Sordida

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Sordida Page 3

by Jason Andrews


  Her only hope now of getting anywhere close to more information about the club was to state that she was taken there as an escort to watch a hunt. To have witnessed a wealthy couple seek and find a poor willing male to fuck him while watching behind two-way glass mirrors as he fucked unaware. Cementing the idea in her head that she was there that night of Jake’s performance, Amercia convinced herself she could come across undoubted despite that the prospect of having been there in her mind was fucked up.

  Amercia closed the laptop to head to her bed for a good night’s sleep because of an early start working at the supermarket store in the morning for a few hours. Tomorrow can’t come quick enough, she thought, game on! Just as she moved from the sofa to the single bed which was pushed far up against a wall in the bedsit, her mobile phone started ringing only this time the screen displayed caller unknown.

  “Hi this is Amercia, what do you want at this time of night?”

  “It’s me, Jake. Something has been playing on my mind all day. I need to see you again; I need to talk to you. Can I book you in for another session this coming Friday afternoon at three?”

  “Jake – I think I know where Sordida is. It’s about thirty miles east of Plymouth, I know where the industrial estate is too, it’s behind there. I had to do a bit of digging around on the internet tonight.”

  “Don’t go,” Jake shouted down the phone to interrupt her. “I so fucking well mean it, I told you in confidence, I needed to tell you about that shit, certainly not for you to organise an investigation. If you start lurking about in there, you’ll come worse off. I haven’t told you the half of it, everything is complicated, and I told you that already.”

  “No worries don’t fret about it. I don’t want you having a panic attack on me, so I’ll see you on Friday. You know the drill already at sixty pounds for the hour, cash only.”

  “Do you have any red or black leather thigh high boots. I also want to talk to you knowing that you are not wearing any underwear that day. Is that good with you?”

  “I’ll look forward to meeting you Friday at three, Jake. I’ll make sure I am not wearing any panties.”

  Amercia then ended the call, her eyelids were heavy, and she needed to sleep.

  I’m coming for you, Sordida, about time you met this bitch.

  Three

  A

  mercia stared thoughtfully at her mobile phone; she had been fixated on the time for almost fifteen minutes as she waited impatiently for the clock to hit one o’clock. Having finished an excruciating shift at the supermarket stacking one bakery shelf after another all morning, she was unsure if she could look at a loaf of bread again. The thought of making that phone call today to discuss what should be the existence of Sordida swinger’s club kept her mind diverted from the tedious duty of replacing near out of date items in a shopping aisle for fresh ones. It was playing on her mind.

  Standing outside on this Thursday afternoon with the autumn breeze blowing her hair as the sun was barely visible from the cloudy skies, she leant back on the wall from behind her place of work to contemplate making the call. It was almost one o’clock, and she had the story embedded in her mind to convince the guy from the forum from last night that she had witnessed a sex game often played by the club’s members. With the time on her mobile now at one precisely, Amercia dialled the number, then held the phone to her ear as it rang.

  “Hello,” Amercia hesitated as she answered after a few rings, “It’s me from last night, I wanted to talk about Sordida. You asked me to call today at exactly one, no sooner or later. Do you remember?”

  Amercia walked away from the supermarket to make the call more private between them both. A group of people were in earshot pushing a few shopping trollies that clanged together as they walked them to their cars. The noise was irritating her; it was a jingle-jangle of metal against a rough pavement right up there with scraping nails down a chalkboard for sounds that make you wince.

  “Why did you message me, Amercia. If you know the highlights of our hunt evenings, then you know how we keep our Sordida affairs strictly confidential. You should know we don’t do business like this?”

  Amercia stopped dead in her tracks; her heart rate sped up to the point where she could feel her heart pounding in her chest like a small drum. How did he know her name?

  “How did you find out my name. I never gave you my name, just my forum username. I don’t even know your name?”

  “Thank you for bringing that thread on the forums to my attention though. I have since now removed all trace of it. Sordida has a strict code of discretion and trust; it wasn’t meant to be that obvious. What did you want from us?”

  Amercia didn’t give an immediate response; she looked up at the sky to provide herself with a few seconds of thinking time, every second now was vital. This conversation was her only chance of a way into Sordida’s network. Adaptable communication was another one of her best skills, so now was no better time than to kick them into action. Fucking hell, she thought, what the fuck do I say now?

  “I was curious to see if there was any mention of it online because I’ve not been there in a while and I’d like to return soon. I’m unfortunately single again, so I was checking if it was still open for business because I could use the extra money. You still haven’t said how you know my name because I know I did not tell you I was called Amercia?”

  “I searched your mobile number online after you called me, you didn’t set it up as private. In short, I found your escort page with your picture, number and name all over it. You haven’t been all that discreet, and as an escort, I have assumed that since you’re aware of the hunt evening events, you have either participated in the voting or involved in the catch. One or the other, or even both.”

  Amercia wanted to sound convincing.

  “Both. I’ve voted many times and the catch only the once.”

