Play Dirty By Sandra Brown Novels & Stories

I could still hear her laughing as I escaped. Crazy woman. The second I shut my door, I dropped dramatically on my bed and groaned into my pillow. This was a disaster. A complete disaster. My phone buzzed. I rolled over and grabbed it from my nightstand. It was a text from Selene. SELENE — Ashford Dirty Pot just posted a picture of you and Mr. Sexy Psychopath kissing. I zoomed in on the picture. It was clear we were eating each other's faces. But at the same time… it felt real.

She was still a little puffy and sensitive from last night, but so fucking wet that my fingers made obscene squelching noises as I pumped them deep. “Oh shit—Leo!” she gasped against my lips, her hips bucking wildly, riding my hand. Her juices ran down my wrist. “You’re such a dirty little slut,” I growled, curling my fingers to rub that spongy spot inside her while my thumb attacked her swollen clit. “My own stepsister getting finger-fucked in a closet because she can’t stay away from my cock.”

The house looked like a place a man had left in a hurry and then forgotten how to return to. Dust on the table by the door. Mail in a crooked stack that had slid and stayed slid. A glass in the sink with a ring at the bottom. A jacket over the back of a chair like I had meant to come back for it the same night. I stood in the entry and let the door close behind me and did not pick any of it up. The mess could wait. The dust could wait. I had been living in cars and cabins and other people’s blood for long enough that a dirty house felt almost honest. I went straight down the hall.

I added a fourth finger, the stretch burning so good my eyes rolled back, my thumb smashing my clit in brutal, punishing circles. The squelch of my pussy was obscene, perfect, the kind of sound that would make a p**n director cream his jeans. I was already close—too close—but I wasn’t here to be polite. I wanted to wreck myself. I yanked my hand free with a filthy pop and lunged for the glass dildo—thick, ridged, cold as sin. I spat a fat glob right onto the head and smeared it down the shaft with my cum-soaked fingers, then rammed it home in one brutal thrust.

I'm a mess – a perfect, filthy, destroyed, worshipped mess. "Don't clean up yet," Ethan says. He grabs his phone. Photographs me – covered in cum, spread on the sheets, the bowl of unused condoms visible on the nightstand, evidence of a night that exceeded every fantasy I've ever had. "Now," he says, setting the phone down. "Who wants to go again?" Round two is dirtier than round one.

Instead of eating it, she scattered it toward a few wild birds by the trail that clearly weren't afraid of humans, then lifted her phone and started filming a short video. "Guys, look at me, getting up close with nature. Aren't these little birds adorable?" Her sweet voice made my stomach churn. Suddenly, one of the birds swooped down. A splatter of droppings landed squarely on the biscuit in her hand. She screamed shrilly and flung the entire pack away as if it were contaminated. Then, she twisted open a bottle of precious drinking water and poured it over her soiled hand. That was our life-saving water.

“Well one idea is that she just squats down right in the middle of that long line, and she pulls her bikini bottoms to the side, and she just lets her piss go right there in all that hot sand in front of all those people.” “You’re such an asshole.” Sandra is clutching at her crotch with both hands as she bounces up and down. “What does this even have to do with watches?” “Or another idea is that she sees the men’s room doesn’t have a line. So she runs into the men’s room, saddles up to a urinal, reaches one of her sun-tanned legs up on the dirty bathroom wall, and right there in front of all those pissing men she lets her own pee spray all over the urinal and some of it trickles down her leg

"I want you. I want this." Noah then draped one of her thighs on his arms and started grinding against her. Slow, sexy crushing motions. Now this was what she called real dirty dancing. This was what it felt like to grind with their bodies intertwined. She whimpered as her clitoris throbbed from the stimulation. The man slowly moved in and out of her. "Ingrid, you feel so good," Noah whispered as he moved smoothly.

“Get your dirty hands off me. Don’t touch me!” “Dirty?” Adams sneered at her and threw what was left of wine in her face. He stormed back to her and slapped her face twice. “Bitch, how dare you call me dirty? How clean do you think you are? You seduce me and beg me to fuck you. All the women I have slept with have bigger breasts than you. They are prettier than you. And I am more comfortable when I fuck them. Who the hell do you think you are? If you had not been of some use, I would never hook up with you. You think I’m dirty, don’t you? That's because you have never seen anything dirtier!”

I looked back up at Sandy, who’s eyes were a mix of angry suspicion — and some serious jealousy. “God, you’re pathetic,” she sneered, dropping my arm and pushing me away. “I know Kevin dumping you for me was hard, but you’ve really let yourself go.” “First, you hook up with some guy with an expensive car who was definitely just using you as some sort of plaything,” Sandy said. “Then, you sell your body for an ugly necklace, just so you can feel desirable. You’re disgusting!”