by Jade West
“Oh my fucking God,” I said. “What the fuck?”
Tess flicked it open to the centre spread where Chelsea greeted me in full colour, sprawled across the pages in a black and gold scarf, and not much else.
“Good night at the club, then?”
I scanned the text. My dirty night with Singers legend, Jason Redfern. He was so good, so hot... we made love at mine, until the sun came up, and he told me I was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.
“This is utter bullshit,” I said. “She tried to kiss him and he pushed her away. She slept here, cried for about three hours straight.”
“Seems she’s had chance to think things over,” Tessa said. “I guess she got what she wanted. She always wanted to pull a footballer. Must have figured it didn’t have to be in real life.”
“This isn’t right, Tessa. She’s lying.”
She shrugged. “She won’t be the first, and she won’t be the last. Her five minutes of fame, hey? She’s always wanted it.”
“That’s someone’s life. He’s married, and he really wasn’t interested.”
“He’s probably got a few million in the bank and more shit to worry about than Chelsea’s little tall tale. He’ll be used to it.”
I read some more. An absolute load of horseshit. “This isn’t such a little tall tale, Tess. It’s pure fantasy.”
“You know what she’s like. She probably thinks this is her best shot. Pull her up on it, then, if it means that much to you.”
“Oh, I will,” I said. “Don’t you worry about that.”
Chelsea tried her best to avoid me. It took me all afternoon to track her down, finally running into her outside her flat while she pretended to dodge reporters. Reporters outside Chelsea’s flat — just what she’d always wanted. She looked thoroughly bemused as I turned up, and shoved me inside faster than a lickety-split, before I could open my mouth to the papers, no doubt.
“Hi,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“Cut the crap.” I shoved the paper at her.
“Yeah, I have read it,” she grinned. “Did you see my picture? I look good in the Singers’ colours, don’t I?”
“I wouldn’t say you are exactly in the Singers’ colours.” I stared at her for long awkward seconds. “Why did you lie?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not lying, it’s just a bit of exaggeration. I did kiss him. He did pull me out of the crowd. We did have our photo taken together.”
“The article is bullshit and you know it.”
“Yeah, so?” She folded her arms. “He’s Jason Redfern. Like he’s going to give a shit about my little kiss and tell.”
“And his wife?!”
“Is a bitch. Everyone says so. Everyone who knows her.”
“Your friends, you mean? I’m sure their word is gospel.”
“She doesn’t even love him, that’s the rumour. It’s all for the papers, sad cow.”
“Jesus, Chelsea, pot kettle.”
She led me through to her tiny box of a living room, shoving a contract in my face. “Fifteen grand they paid me for that. Another five if I’ll get my tits out next week.”
I scanned the contract. “Fucking hell, Chelsea, what have you done?”
“Made it,” she beamed. “I’ve made it. Arrived. I’m a model now, for real.”
“At someone else’s expense,” I snapped. “I can’t believe you think this is ok.”
Her eyes turned cold. “Why do you give a shit so much? Like you care about Jason fucking Redfern, you don’t even know who he is.”
“I don’t need to,” I said. “I’m sure he eats and sleeps and bleeds. Same as the rest of us.”
“Yeah, eats caviar and sleeps in his mansion. I don’t think he’ll be losing any shuteye over my little story.”
“You’d better hope not,” I said. “Because if anyone asks me about it, I’m going to tell them the truth.”
Her mouth slammed shut, eyes like coals. “You wouldn’t!”
Maybe she didn’t know me so well, after all.
***
Jason
“Well, you know that’s bollocks. Did I look like I’d just got in from a night making sweet love to that little bitch?”
“I know it’s bollocks, Jason,” April seethed. “Because the real story would be so much fucking seedier.” She dumped the paper in the bin. “She’s got no idea. It sounds like fucking Disney.”
“Always has to be a dig in there, even when I’m innocent.”
“I wouldn’t call it innocence,” she said. “This story just happens to be bullshit. I’ll get onto PR.”