  She had assumed that the catch referenced to going out to clubs and finding men to lure back for others to watch fucking. Voting, on the other hand, was something new into the situation of events she had no idea about, but she assumed that by sounding confident and assertive without being specific he would believe her. He was forthcoming with the information that gave no indication he disputed her story.

  “Voting is the best part; it’s great watching the women go out and hunt their finds. Nothing quite so satisfying as watching the girls bring back their strange men and fuck them senseless as we watch from behind the walls. Sometimes it’s so great we are left with no choice other than to wank it out behind the mirrors. Sordida has recently introduced new rules though if you haven’t been in a while. We now score up to ten based on the performance of the sex acts, the looks of the guy as well as how long it has taken to get back to the club. The highest scoring women will still win a luxury cruise holiday for two. You can be sure their husbands are waiting with anticipation. However, only the best fuck can win. It’s also a great opportunity for sexual experimentation; it’s such an exciting event.”

  “I’m a lousy hunter,” Amercia replied continuing to fake laugh down the telephone, although trying not to jump on the spot with excitement that this guy believed she’d been, “I’ve never won, nor been on a cruise holiday. I prefer the voyeurism part of the evenings though when I used to attend. The presence of them naked and fucking each other in front of me, knowing that they couldn’t see me was a great turn on. That feeling of being deceptively powerful, I love it.”

  “My name is Mr X, which I have to use an alias at this point. We can talk more in person if you wish. It’s easier to discuss Sordida face to face because you never know who might be listening down these phones. Modern technology is not to be trusted. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “When and where. Name a time and a place. I’ll be there. I don’t mind at all.”

  “I’ll meet you tonight about eight-ish. Head out to Helman House Hotel on the road to Elmton. It’s about five to six miles out of Plymouth city centre, can
you be there at that time?”

  “I’ll be there, I swear it, Mr X. Shall I meet you outside the entrance?”

  “No, I’ll text you a room number in a moment. If you don’t turn up, I’ll block your number and ask respectfully that you never contact me again. I don’t like timewasters.”

  “Fine, I’ll await your text, and I’ll be there tonight. I’m starting to understand your terms and conditions. I’ve assumed that I do not contact you by phone unless I’m asked to do so prior. I’ve also guessed you must be at work right now and can’t talk openly?”

  “Correct,” he replied, “Goodbye and I’ll look forward to meeting you later this evening.”

  The caller she only knew as Mr X, had ended the conversation. Amercia was almost at the bus stop to endure a journey home crammed on a bus with a considerable amount of old people at this hour of the day. All the pensioners in the locality made full use of their free old age pensioner bus passes to get out during the daytimes, except in hot days like today, you’d be sure to smell the putrid stench of piss drying up in their continence pads next to you. She often thought of mid-day buses to the supermarket as cattle trucks for the elderly. The bus unexpectedly arrived on time which was not often the case. Usually, Amercia would be standing around a good few minutes late thinking the only excuse the driver could have was an accident at the very least. Amercia stepped on the bus, paid the driver before proceeding to walk to the back while looking around to see all the rows of grey hair looking at her as she made her way to a seat. Sitting down comfortable without being able to smell the scent of urine in the air, Amercia grinned to herself, pleased with such an act on the telephone, yet inwardly annoyed at the expense that will be incurred later getting a taxi to Helman House Hotel.

  The vibrating function of her mobile phone quickly awoke her from the daydream of one day owning her own home after leaving the small bedsit into the reality of the bus journey home that was still ongoing from ten minutes of hell. The only appreciative part of the trip was that no one had sat next to her. Amercia took her phone from her pocket, glanced at the screen to read a text from Mr X that was showing just the numbers 232. Applying a logical concept that she was to meet him at room 232 at 8 pm this evening, she put the phone back in her pocket and took a sigh as she wondered what the next step was to guarantee entry into Sordida. She was not even sure what she could talk about, if she had to concoct more lies, then her only worry was stating something that would never have happened which could blow her cover. There was still plenty of unanswered questions because her concerns now were why did he want to meet her so soon, what was his intention and more importantly was she even safe?

  If she wanted to make extra money as an escort, Amercia understood that at times it would have to involve taking risks, but still new to the game with a thirst for finding some wealthy clients; she had no intention of backing out this evening.

  Having made it home after a fifteen-minute bus journey followed by a five-minute walk, Amercia opened the door to her bedsit. She could smell a musty damp smell caused by her wet towel hanging to dry over the bathroom door. The room desperately needed vacuuming as she could still see food crumbs piling up in corners by the sofa and bedside cabinet. A small collection of used diet cola cans littered the table. She sat down on the couch with a fresh cold can of diet cola ready to open her laptop because with just a few hours spare before having to get prepared for the hotel meet this evening; she wondered if any potential escorting work had reached her inbox online.

