Pretty Dirty

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Pretty Dirty Page 7

by Madison Faye

“How’s everything going back— oh my.”

  The sales lady who was helping us earlier comes to stuttering stop in the sitting area, realizing we’re both in the changing booth.

  Shit.

  “I— I— You can’t—”

  “Oh, my boyfriend is just helping me with this zipper,” Zoe calls out.

  I can practically feel the tension disappear as the sales lady audibly lets her breath out. “Oh, yes, of course. And how’s everything feeling today?”

  “Amazing,” Zoe says cheerfully, squeezing my cock with her pussy and making me hide my groan in her neck.

  “And the zipper?”

  “Real tight,” I growl out. “Really, really tight.”

  Zoe snorts into the crook of her arm.

  The sales lady clears her throat. “Do you and your boyfriend need any help?”

  “No, we’ve almost got it,” Zoe calls back as she slowly rises up and then back down my cock. “Actually, he’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Oh?” The sales lady’s voice is chipper with just a hint of curiosity.

  “Yeah, no. He’s really just my sugar daddy.”

  I groan, rolling my eyes into her back.

  “Oh, I— I see.”

  “Yeah, I’m actually his kids’ nanny.”

  “You’re fucking insane,” I growl into her ear as we both hear the sales lady take a sharp breath of air.

  “I— well,” she says brusquely. “I should leave you two—”

  “I mean, it’s great having him buy me stuff and all,” Zoe says loudly, really playing up the part. “But honestly, I’m really in it for the sex.”

  The sales lady gasps sharply.

  “Well, the sex and his huge cock.”

  The quickly retreating footsteps are the last we hear from the poor sales associate.

  “That was mean,” I groan into Zoe’s ear.

  “And hilarious,” she throws back, raising her ass up and then dropping down on my cock and taking all of it. I grunt, my cock pulsing as I give her ass another smack.

  “Fuck does your cock feel fucking amazing,” she gasps, moving her hips faster and faster as she starts to ride me. She bends over, her hands on my knees as she starts to bounce her ass up and down, her tight pink pussy gripping me so tight on every thrust and making my cum boil in my balls. I growl, rocking my hips up to meet her and grabbing her ass firmly with both hands.

  I move one hand down between us, and when my thumb start to circle her tight little asshole, Zoe moans, loudly.

  “Oh fuck, daddy!” she gasps, her pussy milking me as I tease her ass. “Oh my God that feels good.”

  She whimpers, riding my thick shaft faster and faster, her slick pussy cream dripping down my cock and cum-filled balls. I groan, my jaw tight and every muscle in my body tensing as she rides me like a damn cowgirl, bouncing on my cock as the wet sounds of our fucking fill the dressing room.

  My thumb eases against her ass, and when I slip it inside, Zoe goes nuts. She screams — so loudly that I cover her mouth with a hand. She bites it, moaning into my palm as she rolls her hips, fucking back against my thumb and my cock as I fill her tight little body up. I can feel her pussy milking me with soft, velvety ripples, her body starting to tense up, and when I bring my hand from her mouth down to her pussy and start to tease her clit, Zoe fucking explodes.

  She twists her head around and yanks my mouth to hers, screaming into my mouth as her orgasm detonates through her. Her tight, slick, quivering little pussy clenches down so tight on my cock, and when I feel her naughty little asshole clamp down tight around my thumb, I fucking lose it.

  I growl, claiming her lips with mine as the cum blasts from my balls, up through every inch of my pulsing cock, and explodes deep against her womb. My whole body feels like it’s on fire, my balls tightening up as rope after rope of my hot cum fills her pussy to the brim. We keep kissing, our lips locked tight as our bodies slowly come to a panting, gasping stop.

  “No lingerie,” I groan into her lips. “Definitely no lingerie. Actually, no panties ever with me.”

  She bites my lip playfully. “And what if I get cold?”

  “Then you’d better know exactly who to come to to warm that pussy up.”

  “We’ll take the dress,” I say evenly to a bright red, flustered-looking sales lady. The sales associate from the dressing room.

