Dirty Bad Strangers

by Jade West

  “Show me dirty,” I whispered. “I want you in my ass.”

  He slapped my thigh. “Roll over, sweet thing, get that ass in the air for me.”

  I manoeuvred onto all fours, scrunching up a cushion for my head. He ran his fingers down my spine until the bed dipped under his weight behind me. I took a breath as he spread me wide, burning up at the thought of his eyes all over me. A squelch of lube, then a forceful intrusion. His thumb wriggled around inside, and it felt wonderful.

  “You’re tight. When did you last take cock in your ass?”

  I struggled to remember. “A while... twelve months at least. Don’t worry, big boy, I can take it.”

  Fingers dipped in my pussy, fucking me both ways. He rubbed his fingers against his thumb with only the wall of my pussy between them and glorious sparks shot to my clit. I moaned out loud and asked for more.

  “You ever taken two cocks at once, Gemma?”

  I gasped as he pushed his thumb deep. “No, not inside me... only a spit roast...” I gasped again when he yanked his thumb away, and again at the tingle of his tongue on my asshole. “Shit, Jason, that’s so nice.”

  His palm pressed against my pussy, grinding hard. I cringed at the wet, squelching sounds I made, so loud in the room. The blindfold was doing crazy things to me, distorting everything. The man had some fucking moves.

  “Ask me to stretch your ass... I want to hear you say it...”

  “Oh, God…”

  “Ask me!”

  I took a breath, sure I was burning fucking pink. “Stretch my ass, Jason, please. Stretch me! Stretch me wide fucking open!”

  “Good girl,” he growled. I moaned as his tongue pushed into me, moaned again as he held it there, wriggling deep in my ass, gasped when he pulled out and jammed something bigger inside. Two fingers maybe, even three. He twisted them deep. “Push them out.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You heard me, dirty girl. Push my fingers out. I want to feel that tight little hole fight me.” It was a first for me. I screwed my eyes shut under the blindfold as I pushed down on his fingers. It felt so bloody wrong... so dirty. He growled his pleasure. “Fuck yes. Again. Harder.”

  This time he fought me, holding his fingers firm as I tried to expel him. I could’ve died at the noises, but he didn’t seem to care.

  “You really are a dirty boy, aren’t you?” I hissed.

  “Dirty enough, my sweet little Gem.”

  I pushed him out of me, unprepared for his next invasion. This one was bigger still. Four fingers? More? His whole fucking fist? He worked my ass in large circles, and I felt so full. So very fucking full.

  “I want you to feel me when I’m gone.”

  “Harder, then! Make me fucking take it!” I gritted my teeth, falling into the fantasy. Years of jilling myself off to the idea of cocks splitting me open. He was here, my dirty fantasy. Here in my real life bedroom with his fist in my dirty little asshole. “Fill me up, Jason!”

  The strangest sensation, like being pulled apart. “You like that? I can see inside you, dirty girl. You look so fucking good.”

  Sweet Jesus! His tongue made me squirm, my desperate fingers reaching back between my legs to rub at my clit. “More... please... use me, Jason... use me…”

  “That’s right, play with that sweet little cunt.”

  “More, Jason!”

  “Pass me one of those dildos, let’s see how much you can take.” I patted around the cabinet. sending everything flying until my hand landed on the tool for the job. My big purple. My favourite. I passed it back between my thighs. “Brave choice.”

  “Fuck me,” I hissed. “Open me up.”

  “Filthy girl,” he groaned. “I love you like this.” I heard him pile on the lube. “Get ready.”

  I was ready, but it still made me squeal as he slid big purple into my ass, all the way to the hilt. My fingers worked my pussy through the burn, my weight pressed into the bed with both hands between my thighs. I spread my knees as far as they would go, exposed and raw and past all care.

  “One day you’ll take two fat dicks in your ass. This is nothing, Gemma... just a tiny warm up.”

  “Yes...”

