24 Hours To Live
Introduction:
What would you do with your last day alive?
Gambling had become a large facet of his life in recent years, Texas Hold’em helping supplement his meagre earnings as a barman. This time, however, he’d taken on the wrong crowd, stepping outside his usual comfort zone. Of course, they allowed him to win the small early pots, reeling him in like a minnow on a hook, but inevitably as the stakes raised quickly things got out of hand, way out of hand. So much so that there was no way Joel could ever repay the debt. And what made matters worse was that the money was owed to one of London’s biggest psychos, gangster boss Mickey Standish.
The first ‘visit’ had been painful, a bit of blood and a little bruising, but no more than a warning. The second put him in hospital, though sadly for Joel only for the night. Whilst the third and most recent ‘visit’ came just last night from Standish himself. This time the violence was psychological rather than physical, the upshot being that he had one day to raise four grand or Joel McCabe would be history.
After one final sleepless night, the grim acceptance of his fate coupled with a feisty determination to make the most of this, his final day on earth, deferred a strange mellowness on Joel as he awoke. His final day on earth… A lump the size of a peach formed in his throat. His final day on earth… The only question that remained was just how to spend it? There were a few things he’d missed out upon in life, yet he rued having not had nearly enough sex. Well, with the grim reaper sharpening his scythe, now to make up for lost time…and how! An evil grin spread across his drawn features. Fuck ’em all, he thought, and to hell with the consequences…
Leaving the house early, Joel surveyed neighbour Cathy, a sexy divorcee two years his senior, on her driveway. About to embark upon on the school run, her two bratty kids were whining like starved puppies as ever. As Cathy bent to cram the youngsters into the car, a globular arse strained at her skirt, the hem riding up her thighs and prompting Joel to stop and stare. Bent double, Cathy’s voluminous red hair tumbled over her face, shielding her from him. As she stood, the flaming mane licked at a pair of expansive breasts that seemed to defy gravity. A flick and it was back behind her shoulders, a hollow smile despatched in Joel’s direction. He grinned inwardly, formulating nasty plans for Cathy for later. Oh yes, perversely he was enjoying this newfound freedom from morality. Firstly, however, Natalie needed to be taught a lesson.
Natalie had always reminded Joel of her namesake, the singer and actress Natalie Imbruglia: the dark wavy hair, doe eyed vulnerability and kissable heart-shaped lips. College sweethearts, somehow they’d conspired to spend seven years together before his brother Pete stole her away. Heartbroken, Joel turned to gambling, trying to convince himself he could live without her. For Christ’s sake, he told himself regularly, she was prim, a little staid at times and spectacularly uninventive in the sack, the queen of missionary. And blowjobs: only after a bellyful of alcohol and a lot of begging would she even consider going down there, and then it was as if she was being fed a vial of poison. Oh yeah, and there was definitely no swallowing.
Yet Joel never had properly gotten over her, the hurt exacerbated by the duplicity of his own flesh-and-blood. Actually he missed Natalie immensely and despised his brother in equal proportion. And…and, had she not walked out on him in the first place, he’d never have turned to cards and not be in this impossible situation now. At least, that was how a mind warped by three weeks of sheer hell justified the wanton act of vengeance he was about to impart. Oh yeah, it was payback time all right, thanks largely to some pictures that had come into his possession a little while back.
It was Natalie that opened the door, skin like silk despite the hour and looking as good, if not better, as the day they’d first met. A petite five feet two with smallish breasts and the most gorgeous jet eyes, Natalie turned heads wherever she went. In fact, Joel had to concede that she and his older brother made a great-looking couple. So quite why she’d messed around behind Pete’s back, God only knew. One thing was for sure: she’d live to regret the indiscretion. Suddenly Joel didn’t feel quite so bad, enamoured with the sort of buzz he’d rarely experienced in years. Who said two wrongs didn’t make a right?
Natalie’s pretty features darkened when Joel was revealed on the step, grudgingly allowing him inside. Darting around in his boxer shorts, Pete issued a hasty greeting before heading to the downstairs shower. “Take care of Joel,” Pete entreated in hollow tones from within, the order met with a thin smile from Natalie and a devilish grin from Joel.
Dismissing the offer of a cup of coffee, hearing the shower crank into action Joel wasted no time getting down to business, speaking in revered tones: “You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you Natalie?”
Her look spoke for itself: “What the hell are you talking about?”
