by Jade West
“I don’t need a picture, dirty girl. I need you.” Months of tension bubbled over. “When can I see you? I need to see you, Gemma.”
“Not tonight...I’m still working.” I heard her padding across a hard floor, rustling some papers. “I have a flatmate, just checking her timetable.”
“You want me to come to you?”
Her answer was instant. “Yes. It’s what I always imagined...”
“And you really want to be blindfolded?”
“My name was a lie, but that was all. Everything else is real... they are all my fantasies...” I listened to her pacing. “This is so crazy...”
My mouth was dry as sandpaper. “It’s not crazy.”
“Please don’t be a bloody psycho,” she groaned. “That would seriously, seriously suck.”
“You know I’m not.”
She resumed the rustling. “...Bloody Tessa and her scrawly writing... how about, um... Thursday... or Tuesday... or... tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
My perfect Lucy, Gemma, laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound. “Ok, Mr Keen. She’s working from midday... how about 1pm?”
“I’ll be there. How long do I have?”
“Tess is working til late, but I have pole fitness at six.”
“I’ll be out by four... that should do us fine, this first time.”
“First time? You seem pretty sure we’ll be doing it again,” she teased.
“We’ll be doing it again.” I let my words hang in the air. “I meant what I said, Gemma, I want you on your knees waiting for me, blindfolded and ready.”
A hitch of her breath. “Yes.”
“Nothing crazy first time. Just you, and me.”
“I’ll be ready.” She paused, but I didn’t fill the silence. “What do you look like? I mean, I’ll never see you... I just wondered... just so I know... I know it’s silly, I just...”
“I’m just over six foot, athletic, dark hair... longish...”
“Big cock?” A nervous giggle.
“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed...”
Her laughter was contagious. “Tall, dark, athletic with a twelve inch cock... just like every other one of my callers.”
“Please tell me you’re joking? They don’t really come out with that twelve inch shit?”
“All the time. I’m practically a counselling service for guys too huge to get a girlfriend,” she giggled again. “So, in real life you’re a cuddly, blonde trucker?”
“With a tiny dick, yeah,” I laughed. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“You have sat nav?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll text you my postcode. It’s easier to drive here than get the tube, we’re right out on the edge of Blackfriars, in Bay Street, there are two flats above a sandwich shop, ours is the first, number ten. The shop has parking behind and it’ll be empty on a Sunday, you can come in the back way.”
“I like the back way,” I smirked.
I heard the trill of another phone. “Shit, I have to go, callers to jack off.”
The thought made me strangely jealous. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dirty girl.”
“More than I’ll see of you,” she said. “Goodnight, Jason.”
It would be now.
***
Gemma
Crazy, crazy, crazy. Not just crazy. Insane. Certifiable. Stark raving bloody mad.
Still I text him my postcode, still I wandered through my bedroom and browsed the contents of my wardrobe between calls, and still I brought myself off over and over again until I was a tired mess. Sleep didn’t find me easy, though — not even when the calls died down at four a.m.
Practicalities bashed around my head. Practicalities and nerves. What if he turned up with an axe and hacked me into tiny pieces in my own living room? What if he didn’t show up at all? What if he turned up, took one look at me and let himself out again?
Tessa took an age to get ready for work, sluggish from her double shift the day before. I followed her around, dithering on the edge of telling her I had a date. A blind date. A blind kinky date in our apartment. Just so she knew, just in case.
Finally, she called me out.
“What’s with the ants in your pants?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Is this about Chelsea? I definitely can’t go with her to that stupid club, I told her that already. If you aren’t up for it, she’ll just have to find some other mug to take along.”
“Haven’t even thought about it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then you’d better start thinking about it, she’ll be on your case soon enough. I’ll see you later.”
Shit. I hoped so.