I groaned. “Fucking PR. Can’t we just ignore it?”
“Oh yeah, and let her bathe in the spotlight? Next she’ll be eating fucking bugs in the jungle, maybe wanking off a pig or two for daytime TV. A little slut like that’s going to milk it for everything she’s worth.”
April had a fucking point for once.
“Her friend will know,” I said. “If someone could find her and just ask her.”
She laughed in my face. “Who’s going to do that? You?! Like you’ll ever find her stupid friend.”
No. Not me. How could I?
Shit. I fisted my hands in my hair.
I met Richard Cowley after training, at the back of an old industrial unit ten miles out from the ground. He pulled up in a brand new saloon, and jumped in the passenger seat of the Range without a word.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Long fucking time no see,” he said. “Got some garbled message from Steve Dean, what’s going on? This about that shit in the papers?”
“No,” I said. “The papers are an unfortunate hindrance.”
“To what?”
I spat it out. “The old days, Rich. They were fun, right?”
He smiled. “Wild, yeah. Didn’t think I’d hear you going on about that shit anytime soon. Thought that was all done.”
“It was. Until I met someone.”
“Not April, I assume?”
I laughed aloud. “What do you think?”
“I think Hell might freeze fucking over first. So, who is this girl?”
“I met her on chatline a few months ago. Her name is Gemma. She wants to be fucked by strange men. Lots of them.”
His turn to laugh. “Like her, do you?”
“Enough to want to see her fucked raw by a load of strange men,” I laughed. “I’m not sure that makes it the real deal.”
He smirked. “Who gives a fuck? I’ll nail her, if that’s what you’re asking. Engagement broke up a while back, could do with a good fuck.”
“It’s going to be a bit harder with all this press shit going down. I was hoping I could be there, but I’m going to have to rain check. I’ll find another way to make my presence known.”
“Yeah, whatever. You want me to fuck her, on my own?”
“First time,” I smiled. “If you’re up for that. She’ll be blindfolded and you’ll be anonymous. Then we’ll get something together, you, me, Steve, and the Carlisle brothers if they want in.”
“They’ll want in. Saw them a few weeks back, pulling some drunk bird and taking her back for a Carlisle sandwich.”
“Bring them in the loop, if you can.”
“Will do,” he said. “So, when do you want me?”
I told him the plan.
***
Chapter Fourteen
Gemma
Jason: I need your schedule for the week.
The message pinged as I was grinding my toes into the testicles of some gruff old guy who must have been at least seventy. It put me off my stride and the caller hung up, leaving me free to text back. His reply came much quicker than I expected.
Jason: 4pm today. You’ll get the tube to Elephant & Castle. Take your blindfold. Dress for sex. Text me when you arrive at the other end. Understand?
My fingers trembled as I texted back a shaky Yes.
I looked over my shoulder every step of the way, checking out every ma
n on the platform, then every man on the tube, as my mind went into overdrive. The station was quiet when I sent my arrival text, and he called back instantly. His voice sounded hollow, like he was in a cave. Or a bathroom.
“Down the street to your left, keep walking. You will see a pub, the Black Swan. I want you to go inside, straight to the back, toilets are downstairs. Don’t speak a word, just make your way down and stand in a cubicle. I want you facing the toilet, legs spread with your blindfold on. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Text me when you get there.”
“Okay.”
“Good girl. I hope you’re ready for this.”
I hoped so, too.
I was shaking like a leaf when the pub came into view. It was open, as promised, with a few old boys sat at the bar and nobody else besides. I wondered if any of them would be joining me, unsure if the idea excited or repulsed me. I went down the dimly lit stairs and entered the toilets and hurried into a cubicle. My mouth was paper-dry, legs like jelly. I folded my coat onto the cistern, then sent the arrival text. He rang immediately.
“Talk to me, dirty girl, are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to put the phone on speaker and place it on the cistern. I want to hear everything.”
“You aren’t coming?”
“No,” he said, simply. “Do you trust me?”
