Dirty Break (18+)

In Which Sex Sells

Conor wanted nothing more than to help his brother. Leon may not have been born from the same mother or father, but he was more relation than any of the bastards they'd both produced in their long lives. That's why he had taken the card from the woman outside the prison when he had heard that her friend was making a TV programme about the prison his brother was currently detained in. He could even try to kid himself that that was why he had typed the website from the card into his search bar and hit send. The fifteen minutes he'd spent browsing through the various pictures and clips of her, however, were purely for his own enjoyment. He had seen outside the prison that she was exactly his type, slim and petite even with her extra layers of clothing to defend against the cold, and with a  delicate, innocent face belied by wicked, smiling eyes. Her business card read 'freelance model and cam-girl' and he hadn't understood what the latter was. As a banner scrolled across the page inviting him to 'subscribe for more images and videos' he thought he might have figured it out. Within moments he was subscribed via a PayPal account that could not be traced back to him or his family and had opened up the first folder of images he came to. In the first one she was smiling directly at the camera; she was wearing a fucking tiny thong and a bra that didn't deserve the name, but it wasn't particularly risqué. The next one saw her facing away from the camera, bent over with her legs parted to give a view at the barely covered cunt between them. Dick hardening instantly, Conor realised that this was above and beyond trying to help his brother. What he needed to do was get the IT guy to start tracking down the IP address used, but as another banner invited him to 'join the live chat at 9pm GMT' he decided that that could wait - there might be some information he could glean himself first - if he looked hard enough.

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"Are you serious? Leon Valentine basically he said he would like to have sex with you?"

Lydia took a huge pull of her Pornstar Martini, resulting in simultaneous brain-freeze and a low-level buzz.

"I'm sure he was just trying to throw me. It seemed like he didn't really want to answer my questions."

"Why agree to the interview in the first place then? Unless he has something to say to the outside world, what does he get out of it?"

Lydia finished her drink and gestured for another one as she considered.

"He's stuck in prison, Andrea. I would think anything to break the monotony would be agreeable."

"Oh here she goes, Miss Verbose Alcoholic. Just say normal sentences. From what you've told me and what I've seen on TV, he's not the type of person you can make do something they don't want to do. So what if he came to break the monotony? You're getting good shit for your show and he's getting something to put in the spank bank. And, as I believe the quote goes - you'll always have prison."

She smiled at her own joke and slurped the last of her drink as a man-bunned waiter set another round down on the table. In the lull as the glasses were collected, they both checked their phones.

"Ooooh, I have another new subscriber. I had five or six earlier so I wasn't expecting anymore today. And they've paid for my live chat tonight. Jut as well - Mama needs her a new MacBook and a Vivienne Westwood bag."

Lydia smiled affectionately at Andrea.

"If you didn't have such expensive tastes, mate, you would be rich. And I wouldn't have to cover your rent every other month."

"As long as my looks hold out I'm golden. Besides, I helped out when you were strapped for cash and we did the photo set together."

She waggled her eyebrows and giggled as Lydia blushed bright red.