I showered and shaved, and tried to straighten my hair — which didn’t do an awful lot to tame the curls. I painted my toes and my fingers, like he’d even probably notice, and tidied the flat until it was presentable. I bundled my clothes back into my wardrobe and cleared my bedside table, using it as a display of every sex toy in my possession. Vibrators and dildos and lubes and lotions, condoms, too. I decided against the handcuffs, stuffing them back in a drawer, along with a couple of floggers I’d bought but never yet used. Maybe another day.
With trembling fingers and a thudding heart I fired off a couple of texts, and he was right off the bat in his responses.
I practice safe sex. Condoms please.
Of course.
Please help yourself to drinks and all that.
Thank you.
I’m really going to be blindfolded, so please let me know it’s you when you arrive.
Stop worrying, dirty girl. One hour to go.
One hour to go.
I slipped into a babydoll and pair of matching white panties. The mirror told me it did little to hide my wobbly bits, maintaining the podge of my belly even when I was sucking it in. My chubby thighs too. At least my tits looked good, squeezed together in an impressive display of cleavage and held precariously with the cutest white ribbon.
I kept my make-up minimal, just a touch of mascara and a dab of lip gloss. Then I put the door on the latch and watched the clock tick down.
I was in position on the living room floor, kneeling with my knees spread wide and my eyes screwed shut under a sleep mask when the panic finally kicked in. In a mad burst of nerves I fired off a text to Tessa that I knew she wouldn’t see til much later.
Don’t go mad. I’ve got a blind date at the flat. He’s from chatline and his name is Jason. He’s from Surrey and his number is on my phone. I’ll text you when I’m done - if you haven’t had another message by the time you finish work please call the police as he’s probably a psycho killer. Hopefully not. xx
I put my phone on silent and hid it under the sofa.
Then I slipped the mask back on, spread my knees, and waited for my dirty bad stranger.
Like a good little dirty bad girl.
***
Jason
Steve’s old Land Rover was a noisy bastard compared to my Range. I put my foot down, chugging my way down country roads until the city loomed. Nobody gave me a second look in this thing, and even if they had, the cap and shades would’ve fooled all but the most beady-eyed photographer.
Sat nav barked out orders, taking me right onto Bay Street without any trouble. This wasn’t the best part of London, but it certainly wasn’t the worst. I passed by a row of small retail units before the sandwich shop came into view. Sat nav confirmed my destination. It was 12.55. The driveway beyond opened up into the promised car park, little more than a yard with space for a couple of vehicles. I pulled up, pleased to discover the arrow for ‘Flats 10 and 11’ in plain view. I contemplated the need to buzz the intercom, but a quick nudge of the door negated the need.
It was already open. 12.57.
The stairwell was basic but clean, leading me straight up to flat 10 on the first floor. I checked my watch again. 12.59.
I turned off my phone and shoved it in my pocket.
With a breath I turned the handle.
The softest voice called out, cracking with nerves.
“Jason?”
A small hallway opened into a decent-sized living room, and there, on the floor just as promised, was my Gemma.
And she was beautiful. Red hair. Freckles. Voluptuous. My cock twitched at the sight of her.
She shifted on her knees, hands unsteady as they maintained position behind her head.
“Jason?”
“Relax,” I said. “It’s me.”
I cast aside my cap and sunglasses, taking a moment to soak her in. Her little nightdress was straining at her chest, milky white tits spilling over creamy lace. She was bigger than she’d looked outside the club, but all the better for it. Her waist tapered in before blooming into full, wide hips and a cute podge of a belly, and her thighs were chunky and pale and absolutely fucking gorgeous, with a dusting of freckles right the way up to the tiny white scrap of her knickers.
“Shit...” she breathed. “I’m so nervous.”
“Don’t be.” I kicked off my shoes, stripping down to my jeans as I eyed her up.
Her blindfold was a snug fit, thick pink satin covered in black lace. She was true to her word, she really did want anonymous. I closed the distance between us, dropping to my knees behind her and she gasped. I took her hands from behind her head and lowered them to her sides. She shivered as my fingers grazed her shoulders, tracing gentle patterns down her arms as my lips tickled the shell of her ear. Her hair smelled of apples and vanilla, wild red curls dancing like fire around her shoulders. Slowly, she calmed, her hands reaching back for me, coming to rest on my thighs.
