Dirty Bad Strangers

by Jade West

  I was glad, as I was just as keen to spill every sordid little detail.

  They listened without interruptions, making all the right noises in all the right places, and allowing me to gush to my heart’s content about the crazy talents of the crazy mystery trucker from Surrey. For once I felt normal in my insanity, unhindered by disapproval. It felt nice.

  Their verdict was unexpected, but welcome.

  “Go for it,” Cara said. “If you think he’s for real.”

  “Just make sure you’re safe,” Raven added. “Safe, sane and fully consensual. They’re the magic words.”

  “I feel pretty safe,” I said. “And it’s entirely consensual. It’s the sane thing I’m not quite so sure about.”

  “Why don’t you bring him to Explicit?” Cara asked. “You could become a member. You don’t have to do any of the BDSM stuff if you don’t want to, but at least we could keep an eye on things, make sure you’re ok. Could be fun.”

  “I could ask him,” I said. “One day.”

  “One day soon I hope,” Cara smiled. “It would be awesome.”

  “And sensible,” Raven added. “Especially if he wants to get other people involved. Always helps to be part of a friendly crowd.”

  It was certainly food for thought.

  Tasty food, at that.

  ***

  Jason

  April’s face was like a slapped arse when I got through the door. She folded her arms and scowled at me, stalking me through to the kitchen.

  “Well?” she spat. “Where the fuck have you been?”

  “It’s my rest day. I was resting.”

  “I sent you messages.”

  “And I didn’t see them in time.” I made myself a coffee, and made the bitch one too. I didn’t even get a thanks.

  “You’ve been off with that loser, Steve, again, haven’t you? Why do you insist on hanging around with him? He’s a nobody. Such a nobody that even his wife left him, and she was a frumpy old cow with no prospects.”

  “Stop it,” I snapped. “Don’t start on Steve.”

  “You should have been there. Those pictures are going in Fame magazine, a pull-out on that new musical.”

  “So?”

  “So, we’re the Redferns. We should have been there. Both of us.”

  “At least they got you,” I sneered. “Brightening up their afternoon like a ray of golden sunshine.”

  “I’m only grumpy with you, Jason. Nobody else pisses me off as much as you do.”

  “I’m honoured to have the privilege.” Even April’s digs couldn’t dampen my mood. I leaned back against our grossly expensive kitchen units, smiling at nothing.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Does anything have to be wrong?”

  “You’re smiling,” she sniped. “That means something must be wrong.”

  “Maybe I’m just happy.”

  “You’d be happier with another decent sponsorship in the bag. You played well yesterday, a decent public appearance could have nailed another offer, got everyone talking about you. You think I do all this shit for me, Jason, but it’s for us. We should be making hay while the fucking sun shines, we’ll not be hot property forever.”

  She was wrong about my happiness. Another sponsorship would mean fuck all to me, same as the rest of our shitty fake life. “I hope I fade off the radar as soon as possible when this season’s up.”

  “Sure you do. And then what? Steve going to give you a job in his workshop, chopping up bits of wood like he does? You’re Jason bastard Redfern, bloody act like it.”

  “I know who I am, April.”

  “You’ve never known who you are, Jason. That’s why you need me. You’re still a little boy trying to make things up to his poor dead daddy, it’s me who keeps a grip of this operation.”

  I slammed my mug down so hard it cracked the handle. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snarled. “What the fuck?”

  She didn’t flinch, just fixed me with spiteful eyes. “That’s better. I was wondering where grumpy Jason had fucked off to.”

  “You’re a fucking bitch, April,” I spat. “Nothing but a spiteful fucking bitch.”

  I stormed away, but her words screeched after me, ricocheting around the hallway like venomous bullets.

  “Sign the papers, you stupid asshole. Sign the papers and get the fuck out of my house! At least then one of us can be fucking happy!”

  Not on her sorry, fake fucking life.

  ***

  I slammed the photos back in the drawer. Closing up the memories with them. April was a fucking bitch.

  I only had one picture on display after all these years, an enlarged photo on my bedside dresser. Me and my dad in football shirts, back from the game at Birmingham United. I’m on his shoulders in the photo, arms reaching to the sky as he beams with pride.

