing up from his magazine.

Like a hypnotist’s spiral, the rain spun around in loops as it was blown down the road in the direction of the Railway Hotel. She was already soaked so re-entering the tempest was not an issue.

With the wind behind her, the trip back to the pub was quicker than the upwind crawl to the station. The owner of the ‘Chew and Spew’ held the door open for a moment in the hope that Sharon was a interested in consuming the congealing by-products of an illegal abattoir. Sharon slowed at the first window, and with a renewed interest, she eyed the three lads through the nicotine stained glass.


Chapter 2

A flood of senses When the door of the pub opened and a wet, petite lady with long curly black hair stepped in, all heads turned towards her. For Sharon, entering the pub raised two separate reactions. Firstly she was hit with the smell. Stale beer, cigarettes, deep fryer oil and sweaty men, all combined to act as an olfactory aphrodisiac that sent memories of wild drunken sex flooding through her cerebral cortex. Secondly the icy air conditioned atmosphere sent her nipples northward. The three lads sitting in the middle of the room kept their eyes fixed on her as she smiled at them and sauntered towards the bar.

The pub was your typical 1960’s beer barn with carpet that was so old, the underlay was visible through the worn sections under the stools.

“Still a bit wet out there?” One of them asked sarcastically.

“Just a bit.” Sharon replied laughing. “I missed the train so I thought I’d pop in for a quick one.”

“What would you like?” another asked.

“Oh,” Sharon pretended to be surprised by the offer, “I’d simply love a beer.”

“Easy,” he said as he hopped up from the stool and as he was halfway to the bar he turned back to his mates.

“Sorry guys,” he said, “who’s up for another?”

They both raised near empty glasses before one said to Sharon, “What beer would you like?”

“Carlton will be fine.”

“Carlton for the lady Jacko.”

A drop of water ran off her hair and trickled down into her cleavage.

“You should go and dry yourself off upstairs,” one of them said.

“I might do that,” she looked over to the barman who was smiling at her and still chatting to someone on the phone.

Sharon felt the two guy’s eyes on her as she approached Jacko at the bar. The barman was giving a mobile number to whoever was on the phone.

“No worries mate,” he said before he hung up.

“Good evening love,” he said as he eyed her up and down. “You look like you need to dry off.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” she said smiling.

“There is a bit of a bathroom just out the back if you want to towel yourself off,” he turned to his mobile which beeped an incoming message.

He grabbed the keys from behind the bar and handed them to her. “Down the corridor and go through the dining room, it’s the middle door on the right.” “Cheers,” she said and took the keys from him.

“I’ll get you this first,” the barman said as he poured her a beer.

Sharon sipped the amber nectar and went back to her bags at the table. When she turned back the barman was showing Jacko his mobile phone. Jacko laughed and sculled half his beer. Sharon could hear her phone ringing so she fished it out as she strolled down to the corridor. As she answered her phone Jacko was showing the barman’s phone to his mates. It must have been some joke, Sharon thought.

“Hi darl,” she said, “any luck?”

“Not much,” he said. “None of the girls believed our tales.”

“Bugger.” She quickly looked back at the three men and gave them all the thumbs up. “Maybe they can come over tomorrow night?”

“You know that won’t happen. It’s taken this long to convince the girls that Stan was full of shit,” Marcus had been working on them to allow the band to rehearse there for weeks, “They won’t allow two nights in a row.”

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