All Men Are Bastards

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: General Erotica  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Young Verity doesn’t trust guys following a breakup. Two opportunistic groomsmen in her deserted mother’s florist shop quickly position her agile body more creatively than any floral arrangement in her nubile life.

Running a small business Saturday afternoon after four o’clock should be a breeze for anyone.  It’s only a matter of waiting for five o’clock and packing everything up and getting ready to lock the place and leave.  It was so quiet in the arcade in general.  Verity hadn’t seen a window shopper for ages. She started bringing bunches of flowers on the racks outside her mum’s floral business inside about four thirty.  Her mum was doing a major wedding and then reception arrangement and wouldn’t be back. Verity decided to close early. He mum wouldn’t know. She got busy.

She had the outside brackets cleared and the unsold bunches in water out the back. Her mum would collect them on the way to church tomorrow. Verity wouldn’t be accompanying her.  She had the window display cleared of fresh items and replaced by potted ferns.  A nice inviting green look.  There was just the counter to clear and she would be off.  That was done quickly enough.

Oh, water the ferns, then it’s all done.’ she reminded herself.

Though God knows what she thought she was going to do for the evening.  Three weeks past eighteen and still stung by a cheating college ex and feeling unattached. Her mum had maybe done her a favour getting her to help out at the shop a few hours a day over the summer break before starting University.

Her young intellect launched into her current usual post relationship bitching mind set. Verity was doing the: ‘fuck all guys’ mental routine. The ‘all men are bastard’s’ habitual: as she fine mist sprayed the delicate fronds of the maiden hair ferns, the gorgeous thick texture of the massed crocodile ferns, the rich dark staghorn ferns, the sole; copious, radiating, bright green bird’s nest fern, probably her current favourite and a young kangaroo paw fern, probably her least favourite as it reminded her of her own hair, difficult to manage, well it was curly and ginger. Plus ‘Ginger’ was a nickname she didn’t always appreciate, like her personal strawberry patch between her legs; well she was very embarrassingly to self; very unruly, full pubed ginger; down between her shapely thighs.

Verity knew she was guy desperate as she lightly sprayed the fern display. Her girlfriend Carla had told her to calm down a bit, guys would appear and that Verity needed to lose that desperate look in her eyes.  The world wasn’t full of bad boys and hey plenty of bad boys were actually real fun too. Carla was a tramp and that was Verity being nice. Then she was back on her fixation; bad boys are just bastards.

However: Verity knew she secretly liked the arsehole guys. The ones who were mischievous and got your heart racing. Fuck Sean, he only had to keep his dick focussed on her and life would still have been a rage every day. She realised it was probably a tear jerking chick flick alone tonight, The Notebook, for the umpteenth time since her break up with Sean. Her mum would be home; very late.

“Excuse us...Miss...could we have some service please” the deep male voice was behind her.

Verity realised her arse was way bent over into the bay window spraying the ferns. Shit how long had the guy behind her been rump perving.

More than a good minute actually; Gareth and Stephan were both enjoying the display and we are not talking about the ferns here. They were both connoisseurs of femarse and this was quality nubile butt in tight fitting faded jeans. As the young lass turned out of the display window, they took in her full petite form and her appealing curvy chest, her cherry topped muffins only two layers down, a pastel pink t-shirt and a standard bra in the way of nature and male fondling. They were titty aficionados too.

However; above all they were both natural camel toe seekers. Verity’s jeans were hip hugging and skin tight. Too just right, actually from a guy’s perspective.  Gareth and Stephan in sync did the male downward glance and were rewarded with an absolute stunner, a perfectly defined mound.  It was criminal that this chick wasn’t naked because the magnetism, the outline, the definition of her V were actually cock pulsating.  They both would have hit hard on’s in record time; if Verity hadn’t responded back to their initial request for service. Though in their minds what needed servicing had suddenly changed.

They were now both watching the flounce of her untamed curly ginger locks as Verity moved behind the shop counter. Both guys deciding in their minds independently but mentally concurring, some ginger fuzz was a must, between her thighs, given her great light natural hair colour.

“Sorry, was busy but what can I do for you?” and Verity was taking them both in, they were in their early twenties. Both in suits, looking very suave and packing it in their pants by the looks of it. But the roving eyes of the pair, not one big bad wolf, but two, real bad boys for sure.