  My first big teenage game, my first real win. Age thirteen and a junior star in the making. He was so damn proud.

  Six years later and he’d be dead and I’d be washed up. Such a fucking crock of shit.

  I scrolled through my phone, desperate for the distraction. It was too soon to text her, way too soon. Psycho stalker territory, for sure.

  Turns out I didn’t need to, my phone beeped in my hand.

  Gemma: I’ve numbed my wounds with snakebite and black. Pole was a washout. xx

  My heart thumped at the sight of her words, the smell of her came rushing back.

  Can you still feel me, dirty girl?

  Gemma: Everywhere. I love it. xx

  Gemma: I’m also drunk. I should have waited at least three days to message you. xx

  I smiled. The unspoken rules of sex.

  I was about to message you. Fuck the sexting etiquette. I want to see you again.

  Gemma: I’ll check Tessa’s calendar. xx

  Has it changed since yesterday?

  Gemma: No. Why? xx

  Then you don’t need to check it. I’ll take Tuesday if it’s still available.

  My stomach churned. Too much? I fucking hoped not.

  Gemma: It’s still available. 7pm ok for you? Same drill. xx

  Perfect.

  I wondered if she was smiling. Sore and used up and drunk on snakebite. I wondered if she was playing with her sweet swollen clit, jiggling those pretty tits at the thought of me. My cock was hard for her, desperate for more.

  I fired off another text, pushing my luck.

  Thursday. I’ll take Thursday, too.

  Gemma: You really are throwing the fuck buddy etiquette out the window, hey? xx

  Is that what we are? Fuck buddies?

  Gemma: I have no fucking idea. ;) xx

  I like it. Fuck buddy.

  Gemma: Ok, fuck buddy. I’ll see you Tuesday... and Thursday. xx

  No, you won’t. But I’ll see you, Dirty Girl.

  I couldn’t fucking wait.

  ***

  Gemma

  Tessa had always been the quiet practical type, but she’d lost her shit with me big style, slamming her work bag down in the hallway and letting it rip with both barrels. I’d let her rant, apologising profusely until she calmed down enough to put the kettle on. Then we’d talked about it. Properly.

  She wasn’t nearly so understanding as Cara and Raven, but she’d tried. A+ for effort. That’s what I love about Tessa, she tries her best. Always.

  “But where’s it going, Gemma? Where does this shit lead? A relationship? Commitment? Hell, you haven’t even seen his face.”

  My stomach churned at the thought. “I don’t want a relationship, Tess. I just want the sex.”

  “But why, Gem? One day you’re going to have to settle down. One day there’ll have to be someone that counts. How will you find him if you keep fucking around with strangers?”

  “One day, Tess, but not yet. I don’t want it yet.”

  “Why not?”

  I’d sighed, same as always, trying to find words that never came.

  I don’t like fucking people I kno
w. How can I have filthy, dirty, crazy sex with someone who wants to hold my hand and cuddle, and plan a rosy little future together? Sex with friends makes me feel icky. Watching a sappy film then asking someone to fuck my filthy asshole raw doesn’t cut it..

  I just want the sex.

  Sex with dirty strangers, without restraint.

  We’d agreed to disagree, and I’d promised never to put her in that position again. Talk, she’d insisted. Talk, and not do crazy shit without warning.

  I’d try my best.

  “A thousand nice guys would want to be with you, Gem. You’re funny, and pretty, and smart. Why won’t you give one of them a chance? It’s been ages since you’ve been with anyone, ages since you’ve given it a go.”

  A thousand nice guys wouldn’t give me to a load of dirty men and watch them fuck me senseless.

  I wanted the marriage, and the picket fence and the 2.4 kids. One day. In the distant future. My parents have that, the kind of love that lasts a lifetime. They still smile at each other like there’s no one else in the world, and tell jokes only they understand. They still hold hands on the way to the supermarket, and go to bed at the same time every evening.

  I want a happy ever after like theirs, but my happy ever after seems a lot more confusing.

  Fuck it, I was screwed. Screwed but happy, at least.

