A hard working girl

    *** This story is based on the experiences of Miss Sharon Henderson ***

        ‘What is life all about?  I wish somebody would tell me, someone

   whose opinion I respect, that is.  Until that happens, I can only be-

   lieve that life is just one hard slog from start to end.

        I’m now twenty-one, and for the past two years my weekly routine

   has hardly changed.  Monday to Friday I study medicine at University

   where I am a live-in student, and the evenings are spent doing tutorials

   or catching up on some writing.  I hope one day to be a hospital con-

   sultant but have a further three years to go in order to get my degree.

        Saturdays I work from ten until six as a checkout operator at my

   local Sainsburys to supplement my grant, which means by Saturday night I

   am absolutely fed up with work.  I’ve found the only way I can cope is

   to just let go and enjoy myself for a few hours, which for me means get-

   ting screwed, hard and as often as possible.

        Since coming up to Cambridge I’ve had sex with an awful lot of men

   and been called a slag many times, but I don’t care.  So long as I can

   fuck my brains out between Saturday night and Monday morning, I can face

   the week ahead with my soul refreshed.  Its so good for the complexion

   too, and the few blemishes that I used to have are now gone, leaving me

   with peachy perfect skin.  I’d recommend any girl to fuck as much as she

   can while she’s young and horny, and ignore the stupid do-gooders who’re

   only jealous anyway.  By now I must’ve persuaded dozens of young girls

   to become as sexually promiscuous as I like to be, and whenever we meet

   they all look really lovely now and are enjoying life to the full.

        Every Saturday after work I cycle back to the hall of residence and

   have a lazy soak in the bath before preparing myself.  When I’ve dried

   myself I rub masses of body lotion into my skin, paying particular at-

   tention to my tits, cunt lips and arse.  By the time I have finished,

   my boobs glow like rich creamy globes, each topped with a rigid brown

   teat begging to be sucked, and as my puffy lips protrude down from my

   cunt a really horny sex-loving feeling starts to permeate my crotch.

        After brushing my hair and putting the minimum of make-up on my

   face, I then dab Chanel 19 onto a few crucial areas of skin before get-

   ting dressed.  The objective is to get noticed, so I don a flimsy pink

   lace-up camisole with suspenders attached, stockings with the words

   “love” and “sex” tracing a pattern up to the thigh, and a very brief

   wrap-over skirt which blows open to the waist.  My full milky breasts

   and hard brown nipples are left completely visible through the sheer ma-

   terial of the camisole top, while sexy high heeled shoes complete my

   wanton appearance.

        To save money I usually catch a bus to my first call, and ignore

   all the looks, nudges and stares from the other passengers.  My destina-

   tion is a working mens hostel in the cheapest part of town.  I’ve become

   well known there for my Saturday night visits and a crowd normally gath-

   ers by the time I arrive at about seven-thirty.  There are two large

   dormitory type rooms and I make my way into one or the other, then take

   off my skirt before I lie back on one of the beds, spread my slendour

   legs wide apart and frig my bare cunt until the juices bubble out.

        The men there are mostly labourers working away from home, and I

   love their down-to-earth dirty language with “fuck” and “cunt” in almost

   every sentence.  Usually, it doesn’t take many minutes of fingering my

   pussy before some of the bolder ones make a move, and I love to just lie

   there while they take turns at pumping hot spunk into my womb.  Ooh,

   just thinking about it now brings a tingle to my randy cock-loving cunt.

   At weekends I’ll fuck anyone to get lots of spunk into me and I never

   care what the men look like as they’re reasonably clean, their cocks get

   hard and they can shoot plenty of cum.

        Last Saturday was about average and of the thirty or so men present

   about a third of them were spunky enough to give me a sound fucking.

   The best night had been a couple of weeks earlier when a crowd of Dutch-

   men swelled the numbers and I ended up having seventeen of them.  They

   were really into dirty sex, which is something I adore, and they took

   turns shoving their sweaty cocks deep into my wet cunt before having me

   suck them off.  I then let their cum dribble out my mouth into a jug,

   and they finally poured it all into a large syringe before injecting all

   their spunk and my saliva deep inside my horny sperm-loving body.

        Their customary routine is to get drunk most nights, and by nine

   o’clock most of them have drifted off to a working mens club nearby, so

   I re-fasten my little skirt and set off in the other direction. 

   Naturally, by then spunk is streaming down the insides of both my

   thighs.  Now I know some girls would use tissues or something to mop

   themselves up, but I like being reminded of sex and just letting their

   juice leak out freely and run down both my legs is the best reminder of

   all.