Dirty Bad Strangers

by Jade West

  “Do I have to?”

  “I dunno.”

  A mischievous flare danced up my spine, and I pulled the blindfold off with a smile. “Decision made.”

  Steve was short and stocky, but not unattractive. He had a messy mop of dark blonde hair, and a strong, square jaw. His blue eyes were friendly, kind.

  “Hope Jason doesn’t freak.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t see why he would.”

  “Guess not.” He smiled. “I’m Steve, I mean, hello.”

  “Hi Steve.” I looked around the room I’d spent the night in. It was nice and airy, tastefully decorated in cream and beige. A woman’s touch, most certainly. “I could help you tidy up?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, no bother.”

  “I live in Blackfriars, do you know it?”

  “You can direct me.”

  “Guess I can.”

  I followed him through the house, casting my eyes all about the place. It was a farmhouse, much larger than I’d expected. A bit rough around the edges but nice all the same. Steve led me through the hallway to the front door, but I stopped as I passed by the living room.

  “Is this the room we were in, when I came over?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  I stepped inside. “Weird to actually see it, you know?”

  I took in everything, smiling at the sight of the beige carpet, recalling how it felt against my ass. The far wall was covered in football memorabilia, signed pictures and scarves and postcards. I stepped forward so see a picture of Steve smiling amongst a celebrating team.

  “Wow, quite a fan.”

  “Singers,” he said.

  “This is some collection.”

  “Aye.”

  The rest of the room was plain enough, just a couple of floral prints amongst the football craziness. A signed shirt hung above the fireplace, a signed football in an old armchair. I could only imagine the female touch was long gone.

  “Do you go to the games?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “And Jason? Is he a Singers fan, too?”

  He stared at me like it was a trick question. “...Yeah.”

  “Does he go with you?”

  “...He goes quite a bit.”

  “Sorry,” I smiled. “I’m being nosy. Let’s make a move.”

  I startled as I hauled myself up into Steve’s old Land Rover. The cut of the seat was familiar. I ran my fingers along the window frame, the same little dents and grooves. “Is this your car?”

  “Aye,” he said. The same rumble of the engine as he turned the key.

  “But this is...”

  “Jase uses it sometimes.”

  We chugged down the muddy track, well and truly in the middle of nowhere. “What car did Jason drive off in?”

  “His own car.”

  “Does he work far away?”

  “Few miles,” he said, shooting me a nervous glance. “Over by Cobham.”

  “Does he stay here often?”

  He shook his head. “Only last night.”

  “Does he live close by?”

  “Close enough.”

  “Have you met his wife?”

  Poor Steve nearly veered off the road. He recovered quickly, but his face was flushed. I fought the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

  “Yeah, I’ve met her, unfortunately.”

  “You’ve known him a long time, haven’t you?”

  “All my life, nearly.”

  “Have you done this before? Threesomes, I mean?”

  I could tell he really didn’t want to answer the question. “Not for a long time.”

  I could almost hear his sigh of relief as we pulled onto my street. I directed him to pull up outside, knowing the yard would be rammed. He held a hand up in farewell and didn’t loiter.

  It pained to find my curiosity hadn’t been eased in the slightest. Quite the opposite.

  I only wanted to know more about my dirty bad Jason than ever.

  ***

  Jason

  I knuckled down hard at training, giving it everything I had and then some. I made a little pact with myself on the pitch that morning. One extra year’s contract and I’d walk away. Fifty-fifty or no. I could spend smart, sound investments this time, set myself up somewhere pretty good. Maybe not the sprawling twelve bedroom Surrey estate we’d ploughed our money into, but something decent. Something without April in it.

  And Gemma? Her image flashed behind my eyes.

  Fuck knows.

  Powell came charging up the pitch towards me, head down and all out to score. I still felt the pang of jealousy, all too aware of his cock pressing into my dirty girl’s ass on the Kings’ dance floor. Come at me, asshole.

  I took him out, a sweet fucking tackle that stole the ball before he had chance to break for goal. I’d taken another five from him already and his frustration was showing. I smirked as he cursed his footwork.

