Not every girl has her defences stormed by the SAS, or “The Regiment” as the boys invariably referred to it.

I had spent days over the New Year of high sexual stimulation and activity with three guys trained to the peak of physical fitness. It was wonderful moving around the house nude not knowing when one, two or all three would snake out an arm and begin a sensual sexual interlude or being buried asleep on someone’s chest and feeling a growing hardness against my pussy or buttocks.

When the guys left, I must confess I felt a little empty as I replenished my food and alcohol stocks, put a pile of laundry through my washing machine and dusted and vacuumed the house within an inch of its life.

I was due back in school the following week and decided to have the weekend away despite my recent Italian trip.

I decided a countryside break would suit and phoned a little hotel I had used in the past but found that they were closed for renovations until March. Almost as a throwaway comment, the manager said there was a new caravan site with clubhouse and other facilities just opened and offering long weekend breaks at ridiculously bargain prices to promote themselves. I phoned and secured a brand new, large caravan with all the facilities at a price which couldn’t be refused.

I was late setting out and it was dark and drizzling rain when I arrived at the site. It was I confess, a little spooky. Only a few of the main lights in the camp were illuminated and a few of the caravans had lights on.

A large brick and timber built building was situated just a little way from the main gate with a large sign reading “Club House” and, at the side, a smaller uilding signposted “Office”. I parked my car and went to the office.

Inside, two teenagers sprawled with their feet on the desk, reading well known men’s magazines which on seeing me, they quickly closed and dropped out of sight.

““Croeso!” said one of the boys with a warm smile.

“Hello!” I responded with a smile. “I am Mo. I have booked a caravan for the weekend” I added.

He looked down at the desk for a moment or two and said, “Got it!” and lifted a pad of yellow forms up and waved it. He read the top form and said “Today until next Tuesday and paid in advance.” He read on. “Apparently you discussed the location with my father, and he has marked the caravan address here.”

“It isn’t far, so if you don’t mind giving us a lift there, I can open up and check that it is all connected.”

Most of the site was in darkness but a minute or two from the club by car. We reached a few caravans with lights where we stopped. The boy, whose name was Wyn, opened the caravan door and gave me the key then went in and turned on an outside light telling me I didn’t need to touch it as it was now on a time switch.until they switched it off when I left. Heat in the caravan was controlled by a central thermostat and I could monitor the temperature on a digital read-out in the lounge area. The other boy, Michael (not “Mike” I was told; “Michael”) brought my bags in and announced that the rain had stopped.

A few checks to see that everything was as it should be and Wyn invited me to visit the Club House for a “Welcome” drink. I agreed.

Outside, the rain had not only stopped, but the clouds had mainly cleared to reveal a brilliantly starry but moonless sky. It was chilly however as we retraced the brief car journey on foot but still only a matter of a few minutes.

The Club House was unlocked and at the far end was a group of about twenty teenage boys sitting drinking, chatting and watching football on a large TV screen. Apart from a few loud shouts when something happened on the pitch, they were quite restrained and Wyn led Michael and me into a large recess at the side containing a well-stocked bar.

Wyn asked what I would like to drink and I asked for a gin and tonic. He poured what must have been a triple of gin at least into a glass, added a brief squirt of tonic from a pump and added a slice of lemon. The two boys began chatting about what they had been doing at the Camp site to get it ready and I ascertained that they were both still in school.

I hadn’t noticed but Wyn had topped up my glass while I was talking to Michael and, as I hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, things became a teeny bit fuzzy at the edges. Although I saw Wyn refresh my glass again, it did not register as worthy of comment.

Time passed and the match finished and the gang of boys crowded around the bar and flirted with me as the only female for miles. One handed me a large glass of chilled white wine and my mouth being dry from the gin, I chugged it down quickly. I was handed another.

Most of the boys had gone on to their caravans; but a group of four stayed talking to us and I was enjoying the attention and the totally inappropriate touching that was going on. Well! More than touching really as I was gently tugged onto my knees and presented with two stiff penises which they pressed between unprotesting lips while the other boys removed my clothing.

Next, I was kneeling inside a ring of boys while I turned, pleasuring one cock after another, and swallowing copious quantities of cum as they erupted into my mouth.

The cycle completed, I was taken to a low coffee table where I was first pressed face down and my pussy taken from behind before I was taken in missionary style.

I think most of them had me at least twice. I was in an alcoholic haze and couldn’t be sure.

A coat was put over my naked shoulders and they led me in the direction of my caravan. We went into the caravan, and they spread me out on the double bed before I realised it still wasn’t my caravan and a tubby young boy climbed onto me and after a few tentative prods, began pump my pussy, burying a long slender penis deep in my belly. After a few grunts and groans and a wet splash at the top of my legs, he rolled away to make way for the next.

