Dirty Bad Strangers

by Jade West

  “Hello, Mr Stranger.”

  “How many times, dirty girl?”

  “A few.”

  “Are you sore?”

  “I can feel it...”

  “Tell me.”

  I could hear traffic at the end of the line. “Are you driving?”

  “No. I’m parked. Close enough to be at yours in twenty minutes. Tell me about your sore pussy, dirty girl.”

  “I’m walking down the street, Jason,” I hissed. “Anyone could hear me.”

  “Tell me about your pussy, Gemma. Now.”

  “Yes, I’m sore. Yes, it hurts. Yes, I want you in twenty minutes, I want you to open me up where it hurts and make me feel all better again.”

  “Fuck, yes, dirty girl. Call me when you’re ready, I’ll be right over.”

  Crazy. Fucking crazy. But I was still smiling when I let myself in, bouncing on through the living room to check Tessa’s schedule. Except I didn’t need to. Loud dramatic sobs, and Tessa’s soothing voice sounded loud from the kitchen.

  “It’ll blow over, I’m sure it will.”

  “No it won’t! I’m a laughing stock, a big, stupid joke.”

  Chelsea.

  I groaned inside.

  I joined them in the kitchen, and sure enough there she was. Sat up on the worktop with her eyes screwed shut, her face a blotchy mess of smeared make-up.

  “Shit, what’s happened?”

  Tessa answered my question while Chelsea went in for another round of sobbing.

  “The papers have photos of Jason Redfern leaving the club, alone. His wife says he was home with her from two a.m.”

  I fought back the urge to say I told you so. It’s never attractive, not even when it’s warranted.

  “Oh dear.” I congratulated myself on my lame-arsed response.

  “They all hate me!” Chelsea cried. “Everyone’s laughing at me.”

  “I’m sure you’re not the first,” I said. “And you certainly won’t be the last.”

  “My career is over. Blown. Finished. I’ll have to crawl back to Hatfield with my tail between my legs.”

  Tessa stroked her hair like a real mother hen. “That’s a bit dramatic.”

  “I will! Reporters are outside my door and I had to turn my phone off it was ringing so much.” Her eyes widened in horror. “What if they want their money back?! I don’t have it!”

  “We’ll deal with that if it happens,” I said.

  She half-snotted, half-sobbed into her hands. “You don’t hate me?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No. Of course I don’t hate you. I think you’ve been an idiot, but we all have our moments.”

  Tessa locked me in an apologetic stare. “I’ve got to go to work, I’m sorry. I said Chelsea could have my room tonight.”

  My heart sank. Shit.

  “I’ll go,” Chelsea bawled. “If you don’t want me here.”

  “It’s not that,” I said. “I had plans.” I pulled her into a hug, after all, that’s what friends do. “Of course you can stay.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’m really grateful.”

  I damn well hoped so.

  ***

  Jason

  Gemma: Change of plans, sorry. Chelsea sobbing over footballer-gate. Can’t throw her to the wolves. xx

  They would be wolves as well. Didn’t I know it. I was more pissed off than the situation warranted. Balls fucking aching and fists bunching at the steering wheel. I forced myself to reply.

  Ok. What time is she leaving?

  I waited for the answer.

  Gemma: She’s not. Tessa said she could stay. Sorry. xx

  Fuck it. I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and sped away. I’d been parked up at services over an hour, avoiding passers-by with my usual crappy disguise. The girl was driving me fucking crazy.

  April was out when I got home, living it up and giving a happy face to the press, no doubt. At least she hadn’t roped me in.

  I went through to my bedroom and fired up the laptop, updating my social media feeds with the same old ’Singers are the best’ shit before venturing onto my usual haunts. I didn’t search for my usual brutal gangbang phrase. This time I looked elsewhere.

  BBW pussy pump.

  The thumbnails loaded, and my hand was already down my jeans. Vince wasn’t lying. This shit was hot.