  ***

  Jason

  “You’re on fucking fire, Jay! Get fucking in, lad!”

  Trevor was dancing on the spot, whooping with glee as I snatched another ball from Banksy’s feet. I cleared it long, positioning it perfectly for Gallway up ahead. He nipped it to Wood who cleared the way for another goal.

  Five a side had never looked so one sided.

  Trevor patted my back in the break. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. It’s taken a decade off you, lad.”

  It felt like it. I felt fucking amazing.

  I ploughed myself into my cardio through the afternoon, aiming for personal best and coming damn close. Physio were pleased too, no sign of injury from the previous weeks; a clean bill of health.

  An extra year’s contract wasn’t looking so absurd after all.

  The youngsters milled about in the dressing room after training, throwing around banter about hot girls and getting laid. I smirked to myself. Teenagers.

  Seemed these teenagers were planning a night on the London town.

  “You coming, Jase?” Fernandez yelled. “Kings, Saturday night. It’s my big birthday bonanza. Drink and slick beats and hot puss-ayyyy.”

  “I’m a pipe and slippers man,” I laughed. “Unlikely, lads.”

  “He’s already got his hot puss-ayyyy,” Banksy jibed. “Don’t need none of that Kings’ shit with April keeping the bed warm.”

  If only they fucking knew.

  I threw my bag in the back of the Range, smirking to find a text from Steve on my mobile.

  When am I getting some, then, mate? Need me a hot piece of chatline chick.

  My reply was simple.

  Soon.

  Not too soon, though. This week she was all mine.

  ***

  Chapter Eleven

  Gemma

  Daytime hours on chatline were always slower, but I crammed them in anyway, desperate to free up my evening for Jason. The day dragged. An hour spent pretending to be turned on by cucumbers broke up the monotony, but the day was generally as vanilla as chatline ever gets. Seven p.m. couldn’t come around quickly enough.

  Tessa dashed in from college with barely enough time to eat her dinner. She abandoned the noodle dish in the sink and bolted to her shift, leaving me with an empty apartment and the heady flutter of anticipation. I dressed in red this time; a floaty wrap that showed almost everything, and black hold-up stockings to match. I looked like a devil in the mirror, a devil with a cherub’s arse. Jason hadn’t seemed to care about that, though.

  A vehicle rumbled onto the yard at a few minutes to seven and I swear my pussy clenched. Heart thumping, I fought the impulsion to steal a glance through the kitchen window. Luckily the buzz of my phone was enough to deliver me from temptation.

  I’m outside, dirty girl. Be ready.

  Oh, God! I got to my knees in the middle of the living room, pulling the blindfold down snug. My pulse was loud in my ears as my clit thrummed for a man I’d never even seen. My fingers slipped between my thighs as I listened to his footsteps on the stairwell. Five heavy steps in the hallway before the door creaked. He was in. The door closed gently and the latch engaged with a soft click. I could feel him in the room. I could feel him staring.

  “Stand up.”

  I didn’t deny him, rising to my feet as gracefully as I could manage. I jumped at his touch, but he was only reaching for the tie at my waist. My robe slipped from my shoulders, tickling my arse as it fell to the floor. I was naked apart from my stockings, and I felt it. I felt naked. My cheeks were burning.

  “Jason... I...”

  “Shhh.”

  His scent hit me, then. Citrus mixed with something heavier. Him. I could hear him breathing as he circled me. My stomach churned as I felt his scrutiny, conscious of every single imperfection. My cherub arse, the overhang of my belly, my chubby thighs... all so obvious without the disguise of the gauzy fabric.

  “Part your legs.”

  I shuffled my feet apart, jittery as hell when I heard him drop to his knees. He was so close to me, looking, staring.

  “You have such a beautiful cunt, Gemma.”

  I let out a moan as he blew warm breath on my pussy lips.

  “Play with yourself.”

  I hesitated for just a moment before my trembling fingers found my clit, my breaths ragged little gasps as he got to his feet. I heard his clothes dropping to the floor as he watched me.

  Hot hands arrived on my shoulders.

