Dirty Air Series Novels & Stories

SERENITY The steam was still clinging to my skin, thick and smelling of lavender, as I stepped out of the walk-in shower. I wrapped a towel around my hair and another around my body, shivering slightly as the chill of my Upper West Side apartment hit me. I reached for my phone on the vanity. The screen lit up with a notification from Dirty Linens—the high-end escort app I’d been using to pay for this lifestyle since the divorce papers were finalized a year ago.

There was Mia with her dark curls and mischievous grin, always the one starting chants at games; Jenna with pink streaks in her hair and a tongue piercing that glinted when she smiled, the wild one who snuck vodka into water bottles; Emily all legs and freckles, sweet but with a hidden edge; Sarah, the brunette with a killer ass and a laugh that turned heads; Taylor, blonde and bubbly with tits that strained every top; and Brooke, the redhead with piercing green eyes and a body made for sin. They all waved or winked, their outfits ranging from lacy bralettes to silk shorts that left nothing to the imagination. The air smelled like vanilla candles, popcorn, and something muskier underneath. “

I stood there, blanket barely covering my torn dress, pussy still throbbing and leaking from earlier. I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal. “Yes, Richard. Just watching a movie with a friend. Thanks for the reminder. I’ll get them in on time.” There was a long pause. “Alright. Have a good weekend.” His footsteps finally retreated down the hallway. We waited until we heard the elevator ding before anyone moved. Sophia pulled off Ethan’s cock with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to the glistening head. She looked up at him with a wicked grin. “Close call. Now where were we?”

We were supposed to be upstairs already talking more not doing chores like little kids. Sara came back in with the dry cleaning bags and hung them up quick. “Mom we got it covered now. Thanks.” But her mom just nodded and then said “The dusting in the living room could use some attention too. Nancy you take that side Sara you do the shelves.” She handed us dusters and I wanted to groan out loud but Sara gave me this look like please just go with it so I did. We dusted and I kept glancing at Sara and she kept glancing back and we both rolled our eyes when her mom wasn’t looking. It was kinda funny in a annoying way. Like her mom had radar for this stuff. “Mom seriously we’re good,” Sara said

“We need to clean this up.” Damien grabbed some tissues from Mr. Hargrove’s desk and handed me a wad. We wiped ourselves quickly, cleaning the desk surface and the floor where a few drops had fallen. I straightened my skirt, buttoned my shirt with shaky fingers. He fixed his pants and ran a hand through his messy hair. I looked at him. He looked back. The hate was still there, but now mixed with something raw and unresolved. “So…” I said, clearing my throat. “This never happened.”

"Dummy! If there’s anyone who’d be the first to know if Sir Noah’s gay, it would be me. I can smell green blood a mile away, no matter how hard someone tries to hide it." "Well, I didn’t really feel it. I just thought it was possible. It’s just… he looks too clean, you know? He’s really into pastel-colored polos. Like right now, he’s wearing a light pink long-sleeved shirt. Yesterday, he was in white pants too."

Chapter 16 Lena’s POV The clock on the wall seemed to mock us. Mom’s plane had landed earlier than expected, and her text said she was already in a cab heading home. We had maybe forty-five minutes. The house looked mostly normal on the surface — fresh sheets on the beds, windows open to let in the ocean breeze, surfaces wiped down — but the air still carried a faint, lingering scent of sex no amount of cleaning could fully erase. My body ached with exhaustion and leftover pleasure. Every step reminded me of the weekend’s excesses.

My panties rip. Cool air touches my pussy. I'm exposed. Zeke steps back. He pulls his pants down. His zombie cock springs out. It's thick and veined, the skin mottled green and black. Pus drips from the tip. It smells foul, like curdled milk and decay. Precum leaks in thick globs. Yellow and sticky. I gag at the smell. He grabs my hips. Flips me around. My face presses against the wall. Rough wood scrapes my cheek.

There was no furniture in it and all the walls were painted white, including the door that couldn't be opened from the inside as it didn't even have a handle. What the actual fuck?

Complaints, insults, excuses, frustration. “That asshole plays dirty.” “The ref was bought.” “We shouldn’t have lost like that.” I clench my jaw as I read, close the chat without thinking too much because I don’t want to stay there, don’t want to keep going over the same thing, don’t want to think about the game or him, so I set my phone aside and take a deep breath, trying to clear my head, even if it’s just for a while. Tonight I’m only going to do one thing, drink enough to not feel anything and leave early before it all becomes unbearable, no drama, no complications, not giving him more space than he already takes.