by Lane Hart
Holy shit, I think he’s serious and that’s the saddest shit I’ve ever heard because I know he’s not being sarcastic. Maddie and her brother and sister are probably just one blink away from being homeless.
“I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” I promise him, because no matter how much of an ass I can be, I would never do anything to make Maddie and her siblings lose their home. “But how does she get paid if they don’t know her real age. Don’t they ask for her ID and social security number?”
“Yep,” he responds. “Maddie uses our mom’s info. That way she said we don’t have to pay taxes on it or something.”
“Smart.”
I’m such a dick for how I’ve treated Maddie these last two years, not having a clue about her home life that’s a daily struggle she gets through without help from either of her parents. She’s the mother and the father to her brother and sister, doing everything she can for them. Not only is she still trying to graduate at the top of our class, she busts her ass day and night to keep a roof over their head and food on the table, even spending hours online talking dirty to pervy, old men.
And while I won’t tell Maddie about my conversation with her brother, I do plan to pay her a visit online and see exactly what her job entails.
Chapter 15
Maddie
I made it home just in time to show Aric out the door before I had to log on and get to work. I feel better after taking care of the latest crisis with the electric bill, yet I know that the next crisis is probably right around the corner.
There’s usually not a week that goes by that I’m not counting pennies to survive.
Working online for Naughty Chats Now pays a flat twenty dollars an hour plus a bonus if I can get a guy to keep chatting with me for more than ten minutes. It’s not a lot of money, but it’s more than I could make waitressing or working the fry machine in a fast food joint with the convenience of working from home and not having to pay a babysitter.
And it’s not like I have to show the perverts pictures of myself or anything either. The company provides us with photos of the women we’re supposed to pretend to be and even suggested responses to various questions. Most of the men aren’t very original. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked what I’m wearing or the color of my panties…well, actually I guess I do get paid every time they ask.
Still, not much surprises or offends me anymore, not even knowing that most, if not all, of the guys have one hand on their dicks while we’re chatting. I give them the dirty talk they want, but it doesn’t even phase me. I pretend I’m a robot, generating generic responses to sexy questions and do so without emotion and definitely without any interest. My job is to get lots of faceless men engaged and aroused enough to keep coming back, not to get all hot and bothered myself.
Are you as horny as I am, beautiful?
Oh yeah, definitely. I wish you could feel how hot and wet I am.
Is your hand between your legs?
It always is when I’m talking to you, big guy.
Eh, some may say what I do is gross and disgusting, and no, it’s not what I dreamed of doing as a little girl. But dreams are for people who have choices in life, which is something I will never have until Matt and Mandy both graduate high school and go off to college.
Because they are going to college. A good one too!
As long as they get scholarships.
Who knows, maybe by the time Matt is a senior, I’ll have a business degree from Madison and be rolling in the dough. While it may be a nice thought, it’s highly improbable.
It’s a good thing I can type around eighty words per minute, because it’s not unusual for me to be chatting with three or four guys at the same time, constantly bouncing from one chat box to the next, while having to remember what I’ve already said to each one so I don’t sound like an uninterested robot, even if I am.
Most of the guys are my regulars, and I have a note section on my chat screen where I can put a few details like Magnum69 says he’s an attorney from New York who likes jazz and hates the Jets. Small things, but enough information that they feel special when I remember days or weeks later. Not that I actually would remember anything any of them say if I didn’t keep good notes.
Tonight, I get a few new requests, one from Darkside4life who doesn’t even last three minutes after he asked for a photo and told me all the things he would do to me if I were wearing a gold bikini and tied up in his bed. I think it was some sort of Star Wars reference, but he was finished before I could look it up online.
My next newbie calls himself HardJockLife; and after asking how old I am and where I live (my alter ego is a twenty-one-year-old struggling model who resides in Beverly Hills, California), he also asks for a photo. I send him one of a blonde taking a naked selfie in front of a mirror with an arm covering her nipples and the bathroom counter hiding everything below her bellybutton. Who the woman really is, I don’t know and don’t care. The company gave me a few of her shots to use and since there’s no way I’ll be taking naked selfies, hers will have to do.
Instead of the usual “Wow, hot” or “Damn, girl” approval comments I usually get in response to the images, HardJockLife simply sends me a frowning emoji.
You don’t like how I look? I ask him.
Just a little disappointed because I prefer redheads.
That remark catches me a little off-guard since I am, in fact, a natural redhead, but there’s no way I’m telling some strange perv what I really look like.
If you want, I could dye my hair for you, big guy.
If my online chat work has taught me anything, it’s that guys love to be called “big.”
I prefer natural colors and how do you know I’m big?
Yet another first. No dude has ever argued he wasn’t big.
Your username has the word jock in it, so you’re probably big and swole all over, right? You could send me a picture to prove it…
Probably the worst part of my job is having to not only get dick pics but encourage them. It’s all about engagement, and nothing engages men more in sexy talk than showing a woman his package. The best part is that it takes a few minutes for the user to take or select the perfect shot from their camera roll, upload it (because our picture upload on both sides is intentionally slow as balls), and then I can go on for ten minutes about how big, thick, hard, long, giant, hot, and intimidating it is.