  He pushed up against me, until his cock was pressing against my pussy, the flat of his stomach holding big purple in place. I took him in my hands, grinding him tight against my clit. He was big, as big as big purple, not twelve inches, but a big hulk of meat all the same. My brain unravelled, sending me to the place I loved to go. The place where I was nothing but lust, a crazy urge for filthy cock the only thing in the universe. I guided his cock towards my slit, urging him in.

  “Your ass is stretched full, dirty girl. It won’t go in easy.”

  “I don’t care,” I rasped. “I want it.” I shuffled backwards, grunting as the tip of him breached my pussy.

  “Fuck, Gemma, let me get a condom.” I held my breath as I waited, my ass clenching tight around the dildo. “Are you sure you want this, Gemma?”

  “Fuck yes,” I hissed, bracing myself for it.

  He was right, it didn’t go in easy. One hand grabbed at my hip, pulling me onto him, and the other was flat to my ass, keeping big purple plugged tight. He grunted as he pushed his way inside, and it hurt like a motherfucker, but I didn’t care. My eyes watered under my blindfold, but I was smiling all the fucking way.

  “Oh God, yes... yes...”

  “I wish you could see what I can see,” he breathed.

  “Don’t come, Jason, not yet.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, sweet thing. I can fuck for hours.”

  It felt like it. He fucked me so slow; gentle strokes to tease me open, before slamming me good and proper. Fast, then slow, over and over, until I was swearing and groaning, and falling apart underneath him. He fucked me with big purple, and fucked me in tandem, encouraging me to strum my horny little clit until I came like a wild animal, grabbing at the sheets and squealing his name.

  He pulled out slowly, taking big purple with him in a truly glorious squelch, and my insides quivered and throbbed. Sweet Jesus!

  “A perfect view,” he said. “Gaping wide and raw and so fucking pretty.”

  I was fucked, well and truly. I rolled onto my back, reaching out for him. I found his cock still hard, and pulled off the condom, tossing it aside and coaxing him up the bed to me. My mouth was already open. He tasted of rubber, and pussy.

  “My turn,” he breathed. “That’s right... so fucking right.”

  I slurped on his cock as best I could from my position, and he seemed to enjoy it well enough. He slapped his meat against my lips, jerking himself off against my chin. I opened wide for him, all ready for his dirty gift.

  “Now...” he hissed. “Yes!”

  His cum was salty, and thick, really fucking thick. It dribbled to the back of my throat, and I swallowed the whole lot down with a grateful smack of my lips.

  It didn’t put him off kissing my salty mouth, tangling his tongue with mine in a horny-as-hell parting gesture.

  My body was sad when he removed himself from my touch. I listened to him pull his jeans back on.

  “Time’s up,” he said.

  I sighed. “I’m not sure pole fitness is on the cards tonight.”

  “You’ll be fine, dirty girl. You’re going to feel me when you’re rubbing against that pole, I like that.”

  “I’ll be feeling you for a while,” I giggled. “A long while.”

  He pressed his lips to my forehead, surprising me. “I’ll let myself out. Give me five minutes before you take the blindfold off.”

  I listened to him in the living room, heart pounding until I heard the door slam closed behind him.

  I relaxed, smiling to the empty room as I counted down the minutes.

  And then I took my blindfold off.

  ***

  Chapter Nine

  Jason

  I was grinning like a lunatic as I drove out of Blackfriars, searching through Steve’s crappy old tapes until I found

a driving anthems soundtrack. I turned it up high as I chugged through the countryside.

  She was everything I hoped for, and more. So much more.

  Her ripe thighs, the soft white swell of her tits. Fuck. She was gorgeous. Gorgeous and dirty and horny as hell.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket for the umpteenth time. I checked the mirrors before I pulled it out, making sure I kept my eyes on the road. My hands-free setting pinged on, reading my messages in a robotic voice that was only just audible over the music.

  Message from April. 1.30 p.m. Where are you?

  Message from April. 1.45 p.m. Call me, asshole. I want you to come to Oakleys with me. Press are out.

  Message from April. 2.30 p.m. Screw you. I’ve gone alone. Dickhead.

  Message from Steve. 4.05 p.m. Well? Was she a goer?

