strokes to tease me open, before slamming me good and proper. Fast, then slow, over and over, until I was swearing and groaning, and falling apart underneath him. He fucked me with big purple, and fucked me in tandem, encouraging me to strum my horny little clit until I came like a wild animal, grabbing at the sheets and squealing his name.
He pulled out slowly, taking big purple with him in a truly glorious squelch, and my insides quivered and throbbed. Sweet Jesus!
“A perfect view,” he said. “Gaping wide and raw and so fucking pretty.”
I was fucked, well and truly. I rolled onto my back, reaching out for him. I found his cock still hard, and pulled off the condom, tossing it aside and coaxing him up the bed to me. My mouth was already open. He tasted of rubber, and pussy.
“My turn,” he breathed. “That’s right... so fucking right.”
I slurped on his cock as best I could from my position, and he seemed to enjoy it well enough. He slapped his meat against my lips, jerking himself off against my chin. I opened wide for him, all ready for his dirty gift.
“Now...” he hissed. “Yes!”
His cum was salty, and thick, really fucking thick. It dribbled to the back of my throat, and I swallowed the whole lot down with a grateful smack of my lips.
It didn’t put him off kissing my salty mouth, tangling his tongue with mine in a horny-as-hell parting gesture.
My body was sad when he removed himself from my touch. I listened to him pull his jeans back on.
“Time’s up,” he said.
I sighed. “I’m not sure pole fitness is on the cards tonight.”
“You’ll be fine, dirty girl. You’re going to feel me when you’re rubbing against that pole, I like that.”
“I’ll be feeling you for a while,” I giggled. “A long while.”
He pressed his lips to my forehead, surprising me. “I’ll let myself out. Give me five minutes before you take the blindfold off.”
I listened to him in the living room, heart pounding until I heard the door slam closed behind him.
I relaxed, smiling to the empty room as I counted down the minutes.
And then I took my blindfold off.
***
Chapter Nine
Jason
I was grinning like a lunatic as I drove out of Blackfriars, searching through Steve’s crappy old tapes until I found a driving anthems soundtrack. I turned it up high as I chugged through the countryside.
She was everything I hoped for, and more. So much more.
Her ripe thighs, the soft white swell of her tits. Fuck. She was gorgeous. Gorgeous and dirty and horny as hell.
My phone vibrated in my pocket for the umpteenth time. I checked the mirrors before I pulled it out, making sure I kept my eyes on the road. My hands-free setting pinged on, reading my messages in a robotic voice that was only just audible over the music.
Message from April. 1.30 p.m. Where are you?
Message from April. 1.45 p.m. Call me, asshole. I want you to come to Oakleys with me. Press are out.
Message from April. 2.30 p.m. Screw you. I’ve gone alone. Dickhead.
Message from Steve. 4.05 p.m. Well? Was she a goer?
I turned down the stereo.
“Text message to Steve. Best lay I’ve ever fucking had. Send.”
I wasn’t fucking lying.
***
Gemma
What a bloody raucous.
It sounded like a crowd of people at my front door. Angry mobsters hammering the place down.
I pulled my robe tight around me, flinching as I made my way through to the hall. Pole fitness would be interesting.
“THE POLICE ARE ALREADY ON THEIR WAY! OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR, RIGHT NOW!”
Shit! I knew the voice. It was emblazoned on my brain through years of screeching conversation.
“Chelsea?” I freed the catch. She was brandishing her handbag high above her head, teeth gritted and eyes wild. It took everything I had not to laugh, she was as threatening as a bloody hamster. She stormed past me in a typhoon of hair extensions, eyes darting about the place.
“Where is he?!”
I stared blankly. “Where’s who?”
“ Jason,
He pulled out slowly, taking big purple with him in a truly glorious squelch, and my insides quivered and throbbed. Sweet Jesus!
“A perfect view,” he said. “Gaping wide and raw and so fucking pretty.”
I was fucked, well and truly. I rolled onto my back, reaching out for him. I found his cock still hard, and pulled off the condom, tossing it aside and coaxing him up the bed to me. My mouth was already open. He tasted of rubber, and pussy.
“My turn,” he breathed. “That’s right... so fucking right.”
I slurped on his cock as best I could from my position, and he seemed to enjoy it well enough. He slapped his meat against my lips, jerking himself off against my chin. I opened wide for him, all ready for his dirty gift.
“Now...” he hissed. “Yes!”
His cum was salty, and thick, really fucking thick. It dribbled to the back of my throat, and I swallowed the whole lot down with a grateful smack of my lips.
It didn’t put him off kissing my salty mouth, tangling his tongue with mine in a horny-as-hell parting gesture.
My body was sad when he removed himself from my touch. I listened to him pull his jeans back on.
“Time’s up,” he said.
I sighed. “I’m not sure pole fitness is on the cards tonight.”
“You’ll be fine, dirty girl. You’re going to feel me when you’re rubbing against that pole, I like that.”
“I’ll be feeling you for a while,” I giggled. “A long while.”
He pressed his lips to my forehead, surprising me. “I’ll let myself out. Give me five minutes before you take the blindfold off.”
I listened to him in the living room, heart pounding until I heard the door slam closed behind him.
I relaxed, smiling to the empty room as I counted down the minutes.
And then I took my blindfold off.
***
Chapter Nine
Jason
I was grinning like a lunatic as I drove out of Blackfriars, searching through Steve’s crappy old tapes until I found a driving anthems soundtrack. I turned it up high as I chugged through the countryside.
She was everything I hoped for, and more. So much more.
Her ripe thighs, the soft white swell of her tits. Fuck. She was gorgeous. Gorgeous and dirty and horny as hell.
My phone vibrated in my pocket for the umpteenth time. I checked the mirrors before I pulled it out, making sure I kept my eyes on the road. My hands-free setting pinged on, reading my messages in a robotic voice that was only just audible over the music.
Message from April. 1.30 p.m. Where are you?
Message from April. 1.45 p.m. Call me, asshole. I want you to come to Oakleys with me. Press are out.
Message from April. 2.30 p.m. Screw you. I’ve gone alone. Dickhead.
Message from Steve. 4.05 p.m. Well? Was she a goer?
I turned down the stereo.
“Text message to Steve. Best lay I’ve ever fucking had. Send.”
I wasn’t fucking lying.
***
Gemma
What a bloody raucous.
It sounded like a crowd of people at my front door. Angry mobsters hammering the place down.
I pulled my robe tight around me, flinching as I made my way through to the hall. Pole fitness would be interesting.
“THE POLICE ARE ALREADY ON THEIR WAY! OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR, RIGHT NOW!”
Shit! I knew the voice. It was emblazoned on my brain through years of screeching conversation.
“Chelsea?” I freed the catch. She was brandishing her handbag high above her head, teeth gritted and eyes wild. It took everything I had not to laugh, she was as threatening as a bloody hamster. She stormed past me in a typhoon of hair extensions, eyes darting about the place.
“Where is he?!”
I stared blankly. “Where’s who?”
“ Jason,
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