After my divorce, I took control of the family home but found the mortgage overwhelming, given my meagre income from teaching at university. As a result, I reluctantly took in two housemates to make ends meet. Ryan, from Adelaide, working in Perth, was an awesome discover, and we quickly became friends. The second pick was Shane, who was a fly-in, fly-out (FIFO) mine worker, earning big coin and was only at the house two weeks out of every six.

Shane was a fine housemate, but he had a drug habit. What concerned me the most was the shady characters that turned up within hours of Shane returning home holding bags of weed. Shane would weigh the bag in the kitchen for several tense minutes before handing over the money. Within forty-eight hours before boarding the plane back to the mine site, Shane would go cold turkey, drugs and alcohol, making him moody and irritable.

The one saving grace was Shane’s girlfriend, who worked magic to take the edge off his cravings. They were planning marriage in the new year, and in early January, Shane and his girlfriend planned a holiday in Margaret River for several weeks. Several days before his expected return from the Pilbara, he sent me a text asking me to take delivery of an extra-large bag of Mary Jane.

Needless to say, Shane’s request left me feeling uncomfortable, to say the least. I was unhappy that his dealers came to my house to transact illegal deals. Now, I was asked to incriminate myself for his habit. I took several hours before replying, and Shane, sensing my reticence, added an additional cryptic text promising a worthwhile reward.

I eventually and reluctantly agreed to Shane’s request. I was given instructions, such as to weigh the bag when it was handed over. My bank profile was boosted by an extra $500. Geebus, I wondered to myself, how big was this bag of weed that Shane ordered? I suddenly had an attack of nerves, imagining an unmarked police car parked at the bottom of the street, photographing every illicit drug deal.

Despite the cool spring air, I was sweating profusely, almost apoplectic with nerves. My tense nature was not helped because the courier missed the 6 PM deadline. Minutes ticked by, and I could not help myself from pacing back and forth to the street. There were no suspicious cars with blacked-out windows parked on the street, but that did not improve my state of mind.

About twenty minutes later, I heard a car pull up and enter my driveway. Peering from the flyscreen at my front door, I saw a late model cream-coloured Holden Tarana pull in behind my Landcruiser. The air of familiarity irritated me for a second. I stepped away and grabbed the scales from the kitchen.

There was a firm knock on the flyscreen, followed by a “hello” delivered in an amused schoolgirl voice. To be honest, I was expecting some heavily tattooed gorilla to turn up, as these had been the calibre of previous couriers that Shane dealt with.

“Hi, I’m coming,” I said, flustered.

“Not too soon, I hope,” This latest courier giggled in a faux adolescent demeanour.

“I’m Jason; nice to meet you,” I said as I stepped across the front door and onto the porch.

“My name is Michelle,” Said this very young-looking girl, dressed in a bikini top, denim shorts and cheap yellow flip-flops, “But I prefer Chelle.”

“Chelle, it is then,” I smiled, recovering some of my natural poise, “I understand you have a delivery for Shane?”

“Yes, indeed,” Chelle reached into her hemp bag that was strung across her shoulder and produced the biggest bag of Ganja I had ever seen.

“You want to weigh it?” She chuckled at my stupefied facial expression.

I placed the scales on the porch and dropped the bag onto the weighing plate. The bag was a couple of grams over the agreed weight, but Chelle readily accepted the $500. As she did so, I thought if she was the reward that Shane cryptically promised earlier in the week for closing his nefarious transaction.

Chelle was not hurrying to leave but stood on the porch grinning at me, expecting me to say something. She had pale skin, perhaps B-cup boobs with hard nipples that poked through the bikini fabric. There were no tattoos, and the only piercings were in her ears.

Tall, just an inch or two below me, Chelle sported a fantastic body, but the face was not a standout. Her hair was brown that hung in ringlets, hazel eyes that sparkled in the dying light, a wide mouth, high cheekbones and a button nose. If Chelle had passed me on Hay St Mall or at the Broken Hill Hotel, she would not have especially turned my head.

“Shane tells me you can be quite naughty,” She giggled, suddenly breaking the ice.

“Naughty?” I asked with a knowing smile, “How old are you?”

“I’m only nineteen,” She smiled, shaking her hips, “And I like to be naughty too.”

“Shit!” I exclaimed, “Do you know how old I am?”

“Oh yes!” Chelle grinned, “Older men drive me wild.”

“I’m old enough to be your…”

“Father?” Chelle finished my cliched sentence, “I’ve fucked men my grandfather’s age. Best sex ever!”

