This Is So Dirty

I'm going to be unable to update until Sunday, so I'm releasing the next four pages all at once today.

Enjoy!

Sophie

God she's humming with it. She might even be wet already, her aching sex eager for an as yet undefined excitement that she no doubt knows every detail of and that she no doubt wants to revel in.

And I've never been good with mysteries. I skip to the last page of the book to figure out whodunnit and I read the ending. When I'm watching I movie, I pull up the summary and spoil everything for myself. And I tell myself that the journey is more important than the ending. I tell myself that I want to know where it's going, so I can see how the creator executes it.

But that's a lie.

The truth is that I don't like mysteries, I don't like secrets. The truth is that I know that I'm spoiling it for myself, but I want to know the ending. I need to understand where we're going, maybe because I just can't stand not knowing. Maybe because I just can't help myself.

When Rachel pulls back, I find my voice.

"What's going on here? What are we doing here?"

The room isn't bright exactly, even now with the lights on, but I can still make out her unmistakably mischevious smile.

"We're having fun, Emily," she tells me, "We're doing something new."

"Look I may be fresh off the farm, but watching porn isn't exactly new to me. And I may be, you know, a bit innocent. But watching it here doesn't exactly scream enticing."

"Porn?" she laughs, as if I've just said the funniest thing in the whole damn world, "Is that why you think we're here? Is that what you think we came here for?"

I pause, for just an instant, "Why else would we be here? I know what these booths are for."

"Oh you don't," she coos, leaning in again, "Clearly, if that's where your mind leapt, you don't have a clue."

I want to protest, sincerely I do. But you see Rachel is kissing me again an instant later and it gets really hard to protest when she's doing that. When she's doing what I want her to. When she's doing it to me.

Kissing me hard and urgent. Kissing me while that grinding noise and thudding and shuffling seems to echo around us. More and most importantly kissing me while her hands play over my body, grasping at my clothes and then tugging at them with the same urgency that she's kissing me. Bending and twisting me until it isn't just my lips that she's kissing.

My neck next. My chest afterwards. And it's only when her lips close over my nipple that I realize that she's gotten me topless and is working her way down, popping open the button and then pushing my bottoms off along with my panties so the only thing that I'm left wearing are my shoes.

And she's kissing down my stomach one moment and then she's pulling me off the stool next and I have an instant to think how this floor probably isn't clean enough to kneel on it before it's too late and I'm kneeling on it already.

That thought, the thought of what I'm in and amongst, makes me feel so damn dirty.

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