  I turned down the stereo.

  “Text message to Steve. Best lay I’ve ever fucking had. Send.”

  I wasn’t fucking lying.

  ***

  Gemma

  What a bloody raucous.

  It sounded like a crowd of people at my front door. Angry mobsters hammering the place down.

  I pulled my robe tight around me, flinching as I made my way through to the hall. Pole fitness would be interesting.

  “THE POLICE ARE ALREADY ON THEIR WAY! OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR, RIGHT NOW!”

  Shit! I knew the voice. It was emblazoned on my brain through years of screeching conversation.

  “Chelsea?” I freed the catch. She was brandishing her handbag high above her head, teeth gritted and eyes wild. It took everything I had not to laugh, she was as threatening as a bloody hamster. She stormed past me in a typhoon of hair extensions, eyes darting about the place.

  “Where is he?!”

  I stared blankly. “Where’s who?”

  “Jason,” she spat. “The psycho killer.”

  “What the hell?” I began. “How do you know about Jason?”

  “He’s not here?”

  “He left ages ago. I’m just getting ready for pole fitness,” I said. “How do you know about Jason? What’s going on?”

  “That’s what you should be telling me,” she spat. “We’ve been worried sick! Tessa got a message on her phone during her break, something about you meeting up with some crazy chatline weirdo who might kill you, and she tried to call you back fifteen billion times, only you didn’t fucking answer.”

  My stomach lurched. Shit. I scurried to the living room, flinching again as I dropped to all fours to recover the phone from under the sofa. Sure enough there were fifteen billion calls or thereabouts. A few billion messages, too.

  “Shit,” I said. “I had my phone on silent.”

  “Looks like it!” she screeched. “You’d better call her, if I don’t call back within ten minutes she’s calling the police. We thought you were being raped, or killed, or abducted or some other crazy shit.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t think Tessa would get the message til later.”

  “Yeah, well she did.” Chelsea dropped herself onto the sofa. “I risked my life for you, Gemma Taylor. I hope you appreciate that.”

  It was strangely sweet. “You came in all guns blazing,” I smiled. “Like a real heroine.”

  “I’m hardly gonna let some chatline freak kill my bestie, am I?”

  “Clearly not,” I grinned. “Seriously, that’s really sweet. I’m sorry for stressing you out.”

  “Tessa’s blowing a gasket, too,” she said. “You’d better call her.”

  I dialled the number, bracing myself for the torrent. Luckily it rang to voicemail and I left a garbled and highly apologetic message.

  “She must be with a patient,” Chelsea surmised. “Just as well for you.”

  I flopped down beside her, teasing back my sweaty curls. “I really am sorry.”

  Her blue eyes pierced mine. “You’d better start talking. Who is he? What happened?”

  “He’s just a guy,” I lied. “It was just a date.”

  She leant forward to sniff me. “Like fuck it was. This place stinks of sex, and so do you.”

  “It was just a date...” I repeated. “A date with sex.”

  Her face was a picture of horror. “You fucked a chatline weirdo?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Urgh, I bet he was a right munter.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “I really don’t think he was.”

  “You don’t think he was?!”

  “I didn’t see that much of him...” I mumbled.

  “So, you fucked the guy but you didn’t see that much of him?”

  I shrugged and tried to bluster my way out of it, but she didn’t let it go until I relented. “I was blindfolded, ok? It was about the sex. A crazy kink. I shouldn’t have worried you, but he wasn’t a psycho killer, he was just a really hot guy.”

  “You’re out of your mind!” she hissed. “Seriously bloody cuckoo!”

  I couldn’t really argue with her, which made a change.

  “What’s done is done,” I sighed. “I’m really sorry. I won’t worry you again.”

  “But you will see the weirdo again?”

  I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. “Probably.”

  “Probably?!”

  “Definitely,” I laughed. “I’ll definitely see him again. If he calls, that is.”

  “Jesus Christ,” she scowled. “You’ve got serious issues, Gemma Taylor.”

  I couldn’t really argue with her about that, either.