“Is that so?” I said, keenly aware of the bulge that was growing in my jeans, “So what naughty things do you like?”

“Well,” Chelle giggled, before pouting provocatively, “I love to be spanked. I love to be pissed on, and I enjoy my arse being used for old men’s pleasure.”

“You’re nineteen, and you have those fetishes?” I asked, incredulous at Chelle’s confession, “I’d love to hear the story about how you got into those kinks.”

“Good girls will tell you a bullshit story,” Chelle gave another high-pitched schoolgirl chuckle, “But bad girls, like me, will tell you an incriminating story.”

“Has your whole life been on the wrong side of the law?” I asked with a smile while holding up the bag of hash.

“If anyone knew the truth of my deflowering, they would be six feet under.”

“They?” I asked, intrigued.

“I seduced a married man when I was…young.”

“How young?” I asked.

“Very young,” Chelle replied and pulled aside her bikini top to reveal a perky set of tits which she pulled on, “A few years before I got these.”

Holy shit, I wondered to myself. Rather than speculating or asking for more information, I stopped that line of inquiry.

“So,” Chelle said, drawing out the ‘o’, “Shane tells me you like the same things as me.”

“I am partial to those sex acts,” I chuckled, “They are somewhat specialised.”

“I know, right?” Chelle said earnestly, “That’s why I go for older men; they are way more experienced and…kinky.”

“All these old men spank you, piss on you and fuck you in the arse?”

“Rare to find a real man that’ll do all three,” Chelle giggled, “But the boys my age won’t do any, and that sucks.”

“You still fuck the boys, though, don’t you?”

“All the time,” Chelle shrieked with laughter, “Shit, I blew two boys this morning and took a load in my pussy at lunch.”

“No anal?”

“Not yet,” Chelle grinned at me seductively, “Do you think I’m a slut?”

“If I did, would my shot at your nineteen-year-old arse be at risk?”

“Not at all!” Came an emphatic reply.

“Then yes, I think you a slut,” I said, “But an awesome slut!”

Chelle seemed pleased with this backhand compliment and shook with nervous energy.

“So, what do you want to do?” I asked, rubbing my cock, which was fully hard.

“You want to watch me pee?” Chelle giggled, and, without waiting for my reply, she hitched up her denim shorts to reveal a hairless, panty-less snatch.

Moments later, the nubile drug courier released a stream of yellow nectar on my front deck and laughed at my dumbfounded expression.

“Look,” She crowed, “I’m peeing on your porch.”

“Yes, I can see that!” I replied, whipping out my cock and rubbing the shaft.

“Feels so good,” She sighed, head back with closed eyes, “Love it when real men watch me go potty.”

As her stream slowed, Chelle placed her hand just above her pussy, and a finger snaked down to titillate her engorged clit. Seconds later, I observed an orgasmic shudder ripple through her body.

“Wow!” I said once the piss flow ended, “Can I taste?”

“Only if you want sloppy seconds,” Chelle giggled while spreading her meaty lips, fingering inside and producing several droplets of sperm.

“How recent was that?” I asked, amazed at this girl’s brazen promiscuity.

“Lunchtime, silly.”

Chelle sucked her fingers dry before proudly telling me she loved the taste of man juice. It’s her second favourite drink.

“What’s your first?” I asked, thinking it would be piss or some alcoholic drink, most likely bourbon.

“Jacks, of course.”

“Turn around,” I said, “And let’s have a look at that nineteen-year-old arse.”

With her denim skirt, Chelle hitched up to her waist, spun around, and gripped a wooden pillar that supported the bullnose awning, bending slightly and sticking her butt in my direction.

Several cars roared by, but none seemed interested in the hardcore action that was about to start. However, they served as reminders of my paranoia about the illegal drug deal that had gone down. Indeed, the bag of weed was still perched on the kitchen scales by the front door!

I dropped to my knees and grabbed her fleshy cheeks with both hands. Parting those pale globes revealed a beautifully wrinkled aperture. Chelle’s meaty lips expelled several drops of golden piss which dribbled down her inner thighs.

“Oh, yeah!” She groaned as my wet tongue lapped at her pucker.

Chelle’s arsehole tasted of soap but that soon gave way to a more natural aroma as I repeatedly stabbed the tip of my tongue into the faintest of openings. She flexed her dirty hole, eager it to swallow the finger that I used to probe her O-ring which was slicker after I applied generous amounts of saliva.

“You like to get treated like a whore?” I asked rhetorically after I landed blow on her right cheek.

“All the time,” She squealed as her cheek welted from the slap.

