Dirty Air Series Novels & Stories

he promised. “Antonio, get me out of here right now. I don't like it here Antonio. The room I have is too small. I can't breathe in here. And it's so dirty and the bathroom is cockroach infested, not to talk of the rats here. And then they wake me up by six am because of that damn body count. You know I hate waking up early" I complained. "You'll be moved to a bigger and better room while we work on your release. Just be patient, Gemma" he promised.

They passed through a few persons who casted weird glances at them. Finally, she turned the door of a room open and moved to the side. Turning to Isha, she said “Clean up, and change into that.” She moved her head to indicate a black thin strapped dress on one of the many beds in the room . “There's so much to do. You have five minutes.”

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. “

"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."

Her hair was a wild mess, her cheeks flushed pink like she’d been running. “Mom? You’re still here?” "Yes honey, have you seen my charger? I thought i might have left it here.” I stepped inside, eyes scanning the surfaces. The air hit me first—thick, warm, and strangely musky. Like sweat mixed with something heavier, more intimate. Cologne? Or… no. I was imagining things. The bed looked chaotic. Sheets twisted and half-off the mattress, one pillow on the floor. The picture frame on the wall was crooked. Leena’s skin glistened slightly with sweat even though the AC was running. My stomach tightened with an uncomfortable twist I couldn’t name.

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?