  I’d seen pussy pumping before; on sweet, skinny little pussy without all that much to fucking pump. That was horny enough. Juicy, big pussy was a whole other league. I clicked on a video, settling back against the cushions to see a pair of big thighs spread wide. The woman was bigger than Gemma, her belly rippling as heavy hands fastened the pump to her mound. She had such a big slit, deep red pussy lips that would swallow your whole fucking hand before you were even inside her. She groaned as the huge glass cup was pressed into place and the pump sucked on her, breathing heavy as her fleshy mound swelled up tight inside the glass. She filled the whole fucking cup, a big, puffed up pussy.

  My hand worked my cock, mouth watering as she took a fat dick down her throat. Yes. Fuck yes. The video cut forward, and her pussy was crimson, the cup jammed full of her sweet chubby gash. It was wet, too. Wet enough that the cup made a squelch as a rough hand pulled it off. I groaned aloud at the sight. She was swollen massive, ripe and wet and so fucking horny. The hand grabbed at her, squeezed her swollen flesh between his fingers. It looked so fucking soft, jiggling away in his grip. He prised her lips apart, and they were so big he could hardly find his way inside her. She groaned and gasped and wriggled like a slut as he buried his face in that engorged pussy and I thought of pumping Gemma’s beautiful cunt, pumping it all swollen and red, burying my face in it, nipping her puffed-up pussy lips with my teeth, sucking on her swollen clit until my dirty girl begs me to pound her hard, and...

  I shot my load all over the laptop screen, stars dancing behind my eyes as my cock jerked in my hand.

  Then I went internet shopping.

  ***

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gemma

  Eventually Chelsea stopped sobbing. She curled up on the sofa like a little girl lost while I dipped in and out of the bedroom to take my calls. With her make-up washed away she looked so much younger, like the gangly little girl I’d played hopscotch with.

  “Things do blow over,” I said. “Always.”

  “Not this time. I’m nothing but a joke.”

  “You’re not a joke. You’re just a normal human being who made a mistake.”

  “A big mistake. Massive. There’s a whole Twitter trend about what a loser I am.”

  I actually felt sorry for her. Who on earth wants that kind of shit? Infamous on the world wide web, where the whole world bitches at your expense. It gave me the shivers for her.

  “You’ve got us, Chelsea, always.”

  “I’ll never get any modelling work now, not unless it’s a joke piece.”

  “Who can say?” I said, although I suspected there was some truth in that.

  She called it a night at just gone one a.m. I heard her crying through the wall awhile until she quieted down. Poor cow. The lines were busy, perverts galore, wanting piss and shit and sugar, and everything else in between.

  I was expecting my adult baby man to redial when I picked up the handset at two.

  “I’m going to pump your sweet pussy, dirty girl.”

  His voice hit me right between the thighs. Sweet fuck.

  “Jason...”

  “I want to see you pumped. Want to pull those swollen lips open and suck on your tender fucking clit. You want that, don’t you?”

  I didn’t even need to think about it. “Fuck, Jason… Yes, I want that.”

  “I want you dirty girl. I want your gorgeous tits in my face, your swollen pussy around my cock. I want to pound you and watch you come for me, want to hear the sweet little moans you make.”

  My hand roamed between my legs, fingers pushing inside me. I could still feel him there. “I want you,” I hissed. “I can’t stop
. Don’t want to stop.”

  “Tomorrow,” he rasped. “Promise me.”

  “I can’t... I don’t know...”

  “Promise me.”

  I hesitated just a second. “Ok, but not here. I don’t have the place to myself.”

  “I’ll pick you up. Seven sharp.”

  And he was gone.

  ***

  Gemma

  Making my escape from Tessa and Chelsea was a close call. Dirty Angels, I’d said, and they’d asked me to cancel. I’d told them about my burlesque show, the only thing I could think of, only now they wanted to come. I’d rather have danced naked in front of my Uncle Jim, it would have been considerably less embarrassing than strutting my half naked stuff in front of Chelsea.

  I prayed Jason would pull up quick, before I was rumbled. He did. I practically threw myself in the passenger seat, and let out a sigh of relief as we pulled away.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Steve’s,” he said simply. “But you won’t be fucking Steve tonight, not unless you insist.”

