Back on the Home Front

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This story is entirely fictional. All sexual activity involves consenting adult characters.

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It had been something like eight years since I had last taken that train and the memories that came back, station by station, made me feel that much younger. The timid and confused teenager that fled this place in a nauseating whirl of shame, passion and helplessness that night was scratching at the surface of my skin.

I saw recognition in the eye of everyone on the train. The old fellow with the cough opposite me used to drink in the Conservative Club, I’m sure. The guy in the suit telling his friends on the phone that he’d left work sick and would meet them in the pub. He’d have some stories to tell them if he knew it was me hiding behind the newspaper, surveying from the corner of my eye.

I convinced myself I was worrying for nothing. According to Cookie almost every one had left the Estate now and I wouldn’t recognise the place. The Kelly twins left at twenty two. One is doing fifteen years for his part in a low level but pretty nasty gang war that ended up involving three murders and a rape. The other was well on his way to an overdose when I was still around. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did.

Shelley did well for herself apparently, marrying some Accounts Clerk from the trading estate she met on her first day of work. She always knew how to play the game. She had learned a lot about men, sucking the cocks of her brother’s mates after school, and her brother earned a lot of money from it. Luckily her husband lived outside the bounds of our society, and gossip doesn’t tent to jump class barriers.

Alex and Shannon Green had to change their names and move away after the Social Services paid a call to their parents. Apparently the old rumour from school that they used to fuck each other had reached the ears of the authorities and they had a few questions to ask their mum and dad. What started out as a cruel playground taunt ended up destroying their family. The parents believed the rumours. Cookie says that they left pretty much the next day.

Cookie himself left little over a year ago. His email read like an obituary for the place I grew up in. The Estate was four blocks of flats, facing one another to form a square. Each block was three stories high with four apartments on each level. The inside of the square (we called it The Yard) contained a run down playground that acted as a base of operations for our estates gang. Night or day you could walk down to the yard and get anything from cocaine and a hand job to a gun and a newborn baby.

The overly complicated network of corridors, stairwells and walkways that linked the blocks together stank of stale garbage and cum, and was patrolled by groups of abandoned kids, playing with drugs and knives to pass the time while their mothers drank themselves to death in front of the television.

Cookie paints quite a picture. He was emailed a link to a website one day showing a video of his daughter sucking the dicks of three black kids from the building opposite. They had squealed with laughter every night as he came home from work, but he’d thought that he was just the butt of some harmless joke. He’d got a bit fat recently and kids love fat jokes.

The video had been online for a week and he recognised some of the names of the people who had commented on it. He wasn’t happy, Cookie. He kicked down the front door of the ring-leaders house in a fit of rage. There was a time when Cookies name meant he could walk through any neighbourhood in London without trouble. But this time he got his cheek nicked with the end of a hunting knife and slapped around in front of the whole Estate. Being slapped around by a kid twenty years younger than you in front of your friends and family can destroy a man. He had no choice but to leave really.

My sister Ashley sent me the link to the video. The little girl that I’d met from time to time had become a slutty little eighteen year old. She looked a lot like Cookies wife but at that age she hadn’t developed the huge tits and fat arse of her mother. She sucked cock like her though. The video was filmed on a mobile phone and I imagined I was part of it every time I watched it.

She was wearing a tiny black dress, but looked so young in it that you could be excused for thinking she was wearing it to a fancy dress party. I couldn’t have stretched that little black number over my arm, but she fit into it like a dream.

The video started with lots of hooting and hollering. Lots of talk about skinny ass white girls and big black cocks. I watched it half with dread and 50% excitement. When a huge hand lifted her dress over her arse and pulled her cheeks apart, I imagined how my thick hard prick would feel sliding into that pinched arsehole.

Watching a ten inch black cock slide into your friend’s daughter is something you don’t forget lightly. I lay in my cot in Afghanistan many a night recalling what I’d seen online, my cock in my hand, my muscles tense casino oyna with anticipation.

They called me the Club in the barracks as apparently I could do damage with my cock. It was ten inches from base to the rim of my helmet. The tip itself was fat and twice the girth of the shaft, and right then I had my left hand gripped tightly around it.