“How about I start arse fucking you straight away?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

I stood up, applied a little spit to my shaft and pressed against Chelle’s backdoor. Surprisingly, she took my full length easily and I was quickly balls deep. Without waiting for her to adjust to the foreign invasion, I grabbed both hips and began fucking Chelle with long and deep strokes.

“Say fuck my shithole,” I hissed as I savagely worked her wrong ‘un.

Chelle repeated my insult and several others including confessing to being a little slut and an anal whore.

There was no limit to Chelle’s degradation. I grabbed her hair hard, craning her neck backwards. As she moaned in pleasure, I coughed up a large amount of saliva and spat it directly into her open maw.

“So, you like to be slapped?”

“Oh, yeah,” Chelle muttered, “Hard.”

I slapped her face before landing another, more significant, blow to her left arse cheek.

“This is how you fuck a little whore,” I repeated as my rock hard cock smashed Chelle’s backdoor with the least amount of lubrication.

“Fuck me like a whore, Jason,” She repeated over again as she bent her knees slightly to give me easier access.

I pummeled her dirty hole for perhaps a minute while we traded insults before withdrawing my cock.

“Take my cock right out of your arse and jam in right down your throat,” I growled as Chelle dropped to her knees an took my funky length in her mouth without hesitation.

Chelle swallowed my cock down to the base and made guttural noises as the head brushed against the back of her throat. Her eyes sparkled when she looked up at me, struggling hard to breathe.

“You thirsty, Chelle?” I asked as I roughly withdrew my saliva coated cock from her mouth.

“Uh, huh,” She confirmed.

“Yeah, you’re thirsty, aren’t you?” I crowed as I slapped her face again to enthusiastic approval.

“Good, because you can drink some piss, you little whore!”

Chelle leaned back against the wooden pillar, opened her mouth wide and dangled her tongue in front of me.

“Open your eyes and look at me, Chelle,” I demanded moments before my cock shot out some hot piss and splashed across her reddened face cheeks.

Regularising my plumbing with a hard-on is not an easy task, but once I achieved it, I could direct streams of piss on demand. Placing my cock head closer to Chelle’s open mouth I quickly filled that void.

“Drink it,” I hissed, “Swallow every drop.”

Chelle complied without question. She took down several mouthfuls and allowed my hot piss to splash across her face, hair and tits. This young woman was the real deal and would make a fortune in a strip club or in porn.

“Do you let strangers you just me piss on your face?” I asked knowing the answer.

“Oh, yeah!”

“Gargle it, cunt!”

Chelle complied and cheekily spat my piss back at my cock.

I filled her mouth for the final time. She gargled again and made the piss bubble in her mouth before running in streams from both sides of her mouth. The residual was greedily swallowed before Chelle resumed throating my cock.

“Look, there are people walking their dog on the other side of the road,” I observed, “But they can’t see us.”

Chelle stopped to look before dismissing the threat and took my balls in her mouth.

“You wouldn’t care if they saw us, would you?”

“Not at all,” She replied, “I love being watched.”

“Good girl,” I laughed before pulling her head back and spat in her mouth after slapping her face.

When Chelle resumed sucking my cock, I grabbed her throat and felt the head of my cock press against her esophagus. Man, that was a great sensation!

I pulled Chelle to her feet, spun her around and forced her back to her knees. Arching her back, I yanked Chelle’s head back, ordered her to open her mouth and inserted my glistening cock in her mouth while her nose tickled my rapidly tightening ball sack. This time I could see my cock bulge in Chelle’s throat.

“Oh, yeah,” I groaned, “That’s a good whore.”

As Chelle was contorting and accommodating my perverted demands, she did not neglect her own needs. Several minutes of clit pumping brought her to another shuddering orgasm. She was not a screamer but a quiet achiever. This was good because I had neighbours on either side, and in proximity, they would have been alerted if Chelle had screamed out.

The drugs were still in the open, on my porch, by the front door, next to large puddle of Chelle’s piss.

I pulled out of Chelle’s throat, picked her up by the hair, grabbed the weed and scales and frog-marched into the house while slamming the door behind me.

The bag I threw into Shane’s room. I placed the scales on the dining table and threw Chelle into the bathroom.

“In here, we can piss and arse fuck till we can’t,” I said, grabbing a towel from the rack and placing it on the floor.

“I want your load in my butt at end,” Chelle implored me.

“Happy to cream pie your arse, baby.”

“That’d be four in three,” She smiled as she clapped her hands together gently.

“You’re such a fucking slut!”

“The best you’ll ever experience.”

And she was right about that.

