The Locker Pt2

The locker room was as she'd left it, even the remains of the girlie mag where still strewn on the floor where she'd dropped it before her hasty departure. Like taking the plunge she took a deep breath and unbuttoned her blouse reaching for the locker key hanging from the silver chain around her neck. Nervous fingers fumbled and bumped into her breasts in their quest. The little key rattled in the lock, then... there was that exquisite smell of leather and tobacco. She reached down and unlaced her trainers, the sensation of her bare feet on the icy concrete floor covered her in goosepimples. 


Her fingers clasped the fastening of her jean's waistband, hesitating for a few seconds to test the silence and make a last visual sweep of the shattered interior. The zip glided open and Gwen wriggled the tight jeans off, one leg at a time. Hopping a little awkwardly to free herself from the stubborn garment she giggled nervously at the comedy, regaining her composure, she slipped off her sensible panties folding them up on the top shelf her jeans hung up in the locker. She reached down and pulled out a shoebox from the back of the locker. From the shelf above, she delicately pick up the little package from Rosa's. 


She bit her lip as she tested the black high heels, normally Gwen would be in trainers or wellies but not tonight. Her raised heels made her feel daring like the city girls she had seen on reality tv shows parading themselves about town centres drunk and shameless. The tiny g-string slipped over her thighs, the string slipping into the cleft of her bottom, she felt a thrill rush through her. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her blouse cuffs, she took another deep breath and freed one shoulder then the other letting the blouse fall away. She nearly orgasmed as she unclasped her bra and felt her breasts pull free and sway in the cool air that now seemed to caress her erect nipples. Blouse and brassier were carefully folded and hung in the locker. 


Gwen's eyes rested on the photo of the bound and gagged nude for a moment then she closed the door and locked it, hanging the key chain around her neck. She made her way down the shattered corridors. The stiletto heels tapped provocatively on the tiled floor, making her smile. At the far end were the old washrooms. The far wall was made up of a full length mirror. She watched her  reflection as she turned, the light sculpting her naked form.  She pulled in her already flat stomach, her fingers moulded  themselves  over her breasts the nipples erect with cold and  excitement. 'Yes' she mouthed provocatively at the whore in the reflection. Her forefinger traced the triangle of black lace that enclosed freshly shaven pussy.  Shivering, she blew herself a kiss.

The Locker...

The building wasn't as exciting in the stark daylight. Gwen made her way through the dusty passages. In the corner of the warehouse were the offices, now shattered and vandalised. Glass crunched as she picked her way through the debris to a back room. Smashed tables and chairs were in a pile at one end of the office, at the other were some old wooden lockers. Gwen felt an beginings of that familiar excited tension in her stomach. The locker in the corner had escaped the worst excesses of the vandals and stood virtually intact. Gwen pulled away her hardboard camouflage away to check for any interference. She ran her fingers over the lock, it was untouched. Under her tee shirt, around her neck hung the key. 


The locked clicked and she swung the cupboard door open, releasing a cocktail of scents; tobacco, sweat, rubber, leather, men. Plastered over the inside  of the narrow door were pin-up girls of the late sixties. The faded g-string beauties gave the place a seedy, men-only atmosphere. From the poacher pocket of her Barbour she pulled a  little bag emblazoned with the logo, 'Rosa's Lingerie'. She peeped in at the contents, a pair of lacey black briefs. A creaking noise from the corridor made her freeze, her heart  pounded with fear. Her brain accelerated into the construction  of a bogus explanation of her presence in the building. She listened for what seemed an eternity for human signs, footsteps  or voices, but there was nothing. 


The locker was divided into two; a main compartment and a shelf. Gwen carefully placed the little bag at the back of the shelf next to an enamel mug. She smiled as she flicked through the girlie magazine. It was a collection of soft porn photographs purporting to illustrate the secret fantasies of the reader's wives. She tore one of the pictures out and pinned it amongst the others on the locker door. Gwen stared at the image. In the picture the woman was naked save for black suspenders, stockings and high heels. She was gagged and her hands and ankles fixed in an elaborate leather harness. Her pleading eyes were fixed on her captor. Gwen suddenly felt the urge to get clear of the  place, she locked the door and made her way out to the County.

Bad Girl Films presents:

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Cristina Pedroche

Kate Beckinsale

Carmen Electra

Audrina Patridge

Annalynne McCord

Sienna Miller

Stacy Keibler

Victoria Silvsted

Short circuit....

Breathing deepens to a moan of pleasure, fingers search out the ever present triggers of ecstasy. Gently at first, gathering the hardening buttons into tiny points, feeling that surge of sexual electricity that short circuits the boundaries of Drabworld. Lashes close to raise the carnal red velvet curtain on the tawdry strip club stage of my dark inner self; the strutting slut in a dark alleyway, the innocent bimbo bound and gagged by the slavering, sex starved gang, the horny housemaid caught using Mistress's dildo....

a girlie sigh from parted lips, harder now pulling and twisting as the charge increases it's potency, my hips writhe, moans form into gasps. Heels raised high on black spike heels, legs parted like a harlot, back arched like whore. Pain morphs into pleasure in this ritual bargain struck deep in my perverted libido......poor victim or willing accomplice....the pleasure scales sway like my hips, inviting and provocative.

Rosebud...

satin glides over linen, nylon whispers against nylon, my fingers caress and encourage, a g-string cleaves my tight little rosebud. My own hands coerce and tease, they are the agents of my deepest, darkest desires. I arch and oblige, they part my cheeks to display for inspection my pouting pussyhole.....

in the dark corners......

The early morning light crept through the blinds and caressed my eyelids.....

.....half awake now, I shift my body, brushing the cool hotel linen provocatively over my nipples. I stretch and sigh as my clitty responds as it always does, hardening to a perfect uncut teeny clitty. I ease back the white sheet to reveal my freshly smooth body, my legs scissor savouring the silky smoothness as they glide over one another. I lightly run my finger tips over the length of my lush body shuddering with excitement, they stray down over my belly below the tiny triangle of pubic hair to where my clitty bounces eagerly. I flex and writhe as my fingers tease my shiny glans, imagining cock enfolded by my lips in eager tonguing kisses. I flip over, reaching under to stroke as I arch my back and feel my cheeks part slightly and my pussyhole pout. It's a delicate, tightly furled rosebud that longs to be filled and stretched. I gasp my way to orgasm as lurid images from the dark corners of my mind flash behind my eyes......

Jessica Alba

Vida Guerra

Kim Kardashian

Estella Warren

Emmanuelle Chriqui

Electra Avellan

Bar Rafaeli