Dirty Bad Wrong (24 page)

“I’m
happy,
Steph. Just leave me the fuck alone, will you? I don’t want Stuart, I’m not coming back to yours, I don’t want your cutesy little life of peaches and cream and evening quiz shows. I want to be
here
.”

“You don’t mean that,” she screeched. “You don’t know what you’re saying!”

“FUCK OFF!” I yelled. “Can I make it any more clear to you?”

She slammed her mouth shut, eyes like cinders. “Fine, Lydia, I’ll leave, but this won’t be the end of it, not by a fucking long shot. You’re my friend, and friends don’t abandon each other, friends are always there!”

I marched her to the door. “I appreciate it, Steph, honest I do. We’ll clear this up another day, OK? I’ll call you.”

I slammed the door before she could object, praying she was well clear before James arrived.

***

James watched me across the table. He’d picked well, Italian cuisine over candlelight. His eyes looked darker than ever, sucking in all the light in the room.

“So here we are, Lydia, you and I out for dinner.”

I raised my glass. “So we are.”

“Talk to me, Cat’s eyes. Regale me with conversation, that’s what
couples
do over dinner, isn’t it? They talk.”

“What do you want to know?” I smiled.

“Besides from how your sweet your piss tastes?” he breathed, so low I could only just hear him.

“Besides from that, yes.”

“Tell me about little Lydia Marsh. What’s new, pussycat?”

I took a breath. “Well, my mum’s met someone,” I said. “He seems ok this time.”

“Really?” he smiled. “Not another loser out for money and free rent, then?”

“Doesn’t seem to be, not from the bit I’ve heard. He’s got a job. A
good
job. A warehouse manager apparently. Divorced, two adult children, likes hiking and snooker and foreign travel.”

“Ideal step-daddy material.”

“Steady on,” I grinned. “And get this, he’s teetotal. Doesn’t drink a drop.”

“Well, that is good news, surely?”

“I can hope. She seems really happy. He doesn’t want to move in yet or anything, happy in his own place. They met at bingo, when Auntie Syl dragged Mum a few weeks back. He was there with a neighbour, keeping her company. It went from there.”

James raised his glass, leaning forward across the table until it clinked into mine. “Well, that does sound promising. Here’s to Mr Bingo, and all the happiness love can bring.”

“To Mr Bingo,” I smiled. “And to
us
, James, to our beautiful, screwed-up
thing.
”

“I note you didn’t use the word relationship.”

“Would you want me to?” I asked, eyes hard on his.

“I’ll let you know when I know.” He winked at me, and it set my stomach into a dither. “Sensible James is ironing a few things out, give him a chance to get his bearings.”

“He can take his time.” I reached across the table for his hand, and he didn’t pull away. “
Thing
will do just fine for the moment.”

“To our
thing
, Lydia,” he toasted afresh.

“To our
thing,
James.”

Except it wasn’t just a thing to me. Not at all.

***

In the shadowy alleyway across from Explicit, James Clarke transformed to Masque. He’d slicked back his hair before we’d left the restaurant, transformation phase one complete, now it was just the mask. I smiled as he fixed it on, heart fluttering at the promise of what lay ahead. Unlike usual, Masque wasn’t dressed in low-slung jeans. Masque was dressed to perfection in a fitted black suit, hugging his frame in all the right places. He took my hand unprompted as we crossed the road.

“I’ve never arrived here with anyone, Cat, not since Rachel.”

I smiled up at him. “Well, then I’m honoured, Masque.”

“Your half of the bargain now,” he whispered as we made our way up to the main floor.

“You really want me to do this?” I shot him an expression full of squick, and he smiled at me.

“It will surprise you, Cat, I promise. You’ll enjoy it.”

The lights on stage started up as we sipped our drinks, but this time Masque didn’t move us. I watched the shadows play out, a woman’s scream cutting loud across the music. I leant into the man at my side, breathing in the hot musk of his neck. “One day I want you to take me up there,” I said. “Like you did, Violet.”