  “Better fucking luck next time.”

  He shrugged. “What’s your beef, man?”

  “Playing the game, Powell, just playing the fucking game.”

  Final whistle. My side was up 3-0. Win.

  Trevor slapped my back as I headed to the changing rooms.

  “Looking good, Redfern, on fucking fire.”

  “Feeling good, Trev, right on my game.”

  “Keep this up, lad, and I won’t be able to let you hang your boots up end of season. April will have to wave goodbye to all those foreign holidays.”

  “I’m sure she’d survive.”

  “We might well see, Jase. Keep it fucking sharp, lad.”

  I could still smell my dirty girl on my fingers as I took a shower. The beautiful scent of her clinging to my skin. I wondered where she was, what she was doing. A text answered my questions.

  Gemma: At home with Chelsea. Can’t stop thinking about you. Please arrange our grand finale soon, Jason. I don’t know how much longer I can keep the blindfold on. xx

  Shit.

  It was time to text Vince.

  ***

  Gemma

  I practically knocked Cara off her pretty little feet.

  “Saturday night!” I squealed. “The big night.”

  “Whoa!” She grinned. “For real?”

  I nodded. “I’m so nervous.”

  “Nerves are good,” she said. “Enjoy it.”

  I twirled around the pole over and over, jumping into position to begin our routine run-through. Our dance was taking shape, really good shape, and so was I. My calves were gaining tone, my arms too. I hoisted myself up, gripping the pole tight between my thighs.

  “Looking good, Figi. Real good.”

  “Couple of weeks to go,” I said. “I’m looking forward to being up on that stage. Another fantasy ticked off the list.”

  “You’ll have to come up with some more,” she smiled.

  I doubted I’d have any problems on that front.

  ***

  Jason

  I checked out the barn preparations to find Steve had done a great job. He’d installed spotlighting, heaters too. A huge fucking mattress on the floor, and chains hanging down from the beams overhead. My cock was hard just looking at the place.

  “Will it do?” he asked.

  “Perfect, mate. You’ve done me proud.”

  “She really up for this? Four of us at once?”

  I smiled. “Wait and see.”

  “What happens after? You going to see her again?”

  A horrible niggle at the back of my mind. “No idea.”

  “It would be a fucking shame if you didn’t.”

  Yes. Yes it would.

  ***

  Gemma

  I crammed in chatline all day Saturday, struggling to keep myself occupied through the nerves. Chelsea was still holed up at ours, resident in our living room with enough clothes and beauty products to last any normal human being twelve months straight. The media was still after her blood, and she was withering for it. How I’d hat
e to be so vulnerable to the whims of the masses. Hate to be on their radar at all, in fact.

  I showered and shaved and scrubbed and douched, claiming I had an hour down between shifts, then retreated to my bedroom with a sneaky bottle of wine for the final preparations.

  I’d chosen a white slip. Sheer white. White that showed the dark buds of my nipples through the fabric and offered almost no resistance to prying fingers. I covered up with a pair of leggings and a thick black jumper. A fool-proof disguise. Then I had a large glass of wine for my trouble.

  I tamed my hair and did my make-up, hands jittery and awkward. A second glass did wonders for my nerves, but nothing much for my co-ordination. I stared at myself in the mirror for a long while before giving myself the thumbs-up. I’d do. Just about.

  “I’m off out,” I announced.

  Chelsea’s eyebrows shot up. “Where are you going?”

  “Dirty Angels,” I lied. “Practice.”

  “At ten p.m.?”

  “Late session.”

  “Can I come?” she asked. “I’ll be quiet.”

  “Maybe next time, hey? It’s a bit of an impromptu session, this one. Just me and Cara.”

  “Cara, Cara, Cara,” she scoffed. “Perfect bloody Cara. Is she dragging you to that sex club or something? She is, isn’t she?” She groaned into a cushion. “Fine. See you tomorrow.”

  My knees were knocking by the time the car pulled up. Jason’s grip was steady, guiding me into my seat without comment on my jitters.