“That’s it, dirty girl,” I whispered, teasing down the straps of her nightdress. “You’re gorgeous, Gemma.”
She shivered again as I slipped my fingers inside the cups of her nightdress, soft flesh submitting to my hungry fingers. Her nipples were hard little bullets. She moaned as I gently squeezed them, pressing back against me, her head resting against my shoulder.
“Good girl.” I gripped harder, kneading her tits in my hands as she squirmed.
“Yes.”
She sucked in her breath as my hands travelled down her stomach, then shifted her thighs further apart, arching her back as I skimmed a finger over her panties. “Please...”
“All in good time...” My tongue traced her ear, teeth nipping ever so softly, and she was putty in my hands, writhing against my chest as my fingers teased her clammy thighs. “I’m going to fuck you, Gemma.”
“Yes...”
I hovered at the edge of her knickers until she was panting, her skin goose-pimpled to the touch. Then I moved, skirting around to the front of her and pulling her forward until her knees were touching mine. I pulled at the ribbon at her chest, freeing her tits for my pleasure. They were even more fucking gorgeous than I expected, pale brown nipples so pretty against freckled white skin. Her tits bounced against her ribs, low but perky, perfect toys for prying fingers.
Her hands reached out, sweeping over my shoulders and down the hard ridges of my chest, her mouth hanging open. She traced the edges of tattoos she’d never see... never know existed.
“Fuck, Jason, you’re really not so cuddly...”
“No.”
“I still think you’re blonde, though.” She reached up, dithering in mid-air until I took her hands in mine and guided her to my face. I kissed her fingertips before they landed, enjoying the smile that crept across her lips as she traced the outline of my jaw. She ran her thumb across my mouth to find I was smiling, too. “This is so weird.”
“Good weird?”
“Definitely.” She found the messy strands of my fringe, brushing them back from my face. “You weren’t lying about this, either. It’s long.”
“It’s overdue a cut. I’ll get it done for next time.”
She shook her head. “Don’t. I like it.”
I stared at the beautiful wild girl in front of me; the spiral of curls around her shoulders, her bouncy tits, her gentle smile. She was perfectly imperfect, unaltered by surgery or Photoshop or inch-thick make-up. Beautiful and raw and real. So real. I took her face in my hands, grazing her lips with mine until she opened her mouth for me. Months of pent-up lust spilled free, tongues tangling in a dance of pure fucking want. Her fingers shot to my belt, prising my jeans open. She groaned into my mouth as my cock sprang free, pressing against the soft, warm flesh of her belly.
“Not quite a twelve-incher...” I teased.
“I’ll certainly fucking feel it.”
“Yes, you will.”
I was lost in my dirty girl, lost in her hungry, wet mouth, and her gorgeous big tits, her needy little hands all over me. I guided her backwards, covering her body with mine as she wrapped me in milk-white limbs. Slowly, I made my way down, stopping to suck on perky nipples, loving the way she moaned for me. She felt so good, melting to my ridges like she was created to fit. I groaned as I reached my destination. She was so wet, pale satin clinging to her folds like a second skin. I coaxed the fabric to the side, breath ragged in my throat at the full sight of her. She was shaven, just the faintest ladder of red climbing up towards her belly. Her pussy was so much bigger than the women I’d been with before — her hungry slit decorated with big, ripe lips. I could bury my whole fucking face in her juicy pussy and suffocate there. What a way to go. I dipped my tongue, wriggling my way up until I found the bud of her clit. It was hidden deep in juicy folds, the pearl in her very, very wet oyster. She tasted fucking divine.
“Oh God...” Her hands fisted in my hair, and my dirty girl rubbed against my face as I sucked on her clit. “I have toys, Jason... in the bedroom... if you wanted to... um...”