Of course, HardJockLife takes the bait and I follow up on my other conversations while I wait, and wait, and wait for his pic to download. And yes, I have to look at the images; because if I embellish too much, the dude will know I’m lying and bullshitting him to make him pay for more chat time.
I’m a little shocked when I open the file from HardJockLife and it’s not his wrinkled, red jimmy. Instead, it’s a shot of the front of his white athletic shorts with the long (yes, it really is), thick (plenty of girth too) shaft outlined in the fabric. Sure, it could be a random screen grab from the internet, or a dildo shoved down his pants, for all I know; but if it’s the real deal, then he has a very impressive Johnson.
Can you give me a second? I need to wipe all the drool from my mouth.
I bet you say that to all the boys.
Nothing boyish about your big, swollen cock. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one that huge before. Do the ladies run when they see it for the first time or do they drop to their knees to worship it?
That’s right, after the dick pic comes through, I have to up my game in the dirty talk and ego boosting department.
I don’t usually show it to the ladies until after I work them over with my tongue, getting them nice and wet and ready for it.
Whoa. Okay. So, he flipped the conversation around which happens sometimes, just not often. Most guys who want dirty chat prefer to make it all about them because men are ultimately selfish.
All of them.
How do you prefer to have your pussy licked? On your back? Standing up? Riding a man’s face? he asks.
&n
bsp; I like it all three ways. Which way do you prefer to do it?
Ugh, that comment makes me sound like the inexperienced girl that I am. While I’ve gone down on guys before, none have gone down on me. And I’m not sure if I would want them to. It just seems so…uncomfortable to have a guy’s face pressed right there.
I like to get a woman on her back and throw her knees over my shoulders so I can bury my tongue as deep as possible. Never had a woman ride my face but always wanted to. Chicks are always too self-conscious. Would you sit your cunt on my tongue and ride it?
Yes, of course.
You sure about that? He asks, apparently noticing the lack of conviction in my words.
Oh yeah. I love to sit on big, wet tongues. I am so out of my element here.
What noises do you make when you come? Tell me exactly.
He wants exact noises? This isn’t phone sex. I don’t know how to write out the sounds women make in porn when they’re having an orgasm or at least pretending to.
And I…well, I’ve never actually had one. I’ve tried to masturbate in the shower, but it just felt uncomfortable or something. Maybe I wasn’t doing it right. Or maybe I’m afraid that if I figure out how to get myself off that I’ll like it so much that I’ll want to hurry up and lose my virginity, which is something I can’t afford to do. I can’t get distracted. There’s enough on my plate as it is without adding sex.
Are you still there, Ramona?
That’s right, my screenname is Ramona. I didn’t get to actually pick it or anything, and I’m pretty sure the site uses it because it has the sound of the word moan in it. How the hell do you write moans?
Sorry, I’m still here I tell him before I quickly click on my other boxes that have gone silent thanks to me spending too much time with HardJockLife.
So? What do you moan when you come, Ramona?
I cringe as I type out what I can remember hearing from porn and then hit send.
Oooh yeah, baby! That feels so good! I’m gonna come so hard!
Him: Sounds like you can get pretty loud.
Me: Is that a bad thing?
Him: No, the louder the better as long as you don’t sound fake like those women in pornos.
Me: Of course not, I’m totally real. 100%.
Him: I’m sure you are. Hey, look, I’ve got to go but will you be online tomorrow night?
Me: Yes. Shit, I blew it and now he’s leaving.
Him: Good. We’ll talk more then. Goodnight.
Goodnight I say just before HardJockLife ends the chat on his end.
Pulling out my phone, I decide to send a quick message to Aric, not all that shy about asking him since I have so much blackmail on him. Besides, he already knows I’m a virgin.
Me: What do women sound like when they come?
Aric: Excuse me?
Me: What sounds do women make when they have an orgasm?
Aric: You’re serious? You really don’t know?
Me: Nope.
Aric: You’ve never had one? Like ever? Even on your own?
Me: I’ve sort of been busy with other shit.
Aric: There’s always time to make yourself come.
Me: OMG. Enough with the commentary. Could you just tell me?
Aric: That’s not really something I can explain by text messages. It’s more of a verbal, face to face thing.
Me: Whatever. Forget it. I’m starting to think you don’t know either…
Aric: :O He sends me back the open-mouthed, shocked emoji. Believe me, I fucking know! I hear it so often it echoes through my head while I try to sleep.
Me: If you say so…
Aric: I do say so. I’ll prove it to you tomorrow.
Chapter 16
Maddie
I like to get to school early because you never know if the city bus will be running late, but today I’m here before anyone else…except for Aric. He comes strolling down the hallway with the black strap of his backpack slung over one shoulder, his uniform in pristine condition with iron creases down his slacks.
