This time she was after a bit of countryside rough, and she expected the best our neck of the woods had to offer.
New clients make me twitchy, but not twitchy like this. I showered and shaved and told myself to pull my shit together, told myself to stop being such a soft fucking idiot.
This gig was casual dress, nothing fancy. I pulled on some jeans and a nice enough t-shirt, put some gel in my hair and I was ready to roll. I smoked a cigarette before I got in the truck, having the strangest hope that the bastard wouldn't start.
It did start.
Of course it fucking did.
I did the rounds and picked up the guys, and the atmosphere was the same usual lairy banter we go through every fucking time. I kept quiet, chain smoked out of the window all the way, kept thinking about Janie Ryan and hoping her pretty little snatch would be enough to get me off.
She'd sent pictures and they were good ones. Janie Ryan was quite a fucking looker.
Her Brecon pad was little short of a mansion, a big stone barn conversion amongst the hills. I pulled up next to a sporty little BMW and we piled out, game on. The banter stopped and we were ready to roll, charged with testosterone and stiff fucking dicks.
Only my dick wasn't all that fucking stiff.
Fucking hell.
Janie was nicer in real life than she was in her pics. A tall natural blonde with legs up to her pits and a nice perky rack on her. She was dressed in nothing but a silk robe, her lounge set out with candles and this weird scented shit that hit me right in the temples.
It was like she thought she was getting a massage, not a fucking gangbang.
She set herself up in a lounge chair with no time for niceties, beckoned us over like we were fucking lapdogs.
The others didn't seem to give two shits, just went where she instructed, performing like sea lions with every fucking click of her fingers. She had Buck and Jimmy O double-teaming to eat out her pussy, Hugh giving her a fucking shoulder massage and Petey groping at her tits with his eyes like saucers. And there was me, still fucking hovering, still not feeling this shit – not feeling it at all.
Hugh shot me a look of confusion, beckoned me over to join him on the masseur shit, but I'm no pissing masseur. I watched her spread those swanky pins of hers, saw her tight little cunt well enough as Buck and Jimmy worked her up, and still it did nothing for me. Not one fucking thing.
She didn't come, stopping them just as they started getting somewhere.
"I want to orgasm through penetration," she snapped. "Now!" She looked around the guys, not even seeming to notice I wasn't playing along, and her eyes landed on Petey and the jut in his pants. "You!" she said. "Fuck me!"
The lad was straight fucking in there. He dropped his jeans in a flash, rolled a johnny on his prick with shaky fingers, and the lad was already half-gone. Buck looked at me in horror as Petey mounted the blonde under him, but there was nothing I could do. He was quick, desperate, his pasty ass bobbing as he humped her like a virgin at a strip club. Her expression was one of disgust, nothing better than a grimace as he hit well short of the mark.
She went to shove him away but it was too late, Petey was already grunting, already shooting his fucking load. The rest was like a car crash, unfolding in slow motion.
Janie's groan of revulsion was enough to shrivel every dick in a five mile radius, the look she gave Petey as he plopped his still-jizzing dick from her cunt could wilt fucking flowers. He was still out of breath, a goofy grin plastered on his face until he realised he'd fucked up bad. He backed away too quickly, a clumsy hand on his cock that managed to pull that pissing johnny straight off. It landed with a slimy plop on Janie's belly, splattering spunk all over her snatch. She leapt up and made a right hoo-hah out of it, acted like someone just pissed in her Pimm's.
"What the fuck?!" she bleated. "For fuck's sake! What the fuck is this?!"
"Jizz," I said, venturing forward for the first time in this whole sorry spectacle. "A standard by-product from a fucking gangbang last time I checked."
Petey looked mortified, poor sod. I slapped him on the shoulder, gestured he should get his bloody pants back on.
"This is … unacceptable!" she carried on. "What kind of cheap shit outfit is this?"
"Lad got carried away," I said. "Shit happens. We'll call it a night, sorry for the trouble."
"Oh, no!" she said. "We won't fucking call it a night! I haven't had a single fucking orgasm!" She stared at me, and I stared right back. "Trent, right?" she said.
"That's right."
She flashed a vicious smile. "Well, Mr Boss-man, you can be the one to rectify this fucking disaster." She wiped herself off and sat herself back down and splayed those fucking legs again, offered up her pretty pussy like a fucking raffle prize. "You," she said. "Now!"
The guys looked at me, all of them. Buck gave me a nod, told me to get right in there. Jimmy O was grinning, expecting me to whip it out and get the job done.
"Come on," she said. "Show me what I'm paying for!"
I felt the simmer of anger, that primitive urge to fuck that bitch so hard she learned some fucking manners, see how smart her mouth was when she was coming all over my fucking cock. I stepped up and pulled off my t-shirt, and she managed a smile.
"Nice," she said. "I do like my men with a bit of ink. Show me what else you've got."
Just a job, it was just a fucking job.
I dropped my jeans and was relieved as fuck to find my dick was getting with the agenda. I took a rubber from Buck and rolled it on, hitching Janie's perfect Barbie legs over my shoulders and lining up to hit the perfect spot. I closed my eyes, told myself this was nothing, just the same old shit, different day. That this meant fucking nothing. Nothing at all.
Told myself I could get the job done and get out of there.
But my body wouldn't fucking move.
"Come on," she said. "Fuck me! I'm fucking ready for it!"
But I wasn't.
I looked at Janie Ryan's pretty face and all I saw was a big fucking mistake.
My dick backtracked and bailed on me, and my jeans were up before I'd even pulled the rubber off. I fished it out and stomped off to find a bin.
Janie really was pissed off then. Her face turned beetroot, her squeals of annoyance betraying her for the spoiled little brat she really was.
I didn't even look at the guys, just dumped my johnny in the trash where it belonged and picked up my t-shirt.
"Sorry for the inconvenience," I said. "But we're not anyone's fucking sissy-boys. I think it's best you find yourself another outfit." I pulled some notes from my back pocket, left them on the side for her trouble. I gestured to the guys, told them we were done, and they made a sharp fucking exit as I listened to Janie rattle on about our piss-poor service.
I don't think she'll be booking in her BMW anytime soon, that's for fucking sure.
Nobody said a word as I climbed back into the truck. Hugh put an arm around Petey's shoulders in the back, ruffled the lad's hair. Poor kid looked like he was going to cry, can't say I blamed him. Buck knows me well enough to know when to mind his tongue, he gave me a nod as we pulled away from her gates and that was the end of it.
I stopped at the yard on the way back through the village, opened up the office and unlocked the safe. I dished out the earnings – just as they should have been, but by the time I'd locked back up there were a pile of notes on the dashboard.
"Don't be soft," I said. "This was my call, just take the cash and stop being so fucking sappy about it."
But none of them would take a thing.
Hugh was in early next morning. He got us both a cup of tea and hovered in the office while I organised the job cards.
"You know what the lad needs," he said. "Either that or he's off the squad. He's too inexperienced, doesn't know what the hell he's doing. You know it as well as I do." He took a swig of tea. "Take him to her. She's the one to sort him out, we all know that. Especially you."
I'd been avoiding her for weeks, months probably.
"No," I said. "It's a barrel of shit, Hugh. I'm out of that."
"Then you'll have to drop him from the side. He's not up to it. Lad was practically a virgin when he started, he's got no idea."
"He'll pick it up," I said, but I was lying. Lad wasn't picking up shit.