“You want me to stretch you open, dirty girl? Is that what you want?” Her body answered for her, the folds of her cunt quivering against my mouth. I sat upright, pulling her with me.
“Door by the kitchen, on the right.” She held out her hands and I helped her to her feet, leading her through to her own bedroom. Her bed was plush, with purple sheets and a dozen scatter cushions. It suited her. I directed her to the edge, savouring the dance of her tits as she shimmied backwards to position herself in the centre.
“Hug your knees to your chest. I’m going to open up that gorgeous pussy.”
Her breathing quickened, titties jiggling as she raised her legs and held them high. I shifted her arse enough to sit at her side, grabbing a bottle of lube and a couple of condoms from the bedside cabinet. Then I positioned myself to play. I spread her lips wide and dribbled lube on her clit, hooking two fingers inside her. Her juicy cunt was surprisingly tight, clenching around me like a hot fucking snare. Fuck yes.
“Beautiful...” I groaned. “That’s it...”
She made such delicious squelches. My thumb circled her clit, and slowly she loosened for me. I lubed up my other hand, loving the way she groaned as I doubled up. I worked my way in and out, gently, ever so fucking gently, teasing and stretching that hole until she was taking four fingers easily.
“Shit, Jason, suck my clit again... Please suck my clit...”
Dirty girl. I didn’t need asking twice.
I was so much rougher with her clit between my lips, ploughing that hot fucking snatch as she bucked against my face. She dropped her legs as she approached orgasm, gripping me tight between her chunky thighs. It was bliss held there, face slick with her juices as she cried out, grabbing at the sheets as she came in my face. I slid on a condom as she caught her breath, taking her by surprise when I lifted her legs and slammed all the way inside her.
“Jesus!”
“Good girl.”
“Fuck me, Jason, please... hard...” she hissed. I pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, shifting position for deeper penetration. “Yes! Oh fuck, yes!”
My free hand grabbed at her jiggling tits, squeezing her nipples in my fingers. “Fuck, Gemma... you feel so fucking good.”
I closed my eyes, and she was so familiar, her moans
of excitement the same sweet noises I’d loved for months, but there was so much more. The slap, slap, slap of my skin against hers frazzled my senses.
“Can you take more for me, dirty girl? Tell me you want more...”
“I want more,” she rasped. “Everything you’ve fucking got...”
“Good girl,” I snaked my hand down to her pussy, and she hissed as I forced two fingers in alongside my cock. “That’s my dirty girl. I can’t wait to see two fucking cocks in your pussy, we’re going to tear you fucking open.”
“I want it!” she squealed. “I want you to give it to me, you and your dirty fucking friends, I want you to use me. Use my holes, Jason, use all my fucking holes!”
It had been a long fucking time since I’d been balls deep in hot, wet pussy. I came like a bastard, emptying my load and bellowing the fucking place down. She lost her shit underneath me, hissing and wailing and wriggling like the kinky little bitch she’d promised to be.
My blood pulsed in my ears as I collapsed onto her, and then my dirty girl giggled the gorgeous filthy giggle I knew so well.
***
Gemma
His weight felt so good on me. His skin hot and clammy against my chest, and so bloody hard, like he was cast from iron. He buried his face in my neck, and damp hair tickled me. I could feel the thump of his heart against mine. The scent of sex was so strong in the air, sex and citrus body wash.
Post orgasmic euphoria finally killed my nerves.
“Shit,” I laughed again. “That was crazy.”
I felt him smile against my skin. “You were worth the wait, and all the phone bills, and the late nights.”
“Please don’t be a psycho killer,” I groaned. “The sex is just too good.”
“I’m not a psycho killer. Just a dirty bad stranger. A very, very dirty bad stranger.”
A tingle in my stomach, and other places, and my hands were at him again, his mouth on mine. He kissed as possessively as he fucked, his tongue spearing mine with the concentration of an extreme sport. The thought made me shiver. All that concentration, all on me.