I forced Chelle down on her hands and knees, arse up and face planted on the floor. I grabbed the Vaseline from the medicine cabinet and smeared a small amount on my cock before mounting Chelle and roughly shoving my cock up her arsehole. Her body shook from the rough landing, but I did not care. She had my blood boiling, and I was determined to make a backdoor example out of this young whore.

Given we had moved indoor, Chelle felt comfortable being louder and more vocal as orgasm after orgasm smashed her petite frame.

“Oh, Jason, fuck me harder,” She screamed while diddling her clit, “Fuck my gaping arse!”

I pulled out and forced her arse cheeks aside as far as I could and was greeted by the biggest gape I have ever experienced.

“Push,” I demanded.

Chelle flexed her buggered muscle and spongey red flesh protruded from her arsehole. Clearly, she was familiar with arse gaping and prolapse and reveled in my amazement. I pressed the flesh and it quickly disappeared back into Chelle’s dirty hole.

“I need to pee,” She suddenly announced after the latest climax.

“Sit on the toilet,” I said, “Rest your leg on the bathtub and the toilet roll.”

With Chelle suitably spread open, I sat between her legs and waited for her to unleash her golden stream. She was surprised that I wanted her to piss on me, and she later confessed that I was the first guy that let her piss on them.

The stream came slowly at first. Chelle sat back, rested her head against the wall, closed her eyes and concentrated while pressing against her bladder. Unlike on the porch a few minutes earlier, she did not have a lot in the tank, but it was hot and salty. I drank her stream down like it was ambrosia. Her eyes widened as she watched me swallow the last drops.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” She sighed, “Kiss me.”

This was the first time we kissed since she arrived late to my place. There was no romance in this encounter, rather it was pure unadulterated hardcore butt fucking. No niceties offered or accepted. However, the pissy kiss humanized the encounter if only for a few seconds.

“I’m going to piss in your arsehole.” I announced after our lips disengaged, “Wait here.”

From the kitchen, I retried a white plastic funnel which I lubricated with Vaseline before gently inserting the spout into Chelle’s gaping hole as she lay face down on the towel.

“You ever done this before?” I asked.

“No,” She said uncomfortably, “Feels strange.”

“It’s going to get a lot stranger,” I replied before straddling her upturned arse and directing my flaccid cock toward the funnel’s opening.

Being soft, it was a lot easier to empty my bladder. At first the stream was strong, and I filled the entire funnel before stopping the flow. Slowly, the fluid drained inside Chelle’s arse but she could not take the full stream.

“Fuck, that feels so full back there.”

“As soon as I remove the funnel, I need you to close your arse no matter the pressure you feel.”

“Okay,” She grimaced.

I eased the plastic kitchen utensil from Chelle’s O-ring and immediately snapped shut. She expressed how uncomfortable the feeling was and how full she felt.

“Climb into the bath,” I instructed Chelle, “Lean over the edge like this.”

Chelle was on her knees, chest and tits hanging over the edge of the porcelain. I had placed two fingers against her bung to prevent an early expulsion of arse piss.

“I’m going to play with your clit as you relax your arse,” I explained, “Don’t force it, let it happen naturally.”

“I’ll try,” She whispered, clearly discomforted by the unusual sensation.

Withdrawing my fingers and placing them on Chelle’s clit, I gently flicked her bean as she slowly relaxed her anal muscle.

“Oh, fuck!” She suddenly exclaimed with eyes open and senses aware to the stimulation happening to her clit and arsehole.

A few dribbles trickled from her tight bung which ran down her inner thighs before the hole opened and a ballistic stream of piss erupted which hit the walls where the bath taps were.

“I’m coming!” She yelled as the pressure eased and her bottom expelled the foreign fluid.

“Wow!” I repeated as I took in the sight that exceeded my wildest expectation as my cock began hardening.

“Shit,” Chelle groaned, “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Fucking amazing!”

“You want to do it again?”

“Yes please.”

I inserted the funnel back into Chelle’s bruised and broken bung and filled her up again. This time, I ordered her to diddle her clit while she expelled the contents of her arse over my cock. She bent over the toilet while I slapped my rock-hard cock against her balloon knot. When she pushed, a enormous stream of yellow rain splashed against my cock, balls, and stomach.

“Fuck, that looks great!” I said over again.

“Feels so good!”

Chelle shuddered to another thundering orgasm as she expelled my piss from her arse. Without warning, I slammed my cock deep inside her dirty hole. Chelle screamed in pain but quickly settled into her buggering as she knew I was close to releasing my load in the one hole that had been neglected that day.