  “The dress, and everything else she tried on and liked, including the shoes.”

  Zoe beams next to me and squeezes my hand tightly.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  The sales lady is doing everything in her power to not make eye contact with either of us as I hand her my credit card, when I suddenly stop.

  “Actually,” I grin. “Do you have any pearls?”

  12

  Zoe

  My jaw drops, and my fingers squeeze his hand a little tighter as we step inside the restaurant.

  “Whoa.”

  Gray grins, squeezing my hand right back as he confidently strolls across the marble-floored entrance of Maison Sauvage, with me in tow. I’ve heard of the place, of course, but I have never been to a restaurant this fancy. Not even freaking close. I swallow, feeling nervous, and like an imposter who doesn’t belong here, even if I am wearing a gorgeous, insanely expensive dress from our shopping excursion this afternoon.

  We hit up three more stores after the place where we emotionally traumatized the poor sales clerk. And each time, I protested, but each time, Gray insisted on buying me armfuls of new clothes. Including this little number. It’s red, and silk, and it falls almost all the way to the floor. It feels sexy as hell on my bare legs, and the huge slit that goes all the way from the hem to high on my thigh has me feeling like some girl out of a James Bond movie.

  I should feel right at home in a place like Maison Sauvage — fancy, and sexy, and on the arm of a gorgeous man in a sharp suit. But instead, I feel like an imposter — like all the people in here can see right through my fancy new dress and see the broken, damaged girl underneath. Maybe it’s the bare sleeves, bare back, and plunging neckline that show off way more ink than anyone else in this place has on display. Or maybe it’s just that I know where I come from, and it’s not a place where you go out to dinner at places like this.

  “You deserve to be here more than anyone else in this fucking place,” Gray purrs in my ear, startling me. “And yes,” he says with a wink, “I’m a mind-reader.”

  I roll my eyes and shrug. “Not what I was thinking.”

  He just arches a brow knowingly, and I feel my face grow warm. He pulls me over to the maître d' stand, and even though I’m sure this place has reservations out for months, the man only smiles broadly at Gray, addresses him as “Mr. Channing,” and leads us through the elegant restaurant towards the back.

  “What are we doing here?” I whisper, tugging on his arm as the maître d' seats us at a small, quiet, round booth and hands us menus.

  Gray turns and grins. “Eating?”

  “No, I mean…” I frown. “You know what I mean. What are we doing here?”

  “Making up for lost time.” He shrugs. “This is me taking you out on a date. A real one, like the kind I feel like I should have taken you on before I paid you a shitload of money to strip for me.”

  I blush, rolling my eyes. “You did do that.”

  I bite my lip and look at him carefully.

  “Why did you? I mean, c’mon, look at you.”

  He grins but I shake my head.

  “No, I mean that. You’re rich, you’re successful—”

  “I work for the mob, Zoe.”

  I nod. “Well, but still. You’ve got money, you have an amazing apartment, and you’re insanely good looking.”

  “Flatterer.”

  I grin.

  “So, why—”

  “Why’d I pay a girl on a cam site to strip for me?”

  I nod.

  “Because you’re fucking perfect,” he growls heatedly, sliding across the booth seat i
nto me and taking my hand. “Because you’re absolutely perfect.”

  I shake my head. “No I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Perfect isn’t hiding under tattoos and scars,” I say quietly.

  “Are you hiding?”

  I think on it. “No, I guess not, but I’m still not perfect.”

  “You look pretty damn perfect to me.”

  “Perfect enough for fifty thousand dollars?”

  “Perfect enough that’d I give the fucking world to have you,” he says, quiet and fierce. “Perfect enough for me to want you more than anything.”

  I swallow, biting my lip as I look up at him. “Have you done this before? I mean, the whole Pretty Woman thing with a cam girl or whoever—”

  “No,” he says shortly, shaking his head and squeezing my hand. “Not at all.”

  Gray orders us a bottle of wine, and we sit back into the deep, dimly lit booth with our glasses while we wait for our food.

  “So, camming.”

  I grin, sipping my wine and glancing up at him. “Yes, counselor?”

