Grease, Pigtails and Sweet Revenge

So much for writing about gorgeous work shagging throughout November.. my life is taking a hectic turn at the moment, work is so busy this time of year and I’m currently buying my first house so I am frantically buying furniture and furnishings for it… all this before Christmas, but I do intend to keep the blog going and tonight I have a few stolen a moments.

Right where was I? Oh yes, I had failed to keep the work and shagging thing going with the premature Martin and someone else had got my attentions, just for a short while.

On some days my work would bring me into the warehouse where I would inspect the ladies wear before it was despatched to the high street.

A girl would have to be thick skinned to venture into the warehouse, it was not a place for the innocent or weak hearted as like all warehouses across the UK is was a haven for gentle sexual harassment and down right cheekiness. I liked it.

“Corr, Julie’s arse looks the bollocks in that skirt”
“That’s it bend over love, so I can see yer tits”
“Fuckinell, I bet she gets her pants on prescription” (to an over weight lady)
“Do you have an inny or an outy?” referring to the size of one’s labia
“I wonder if she takes it up the Garry Glitter?”
“I was doing Janice last night and she did a right good fanny-fart”

Where regular whispers that could be heard across the rails in the warehouse and no doubt the filthy minded warehousemen were the source and any pretty girl that wondered through was subjected to a wolf whistle or a clever sexual innuendo.

I enjoyed in the banter and gave as good as I got, I secretly marvelled at the top less page three models that had been torn out of the Mirror or The Sun that sprawled the decaying walls above the desk where they slurped strong mugs of tea and ate huge bacon rolls whilst reading The Sport or deciding what horses to back that weekend.

The lorry drivers would come and go, join in the bacon and baked bean culture, perv on you, then piss off to deliver their loads. They were usually old boys, delivering textiles since the 60’s from a time when the textile industry was booming in the UK but someone new had been coming by, a boy my age and what I considered “a nice bit of rough”

I soon learned that the new “bit of rough” was Ben, the factory manager’s son who owned his own distribution company that had been given a few contacts to perv on you, join in the bacon and baked bean culture then piss off.

I liked the fact that Ben was the factory manager’s son, because the factory manager was, what I call a grade A cunt. I rarely use the “C” word but this freak of nature brought me to use it. He was a narrow minded-bigot, an Alf Garnet type character, a wind up merchant and I found myself enter in many an argument with him about him and his shallow opinions. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to shag the living day-lights out of his precious son, with his moralistic views, sweet kinky revenge I planned.


Let the flirting commence and it did, we exchanged telephone numbers and he rang.

“Im just off junction XX, come and meet me”
“O.K”

Now it wasn’t all about revenge on the factory manager, I did find Ben sexy, he had thick dark wavy hair to his chin, chisel cheek bones another big man to fuck my 4’ll and (then) size 8 tiny 21 year old frame. He wasn’t as brash as the others, he was cheeky but wasn’t offensive, a tad more class, but rugged and strong.

Another aspect was that I had always fantasized about fucking in a lorry after watching a pornographic film when pre pubescent, I could say that, that was my first mental sexual experience and has been great wank material ever since.

So we met in his 7.5 tonner and we fucked, he found it a bit surprising that we did it on our first encounter, after I’d given the usual little miss innocent blag during working hours, but I don’t want to write about my first experience with Ben .. as things got a lot hotter and he became an ultimate fuck-buddy that summer.

“I’m just coming off junction XX, NO PANTS” He’d demand
“O.K” Like I had a choice

Denim mini skirt – check (fashionable then)
No top – Check
Denim Jacket, buttoned up – Check
Pig tails – Check
Virgin style pussy smooth & bold – Check
Teenage ankle socks – Check
Teenage trainers – Check
No pants – Check
Hope to Christ I don’t have an accident –Check

So we’d meet down a dark slip road somewhere after he finished his day on the road and he’d move over to the passenger seats, we’d gently chat and then he’d sexily kiss me, pulling me on him so I am straddling him.

Despite him just finishing work and being covered in grease which was a contrast from my just showered freshness, he smelt natural and masculine, not of odour – I breathed him.

God he was hard already feeling his cock through his oil stained jeans, likening the feeling of his denim against my panti-less pussy. Kissing him more, stroking his face admiring those chisel cheek bones and the days dirt that graced them made his eyes greener and gave him that weathered look

He started un-buttoning tightly fitted jacket, whilst I’m gyrating my pussy over his hard on through his jeans, which is riding my skirt up over my arse, my nipples are exposed to the cool night air and he stokes through my cleavage with this rough oil stained hands.

“No bra either!” he celebrates by licking over my pert tits that are covered in goose bumps. My head roles back with the tingling sensation that travels down my spine and I run my hands through his dark waves of hair.

I stand on the seats before him, raising one knee to the side of his head.

“I cannot believe it, your not wearing any pants!”
“You did ask” I giggled

He muzzles my fresh-ness, between my legs, pulling me to his mouth.

“Fuck me, its bold as well, you’ve shaved your cunt, your such a dirty bitch!”

He then ravishes me, sucking , teasing my clit until his tongue reaches between each lip, I gyrate myself again over his mouth and I can feel my juices, crawl to the side of my legs and over his tongue. I have a small spazm of an orgasm, moaning for him to fuck me as he licks my clit faster.

I sit back down on him, gently bouncing on him, “Ohh I want you to fuck me ” I beg, still feeling the hardness of him through his fly, pulling at his button holes, he assists releasing his stiff cock that I badly want to ride.

So I lower my shaven cunt down onto him, slowly, taking him wholly, breaking me in, it felt good and after a few rides up and down his shaft, I was moaning like a banshee, I then spun my self around so that I could fuck him cow-girl style, just like in the porn movie and he grabs for my tits, twisting and pulling at my nipples.

Wanking my clit as I’m riding him brings me so close to a mind blowing orgasm, but he wasn’t letting me do all the hard work, so he pushed me forwards onto the dash board, pulling my skirt over my arse where he caresses my peachy cheeks and slams his cock into me doggy style.

“Your such a great fuck” he says as he entering me again, his big frame makes me feel like rag doll as he roughly fucks me into the dash board, pulling pig tails and building up speed. “Oh that’s it Ben, fuck me” biting my bottom lip.

We both cum like that together, Ben pumping me full of cum and the moment I felt him squirting, it sent shivers down my spine, along with temporary blindness that I often suffer during the height of any good orgasm..

“Oh Ben, your making me cum” and I struggle to open my eyes as the pleasure takes over me, body and soul.

Revenge was bliss, we made love (arguable) and not war.