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Dirty Bad Strangers(12)

By:Jade West


“Yes,” she rasped.

“And you want that?”

“I shouldn’t...”

“When you play with your filthy little snatch at night, is it me you think of? Am I this dirty fucking stranger?”

She moaned, a perfect sound. “Always, Jason... you’re always the dirty fucking stranger...”

My voice came out as a growl. “Give me your number.”

“I can’t,” she said. “It’s against the rules.”

“Come on, Lucy... let’s stop playing around.”

I could almost hear the cogs turning, fear creeping in. “Shhh, Jason, I’ll lose my job. For real.”

“So, tell me some of it, give me something, work in code, riddle, rhyme, I don’t fucking care, just give me something.” I was working my cock too fast, too frantic, threatening to shoot my load all over the sheets.

“I can’t...” she hissed. “Jason, I can’t...”

“Do it, Lucy, just one fucking clue...”

She was worked up, less careful with the volume of her voice. I could hear the rustle of her bedcovers under her body, the jagged race of breath. “Fuck... I want you to fuck me...”

“Come on, dirty girl, give me something...”

She tipped over the edge, and her jarred little groans sent me over too. I could only just make out the words as she said them.

“Zero, seven, nine...”

“Good girl, that’s my good sweet dirty fucking girl, Lucy. You’ve made me so fucking proud.” I caught my breath, reaching for a notepad from my bedside drawer. I scribbled the three digits.

Her voice was nervous when she spoke again. “If I get caught...”

“Shh,” I said. “Don’t mention it again. I’ll be listening out. Feed them to me whenever you can.”

I waited, heart pounding and aching for the affirmative. Christ, I was losing my fucking mind, snared in a crazy web of fantasy with a girl I didn’t even know.

“Ok.”

I breathed a happy sigh. “I’m not a psycho, Lucy.”

“Hope not,” she said. “Although I hope you can put on a good act.”

I wouldn’t disappoint.









Chapter Four




Jason



I have few friends I really speak with, man to man. Steve Dean is one of them. I’d known Stevie since high school, way before drink or pussy or mortgages. It’d all been about football back then, although Steve hadn’t made the grade. He was a carpenter now, based on a big farm on the outskirts of Cobham, a ten minute drive from Kensington Rangers’ training ground, where I spent the majority of my working week. Steve had done well for himself bar a nasty divorce the year previous, another reason I was loathe to sign my life away. Poor fucker was still picking up the pieces of financial warfare.

I found him in one of his workshop barns with ear defenders on, none the wiser of the text announcing my impending visit.

“Jay, always nice to see you, stranger.” He slapped my elbow. “What you doing up these parts?”

“Thought the Range could do with a country run.”

“Liar,” he grinned. “What’s the problem? April bitch nipping at your pissing ankles again? I saw the pictures of that stuffy ball last night, very dapper.” He tousled my shower-damp hair. “This has fucking grown some. What you aiming for? Shampoo sponsorship, pretty boy?”

“Hardly.”

“Get your fucking agent onto it, make him earn his slice.”

I cut the crap. “I need to talk.”

Steve perched himself on a workbench and I took the one opposite. “Shit, man, sure.”

“Things are fucked up.”

“Aren’t they always? This about April or something else?”

“Something else.”

“Does this something else have a pussy?”

I smiled. “Sure fucking hope so. Her name’s Lucy. I think.”

“You think?” he raised a brow. “Jesus, man. You got some chick knocked up or some shit?”

I braced myself for ridicule, preparing to say the words out loud. “Fuck no. I’ve never even seen her. She’s a chatline girl.”

Steve laughed, an easy, good-natured one. “She’s probably a moose, you do know that, right? The fit ones do webcam, more money in it.”

“This girl’s different. She’s my kind of dirty. She’s bad. I don’t think I’d even fucking care if she’s a moose, I’d fuck her anyway.”

I don’t know who was more surprised, Steve or me, but at least I had his attention.

He switched his sander off at the mains.

“I think you’d better take this from the top…”







Jason