Dirty (2 page)

“
Y
our mom can’t be
that bad, Ava.”

“Oh, you just wait.” My knuckles grow whiter as I grip the wheel.

“I mean, she’s been nice enough to let you throw my bridal shower at her place and to host my wedding at the end of the summer,” Chloe finger braids her hair as she talks.

“She likes the attention. She’s all about it. It’s just another venue where she’ll be able to prance around like a queen.”

“Ava, stop it. Our summer will be epic. We have three months to be us before I get married. We will make it our best.”

I roll my eyes, but keep my vision on the road so she won’t see it. “Yes, it will be fun.”

“Hell yes,” she squeals. “Then that will mean we have the house to ourselves.”

“Until Zack thinks he needs to come bone you.”

“I doubt that, he’ll be busy all summer.”

“Chloe, I’ve had to listen to you two screw the last four years.”

“We do get loud,” she admits.

A normal person would blush, but not Chloe. We met our freshman year as roommates in the dorm and have never parted. The both of us just graduated from Weston University, Chloe with her graphic design degree and me with a master’s in journalism.

All the other students my age graduated with bachelor’s except for me, the only privileged child of a senator. My parents expect nothing but the best since I was born. It’s all about looks and money with them. I only knew the ways of private schools and online courses until college. I graduated high school with my general associate’s degree.

My parents threatened to disown me when I chose a university that wasn’t on their level. Thank God, it was election year that year. Daddy was very flexible and Mom had to follow suit or they could be potentially blasted in the media. So I took ripe advantage of election year and picked my dream career. Writing has been and always will be my first love. From the age of scribbling letters in a pink notebook to my mounds of journals from over the years, writing is something no one can take from me nor tell me how to do.

The cold house, lonely nights, and miserable hours of having to put on a façade for the public disappeared when I’d crack open a notebook and let the real Ava Livingston flow on the pages. Sometimes it came out in the form of a wild adventure set deep in the heart of South America and other times it was just records and records of how I felt and how the real Ava was dying to live.

The past four years at Weston University were the best four years of my life and now here I am, driving to my parents’ new summer home to spend it with my best friend.

“So Darby just texted and she’ll be here tomorrow night with the rest of the girls. I’m a bit scared.” Chloe fiddles with the hem of her shorts.

“Why?”

“Because Zack is going to Vegas for his bachelor party at the end of July right before the wedding and mine is this weekend.”

“And you’re nervous about what?”

Chloe punches my arm in frustration. “Because my party is first and it will set the standard. Like you know, of strippers and such.”

“And cocaine and prostitutes.” I can’t help but giggle.

“You bitch. This is serious shit.”

We finally pull into the town of Preston. It’s simply breathtaking with the ocean as its backdrop and quaint little shops lining the streets. I stop at the first light and turn to my best friend.

“Now, call me crazy, but there’s this little thing called communication. You use your mouth and tongue to form words.” I shrug my shoulders high until they reach the bottom of my ear lobes. “Why don’t you give that method a shot?”

“It’s not that easy, Ava.”

“Let the man have a night of strippers and booze. Hell, you’ve had him tied down for four years and will be sucking his dick the rest of your life.”

I pull over to a deli when I feel the second drilling punch to my arm.

“It’s not funny and there will be no strippers for me.”

“I’m not the person you have to warn on that one. Take it up with Darby when she gets in tomorrow.” I grab my leather purse and toss on my shades. “Let’s go grab lunch before we find out where we’ll be staying this summer.”

“Good call.” Chloe still looks worried when she stands up from the car and little does she know she has a whole hell of a lot to worry about. I mean your friends only get married once in a lifetime, right?

We walk side by side down the boardwalk in the bright sunshine. My stomach growls when the aroma of fresh bread begins to fill the air. We’ve been on the road for nineteen hours changing drivers and only stopping for fried food. Darby could only be in town this weekend, so I worked my ass off to pull everything off.

Stopping for a second, I take the town in, its smells, scenery, and aura. It’s warm and inviting and very easy on the eyes with the shops and houses that look like they’re straight from a movie. The sound of the ocean crashing into the shore fills the background combined with squawking seagulls. Slight chatter fills the air, but it’s nothing compared to the hustle and bustle of a big city.

I did a bit of research on this town before inviting Chloe to stay here with me. The crime rate seemed a bit high and now viewing the town for the first time it seems really high, but none of it really matters since I’ll be away from my parents most of the damn summer.

