Dirty Thirty Novels & Stories

The rest of us took her lead and seated ourselves around the basement, Jonie and Mitch together on the couch with the rest of us finding chairs. “I’m not exactly sure. Whatever it was had to do with their personal dirt.” “Personal dirt?” “When the Dirt blows in, it brings with it everybody’s personal dirt.” “What do you mean?” “Those things in our lives that we’d like to stay buried, forgotten, in other words, our personal dirt. Here’s mine.” She went over to the computer and jiggled the mouse, dismissing the screensaver. Underneath the screensaver was the F******k page of a man in his late forties.

The wall was cold at my back. He started thrusting into me, hard and fast, his hands under my thighs and holding me up with his hips slamming into mine. He fucked me like we had five minutes left before the world ended. “Fuck,” he panted. “You feel unreal.” I couldn’t even speak. My head hit the wall and my hands clawed at his back. “You like this?” he growled. “Yes—god—yes.” “Being fucked against the wall in broad daylight?” “Yes.” “You want someone to walk in and see how filthy you are?”

Try eight loads in my womb, three in Jada’s ass, and a promise of more every time the folks look away—plus the trucker’s number scrawled on a napkin in Zion’s pocket. I’m wrecked, dripping, owned—and I wouldn’t trade a single filthy, public drop.

I want you to sit back, relax and enjoy yourself. LonelyGirl: I like being your naughty girl. LimberJack: and how have you been my naughty girl? LonelyGirl: I've been thinking about you since last night 😉😏🥵 LimberJack: And why would you do that? LonelyGirl: you know why... LimberJack: nope. not the answer I was looking for ❌❌❌ LonelyGirl: are you going to make me spell it out? LimberJack: abso-FUCKING-lutely

The entire room was a mess. Standing a distance away from her was her housekeeper, Matilda. The woman looked tired and sleepy, she had been cleaning the entire house since the day news got to her boss that Sarah Waves was getting married to Ron Diego. It was not because the house was dirty but because her boss kept breaking and tearing things apart out of rage and she was left to clean the mess the woman makes.

she suggested. The mark was maybe thirty and in a cheap off the rack suit. His shoes were worn, and he smelled of beer, his fingernails chipped and dirty. He was probably on a payment plan and certainly wouldn’t tip a lot. But a fuck was a fuck and she was still ahead of Ebony tip wise tonight. And why should rich, bitch boys have all the fun? “Fuck off whore,” he said, “I don’t want your used up pussy anyway.” Amber plastered a smile on her face, “If you want handouts go down to the welfare office. Or home to your wife. I’m sure your dick is amazing and all, but no one rides for free around here.”

And I couldn’t control myself to stay quiet anymore. “Unghhhhhh” “Damn, you like it when I say dirty things don’t you?.” I couldn’t talk. I was out of breath. “Finally, someone that gets me. Your sister doesn’t like it when I talk dirty, you know. But you, you're perfect for me. My perfect little whore” “Unghhh,… Ahhhhh….” “Yes baby, just like that. Let me hear you moan like the perfect little slut you are”

“Get lost before I do something crazy.” The crazy bitch cursed us before stomping away. Angela on the other hand hugged me tightly. “I suddenly feel wet from watching this.” Fuck! “I think that can be rectified.”

As soon as Tina raised her hand to slap Rose Sinclair, Rose swiftly grabbed her wrist, twisted it behind her back, and said coldly— “Don’t even think of making this mistake again. 😡 And don’t be fooled by my innocent face… because behind it, there’s another side of me you won’t be able to handle.” 😏 Tina, furious, shouted at Rocky— “What are you standing there for? Get me out of this crazy girl’s grip!” 🤬

I looked down, my eyes widening in pure horror as the new message populated on the screen. "Unknown; Look at that, your reputation is already in the gutter. Let's make a deal. If you don't drop out of the duet or botch the performance next week, the hospital photo goes on the forum next. Let's see how your scholarship and your precious GPA handle a prostitution scandal like that. Clock is ticking, Dark Bird." My breath completely caught. The trap was perfectly laid. If I sang well, my life was ruined by the blackmailer. If I dropped out or botched it, my GPA died, and my only ticket out of the club life evaporated.