  “Joey get you into it?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’d done it before. I mean, it’s really good money, and it’s not like college was on the table with the home life I came from.”

  “You’re good at it.”

  I shrug. “I mean, it’s not my life’s ambition or anything, but, I like it. I’m not ashamed of it. I don’t know, I guess I like my body.”

  “I like your body too.”

  I grin, blushing as his hand toys with mine, his knuckles brushing over the slit in my dress.

  “You know, what we did, in our private sessions…” I shake my head, raking my teeth over my bottom lip. “I’ve never— you know…”

  “What?”

  My face burns hot. “I’ve never gone that dirty, or that dark.”

  Gray’s brow arches. “Oh?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “So why did you?”

  I swallow and drag my eyes up to his and let them burn right into him.

  “You.”

  His look is fierce right back at me, his eyes flashing as they drink me in. “Without a picture, or a name? Or a voice, at that?”

  I shake my head. “There’s something about the way you talked to me, even in chatting. Like, you had this power over me — this commanding presence that just…” I trail off, blushing and looking away. “Nevermind, it sounds stupid.”

  “No it doesn’t,” he growls. His hand reaches up and cups my jaw, raising my chin up. “No, it doesn’t,” Gray says quietly. “I like that you were my dirty girl.”

  “I like being your dirty girl,” I whisper back heatedly, shivering under his gaze. I can still feel his lingering touch from earlier teasing through my body, making my skin tingle and sending a wave of heat through me.

  “You look fucking amazing in that dress, you know,” he purrs. “And those pearls.”

  I shiver, sliding close to him and turning to brush my lips across his ear.

  “What you said earlier…” I whisper, my teeth dragging over his earlobe and eliciting a growl from his lips.

  “I’m not.”

  He turns, his brow furrowed as he tries to read the heated grin on my face. I lean back into his ear, and this time, I let my tongue tease over it.

  “You asked me not to ever wear panties around you, daddy,” I whisper darkly into his ear.

  Gray groans, and I swear I can see the front of his suit pants bulge instantly. He growls, his hand sliding back to the slit on my dress, and his fingers pushing under it. We’re hidden from view back here, and it’s dark, but my breath still catches and my blood still turns to fire in my veins as he uses his fingers to deftly push the red material aside. He pushes it over my bare thigh, and then wider, until my bare, wet, pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.

  “Dirty girl,” he growls lowly, his eyes locked on my little pink slit. His fingers slide over my thigh, and when his knuckles brush over my lips, I gasp quietly.

  “Gray—”

  My voice catches as a waiter walks dangerously close to our table.

  “They can’t see you,” he growls. “And if they did, believe me, I’d take their eyes out.”

  I grin, but when his fingers slide over my pussy lips and ease them open, my mouth falls open.

  “Oh fuck.”

  “Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he growls into my ear. His finger pushes against my opening, and when he slides it easily inside with how fucking wet I am, I whimper and grab his wrist.

  “So fucking wet,” he groans, easing his finger in and out of me. “Spread your legs, baby girl. Spread them wide.”

  “H-here?” I gasp.

  His only response is to roll his fingers over my clit, and I have to bury my moan in his shoulder. And then I do what he says. I spread my legs wide. Two of fingers push back inside, and his thumb starts to rub my clit in slow circles. I moan quietly, sagging into him and clinging to his muscular arm. My hands slide lower to his lap, and when my fingers find his huge bulge there, I gasp quietly as the heat blooms through me.

  Two can play this game.

  I tug his zipper down and slide my hand inside. Gray groans as I wrap my fingers around his big cock. I start to stroke him in time with his fingers on my pussy, sliding my fingers up and down that thick, throbbing shaft. I glance around, and before he can say anything, I suddenly slip his cock out of his pants.

  “Shit, Zoe,” he growls, warning in his voice as he glances around. “Maybe—”

  “Shh,” I purr into his ear, the fire blazing through me as I slowly jerk his fat cock right there in the restaurant booth. “Like I said, daddy,” I purr into his ear, feeling his cock throb in my hand as I say it. “I like being your dirty girl.”