  “Lie down, dirty girl, on your back. Spread those lovely legs for me…”

  He guided me to kneeling, and I lay back, clammy thighs open wide.

  “…play with those tits, Gemma. Squeeze them. Tug those nipples hard for me.”

  I knew he was kneeling between my legs, knew he was watching as I took my breasts in my hands and squeezed them tight for him. I tweaked my nipples, rolling them between my thumb and forefinger, tugging enough to gasp. I shuddered at another hot breath on my pussy, squeaking in surprise as he slid a wet finger into my asshole. I squirmed, quivering as he worked it back and forth. He was slow... torturously slow, but the tingles, oh, God.

  “Please, Jason... please fuck me...”

  “Shush! I want to feel inside of you.”

  I groaned as he slipped two fingers into my pussy.

  “When did you know you wanted strange men, Gemma?”

  His fingers searched around inside me. I struggled to concentrate on his words. “First time, you mean?”

  “As close as you remember,” he said, sliding his fingers back and forth.

  “Christ, Jason…”

  “Tell me!”

  “It was when I was little. I used to pretend I was on a pirate ship. It was my favourite game. Just me, Princess Gem, and this whole host of rowdy pirates.”

  “Sounds quite a game.”

  “It was a lot of fun. Innocent at first, not so much when I reached puberty.” I groaned again when he hooked his fingers inside me and pressed against my pubic bone. His thumb met my clit at the same time and my pussy was on fire. “Shit, Jason. I need to…”

  “Shush! A gang bang on a pirate ship. I’m sure I’ve seen a porno you’d enjoy.”

  I gasped as another two fingers pushed their way inside me.

  “What happened when you reached puberty? Tell me!”

  “...the pirates got rougher as I got older, touching me, groping, leering, and then they weren’t pirates anymore, just random men, and I’d grope them back.”

  “But you’ve never explored it. Not for real?”

  “Not yet.” The idea gave me shivers. Shiver me timbers. The thought made me giggle out loud,
but it turned into a moan as he pushed in deeper.

  “You like that, dirty girl?”

  I managed a nod.

  “You’re going to take my fist, Gemma, all the way inside… would you like that, dirty girl?”

  Oh fuck. Fuck. I heard the squelch of lube, shivering as he dribbled it over my pussy.

  “Gemma?”

  “Yes, God yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I’d like it. I’d like to feel your fist inside me, Jason.”

  “Good girl …I want you to push onto me, nice and gentle.”

  I took a breath before raising my ass enough to lever myself, groaning as he met my efforts with his own. His knuckles stretched me, his hand squelching as I pushed against him.

  “Does it hurt?” He changed the angle, pushing back in with steady pressure.

  “A little...” I let out a breath, circling my hips as I pushed onto him. “Oh yes…fuck…”

  I could feel my pussy straining to let him in.

  “Nice and easy does it,” he said as he worked his hand slowly from side to side. “Would you like to know what got me hooked on watching women?”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “A kid at school, Sean. He had the hottest girlfriend, Emily Beavan, a cute little blonde with pouty lips. He’d throw parties when the house was free, inviting a load of his stoner mates. Emily used to hang out with them, get drunk on fizzy wine and play cards. One night I needed the bathroom. My mate Steve was flat out asleep but the party was still going strong in the living room. The door was open, and sweet little pissed-up Emily was on her back, legs spread wide with Sean’s grubby fingers inside her. The rest of the crowd was a horny mess, grabbing at her tits and revelling in her tight little predicament.”

  “You watched them?”

  “Wide-eyed and hard-cocked. I’d never seen anything like it. Never seen a real life pussy before. It was the look in her eyes, glazed and drunk, but dirty with it. She was loving it.” He sighed and twisted his hand some more, stretching me tight, fingers stroking the walls of my pussy. “She saw me watching, and she smiled. A really filthy grin. She took a cock in her mouth as they cheered, and let them take turns to finger her snatch, and all the while she knew I was watching. I guess it turned her on as much as me. She always was an attention seeker, I imagine she loved the whole lot of it.” I hissed a little as he worked his knuckles past the opening. “Good girl, almost there…”