  I checked the time. “I really do appreciate the rescue and all, but I’ve got pole at six.”

  She stood to leave, jabbing an angry finger at me. “This isn’t the end of this. Not by a long stretch.”

  I didn’t doubt it.

  I thought I’d escaped lightly until she folded her arms by the front door. I died at the pout on her lips, the inevitable precursor to some unpleasant demand.

  I should have seen this one coming.

  “Now I risked my life to save yours, you will be coming with me to Kings on Saturday night, won’t you?”

  Shit.

  How could I possibly say no?

  ***

  If I hadn’t wanted to see Cara so badly, I’d definitely have given pole a miss. I was practically limping, insides all mushed up from my epic fuck. I hoped they’d go back to normal, sooner rather than later.

  The rest of the ladies gave it their all, while I did my best to smile and look like I was trying. I caught Cara’s eyeline throughout the class, her chocolate stare curious and quizzical.

  She collared me when the room had cleared, just like I hoped.

  “Something tells me you saw your mystery caller,” she smiled.

  “That obvious?” I beamed.

  “Either that or you’ve given birth recently,” she laughed. “My money’s on rough sex. I’d know the limp anywhere.”

  “I’m really bloody limping,” I admitted, plonking myself down on a bench at the sidelines. “It was hardcore.”

  “What on earth did he do to you? Bring a busload of mates along with him?”

  “Not this time,” I joked. Only it wasn’t a joke. Not really. I tingled at the thought. “He managed to do a pretty good job on his own, in all fairness.”

  Her eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t read. “Did he hit you? Spank you, I mean?”

  “No. Just fucked me. Hard. With the help of big purple.”

  “Big purple?”

  “My vibrator.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Ahh... double penetration. Was it your first time?”

  “Kind of,” I admitted. “I hope it’s not my last.”

  Her eyes were warm. “If he’s glowing half as much as you are, I seriously doubt it will be. You’re on fire, Firecracker. Whatever the guy did, he got you good.”

  “It was crazy stupid. He could have been anyone.”

  “Yes, he could. Luckily he wasn’t.”

  “Luckily.”

  “You escaped unscathed,” she giggled. “Well, largely unscathed. You’ll be right as rain in a few days.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.”

  My mind whizzed back to Club Explicit and all the crazy things I’d seen. “Is that the kind of stuff you do? At that club?”

  “We do BDSM at the club,” she said. “I’ve been known to enjoy a bit of double penetration. Raven will sometimes crack out a double strap-on, if I’ve been a very, very naughty girl.”

  The image of Raven pegging Cara with a double strap-on brought a fresh rush of tingles and my clit pulsed hot. Jesus! “It’s so refreshing,” I admitted. “To be able to talk, you know? My friends would have me sectioned if they had half a chance.”

  “Maybe you have the wrong friends.”

  “They are my only friends.”

  “Not anymore.” She squeezed my elbow. “I think you need an ear, Figi, let’s go.”

  “Figi?” I laughed. “Firecracker Gem? I like it.”

  “You’ll like the Devonshire Arms, as well,” she smiled. “It’s only round the corner.”

  ***

  The Devonshire Arms was a goth bar, and a hardcore one at that. We met Raven in the entrance, looking as exotic as ever, pulling Cara into a tight squeeze and peppering her face with kisses.

  “The lovely Gemma,” she exclaimed, warmly. “Nice to see you again so soon.”

  “Gemma got laid,” Cara shared. “The chatline guy.”

  “Hey, hot stuff,” Raven smiled. “That calls for a celebratory drink.”

  I was inclined to agree with her. Cara went off for a round of snakebite and blacks while Raven led me to a theatrical-looking alcove in the corner. It was strung with fake cobwebs, its seats carved like big old thrones. Quite a place.

  “Was he everything you hoped?” she quizzed.

  “Everything and more,” I admitted. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

  “What am I missing?” Cara asked, handing out the drinks. “I want in on all the gory details.”

  “I was just telling Raven that Jason surpassed my expectations.”

  “Take it from the top,” she said. “I want to know everything.”

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