Stephan: got his eyes up to Verity’s, an act of supreme will and thank god, the cutie was behind the counter now, otherwise he might have launched straight into a bum grope. Though he was glancing up and down from her eyes and bosom because her chesty fluffy pushy creamies were both within easy grasping range; before he got back to her lively, light brown eyes as he blurted his unlikely yarn.

“To cut a long story short” said Stephan, “Two of the bridesmaids in our wedding party, threw a hissy fit at each other over who looked frumpier in their designated gowns and boy did they make a mess, a lot of corsages were all flattened amongst other things and it’s not a pretty sight seeing girls rip each other’s dresses and well yes it is but not at a wedding, well maybe it’s hot, but anyway, we need two corsages for ourselves now; if you can help?”

Verity was smiling, maybe there were as many bitches as bastards out there .Still she felt truly: men were visitors from a bastard planet outside our solar system and women were firmly on earth, well most of the time, no point being on Venus, no cock there and here were two seemingly nice bad guys but how could you really know what they were like? The bastards were probably mentally undressing her right now, the filthy pricks. She was spot on there.

“Well technically its bouts for guys and corsages for girls, so I’d say by your dark suits, a white carnation bud will be ideal?”

“Okay, thanks” they said in near sync, their bad boy minds wandering to red nipple buds.

Verity went out and selected two buds and trimmed them and brought them out.

It was Gareth, the cunning prick, who asked, Verity to please insert the bud on his lapel. He really wanted to insert his cock into the lass, while she was sitting on his lap. But he had a wedding to get back too.

Verity was too male proximate and she knew it, but was actually, decidedly; enjoying it.

Gareth could smell her freshness. Verity could smell his tangy cologne. She was however; so focussed on pinning the flower expertly and not bruising it. Both sets of her delicate, long, well manicured fingers on her hands were manipulating the bud carefully, deftly into place.

Stephan was now too close as well. Taking in the line of Verity’s neck and the shape of her cute fleshy ear lobe and that secret sexy turn on spot behind it.

Verity knew she was male hemmed in, corralled actually; as she adjusted Gareth’s flower perfectly.

Gareth had deflowering on his mind.

Stephan moved in; his moist tongue risking one flick into the crevice of sensitive skin behind the lass’s earlobe. It was either going to be; ‘Piss of you bastard ‘or ‘I like that. you sly bastard.’

Verity gave the murmur of consent. She was pussy putty for a cock sure bastard.

Gareth; was all action man; he removed her salmon pink t-shirt and unclipped her bra, quickly; releasing her chest muffins into free form and ready for free expressive play.

My were her breasts, a salivating, alluring pair. Gareth was sucking and licking and cupping her spongy cup cakes, as if it was the most natural action in the world. Truth is, it is.

Stephan was tracing the rim of her ear. Then he held her fleshy earlobe between his lips for a really generous suck.  Then teased her lobe downwards in a fine stretch; gently with his teeth.  Next he dribbled moisture along the curve of her ear, and then blew softish warmish air, over her so close ridges of sensitive skin.

Verity was rapt; caught in a tingly never before experienced sensation.

However, it was the dirty talk whispered into her ear by Stephan that really aroused her. It was totally unexpected.

“I bet you are so hot right now between your legs. I bet you are so wet between your legs right now. I know you want cock between your legs.”

‘Wow’ was all that passed through Verity’s busy mind, though whether it was the tit attention, the earlobe delight or both, or her trapped wet pussy, or the lot; only she knew.

The pace in the florist shop was moving up a notch rapidly. Or down a notch faster as her jeans button was popped open by Stephan and her skin hugging bright black briefs were also down around her ankles too.

Full furry ginger moss. Captivated males. There was no way they would get back around the corner to the church in time for a wedding now.

Touch spread everywhere; as it does when bodies are fully naked, times three. Verity had her hands full of cock, in front of her and to her side. Gareth had his finger in her moist slit and Stephan; yes men are opportunistic bastards, was rimming her tight, puckering starfish.

Verity’s pussy was excitedly sopping, wet so fast, and quickly dominating the sexually expressive side of herself in the moment. God she loved her coochie and was quickly learning to appreciate what her arsehole could add to bodily pleasure. Thankyou god for bad boys.

The young lass was way out of her depth and way beyond her sexual wish list and flighty, flitty fantasies under the doona in her own bed. Well she never got beyond herself and one guy.