I was circumcised so I liked to masturbate with lube, but on occasion I’d “rough” one out, and that night was one of those nights. Both hands under the covers, stroking my rock hard cock while thinking of Cookies girl with a dick in her arse, a dick in her mouth and a dick in each hand.

I often wondered whether Cookie made it to the end of the video, to see his little Emily blowing spunk bubbles out of her nose and thrusting three fingers into her own arse. I assume the skinny white kid in the corner was her boyfriend watching his coke debt get paid off.

The lads in the barracks at Bastion watched every second. They loved the video and I’ve got to admit, it got me hard thinking of how much they loved it. Emily was the most popular girl at camp until I shared my sister Connie’s emails with them. Those are stories for another day though.

It was going to be strange going home without Cookie being there. He didn’t feel a great deal older than me but he’d acted like a father figure ever since I was a child. He was always friends with what ever bloke my mum was fucking at the time so he was always around.

I remember sitting in the kitchen of our flat with him when I was about fourteen, talking about football, while Terry and his mates played naked Twister with Mum in the living room one Christmas Eve. Apparently it ended up with the arrow landing on three dicks in the pink circle. My only other memory of that night is Mums mascara running down her cheek when she came to see me in bed, and the taste of white wine and spunk on her tongue when she kissed me goodnight. He was a good man Cookie.

About four years after I’d joined the army I’d been selected for operations that I can’t really talk about, but they were the kind of jobs that meant you got your affairs in order before you left otherwise they might not get done. After a few attempts at my password I managed to get into my emails and found one from Cookie dated a month after I’d left. It simply read:

“Mate, if I was you, I would have fucked your mum too”

I suppose I should tell you about my childhood.

I have an older sister and three younger sisters. The three young girls grew up to be very different to how I remembered them.

Ashley was twenty six but judging by the pictures I was sent she looked like a clapped out meth addict. My Aunt Charlotte sent me photos of every birthday and family get together and every one showed her gradual decline.

Her fresh innocent face, big green eyes and short cropped brunette hair made her shine out as a rose among thorns in the earlier pictures, but come Christmas 2011 she had bad skin and crooked teeth. She dressed like a whore and had bruised and blotchy skin.

Nearly every photo she was in she was pulling up her skirt to show how she wasn’t wearing any panties. If she was feeling shy she’s just be cupping her breasts, or scratching at her nipples while posing with my little cousin Jane. She reeked of desperation and I imagined her begging for me and pulling her arse cheeks apart every time Auntie Charlotte sent me pictures.

According to Cookie, Ashley works as a stripper at the local pub during the day. If you put a pound coin in a pint glass you can watch her spread her legs and shake her tits. If you’ve got a twenty pound note you can follow her into the toilets and let her wank you off into the toilet bowl. At night she’ll give you a lap dance behind a curtain at the titty bar next to the multi-story car park. Cookie admitted to me that he paid her a fiver extra and she let him come over her tits one time.

Emma is twenty-two, chubby and plain. However, she has enormous sex appeal. She’s the type of girl you would never go out with. Your friends would never rate her and you’d always feel like you could do better. Emma’s definitely the type of girl you’d love to have tied up in your basement though. A girl you’d love to see hogtied on a table with her beautiful, fat tits roped up and bulging, with a ten inch dildo in her pussy.

She developed early and I can remember I dream I’d had about her one night on operations. It was a sleeping bag dream where you’re freezing cold and only half sleep.

I’m laying there on the sofa, propped up on a pillow with Emma lying in front of me. Spooning is the best way to put it, but when it’s your younger sister it’s called hugging or keeping warm. I felt glad to be home with my family in my arms when she pressed her arse into my groin.

I lay there breathing into her neck with my hard-on tucked into the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, while she pulls the palm of my hand across her swollen breasts and positions herself so slot oyna that my fat helmet lay pressed across the wet opening of her pussy.

She arches her back and I feet her warm snatch engulf the top of my penis. Her hot pants and my bottoms are the only thing preventing me from easing into her pussy. My hand is on her hip and with a hooked thumb I’d began to slide her shorts down. My cock ached for the tight warm snatch and I wanted my entire length in her.