“You want me to gape your cunt in front of an audience? You really are coming along, Cat, I’m impressed.”

“I want you to cane me up there,” I said. “I’m not sure about the gape thing.”

“Last week didn’t put you off all that much, then?” he grinned. “I am glad. The cane’s a favourite of mine.”

“You took your mask off for me,” I whispered. “I won’t forget that.” I slid my hand along the hard ridge of his thigh.

“I won’t be making a habit of it.”

“Even so, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Cat.” He tipped my wine glass as I was drinking, forcing me to glug it all right down.

“Trying to get me drunk?”

“Trying to fill your bladder.”

He called the barman for another bottle.

***

The scene was still raging onstage as the urge to pee reached boiling point. I held off mentioning it at first, nerves getting the best of me, but eventually Masque called me out.

“You must need a piss now, Cat. You’ll be going like a racehorse at this rate.”

“Sorry, maybe I should go first? Take the edge of it?”

“No fucking way,” he growled. “I’ve worked up quite a thirst.”

“I do need to go,” I admitted. “I’ll have to try not to piss myself the moment I get off this stool.”

He smiled and took my hand. “Perfect timing, everyone’s on the main floor, which can mean only one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s an empty wet room with our name on it.”

The room was empty, just like he anticipated. It was stark and plain, all white tiles and fluorescent lighting. It reminded me of a public swimming pool shower room, with a load of detachable showerheads jutting from the walls at regular intervals. One large drain sat ominous in the middle of the floor. Masque hung his jacket up on a coat hook by the entrance, un-cuffing his shirt and draping it along with it. He took my bag and placed it on a bench, and held his hand out for my shoes. I handed them over.

The room was cold, every noise echoing all about us, metallic and clinical. I caught the faint whiff of pine disinfectant. It made me feel even dirtier.

“Are you going to piss
in
that dress, or out of it?” Masque quizzed. “Your call.”

I opted to preserve the gown, despite what Rebecca had intended, and wriggled out of it, tossing it to him for safe keeping. He groaned on sight of my bruises, and I bloomed with a confidence that was still new to me.

I watched him undress. Every movement was calculated, every breath considered. His cock rose huge, allaying any doubt that the man really wanted this. He pinned me to the tiles in a heartbeat, tongue fierce in my mouth as his fingers found my clit.

“Trust me,” he breathed. “You’re going to feel so good, Lydia, so fucking good. Tell me when you can’t fight it anymore, I’ll be ready.”

The pressure built up, exasperated by the throbbing of my clit, but I kept quiet, forcing it back. He moved his head lower, sucking my tits into his mouth one by one. He slurped his way between them, wet and slick, teasing my nipples to life.

“I love your titties, Cat,” he hissed. “They’re so fucking ripe for me.”

I rested my head back against the wall, looking down on him through glazed eyes. I yelped as he bit down hard.

“Please,” I gasped. “Please, Masque, make it hurt.” He clamped his teeth with added force, savaging my flesh until I whimpered.

“One day soon your tits will know real pain, Cat. So much beautiful pain, so much pain all for you.”

He ground his thigh between mine, pressing so hard I tried to move from under him. “Not there,” I begged. “I won’t be able to hold it.”

“That’s the fucking point,” he growled. “I want to drink from you, Lydia, I want to spread your sweet little cunt and lap at your slit like you’re the fountain of fucking life itself.”

Nerves jangled as the need to piss threatened to consume me. I focused on the ache between my thighs, on clenching every muscle as tight as it would go.

“I don’t know if I can do this. It’s so dirty, Masque.”

“If I can do
this
, Lydia Marsh.” He slipped the mask up from his face, tossing it over to the bench. “Then
you
can give me what I need. No boundaries, no barriers, no mask, Lydia, just you and me. I want to know every part of you, every secret of your body.
Every
secret.” His face was so close to mine, so close I could taste the scotch on his breath. “Trust me, Lydia, please.”