Verity’s coochie was doing its designated job of attracting cock attentively. Gareth was in and it was wild because Stephan had lifted her up and was supporting her thighs from behind. The pecker penetration was awesomely deep and expansively filling. Gareth was stroking, then rapidly pumping, then fully grinding deeply, then nearly withdrawing and plunging right in. Full; sleek, slit satisfaction; building.

‘Closing the shop, hell if she had been too fast, she would have missed this’; thought Verity.

Open shop, open thighs, open pussy, open nubile; sexual expressiveness revealed.

Her sexual need was out there, exposed externally, but her inner self wanted it too; yes the guys were leading but Verity was happy to follow.

“Fuck” our Ginger Miss splurted out as she was flipped up into a standing, upside down; supported; sixty nine position by Stephan.

Verity went instinctively for the cock, perfectly erectly positioned for her waiting greedy lips. Yum, tasty, hard and then she was too busy enjoying herself giving head and trying to encapsulate the pleasure sweeping between her thighs as Stephan’s tongue got busy with her muff.

He was lustfully licking her lovely loose lips, nature’s natural arrangement; pink fleshy artistry; nowhere near even; crinkled flapettes; but more compelling than the most perfect Ikebana arrangement. Stephan buried his face in her awesome pubes. After all what else can a guy do when it’s in your face?

Verity climaxed with shuddering intensity. Her pussy flooding her body with a surge of buzzy warmth, sappy like the summer afternoon.

Stephan had her down on the floor, doggy spread. He speared her red carpet flaps from behind her.

Gareth, at the same time filled her open gaped moaning mouth with fat pecker.

There is an absolute beauty of just life, as a young woman’s legs are spread and she presents herself from behind, to a guy; the vulnerable giving.

The immediate male response is to fill it. Stephan did so with hard manically fast thrusting. This was maximum dual pleasure time. Well treble time actually.

You couldn’t question Verity’s enthusiastic commitment or engagement to the sensually fulfilling instances of cock pumping into her slot between her quivering thighs and her mouth full of ramming, tonsil tickling cock. She expected jizz at both ends. Bad boys don’t disappoint when it comes to spreading the pearl droplets.

Every female body is designed to be fucked but there are just those amazing slut shagging moments when they are fucked absolutely right. So good because it’s so bad. Verity was in one; she was being fucked beyond her dreamt expectations and her second orgasm, an easy matching of her first; made her cunny runny; a delicious, sensitive, mushy sweetness.

Stephan was reduced to his basic cock and balls self; as he unloaded in her ginger muff. Warm, tight and blended natural juices. Male bliss.

Gareth knew she wanted to see his cum spurt into her craving gob. Her hazel eyes watching for the jerk that signalled the soaring wad was compelled to jolt out.

Verity luxuriated in Gareth’s male intensity as she caught his splattered warm splashes in her spacious, insatiable mouth.

Verity looked how a young nubile really should look after sex; beyond the self pleasure, beyond the shared pleasure; a young woman filled up, whole and acutely aware of living; sexually replete.

Well fuck a wedding. Men are true bastards when it comes to women. The pair had ditched their best mate at the altar because after they dressed they stayed and helped Verity shut the shop. Altruism sure, hell no, bad boy cock recovery time.

Gareth and Stephan knew the groom would understand though when he heard of their amazing; unexpected encounter. As he would tell them how he had comforted the two quarrelling bridesmaids sexually before his own wedding service. Yes men are real opportunistic bastards.

Screw the reception too, as the Ginger Miss led the boys to the storeroom.

Fuck an evening by yourself with a chick flick. Verity had the boys out the back of the shop and had moved incredibly quickly from willing flexible playmate to sexual searing huntress. Yes; there is a willing naughty bitch awaiting its release in every demure young woman.


Submitted: July 14, 2017

© Copyright 2021 Janus. All rights reserved.

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The writer is male masterjack. The all is a title generalization. I no more think in reality that all women are bitches had I written that story. Pure escapism erotica. My actual sexual philosophy outlined in my novel here is: Memory is the paraphernalia of life, all the bits and pieces from the vagaries of contact with others, like our eclectic personal possessions. Our genitals are our artwork of life, some hasty scribbles, some doodles, exposed and covered moments, raw expressionism, instances of surreal intensity and brief insight, signed off with our private signature; our orgasms as personal sexual calligraphy. And despite our human posturing or embellishing of or concealing of our genitals, they are our life’s inscription, our genuine bona fide message, as it were, to each other through time and space.
Any feedback on the above story is welcome and appreciated.

Sat, July 15th, 2017 7:10pm

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