Madge with a Spadge Ch. 03

This story must be read with the following translations. It is written using Australian slang common in the 1960's to retain its authenticity.

Glossary - Australian slang to American English

Greaser = spiv, playboy.

Sheila = maiden.

Punch-up = brawl.

Brewer's Droop = impotence from excessive alcohol.

Prozzie = prostitute.

Codswallop = nonsense.

Rogerred = fucked vigorously.

Arsehole = anus.

*****

Dirty old Uncle Harry creeps into the narrative, and creep he was!

Harry was Madge's younger brother, in many ways the antithesis of her. He was 28 years old at the time, tall, thin and quite handsome, a bit of a greaser. He had a predilection for young girls and other relatives of either sex.

I met first him at a boozy family barbeque on the following Saturday. Normally these are Sunday lunchtime events but the logic was that everyone could get roaring drunk and still have time to sleep it off. Coming from a family of drunkards it was all too familiar to me and a reason why I didn't like booze.

"Come here, boy!" Harry commanded in a drunken slur. Everyone was now calling me boy but it referred to my youth not to my sexuality. "You had a fuck yet?" Denise shuffled around nervously as they all awaited my answer.

"Course yeah. Many." I brazened.

"Yeah? Fucked yer right hand I bet!" he sneered. "Rosey Palm and her five daughters. Yer little shit." He sucked again on the brown 'West End' beer bottle. "Don't fret, mum'll see you right." They all laughed. The Gadds had class! "Denise is a good sheila, too. One of the best!"

That statement could be taken a number of ways. All afternoon I pondered it as the party became more outrageous. Madge danced topless on the table, the males present jiggling her tits as she did. A moronic lad simulated sex with the dog until it turned back on him - a male dog, lucky not to lose his member. A woman, a neighbour it turned out, kept disappearing into the outside toilet, shortly to be followed by one of the men. "Your turn again Bazza" someone said. "No, fuck that. Ya wouldn't know what you'd catch after you dirty bastards had her." Then Harry turned to me and said menacingly "be a man, boy," without contradiction, "Jean loves it." Jean, in the light of day, was a broken down alcoholic hag. In her better days she had been a prozzie, now reduced to sucking cock, anywhere, anytime, just for a beer.

Denise rescued me. "We have to go. I have to feed the goldfish." Never have I heard such a load of codswallop. A scream of laughter erupted. "More like he wants to feed the tadpoles to YOU."

And the party was just getting underway; the blood, bruises and sometimes broken teeth from the forthcoming punch-ups, and that was just the kids. The planned dick measuring competition had to be called off because of 'brewer's droop'. The inbred idiot hadn't shit his pants as yet but someone had vomited on the toilet floor; that could have been the drink or the food, or both. Males caught short had pissed on the door jambs like dogs but no one noticed, or minded, until the heat of the following day. Still to come was the random couplings of friends and relatives in the bedrooms punctuated by acts of alcohol fuelled jealousy turning to violence, and that was by the women. At pumpkin hour the police would have broken up the party. Like fireman dousing flames there was the occasional flare-up with increasing dire consequence to the survivors of fully deserved police brutality.

I was driving Denise to the nearby Wingfield rubbish dump. No fancy names in those days, not a 'recycling facility' to be seen in the many kilometres of tidal mudflats now covered in mountain ranges of materiels discarded after the war. I knew one school mate who salvaged a Vickers Machine Gun, no doubt the breech block was destroyed but what a treasure for a 14 year old?

Why was I taking Denise to this 'garden of earthly delight'? Because I had every intention of fucking her! The site had a maze of dead end tracks among the mountains of discard and the only other people in the area would have been fellow parkers. I backed the little white Morris Minor 1000 into a suitable canyon. In the clear moonlit sky I commenced my carnal approach with stealth.

"Denise, thank you for saving me from the family barbeque." I intimated my genuine gratitude.

"That's OK. It was getting a bit rough and I wanted to spend some more time with you." She replied encouragingly.