  I shook my head. “No. I just want you.”

  I could feel him smiling. “I missed you, dirty girl. I jacked off all over my laptop screen. It’s been a while since that happened.”

  “It wasn’t my dazzling personality you were missing, then?”

  “That, too.”

  I turned my head in his direction, fighting back the impulse to rip my blindfold off and be done with it, damned the consequences. Would I recognise him? Would his face be just like the one I imagined through my fingertips? I was churning it over when his hand landed on my knee.

  “I was serious, Gemma. I missed you, not just your sweet pussy.”

  “Is that your idea of romance?”

  “As if you want romance.”

  “True,” I giggled. “Good job I don’t, hey?”

  “I can do romance,” he said. “I can do rose petals and candlelight and foot massages. I can even do cuddling in bed, and coffee in the morning. Under the right circumstances, that is. I’m not all filth, Gemma, it’s just been a long time.”

  “I can’t,” I said, humour all gone. “Romance makes me nervous. It squicks me out.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “Then I guess we’ll have to settle for pussy pumping and a hot dose of anal, won’t we?”

  I’d happily settle for that.

  ***

  Jason

  The guest room at Steve’s was already made up. I backed Gemma to the bed and forced her down, burying my face between her legs like she’d been gone a thousand years. She grabbed my hair, ground herself against my mouth.

  “Yes,” she said. “Suck my clit, Jason, fucking suck me.”

  I’d fucking suck her, alright. My parcel hadn’t arrived in time, and I’d sent Steve on a mission around London to find what I needed. He’d practically begged me to join in, but the idiot owed me one. Debt repaid.

  I shifted Gemma up onto the bed, and she didn’t hesitate as I cuffed her wrists to the headboard. I yanked her dress down over her perfect tits, palming them hard before giving them a decent slap. Her nipples hardened at the assault, ripe for my tongue.

  “I need you to stay still, dirty girl, still enough to take the pump.”

  She nodded.

  It took a few attempts to get it right but she didn’t grumble. I watched her gorgeous pussy bloom for me, swelling inside the suction pump like a perfect wet clam. I watched her flesh darken, loving the way she twitched and moaned as it grew tight.

  I tweaked her nipples. “Does it hurt, dirty girl?”

  “A little,” she said. “It feels weird.”

  “I can stop.”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s a good weird.”

  I lay down beside her, fingers teasing the soft flesh of her belly, the lips of her pussy jutting up into the glass cup like a perfect peach. “I like you here, at my mercy.”

  “You really want to see me like this?” she whispered. “All swollen and weird.”

  I rubbed the head of my cock against her thigh. “There’s your answer.” I tilted her face, grazing her lips with mine.

  “Kiss me,” she murmured. “Please...”

  I opened her mouth with my tongue, met hers with forceful sweeps. I kissed her deep and wet, then sucked on her bottom lip as the pump worked its magic. She groaned, thighs lolling wide as I finally released her from the pressure. She cried out as I gripped her puffy mound between my fingers. She was so soft, cold too. I loved the way she felt to the touch, bloated and ripe.

  “Oh God, Jason. God, that feels so fucking weird.”

  I ran my tongue across her in flat, wet strokes. Then crushed my mouth into her. So fucking soft. Her clit was swollen so big between my lips. She squirmed and bucked, breath erratic.

  “I could suck on this sweet pussy all fucking night long.”

  “Please... oh God...”

  I pulled her apart, pushed my face into her puffy lips, probing with my tongue until I found my way inside her. Gorgeous.

  “Can you feel this, dirty girl? Feel how fucking bloated your cunt is?”

  “Fuck yes...”

  “I love you like this.”

  “Fuck me, Jason,” she hissed. “Hard!”

  I covered her body with mine, teasing my cock into her puffy slit. She felt so good around me, slippery, soft and deliciously wet. I pushed my way in so slowly, holding myself in position while she wrapped her ankles around my calves.

  “This might take all night,” I whispered. “All fucking night, Gemma.”