  “Not long now, dirty girl,” he said. “Your big night.”

  “Just like my fantasy, right? Rough and dirty?”

  “Just like your fantasy, Gemma.”

  I was bloody glad I’d opted for wine. The glow of the alcohol sat pleasantly in my stomach, taking the edge off the panic. It didn’t stop the shakes as we pulled into Steve’s drive, but it definitely helped make them bearable. This time Jason drove further along, turning up to the right and parking on what felt like soft ground. He helped me down, and the faintest breeze cooled my cheeks. I could feel grass under my heels. The grass continued until we stepped up onto concrete, and the smell of hay hit me.

  “A barn?”

  “Not your usual barn.”

  He positioned me where he wanted me, backed up against what felt like a huge mattress. He pushed me to sit down and pulled my jumper off over my head.

  “Nice,” he growled as he saw my flimsy slip. He pulled my leggings down, taking a moment to trace patterns up my thighs. “You sure you want this?”

  I nodded. “I’ve always wanted this.”

  He spread my knees wide, testing my pussy with his fingers. “So it seems. Up on the mattress and on your knees, Gemma. Give me your wrists.”

  I kneed up onto the mattress. “Are they here?”

  “What?”

  “The others. Are they here?”

  “They’re outside.”

  Oh God.

  “I told them to wait. I wanted to get you ready, get you comfortable, and make sure you still wanted it. Nervous?”

  “A little.”

  “Don’t be. You can call a halt at any time. Right?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “You still want it?”

  I breathed out a long calming breath. “Yes. Definitely.”

  “Good. Now give me your wrists.”

  I did as he asked, gulping hard as he stretched my arms high above my head. Shackles. I pulled on them and they easily took my weight. I was trapped firm.

  I yelped as Jason flicked at my nipples through my slip.

  “My exposed little Gemma all ready to be used like the dirty little girl she is.” His mouth at my ear. “How does it feel, dirty girl?”

  “Crazy,” I breathed, “fucking crazy.”

  “Crazy? I want you to feel good, dirty girl, not crazy.”

  I gasped as he gently lifted my breasts, taut nipples scraping against the fabric of my slip. Holy shit the tingles. His lips pressed to mine, soft and warm. That scent – citrus-musk – so fucking horny.

  His lips left mine. He let go of my breasts and gently tweaked my nipples.

  “Now tell me you feel good, dirty girl. Tell me want to be devoured by strangers.”

  “Good, I feel good, so good,” I rasped. “I want it. Oh God, Jason, I want those strangers so bad.”

  “You should to see all the toys I’ve laid out for you, dirty girl. Big, fat dildos, chubby fucking butt plugs... but none so fucking brutal as the cocks you’re going to take for me.”

  Jesus! I felt the heat between my legs and a trickle of my juices on my thigh. This was insane. Fucking insane. We’d gone through all the guidelines, over and over again. Nothing left to say. This was it. The mattress dipped in front of me and I groaned as his thumb balled my clit.

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  “I’m going to be watching you getting fucked, Gemma. Make me proud, dirty girl.”

  My face was on fire. “I’ll make you so proud, Jason, I promise.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  On my knees in shackles in a barn in the middle of nowhere. My breath was ragged, loud in my ears. Heart pounding in my chest. I struggled to keep my calm as a cool draught tickled my legs and footsteps approached; the heavy thud of boots. Multiple pairs. A deep laugh.

  “Well, well, well,” a gruff voice said. “Here’s our little slut all trussed up pretty, and man, look at that hair.”

  “Gorgeous,” someone else said.

  I turned to the sound, even though I couldn’t see a thing.

  Another voice. “She looks like she fucking wants it, doesn’t she? Look at that sopping fucking snatch.”

  “Dirty bitch. You cooked us up a treat, Jase. A real fucking treat.”

  “She looks ready for it. Gagging for it. So fucking dirty.”

  “We’re gonna tear your fucking pussy open and make you scream, you dirty little slut.”

  “Ride your sweet chubby ass until you groan like a whore.”