Standard procedures were initiated. First my left arm over the back of the seat was slowly withdrawn until it was on her shoulder. No resistance. My right slid down to her knee. No resistance. Denise turned her head towards me and angled it upward slightly, silently inviting me to kiss her. I started to plant butterfly kisses on her forehead and cheeks, tantalising her until she could resist no more. Her left hand flashed down to my wrist and pulled me straight to her breast before laying back.

(Be aware that in Australia car are right hand drive, the driver facing forward is on the right hand side of the vehicle.)

Her urgency was palpable. She nearly raped me; lips, tongue, hands, sucked, poked and pawed. This had been anticipated for when she thrust my hand up her blouse there was no bra to restrain them. She was chasing my tongue as she unbuttoned the garment and threw it to the floor.

"Suck me, suck me like a baby would!" she commanded as she leaned back most uncomfortably in the iron framed seat. I eagerly did as I was told while Denise began to free me from my shirt. That achieved she ran her hand down further into the waist band of my army drill trousers, her kisses ever more urgent as our bodies were entwining strands of DNA. Quite appropriate for that was the impetus driving us both!

The key word was 'fumbling', for that best describes those awkward minutes while we got in each others way in our haste to release my cock from its bondage. With enough buttons undone she pulled my erect member out into the moonlight.

"Gawd, that's beautiful" she whistled through her gapped teeth. "I felt it but didn't see it on the highway. It's bigger than Har. . ." She stopped abruptly, but I clearly heard what I heard.

Aware that she had let a cat out of the bag she demanded "fuck me then, be a man and fuck me good." I sensed she had retreated from her initial lust.

I felt the anger rise up in me, giving me superhuman strength, turbo charging me into rape mode.

"You're no fuckin virgin. You've been rootin' your fuckin uncle" I almost screamed in her ear with vehemence as I used my body to wedge her into her seat. My hands pulling up her dress as I did so. I went to pull her panties down but they weren't there, I got a handful of sopping hair instead.

Denise was speechless as I raised her buttocks and slammed my cock against her arse, but no, she wasn't to have it that way. I lowered her slightly and forced my rod straight in, taking some long strands of hair into her vagina with it.

"Ouch," her body twisted "you're hurting me."

Did I care? With the testosterone rush I began to pound her like a maniac. "Fark" accompanied my jerking cock pumping it's thick white treasure into her belly. One orgasm wasn't enough, I didn't miss a beat but the edge of my anger had been blunted. Again I rogerred her relentlessly, the anger still within me driving me to hurt her. I raised her buttocks again, pinioning her tighter to the seat back and felt for her arsehole. There was a lather of her fluids and my semen slathered all round, the pad of my index finger finding the puckered ring. Without ceremony, and caring, I pushed it forcefully through the sphincter. Denise used her thigh muscles as if to rise away from the intrusion and then just as suddenly relaxed. My finger slid easily into her rectum where I could feel my own rigid shaft on the other side of the thin wall.

"Ooh, that's nice!" came from her not me. "I love that." Then she went crazy, humping, bucking thrusting her hips. "Fuck me", "I love you", "Do it again", "Put it back!" became a torrent of invective from both of us. As the spasms subsided there was an uneasy embarrassment. Denise lay back in the silvery light mopping her dripping cunt with her blouse.

"Do you really love me, Brent?" she quizzed as I sat back in my seat. "Marry me and take me away from my family. I will make you the happiest man, and we will have 4 beautiful children . . . "

I ceased to listen, although I heard. 'Love', 'Marry', 'Children' all I wanted was a fuck!!

"I need a piss", brought me back to reality. "Do you have any toilet paper?"

No, I didn't but gallantly offered my handkerchief, not being above using it as a keepsake to sniff later. Quite an aphrodisiac when held over the nose and mouth whilst masturbating.

She opened the door warily lest I drive away. "Christ, there's water!" she exclaimed in horror.

I quickly followed suit. "My god, the tides in!" Starting the engine I slammed it into gear and accelerated forward. The bald tyres spun, gripped then spun again as the engine stalled. Dead silence. "Fuck, we're done" I gulped.

Our first intercourse was memorable to say the least. Denise slept fitfully on the back seat while I stretched across two bucket seats and the handbrake.

To be continued