It is then that I hear a key scratch into the lock of the front door. My heart freezes. Emma pulls her hot pants up and scrambles to the closest armchair. I grab a cushion and hope it will hide the throbbing helmet underneath.

Mum appears from nowhere and she must sense the tension, she seems quite drunk.

“Oh you dirty little sod,” she snarls as she limps towards me, swinging her handbag. “Ain’t wanking in the bedroom good enough for ya? Gotta watch your sister walk around with her tits out now have you?”

The shame and helplessness I feel is hard to describe. Mum looks much as I remember her.

I’d wake up muttering “She started it!” much to the amusement of the lads on watch.

Constance was eighteen and every bit the baby of the family. The only natural blonde, she stood about 5 foot 2 and was super slim. I’d not seen her in the flesh since she was a little girl, but judging by the photos I’d seen she developed a beautiful, sweet face with shining green eyes.

I hated thinking of her growing up in that place, among a family of tarts, but I soon found out that any worries I had were far too late to do anything about.

After getting back in touch with Cookie after all that time, I’d taken to sending the odd email to a few family and friends. I sent Connie a Happy Birthday email on her seventeenth and got a response that left me cold, and itching to get home.

“Thanx Bro!” Her message read. “Can’t wait to see you!!”

Attached was the first of many pictures that would make Connie the pin-up girl of my Company. It was taken in her bedroom with two friends. She was kneeling upright on her bed with her arms around a friend either side of her. The girls either side were dressed only in knickers and bras.

The girl to Connies left had jet black hair and a little paunch that ran around the waistline of her panties. Her skin was porcelain white except for her blushing cheeks, and the photo seems to have caught her mid-laugh. In her hand she held a dildo, maybe seven inches long, and she was holding it between Connie’s legs. It wasn’t inside her, but simply in front of her pussy to block the view.

To Connie’s right was an amazing blonde who looked much like Connie herself. This girl however had a womans body. She was kneeling with her right side to the camera in a classic pin-up pose. Her thick arse and thighs eased out beneath the weight of her body as she knelt. Her tits were full and heavy, and came together in a wonderful cleavage as she reached forward, cupping Connies breasts in each of her palms. Connie herself wore nothing, just a teenage girl’s pout.

On my Birthday she sent a drunken email, at 3 AM GMT, detailing how she wanted a picture of my cock to show her friends. I still to this day don’t know how she found out about my “Club” but I certainly wasn’t going to send her photos of it. Not the first time she asked any way.

I finally gave up and sent one on her eighteenth birthday. I told her it was just to shut her up, but the truth is that Connie had sent me a picture that morning of her bent over the kitchen table wearing nothing but a vest. Her perfect little bum splayed out for the camera. She was looking back over her shoulder with her finger on her lip. She looked so fine that the butt plug inside her was the last thing I noticed. After all, my eyes were drawn to what was written in lipstck on her back. “Cum Slut”.

It was only fair to send her a picture of how hard it made me. Arrogance made me hold a handgun next to it for scale. I couldn’t find a ruler.

I started getting emails from her friends after that, but never from a member of my family again, not even Connie or Aunt Charlotte. I read about a line of each email and if there was a picture I’d give it a quick look and send it on to a friend. Football and porn are vital for a soldiers morale, so I was well like guy in the forces.

My older sister was called Chelsea. We shared the same Dad and she was a lot closer to me than she was to her half sisters. She’d moved out long before I left for the Army and despite the fact that she was old enough to have taken better care of me growing up, I just couldn’t bring myself to resent her. Chelsea was the first girl that ever made me cum.

I remember the day now through snap shot memories and vague feelings of wrong. Chelsea was eighteen and rake thin. Dressed in a tight salmon pink dress with chocolate brown hair down to her shoulders, she wiggled her arse around on thin bare legs and white stiletto heals a size too big.

It was the canlı casino siteleri summer holidays and for some reason only Chelsea and myself were home. I remember following her around the Estate, scared to be left alone. I must have been fourteen or fifteen and I followed my older sister every where. Unless Mum told her to take care of me (not very likely) then I assume Chelsea had taken it upon herself to be responsible for me, as she tolerated her younger brother all morning.