Chloe reaches for the door handle to the deli, snapping me back to reality. My feet react faster than any part of my body and go sailing through the air, tumbling into her and scraping the shit out of both kneecaps.

“What in the hell?” She peers down at me with confusion blanketing her face.

“Let’s take a selfie,” I say, pulling myself up and fighting to block the pain away.

“You just did a fucking Olympic summersault leap combo for a selfie?”

“Fuck off. I want a picture of us before this summer happens.”

“Okay, but you could’ve just hollered my name. You know you’re not Gabbie Douglas.”

“Shut your damn mouth when you’re talking to me.” I wrap one arm around her shoulders and pull her in close to snap a selfie. We don’t do just one, but instead about twenty of them with different angles, funny faces, and even the go to duck lips.

“I love you, Chloe, and I promise you this will be the best summer of your life.”

“Love you, too, Ava, I’m just nervous.”

“There’s no need to be nervous when you have your bitches.”

I swing open the door to the deli and hear loud voices scream surprise in unison. I flew the whole bridal party out here for a week for the bridal shower, bachelorette party, and a sort of good-bye to our college years’ bash.

Darby is the first one to bound up to us, to Chloe’s complete surprise, wrapping us both up in a hug. The three of us are the closest. Darby roomed with us our junior and senior year. These two girls are like the sisters I never had. The rest of the girls are amazing, but are mainly Chloe’s friends from the old cheer squad at college.

Chloe is speechless for several minutes as she goes around to each friend giving them a hug. The clatter and ruckus from our small group is deafening. When I look around the deli a flush runs up my spine seeing all the other patrons. After a few minutes, the girls all settle in at the table and Darby hands me a wine glass. We both stand at the head of the table and everyone looks at me to speak.

I raise my glass of red wine towards Chloe. “This is to Chloe. The girls are here all week to celebrate with you. Remember when I made you piss in a pop bottle; well this is why.”

Darby’s next, holding up her identical glass to mine. They’re etched with “The Best Bitches” while the others say “bridesmaids.”

“To you, whore!”

We all clink our glasses and settle down in our seats and pick up our conversation. Bottles of wine flow before any food is ordered. It’s not long before my bladder screams at me and when I stand, my head swims. I sure in the hell hope they have a taxi service in this town. I sway back and forth, smiling like a fool at each of my friends before locating the bathroom sign.

“Food.” I pat Darby’s shoulder. “I need food.”

“Gotcha, girl. I’ll order for you.”

I do my best job walking with relaxed legs, but seem to sway more than normal. Finally, the bathroom comes into view and I push open the door with gusto with pulsating bladder threatening.

Everything comes into perfect view when I do. A tall, tanned man turns around to face me and before I get a word out in edge wise, my eyes travel from his, lingering down his body until I come to the zipper of his pants and his dick he’s holding in his hand.

“Ever heard of knocking?” His voice is raspy, rich, and hypnotizing. In fact, so hypnotizing I can’t quit staring at his dick. The thing is a healthy size of deliciousness orgasm. The man is fucking hung.

He tucks himself in and zips up his pants. The sound of the zipper is deafening and my hearts sinks when he finishes buttoning his pants. My eyes roam back up his body. The man is built, but it’s when we make eye contact that the true beauty of him punches me in the damn gut.

Bright blue eyes that flash at me with his strong jawline framing his face magnifying his perfect looks. I fight to find my voice, but only seem to stutter. My legs begin to quiver with embarrassment and as fast as the wine made me a fool, I sober up that damn fast with reality.

“Knock next time.” He pushes his way past me, letting his body brush along mine.

When the door shuts, I moan, then groan, and then slap my forehead in embarrassment. You’d think I was a virgin or hell a prude who’s never seen a pecker before. I pull down my shorty shorts and plop down on the toilet.

“Damn, his dick was gorgeous,” I say to myself. “And his face.”

Chills run up my spine reminiscing the encounter. Washing my hands, I shake my head at my reflection.
I stared at a stranger’s dick.
And then I realize I look like a whore who’s been working overtime with my brown hair spraying in every direction and the black lines under my eyes. I wet down the wild mess of hair and splash a bit of water on my cheeks to put color back in them.

I step back, checking out my outfit. My white shorts cup my ass perfectly and my black tank is simple but covers all the important parts including my Dolly Parton tits. It’s the one body part that my entire list of ex boyfriends loved. I’m pretty sure they just fucked me to get the chance to fuck my tits.

