Night Out
“You’re not fucking going out like that, you slut!” Screamed Bunny’s mum as she made her way to the door of their small flat. “You look like a fucking whore!”
“Oh fuck off, Mum!” Bunny screamed back at her mum. “I’ll wear what I fucking like!”
“Or not wear! Don’t you have any fucking knickers? Or are you gonna show your cunt to every fucker?”
“Fuck off!” Sneered Bunny. “You can’t tell me what to fucking do or wear!”
She glanced at her image in the hall mirror, half of which was obscured by piles of old magazines her mum hadn’t bothered to chuck out. Her face was heavily mascara’d and her lips were painted a very deep purple, but no amount of make-up could disguise the dark freckles around her nose and forehead. Her light brown hair was pulled off her face and held back by a large clip. Although they couldn’t be seen in the mirror, she sported brown, rubber-sole boots laced half-way up her calf. She also wore a black sleeveless tee-shirt with the word ‘CUNT’ artistically arranged in the middle of it, but it wasn’t that which annoyed her mum. It wasn’t her fault if the old cow couldn’t keep up with fashion, but Bunny knew that if you didn’t flash the gash in this neighbourhood you were fucking nobody, girlfriend! And it wasn’t as if she shaved it like some tarts. She kept the hair long enough so you had to get real close to be sure you could see the lips and clit and all. And her inner lips didn’t drop out like some fucking inner tube like some sad bitches.
“Don’t be back late!” yelled her mum, as Bunny slammed the door behind her and made her way out of the estate, past the graffiti on the walls and discarded needles and rubbers in the gutter, towards the spot by the park where she and her gang would meet for their night out. And there they were, or at least some of them, hanging out by the park bench near the lamp post where they’d carved their gang’s initials.
There was Puss, with her shaved gash, fat-thighed Rosanne and skinny, hairy twatted Dilly. The three girls sat around bored and sullen, knickerless, booted and with similar sleeveless tee-shirts. Puss looked up from her desultory stroking of the smooth shaven skin of her crotch and smiled at Bunny as she approached.
[Read more →]
Tags: erotic stories by admin
No Comments »