I don’t know if the next few were fresh or returning for seconds as I was rolled onto my face so they could violate my anus.

Whether I passed out or simply fell asleep, I don’t know but when I opened gummy eyes a chink of daylight could be seen through a gap in the curtains.

My face was in a boy’s naked lap, his flaccid penis limp on my chin. Another naked boy lay across my belly and yet another snored gently, naked across my feet.

I began to gently untangle myself from the sleeping bodies and discovered an extra leg. A third boy lay, beneath my left arm, head towards my feet, his lips brushing my left nipple.

Someone gripped my legs and a stiff length of boy flesh caused them to spread wider and the rhythmic grunts told, me that someone was putting his morning “stiffy” to good use. Probably only a minute or so passed when the “flaccid penis on my chin turned to wood and was being manoeuvred past my lips. Although I hadn’t heard anything, new boys began entering the caravan; several videoing the action on the ubiquitous mobile phones.

The boy in my mouth groaned and I rapidly swallowed as he pressed in on me and spilled copious quantities of seed into my throat. His place was taken by a fat Asian boy with a fat penis and a brilliant smile. From the corner of my eye I saw two boys divesting themselves of their clothes. One was blonde with milk white skin while the other was inky black. They disappeared from sight, but I felt them opening me back and front and pushing into me.

I don’t know how many visitors I had that morning, but I am sure it was well in excess of a dozen. They took all my holes and several came back for seconds.

When it stopped, I climbed to my feet on wobbly legs (in part no doubt due to the excessive alcohol intake of the previous night). My clothes were nowhere to be seen and the boys laughed when I asked about and told me they were “safe”.

My belly gurgled with hunger as the caravan filled with the wonderful aroma of bacon and a few minutes later, one of the boys presented me with a large plate of bacon sandwiches with thick white bread and a large mug of tea. Bacon sandwiches seemed to be thee order of the day as more plates were handed to the boys lounging around the caravan.

As I began demolishing the stack of sandwiches, they explained I was to be their sex slave for the weekend. They had found my union card in my purse and not only knew I was a teacher but were delighted by the fact; adding that refusal to comply with demands would be met by physical chastisement.

I felt better after the food, and they told me I could use the men’s showers and toilets located a short distance from the caravan.

I felt dirty, there was dried semen on ml body and legs and even my hair was matted with it. Several of the boys accompanied me to the low block huddled in the trees and followed me in. Once inside one of them handed me my toilet bag and i gratefully extracted my toothbrush and toothpaste before entering the communal shower. The boys had stripped and came into the shower with me, spraying me with a supermarket shower gel and used their hands to create a great foam over my body. The water was surprisingly hot and the hands on my body created a disturbing tingle in my sex. It was not to be that simple however and they marched me to the changing area where there was a large round wooden bench for users to sit and dress I was told to lie on the bench and then one at a time they took my revitalised pussy.

A second visit to the shower followed and I realised this might be a long weekend.

Several of the caravans had TVs and I lay on the bed watching a cookery programme. From time to time a boy would instruct me to adopt a suitable position and use me and I was allowed th return to the showers if things got messy.

Lunchtime came with a bag of fish and chips after which several boys took me into a small wooded area where they took me in a variety of positions.

After the showers (again). We went to the Clubhouse.

At one end they were playing pop music and It was some time before I realised that the giant screen was showing my sexual activities of the previous night. Some tech whizz had managed to transfer the videos onto the Clubhouse system.

I heard a strange voice behind me.

“What the f*** have you boys got here.”

I turned my head towards the sound and saw half a dozen men standing, gazing at the screen.

It was obvious the boys were the boys, and the Clubhouse was the Clubhouse.

“Who is the blonde bimbo?” one asked.

“That’s Mo, she is with us!” A hand slapped my buttocks, hard and loud.

Six pairs of eyes focused on my naked body.

The men sidled forward to get a better view.

One was a grizzled hair black guy in his 50s or even 60s. He took one of my hands and pulled me to my feet. Then walked around me running his hands over my body. and he asked,

“How much do you want for a share in her?”

I must be honest. I was horrified at the way this conversation was going. “What are you offering?” One of the boys asked.

The old black guy thought for a moment.

“How about we take her to our caravan tonight and bring her back early tomorrow morning? We have to work on another site tomorrow. We’ll each give you £10 quid for her.”

“She’s worth more than that!” said the boy. “She’s a schoolteacher! “He pulled my union card from his pocket to prove his argument.

I glared at the boy who was selling my body without any thought than the potential profit.