Joel raised an eyebrow, exuding the same confidence reserved for weaker opponents at the card table. And with Natalie he had the stone cold nuts. Removing the mobile phone from his pocket, he beckoned her over. Initially reluctant, a barked prompt forced her to take him seriously. “On my lap,” he ordered, as more defiance clouded her black eyes. “SIT THE FUCK DOWN.”
Natalie glanced over at the shower door as Joel reached to cradle the descending arse, her scent pleasing on the nostrils, her look one of sexy office chic: a sheer white shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt, stockings and clicky heels. Immediately Joel was filled with regret. He should never have let her go. Yet, perched uncomfortably on his knee she was like a stranger instead of the girl with whom he’d spent seven years.
A series of stills flashed before a pretty face that quickly showed a combination of shock and horror, reflected back from the small screen. A slideshow of compromising positions, she had little mitigation. “You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you Natalie?” Joel reiterated.
“What is it y-you w-want?” she stammered.
Joel grinned as his beautiful ex glanced anxiously aside, the water still cascading from inside the shower room. “To do what I should have done years ago,” he replied simply. “Well, you know what happens to naughty girls…”
Uneasily she shifted in his lap, held in place by a firm arm around the middle, soft buttocks brushing his groin. He expected more fight from the once feisty little vixen, surprised when she said simply: “Okay, get it over with quick, you freak. And do it before Pete catches us and punches your head in.”
Without further prompting she rotated, belly pressed to his thighs, arse raised slightly, palms flat on the sofa one side, toes the other. Joel stroked the top of each thigh, between stocking tops and panties, fingers kneading the soft skin like a baker. Hand lingering on her arse, savouring the feel and sight, he ran a finger the length of the crack, pushing the panties in gently. Issuing a sigh of contentment, Joel hooked his thumbs through the waistband and slid the cream coloured undies to her knees. With a careful hand, so as not to crease, he rolled the tail of the silky shirt up her back exposing a curvaceous backside. Natalie’s body tensed in anticipation, breath held tight, a pulse racing to a cock that rubbed hard against the canvas-like material of the jogging bottoms. Slowly his hand elevated from her buttocks, hovering at shoulder height.
Splash, splash, splash went the water. SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, went his palm. “Ow, ow, ow,” went the girl, sucking in a mouthful of air and biting her bottom lip, a little pink handprint colouring her buttocks.
When the stinging had died, Joel issued a fresh volley of smacks, Natalie’s body jerking in unison. Tears welled in her eyes, though as much for the humiliation as the pain. She could not, however, hide the treacherous dampness at her loins that dabbed at her ex’s thigh as her body bucked with each smack. Joel smiled, experiencing a similar tingle of arousal, a blob of precum oozing from the eye of his throbbing bloodshot head.
Sadly there was little time to savour the experience and the spanking was foreshortened. A good beating from his brother on his final day on earth was not really part of the agenda. Oh no, he had so much more nastiness in mind and other acts of depravity to impart before the end. “Now get on your knees,” he ordered, dropping his joggers and taking the semi-flaccid cock in hand.
Natalie did so unquestioningly, kneeling before him, surveying the inflating cock with disdain as Joel stroked back and forth. Suddenly the shower flow ceased and she looked up pleadingly, doe-eyes appealing for clemency. Joel merely shook his head and gestured her closer. He knew damn well Pete needed time to dry, to brush his teeth, to shave and to preen himself. There was PLENTY of time, plenty.
Natalie didn’t seem to share the optimism, willing an early end to the ordeal before it had even begun, fingers reaching urgently for his cock, craning to bring it to her soft lips. Hot breath warmed the tip, eliciting another blob of precum. Christ, if only it had been this simple back in the days, Joel thought. The fact she detested the act merely made him harder and more aroused. Immediately those pouting lips clamped the head, an eager tongue flicking the eye and tasting the saline seed. “Oh yeah, that’s it, baby,” Joel moaned.
Natalie’s tongue circled, finding the underside of the purple tip, as a cupped hand stroked the shaft back and forth, causing Joel’s eyes to roll in pleasant surprise. The intervening years had served her well, producing a deft little cocksucker. Over and over the velveteen tongue worked, making Joel’s lips purse and words of encouragement to spill from them. Natalie’s acrid look did not escape his attention, prompting a further rush of precum to blend with her saliva as, from inside the shower, the sound of slapped flesh matched that in the living room. “If you don’t get a move on he’s gonna catch us,” teased Joel, the idea of being caught a greater turn-on than he’d envisaged.