By the time I make it out to our table, everyone has plates in front of them. I settle down and gulp the remaining wine in my glass and then fill it again to the top before I pick up my sandwich.

“Thought you fell in.” Darby kicks me under the table.

I know better than to announce to the whole table what just happened because these bitches don’t know how to keep their mouths shut. I lean over to whisper into Darby’s ear and when I do so, I see the man. The fucking blue-eyed God staring at me from a booth and it takes me a few moments to gather my thoughts before I can whisper in her ear.

“I just stared at a guy’s dick in the bathroom.”

Darby falls into a fit of hysterics. I squeeze her arm, signaling for her to shut up. Peering back up, those blue eyes are still locked on mine.

“I’ll tell you more when we get to the house. Shut up now because he’s staring at us.”

Darby’s head darts up looking around the deli until she sees the man.

“Okay, Captain Obvious, eat your lunch and shut up.”

I take one more look at the gorgeous man before tucking my head and eating. Thank God, the rest of the group is occupied on catching up and filling in Chloe on the week’s plans from our spa appointments to our beach days.

I wash down my lunch with the rest of my wine and finally relax back into my chair and find humor in all of the mishap. I could see the headline now about the senator’s daughter caught staring at a magnificent dick in local bathroom.

I don’t miss it when the man walks past me out of the deli followed by two other men, but this time it’s his manly scent that hits me. It’s not clean and musky like most of the men I’ve been with. He smells of work and sweet musk.

“He’s fucking hot,” Darby whispers. “I hope he’s a local and I run into him again.”

“You’re such a whore.” I giggle, knowing damn well Darby would’ve had her way with the man in the bathroom.

All of us girls love sex, have had our fair share of one-night stands, and rap sheet of boyfriends, but Darby is the head slut on the team. One-night stands are her favorite and she crushes the men’s hearts when they come back for more and her shop is shut down.

I have a feeling this will be a summer for the record books.

S
heila’s money
was worth it, but makes for a fucking long workday and even a longer evening. I checked in on Grandpa and then fed him some bullshit story about going to have dinner with Rhett and then working on his truck. I was impressed to see Grandpa sitting out on his porch drinking sweet tea.

The familiar smell of the Blue Iron Club assaults me when I walk in the front door. I’m early for my show but need a few strong whiskey drinks before tonight. Ross, the owner and boss, lets me run my own show and knows without me he doesn’t have shit. There are about nine other strippers, but I’m his bread and butter.

Tonight, I can’t seem to get a certain set of green eyes out of my mind. Most nights I’m numb and just ready for the cash, but there was something about that girl. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her at lunch and could tell she was intrigued by me as well.

“Here you go, Zane.” The bartender slides a glass full of dark liquid my way.

I nod back and take the first pull from it. The whiskey burns going down. This fucking town will be filled with girls like her this summer. I’ve seen it year after year, but still can’t seem to shake her.

I grew hard watching her take me in from head to toe and when she stopped and stared at my cock, I knew I had to put a stop to it. By her breathless pants and flushed cheeks I knew it wasn’t embarrassment; she was intrigued and liking what she saw. Her tits were spilling over her black tank top and it took every thing inside of me not to bend her over that sink and make her moan under my touch.

I down the drink, hoping to forget her and chalking up my reaction to screwing old ladies’ night after night and not women my age. I signal the bartender for one more and am interrupted by Rhett dressed in a swimming Speedo with goggles dangling down from his neck.

“What do you think?” He gives everyone sitting at the bar a good hip thrust.

“Looks like you’re ready for swim lessons, champ,” Ross hollers.

His comment is followed by laughter and then even more comments follow and it quickly escalates into an R rated conversation. Rhett is a showboat and always changing it up for the women. I prefer simplicity.

“Listen up.” Ross waits for the entire staff to circle around. “Our season is here with the tourists and rich college kids home for the summer. This place will be picking up soon and I need nothing but your best from all of you.”

All of Ross’ soldiers nod in unison while continuing to listen to his orders. The man may run a seedy strip club, but demands nothing but perfection from each employee. It doesn’t matter if you’re scrubbing the toilets or the men on stage bringing in the cash, you’d better represent or your ass is gone. And he only gives one chance for you to fuck up.

“Game on, people, the new club in town won’t stay open long if you continue to represent. Do I need to remind anyone what’s expected of you?”

Everyone nods and a few mumble no.

“Toast to a good season.”

The bartender sets a tray of shots on the counter. Ross waits until everyone has their shot glass held up high before downing his and the rest of us follow. Between all the whiskeys buzzing around in my veins, I drift back to the numb state, not giving a single fuck about rules.