I raised my hands to his face. “You said you wouldn’t do that again, take off the mask.”

“I’m doing a lot of things lately that I thought I’d never do. Now it’s your turn. Please, Cat, please give me a taste.”

His hand was hot between my thighs again, balling my clit with his thumb. “Shit,” I moaned. “I can’t hold it, James, I can’t hold it anymore. I’m going to piss, James, I need to go. I can’t hold it!”

“Good girl,” he breathed, dropping to his knees. I didn’t fight him as he spread my legs, didn’t make a sound as his fingers spread me open. “There it is, Lydia, all ready for me. I wish you could see how beautiful your sweet little piss-slit is.” He wriggled his tongue against me, digging at a hole way too small to penetrate.

“Please, James, I can’t hold it,” I gasped, screwing my eyes shut.

“Look at me, Lydia.” His tone was hard, insistent. I looked down. “I want this.”

My body made my decision for me, caving under the pressure. The first rush of fluid spilled out without warning, and his mouth was on me, a primitive grunt sounding loud from the back of his throat.

“More,” he groaned. “Give me more.”

I moaned as the surge erupted, relief humming right through me, and once I started I couldn’t stop, not even if I’d tried. He kept his eyes on mine as he drank from me, swallowing some down, and spitting the rest back up to dribble down his chin. It felt so fucking wrong; it felt so dirty, and humiliating, and bad, and seedy, but so fucking amazing. It felt like bliss, the ultimate release, the most beautifully fucking filthy thing I’d ever done in my life.

“Oh my God,” I wheezed. “Oh my fucking God.” My legs trembled, knees buckling, but he held me in a vice, sliding three fingers inside me mid flow. He pumped me as I gushed for him, and it felt so right. It felt so fucking right.

He didn’t stop, not even when I was spent and euphoric, pressed against the tiles like my life depended on it. He sucked on my clit, moaning and grunting and hissing out words of endearment that made no fucking sense. White heat exploded behind my eyes, the grip of orgasm ripping right through me. I bucked against him, screaming his name,
both
his names, and he didn’t seem to care, burying his face in my pussy like I was salvation personified. I came down slowly, and let myself drop into his arms. His mouth tasted bitter, but I was past caring, lost in everything he had to give.

“My turn,” he moaned. “Do you want me?”

I didn’t register even the slightest shock, immune to any deviant thrill his mind could conceive. “In my mouth?” I asked. “Is that what you want?”

“Not today,” he smiled. He got to his feet pulling me with him. “Spread your legs wide for me, that’s my girl, show me your beautiful clit.”

“Ok,” I breathed, pulling myself open. “Whatever you want, Masque, do it, fucking do it!”

“Watch, Lydia, watch how fucking wonderful this is.”

He worked his cock in his hand, hard and ripe and so fucking big. I shuddered as he began to go, a short, sharp burst at first, before he picked up a steady flow. He aimed his dirty yellow jet straight for my clit, and I moaned like a whore as he hit the spot. “Yes,” he hissed. “Dirty girl, getting off on my filthy fucking piss.”

“It feels so fucking wrong,” I groaned. “So wrong.” I reached for his cock, mashing him tight against me, until his hot golden river splashed all the way down my thighs. “Don’t stop,” I hissed. “Please don’t fucking stop.”

“That’s my girl,” he breathed. “That’s my beautiful dirty girl.” He groaned as he finished, squeezing the base of his cock tight. “Taste me, Lydia, get on your knees and taste me.” I dropped down onto the wet floor, heart racing, and there, soaking wet and kneeling in his filth, I let my walls come down. I opened my mouth, gagging for just a moment as he slipped his filthy wet meat between my lips. “Fuck,” he hissed. “That’s right, that’s fucking right. Suck me clean, Lydia. I want to cum in your tight little cunt, all the way inside you.”