Reaching out, he stroked Natalie’s hair lovingly, combing it through his fingers. Their eyes locked briefly and he smiled. At this rate he could go on forever, and Natalie realised it too, speeding up, supplementing the oral attention by fondling his balls, in a vain attempt to bring the climax closer. Joel’s mouth formed an ‘O’ of appreciation, his breath staccato, yet his orgasm distant. In desperation, Natalie’s mouth worked up and down the shaft at a rapid pace, face dipping and rising like a piston as she battled to make him cum before they were rumbled.
A spray of deodorant from the bathroom warned that Pete was mere moments away from exit, her saliva glands working overtime to keep the cock in her mouth lubricated and moving. Joel groaned, at last feeling the first itch in his balls and the approach of orgasm. Yet he held back defiantly, torturing the girl to extremes. Her face pleaded for an end to the ordeal that would only arrive with his ejaculation.
Wiling to do anything now, Natalie strained to recall what used to drive him over the edge when they were together, a glint of remembrance in her dark pupils. Letting the rock hard cock slip from her mouth, she guided her tongue the length of the shaft, over the balls and perineum, before pulling up at the entrance to his arse, tongue brushing the wisp of hairs. Joel groaned, fingers vice-like in her hair. “Oh yeah, baby,” he breathed as she curled the tip and flicked at the puckered ring. “Lick my aesehole you filthy little slut.”
Natalie raged inside, one eye on the shower door as her tongue pressed inside, dabbing lightly. An unexpected pleasure, the sensation drove Joel crazy. Round and round, in and out flicked her dainty tongue as she jerked the hard cock with a hand, willing him to cum. Joel could hold on no longer, his balls aching, yet there was one final important indignity to impart before he was done. With Natalie’s face vacuumed to his ring, his cock sliding through a cupped hand, he was badly positioned as the cum rushed from his bollocks. He literally had to lift her head by the hair to impale the mouth back on his cock before he came in a jet.
Natalie glanced anxiously aside, the handle on the door rotating, as wad upon wad of thick cream pumped into her mouth. Joel groaned, cock softening instantly and sliding out. The door opposite opened and Natalie jumped up like a shot, cheeks inflated.
Joel’s jogging bottoms were wrenched up quickly and back in place before Pete glanced over from across the hall. Out of sight of her boyfriend, Natalie hopped about the room like it was covered by hot coals, wrestling with her panties and skirt, mouth still churning his cum, reluctant to swallow. This was some predicament for the prim girl: spit and risk discovery or swallow against her principles but at least dispose of the evidence. As Pete entered the living room, she had no option other than to gulp it down, cheekbones rising, eyes slanting, neck expanding in horror as Joel’s spunk filled her belly.
“What was it you wanted?” Pete enquired casually of his brother.
“I was just passing, thought I’d say hi.”
Pete snorted. “You never just say hi, Joel, there’s always an ulterior motive. What is it you want – money?”
Joel raised his hands in contrition. “Nope.”
Natalie looked on, holding her breath. Pete turned, heading back to the shower room.
Heart beating at her left breast, Natalie implored Joel with her eyes not to betray her. With Pete out of sight once more, Joel lowered his joggers, drawing back the foreskin to reveal a cumstained head. Natalie’s face dropped in anguish and she went to protest before being stopped short. “You gotta finish the job,” he grinned.
“No way,” the redfaced girl retorted.
Joel flashed the phone holding the evidence of her cheating. “DO IT.”
Realising the hopelessness of the situation, quickly Natalie dropped to her knees, sucking at the tip and vacuuming up all the excess sperm. Her tongue made him semi-hard once more, yet the risk far outweighed the gain, besides which Joel’s thoughts had already turned elsewhere.
“Happy now?” she glowered.
“Very,” he responded with a sly grin.
And he was, in an odd kind of way. “I’ll keep the phone,” he said. “Don’t fuck my brother around again, or else he gets the pics, okay?”
Natalie bowed her head, nodding subserviently, startling when Pete reappeared.
Joel followed the pair out of their house, his head a mess of mixed feelings. Whilst he had no wish to die in the prime of life, if Mickey Standish’s death sentence made things like that possible to achieve, his inhibitions shot to pieces by hedonism, how much further could he go? There was the rest of the day to find out. And Joel intended to – fully, mind focussing on his next victim.
Part 2 will follow shortly.