I remember eating chips in a strange flat on a neighbouring estate with my sisters friend while Chelsea popped out. I remember some guy, must have been nineteen but to me he looked like a full on grown up, walked me out to a playground on the edge of a wooded area. Chelsea was there and looked pretty embarrassed to see me. I was told to stand by the slide and start talking if I saw anyone.

I stood underneath the slide for ten minutes while this boy; Tony apparently, clumsily fingered my sister not 2 feet away from me. She moaned occasionally with forced pleasure and complained more than once that he should go slower. I kept my eyes firmly on the horizon until I heard Chelsea let out a loud gasp that jerked my head around.

I can picture what I saw this very day with perfect clarity. Chelsea was sitting with her legs spread on the bench that was tucked under the wooden triangular hut that supported the slide. This Tony bloke had his whole right fist inside Chelseas cunt. I was mesmerised. My eyes immediately fixed on his wrist bone as it inched in and out of the slit between her legs. I can see how glistening and wet his arm was and how pink and stretchy my sisters pussy looked.

Tony’s left hand was forcing its way into Chelsea’s mouth. She was making gagging noises as he forced four fingers into her mouth, down to the knuckle. His thumb stroked her chin and pushed any spit that escaped her lips back into her mouth.

“Oh, hello!” he laughed when he realised I was watching. “Ain’t you too young to be watching this, boy?”

All I could manage as a response was a shy smile before my eyes went back to Chelseas snatch. It seemed to swallow Tony’s fist so eagerly yet she seemed too small to accommodate it. He slowly and deliberately withdrew his hand from between her legs and shoved it into her mouth, barely letting her catch her breath. His left hand, dripping with my sister’s thick spittle was then forced mercilessly into her pussy.

Chelsea moaned enthusiastically and steadied her hips by adjusting her hands on the bench. It was at this time that I felt a violent push on my shoulder and a voice boomed out.

“Fucking hell! She’ll fuck anything this one.”

I turned to see a face I recognised. John was well know around the area and had a bit of a reputation as a ladies man, although he’d end up doing time for rape eventually. I didn’t know any of this at the time. I just recognised him as the bloke I had to call Uncle John for a few months while he dated Mum.

Before I could even say anything he was rubbing his cock through his jeans and struggling with his belt.

“Let’s take her in the woods,” he said as he grabbed a handful of her hair “half of the Estate is watching you here, Tone.”

Tony muttered his agreement and gave an excited laugh. Chelsea, to my shock, stood up and slid her hand down the front of Johns jeans. Without bending her knees she bent over at the waist and started nuzzling at the bulge that her hands were searching so keenly for.

“Oi, what about me?” interrupted Tony has he pulled her up by her bra strap and spun her around.

Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her face to his and roughly stuck his tongue down her throat. The middle finger of his right hand prodded and probed for her arsehole in a way that was anything but subtle.

As I said, my memory of events it fragmented and disjointed, but before I know it all four of us are in the woods. Chelsea was on her knees with her tight pink dress slid half way up her back. Her white socks were filthy and dead leaves hung to her feet and knees. I can remember the smell of damp wood and mud. I can remember how young my sister looked, as she raised her arse in the air and pulled her butt cheeks apart, kneeling in the dirt.

John slid his palm between Chelseas legs as he knelt behind her, eased two fingers into her pussy and pulled her towards him. She let out a playful yelp but didn’t let it distract her from unzipping Tonys flies. John wasted no time in entering her. I looked on amazed as his cock plunged in to her pussy with no resistance. Chelsea seems not even to notice.

She’d pulled out Tony’s dick and had taken everything in her mouth, balls and all. Her cheeks swelled and spit ran down from the corner of her mouth. Her neck strained and convulsed as she fought her gag reflex. Tony’s hard cock was deep in her throat and John was fucking her relentlessly from behind.

I could feel my cock twitch and ache. I was well on my way to being rock hard and I didn’t have a clue what to do. When I pressed my hand down on the bulge in my trousers my cock reacted by expanding across my thigh. I think of that moment every time I feel my warm cock rest on my cold lap.

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