My ass would be gone in a heartbeat if Ross ever found out about my after hour shenanigans. Me making thousands after hours fucking his clients would be an immediate boot out the door, but money is more powerful than the threat of losing this job right now.

“I’m going to talk to Sasha to see if she has any song recommendations for tonight.” Rhett slams his shot glass down next to me.

“I’ll meet you in back,” I reply.

“You still afraid Sasha will chop your nuts off?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

“I have no doubt that crazy bitch will.”

“You may be my best friend, but you’d deserve it.”

I only shrug, damn well knowing I fucked Sasha over. She was my one and only steady girlfriend for years. It was more of a friend relationship with really dynamic sex. She didn’t take it too kindly when she caught me fucking another chick.

I’m just thankful the bitch will play music for me on the stage. She threatened to quit if Ross didn’t fire me, but he smoothed it over somehow. As I saunter back to the dressing room, I can hear her and Rhett talking and feel her daggers glaring holes in my back.

The dressing room is minimal at best with just enough space for us men to change. White benches border the room with a couple of full body length mirrors attached to the wall. A counter that’s littered with mostly empty beer bottles and whiskey bottles is near the door.

Pushing the door open, I see Randall who has a blonde bent over one of the benches. He’s pounding into her like there’s no tomorrow. The slamming of the door distracts him from it and like it’s no big deal he looks over his shoulder to me and nods and goes back to business.

The dragon tattoo that covers his back flinches with each of his thrusts and the blonde grows louder when she turns her head to see me. She lets her fake tits flop up and down while staring at me. It doesn’t take long before Randall is grunting and groaning, spilling over into the bitch.

“You need this?” he asks me, tugging on the blonde’s hair.

“I’m good,” I say, as I unbutton and unzip my jeans.

I don’t think I could get my cock up for her if I fucking tried right now. There are no dollar signs involved and whores have never been a turn on for me.

“I’m next,” Rhett hollers, shoving the door open and pushing Randall to the side.

Randall is by far the tallest of us all and built like a brick shit house. He doesn’t take shit from a soul but his brothers, and that would be the group of us. We have each other’s back no matter the situation; it can range from pussy to social problems.

“Nice ass, baby.” Rhett slaps the blonde’s ass, making her moan out loud again.

“You sure you don’t want to join, Zane?” Her eyes are glued to me as I slowly pull down my boxers. “I can suck you off while Rhett gets off in my pussy.”

“C’mon Zane, it will be like good ol’ times when were the tag team kings.”

My cock twinges with a bit of excitement thinking of all the chicks Rhett and I have fucked, but then my common sense kicks in.

“I have an appointment later tonight. I’m out.”

Rhett grips the base of his cock and begins sinking into the blonde inch by inch. “Your loss, man. Fuck, Randall, where did you find this tight pussy?”

Rhett doesn’t waste time and begins working over the blonde. Her fake sobs and moans become irritating before long and I find myself digging in my bag for my headphones. This shit happens a lot here.

The new guy from work walks in and his jaw drops when he sees Rhett taking to the whore.

“Oliver, whip your cock out and let her suck you off,” Rhett says nodding towards him.

He holds up both arms. “I’m good, man.”

“Do it. You don’t want to be the man who blows their load on stage.”

Oliver takes directions very well and does just what Rhett told him to do. I place the headphones on my ears and blare the fucking music, closing my eyes, and drifting far away from here. The smell of sex is the only thing I force myself to ignore right now.

I imagine the places I’d be if both of my parents weren’t serving life sentences in the state pen for first-degree murder. A place where my dad would be home to help with his dying dad and my mom, who would’ve nurtured me with motherly affection while growing up. I’d go to college and come back with a degree and a possible fiancée with ambition and goals instead of this lifestyle.

I watch Randall and two other dancers leave the room, followed by Rhett and Oliver. I know my time is getting close. You could say I’m the grand finale and then all of us men go out to the crowd to give lap dances to paying customers. The women aren’t allowed to touch us unless we grab their hand and drag it up and down our abs, which I rarely do. I’d like to think I keep some part of me private, but that’s one hell of a joke.

I open the cabinet with clothes in it and make quick work of pulling on my very faded blue jeans. Call it superstition but I wear them every single time. They’ve faded into a lighter blue than when new and the material is tattered and shredded everywhere. They ride low on my hips and then I toss on my white wife beater and decide to go with a red flat-billed hat since Janet Jackson will be singing to me tonight.