For the past two years, I’ve been wearing and washing the same six uniforms over and over again and am doing good if I don’t have a million wrinkles in my dress shirt. Although, with the sleeves off and my stomach showing during summers, I don’t think anyone notices if there are wrinkles.
When Aric comes up behind me in the hallway, I hiss at him, “Keep walking before someone sees you hanging around me.” I didn’t even think he stepped foot on campus until the second bell.
Instead of moving away, he leans closer, placing his palms on the lockers on either side of mine, the front of his body almost brushing my back. Caged in by his big body, the only place I have left to go is inside my open locker.
“What are you doing?” I ask him over my shoulder.
Aric’s mouth hovers right next to my ear, so close I can feel his warm breath and smell his minty toothpaste when he whispers, “Oh! Oh god, Aric!”
I fight off a shiver, too tense to move even an inch with him standing so close and acting so…strange.
“You’re talking about yourself in third person now? Awesome,” I mutter. “Still, you need to get lost.”
He ignores me and lowers his voice even more. “Don’t stop! That’s it, baby, right there!”
“Right where? What are you talking about?” I ask with a frustrated huff.
“Yes! Yes! Yesssss!” The third word he sighs like a desperate, needy, drawn out moan that flutters against the side of my neck. I wince when I lose the internal shiver battle with myself, hating my body for having any uncontrolled reactions because of the arrogant bastard.
What the hell is he…oh shit! Now I get it! He’s imitating a woman coming in the middle of the hallway where dozens of students will be walking by any second!
“Okay! Jeez. You didn’t have to do it here!” I tell him when I turn around and press my palm against his hard chest, encouraging him to take a step back. He does, reaching up and hooking his thumb under the strap of his backpack with a cocky grin on his face so huge he even has twin dimples popping out. I didn’t know he even had dimples!
“Thought it might be urgent since you texted me about it at midnight last night.”
“Was it really that late?” I ask and he nods. “Whoops. Sorry.”
“Now do you think I’m telling the truth?” he asks before strolling off down the hall to his own locker without waiting for my answer.
I knew exactly what he meant – am I convinced that he knows what a woman sounds like when she comes? Yes, yes, I am even though I don’t have any way to confirm.
I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be pleasured by a man and make those kinds of noises. Not just any man but by Aric.
Which is so stupid that I wish I could take the entire thought back; but once it’s in my head, it doesn’t want to vacate.
Worst of all?
I hate thinking of who has made those sounds for Aric. Blake’s mom is an awful person to be messing around on her husband with her son’s best friend. It’s so gross; and even though Aric said he tried to end it, she still keeps messaging him.
Then an idea hits me.
Once, Aric stepped in and saved me from a shitty situation. Maybe it’s time I do the same for him.
First, though, I think I need to try and learn more about orgasms, from a more trustworthy source.
“Quick question,” I say to Hannah during lunch.
“What’s that?” she asks, chomping on a potato chip and then taking a drink from her water bottle.
“Have you ever had a, ah, you know, an orgasm?” I whisper the last word even though there’s no one around our reject table at the back of the cafeteria.
Hannah’s cheeks puff out, but she doesn’t spray her water on me. Instead she swallows and chokes on it.
Once she can speak again, she grabs a napkin to wipe her mouth.
“Why? What did you hear? Did someone say something?”
“I hear lots of things in
the hallways, so you need to be more specific,” I say in confusion.
“No, what have you heard about me…having one of those? Who was talking about it?” her eyes dart around the cafeteria as if seeking out a gossip.
“Take a deep breath, Han,” I tell her. “I haven’t heard anything about you in regard to that. I was just curious to know if you had ever.”
“Oh,” she mutters, shoulders along with the rest of her body visibly relaxing. “Then, yes, I have.”
“What’s it like?”
“Are you joking right now?” she asks, blinking at me while she studies my face.
“No.”
“You’ve never…” she starts.
“Nope.”
“Not even on your own…”
“Nope.”
“Okay then,” Hannah says. “Just goes to show that not all gossip is true.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask her. “What gossip? Gossip about me?”
She nods and takes another sip of water. “Several guys have mentioned that they’ve done a lot of things with you.”
“They have not! I haven’t dated anyone at this school. Ever!”
“They didn’t say they dated you, but that they fucked you.”
“Who? Who said this?” I ask.
“Clay Wyatt and Andy Rhodes.”
“They are so full of shit!” I exclaim when I shoot to my feet and start looking for the lying asses.
“Shh, keep your voice down!” Hannah says while partially covering her face with her hand. “We drew enough attention to ourselves the other day with Royal and the guys.”
“Right. I’ll take care of those assholes later,” I say as I clear my throat and retake my seat. “Anyway, orgasms. Tell me about them. Only the female ones. I know all about male ones.”
“Guys are so selfish, aren’t they?” Hannah huffs.
“Girl, you have no idea,” I say with a roll of my eyes. Then I ask her, “Are they as good as everyone claims?”
Leaning forward, she grins and says, “No, they’re even better.”