  I pull back and look him right in the eye as I reach out with my other hand and brush it over the table top. My silverware clatters to the ground.

  “Oops,” I whisper innocently. “I dropped my fork.”

  “Zoe, wait—”

  But I’m already sliding down out of the booth and slipping under the tablecloth. My pulse races, and I can feel every inch of my skin burning with the raw need for him. I don’t know what he does to me, but I know one thing: Gray Channing makes me want to submit. He makes me want him to take all of me, however he pleases. He makes me want to drop to my knees under the table of the fanciest restaurant in Las Vegas, wrap my lips around his cock, and suck him as deep into my throat as I can.

  …Which is exactly what I do.

  I moan as his thick, pulsing cock head slips between my lips. I can feel Gray tense, his muscles flexing as he growls quietly.

  “Fuck, Zoe,” he hisses above the table.

  My pulse roars in my ears as I whimper around his cock, slurping wetly and probably louder than I should as I slide my mouth over him. I tug at his pants, yanking them open and reaching inside to cup his heavy balls. Gray groans, and I flick my tongue over his underside as I start to stroke and suck him.

  My hand drops between my legs, and I moan eagerly around him as I find my slick, dripping wet pussy. My fingers rub over my clit beneath my dress as I hum on his cock, sucking him wetly. I drop my lips to his balls, and he hisses as I gently suck them into my mouth. I tongue them, slurping at his heavy sack as I stroke his big, fat cock and play with my little pussy.

  I can hear footsteps, and I freeze as the waiter arrives with our food.

  “Shall I come with with lady’s dinner?”

  “No,” Gray growls out hoarsely. I start to pull away, but when his hand slides under the table and tangles in my hair, pulling me back to him, I eagerly open my mouth and inhale his cock.

  “Fuck,” he groans.

  “Monsieur?”

  “Nothing,” Gray says quickly, his cock throbbing between my tightly sucking lips. “Thank you, she’ll be back shortly.”

  “Very good, sir. Enjoy.”

  The plates hit the table and the footsteps echo away
.

  And then I really start to suck his cock. I moan widely, playing with my clit as I start to slurp on his thick cock fast and wildly. Gray groans, his hips rocking to meet my lips as I inhale as many inches of his big dick as I can deep in my throat. His hand tightens in my hair, and when I reach down and cup his heavy balls, I can feel them start to tighten. I moan louder, my fingers blurring over my clit and my hot, wet mouth sliding up and down his cock until I feel his whole body tense.

  “Zoe—”

  I swallow him whole, and when I feel his big, fat cock head hit the back of my throat, he gasps as he lets go. I moan widely, swallowing his thick, salty sweet cum as he pumps rope after rope of it deep in my throat. My fingers roll over my clit, and I moan around his pulsing cock as my own orgasm crashes over me. I cry out around his cock, whimpering as the climax leaves me breathless and shaking.

  Slowly, I pull away from him, panting and feeling the aftershocks of it all. I lean forward and lick the tip of his cock, swiping at one last sticky sweet drop of cum before I slide out from under the table.

  Gray stares at me with a hungry, heated look, his eyes piercing into me.

  “Fuck, Zoe…” he growls. His hand goes to my thigh, pushing under the dress and gripping me tightly. His fingers slide between my legs, and I moan quietly as he drags them up and down my slick, sticky pussy.

  “Dirty, dirty fucking girl,” he growls into my ear, his fingers teasing me.

  “I just wanted an appetizer,” I giggle, biting my lip and grinning at him. Our eyes lock, and before I know it, I’m falling — feeling like I’ve never even come close to feeling before.

  “And I want dessert, now,” he growls. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Uh-uh, no way,” I stick my tongue out at him and then look at my plate hungrily, my stomach growling. “This place is supposed to have amazing food, and I’m starving.”

  He groans, but he smiles at me. “Alright, alright.”

  He slips a finger inside my pussy, and I gasp, my hand tightening on the tablecloth as he curls it inside me. He pulls it out, and I watch with my pulse roaring as he brings it to his lips. He sucks his finger inside and growls as he licks my cream off of it.

 

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