“Ladies, it’s the moment you’ve waited for,” booms across the speaker. “He’s back this summer and ready to dance for you. Anyone want to see Zane?”

The crowd roars and by the sounds of it, there’s a full-house out there waiting on me. I bounce back and forth on the balls of my Cons waiting on the upbeat rhythm of ‘What Have You Done For Me Lately’. When the drums fire off, I smoothly glide out to the center of the dance floor with my back to the crowd, taunting them with a few shoulder dips and hip pops before I grab the bill of my hat and spin around.

The atmosphere of the club morphs into an electric one with dollar bills flying up on the stage. I find her in the crowd. The shy one in a group of rowdy friends, she has her arms crossed, and is on the verge of tears. A club virgin that was dragged here by her drunk and obnoxious friends; these are my favorite ones to bring up on stage.

I snake my way towards her side, moving my hips with the beat of the music and bobbing my head. Right before I’m in front of her, I cross my arms out in front of me and pop my booty, making the crowd go wild and then I grab the hem of my shirt and slowly snake it up over my abs, but stop shy of having it off over my head, waiting for the women to beg for it.

In one swift movement, I have it off and swinging over my head and then finally let it fly. Ross knows to go grab it for me. He got sick of having to buy me a new beater for every single show.

I mouth the words of the chorus to the shy redhead, and then extend my hand out, beckoning her with my pointer finger. She reacts as expected, frightened and scurrying back, but her rowdy friends push her towards the stage.

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as her cheeks turn the same color as her hair and she hesitantly takes my hand. Effortlessly, I pull her up to the stage and dance around her until the song is over. I wait for Rihanna to start singing ‘Work’ before I wrap my arm low around her back and pull her into me and grind the fuck out of her.

The dollar bills rain as her friends cheer her on. I half expect this one to start crying, but the tears never come, and eventually a cute little smile covers her face. Using both hands, I grip onto her waist and lift her up, bringing her to my chest. I feel her legs lock around my back and her hands dig into the top of my shoulders.

I sway back and forth with her for a few seconds to make sure she has her bearings and is ready for my next move. My hands dig tighter into her ass cheeks then I begin bouncing her up and down on my cock. Now an innocent girl like this makes my cock grow hard, and I can only imagine the way she’d feel slamming down on it.

I keep her ass rhythmically bouncing up and down and whisper in her ear. “Turn my hat backwards.”

Her face flushes an even deeper crimson and a questioning look covers her petite features.

“Turn my hat backwards.” I nudge her ear lobe with my nose and then sink my teeth into the sensitive skin on her ear until I hear her moan.

“Fuck,” I growl. She might orgasm from dry humping me.

It takes her a minute before she reaches up and twists my hat backwards. The local and very loyal customers know what’s about to go down and they show their enthusiasm by showering the stage with more dollar bills.

I slowly dip my head down and don’t break eye contact with the girl until my face is grazing the top of her cleavage. I work slow, nudging my nose in between her tits while keeping her ass bobbing up and down. Before the song ends, I gently place her on her feet, gripping the back of her hair and urging her to her knees.

With a tight grip on her hair, I air fuck her face, changing my moves into a grinding action, and then I slowly unbutton my pants and let her unzip them and tug them to the ground until I’m only left in a tiny ass black thong.

I clutch onto the back of her head one more time and let my cock bounce up and down to the music. She shocks the shit out of me when she leans forward, letting it hit her face. The crowd goes insane with the action, so I place my other hand on the back of her head and really grind on her face.

“Zane,” Ross booms over the speakers. The stage goes dark and security guards guide the young woman off the stage. Once she’s gone, the lights go back on full blast.

“If you loved him, ladies, let him know.”

Another song begins to fill the rowdy club filled with women thirsty for cock action. The rest of the men join me on stage as Ross shouts out the rules of the lap dancing and then we file off the stage and make our way to the women. And this is where I become very selective, surveying the crowd for women who show signs of having a healthy wallet. I look for diamond rings, leather purses, and designer heels.

Finally, I spot the perfect table of middle-aged women; they have a stack of bills on the center of their table and they’re not ones.

“Ladies.” I smile and rub my chest as I walk up to them. “Can I do anything for you over here?”

“Right here, big boy.” A silver haired woman pushes back from the table and faces me in her chair.

The sexy song floating around the club motivates my moves. I rest both hands behind my head snaking my body closer to hers until I can feel her body heat and begin my show.