  The internet connection was still going strong and logging in only took a matter of seconds. There were a few messages from random guys asking about rates, dates and an interesting one from a gentleman who said he was seventy years old looking for a naked cleaner! Surely a joke, she wondered, would he even know how to use the internet? Amercia quickly responded to them all in a matter of minutes, although nothing was guaranteeing any prompt work for later this afternoon. Even as an escort with her pussy open for business she felt disheartened by the lack of response. She wasn’t ugly, very business minded with the ability to act different characteristics as and when required. Amercia in her mind felt she was a goldmine waiting to be discovered by a wealthy businessman who would need her for regular periods, overnight stays, travelling abroad; and to be his sex slave while gifted with cash galore. With not even a sniff of action this afternoon, she reverted to a more minimalist plan B to make use of the wasted time and walked to the bathroom.

  Having spent a few minutes brushing her long brunette wig before applying a choice of foundation and lipstick on her face, Amercia returned to the sofa. Her nerves were playing games within her stomach as she felt a heavy sinking feeling. It had been a few days since she was on display with her webcam, but she wanted to get used to being seen and performing actions for men on the internet. She had considered getting herself a private premium rate number so men would pay a few pounds per minute to call her. However, the set-up costs were too expensive for her at this current time; she had also thought about saving for this service until the extortionate electric bill landed on her doorstep.

  Amercia placed the wig upon her head, took a deep breath before loading up the adult webcam website she had joined when an online banner ad she spotted on the escort site tempted her away to sign up. It was not an easy way to earn money with her inbuilt laptop webcam, and she felt it was a more aggressive tactic of displaying and teasing to lure horny men into buying credits that they can offer her. It was a win-win situation for the adult site because not only did they profit from the credit sales, they additionally took a commission back from each cam performer. All the horny men who stored credits in their online accounts were free to give them away to who-ever they wished, but for the performer, it came at the cost of doing what the men wanted. Some performers were filthier than others, although eventually if you built your credits up to a reasonable limit, you could cash out and transfer the money to your bank account.

  Sex and the internet go hand in hand together for men, women and couples who want to explore more options in the privacy of their own homes and Amercia was still learning the ropes. She stripped off down to her sexy underwear exposing her legs, body and bra then switched on her webcam. Having spent a couple of minutes seductively rubbing her hands over her body with attention focussed on her breasts, she could see more and more usernames listed as watching her online. In the chat box option available to her she messaged her audience.

  What would you like me to do for 200 credits, she typed, starting off with a minimal amount, taking offers and awaiting your instruction. A user by the name of JizzyJay private messaged her and asked to go for a private show for 2000 credits, ten times the amount she wanted initially. Thrilled that this was the best offer she’d had, so she clicked his username, confirmed a private show request, accepted the credits and within a few moments, he was filtered to be her only watcher while all others had an away for remote show notification overlaying her webcam display.

  Amercia felt exposed, being alone in the bedsit on webcam just felt awkward because she was never able to see the other person on cam. JizzyJay was just a username in a chat box who paid a small amount of money to request whatever she wanted to accept. She knew he could hear her from the internal microphone and as he asked for her to remove her red silk underwear and sexy bra that created an illusion of a better cleavage, he wanted her to moan as if she was having an orgasm. Now at the point of gently rubbing her clitoris, her pussy began to widen slightly and tingle with each push of a finger. The moistness of her internal sensations lubricated her two fingers to help ease them in past her knuckles. The sparks of pleasure she felt with each pulsing movement turned her on for real as she began to fantasise that JizzyJay was a tall, muscular beast in the bedroom fucking and thrusting into her harder as she begged him to cum inside of her.

  JizzyJay was typing away in the chat box requesting her to move around in all different kinds of positions, but she pushed the laptop close
r to her impassioned vagina and positioned the camera down a little, so the only visible image on the screen was her juices gently seeping outside of her pink aroused pussy. Aware from the messages he had sent about himself wanking vigorously she hadn’t replied, it was a few minutes of escapism and another batch of credits to add to her account for later use. Needing another can of diet cola to cool her off, she closed the laptop lid to consider that a job perfectly executed for the afternoon. If she had the willpower and confidence to stay online longer she would have, however, it made her feel awkward and the earnings although extra was a pittance. She’d rather have a website of her own and skip the middleman, but everything cost so much to set up due to regulations on adult website hosting services.

  Amercia’s next plan of action today following a brief masturbation session, a shower, quickly tidying up and a cold can of diet cola as a reward for finally vacuuming was to concentrate on getting dressed up for the meeting of Mr X in a couple of hours. She had already pre-booked the taxi for seven o’clock allowing for it to be late she would still get to the Helman House Hotel estate in plenty of time. Concentrating on whether to look slutty, professional or miss average, Amercia selected three different outfits to match each of the looks she’d narrowed it down too. Combining both slutty with professional, she found a cheap metallic backless slit dress that had been gathering dust at the back of her wardrobe. With a bit of a wipe down to freshen it up, the dress looked way more expensive than it was, and she remembered all the compliments she got from the guys at the work Christmas party last year while the women gave her daggers with their eyes. Not that she wanted her colleague’s husbands in her pants, the attention is gratefully received.

 

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