“OK” said the black man after silently consulting his partners in crime, “We will make it £15 quid each. It is only one night!” The other men made almost imperceptible nods of their heads in agreement and the boy grinned and said;

“Deal!”

Silently furious, I continued to glare at the boy as the old black man counted out bank notes and handed to the boy, The men grouped around me and I was steered out of the Clubhouse and along the road to the opposite side of the campsite to where the boys were staying.

A few minutes later we reached a very large caravan adapted to provide accommodation for a very large family or, in this case a group of men.

The door led into the kitchen area and beyond that was a spacious seating area with a large screen TV A door led out onto a small veranda. In the opposite direction, several doors led off to a small but practical shower room and toilet and several bedrooms. The black man wasted no time and quickly shed his clothes and summoned me to him. Seeing nothing I could do I obeyed him and he placed his hand on my head and pressed down, The other men sat around us in a rough circle to watch the show as I knelt before him eying a rather splendid piece of sexual tackle considering his age, evidence of which was a forest of grey hair framing his pride and joy. He reached down and quite gently pulled my head in as his penis grew towards my open mouth.

He cupped my face and rocked b, sinking deeper each time ack and fore His flesh continued to extend, thicken and harden and he was dangerously close to my throat. I sucked and rolled my tongue around the swollen head and he muttered little words of pleasure as I dragged my finger nails along the thick length of him He muttered something to the onlookers and one of flopped down on the flood behind me and scooting his head between my legs, began to lick and lap at my lower lips, his tongue darting inside me and causing me to totally lose track of my previous anger.

I was really enjoying the experience, even when the sudden hardening foretold the eruption into my throat and so copious it leaked from the sides of my mouth while I gulped the bulk of it down. A pouffe was dragged into the centre and my body laid across it face down. A penis was inserted in my mouth and my pussy, and the two men began to beat a rapid rhythm which made me a little breathless. Victorious grunts heralded another creaming of my throat and womb.

“Let’s see what she’s made of!” said the black guy from behind me and suddenly his prize marrow was parting the little brown knot between my cheeks and the pressure brought tears to my eyes. He sank deep into my bowels muttering “Christ! She’s tight!” with each thrust into me.

If anything, the flow of semen at his climax dwarfed the first and I felt the force of it splashing my insides.

The old man then retired to one side watching the proceedings as the other men took turns with whichever orifice appealed to them at the moment.

It was midnight when they left for their bed while I showered away the last of their deposits.

I returned to the sitting area and curled up on one of the long seats wrapped in a duvet which one of the men had thoughtfully provided.

It was a little after dawn when I was roused by them moving around and preparing for work and I prepared a large, cooked breakfast for all of us and I was gratified to see the remnants wiped away with the thick slices of buttered bread I had prepared.

It was a cold damp morning and after some affable group groping and a smacked bottom, they sent me back up the road to the boys, still wrapped in the duvet.

I went to “my” caravan, unoccupied since my arrival hoping to find my clothes but there was no sign and I curled up on a bed watching TV.

I must have dozed off and was woken when two penises entered my pussy and anus. Sunlight was streaming through a window and I had to close my eyes against the glare as the two boys pumped and bumped against each other deep inside me.

Surprisingly, only 2 other boys came to the caravan during the day, and I took the opportunity to sleep.

It was dark when I awoke, and I was famished.

I went to the other caravan and the boys fed me pizza without further demands on my body.

Afterwards, I was given a coat and marched down to the Clubhouse where all the boys and the men were sitting around smoking and drinking.

A Chinese guy seemed to be giving instructions to everyone and after a moment or two, he approached me and stripped off the coat exposing my body to all. He ran his hands over my buttocks and between my legs, gently probing my ass and pussy.

The Chinamen pressed a card into my hand.

“I think you will enjoy this” he whispered into my ear as the crowd rumbled in anticipation.

“I have heard of you, Mo!” he said. “You have a predilection for sex innovation, and I have been told of your proclivity for what many would condemn, I am organising some special parties next week that, I think, will appeal to you.”

Still tingling and breathless, I listened and to be truthful, a little turned on. OK! I was turned on.

“I will let you know when I get home and think about it.” I replied. Deep inside I knew I had decided.

He beckoned and three boys approached stripping of their clothing as they did so.

The rest of the evening is a blur of sex and vast quantities of cum in every fashion known to man.

I phoned Wu (The Chinese guy) the Monday evening and arranged to meet him Friday afternoon in a pub outside a small market town near Offa’s Dyke. Over the years I have arranged a number of “sexcapades” with strangers around the country and although my week was spent in a frisson of excitement and imaginings, I had no worries.