  “Please...”

  “You want that?”

  “God yes... fuck me!”

  Torturous thrusts, teasing and controlled. She jangled her cuffs, biting her lip as I tormented her. I watched every single breath on her lips, every jerk of her head. Savoured every little gasp and rasp she made. Pounded her swollen cunt as she cried out for more.

  When I finally came inside her it was without fanfare. My breath in her face, forehead pressed to hers. I filled her pussy quietly, slipping from her with a soft moan.

  She was half-asleep, smiling gently as I unbuckled her cuffs. I rubbed her wrists before letting go, and she rolled onto her side with her knees to her chest, sinking into the pillows with a sigh.

  “You want to go home now, Gem?”

  She shook her head, wriggling her way under the covers.

  I got the light, plunging us into darkness.

  And then I settled down beside her.

  ***

  Gemma

  Slivers of dawn bled around the curtains. My mouth was parched. Dry as a bone. I made out the shape of a glass on the cabinet, blinking a few times to focus. Water went down a dream. I put the empty glass back and shuffled back under the covers. That’s when it struck me.

  I could see.

  The room was a mass of shadows and dark shapes, but I could see them.

  Jason’s arm tightened around my waist.

  Shit. I patted around the pillow for my blindfold. It wasn’t far away.

  I’d almost slipped it back on before temptation bit. It was dark... too dark to see clearly... a glimpse wouldn’t even count... not really.

  Gently I rolled over, eyes screwed shut until I was certain he was still asleep. His breath was even on my face, deep.

  I opened my eyes.

  The tangle of hair on the pillow was dark against the fabric. So, he wasn’t a blonde after all. I could just make out the heavy arch of his brows, the ghosting of stubble across his jaw. I slowly reached out and touched the face I knew so well, gentle flutters of my fingertips. He didn’t stir.

  My heart was pounding, guilty at breaking the rules, but I couldn’t stop. I carefully pulled down the covers to see more of him, almost letting out a gasp as I saw the dark promise of tattoos on pale skin. I couldn’t make them out, but traced them anyway with the lightest of touches.

  His eyes flickered open. “Gemma?”

  “Hey,” I whispered.

  He
shifted, blinking. “Where’s your blindfold?”

  “It fell off.”

  He reached behind my head, searching for it, but I grabbed his wrist. “Not yet.”

  “This isn’t in the rules.”

  “I can hardly see you, Jason. Just enough.”

  “It’ll be light soon.”

  “Please, just for a minute.”

  He reached for my face, running his thumb along my jaw. “One minute.”

  “You’re one hot cookie, aren’t you? Kept that one quiet.”

  “How’s your pussy, dirty girl?”

  Fuck, how I loved to watch his mouth move. “Bearing up.”

  He was on me in a heartbeat, his weight pinning me down as he rolled his hips against mine. I was still swollen. Tender. Horny. “Look at me, Gemma. I want you to watch me fuck you.”

  My eyes locked on his, dark pools of want in the shadows. “This is a one off,” I whispered. “Just a one off.”

  “Don’t fucking shut your eyes. I want you to see me, dirty girl, just this once. Just like this.”

  I kept my eyes wide open.

  ***

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gemma

  Curiosity killed the cat, but cats don’t learn. Once the itch started, it wouldn’t let up. Questions upon questions upon questions, all of them waltzing around one central topic. Who is he? Who is my dirty bad stranger?

  I was ready to go by the time Steve knocked at the door. Jason had long bolted for work, kissing me goodbye before the day truly broke. His shadowy image danced behind my eyes. It made me smile.

  “Come in,” I said. “Morning.”

  I heard Steve enter the room. “Jason said to drop you home.” An awkward silence. “I’m sorry about the other night, didn’t mean to weird you out.”

  “It’s ok.”

  “Guess you got things sorted.”

  I could only imagine my crazy hair, the post-fuck glow on my cheeks. “We’re working on it.”

  “I’d best get you home.” I heard him take a few steps forward. “Do you, um, are you gonna keep the blindfold on?”