  “Beautiful tits, too.”

  “She wants it, she fucking wants it, filthy bitch.”

  I jumped as the first hand landed. It gripped at my ass, fingers digging right in. “Nice.”

  Hands on my face, a hot mouth clamped over mine, sloppy tongue pushing its way in. It felt seedy, unpleasant. Horny.

  “Open your mouth and kiss me like you fucking want it.” A hand yanked my hair, held me tight until I opened up. I thought back over all the times I’d brought myself off to this fantasy, all the times I’d dreamed of dirty bad strangers making me their plaything. This was it. My real chance. I groaned, sucking his tongue into my mouth like the dirty little slut Jason wanted me to be. I wondered where he was, imagined him sitting on a hay bale with his cock in his hand. The stranger was so slobbery, so wet, tasting of stale cider and fuck knows what else. A wiry beard scratched my chin, but I didn’t care. I let him gobble on my mouth, opening up for more even when my face was slick with his spit. Wet fingers between my thighs, poking at my clit, and a mouth, on my right nipple, sucking hard through the material.

  I didn’t even attempt to discern who was who. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Outside of my blindfold my pirates were groping me.

  I heard the fabric of my slip tear, then rough hands bounced my tits up and down as the others jeered their approval. They pulled on my nipples, jiggling my tits all over the place. It felt fucking wonderful.

  The mattress dipped under my knees as someone got to their feet. A thick meaty dick slapped my cheek.

  “Open your throat,” he grunted. “All the fucking way, baby. Swallow me up.”

  He jammed it in and I retched, spluttering around his cock as someone wriggled a thumb in my asshole. The mattress creaked as another man took to his feet, another meaty dick stretching my mouth. Someone pinched my nose, grunting their excitement as I tried to pull away.

  “No fucking way, darling. Gobble us up, that’s fucking right. Take it.”

  Fingers in my
pussy, at least three. They weren’t hitting the spot, not even close, and I felt all the dirtier for it. The mattress dipped again, my knees parted, legs touching against mine. I heard the tear of a wrapper and a sigh before a cock jammed its way inside me. I groaned against the dicks stretching my mouth, eyes watering under the blindfold.

  “Oh yes, you dirty little cock whore. Choke it up.”

  I did choke. I choked and gagged and soaked my tits with my own spit.

  “Dirty stranger dick in your cunt, baby. How does it feel?”

  If it wasn’t for the meat in my mouth I would have told him it was a dream. A wonderful dream come true.

  “Gonna fuck you up, bitch. Fuck your dirty little holes up real good.”

  Fuck yeah! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!

  I thought of Jason again, watching as I gagged on cock, my ass slapping against another man’s belly. It sent me to the dirty place, spiralling into the high of no return. Rock hard dicks slapped my lips, heavy thuds, and this time I was opening wide for them, tongue lolling in invitation.

  “Good little slut, that’s right. Give us that sweet fucking mouth.”

  Take it! Fucking take it!

  Hands palmed my tits, tugging at my nipples, and I strained in my bonds, offering myself up to their touch every single time. I wanted more. More!

  “Please...” I groaned. “Make it rough...”

  They slapped my tits, slapped my belly, my ass, my thighs, heavy palms on soft, glowing flesh. The beautiful burn as my tits and ass tingled in glorious pleasure. Two hot mouths on my nipples, sucking, nibbling, biting, and I fucking loved that. Groaning for harder and more and anything else that rolled off my filthy tongue. They slurped and they bit and they slapped and they nipped and I took it all, spreading my legs wider for the cock inside me. I wanted more. I wanted everything, stretched to bursting with dirty, sweaty man meat.

  Fingers at my bonds, setting me free. I collapsed into solid arms, limp and wanting as they forced me where they wanted me. I squealed as the dick in my pussy moved to my ass, but the pain was over quickly, leaving just the gorgeous fucking ache as he slammed his way inside. They pushed me backwards, arms around my waist until my head rested firm against the stranger underneath me. I knew what was coming, and I was smiling. Deliriously fucking wanton. Holy shit!