I must have been fucking crazy. “Yes, I trust you.”
“Good girl.” His breath was fast, excited. “In a few minutes a man is going to come down and find you. He’s going to take you rough, from behind. He’s going to fuck that sweet little pussy and you’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to moan for me, tell me how good he feels. You’re going to let him do whatever I’ve asked him to do, and you’re going to come for me.”
“Oh fuck, Jason...” Panic threatened, adrenaline racing. I fought the urge to run.
“Do you want this?” he said. “Play with those gorgeous tits and tell me you want this.”
I teased a nipple through my dress. It was hard, ready. My thighs were warm. “Yes, I want this. Oh fuck, Jason, I want this.”
“Good girl. You have the blindfold on?”
I placed the phone on top of my folded coat and pulled the blindfold on. “Yes. It’s on.”
“Play with yourself. Tell me when you’re ready for the stranger’s cock, Gemma.”
I reached down between my thighs, slipping my fingers inside my knickers. My ears strained for footsteps, for anything, but there was only Jason’s voice on speakerphone. I played with my clit like my life depended on it, small fast circles until the ache started to build. I can do this.
I could hear Jason playing, too. Just like old times. “That’s right, good girl. Make yourself wet for him. Tell me when you’re ready.”
Ready? Sweet Jesus. “Okay, I’m ready... Oh God, Jason... I can’t believe I’m doing this...”
“Slide your panties down, dirty girl. Bend over for him, I want you spread wide, pussy begging for cock. I want him to see how fucking good you are for me.”
“Oh fuck...”
Noises from the stairway. Heavy steps. I was shivering, hands propped on the toilet seat with my bare ass on offer. The door creaked open and I fought the urge to turn around. A click of a lock, and there was a man in the room with me. I could hear him breathing.
Hot hands on my hips made me jump forward, but they pulled me back. A strong grip. The strange hands kneaded soft flesh, running a wet finger down my ass crack to slide inside my pussy. Slowly, deliberately. I let out a squeak.
“Oh yes, dirty girl... fuck, yes...”
I focused on Jason’s voice, body on fire as the silent stranger slipped his thumb to my clit. It tingled, my whole pussy quivering. The rustle of a packet and I knew what was coming. He wasn’t gentle and he wasn’t fucking small, slamming his cock all the way in to the balls. They felt big against my thighs, so much looser than Jason’s. I squealed, reeling against the strange intrusion, but fuck, it felt so good. When solid hands reached for me I was ready, arching my back to give him my tits. He wrenched down my dress, and my breasts fell loose and he squeezed them and mashed them against me.
“Fuck...” I breathed. “Oh yes...”
“Tell me what he’s doing to you.”
“He’s got my tits, Jason. He’s got his hands all over me. Oh, fuck, that feels good.”
“You want him to play rough, don’t you?”
And I did, I did want him to play rough. “Yes! Please, fuck, oh yes!” The stranger responded, held his cock still, all the way inside me as his big calloused hands pressed my tits together. His fingers twisted my nipples, pulling them down low and jiggling my tits until they slapped against my belly. “Jesus!”
Jason’s voice was raspy. “I can hear you, Gemma, I can hear those gorgeous tits.”
“Yes! It feels so fucking good!”
The stranger grunted and flattened himself against my back. He had a belly, it sagged into the crook of my spine as his breath tickled my ear. He stank of lager, and cigarettes. I fought a strange urge to kiss him. The thought made me horny and repulsed at the same time.
He pulled his cock away, and slid in slow and deep, over and over until my pussy was squelching with need. I wondered if Jason could hear it.
“Tell him how good he feels in your cunt, Gemma. Tell him how much you want him.”
“Fuck, yes... you feel so good... please...”
Big fat fingers wrapped around, poking at my clit without finesse. He was rough, grinding my most tender places against my pubic bone, but I didn’t fight him.
“I want you to kiss him, Gemma, I want you to kiss him like you want him. Suck on his tongue, dirty girl, I want to hear you.”
“Oh fuck, Jason, fuck...” My stomach churned, but still I turned my face to his, opening my mouth as a big wet tongue lapped at my lips. It was sloppy, and humiliating, and revolting, but fuck it turned me on.
“Good fucking girl.”
The stranger lifted my leg, shunting me forward until my cheek was against my coat, my nose pushing against the handset on top. He raised my foot onto the toilet seat and pushed his cock into me, and he was so much deeper now, my pussy aching and clenching tightly around him. He worked my clit so hard it felt bruised, but slowly the tingles started.
“Oh shit, Jason, shit... he’s so fucking deep in me. So fucking deep.”
“Tell me.”
“Oh fuck, he’s rough, Jason, he’s so rough... and I like it... I want it... fuck I want it. Fuck, yes! Fuck me! Fucking fuck me! Please fuck me!”
I unravelled, slamming back into his thick nasty cock while he grunted and groaned and mashed the shit out of my clit. My tits slapped against the cold cistern, and my breath came out ragged, and none of it mattered, just the swell of him in that deep place, where it felt so fucking good.
“I’m coming... oh fuck, fuck... I’m coming, Jason... I’m fucking coming for him... I love him in me... I fucking love it!”
Jason’s filthy accomplice grunted and groaned, slamming his flabby belly against my ass as he rode the fuck out of my pussy. I heard Jason’s breath, and then his moans, short, low growls as he came on the other end of the line.
When the stranger behind me shot his load, he jerked my head back by my hair and forced his filthy fat fingers down my throat. I choked and coughed and spat all over him as he jammed his cock inside my burning pussy. He made a squelch as he withdrew, taking just a few moments to catch his breath and pull up his jeans.
I listened to him walk away, relaxing as the door creaked and shut behind him.
I pulled my dress up around my tits, without removing my blindfold, then smoothed it down over my ass. My clit was sore, tender as I slid my knickers back up.
“Gemma? You can take the blindfold off now, it’s over.”
I took it off, turned loudspeaker off and brought the phone to my ear.
“I’m here.”
“Are you ok?”
My heart was thrumming, legs so weak. I flopped myself down onto the toilet seat. Was I ok? It took me a few moments to work it out, but when I did there was only one answer.
I smiled, giggly and euphoric.
“Fucking hell, Jason, that was really amazing.”
***
I would’ve exploded if I hadn’t booked a last minute slot down at Dirty Angels. I made it deliberately late, wrapping up at the same time as one of Cara’s open ballet sessions. I don’t think it took a mind reader to work out why I was there, and Cara dutifully dragged me on down to the Devonshire Arms as though it was her idea.
Raven was off with the green-eyed girl, planning some custom wedding invites apparently, so it was just me and my chocolate-eyed confidant. She listened, and she giggled, and she let me gush to my heart’s content, the makings of a true friend.
And then she invited me to Explicit again.
“Bring him!” she insisted. “You must bring him! You’d have so much fun, and you could still do the blindfold thing. Hell, there are loads of cool people there, you’d never run out of combinations to fuck.”
“I’ll try,” I promised. “He didn’t seem so keen last time I suggested it.”
“Work on it,” she said. “You’ll love it there.”
I caught her staring at me over her snakebite and black, a curious expression on her face. “What?” I asked. “What is it?”
“Don’t you want to know what he looks like?”
The thought flushed my face. “Sometimes. I dunno. It’s my fantasy, the stranger who’ll fuck me like I need to be fucked. Seeing his face might kill it. Make it too real, you know? Before you know it we’d be chilling out for TV nights, and then we’d be doing the shopping together. Maybe he’d even give me a ride in his truck, let me toot the horn.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Yeah, that’s bad. That’s not what I want. I don’t want to drift into a normal crappy life with someone who makes me feel so alive.”
“And if it didn’t drift? If it was something good?”
How I wished. I really wished. “He’s married, technically. And who knows? He might like watching soaps and eating couscous. He might like sleeping with his socks on in bed, and organising food in colour order in the fridge.”